OUT OF THE DARKNESS (THE PRESCOTT SERIES) (5 page)

“
Tyler, scoot forward as far as you can, and take Emma with you. Janey, crawl up beside your brother.”

He glanced at
Margaret as she went to the back of the wagon, spread out a blanket, and fluffed a pillow to make a pallet. The children, awakened from their nap were getting restless. Margaret had placed Emma in Tyler’s lap.

“Jason, are
you going to bring the girl or not? Someone has to pick her up and it won’t be me. As dirty as she is I imagine I’ll have to burn everything that touches her. I’ll never be able to wash out the smell.”

His sister
was anything but tactful. He was glad the girl was unconscious and couldn’t hear her. He scooped up the mud encrusted, twig infested, foul smelling bundle, which he realized weigh no more than a child. Even as dirty as she was, all he could think about were those beautiful green eyes and the swell of desire that swirled inside him.

Tyler
’s eyes widened in alarm. “Mama, what’s that smell?”

He looked from Margaret to the lump of humanity Jason carried
, then back to his mama with a wrinkled nose.

“Hush now,”
Margaret chastised and motioned with her hand for Tyler to move closer to the front of the wagon. “I'm glad the girls are too young to ask questions. Leave it to Tyler to be outspoken. He’s curious about everything.”

“He’
s so much like you, it’s a wonder John can tolerate the pair of you,” Jason laughed and laid the girl on the makeshift pallet.

Margaret dampened
a dainty handkerchief and placed it on the girl’s lips, which were painfully dry. Her actions contradicted her insensitive words. Sometimes she used a harsh and blunt manner to hide her soft heart.

She
frowned at him then tried to sooth Tyler. “It will only be until we get to the ranch. You can test your new skill of how long you can hold your breath until we get there,” she teased.

“John’
s been teaching him to swim underwater. It’s become a contest between them to see who can stay underwater the longest. Of course, John lets Tyler win,” she whispered to Jason. “John spoils him rotten.”

“
John spoils all of you rotten.”

“Yes
he does.” Her eyes took on that soft, dreamy expression every time she spoke of her husband. “I couldn’t have found a better man.”

“Found? You chased the poor man to ground with all your schemes. It was either marry you, or have me gunning for him.”

Margaret just grinned at him, and tucked the blankets around the girl to soften the ride. Jason helped her onto the wagon seat. Placing his rifle on the floorboard, he adjusted the strips of leather in his hands, and with a snap of the lines across the horses’ rumps, and a click of his tongue, they were moving again.

He
continued to rake the area with his sharp gaze. There was still the possibility someone was following the girl. He didn’t want his sister and the children caught in the middle of any unsuspected danger.

“What do you think she was doing way out here all alone? Goodness, the way she smells I doubt there was reason to fear someone might attack her. Although, an animal might not be so discriminating,” Margaret declared. “I have never smelled anyone quite that
rank before.”

“Margaret, if you weren’t my sister I would say you had no tact at all. Since it will be left to you to clean her up I hope you will be less blunt when she’s awake.”
He scolded her then shook his head. “We’ll have to wait until she wakes up to find out what she was doing here, and who she is.”

“When I said she smelled bad
, Mama, you told me to ‘Hush’. That means you have to hush, too, uh Uncle Jason,” Tyler reasoned.

Tyler
considered a rule a rule and figured that if he had to follow them, everyone else should, too. He lifted his chin, daring Jason to disagree with his assessment of proper behavior.

Jason smiled at him, “Right you are young man. Did you hea
r that Margaret?” Jason laughed. “Trapped by your own words.”

“Just for that bit of mischief, you two can carry all the buckets of water I’ll need to wash our newest guest with until she is spotless and odorless,” Margaret teased. She reached
back and ruffled Tyler’s hair.

“Ah, shucks.”

Margaret laughed and held her arms out to Emma, who had started to squirm on Tyler’s lap. The baby was more than happy to climb into them. His gaze traveled over Emma’s downy head and plump little cheeks. After this week, he would relinquish his child’s care to his sister.

A hard lump formed in his throat.
He would do anything to keep her with him. The answer to his problem could be lying in the back of the wagon.

Consciousness clawed its way loose from the darkness that held her captive. Agony made Jade feel as if every bone in her body had been battered against a stone wall. How could someone be this miserable and still live? That’s it. The forest had claimed her, and in her weakened condition, she failed to realize she’d died. No. This misery was of the fleshly sort. Parched throat, thirsty, an ache in the pit of her stomach from the lack of food, and everything moved. Trees overhead swayed back and forth, making her dizzy. Fall leaves, tinted with red, gold, green, and brown blurred before her eyes. The ground she lay on felt soft, not hard, and it rumbled and moved.

The distinct sound of voices
filtered through her foggy mind. Faint, but she heard the sound as surely as she felt the soft breeze brushing her cheek. Icy fear froze any movement she might attempt. A thread of hysteria wound itself around her emotions. Had she turned full circle and wandered back into the village. Could the deep male voice be Three Feathers? The woman’s Bird Song’s? No. She forced her confused thoughts into some semblance of order. Bird Song had died and Three Feathers had allowed her to escape. She tried hard to comprehend what she heard. Something clicked in her mind. She understood them. Her head throbbed painfully, she could barely think straight.

Was she hallucinating?
No, she understood them. Her heart leaped with joy. They spoke English. Tears formed in her eyes. Squeezing her lids tight, she allowed the warm liquid to run down her face. She didn’t care if the woman said she was dirty, and foul smelling. She understood them. That’s all that mattered. The knowledge that she was among her own people brought peace to her heart and contentment to her weary soul. Eyes closed, she felt safe enough to sleep. She hadn’t had a peaceful nights rest since her journey began.

