Embrace the Wild Land (24 page)

Zeke was too weary to argue. “Thanks,” he muttered. He stumbled back down the steps and pulled on his horse, the white house seeming six miles away. He finally reached its gate and walked through, pulling his horse with him up to the steps. He tied the horse and struggled up the steps, feeling more and more dizzy. He leaned against the door frame and pounded on the heavy door. He could hear footsteps, and finally the door opened. A lovely woman with light hair and blue eyes greeted him, and for a moment they both stared in utter shock.

“Zeke!” she exclaimed. “It is you, isn’t it?”

A grin made its way through his pain. The spirits truly were with him. “Bonnie,” he whispered.

Out of sheer joy at seeing someone he knew, someone who would most definitely help him, someone he could call friend, he grabbed her close and clung to her.

“Bonnie Lewis!” he muttered. “Thank God!”

She breathed deeply of his earthy, manly scent. How many years had it been? Too many. Far too many.
Zeke! She let him hold her. For this one brief moment in her life she could share his arms again.

Winston Garvey studied the ugly scars on Buel’s face and neck, put there by Wolf’s Blood’s pet wolf the day Garvey’s men made trouble for Zeke Monroe and his family. He moved his eyes to Handy, whose hideous, deformed face had never healed right after Zeke Monroe had smashed a rifle butt into it.

“I have a mission for you two,” he told the men. “It’s highly secret. I want no foul-ups, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Buel replied, speaking for Handy, who had difficulty moving his jaw.

“I’ll pay you well—very well.”

Both men’s eyes lit up eagerly.

“It’s May. Most of the snow has thawed from the plains and you should be able to travel. I’ll give you a map my spies have drawn up for me. I want you to take at least ten more men along—good men who can keep their mouths shut and who don’t ask questions as long as the pay is good. Can you find them?”

“We can find them,” Buel replied, nodding. “Where are we going?”

Garvey leaned back in his chair. “To southeast Colorado, around Bent’s Fort. There’s a ranch down there in Indian territory, near the Arkansas River. Belongs to a man by the name of Zeke Monroe.”

Buel’s eyes lit up. “You mean the big guy that headed that bunch we got into that fight with last summer?”

Garvey nodded. “Same one. I want none of the children hurt or taken. There is a ranch hand there. If he’s killed it makes no difference. I am told the Indian himself is gone—went back East for some reason. So the woman is there alone. I’d never get any information from Monroe, so I’ll go to the weak one—the woman. I
want the woman. She has some information I need. What it is makes no difference to you. It’s none of your business. Just bring her to me.”

Buel grinned. “I remember her. She’s the white woman. And she’s damned pretty.”

Garvey scowled. “I don’t want her harmed or raped. I’ll decide what to do with her once you bring her to me—and, by the way, once your extra men help you get her away from there, pay them off and send them on their way. Only the two of you are to know that you brought her to my place, understand? No one must be aware of where she has been taken.”

“You’ve got it,” Buel told the fat senator.

“Very good,” Garvey answered. “Take your time. Don’t move too quickly. Ask around first. Sometimes the Cheyenne camp out around there. Monroe has relatives among the tribe and they watch out for the woman. Make sure you pick a day when there are no extra men there. Sometimes they go off to hunt. And watch out for the oldest kid. He’s a mean one.”

“We’re already aware of that,” Buel replied. “We’ll watch out for him. I just hope the father still ain’t home when we get there. Him I don’t want to mess with again.”

Garvey just grinned. “Buel, by the time I’m through, that man will be crawling to me on his knees. That bastard will be begging to get his woman back. But there is only one way he will get her. But then perhaps I’ll find out what I need to know from her own lips.”

Buel smiled. “She’s got pretty lips, Senator.”

Garvey just chuckled. “Let’s get down to business and study the map,” he answered, opening a desk drawer.

Nineteen

Zeke’s eyes were heavy with sorrow as he watched Bonnie Lewis and her father work diligently on Danny. His handsome, robust, younger half-brother was shockingly thin and pale. His stomach, exposed for surgery and stitches, was sunken; the man’s bright blue eyes were closed and hollow-looking.

