Hell on the Prairie (15 page)

Austen chuckled. “Far from it, my friend.
But that’s part of life. I thought I couldn’t love her any stronger
than I did when we said the wedding words. But as the years have
passed, and with the things we’ve shared –good and bad –I love her
more than ever.”

“
That’s fine for you, but
–”

“
Think about it, brother.” Austen
stepped forward, clapping Derrick’s shoulder. “We’d better get
back. They’ll be coming down here to check on us. Let’s wash this
blood off.” He stood looking into Derrick’s eyes. “No matter what,
I’m glad you discovered what Leah was about to do tonight. You
saved her life –this time.”

***

As they walked back up the embankment of the
river bed, Austen caught his breath, swearing as he came to a stop.
“That looks like David Martin’s horse.”

“
Leah’s father? What’s he doing
here?”

There were three horses tethered at the
front of the little cabin. Austen peered at them, then said, “I
don’t know those other two –”

The wariness in Austen’s voice made Derrick
give him a sharp look. “Think there could be trouble of some
kind?”

“
Maybe. I have no use for
Martin.”

“
Let’s go see.”

Raised voices filtered from inside the cabin
as they neared.

Austen put a staying hand on Derrick’s arm.
“Just wait. Let’s see what we’re walking into.”

“
Leah, you will return! As my
daughter, you will do as I say,” Martin announced.

“
Why?” Derrick breathed, shooting
Austen a quick glance. They stood just below the open window of the
front room, out of sight.

Austen shook his head, but Derrick could
read the knowledge in his friend’s eyes, even before Martin spoke
again.

“
John Red Bird has offered for your
hand.”

“
Jesus
!”
Derrick started out from the shadows. He didn’t know David Martin,
but he sure as
hell
knew John
Red Bird. Or, knew
of
him.
His reputation for cruelty bordered on insanity. There was no way
her father could be unaware of that fact.

“
I won’t –” Leah began from inside,
but whatever she was about to say was cut off as Derrick threw the
door open and stepped inside.

Leah looked up at him, humiliation staining
the tawny loveliness of her skin. In her eyes, though, he could see
she was not going to give in and go quietly with her father.

The idea that Martin had not succeeded
in crushing his daughter’s spirit all these years was something
Derrick could not put aside. He knew her thoughts of ending her
life were not because of the disfavor she’d fallen into with her
father. Nor were they for her
own
dishonor. She had been thinking of the child –a child she had
not wanted, yet, somehow, had come to love, despite the brutal
circumstances of its very existence. And regardless of who the
father had been. No matter what, it was half hers –and she wanted
to protect it from life without a father.

Half-white, fitting into neither world,
Leah’s son or daughter would be plummeted into the loneliest
existence imaginable. And how would Leah be able to fend for both
of them?

“
Things were getting loud in here,”
Austen said in soft warning, looking around the room.

“
I’m here to take Leah home as my
wife.” John Red Bird spoke as if it were fact already and there was
no need for her agreement.

“
I wouldn’t marry you if you begged
me!”

Red Bird turned to face her, his lips
turning upward into a snarl. “It is
you
who will be begging! I am humiliating myself
by taking you to wife. If your father wasn’t giving me so many
horses, I would leave you here to rot –you and your
bastard.”

The last word had barely left his mouth
before Derrick was upon him, leaping past Leah as she took a
startled step backward. He tackled Red Bird to the floor of the
small cabin.

Derrick raised his fist and slammed it into
Red Bird’s nose, feeling a satisfying crunch. But Red Bird
recovered from his surprise as anger took over. He rolled, pinning
Derrick under him, taking a savage swing at Derrick.

Derrick caught his arm, looking up
into the murderous face above him.
How
could any father allow his daughter to be betrothed to such a
man?

He managed to push Red Bird off, and both of
them grappled for a good hold on one another as they rose to their
knees, then stood.

Red Bird reached to pull a blade from his
belt, and Derrick heard Leah’s gasp from behind him.

Red Bird’s move didn’t put fear in Derrick’s
heart, by any means. The things he’d been through in his past made
this fight seem like child’s play. Red Bird was predictable. When
he lunged, Derrick seized his arm with both hands, bringing it down
on the edge of the table. Red Bird’s wrist snapped like a dry tree
branch. He cried out, giving a high-pitched scream, then fell on
the floor, cradling his broken wrist.

Derrick stood over him, panting.
“Listen to me,” he said, watching Red Bird writhe on the floor.
“Both of you.” He shot Martin a hard look. “Leah will
not
be forced to marry against her
will.”

Martin started forward, and Austen
gripped his shoulder with a firm hand. He stopped, pinning Derrick
with a baleful glare. “You have made a mistake,” he declared. “My
daughter will do as I say until she is married. And I say
she
will
marry John Red
Bird.” He cast a look at Leah. “What are you waiting for? Go and
gather your things.”

But Leah raised her head proudly, refusing
to move. When Derrick turned to look at her, she did not meet his
eyes, but looked through her father as if he were made of glass.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she held herself stiffly.

The room was silent but for Red Bird’s
mewling and gasping for breath on the floor at Derrick’s feet. Red
Bird must have gotten in a couple of good punches, he thought, his
hand going to his bruised ribs. Or maybe that soreness was courtesy
of his earlier fight with Austen. That brought a fleeting smile to
his lips.

Remembering what had brought this battle
with John Red Bird about, his earlier anger returned quickly.

Derrick had only been in love once in his
life, with a woman who had betrayed him. While he’d been away
fighting for the Confederacy, Jolene had married a Union soldier.
She had been a beautiful woman, but Derrick had never been certain
of her –as it turned out, with good cause.

