Authors: Cassie Edwards
"Let me down, you liar, you swindler, you murderer," Alicia screamed, kicking her legs in a futile effort to be set free. "How could I ever have trusted you? You killed my brother or how else would one of your warriors have this painting? My brother would never have parted with it except by force. My brother was in the Arizona Territory to find me. This painting in Red Crow's tepee has to mean that Charlie will never find me. He was ambushed. He was murdered."
Embarrassed by Alicia's tirade, and puzzled over why Red Crow had the painting, Cloud Eagle carried Alicia farther away, to the far edge of the stronghold. When he set her to her feet, he stared down at her anger and the hate in her eyes.
"I know nothing of how this painting came to be in the possession of Red Crow," he said, reaching to wipe the smudges from her face.
She took a quick, angry step away from him and glared up at him with a look of bewildered mistrust.
"You lie so easily," Alicia whispered, her heart aching over so many things. Over realizing that Cloud Eagle could be a double-crossing liar, and that her brother was now more than likely dead.
Her beloved Charlie.
How could she accept that he was dead, or
how
he had died?
Cloud Eagle, the man with whom she had shared so many beautiful moments. He or Red Crow had surely killed her very own brother.
"How could you have such little faith in this man who has given you his heart?" Cloud Eagle said thickly. "Cloud Eagle is known for his honesty. His peaceful ways. And you can so easily condemn this chief without listening to reason?"
He took a determined step toward her and gripped her shoulders so tightly no matter how much she squirmed, she could not get free. "When I say that I knew nothing of this painting being in Red Crow's possession, then you must believe me," he said. The sudden tears flooding Alicia's eyes washed away his anger. "
Ish-kay-nay
, I
have
seen the painting before. But only to admire it. When the man who owned it refused to make trade, this Apache chief rode off and left it in his possession."
Alicia's lips parted. "Then you did see my brother?" she gasped.
"If the man who had this painting in his possession was your brother, yes, then I saw him," Cloud Eagle said. He felt her stiffen even more beneath his grip. "Your brother was alive when I last saw him."
"How can you stand there and lie so easily?" Alicia suddenly screamed. "If my brother were still alive when you left him, why then did Red Crow have the painting? He followed your commands. He would not take the painting unless ordered to. This has to mean that my brother"
The tepee having now burned to the ground, everyone's attention had turned to their chief and his screaming woman.
Turtle Crawls, one of Cloud Eagle's most trusted warriors, stepped to Cloud Eagle's side. "There is confusion over the painting?" he said to Cloud Eagle, then shifted his gaze to glare at Alicia for showing such outward distrust and disrespect for his chief.
"Much," was all that Cloud Eagle would offer.
"You wonder how it happened to be in Red Crow's lodge?" Turtle Crawls said, turning his eyes back to Cloud Eagle.
Frowning, Cloud Eagle turned to Turtle Crawls. "You know the answer?" he said. "In Red Crow's absence, yes, I will speak for him," Turtle Crawls said, nodding. "This painting was taken from Sandy Whiskers' office. I was there with Red Crow when he offered payment for the painting to the Englishman. He wanted to bring the painting to you for a surprise gift, since he knew that you had admired and had wanted it when it was in the possession of the man who had painted it."
Alicia listened with a pounding heart and could not believe one word of what was being said. She saw this as a ploy, all planned out should she ever discover that the painting was among the belongings of one of Cloud Eagle's warriors.
It had all been practiced.
A dirty, rotten scheme meant to trick her into believing that the Apache had not taken the painting from an innocent man in a terrible ambush.
It made her dizzy with anguish to believe that her brother had come to such a horrible end. He had been one of the most gentle men she had ever known. Firearms were never a part of his attire. He had loved and trusted everyone and everything. His trust had gone too far this time, it seemed.
"And Sandy Whiskers parted with it after Red Crow made payment?" Cloud Eagle said, feeling warm thoughts about his friend, Red Crow.
"No, he would not accept any payment," Turtle Crawls said.
This confused the issue even more.
This convinced Alicia more than ever that there were too many lies here that sounded far-fetched and practiced.