“He has an older injury that wasn’t taken care of properly,” Doctor Beaker muttered as Bonnie sponged away more blood.

“He was wounded at Shiloh,” Zeke spoke up in a strained voice. “That’s all I know.”

“Well, that and this new wound have taken their toll. It’s truly amazing that this man is even alive.”

Zeke smiled sadly. “He’s just stubborn like me,” he replied.

Bonnie glanced up at him, the trauma of the moment only soothed by the fact that Zeke Monroe had found his way to her doorstep. What ravaged her heart most of all was that he had not changed one bit, except that now he looked so very tired and lonely. There was much to talk about, but it would not be easy talking to him. His reappearance in her life brought shocks of terrible need to her long-sleeping body, needs Zeke Monroe
always awakened her to. How strange and cruel was the hand of fate that brought this man to her heroic rescue years ago from the hands of vicious outlaws; for although he had saved her from a fate worse than death, he had also stirred within her womanly instincts she had not known existed in her soul. She had ignored them, for Zeke Monroe was totally in love with and married to another woman; and Bonnie, being a proper preacher’s daughter, buried her sinful love for a man she could not have and married a preacher. Now she must struggle to hide her feelings again, but Zeke Monroe knew that she loved him.

“You look tired, Zeke, and we’ll have a look at your back as soon as we’re finished here.”

“I’m all right,” he answered. “It’s Danny I’m worried about. I’m just glad I found you. I’d have had to work on him myself if I hadn’t found help when I did. You can do a better job. You have all the right supplies.”

They looked at each other for a moment, then she turned back to her work, feeling warm and excited. “With all of your experience you probably could have done just about as good a job as we’re doing,” she answered while her father began taking stitches. “I remember how you told me you had to cut infection out of Abbie when she was wounded with an arrow, and even had to burn some of it out. I’m sure you could have helped Danny.”

The mention of Abbie’s name brought on the old ache. He turned away, walking out into the cool hallway of the huge home that Bonnie and her father had occupied and set up as a hospital. The owners had fled to parts unknown, leaving a good share of their belongings behind, including several beds, all of which were full. A less injured man would have to be moved to make room for Danny. Zeke would be content to sleep
on the floor, for he had slept on the hard ground most of his life and hated soft beds. Again, he thought of Abbie, who had given up soft beds for a bed of robes …a bed they shared very happily. To lie beside her this night was the most wonderful thing he could imagine. How many months had it been? Seven? Eight? God, how he missed her! He pulled out a pipe and filled it, walking to a parlor and sitting down wearily on a rose-colored love seat. He lit his pipe and puffed it, closing his eyes for a moment, fighting a much-needed sleep. When he opened them, he stared in surprise and pleasure.

Before him stood a boy of perhaps eight or nine, a very handsome boy with olive-colored skin, sandy hair and blue eyes. He wore short pants … and a leg brace.

“Joshua?” Zeke asked.

The boy smiled brightly, and Zeke’s heart swelled with exceeding relief. They had most certainly done the right thing by allowing Bonnie and Rodney Lewis to adopt this little half-breed. He was obviously happy and looked healthy and robust, in spite of the brace; and as the boy walked toward Zeke, he showed a limp, but not a bad one. At least he was walking. The baby Zeke and Abbie had handed over to Bonnie Lewis all those years ago had been so badly twisted and crippled, they found it hard to believe anything could be done for him. Yet here he stood. And what was most difficult to believe was that this charming boy before him could have been sired by Winston Garvey.

“How do you know my name?” the boy asked.

Zeke frowned. He had no idea how much this boy knew about his roots. He must be careful.

“Your mother told me in the operating room,” Zeke replied. “I brought in my half-brother who’s been badly wounded. She said if I came out here and saw a young boy, it would be her son, Joshua.”

“Oh,” the boy answered, stepping cautiously closer, his smile fading. He suddenly took on an apprehensive look. “Are you … an Indian?” he asked. “You look like the Indians I know out West in the Dakotas and Wyoming.”

Zeke nodded. “I’m only part Indian, though. Half Cheyenne. My name is Zeke Monroe. Ever heard it?”

