Woman of Courage (18 page)

A bloodcurdling war-whoop split through the air. Jim turned in his saddle. A painted Indian warrior was riding hard and fast across the open field, heading directly toward him.

Jim’s throat went dry. If this Indian was part of a war party, more red men would follow. Would he be able to outrun them? If he were outnumbered, to stay and fight would surely mean death—or worse yet, capture. Stories among the mountain men often dealt with the extremes to which some Indian tribes would go in dealing out torture to their captives. Jim shuddered at the thought of what his fate might ultimately be.

He should probably say some kind of a prayer to prepare himself for the hereafter, but nothing came to mind, so he kicked Wind Dancer hard in the sides and slapped the reins forcefully, urging the spotted stallion into a full run.

The Indian’s cries became louder as he closed in on Jim. He turned, just in time to see the red man draw his bow. All Jim could think was that he might never see his wife and son again. Just when life had become more meaningful, was it about to be taken from him? Could God be so cruel to him once again?

T
he arrow swished past Jim’s head, coming so close it knocked his fur hat to the ground. White-hot anger bubbled in his chest, knowing how fast his life could have ended. He wasn’t ready to die. He had too much to live for. He had a wife and a child. Mary needed a provider, and Little Joe needed his father. Jim had no choice. There wasn’t time to run. He would have to fight to save himself. Fight for all he was worth.

Dust swirled from the ground as Jim halted his horse and quickly dismounted. He reached for his rifle still strapped to the side of his saddle. When he looked to the right, he saw the Indian dismount. The red man dropped his bow and pulled out a knife. In turn, Jim dropped his gun and grabbed his own knife. In an instant, Jim could have shot the Indian dead, but a fair fight was a fair fight. He stood his ground, crouched and ready to meet the charge of his opponent.

The Blackfoot warrior let out a war cry as he ran forward with the agility of a bobcat. Jim met the charge with the ferocity of a grizzly bear, and he grasped the other man’s arm with unknown strength, forcing the Indian to drop his gleaming knife to the ground.

Jim felt some measure of surprise, and the Indian seemed to, as well, for Jim now had the upper hand. He knew he had only to thrust the point of his knife deep into the opponent’s chest, and the encounter would be finished.

Jim lifted the knife in readiness, staring deep into the other man’s dark eyes. What was it he saw there? Fear? Doubt? Questions? He wasn’t sure, but for some unknown reason, Jim snorted and threw the knife aside. Then, using hand gestures, he indicated that the Blackfoot Indian was free to go. He hoped the red man understood, because if he didn’t, Jim might be forced to kill him after all.

A look of surprise crossed the Indian’s face. He muttered a few words in his native tongue, then following a brief pause, ran quickly to his waiting horse. He never looked back—just rode hard and fast into the stand of trees from which he had come.

Jim stood trembling for several moments, dazed and shaken.
Why’d I let that savage go?
he asked himself.
Why didn’t I just kill him while I had the chance? He’ll probably meet up with his Blackfoot party, turn around, and chase me, and I’ll be dog meat for sure
.

He slapped the side of his head with the palm of his hand, wondering if he’d gone soft in the brain. “If I ain’t careful, it could be my undoing,” he muttered.

By early afternoon, Buck, tired of sitting inside the stuffy cabin, told Amanda he was going outside for some fresh air.

“That’s fine,” she said sweetly. “Mary’s tending the baby right now, and I will be doing some cleaning, so it’s the perfect time for thee to get some air.”

He frowned at her. “Are ya ever gonna stop sayin’
thee
and
thou
? It really gets on my nerves.”

Amanda blinked her blue eyes rapidly. “I … I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it bothered thee so.” She clasped her hand over her mouth and mumbled, “I mean,
you
, not
thee
. I will try to remember.”

Buck grinned in spite of himself. She looked so innocent, looking up at him as though truly repentant. He guessed it shouldn’t really matter whether she said
you
or
thee
, but Silas Lothard had used the words
thee
and
thou
whenever he forced Buck to sit and listen as he read the Bible every day, so when Amanda said them, Buck thought of Silas. Sometimes Silas forced Buck to memorize verses of scripture. Other times, he would use the verses against him, saying that if Buck didn’t do everything he said, God would make something bad happen to him.

Buck blew out his breath. That was enough reminiscing for now. He needed to focus on something positive. “I’m goin’ outside now,” he said to Amanda. “Let me know when you’re done cleaning.”

She smiled and nodded. “Enjoy your time alone. I am sure it hasn’t been easy for you being cooped up with two women.”

Buck went outside, calling for Thunder to join him. When he stepped onto the porch, he stared across the clearing into the forest where Jim had gone. What he wouldn’t give to be out there with his friend right now. The mountains he loved seemed to be beckoning him.

“What do ya say we take a little walk to the stream?” Buck said, reaching down to rub Thunder behind his ears. “We won’t go far, and maybe by the time we get back the women will have the cabin cleaned.”

Woof! Woof!
The dog responded with a wag of his tail, circling Buck’s legs.

Amanda got busy cleaning the cabin, but her mind kept wandering to Buck and his reasons for not wanting to talk about the Bible.
Does he think God’s Word is only for women?
she wondered.
Does he believe he’s not a sinner who needs to be forgiven? If so, then he really does need to be shown the way to God
.

Amanda’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the cabin door. She was sure it wasn’t Buck, because he would have just walked right in. But in all the time she’d been living here, they’d never had any visitors except for Buck. Standing to one side of the door, she opened it slowly, just far enough to see out.

