Scars of the Heart (7 page)

“What the hell? I could’ve killed you!” Kade’s harsh whisper brought a shiver from Carl’s prone body. “Why didn’t you stay put? Where’s my horse?”

The boy’s lips moved, but no sound came out. His breathing was fast and shallow. His heart pumped furiously against the cowboy’s broad chest.

Kade let the knife slip away, but he didn’t move. The pair lay frozen in time, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, fanning the other with hot waves of breath. Carl found his voice first.

“Get off me!” he spat.

Blinking rapidly, Kade rolled from the lad, still shaken by the entire experience. He wasn’t quite sure what had happened. He had never killed a boy so young, never killed a soul who didn’t deserve it. But he’d come damn close to ending Carl’s life, and it spooked the calm right out of him.

He continued to stare at the lad, unable to redirect. Carl sat up, his green gaze locked on Kade. Neither spoke as they struggled to still their breathing. Slowly, Carl placed tentative fingers to his neck. Drawing them away, he looked down, then back to Kade with renewed horror. It was then the cowboy noticed a thin crimson line forming on the lad’s pale throat.

“Damnation! Let me see.” He started toward him, but the boy backed away. “I just want to see how bad it is. I’m not going to hurt you, for Christ’s sake.” He tried again. Carl stayed still, eyes round and wary.

Kade examined the wound. “It’s not bad, just a scratch.” He sat back on his heels and took a deep breath. “If you’d done what I told you, this wouldn’t have happened.” Realizing his reprimand was gruff, even in its whispered state, he added an abrupt apology. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Kade turned and crept back to the bushes. The men had moved out of view, but he waited, wondering if there were more. A few moments later, his patience was rewarded. A third rider came out of the brush on the opposite bank. The little orphan had crawled up beside Kade and gasped when he saw the man with the rifle. Carl ducked down lower, both hands over his mouth.

The horse’s hoof beats faded, and the boy rose to peek out once more.

“That’s not—”

Kade clasped one hand over Carl’s mouth and the other arm firmly around his chest and arms, effectively silencing and immobilizing him in a blink of the startled boy’s eyes. “You are bound and determined to get us killed, aren’t you?” He relinquished his hold and turned back to his vigil. Carl fumbled with the front of his shirt, staring silently at Kade.

Finally he offered in a barely audible voice, “That’s not Tiny. They’ve mistaken us for someone else. We’re not in any danger after all.”

A scorching glare from Kade withered the boy’s blooming smile. The man watched as realization slowly dawned in the deepening green eyes. Funny, those eyes—they grew paler with fright but shone with a dark and vivid hue the rest of the time.

“It’s you—it’s you they’re after!”

Carl’s accusation carried on the breeze. Kade grabbed him by the arm, dragging him back to where they’d left the stallion. The little troublemaker shook free from Kade’s firm grasp. He stared at the taller man with reproach in his eyes.

“I can’t believe this. Here I am, feeling guilty because I’ve put you in danger—after you were kind enough to rescue me and all—and it’s you they’re after. What is it you’ve done? Am I putting my fate in the hands of a horse thief, a bank robber . . . perhaps a murderer?”

Carl stood with his hands on his hips, sarcasm dripping from his mouth. His accusations crawled down Kade’s spine. He’d had enough. In two long strides, he reached the lad, grabbed him by the shoulders, and raised him to nose level.

“I did not rescue you. I won you, remember? You are not my guest on this little journey. You are my possession. I suggest you stay mindful of those facts and keep a respectful tongue in your mouth. I can just as easily
lose you
in the next poker game I encounter.” Kade set the boy down quickly and turned on his heel . . . but not before he noticed the emeralds dim behind a shimmering pool of tears.

The blazing August sun sent rivulets of sweat trickling between Carly’s breasts. She tugged at the binding, itching from the heat and moisture trapped within. Eyeing the man in front of her, she shifted position on the horse’s back. Once they’d finally managed to sneak away from the men with the rifles, Kade had insisted on doubling back, switching directions, and covering their tracks.

