For the Love of Suzanne (13 page)

She wrenched away from him. “I will do no
such thing. You are animals!” she hissed and shoved him back.

He grabbed her again and pulled her close enough
for her to smell his putrid, whiskey-laced breath and see the anger
in his dark eyes. “You next,” he growled.

She shook her head. “No,” she said in
a tremulous yet defiant voice.

“I say yes,” he countered coldly.

She knew this had been coming but so soon? He’d
just had a woman and she knew from Beau that men did not recharge
that quickly. There was no way. She couldn’t see his face
clearly, but he was an older man with lines in his face, a big nose,
dark eyes, not many teeth, graying shoulder-length hair, and a bad
case of halitosis and body odor.

She met his dark eyes. “No,” she said
sternly, despite his stench being enough to send her stomach into a
knot. She abruptly shoved him away and tried to get outside to vomit,
but he pulled her back by the hair and threw her to the ground. She
couldn’t help it and threw up all over herself and the dirt
floor.

He backed off, gagging and covering his mouth in
disgust.

She struggled to her knees, panting as she made
her way to the door only to have him kick her in the backside,
sending her sprawling in the doorway as she was violently ill again.
She was crying but hid it. She knew from living with Beau that if she
showed emotion, it would just make it worse.

She was trying to catch her breath, lying on her
stomach outside the door of the lodge, when two women grabbed her by
the arms. They picked her up and began walking swiftly, bouncing her
head off the ground. She cried out in pain, but they were heedless to
the sickening crack in her lower left arm as they spoke crossly in
their native language. She couldn’t understand what they were
saying and didn’t really care. Her fear and the pain in her arm
were too great.

They reached the rocky bank of the river that
flowed a short distance from the village and tore her clothes off her
and stole her wedding ring and what little jewelry she was wearing.
She couldn’t fight them and didn’t even try as they threw
her into the river, sliding her belly painfully across the rocks in
the shallow water.

She gasped as the surprisingly cool water
encompassed her body but the relief was short-lived and fear set in
when she realized she was being dragged into deeper water. With the
broken arm, these two strong women and the water getting deeper, she
didn’t have a chance. She’d been telling herself that
death was better than what this life would be, but now that it was
staring her in the face, she wasn’t so sure.

She knew what was coming and prayed that death
would not be as terrifying as what was leading to it. She knew she
was going to die tonight and the first dunk proved it.

She tried not to panic when she felt her breath
being taken as water filled her lungs, but couldn’t help it.
She tried to punch and kick them while trying to raise her head, but
they only laughed and pushed her under again, holding her longer.

She finally came up for air and coughed and
coughed, unable to cry out as the woman wrenched her broken arm
behind her back. She didn’t have time to catch her breath
before she was shoved under the water again.

They held her under for what seemed an eternity.
She could feel herself getting weaker and weaker while losing
consciousness. She was petrified that she was going to die when they
let her up again.

“No more,” she gasped as she tried to
catch her breath. “Please, no more.”

The woman to her right grabbed her by the chin and
glared into her eyes. “You don’t like?” she mocked,
then laughed wickedly and shoved her back under. “Too bad.”

That was the last thing she heard. When they
dunked her this time, they held her down until a serene blackness
engulfed her. She felt no pain and no more panic.

They dragged her out of the water by the hair as
they laughed and let her drop on the rocky bank and walked away.

Cody had been the last one to arrive in the
village and, with it near sunrise, left his horse at his lodge. He
quietly made his way to Tall Deer’s lodge, listening for any
noise coming from inside. It was quiet so he figured Suzanne had
fared well through the night. Apparently, all of the white women had fared well
since none were on public display, defiled, or dead.

He whistled softly for his horse to follow him to the river and, after letting him drink, took him back to rest with the rest of the horses. He went to his lodge
and got a bar of soap, something of the white man’s ways that
he truly enjoyed, and headed back to the river to bathe. He was tired
and smelled bad and a bath was just what he needed.