The boy puckered his lips in thought. “Nope,” he finally answered. “Do you know my mother?”

Zeke puffed his pipe. Apparently this boy knew nothing about his past. Perhaps he didn’t even know yet that he was himself half Indian, for he had very little of those features, except for the olive skin and rather high cheekbones.

“I, uh, met her once, down in Santa Fe, when she lived there with your grandfather before she went north to marry your father.” He would not say anything about the outlaws. Perhaps that was another thing Bonnie had never told him, and perhaps it was something she would never want him to know.

“I haven’t seen any Indians since we came here,” Joshua was saying.

“That’s because all the eastern Indians have been chased west,” Zeke replied. “There used to be lots of Indians around here, son—Creeks, Choctaws, Cherokees, Iroquois, Delaware, Catawba.”

The boy eased himself into a chair near Zeke. “What happened to them?”

Zeke puffed his pipe again. “Well, the whites came along and wanted their land. And since there were a lot more whites than Indians, and since a lot of the Indians died from the white man’s diseases, the whites were able to just kick out the Indians and send them west. Trouble is, the same thing is happening out west now. The Indians are getting pushed into smaller and smaller territory.”

The boy thought for a moment, toying with a button on the arm of the chair he sat in. “That’s kind of mean. I like Indians—most of them, anyway. Some are kind of mean back, but I think it’s because the whites are mean to them.”

Zeke grinned. “You’re a clever little boy.”

“I listen to my mom and dad talk, and my grandfather,” he answered very seriously. “They talk about the Indians. They help them sometimes. Grandfather helps them when they’re hurt or sick, and I’ve heard my mother say that most white doctors won’t help Indians like that.” He sighed, then sat up straighter, feeling more important. “I think I’ll help Indians someday, too. I don’t know how yet, but I have Indian friends, and I get mad when my white friends won’t play with them. They make fun of them and spit at them.”

Zeke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, Joshua, I hope you can help them in some way someday. Something tells me you’ll do just that. You seem like a very nice and very smart young man.”

The boy smiled. “I’m going to college someday. Have you ever been to college?”

Zeke chuckled. “I’m afraid not, young man. Far from it. My education has been living in the open, with animals for friends and all of nature to teach me about God.”

The boy suddenly jumped up, his young mind flitting from one subject to another. “I’ve had six operations!” he announced proudly. “I walk real good now, see?” He paraded once around the room and Zeke smiled and nodded.

“Very fine. You must be a very brave boy.”

He shrugged. “I just want to walk, that’s all. Mom tells me when I was born I was all twisted. It’s called clubfoot. But I’m a lot better now, and I don’t have very much pain.”

Zeke nodded obligingly. If only Yellow Moon could see this fine son she had birthed! And if only Abbie could see him. How happy and contented she would feel knowing Joshua had turned out so handsome and brave and was so happy.

Suddenly Bonnie was at the doorway, and Zeke rose. Her face paled when she saw that Joshua was in the same room with the man who knew everything about his past. Zeke gave her a reassuring look. “I’ve just been getting acquainted with your son, here, Mrs. Lewis,” he told her. “He’s a fine boy.” Their eyes held again. “A very fine boy.”

“We’re … very proud of him,” she replied.

Zeke flashed the handsome grin she had remembered all these years, and what she felt in her chest was sheer pain. She turned her eyes to Joshua. “You get to bed, young man,” she told him. “It’s very late, and Mister Monroe is wounded besides. We have to take care of his wounds and let him get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy answered. He put his hand out to Zeke. “Nice to meet you, sir,” the boy told him. Zeke took his hand gently, squeezing the tiny hand in his own big palm.

“I’m very happy to meet you, too, Joshua,” Zeke replied.

Joshua felt a strange tingle at the touch of the tall Indian’s hand, as though there were something familiar about him. But he was too young to question or worry about such feelings.

“Goodnight, sir,” he told Zeke. He turned and limped over to his mother, who bent over and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll come and check on you soon. Can you handle the brace by yourself?” she asked him.

“You know I can, Mother,” the boy said almost chidingly. He walked off and Bonnie looked at Zeke
with a glowing pride.