To Carly, it seemed they spent much more time than necessary. When she gathered the nerve to ask him about their delay, he all but snapped her head off with his harsh reply. She felt sure they’d lost their pursuers. Yet as they traveled across land that Satan himself would shun, Carly found herself scanning the horizon for riders. It wasn’t men with rifles she dreaded. It was a breed far more vicious, far more cunning.

“Are you an Indian fighter?” She immediately regretted having asked the question. Kade stiffened. She could almost feel his irritation like the sweat that soaked his shirt.

But she had to know. She’d seen how he outsmarted Tiny and cleverly escaped their trackers. He seemed equally capable with wit or weapon. While she feared and distrusted him, there was something she feared even more.

“I know there are men employed by the government to fight the savages in this area. I was just wondering if you’re one of them.” She held her breath, unsure whether he would answer her, ignore her, or knock her off the horse for bothering him.

After several moments, Kade asked, “And what do you know of
savages
?”

“Other than my personal encounter with the one who murdered my father and abducted me?” She let her sarcasm hang there for a moment before continuing. “I know that, since January, ruthless attacks along the South Platte River have left hundreds of white families dead. The savages have burned ranches and stage stations, run off cattle, stolen horses, ripped up telegraph wires, plundered wagon trains, all but cut Denver off from the East. It’s a wonder that we weren’t attacked during our journey out—”

“And where do you get your information?”

“Why, the newspaper, of course. Granted, the last one I had the opportunity to read was several months old. But the
Rocky Mountain News
is a reputable periodical. You do read, don’t you?”

Kade ignored her query and instead asked, “And did the
Rocky Mountain News
report on the events leading up to these attacks?”

“What? What events?” Carly felt her guard go up but sensed it was too late.

“Did it tell how Black Kettle, chief of the Cheyenne, along with Bull Bear and White Antelope, put their trust in the government? Did it tell how they led many Cheyenne and Arapaho to surrender after being promised army rations and safe passage to the reservation? Did it tell how they were denied food and shelter at the fort and later attacked while they slept by over seven hundred soldiers?”

Carly didn’t know what to say. She’d never heard any such thing. If the soldiers did attack the Indian camp, surely they had good reason. Didn’t they?

Kade elaborated. “As men, women, and children slept on the banks of Sand Creek, army colonel John Chivington and his men rode into that camp. Trying to calm his frantic people and avoid needless bloodshed, Black Kettle quickly raised the American flag and a white flag indicating his surrender. Yet the soldiers murdered all but a handful of those that managed to escape and bury themselves in the sandy riverbanks to hide. The soldiers scoured the area for hours to make certain no one lived.

“The
Rocky Mountain News
reported, ‘Colorado soldiers have again covered themselves with glory.’ It bragged of how they paraded through the streets of Denver, waving scalps and patches of hair from the women’s private regions. And this Colonel Chivington had claimed to be a preacher and opponent of slavery. Such was the brutality, I hear his own men are now testifying against him. I respect them for it, but I doubt Chivington will be brought to justice for this atrocity.”

The air felt thick. Carly’s stomach rolled. Her mind reeled. Could this be true? Could her own kind be responsible for, even proud of, such savage behavior?

Kade’s voice sliced the tension like a finely honed blade. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

He suddenly stopped the black and offered his arm. She grabbed it immediately and slid from the stallion’s rump, grateful for the reprieve. She took several deep breaths, anxious to settle her nerves and shake the disturbing thoughts that plagued her.

Every muscle in her thin frame ached. Her backside had never been so sore. She felt sure the flesh looked a great deal like that rabbit Kade had skinned for their breakfast.

At the thought of food, Carly’s stomach rumbled. She’d had little to eat in days. The first decent meal she had been offered didn’t have a chance to stay with her long. Dust coated her from head to toe. Her throat felt like dry, cracked leather. Grit scratched her eyes each time she blinked. She prayed they had stopped near water.

Hobbling around stiff-legged, she watched Kade from the corner of her eye. He loosened the cinch on the horse and draped the saddlebags across his shoulder. Carly decided he’d simply been trying to scare her, to shut her up, or even to punish her for being bothersome. When he turned toward her, she spun away, making a show of indifference.

