Savage Arrow (6 page)

Suddenly the dancing and music changed.

One of the musicians stood up and began shouting while another sawed away at his stringed board as men began swinging the women around on the shining wood floor.

This sort of dancing, and the loud shouting, looked and sounded very rude to him.

Then a young man and woman faced each other and danced in the middle of the floor as others watched and clapped their hands. Soon those people left and others took their place in the middle of the floor and began doing the same strange thing.

Voices close by outside in the dark came to Thunder Horse, and his heart skipped a beat.

He stepped quickly away from the doors and the candlelight that shone through them. He placed his back against the wall of the house once again, hoping that he was hidden well enough, for there were men outside. They were not far away, standing and smoking what Thunder Horse knew were white men’s cigars.

He could tell that the men hadn’t seen him yet.

He hunkered low and moved stealthily away from the veranda, blending in with the darkness as he ran to safety in the close-by trees. He hurried onward to where he had left his sorrel picketed.

But before mounting, he glanced again toward the bright candlelight spilling from the windows and doors and listened again to the stringed boards making their noises while people laughed and danced.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Jessie. He had not gotten any answers tonight as to why she was living with Reginald Vineyard.

Was she planning to marry him?

Or was she married to him already?

Surely it was one or the other!

One thing was certain. The woman had suddenly complicated his plans, for he truly didn’t want harm to come to her. He feared it might if she stayed with the evil man.

Thunder Horse could tell that she was a sweet, soft-spoken person . . . and obviously uneasy with the tiny weasel of a man.

But, again . . . why? Why would she come to Tombstone if she disliked him so much?

Thunder Horse swung himself into his saddle and rode away into the night, away from the woman who intrigued him so. But putting distance between himself and Jessie did not erase her from his mind, or his heart.

Ho
, there was something about her that would not allow him to forget her. That first moment they had made eye contact, he’d known she would not be someone he could easily forget.

He had saved her life then.

Would she need to be saved again . . . saved from a rat such as Reginald Vineyard?

From the way she had looked at the man, with a contempt she had tried so hard to hide, Thunder Horse knew that she had no good feelings for the tiny white man.

So what did that mean?

Why
was
she with him?

Thunder Horse’s heart would not rest until he had the answers to those questions.

He rode onward, glad that the music and laughter were far behind him now, for the silence all around allowed him to think more clearly. The main focus in his life at this moment must be his ailing father and his duty to his people, both those here in Arizona as well as the ones already living on the reservation.

In time, he would see the latter again and embrace them. But until then, he had those who remained at his village to see to and keep safe.

And he must protect his father’s interests. White Horse deserved to be interred with the other great, noble chiefs of their Fox band.

“It will be so,
ahte
, my Father,” he said into the wind as the glow of his people’s lodge fires appeared ahead of him in the darkness.

But suddenly a woman’s voice came to him in the night, causing him to flinch in the saddle. He knew that voice.

It was the flame-haired woman! He knew that she wasn’t anywhere near him, yet he could hear her call to him inside his heart.

He brought his horse to a sudden halt and turned in the saddle, staring back in the direction he had last seen the woman called Jessie.

Although she was still at the white man’s house, she had managed to come to him in the night inside his
heart. It seemed to Thunder Horse that she was crying out to him not to forget her.

“What does this mean?” he whispered to the heavens as he sought answers from the Great Spirit high above.

Suddenly things were still again except for the soft wind whispering through the trees, and the occasional yelp of a coyote off in the distance.

A chill raced up and down Thunder Horse’s spine as he turned his steed back in the direction of his village once again . . . a chill caused by the unknown. . . .

Relieved that the party was finally over and she was secluded in her bedroom, Jessie sat in her soft lacy nightgown at a mirrored vanity while Jade stood behind her, brushing Jessie’s long auburn hair.

As Jessie looked into the mirror, she could see the reflection of the room behind her.

Although she had found Reginald vastly different from the person she had known years ago, he had remembered her fondness for pretty, delicate things. Before her arrival he had decorated her room thusly.