A hefty, scraggly-looking mountain man wearing a squirrel-skin cap poked his head through the doorway. “Name’s Seth Burrows, and I’m just passing through these parts. My mule drowned in the river and took my gun and supplies right with him. Thought maybe your man might have an extra one he could sell me.”

Amanda wasn’t sure how to respond. She glanced past the porch to see if Buck was in the yard but saw no sign of him. She hoped he hadn’t followed Jim into the woods. To make matters worse, Buck had taken Jim’s dog along, leaving Amanda and Mary with no protection.

“This is Jim Breck’s cabin,” Amanda told the man.

“Aw, and you must be Breck’s woman.” He cocked his head to one side, while looking Amanda up and down.

“Me Jim’s wife,” Mary said, joining Amanda at the door.

“I see. Well, where’s your man?” Seth eyed Mary in a critical way.

“He hunting. Be back soon.”

Seth grunted, pushed past the women, and ambled into the room, flopping into a chair at the table. Just his presence made Amanda feel uncomfortable, and she quickly uttered a prayer for their safety.

“So have ya got a mule I can have?” Seth asked, looking at Mary.

She cast a quick glance in Amanda’s direction. Was she hoping Amanda would offer him one of the pack mules that had been with her when Harvey Hanson was her guide? That might be the Christian thing to do, but when Amanda headed west again, she’d have to travel lighter, with just one mule to carry her things.

“Besides the mule, I could really use a few supplies,” Seth said, glaring at Mary as though she were his enemy. Amanda didn’t know why, but it seemed as if this ill-mannered man felt contempt for Jim’s Indian wife. Could he have had a run-in with Indians at sometime? Or perhaps he was prejudiced against them because of the color of their skin. Amanda had known people like that back in New York. Even a few people in their church thought they were better than others.

“How you know cabin is here?” Mary asked, giving no response to the man’s request for a mule and supplies.

“I seen your smoke.” Seth pointed to the fireplace. “Knew it weren’t no Injun smoke signals, so I followed it, thinkin’ I might find some help.”

Something about the visitor didn’t seem right, and Amanda had felt a keen sense of dislike toward him since he’d first entered the cabin. She brought herself up short, wondering if she, too, was being prejudiced. Or could the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach be a warning that this man wasn’t to be trusted? The sense of apprehension felt similar to when the Blackfeet had surrounded Amanda and her guide.

“I’m plumb tired,” Seth said, yawning. “Have ya got a place where I can bed down for the night?”

Amanda drew back, wincing from the foul breath he’d just expelled. She looked at Mary and couldn’t miss her look of surprise. At no point had either of them said the man was welcome to stay here for the night.
Where is Buck?
Amanda wondered again.
Did this horrible man do something to him?

“Say now, I can sleep right there!” Seth motioned to the mat in front of the fireplace where Buck had been sleeping since he’d been injured. Amanda couldn’t believe the nerve of this unpleasant man.

Seth sniffed the air. “Is that coffee I smell? If so, I’d sure like some.” He turned to face Mary. “Pour me a cup.” The man was so rude!

Mary nodded curtly, but before she started for the stove, Seth hollered, “On second thought, have ya got anything stronger’n coffee?”

Amanda looked at Mary again, hoping she could read her thoughts. If there was any whiskey in the cabin, she hoped Mary wouldn’t offer it to Seth. She knew from seeing drunkards on the streets back home that it could do terrible things—turning a normally kindhearted man into a monster of sorts. And she was sure that Seth Burrows was no kindhearted man.

“Only coffee and water here to drink,” Mary was quick to say.

Amanda breathed a sigh of relief.

Seth grunted. “Coffee it’ll hafta be then.”

Mary poured the man some coffee; then she stood with Amanda, watching the man gulp it down like he was desperate for something to drink. It was almost comical, because Amanda had never seen anyone drink hot coffee that fast before. She suspected at any moment that he’d let out a yell, but he acted no different than if he’d just swallowed some cold mountain water.

“Where’s Buck?” Mary whispered to Amanda.

“I … I don’t know,” Amanda replied, keeping her voice low. “When I opened the door, I didn’t see him anywhere in the yard.”

“Say, ya wouldn’t have anything for me to eat, would ya?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I ain’t had nothin’ in my belly since yesterday mornin’.”

“There is some stew left over from our noon meal,” Amanda said. “I can warm that up for thee, Mr. Burrows.” If the man really had gone that long without eating, they could hardly send him away with an empty stomach. Whether he was here to start trouble or just a poor fellow down on his luck, she hoped he’d be on his way after he ate. She was even considering letting him have one of the mules.

“Seth. Just call me Seth. And sure, I’ll take some of that stew.” He looked at Amanda, winked, and grinned.

Maybe if he eats, he’ll leave quicker
, Amanda told herself as she reheated the stew. If only Jim or Buck were here, or even Thunder. It was unsettling to think that she and Mary were alone in the cabin with this stranger. She wondered if Mary felt as uncomfortable as she did. The man was so big and his odor hard to tolerate. His presence seemed to fill the whole room. Amanda was tempted to walk outside and stand on the porch, hoping to see Buck approaching. But there was no way she would leave poor Mary and her baby alone with this brute of a man. Besides, to get to the door, she would have to walk past Seth, and she definitely didn’t want to do that.
Where art thou, Buck? Please come back to the cabin, and soon
.