Logan's Outlaw (5 page)
Authors: Elaine Levine
“The warriors are coming back, aren't they?”
He didn't answer her. He didn't need to answer her.
“Oh, God. No,” she mumbled, over and over as she snatched up her satchel and the attached bedrolls. She backed a few steps away from him, then pivoted and ran for the thin line of trees that bordered the river.
“What are you doing?” Logan followed her. She stuffed the pack into a hollow at the cavernous base of an old cottonwood, then covered it with branches and leaves.
“Hurry! We have to hide.” She ran frantically along the bank, searching for something. He followed her.
“We don't have to hide. I won't let them harm you.”
She found the perfect hiding place inside a thick stand of cottonwoods where saplings grew from the roots of the older trees. Holding her skirts tight to her body, she pushed her way inside the screening, careful not to break any branches.
“Mrs. Hawkins, please. There is no need for this panic.” He reached out and snagged her arm as the wide, green leaves slipped over her body. Even if she did nothing more than that, it would have been hard to spot her, standing as she was in her brown homespun dress amid the dense foliage of the lower brush.
“They're coming. They will do to us what they did to the passengers,” she hissed. “I don't want to die, not that way. And I won't be taken again. Hide with me. Hide now.” She withdrew into the arms of the saplings, disappearing into the bank, perfectly camouflaged. In seconds flat there was no sign that anyone had been there. He'd seen native women take longer to hide themselves and their young from soldiers and bounty men hunting the tribe than it had taken Sarah to disappear.
Logan lifted his hat and shoved his hand through his hair. The woman was scared through and through. There was no convincing her that he would protect her. He made his way back up the bank and walked a few yards away, haunted by the terror in her eyes.
He wasn't sure what he became aware of firstâthe percussion of hooves against the hard ground or the noise of galloping horses. The band of warriors they had met earlier thundered to a stop in a semicircle around him. Two of the warriors rode Morgans from the coach, leading their paints and the other two horses from the coach. One of them used Logan's expensive Spanish saddle. Loot from the wagon was tied in bundles behind them. Three of the warriors had bloody scalps fixed to their shields.
Christ.
There was nothing he could do about the other passengers. Had they not put Sarah out, he would have gladly negotiated on their behalf. No matter what his feelings for them were, no one deserved deaths such as they'd likely met. None of that mattered now. Making an issue of the attack would serve no purpose in the bartering he was going to have to do to obtain Sarah's release from her Sioux husband.
There was nothing he could do about the other passengers. Had they not put Sarah out, he would have gladly negotiated on their behalf. No matter what his feelings for them were, no one deserved deaths such as they'd likely met. None of that mattered now. Making an issue of the attack would serve no purpose in the bartering he was going to have to do to obtain Sarah's release from her Sioux husband.
Logan could feel the burn of Sarah's gaze from her hiding spot. He hoped like hell she held her fire.
Cloud Walker ordered the man leading the two spare ponies to bring them forward. An antelope was draped over the back of one of them. “We bring you horses so that you don't have to walk.”
Logan did not spare a glance for the horses. “I have nothing to trade for them. I cannot accept them.”
Cloud Walker looked around them. “Where is Swift Elk's wife?”
“
My
wife is preparing our camp.”
My
wife is preparing our camp.”
Cloud Walker had one of his men cut the antelope off the pony. He dropped it at Logan's feet. “We have brought an antelope for Yellow Moon to prepare for us. We will smoke and talk about the ponies while she cooks.”
“I will summon her.”
Logan went down the embankment, putting the trees between him and Cloud Walker's band to obscure Sarah's hiding spot. Even knowing where she was, he had to search for her. “Mrs. Hawkins, you were right. They have come back.” Her head lifted up. Leaves were stuck in her hair. “They've brought us an antelope and requested that you prepare it for them. Do you know how to do the butchering?”
She nodded.
“Could you please join us?”
She violently shook her head.
“It is best that we don't anger them by rejecting their gift. They have also brought us ponies to ride.” He reached over and pulled a leaf out of her hair. “I will negotiate for your freedom. Do you think you can trust me?”
“You, maybe. Not them. They will dine with us, then kill us. They turn in a flash. You don't know them like I do.”
“I do know them, but I know them differently.”
“What of the stage passengers?”
Logan sighed. “They have the horses from the stage, my saddle, and three fresh scalps.”
“Oh, God. Oh, God.” She covered her mouth and immediately ceased all sound. She shook her head. Her eyes pleaded with him, terror drawing the blood from her face.
“Never mind. I shouldn't have asked. I'll tell them you're sick and cannot prepare their meal.”
“No! It won't matter to them. They won't accept that answer. They killed our fellow travelers, Mr. Taggert. It's wrong that you would have me cook for them. It's wrong. They are evil. They will kill us, too.”
Logan sighed. “Their people are at war with ours. What they did, against your settlement, against the coach, was an act of war. You and I are fortunate that they don't see us as enemies at the moment. I'm asking you to cook for them because they are hungry, and I am hungry, and because it will make our negotiations go better.”
Sarah pushed up from her leaf cover. For a long moment, she studied his eyes. At last, she nodded and smoothed debris from her hair. Logan could see the tremor in her hands. “I need to gather firewood.”
He lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Running would not be a good choice, sweetheart. I need you to trust me on this.”
“I won't run.”
When she approached the camp a short while later, she made a pile of thin sticks near the antelope and left some items she'd taken from her satchel, seasonings and such that she'd brought for the trip. She collected kindling and larger pieces of firewood, which she laid out in a circle near where the men sat in a circle. She propped a few tall rocks on either side of the fire to brace the skewers upon. Logan handed her his matches to light the kindling. When the fire was started, he watched as she set to work on the antelope. It had already been gutted, Logan knew. The warriors would have eaten the liver and heart immediately after the kill, and would have emptied the intestines of any foodstuffs the animal had grazed on recently. The rest of the innards they'd have left at the kill site for the carrion to take.