He stripped and went into the water and swam a
little, making no noise, then went to work with the bar of soap. He
enjoyed the water and swam in it until his muscles ached, trying to
get Suzanne out of his mind. He knew she was in danger. He had to get
her away from Tall Deer and his psychotic son, Walking Bull. He
wasn’t sure how, but he knew it had to be soon. She wasn’t
the type to give into his sexual appetites and if she didn’t,
she was as good as dead.

The thought weighed heavily on his mind. He never
should have brought her here. He should have left her with her
strange machine. She wasn’t cut out for this sort of life. It
was too hard and it was obvious she was used to an easier way. He
thought again that maybe she was a person of the stars, despite her
denials. There was nothing normal about her. She looked different,
smelled different and dressed outrageously. She was not of this world
and he had to get her back to where he’d found her.

He trudged up the bank to let the air dry him off
and sat in the stillness of the dark blue sky, his thoughts on her
and what had happened at the fort. If only he had been two minutes
earlier, maybe he could have claimed her. Tall Deer wouldn’t
have questioned that. It was their way. Now she was in the hands of
the evil man and his demented son, and he was worried. He envisioned
her being tortured, mutilated, raped and even killed. He dropped his
head in his hands in agony. What had he done?

He heard a soft gasp close by. It was very faint. At first, he thought he was imagining things until he heard a cough. A heavy cough
as if to clear your lungs.

He quickly put his clothes on and crept toward the
source, hoping he wasn’t going to interrupt a meeting with
lovers who often came here to meet privately.

He heard the gasp again and some rocks move a
little above him. He looked closely in the pale light and could make
out the skin of a white woman and the long blond hair. He rushed to
her and sat down and eased her onto her back so he could see who it
was. Suzanne!

“Oh God, honey,” he whispered
sorrowfully when he saw her bruised and battered body. She was
shivering and incoherent. He looked around for her clothes, but it
was still too dark to see anything like that. He stood up, wanting to
take her to his lodge. He carefully lifted her into his arms, getting
a cry of pain from her. “Sh-h,” he whispered. “I’m
sorry.”

He carried her over the sharp rocks up the slight
embankment and through the quiet village to his lodge, which was on
the far end and away from Chief Tall Deer.

He took her inside and gently laid her down on
some soft animal pelts, not able to stop himself from looking at her.
Despite the cuts and bruises, she was still the most beautiful woman
he’d ever seen. Her face wasn’t as pretty now that it was
battered, but, given time, it would heal. Her breasts were round and
full, her belly was slightly protruding and round with the child she
carried, her legs were beaten, but she was stunning despite it all.
But he wasn’t lusting for her. He had deeper feelings for her
than that and would die for her if he had to. After all, it was his
fault she was here. None of this would have happened if he’d
left her with that machine.

He covered her with a blanket and went to his
saddle bags and found his coffee pot and some coffee. He filled the
pot with water and set it to the side, then stoked the fire and added
more wood before laying a metal rack over the rocks and setting the
pot on top of it.

She began to cough again, loud and hard, rolling
onto her side as she coughed up water and began to vomit.

He pushed the blanket away so she wouldn’t
get any on it and helped her to sit up so she wouldn’t choke,
making her cry out in pain and try to get away from him. He pulled
her back and stifled her cry into his shoulder, trying to hush her
coughing and her tears. “Sh-h,” he whispered against her
bruised cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

He could feel she was feverish with his lips, and
touched her cheeks with the back of his hand to double-check. She was
very feverish with a bad cough and a broken arm and pregnant on top
of it all.

He was in over his head. She needed to see a white
man’s doctor. But there wasn’t one for miles. He was on
his own which frightened him even more. He didn’t know how to
heal anyone other than himself. His only option was to ask Lone
Wolf’s wife for advice and do it in such a way that he didn’t
arouse suspicion. He couldn’t tell anyone that she was here or
they would both die.

He kept his arm around her and poured some coffee
into the cup, then held it to her lips and let her take a sip. “Drink
a little more,” he whispered to her and fed her tiny bits at a
time, fearing it would burn her already tender skin if she spilled
any on herself.

