Sabrina's Man (20 page)

“All we can do is say we'll find her and we'll try to get her back from LeBeau. He don't let go of things easy.” Roy Denver shrugged. “It'll take some persuading.”

“Yes,” the older Denver said. “A man could get killed.”

“Well, how much money do you want?”

“To buy the equipment? Well, we'd have to have at least five hundred dollars just to get started.”

“All right. Let's go to the bank, and I'll get a check cashed.” She thought for a minute then said, “When can you leave?”

“Oh, we can buy the equipment today and leave at first light,” Roy Denver said.

“All right.” She went with them to the bank and gave them the money.

Roy said, “We'll be leavin' in the morning before you get up.”

“No, I'm going with you.”

The Denver brothers stared at her and then at each other. Roy Denver shook his head. “Ma'am, that is a terrible idea.”

“I'm going, and that's all there is to it.”

The two argued halfheartedly, but finally they said, “Well, it's going to be a rough ride.”

“I don't care how rough it is. I'm going.”

“Well, then you'd better get yourself outfitted. You can't wear a pretty dress like that on the trail.”

“I'll take care of that. Come and get me at the hotel when you're ready to leave in the morning.” She watched the two leave then went at once to buy some rough clothes. She found a riding skirt, for she knew she would have to ride a horse astride, a white lightweight shirt, and a vest with silver pesos for buttons. She found a black hat that had a small brim and a low crown but would be good for heading off the sun.

As she went back to the hotel with her possessions, she glanced up at Judge Parker's office. “I'll show you, Judge Parker, you're not the only fish in the ocean!”

Sabrina was absolutely exhausted. She had ridden for two days now, and the Denver brothers seemed to be made out of leather and steel. They never seemed to be tired.

At the end of the second day, she said, “I can't go any farther.”

Asa Denver shook his head. “Got to go a little further, missy.”

“No, we'll camp here.”

“All right. If you say so.”

She stared at him. “I'm not happy with your work. You don't seem to know where you're going.”

Both men grinned broadly. “We know where we're going, but I hate to tell you we're going without you.”

Sabrina stared at them. They looked like two lean timber wolves at that moment. “What—what are you talking about?”

“We're going to leave you here, and you better count yourself fortunate. Worse things could happen to a nice lady like you with a pair of men like us.”

“You can't leave me here!”

“Why can't we?” Roy Denver grinned. He dismounted, came over, and pulled her off her horse. She carried her money in a leather pouch. He reached down, snatched it, and said, “You have a good time out here.”

Horrified, Sabrina watched the two get on their horses that contained all their equipment, her money, and all she had. Roy Denver was leading her horse. “You can't leave me here!” she cried out.

“Just go back to where you came, honey. You'll find it.”

Sabrina watched them go, and for the first time in her life, real paralyzing fear seemed to grip her in a frozen clasp. She wanted to cry out, but she knew those two men would never return. Slowly she turned and started walking back. She had not paid particular attention to the landscape or the signs and the hills and trees that could have been landmarks.

By the time the sun was low in the sky, her legs were trembling. She sat down on the ground, drew her knees up, and held them with her arms. She put her forehead down on her knees and began to weep.

S
abrina awoke and found she was shivering. The two villains she had placed her confidence in had taken everything, even the heavy coat that was tied behind the saddle on her horse that they had stolen. She hugged herself and shut her eyes tightly, aware that the sky was beginning to light up the east. A sharp pain came to her when a stone that she had lain down on penetrated her thin jacket and the white shirt she wore. She tried to escape into sleep again, for the moment she woke up, at least partially, her plight came to her.

I'm lost in the middle of the desert. I don't have any horse. Nobody knows where I am except the two men who put me here. I'm thirsty
,
and I'll starve out here in this desert unless someone finds me
.

Shifting around, she found that she could not hide in the pavilions of sleep anymore. With a groan she sat up and hugged herself to try to control the shivering. The light indeed was breaking, and she saw the landscape as a ghostly affair with cacti casting hideous shapes, or so it seemed to her. From far off a coyote howled, a lonesome song that somehow made her feel even worse. She sat for a moment then turned to face the east.

Suddenly an icy hand seemed to run down her back, and fright came with such a powerful force that she could only sit and stare at the Indian who stood no more than ten feet away watching her.
He's going to kill me!
The thought seemed to freeze her mind, and she stared at the savage, waiting for him to come forward and cut her throat or worse. She had heard of the cruelty of the Indians and had never given it any thought. Now, however, a black veil of fear and dread seemed to envelop her.

The silence ran on, and when the Indian did not speak, Sabrina climbed to her feet. She was sore from head to foot from the cold and the hard ground, but she did not take her eyes off of the Indian. He was a handsome enough fellow, judging from the sorry specimens she had seen hanging around Fort Smith. He was no more than medium height, and he wore a pair of white man's jeans and a green-and-white-checkered shirt. His face seemed to be carved from steel. He had a prominent nose and wide lips now compressed, but it was his eyes that held her. They were obsidian, blacker than any eyes she had ever seen, and they stared at her unwaveringly. He had a rifle in his left hand, and ten feet farther off was a horse with a red blanket tied to a mesquite tree. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, but the black braids of his hair hung down his back, red ribbons tied in each of them.