To her it made no sense whatsoever that Sandy Whiskers would part freely with a painting that he could sell to the highest bidder.
No, she was convinced that Cloud Eagle had known all along that Red Crow had the painting. It had been kept hidden in Red Crow's lodge purposely, for one look at the painting would be proof enough that she was the artist's subject and that she would know that the painting had come into the possession of the Apache in the wrong way.
This was being kept from her purposely so that she would be pulled into more deceit by Cloud Eagle. He would marry her while all along knowing that he had killed her very own brother!
"Then how is it that Red Crow had the painting if the Englishman would not willingly part with it?" Cloud Eagle asked.
"Knowing your want of this painting, Red Crow left the Englishman's outpost after he had made a good trade for the woman's mail sack, then went back later and stole the painting when Sandy Whiskers was gone," Turtle Crawls said matter-of-factly. "Red Crow was going to present the painting to you later as a special gift."
"He is a trusted friend," Cloud Eagle said, slowly nodding. Then he placed a hand on Turtle Crawls' shoulder. "Did Red Crow question Sandy Whiskers as to how he had acquired the painting?"
"He asked. Sandy Whiskers bragged about having taken it from a white man," Turtle Crawls said softly. "But he did not say whether or not he had left the man dead or alive."
Alicia took several shaky steps away from Cloud Eagle. Tears streamed down her face, making paths through the smoke smudges. "I've heard enough," she cried. "Enough lies. Enough deceit. Enough talk of my brother! You know as well as I that everything you are saying is a lie. You know as well as I that my brother is dead! How could I have ever put my trust in you, a dreaded Apache?"
Then she hissed out as she glared at Cloud Eagle, "You lowdown, thieving, damn sonofabitch."
Gasps reverberated around Alicia. Her insides shook with alarm as she turned and stared at the people who were horrified by what she had said and by her behaviorbut mainly by her accusations.
She felt suddenly threatened.
The painting dropped from Alicia's hands when Cloud Eagle came to her and grabbed her up into his arms and carried her away from the stunned Apache people.
Infuriated, she pummeled his chest with her fists. "Let me down!" she screamed. "I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you. You damn Injun. You murdering Apache, let me down, or do you plan to murder me too now that you've been caught with your pants down?"
Her words pierced Cloud Eagle's heart as though arrows were being shot into it. Her insults sank deeply into his soul.
But he knew that part of her mindless attitude was the result of believing that her brother might have been killed by ambushers. The very fact that the painting had been in Sandy Whiskers' possession was perhaps all the proof one needed to know the fate of its owner.
Alicia continued fighting Cloud Eagle, then grew quiet when he took her to the corral and slammed her onto the back of his frisky roan and swung himself into the saddle behind her. She had no chance to get away. His arm was there too quickly around her waist. He held her as though she were in a vise, not budging to her continued demands and insults. He sent his horse into a gallop through the gate as one of his young braves opened it for him.
''Where are you taking me?" Alicia cried, her eyes wild. "Please just let me go. I promise not to bring the army back to arrest you for having killed my brother. But please tell me where his body is. He needs a decent Christian burial."
Cloud Eagle still did not respond. He knew that anything he might say to her now was wasted. It was up to someone else to prove his innocence.
His eyes were filled with a determined anger. His jaw was clenched tightly as he sent his roan into a hard gallop across the land, intent on proving his innocence. There was only one way, and he was going to take it, even if it proved Red Crow's guilt for having stolen the property that Sandy Whiskers had claimed as his.
It was time, anyhow, to break ties with the murdering English scoundrel. It was no longer safe to link his name with someone who so blatantly killed and stole.
Cloud Eagle could no longer turn his eyes the other way.
Sandy Whiskers was out of control.
Fearing the worst for her brother, that he was indeed dead, tears trembled down Alicia's cheeks. She no longer had the strength to strike back at Cloud Eagle. Her emotions had totally drained her.
The sun cast its flames of color onto the small outpost that sweltered in the middle of a barren strip of land. Only a few trees whispered and trembled in the dry breeze around the high white wall that hid the activities of the outpost behind it.