She longed to remove her hat and the cloth strips beneath her shirt. With a deep sigh, she tried to redirect her thoughts. Raising her arms high above her head, she stretched long and slow, extending every muscle she could. She rolled her head from side to side, rubbing her tender bottom with the palms of her hands. Carly bent at the waist, careful not to dislodge the hat. With her hair tucked up beneath the band, it fit snugly. She folded herself in half, pressing forehead to shins, easing the tension in her legs and back. From her possum position, she noticed Kade staring at her with an odd expression. She straightened, spinning around to face him.

He appeared frozen in midstride, canteen in one hand, rifle in the other. A flood of emotions washed across his features. Carly couldn’t put a name to any of them, yet they seemed contradictory to Kade, and they made her uncomfortable.

The man blinked rapidly, focusing his gaze on her face. A dark scowl clouded his features. He growled out something about fetching water and turned to leave.

“Uh, I’ll go. I’d like to wash up a bit.” She stood her ground when his stormy expression seemed the only answer he would offer.

Finally he thrust the canteen toward her. “Don’t get lost,” he ordered. “We can make it to town by morning if we keep pushing.”

Carly didn’t dare ask which direction to go. She started off the way he had, hoping to hear running water soon. She was not disappointed. A little stream, possibly the same one they had followed earlier, tripped and tumbled over moss-covered stones. Hurrying to the water’s edge, she lowered herself to the ground, dipping into the clear liquid repeatedly. Her need to rinse away the grime burned as strongly as her thirst. She cupped her hand and lifted water to the back of her neck, taking pleasure in the cooling sensation. Though she longed to properly bathe herself, Carly knew she didn’t dare. Reluctantly, she filled the canteen and found her way back to her companion.

“There’s biscuits and jerky if you’re hungry.”

Kade didn’t bother to make eye contact. He pointed the barrel of his gun in the direction of the saddlebag that lay across a rock. Carly approached him cautiously, wondering if he was still angry over the incident that morning. She set the canteen on the ground nearby and hurried to gather her lunch. Sitting on a fallen tree, she took a deep breath and began to relax. When she looked up, Kade’s intense stare made her squirm.

She tried to glance away, but his gaze held her captive. He seemed to be searching the depth of her soul. Carly wanted to cover herself, to protect herself from his probing vision. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she finally found her voice. “What? Why are you staring at me so?”

Cocking his head to one side, Kade seemed to contemplate her for a minute longer. She fought the urge to pull her knees to her chest.

“Well, Carl, it’s just that there’s something you’re not telling me. I thought you might like to come clean . . . now.”

Carly’s heart leaped to her throat, making breathing difficult. “Wh-what?” She swallowed hard, forcing her heart back down where it belonged. It beat furiously against her ribs and binding cloths.

“I said, there’s something you’re not telling me. Perhaps you’d like to get it off your chest.” Kade crossed his arms over his torso and continued to stare.

Of their own accord, Carly’s knees drew up. She hugged them tightly, her mind racing.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or not?”

Another big swallow. “I, uh, I have no idea to what you’re referring.” She finally tore her gaze from his. She picked at the stringy piece of jerky she held. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears, she felt sure Kade heard it as well.

“I’m
referring
to the story you were telling me earlier about your abduction. You never said how you got away from the Indian and how you came to be in the company of a man like Tiny.”

Carly barely noticed that he mocked her by mimicking her. So great was her relief that Kade hadn’t discovered her little secret, she almost laughed out loud. She exhaled, allowing her head to fall forward, hiding the smile that surfaced.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. It just seemed to help earlier, and I—”

Her head snapped up. “No, it’s not that. I mean, I don’t mind. It’s just, well, uh . . .” Carly fumbled to regain her composure. She straightened her legs and smoothed the fabric across her thighs, refusing to meet Kade’s bewildered expression.

“Sold.” The single blurted word was all she could manage.

“What?”

“I was sold, like a pig or a mule. Or a slave. I assume that’s what Tiny intended to do with me, work me like his personal slave, once he finished blowing off some steam in Leavenworth. Anyway, you pretty well know the rest.”

Carly drew a long, slow breath. She had hurried through her account of the past several days as if they were nothing more than average. In truth, they were close to what she might imagine hell was like. Yet Kade had her so shaken, she didn’t know how to act.