She did as he asked, but it didn’t agree
with her. She didn’t get away from him in time and threw up on
his buckskin-clad leg. She knew she had done wrong and fully expected
to be beat again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she
whispered in a hoarse voice, trying to move away from him.

“Sh-h,” he whispered in return,
holding her close with one arm and setting the cup down with the
other and laid her back down on the pelts. He covered her up again
and couldn’t help but kiss her bruised forehead and push her
long blond hair out of her face as she drifted off to sleep. “I’m
so sorry, Suzanne,” he said softly as he gently touched her hot
cheeks. “I wish I’d never brought you here.”

He eventually changed his clothes and cleaned up
the mess she’d made. He finally fell into an exhausted sleep
next to her.

~~~

A few hours later, the camp arose with a roar. The
yellow-haired woman was gone. Her dress had been found on the bank of
the river, torn and shredded. Other than that, there was no sign
of her. The chief was furious.

Cody heard the commotion outside and the uneasy
voices of the men and women speaking about how angry her escape had
made Chief Tall Deer. He was out for blood and vowed to have her
scalp hanging in his lodge.

He listened to the chief screaming angrily and
looked at Suzanne who was breathing laboriously but had not awakened.
He was still close to her but not under the blanket with her and
hoped she stayed still.

“Where is the white woman?” the chief
raged as he passed Cody’s lodge.

He quickly rolled Suzanne onto her side, keeping
her back to the door and moved next to her. He pulled the blanket up
over her head and put his arm around her to make it look like he was
with his lover.

The chief came in unannounced. “You have
her,” he accused without preamble. “You have my woman.”

He looked at the tall, older man over his
shoulder. “I do not have your woman,” he growled
irritably. “This is the woman you gave me.”

“But you say you don’t want woman,”
he rebuked coldly.

“I want this woman,” he said evenly.

“Where is the yellow-haired whore?” he
seethed.

“I don’t know,” he said simply,
still holding her as she began to stir a little.
Please stay still
,
he silently begged.

“If I find she is here or has been here, you
will die,” he said angrily and stormed out.

Cody sat up and stared after the chief. This was a
very dangerous situation. He didn’t care so much about himself,
but he was worried about Suzanne and her child. He had to get her out
of here tonight.

Suzanne began to cough; her small body quaked with
the uncontrollable reflex.

He leaned over and covered her mouth with his hand
in an effort to keep her quiet. There were still many people around
his lodge and he didn’t want to get caught. It would mean
certain death for both of them.

Suzanne began to panic. Still coughing, she
couldn’t breathe and fought at his hand.

“Suzanne, you must be very, very quiet,”
he whispered to her, keeping his hand over his mouth as she coughed.
He eased up on his hand as she still coughed and then looked into her
frightened blue eyes. “It’s a matter of life and death
now,” he whispered and crossed his finger over his lips.

She gazed blankly into his dark eyes and
recognized him, not recalling how she’d come to be here. The
last thing she remembered was being dunked in the river and held
under until she thought she was dead.

“Sh-h,” he soothed, lifting his hand
from her mouth, gazing into her blue eyes. “Sh-h.”

She weakly caught his hand as it passed her face.
“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely, knowing that she was
safer now than she had been since she’d been dragged into the
village.

“Sh-h,” he cautioned gently and gave
her hand an affectionate squeeze. “You must stay quiet.”

He kept her hand in his and ran his other hand
over her cheeks and forehead. She was burning up and needed some
medical attention, but he couldn’t leave her alone.

He knew he could trust Lone Wolf, but he didn’t
want to put his life in jeopardy; the chief was unreasonable enough
to kill anyone who he even suspected of the minutest of crimes. Lone
Wolf had a wife and children to take care of. He didn’t want to
risk his friend’s life, but it was possible that Suzanne could
die before he returned her to that machine and then nobody would ever
know what had happened to her. He needed to get her help for her sake
as well as her child’s. He owed her that and hoped when he went
to see Lone Wolf’s wife, it would be a discreet meeting and not
raise suspicion.