The four-poster bed projected a luxurious ambiance of elegance. It was a stunning, tall, hand-painted bed of black chinoiserie, its canopy draped in rose-colored French silk damask, trimmed with handmade fringes and a cream-colored silk lining.

She had loved the bed the first moment she set eyes on it. The canopy gave her a sense of sanctuary; this would be a place where she could get away from
the day’s woes and discomforts, and no one could disturb her.

Everything else about the room was pretty, too. The matching draperies at the window were of velvet and decorated with ribbons and lace.

“Jessie, I have a daughter,” Jade suddenly blurted out.

“You do?” Jessie said, now gazing at Jade’s reflection in the mirror instead of the grandeur of the bedroom. “Where is she? Is she still in China?”

“No, she isn’t in China. She is in Tombstone,” Jade murmured, pausing in the brushing of Jessie’s hair.

Instead, she nervously turned the brush in her hands, her eyes revealing her worry as she told Jessie about her daughter.

“She is . . . in . . . one of those awful cribs?” Jessie gasped when Jade had finished. She turned on the bench and faced Jade, who now sat on a chair beside her.

“
Ah hao
, yes, she is there,” Jade said, resting the brush on her lap. “Her name is Lee-Lee. She is tiny and so very afraid of what has been forced upon her. I’m helpless to do anything for her except . . . except . . . to take food to her, and that only once a week.”

“Once a week?” Jessie gasped. “What does she do on the other days?”

“She is fed, but it is her mother’s food that she craves,” Jade murmured, casting her slanted eyes downward.

Then she looked in desperation at Jessie again. “Crib women don’t live long,” she blurted out, tears shining in her eyes. “They die from disease passed on
by the men who frequent the cribs, or . . . from . . . suicide.”

“Suicide?” Jessie said, her eyes widening. “Do you think your daughter will—”

Jade interrupted her. “I have seen the hopelessness in my daughter’s eyes the last few times I have gone to her,” she said tightly. “She won’t last much longer. She can’t stand the humiliation. She can’t stand the men’s callous treatment, or being locked up all day.”

“How horrible,” Jessie murmured, truly horrified by what Jade was telling her. She placed a gentle hand on Jade’s cheek, then drew it away again. “Who is responsible for your daughter’s misfortune?”

Jade looked quickly and nervously toward the closed door, then leaned closer to Jessie. “Your cousin,” she said in a whisper.

“Reginald?” Jessie said, searching Jade’s eyes. “He—?”

“Yes, Reginald Vineyard,” Jade said tightly, her eyes filled with rage. “My daughter is a prisoner of your cousin. He owns several cribs in Tombstone. He has forced not only my daughter into prostitution, but many other unfortunate women who have no family or anyone to care for them.”

Jessie was totally stunned and sickened by what Jade had told her, not only about her daughter’s troubles, but also about Reginald being such a demonic sort of man. She slid her feet into soft slippers and went to stand at the window, gazing out into the pitchblackness of night.

“I don’t understand,” she said. She then whirled
around to face Jade again. “He . . . he . . . is loved by the people of the church. How can that be if he—?”

Again Jade interrupted her. “The decent townsfolk who go to church with him have no idea he does this,” she said flatly. “He has threatened anyone who tells. And . . . he has threatened to kill any woman who tries to escape. He has told them that he will hunt them down and kill them. I am afraid to try to flee his clutches, myself. Where could I even go? Reginald would send out word to everyone not to hire me. I would be homeless. I would die of starvation.”

Almost speechless now at what she was learning about her cousin, Jessie realized he was anything but religious. Religion was just a front for him, to keep people from discovering his illicit activities.

“Should you be telling me all of this?” Jessie asked, placing gentle hands on Jade’s thick shoulders. “If Reginald finds out—”

“I felt that I could trust you not to tell,” Jade murmured. “You won’t, will you?”

“Heavens, no!” Jessie said. “I would never tell him what you have confided in me tonight.”

“Jessie, can you find a way to help Lee-Lee?” Jade asked, her eyes pleading. “You are free to come and go as you please, aren’t you?”