“You’ve done a marvelous job with him,” he told her. “I never really doubted Abbie and I did the right thing bringing him to you, Bonnie. I can’t express how relieved and happy I am at seeing him—so healthy and happy.”

She studied the handsome face. Why was her God so cruel as to bring this man of men back into her life? “He’s my whole world,” she answered. “I apparently am not going to have any children of my own.”

She suddenly blushed and looked away. Zeke knew Rodney Lewis, and he strongly suspected what kind of husband the man was. He contemplated the fact that if she were his own wife, she’d have plenty of children by now. She was a fine woman, and it angered him that she was wasted on Rodney Lewis. But that was not his business now, nor was there anything he could do about it. Bonnie Lewis was nothing more to him than a gentle, lovely woman he had helped and befriended, and who now raised his crippled nephew. She had never been anything more than that to him, although he knew she wished he could have been. He had never had any feelings of desire for her in the way that he desired Abbie.

“Some things just aren’t meant to be, I guess,” he replied, trying to console her. She remained turned away, and he knew she was struggling with her emotions. He scrambled desperately to change the subject. “Well, how about telling me what the hell you’re doing here in Virginia,” he spoke up. “I figured you were still out in Wyoming.”

She turned to meet his eyes again. “I could ask you the same thing,” she answered.

Zeke sat back down. “Well, Danny’s wife, Emily, she came around last summer and told me Danny had been wounded and taken prisoner, begged me to come
East and see if maybe I could find him.” He nodded toward the room she had just come from. “As you can see, I found him. How’s he doing?”

“It’s hard to say yet. We can’t guarantee anything, Zeke. We’ll just have to wait a few days.”

He sighed and nodded, then relit his pipe.

“How long have you been gone?” she asked him.

He stared at the design in the Oriental rug on the floor. “Too long,” he said wistfully. “I just pray to God Abbie and the kids are all right. We have seven children now—four girls and three boys.”

“Seven!” she exclaimed. She quickly smiled, trying to hide her burning envy of Abigail Monroe, who had lain beneath this man and taken his seed, turning it into seven little Monroes. What a lucky woman she was! “My goodness, Abbie must be busy.”

Zeke grinned. “She has a way of handling everything like clockwork. A very organized woman, and a woman with enough love to give everybody an equal share.” He puffed his pipe again. “You still haven’t answered my question—about why you’re here.”

“Oh, I guess I haven’t,” she answered, coming to sit down beside him. She was rigid and tense. “Joshua … needed another operation. And Father, he felt that with this terrible war, there would be a lot of men here in the East who would need his services. He wanted to come and do what he could until the war is over. And because Joshua needed to come again, I came along with Father. Rodney and I …” She looked away again. “We … agreed … that it was best.”

Zeke frowned. “Rodney didn’t come with you?”

“Oh, no!” she replied too quickly, putting on a defensive smile. “He has a circuit he travels now. He felt he should stay out in Wyoming and continue his practice there. There are so many settlers now, scattered here and there, who have no church to attend. So he
goes to them.”

She felt hot and flustered under his all-knowing look. Somehow this perceptive man knew how cold and lonely was her marriage. And he knew she wished her husband had wanted to come along, or had asked her to stay. She twisted her skirt in her fingers. “We … we should take care of that wound on your back, Zeke. And then you must get some rest. You’ll be of no use to Danny if you get sick. There is a lot of disease everywhere. You rest, and then we’ll talk more.” She met his eyes again, putting on the unaffected smile. “I want to know all about what’s happening with your family, Zeke—about the children, what they’re like. And how is Abbie?”

He smiled softly. “Abbie’s fine. At least she was when I left. I hope Danny heals fast. I can’t stay away much longer.” He reached out and took her hand. “It sure is good to see you, Bonnie. It renews my spirit to see someone I know. I’ve seen so much … hell. I’ve been all over the place for about eight months now, visited Confederate camps and all. I’ve never seen anything to match this war when it comes to filth and starvation and horrible wounds—makeshift hospitals with arms and legs stacked up outside the door. It’s the damnedest, bloodiest thing I’ve ever seen.”