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Authors: Madeline Baker

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BOOK: Feather in the Wind
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She repeated those words to herself as one of the soldiers helped her into the back of the wagon, repeated them over and over again as twilight fell over the plains. One by one, the stars came alive, winking softly against the midnight blue sky.

It was near midnight when they reached the fort. Black Wind was hauled off the back of his horse. He tried to turn and face her. She heard one of the soldiers curse as he cuffed Black Wind across the face, then pushed him roughly forward.

Susannah stared after Black Wind, wishing she could go to him, comfort him, but the sergeant took her by the arm and hustled her into the colonel’s office, where she was kept waiting for a good half hour.

She paced the floor outside his office, her thoughts turning to Black Wind. Would they beat him before they locked him up? She had to find a way to free him. She couldn’t bear to think of him locked up again.

At last, O’Neill opened the door and beckoned her inside. He didn’t invite her to sit down.

“So, miss,” he said curtly. “What have you got to say for yourself?” Rounding his desk, he sat down, his elbows on the desktop, hands clasped, fingers laced together.

“You’re making a mistake,” Susannah said. “I’m not a spy.”

“Can you prove that?”

“Can you prove I am?”

“We found you sneaking around the fort,” O’Neill retorted. “No one knows who you are or where you came from. You helped the Indian escape. You were found in a Lakota village.” He shrugged. “That’s proof enough for me.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“Nothing, until I hear from Washington.”

“What’s going to happen to Black Wind?”

“He’ll finish out his sentence plus another year or two, then be sent to the reservation where he can’t cause any more trouble.”

“That’s not fair!”

O’Neill stood up, his hands flat on the desk, his expression ominous. “Don’t be impertinent, miss! Hackett, take her to the guardhouse.”

Before she could argue, she was being dragged out of the colonel’s office and across the compound. Minutes later, she was locked in the cell adjoining Black Wind’s. She spared hardly a glance at her surroundings, noting that, except for a narrow cot and a covered slop jar, the cell was virtually empty.

“Su-san-nah!”

Black Wind moved toward her, and she noticed that his right leg was shackled to a thick iron ring bolted to the wall. She knew how humiliating it must be for him, to be chained up like some sort of wild animal, and wondered if that was the reason for the chain. Not as a precaution against his escape, but simply to humiliate him, to remind him that, for him, freedom no longer existed, nor would it ever again.

The heavy iron chain rattled as he crossed the floor. And then he was reaching for her through the bars.

She went to him gratefully, needing his touch, the sound of his voice.

He held her as close as he could, one hand running up and down her back as he murmured her name over and over again.

“Oh Black Wind, what are we going to do?”

“I do not know,
wastelakapi
. Do not worry about it now. You need to rest. You must think only of the child now.”

The baby. She had almost forgotten about it.

Black Wind dragged his blanket to the bars that separated them. Susannah did the same, though she was loathe to touch the threadbare blanket folded across the foot of the cot, and they laid down facing each other, holding hands through the bars.

Tears burned Susannah’s eyes. If they sent her to Washington, she would never see Black Wind again. That thought hurt worse than anything else.

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Colonel Frederick O’Neill sat back in his chair and tried to keep his mounting irritation from showing on his face as he listened to Hester Micklin rant and rave. The woman had been a constant thorn in his side ever since her arrival at the fort. She had been hanging around his office day and night for the past week, trying to get in to see him. Finally, in hopes that she would say her piece and be on her way, he had agreed to meet with her. It had definitely been a mistake. The woman had been giving him the rough side of her tongue for the better part of half an hour and he’d had just about all he could take.

He slid a glance at the woman’s husband, who stood near the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his weathered face inscrutable.

What a pair, O’Neill thought sourly. The man was as silent as the grave, the woman chattered like a magpie.

The woman drew herself up to her full height, hands fisted on her ample hips. “I said it before, and I’ll say it agin, Susannah ain’t no more a spy than I am.”

“Yes, well, someone else will make that decision.” O’Neill thumbed through the papers on his desk, hoping she’d realize he had other duties to attend to. “Good day to you, Mrs. Micklin.”

“I ain’t leavin’ until you turn Susannah loose,” Hester said vehemently. “You can’t keep her locked up in that dreadful place.”

“I’m afraid I can.”

“It ain’t right. Not in her condition.”

“Condition?” O’Neill looked up, his eyes narrowed. “Is she ill?”

“She’s in the family way.”

The colonel swore under his breath. That did, indeed, complicate matters. He could just imagine what the Eastern papers would say if they learned he was keeping a pregnant woman in the guardhouse. Every liberal bleeding heart west of the Mississippi would be after his hide.

“You can be sure I’ll bear that in mind.” O’Neill stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

“I said I ain’t leavin’.”