Looking at the defiance in Leah’s lovely
features, he knew he could always be sure of her, no matter what.
She had an honesty that both heartened and amused him; and a sweet
sincerity that could be the forerunner of love.

Did she see any redeeming quality in him, he
wondered? No matter what he’d done, he didn’t believe she would
reject him over John Red Bird. He hadn’t given marriage another
thought after Jolene had done what she’d done. Leah was a lady. She
needed someone to be kind to her, to provide for her; someone to
make a home with for her little one –and others that might
follow.

“
Think about it,” Austen had said. But
how could he? How could
she
?

Much as she might want to believe she had a
choice –Derrick and she both knew what it had narrowly escaped
being earlier this evening. There was no more time to “think about
it.” He met Leah’s eyes.

“
Leah and I are going to be married,”
he heard himself saying. “And Martin, you can keep your damn
horses.”

***

Martin and Red Bird stomped from the cabin,
headed for the medicine man’s quarters to get Red Bird’s arm set
before they started for home.

“
You are dead to me,” Martin told Leah
as he started out the door.

“
As you are to me,” she replied
haughtily.

Martin looked as if he’d like to give her a
slap for her insolence, but Derrick stepped forward, putting
himself between them.

The door slammed shut, and Josie gathered
the children, shooing them into their beds.

“
A wise decision,” Austen said softly
to Derrick. “I leave you two to sort out your plans.” With a wink,
he turned to follow Josie to the bedroom.

It was Leah who came to Derrick and took his
hand in hers.

“
Are you sorry you spoke for me?” She
looked up at him with a half-teasing light in her eyes.

He gave a short laugh. “No. Are
you
?”

She shook her head. “It’s late. Maybe you’d
rather sleep…think about it…I won’t hold you to it in the morning,
if you’ve changed your mind.”

He moved to put his arms around her. “That’s
enough ‘thinking about it’. I’m not gonna change my mind.”

She laughed softly.

“
What’s funny?” he asked.

“
What we were talking about earlier,
about how, in our society, our standing comes from our mothers’
side. Women have much power in our culture,” she teased. The smile
faded and she became serious again. “I wondered…has it occurred to
you that –no matter
who
your
father is, or is not –if you marry me, you will be officially a
Cherokee citizen? And…our children will always know their heritage.
”

“
They’ll never have to wonder, no
doubt about that.” He gave her a wry smile. “Once we’re married,
there’ll be no turning back, Leah –for either of us.”

“
Derrick, there’s something I have to
know –”

“
I already suspect what it is you’re
worried about. It’s not about you and me. We’re gonna be fine. Love
–that’ll come with time, with a good start. It’s the baby…about it
being Clark Davis’s baby, and about him raping you.”

Leah laid her head on Derrick’s shoulder and
he could feel the warmth of her tears on his shirt.

“
Can you love him, or her? Can you be
a good father? My father was a tyrant –”

Derrick gave a faint smile at the
understatement. “Yet, look at you.” He held her away from him,
staring down into her face. “You survived, and you’re so –” he
broke off, fumbling for the right words.

“
Stubborn?” she supplied.
“Stiff-necked?”

“
No.” He ran his thumb over the soft
silk of her hair, pulled back into a loose bun. “So damn beautiful
–inside and out.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “It almost sounds
as if you mean those pretty words.”

“
I do, Leah. If I could’ve done this
any differently, I would’ve. Given us some time…made a better
impression on your father.” He grinned, and she gave a soft
chuckle.

“
Not that
that
would make a difference,” she
noted.

“
Clark Davis is dead. He’ll never hurt
you again. And this child –” he laid a hand gently on her stomach
–“doesn’t know a thing about how he’s gotten here or what kind of
person his father was. I think…if we try…we can keep it that way
until he’s old enough to understand.”

“
You fought for me…for
us
–” She placed her hand atop his.
“Derrick, no one’s ever done that before. No one has ever…” She
moved to touch his cheek.

In that moment, Derrick knew he would always
fight for her, and for her child, no matter what. He’d drifted long
enough; seen enough of the seedy side of the world. He was ready
for something good in his life. He wasn’t the only one who had
suffered, but one thing he knew –he wasn’t alone anymore. When it
had happened, he wasn’t sure –maybe when he’d come upon Leah
pondering her jump from the rock shelf earlier tonight. Maybe even
earlier, when she’d questioned him at the table.

He’d always tried to do the right thing –but
he’d gotten sidetracked. Still, the desire was there to be the kind
of man he knew he could be, but had given up on. Raising Clark
Davis’s child would be a challenge. But he’d seen the love and
protectiveness for her child in Leah’s face earlier when her father
and John Red Bird had crowded the doorway of the small cabin. Even
her thoughts of ending her life had been to protect the baby.

His father’s words came back to him, as if
whispered on the still, autumn night.

“
It takes a man to raise another man’s
son,” Derrick said softly, “with kindness in his heart, no matter
the circumstances.”

Leah’s beautiful dark eyes grew misty,
as if he was giving her a dream she could never have imagined, or
asked for. Someday, he would tell her everything about his own
upbringing. Someday, he’d tell her how deeply he understood
exactly
what he was committing
himself to. But for now, he only pulled her close and put a finger
to her lips as she started to speak. No one else could understand
what Leah was feeling right now –no one but him. The words were
simple –a promise he could make her as no other man in the world
could. Trust and love had to start somewhere.

“
I am that man, Leah.” And then, so
there would be no misunderstanding that he intended to embrace both
the white world and his Cherokee side that had been so long denied,
he said it again as she came into his arms. In Cherokee. In her
language –in
their
language.

And with everything in him, he meant it.

THE END