Authors: Patricia Hagan
"Well, the fact is, most of them do speak enough English to get by. But they also know deserters are shot if they're found."
As though wanting to avoid suspicion that they would even consider such a grave offense as desertion, the scouts began to move away—all except the dirty-faced boy, Steve noted, who continued to stare from behind the thick curtain of hair across his eyes.
Wacksmith also noticed that the boy had not left, and a thought occurred to him. "They might let you borrow Little Crow. He's not much good as a scout. All he does is help with the horses."
Steve had a sinking sensation to think he might have to rely on a mere boy but figured he was better than nothing. "Well, what about it? You want to go with me, Little Crow?" He took a step toward him, intending to put a hand on the Indian's shoulder in a gesture of friendship, but the boy suddenly bolted and ran.
Wacksmith laughed. "He don't let nobody get near him. He's a strange one. But talk to Captain Puckett. He might make him go with you."
Steve returned to the post commander's office, where Captain Puckett was quick to say he would be glad to order Little Crow to be Steve's guide. "As Sergeant Wacksmith probably told you, we only let him hang around because he's good with the horses. He's got an uncanny knack. It's like they actually understand everything he says to them."
Steve thanked him and turned to go.
"When will you be leaving?" Puckett called.
"First thing in the morning. I'm tired; so's my horse. And I need to gather fresh supplies."
"Then have dinner with me and my officers tonight. I'd like to hear more about Alabama and the growing issue over slavery, especially since that book came out that's caused such an uproar—
Uncle Tom's Cabin."
"I'd be pleased to join you, Captain, but I don't know that I can share much with you in the way of politics. Since I don't own any slaves, I try to stay out of the controversy."
Puckett raised a brow in question. "But this man you work for, who owns a plantation, he has slaves, doesn't he?"
"Yes, but they're treated well," Steve was quick to assure.
"But they're still in bondage," Puckett said with an air of disdain. "Well, we can talk more tonight. Besides, I'm curious as to why a man would send someone so far to find a half-breed girl. Maybe I can persuade you to tell me."
"I'm afraid I can't help you there." Steve smiled. "I just do what I'm told." He tipped his hat and left.
* * *
Neither man had been aware that Little Crow was crouched outside the window, concealed by scrub brush and listening to everything they said.
Captain Puckett, Little Crow mused with a frown, was not the only one curious over why Steve Maddox was searching for Raven.
And now the need to find out burned even deeper.
Alabama.
The stranger named Steve Maddox was from Alabama! And long ago, Little Crow had seen letters that came sometimes from that faraway place.
The letters had contained money. Dirty money, Little Crow's mother had said bitterly, from a man trying to buy freedom from his guilt.
But that was in another time, another life.
Chapter 4
Raven stared at the stranger from behind her long thick bangs. It was early morning, and she had just started feeding the stock when Corporal Gooden called her to the blacksmith shop.
"This here is Mr. Steve Maddox." Corporal Gooden winced as he propped his bruised leg on a barrel opposite the one he was sitting on. "Captain Puckett wants you to see that he gets to the Sabine reservation safely. You
do
know the way, don't you?"
Gooden smirked at Steve. "Little Crow is a wizard when it comes to horses, but the few patrols he led out didn't do much. He showed up here about a year ago, said his family was all dead and he needed work and a place to stay, and since he was no trouble and would do anything he was told, we didn't run him off."
Gooden looked to Raven again. "Well, boy, speak up. Do you know the way or don't you?"
"I know the way," she responded, in the deep, husky voice she had practiced in hopes of sounding like a boy. It had worked so far; no one had suspected otherwise. "It is the land of my people."
"You speak pretty good English," Steve observed.
Raven merely looked at him.
"Did you understand what was said between me and Sergeant Wacksmith in the blacksmith shop yesterday and how I'm looking for a half-breed girl called Raven?"
She nodded with a blank expression.
"The girl is half Tonkawa," Steve explained, in case that made any difference.
"Little Crow is Tonkawa," Corporal Gooden said.
Steve was suddenly buoyed and said, "Then maybe you know something about her."
"I don't think so," Raven said woodenly, suspiciously. "But why are you looking for her?"
"I'm not at liberty to say except to assure you I mean her no harm." He turned to Gooden. "Maybe I'd be better off going back to San Antonio and trying to hire a guide there." Little Crow seemed hostile, and that could mean problems.
"Suit yourself, but with all the Indian raids lately, you might not find one willing to go if it's just going to be the two of you. They want soldiers along in case of attack. And no matter what trail you take from there to the Sabine, if you don't know how to avoid them, you're apt to run into Indians. If I was you, I'd let Little Crow lead the way. He might be young, but he probably still knows more about that territory than any white man. Indians learn things like that at an early age."
Steve appraised the boy again and saw that his eyes, though barely visible behind the bangs, were unmistakably defiant. He obviously did not like having his ability doubted. "I'm not sure. I still think I'd do better on my own."
Gooden laughed. "If you consider getting scalped doing better, then take off. But I don't think you've got to worry. In my opinion, I suspect Little Crow only pretends not to be a good scout so the army won't use him, because he'd rather hang around here and help me with the horses than go out on patrol. Wouldn't you, boy?" He gave Raven a playful shove.