“Mrs. Micklin, I should hate to have to detain you as well.”

Abe pushed himself away from the wall. “Let’s go, Hester. This blue belly don’t give a damn about right and wrong.”

“I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr. Micklin, and remind you that while you’re on my post, you’ll show a little more respect for me and for this uniform.”

“I got no respect fer you, or fer thet there uniform,” Abe retorted. “Let’s go, Hester,” he repeated, and grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her out of the colonel’s office.

“Abe! Let me go!”

“You’re wastin’ yer time, Hester. He ain’t gonna listen, and he ain’t gonna turn Susannah loose neither.”

“Well, we’ve got to do something! You heard what he said. He thinks Susannah is a spy.”

“Hell, woman, maybe she is. We don’t know nothing about her or that redskin.”

“Abe Micklin, you shut your mouth this minute! How can you even think such a thing?”

“Shit, I don’t know what to think anymore. All I know is, we’ve been gone from our place too long as it is. I say we hitch up the team and go home.”

“I’m not leaving this place as long as Susannah is locked up in that awful jail. I think we should try to see her again. Maybe this time they’ll let us in.”

“Woman, they ain’t gonna let you see her. Ain’t you got that through yer head yet? That blue belly colonel gave orders that she weren’t to have no visitors. He ain’t gonna change his mind, and there ain’t nothin’ you kin do about it.”

Hester scowled at him, the light of battle rekindling in her eyes. “Is that so? Well, we’ll just see about that.”

And so saying, Hester turned on her heel and marched back into the colonel’s office.

“Women,” Abe muttered. “Sometimes I think I’d have been better off if I’d-a stayed single.”

* * * * *

An hour later, Hester was hugging Susannah through the bars.

“Are you all right, child?” she asked. She drew back and looked Susannah over from head to foot.

“I’m fine, Hester. I’m still a little sore, but the Army doctor looked me over and said my wounds are healing, thanks to you.”


Humph
! As if anybody could be fine in a place like this.”

Susannah smiled. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Hester reached into the basket on her arm. “Here, I brought you a few things.”

She handed Susannah a bar of yellow soap, a bag of gum drops, a hairbrush and comb, a packet of hair pins, a small bag of inexpensive cologne.

“Hester, you shouldn’t have.”

Hester shook her head as she glanced around the crude cellblock, her nose wrinkling with disgust.

“Horrible place,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t let my dogs stay in here. Next time I come, I’ll bring you some decent bedding. Why, that blanket ain’t fit fer nothing but rags.”

Hester glanced over at Black Wind, who had remained silent after greeting her and Abe with a subdued hello. Her gaze ran over him, noting that he seemed thinner than when she’d seen him last. She could still see the bruises on his face and arms, souvenir of the beating the soldiers had given him.

“We’ll get some better blankets for you too, young man,” she said. “Is there anything else you need?”

Black Wind shook his head. The only thing he needed was his freedom, and that was one thing Hester Micklin could not pull out of her basket.

“Here,” Hester said, delving into her basket once more, “I thought the two of you might like something to eat. You’re both skinny as church mice. Ain’t much now, just some bread and meat and cheese.”

“Hester, how can we ever thank you?”

Hester waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Landsakes, child, what are friends for? We’ll be back tomorrow. Try not to worry now, I just know everything will be all right.”

Susannah nodded. “Thank you, Hester. You too, Abe.”

Abe grunted softly, then sidled closer to Black Wind’s cell. “Anything I kin get fer you?” he asked gruffly.

“A rifle would be a big help,” Black Wind replied dryly.

A rare grin creased Abe’s face. “Yeah,” he drawled, “I reckon so. Anything else you need?”

“No, but I thank you for what you have done.”

“Yeah, well…” Abe glanced at Hester. “Reckon we’ll be by tomorrow.”

“Count on it,” Hester said. “Come along, Abe, the colonel said we could only stay a few minutes. Don’t want to make that old grouch angry lessen he won’t let us come back again.”

She hugged Susannah through the bars. “Don’t get discouraged now, hear? Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

Her arms filled with Hester’s bounty, Susannah smiled through her tears. Never, in all her life, had she had a friend as loyal as Hester Micklin.

* * * * *

It was late afternoon the following day when a trio of soldiers came into the guardhouse. They handcuffed Black Wind’s hands behind his back, then opened both cell doors.

It was a routine Susannah had grown used to in the last week. Once each afternoon, they were allowed to spend fifteen minutes outside.

During this time, no one was allowed to get near them, or speak to them. Occasionally, she had seen Hester and Abe in the distance. Hester had tried to speak to Susannah the first time she saw her outside, but the colonel had heard about it and threatened to have her forcibly removed from the post. Still, it always boosted Susannah’s spirits to know Hester and Abe were nearby.