In sweat-stained buckskins, Sandy Whiskers sat at his desk, which faced a window over which the shade was drawn, except for a small slit left open at the bottom. That was enough to let Sandy Whiskers see the courtyard and front gate of his outpost.
He chewed aimlessly on his cigar. He rolled it around and around between his thick lips as he watched Cloud Eagle enter the wide gate on horseback.
He leaned closer to the window and squinted out. Cloud Eagle was not alone. A woman was on the horse with him. She looked familiar. Grunting beneath his breath, he pushed his bulbous body out of the chair and went to the window. Slowly he lifted the shade to get a better look at the woman.
"Well, I'll be damned," he whispered to himself. "It
is
Alicia. Alicia Cline from the stage station." He idly scratched his brow. What the hell was she doing with an Apache? And why did he sense that she was not here under her own volition?
His eyes squinted beneath a shadowing of thick, sandy-colored eyebrows as he shifted his gaze to the guards, who stood just inside the gate. They had allowed Cloud Eagle's entrance. They knew the Apache chief well and had been instructed that no questions should be asked when he arrived at the outpost. Sandy Whiskers and the Apache had sealed a bargain that worked in both their favors. Only recently had the Englishman seen cause for one or the other to make a final break in their relationship.
Red Crow. He was the cause.
"As for Red Crow," he said to himself, snickering, "that sonofabitch will never steal from anyone else again, especially
me
."
Sandy Whiskers lowered the shade again. Wheezing from the effort it took to move, he went back to his chair and eased himself into it.
The chair squeaked and swayed beneath the weight of the short, fat Englishman. The leather of the chair had split long ago, and the stuffing was hanging down on both sides.
The room was hazy with cigar smoke. A lone kerosene lamp spread its golden light through the smoke. Sliding a thick hand across the top of his desk, Sandy Whiskers shuffled papers aside. His breath came in heaves as he reached for a bottle of tequila.
He placed his half-smoked cigar in an ashtray and placed a glass beside the bottle. Half watching the door and half watching what he was doing, he slopped tequila half into the glass and half onto his desk. Shoving the bottle aside, he lifted the glass to his lips and downed the tequila in a few quick gulps.
Then he flattened his hands on the top of the desk and smiled crookedly as one of the bearded men under his command brought Alicia and Cloud Eagle into his office.
Sandy Whiskers dismissed the bearded man with a nod, then gazed from Cloud Eagle to Alicia, then back at Cloud Eagle.
"My outpost has been frequented lately by more Apache than usual," Sandy Whiskers said and lifted his fingers to his thick, sandy-colored mustache and toyed with it. He twisted the ends around his finger, his pale gray eyes squinting at his visitors. "But never before have you brought a lady. What's the occasion today, Cloud Eagle?"
Cloud Eagle squared his shoulders. He fought to keep his composure, but it was hard. The Englishman had brought disharmony into his life when things had just become perfect between Cloud Eagle and his
Ish-kay-nay
.
Now it was as though Cloud Eagle and Alicia were strangers. And it was all because of this stocky Englishman who sat smugly in his chair, reeking of tequila, cigars, and dried perspiration.
"I have come today with this woman so that the truth can be told about the painting that Red Crow saw in your possession," Cloud Eagle said, his voice tight. "He not only saw this painting, he bargained with you for it."
Sandy Whiskers offered no response.
Silence dragged on, demanding a reply.
"White man, answer me or regret your silence," Cloud Eagle warned, his teeth clenched.
"I know of no painting," Sandy Whiskers said. Lies always came easily for him.
Sandy Whiskers grabbed the bottle and poured himself another glass of tequila. He drank it in one fast swallow, then shoved the glass away.
"You lie," Cloud Eagle said, placing his palms flat on the Englishman's desk to enable him to lean into Sandy Whiskers' face. "You had the painting. Red Crow bargained for it. There was a witness. Turtle Crawls. He also saw the painting in your possession."
Sandy Whiskers lit his cigar again and worked it over into the corner of his mouth. "Why such interest in a damn painting?" he said, knowing the answer.
He stared up at Alicia, recalling that the painting showed her exact likeness. When he had seen it with the white man, he had seen the resemblance. He knew then that he had to have it.