She
drifted back and forth into consciousness. The man’s voice gave her pleasure, a constant timbre, neither harsh, nor abrasive, like water rippling over smooth stone. The sound gave her a sense of belonging. She wanted to reach out and claim it as a safeguard against the pain in her body, and her spirit.

Accepting the grueling pain as a
reminder of the miracle of being found. Jade lay unmoving, content to listen, knowing soon pain and discomfort would pull her back into the black realm of forgetful darkness. A place where nothing provoked her to remember what her mind demanded she forget.

~~~

“Are we there yet, Uncle Jason? Janey doesn’t want to play anymore, and she looks like she’s going to cry. I don’t like it when she cries. She’s loud,” Tyler complained.

“Look up ahead. Y
ou can see the house from here. I’m sure Cookie will have a hot meal ready for us. Are you hungry?” Jason said to distract the children. They had been content, but he couldn’t expect such good behavior to continue for much longer.

His
house, with its porch wrapped around three sides, sat on a small rise. The shake shingles, he had split himself, replaced the once thatched roof. Wood shingles prevented the rain from seeping into the house. To the west lay the cook shack and bunkhouse. South of that stood the newly erected barn with a large corral. Pride swelled in his chest.

“Janey, look there’s
Uncle Jason’s house. Can you see it?” Tyler encouraged his little sister. Jason turned just in time to see Janey’s lower lip start to pucker.

“Oh no!
She’s going to start, Uncle Jason,” Tyler wailed.

Jason put both lines in his left hand
, leaving one hand free to pull Janey to the front to sit between him and Margaret. It helped the problem with the lower lip, but her eyes still glistened with unshed tears. From Margaret’s lap, Emma’s chubby hand reached out to pull the bonnet strings under Janey’s small chin. Janey giggled and scooted closer to Jason.

Tyler stood
up behind them. With his small hand braced on Jason’s shoulder, he laughed at Emma and Janey’s antics over the bonnet string. He chattered in Jason’s ear about their newfound prize: the ‘smelly o’ Indian’.

The horses, sensing home was near
, with a bucket of oats waiting in their favorite stall, quickened their pace, and made short work of the rest of the journey. Jason pulled the horses to a halt in front of the ranch house. A bowlegged, short, balding man came from the cook shack. He stopped to hitch up his pants that kept falling down around his nonexistent hips before he sauntered up to the horses.

Jason jumped to the ground
, then helped Margaret and the children down. Margaret went directly to the back of the wagon. The minute Tyler’s feet hit solid ground he headed straight for the old ranch hand.

“Come see what we got
, Cookie. We got us a smelly o’ Indian,” Tyler exclaimed and tugged on Cookies pant leg.

Cookie’s weathered face creased into a smile as he saw Margaret’s eyes roll heavenward. “Let’s see what
ya got there partner. Then we’ll decide if’n it’s a smelly o’ Indian.”

He and Tyler r
eached the end of the wagon at the same time Jason reached in to pick up the still unconscious girl.

“I don’t know
if’n it’s an Indian, but Tyler’s right. It sure don’t smell good. What’cha got Jason?” Cookie asked.

“We found her unconscious out by
the trail. I think the buckskin clothing she’s wearing is the cause of most of the odor. But, Margaret’s going to take care of it just as soon as we bring her some hot water. Aren’t you, Sis?” Jason gave her a wide grin and winked at Tyler.

Cookie hurried forward
to hold the door open for Jason. He carried the dirty bundle to the bedroom beside the kitchen and placed her on the oilcloth Margaret had scurried to put on the bed before he could lay the girl down. Jason brought several buckets of heated water into the room and leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

Hands planted firmly on her hips, Margaret turned to stare at him.
“Jason, you need to leave, I’m going to undress her.”

“I’ll stay. In your condition you might need help in lifting her.”

She gave him a narrowed-eyed stare.

He held his hands up, palms out, as
if to ward off any other objections. “I promise I won’t look.”

“Fine
.” She held the knife she’d taken from the kitchen in the air and shook it at him. “Just don’t tell her you were present when I stripped the clothing off her.”

Jason averted his eyes as
Margaret started the grim task of cutting away the buckskins. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her place the dress and leggings outside the door. She ordered Cookie to burn them. Thankfully, once she removed the buckskins from the room, the odor diminished.

Sounds of
Margaret washing the naked girl sent lustful images of soft skin and lush curves dancing through his mind. She’d scrub with lye soap and water until she left no trace of dirt or smell. He couldn’t wait to see what the ragged bundle looked like cleaned up.

“
Finished yet?”

“Yes. She never woke up once. Even with all the scrubbing I had to do.”

When he glanced around, she’d rolled the girl off the oilcloth and under the blankets.

Margaret
dried her hands on a towel and stared down at her patient. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about her thick hair. Cut it off, I guess,” Margaret reasoned.

“No! Don’t cut her hair.
I’ll help you. We could hang her head over the side of the bed and wash her hair in a bucket of water. We could rinse it the same way,” Jason offered.

“Yes
, that might work,” Margaret said and gave him a curious glance.

He
cradled the girl’s head in his hands while Margaret washed the long matted tresses. It was on the second washing that they discovered the girl’s hair was not dark, but a deep burnished red. The color rivaled the brightest sunset.

“Red, I thought her hair
would be black or dark brown at least,” he said, amazed at what lay beneath all the grease and dirt. Short tendrils curled around her small face as her hair began to dry.

“I’ve never seen hair this color before.” For some reason this girl affected him.
After nearly a year of being a widower, he felt life stirring inside him.

He reached up and
brushed soap away from her face just as her eyes opened. They held his for a long moment then slowly drifted closed, covered by thick dark lashes.