She was looking for some sign of her friends when she saw a soldier escorting a couple of men in their direction. The civilians, who were both dressed in Eastern city-style suits and black bowler hats, were carrying a camera and tripod and other paraphernalia.

One of the men guarding Susannah stepped forward.”What’s going on?”

“I’m Wilson B. Royale, and this is my assistant, Louis Hackworth. Colonel O’Neill said I might take a picture of the Indian for my newspaper,
The Dakota Chronicle
.”

Black Wind shook his head. “No.”

“You’ll do as you’re told, buck,” the soldier said.

“Thank you, Corporal. Would you make him stand over there? Yes, with the jailhouse behind him. Yes, that’s perfect. Gritty.” He studied his subject while his assistant set up the camera. “Do you think you could remove his handcuffs for a moment? Thank you. We don’t want to upset the sensibilities of our lady readers.”

Sullen-faced, Black Wind stood where he was told while the photographer set up his equipment. He rubbed his wrists as, furtively, he glanced around, weighing his chances of escape. They were not good, he mused. A number of soldiers who were not otherwise occupied had gathered around to watch the picture taking. The two soldiers in charge of watching him stood nearby, rifles at the ready. He could see Abe and Hester standing near their wagon a short distance away.

“Okay,” the photographer said. “This is it.”

Susannah stood beside the camera, startled by the realization that the picture being taken was the very one that she had bought at the POW WOW. For a moment, it seemed as if all the world was frozen in a moment of eternity and she was seeing the photograph of Black Wind for the first time. She remembered talking to the man at the reenactor workshop. She had asked how Black Wind died, and he had said he didn’t know, there was no record of his death.

“Susannah? Susannah, is that you?”

Elliott Carter’s voice penetrated her reverie. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him break away from a column of soldiers returning to the fort and ride toward her.

He swung out of the saddle, the smile on his face fading into a frown when he saw that she was under guard. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m under arrest for being a spy.”

Carter swore under his breath. “I thought that was all settled.” He glanced at Black Wind. “So, they caught him.”

“They caught us,” Susannah said. “Elliott, is there anything you can do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Colonel O’Neill. How long have you been here?”

“A week.”

Carter swore under his breath. “I’ve been out on patrol. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.” His gaze ran over her. She looked a trifle pale; there were dark smudges under her eyes. “Are they treating you all right? You look a little thin.”

“I’m fine.” She placed one hand over her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

He didn’t try to hide his astonishment. “You’re…you’re sure?”

“Yes.”

She waited for his expression to change, waited for his concern to turn to derision. She felt like crying when his eyes continued to reflect only concern for her welfare.

“Did he…he didn’t…” He cleared his throat. “Are you happy about…about the baby?”

“Yes, very.”

“I’ll speak to the colonel, see if he won’t consider letting you stay in one of the huts, considering you’re in the family way.”

Almost, she was tempted to accept. The crude hut she had stayed in before seemed like a palace when compared to her jail cell, but she couldn’t go, couldn’t leave Black Wind. “Thank you, Elliott, but I’d rather stay in the jail.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Carter nodded, knowing she wanted to stay with the Indian. He blew out a long sigh. “I’ll see what I can do about making you more comfortable.” He glanced at Black Wind, who was standing as stiff as a cigar store Indian, staring into the distance, while the photographer took another picture. “Both of you.”

“Thank you, Elliott.”

“We’re done here,” Royale said. “Get our gear, Louis, I want to get these developed as soon as I can.”

In a matter of minutes, Black Wind’s hands were cuffed again and he was being led back to the guardhouse.

“Excuse me, Lieutenant, but she’s got to go back too.”

“In a minute, Corporal.”

The corporal cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be impertinent, sir, but I’m obeying the colonel’s orders.”

“Very well, Corporal.” Carter took Susannah’s hands in his. “I’m sorry about this, Susannah. Try not to worry.”

She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

A short time later, she was back in her cell. She flinched as the door was shut behind her, the key turned in the lock. She had never realized how much she abhorred small confined spaces until now. How much worse must it be for Black Wind, who had been born and raised in the vastness of the plains, who had known only freedom his whole life?

“What did the white man say to you?” Black Wind asked. His voice was even, yet she heard the fine edge of anger beneath his quiet words.

“He said he’d try to help us.”

“Us, Su-san-nah? Or you?”

“Both of us, Black Wind. Don’t be angry. We could use a friend right now.”

“I do not need a
wasichu
for a friend.”

“Is that right? Well, it seems to me you already have some white people for friends. What about Hester? And Abe? Don’t they count as friends? And what about me?”

“What about you?” Black Wind asked softly. He watched her through fathomless ebony eyes, his body motionless, his hands clenched at his sides.

BOOK: Feather in the Wind
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