She skinned one side of the animal, then carved out several thin strips of meat. She pounded these between large river rocks to tenderize the tough antelope meat, then seasoned and skewered them. Logan watched her make short work of the carcass, lining up dozens of skewers to cook.
Sarah Hawkins was an enigma. Sometimes frightened and fragile, sometimes brave and resourceful. She could walk all day without complaining, though he knew she had to be as tired as he was. She could hide in an instant like a native and prepare an antelope like an experienced butcherâall things few white women were able or willing to do. He wondered if she was aware of her very considerable strengths.
Cloud Walker started a pipe, drawing and releasing smoke as an offering to the four directions, the Earth, and the sky before taking a smoke of his own. When the pipe was passed to him, Logan drew the smoke into his lungs, held it until it burned. He passed the pipe to the man next to him and slowly released the smoke.
“Shadow Wolf, what have you to trade for the two horses we offer?” Cloud Walker asked once every man in the circle had smoked from the pipe.
“I have a very fine saddle that I would consider trading in exchange for the two horses and a knife.”
“Where is that saddle? I do not see it among your things.”
“I left it with the black coach. They were to deliver it to Fort Laramie, where it would be held for my arrival.”
“That is my saddle,” one of the braves asserted. “I took it in the raid on the coach. It is not yours to trade with,” he claimed.
Logan made no comment, but looked at Cloud Walker. If ownership was determined by possession, then they could not claim Swift Elk still owned Mrs. Hawkins. The crafty old Indian caught the implication.
“We did not know the saddle was yours, Shadow Wolf. We will take it in trade for the ponies.”
“And a knife. That saddle is valued, in my world, at a man's work for half a year. Ponies are but a day's work for a man in your world.”
“Ponies cannot be acquired as easily as in days past. And each pony is of no value until someone has spent many weeks training him. As you know, owning one could be the difference between traveling across this land and dying within it. You don't value horses as you should.”
Logan nodded his head. “It is true that the ponies are of significant importance. I will be pleased to exchange my saddle for the two ponies and a knife.”
Cloud Walker ordered Many Deer, the warrior who had claimed the saddle, to give his knife to Shadow Wolf. The warrior was not pleased with the decision, but he complied. He withdrew the knife from the sheath at his belt and threw it with lethal precision so that it landed in the space between Logan's crossed legs and his crotch, embedding itself in the hard dirt.
“It is done,” Cloud Walker said as he motioned that the negotiation for the horses was completed. The pipe was again passed around the group.
Sarah brought the skewered cuts of meat over to the campfire and braced them across the rocks she had placed strategically in a ring about the fire. She'd rolled up the sleeves of her dress to tend to her work, and now the firelight danced over scars that marred her pale skin. Logan tore his gaze away, but his mind snagged on what he'd seen. Did such scars cover her body? He'd heard horror stories of women taken captive, some reports sensationalized, some understated. Her experience had left her frightened and scarred, yet here she was using the skills she'd learned as a captive on behalf of warriors like those who'd captured her, all because he'd asked her to.
“It has been decided, Shadow Wolf, on the matter of Yellow Moon, that you will be allowed to fight one of our men. If you win, we will negotiate a price for her. If you lose, we will take her back to Swift Elk.”
Logan released a breath of blue smoke, watching it writhe and swirl as it merged with the evening air, rising to the Great Spirit, carrying his silent prayer to be victorious. “I accept that challenge.”
When the meat was cooked, the warriors hungrily dug into their portions. Sarah replenished skewers over the fire, keeping the food coming. When she set a fourth round to cook, Logan caught her wrist, stopping her quick retreat from the circle of men. She froze, her face pale in the failing light of the evening.
“Have you eaten?”
She shook her head. Logan gave her the last skewer he'd taken from the fire. “Sit behind me and eat this.”
Sarah did as he directed, though fear made it difficult to eat. She'd heard Mr. Taggert's calm acceptance of the fight challenge. He did not seem afraid. Nothing fouled his inner tranquility. She took a bite of the roasted meat. If Mr. Taggert was not successful in his bid to win her, he would be killed, and she would be left to the mercy of Cloud Walker and his men. She had no doubt they would return her to Swift Elk. Once they were finished with her.
Cloud Walker stood up to make a pronouncement.
“Shadow Wolf and Many Deer will now fight. You will both pick your weapons. Guns are not an acceptable choice.”
Many Deer's eyes were lit with a vengeful fury. He borrowed a knife from another of the men and walked a ways off from the fire. Mr. Taggert went to his saddle and untied his rope. He coiled it into wide loops that he draped over his head to lie across his shoulder, keeping the noose end in easy reach. Bare-handed, Mr. Taggert followed Many Deer.
Sarah felt like crying. Fear clung to her like a shadow. She couldn't shame Mr. Taggert by weeping over him in front of his opponent. They would think she lamented his lack of prowess. She turned away, intending to retreat to the riverbed while the warriors were focused on the fight. If she could get back to her hiding spot, she might be able to elude the warriors by slipping down the river if things went bad.
Cloud Walker stepped in front of her. She resisted looking up at him, but she couldn't avoid his hissed comment. “This is what you, a faithless woman, have brought upon two brave men. One will die tonight. Because of you.”
She stood frozen in place, crippled by the warring forces of guilt, fear, and a desperate need to live. She looked back at the men facing off. Cloud Walker was about to start their competition.
“Stop this!” Her words were spoken in English. “Stop!” she repeated in Sioux. “It is not right that harm come to anyone because of me. Mr. Taggert, I will go with them.”
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