Raven stumbled backward but quickly got her balance. Ignoring Corporal Gooden, she assured Steve, "If you will do as I say, I will do my best to get you there safely."
Steve thought a moment. He really could not afford to waste time looking for another guide, so he agreed, hoping he was not making a mistake. "All right. Get your things and let's go, but I want it understood we don't drag our feet getting there. I want to move fast."
Raven had conditions of her own. "And I want it understood that I set the pace. I cannot be alert for danger if I am in a hurry."
Steve waved her away. "We can argue later."
Raven was not worried. He would learn soon enough how things would be, and as soon as she found out why he was looking for her, she would leave him to fend for himself.
She reasoned he could only have been sent by her father, but why? He certainly hadn't cared about her before. She knew all about Ned Ralston, and how he had sworn he loved her mother and promised to come back to her and then sent his dirty money instead, to appease his conscience for having lied. Her mother had told her everything when she felt she was old enough to understand, and she knew her mother had been deeply hurt. Not only had Ned Ralston broken her heart, he had also shamed her before her people, because when it became known that she was carrying a white man's baby, the Tonkawas had been furious. They had demanded she allow the shaman to end her pregnancy. When she refused, eventually marrying Seth, she had been banished from the tribe.
Raven did not like to imagine what life would have been like without Seth. A kindhearted man, he had searched for her mother at Ned Ralston's request, only to fall in love with her himself. Lakoma, he swore, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He also felt sorry for her and wanted to take care of her, and Lakoma saw his proposal of marriage as a way to escape the taunts and mistreatment of the Tonkawas.
Seth had been good to them, and Raven had looked to him as a father. But she had sensed her mother had never returned his love. Ned Ralston had taken her heart with him when he abandoned her. That was another reason Raven resented him, blaming him for her mother's inability to let go of the past and return the love that a wonderful man like Seth offered.
When her mother died, Raven had seen a light go out in Seth's eyes. A part of him had died too, and Raven knew he only held on to life for her sake. When he finally let go, after coming down with a fever only a short while after they got to the reservation, Raven could not have grieved more had he been her true father. For the first time in her life, she realized what it meant to be truly alone in the world.
The agents who had been Seth's friends tried to look after her, but life soon became unbearable. Had Seth been alive to see how she was treated, she knew he would have moved heaven and earth to take her away from there. The Indians shunned her as a half-breed; even worse, some of the men on the reservation took the attitude that her kind was good for only one thing, and she was constantly having to dodge their bold advances.
Then there were the not-infrequent proposals of marriage from single or widowed settlers or prospectors wanting someone to warm their bed, cook their meals, and bear their children. Women were scarce. It made no difference to wife-seekers whether they married a full-blooded Indian or a half-breed, and even if it had, once they saw Raven, they wanted her above all others.
But Raven was not about to marry a man just to have security as her mother had done, despite her mother's good fortune that Seth had loved her. So she kept to herself as she had always done. A loner, she found solace working with the horses.
Then came a nasty encounter with a young Kiowa one night when he found her alone in the stable. She was keeping watch over a sick horse when True Hawk made advances to her. When she refused him, he became angry and tried to force her. To defend herself, she had cut him with her knife.
Upon hearing about it, agent Thad Slawson declared that to keep from having any more trouble, he was going to find a husband for Raven right away, whether she liked it or not. So that very day she ran away from the reservation, with only the clothes on her back and her mustang pony, Diablo.
For a while, she survived by hunting and fishing for food, but she knew she was living on borrowed time. To encounter a band of renegades could only mean tragedy for a young woman traveling alone.
Then one day as she was hiding behind some rocks watching an army patrol pass by, she saw an Indian riding with them. His hair was streaming down to his shoulders and he was dressed in a blue uniform like the soldiers. She knew he had to be an Indian scout; she had seen a few while living at the trading post near Fort Inge.
Suddenly the idea had struck.
She could do anything those scouts could do, but the army would never take in a female.
Then and there, Raven decided to pass for a boy.
First, she brushed her hair down over her eyes and cut bangs to conceal the top part of her face, then rubbed dirt on her cheeks to make her soft skin less noticeable. She returned to the reservation only long enough to steal men's clothing. With loose-fitting shirts and pants, her bosom tightly bound, her feminine shape would not be obvious.
She took the name Crow. Her mother had named her Raven because of the color of her hair, and she reasoned that crows were also black.
Wanting to get far away from the Sabine reservation, lest she be recognized, Raven had made the arduous trek southwest, winding up back at Fort Inge, where the soldiers eventually dubbed her
Little
Crow, because she was smaller than the other scouts.
At first, the soldiers did not want her, saying she was too young, but she kept hanging around anyway, and when Corporal Gooden discovered Little Crow was wonderful with horses, he allowed the youngster to stay.
Of course it was necessary for her to be a loner. She could not allow herself to get caught in intimate situations with men, like bathing and sleeping. But no one suspected anything, assuming
Little Crow
was sensitive about
his
size and wanted no confrontation with the others.