Finally Sabrina tried to speak and found that her throat was dry. She cleared it, coughed, licked her dry lips, and said, “Hello.”

Whatever she expected did not happen. She had no idea that the Indian would speak English, but he said, “You are lost.”

Glad that he could speak English and that he made no move to threaten her, Sabrina nodded violently. “Yes, I hired two men to help me, and they took my horse and everything I had.”

“What two men?”

“Their names were Denver. Asa and Roy Denver.”

A slight movement of the Indian's lips might have been a smile. “Bad men,” he said simply.

“I—I need to get back to Fort Smith. Could I hire you to take me?”

“My name is Gray Wolf. You were foolish to come with those two men. Everyone knows they are not good.”

“I know that now, Gray Wolf, but I'm helpless. If you'll help me get back to Fort Smith, I'll see that you're well paid.”

Gray Wolf was examining her from head to foot. He came forward, and she stiffened up for she could not read his intentions in his features. He came and stood in front of her saying, “Yes, I can take you to town.” Without another word he seized her by the arm and began to pull at her.

Sabrina's first impulse was to resist but she knew that would be useless. He was strong as an animal, she felt, and for the first time in her life she was completely at the mercy of another human being, one whom she did not know and who owed her nothing.

Gray Wolf stopped beside the horse, which had no saddle. “Get on,” he said.

There was only a woven leather bridle around the horse's neck, not even between his lips as a proper bridle would be. “I—I can't get up there.”

“Here. Put your foot here.” He locked his fingers together and stooped over, and she tentatively stepped in. He heaved her up, and she managed to throw her leg across. There was nothing to hang on to, for the bridle he used, such as it was, was tied to the tree. Gray Wolf said nothing but untied the bridle and began to walk toward the east.

Sabrina felt a great gush of relief flow through her.
He's not going to kill me!
She was not a praying woman, but at that moment she felt that if she were she would give thanks for her deliverance.
I'm not going to die
, she thought, and the thought gave her a sensation of relief such as she had never known before.

For the next four hours the Indian moved steadily forward, tirelessly so, it seemed to Sabrina. She had nothing to do with her hands, no horn to cling to, no bridle to hold, so all she could do was sit there. She recognized none of the territory that they were passing through, but finally she said in a voice that was a croak, “Do you have any water?”

“Over there.” Gray Wolf pointed over to the right and turned the direction of the horse that way. He led her two hundred yards on. He stopped, tied the horse, and said, “Water here.”

Sabrina slipped to the ground and saw a tidy rivulet of water running over rocks.

“Spring here. Always cold no matter how hot,” Gray Wolf said. “Drink.”

Awkwardly Sabrina leaned down and, cupping her hands, waited until they filled up. She drank noisily, awkwardly, and thirstily, and repeated that several times until she rose up and wiped her lips with her sleeve. “Thank you. That was good.”

Gray Wolf shrugged, reached on his back, and pulled out what seemed to be some kind of a canteen. He filled it up then leaned over and drank himself. “We go now.”

Sabrina was exhausted. She had had nothing to eat all the previous day except a small breakfast, and she was beginning to feel the pangs of hunger. “You have any food?” she asked timidly.

“Soon.” The monosyllable was all that Gray Wolf offered her, but he put her astride again and walked away.

They had traveled about thirty minutes when suddenly he lifted the rifle in one smooth motion and fired.

The sound of the shot startled Sabrina, and she looked wildly around but saw nothing.

She sat there as Gray Wolf led the way, leaned over, and picked up something. “Food.”

It was, Sabrina saw, a large rabbit.

“Get down.” She got down, Gray Wolf tied the horse, and then, picking up some small twigs, he pulled some matches from his pocket, struck one, and touched it. The fuel was dry, and he kept adding wood until there was a blaze, its crackling a cheerful sound.

Gray Wolf pulled a knife, stripped the fur off the rabbit, and skillfully cut it into two pieces. He found two sticks and impaled half on each stick. He handed her one, and without another word stuck his own half over the flame.

Almost instantly the smell of cooking meat caused Sabrina's stomach to knot. She quickly followed Gray Wolf 's example.

Five minutes later Gray Wolf pulled the rabbit out of the fire, tore off a strip, and put it in his mouth. “Good,” he grunted. “You eat.”

The meat was only half cooked, but she was ravenous.

He saw she did not know how to eat it. He took it from her and, pulling out his knife, stripped off small portions.

The food was better than anything Sabrina, who had eaten at the finest hotels in the country, had ever tasted. She ate hungrily, and then when they were finished, they both drank.

“We go now.”

“How far, Gray Wolf?”

“Another hard day's travel. We get there in the morning if we travel at night. If not, later.”

That was all the conversation Sabrina had with him for the rest of the day. The pony seemed to be tireless, as did Gray Wolf. She herself was exhausted by the time dark fell.

Seeing this, Gray Wolf pulled off and said, “We'll rest here.” He pulled the blanket off the horse and grunted, “Sleep.”

Willingly Sabrina wrapped herself in the blanket and lay down. As sleep descended on her exhausted body, she once again had an impulse that she should give thanks, but she was not a woman of God and knew that she was not a fit subject to ask God for anything.