“So far,” Jessie gulped out.

She stepped away from Jade and began slowly pacing the floor; the rug was thick and cushiony beneath her slippered feet.

After hearing all of this, and realizing just how uncomfortable she was with Reginald, who was a
stranger to her now, Jessie wondered about her own future. How could she stay with Reginald now that she knew what a monster he was?

Yet where would she go?

Of course, Kansas City had been her home, yet those she loved . . . her family . . . were no longer there.

But she did have friends there.

She had much to decide now, but most of all she must keep in mind the best interests of her unborn child.

“Jessie, can you help my daughter?” Jade asked again as she came up beside Jessie, causing her to stop pacing. “She is the only tiny, pretty Chinese girl there in that particular set of cribs. The other Chinese cribs are far back from the main street in a portion of Tombstone called Chink Town.”

Suddenly she grabbed Jessie desperately by the arm. “Please, oh, please say that you will help my daughter escape that terrible place,” she begged, her eyes wild with fear.

“Even if I did, where could she go?” Jessie asked. “Reginald would surely hunt her down, as well as the one who helped her escape.”

Suddenly Jessie heard screams of horror . . . of fright, out in the corridor.

Eyes wide, she looked at Jade. “What in the world . . .” she gasped.

“This is becoming a nightly ritual,” Jade said, a slow smile curving her lips.

“What?” Jessie asked, shaken when another terrible scream of horror came through the closed door. “Who . . . ?”

“Reginald,” Jade said nonchalantly.

“Reginald?” Jessie gasped out.

“For some time now Reginald has been having terrifying nightmares,” Jade said, her voice revealing a glad smugness. “Each night his screams of torment get worse than the last.”

Again his screams came through the door.

Now Jessie could even hear him running down the corridor!

“Why is this happening?” Jessie asked. Part of her wanted to go to Reginald, to comfort the boy with whom she had shared such a precious childhood. But now that she knew the sort of man he had become, the rest of her wanted to leave him to his torment, because he did seem to have brought it on himself by his evil deeds.

“Why?” Jade repeated, staring at the closed door, then turning back toward Jessie. “Because he’s done so much meanness in his lifetime,” she said tightly.

Stunned by how terrified Reginald sounded, Jessie wondered what could be the seed of such fear. Allowing herself to remember the good times they’d shared, she pulled on a robe and hurried out into the corridor.

She stopped abruptly when she found Reginald crumpled to the floor, breathing hard, his face in his hands.

Jessie stood there a moment, staring down at the pitiful sight, then knelt down beside him.

“Reggie?” she murmured, starting to reach out for him.

Reginald’s head jerked up.

The fear in his eyes changed quickly to anger when he saw Jessie kneeling there.

He scrambled to his feet, fists at his sides. “Didn’t I tell you never to call me Reggie again?” he shouted. He pointed toward her room. “And get back to your room. Mind your own business!”

Horrified by his reaction to her kindly meant gesture, Jessie stared dumbfoundedly at him for a moment. Then she hurried to her room and closed the door between herself and her cousin.

Seeing how distraught Jessie was, Jade took her into her arms. “Now you know the true ugliness of this man,” she murmured, gently embracing her. “Jessie, be careful. Be . . . very . . . careful about what you do or say around him.”

Jessie eased from Jade’s arms.

Pale, her heart thumping wildly inside her chest, she laid a hand on her belly. She was truly afraid now for her child. One blow from this man and she could lose her baby!

Tomorrow she would start her plan of escape.

She would explore the countryside on the horse Reginald had given her. He had remembered how she had always enjoyed horseback riding.

But he had told her not to go far from the ranch; that it was dangerous. She now realized he was afraid she might meet people who could eventually help her!

But the main thing she knew now was that she would have to find a way to flee, the sooner, the better.

But how?

She had no money. And now she had not only herself and her unborn child to think about, but also Jade and her daughter Lee-Lee. They were in danger as long as they were under the thumb of her cousin Reginald.