Sweet Prairie Passion (Savage Destiny) (36 page)

The next morning, she screamed and laughed when he arose, picked her up, carried her to the nearby stream, and jumped in with her. They frolicked under a waterfall, dunked each other, and kissed and touched; then suddenly they hugged each other tightly, both crying, while the water roared nearby. They didn’t talk as they walked back to shore, dried off, and dressed. It was done.

Zeke kept an arm about her waist and helped her up the steep embankment to where Olin already had coffee made and most of the gear packed.

“Sit down and have somethin’ to eat,” he told them, going on about his business as though nothing had happened. Zeke gave her one last hug and helped her sit down, pouring her coffee himself. Then the two men started talking, Olin never once looking at Abbie as though she had done something wrong. In fact, he said nothing at all and asked no questions. It was Zeke’s business.

“I’ve been out this mornin’,” he told Zeke, sipping his coffee and lighting a pipe. “Saw signs of Indians—a lot of them—probably more Crow, but not renegades like Givens had along.”

Zeke lit up one of the cheroots he usually smoked, and Abbie’s heart pounded with fear. “Goin’ in our direction?” Zeke asked.

“Mmmm-hmmm. Headin’ south. Some of their scouts might have seen the train and told the others. Probably figure on doin’ some tradin’.”

“I hope there’s no trouble. Crow and Cheyenne haven’t always been the best of friends, and I’d hate to have to be the one in the middle.”

“What do you mean?” Abbie asked, her eyes wide.

He looked at her, his eyes giving her the once-over and making her blush. Then he winked. “The Crow and Cheyenne warred bitterly for generations, Abbie. A couple of years ago we came to a peaceful agreement, and things have been better. But if there’s any kind of trouble, like, for instance, if Willis Brown or that preacher creates a problem, I won’t be able to do much to help them because I’m Cheyenne. They’ll figure me to be an enemy, too, so they won’t be much inclined to listen to anything I have to say. And if they look at me as a white man, that won’t help matters much either. They’ve got as much use for a white man as they do for a Cheyenne.”

“Zeke, I don’t think I could take anything more happening—anything bad, I mean. It was a Crow who put that scar on your face, wasn’t it?”

He actually chuckled. “Don’t get all worked up. I licked that one and I can lick any other Crow—just like those renegades back there.”

“Being against a whole tribe is different!”

He smiled and stood up, walking over to pat her head. “Don’t worry about it. Long as I’m around, you’re not to worry about anything.”

“You two ready to head out?” Olin asked.

“Soon,” Zeke replied. “I want Abbie to eat good first.”

“I’m not hungry,” she replied, her heart heavy and her eyes on the verge of tears. She did not want to go back.

“Eat. That’s an order,” Zeke told her. He handed her a biscuit and some jerky. “It isn’t much, but eat it down. I mean it, Abbie.”

She took the food, and he bent down to kiss her hair, then stood up and patted her shoulder. Those were his last gestures before they mounted up to leave.

They continued on a southwest course, following the trail of Indians most of the way, Zeke pointing out the tracks of the travois. “Must be a whole village,” he told them. “If they’re dragging travois, then they’re carrying supplies, and they’ve got women and kids along. A hunting party would travel much faster and they wouldn’t be packing along so many supplies.”

“They ought to be pretty peaceful then,” Olin replied.

“Ought to,” Zeke answered, seeming to be lost in thought.

By late afternoon the three of them rode carefully through thick forest as they headed for the South Pass. Zeke had advised them to keep to cover, not caring to run into the Crow just in case they were a bad lot. A few Crow still dealt in buying and selling women, and he did not care to be caught alone against a whole tribe with Abbie along.

Larks fluttered about, as well as butterflies. The delicate and pretty butterflies reminded Abbie of LeeAnn.
Her aching heart was full of gentle memories of her mother and her home back in Tennessee, and of herself and LeeAnn when they were small, playing with dolls. The whole way of life that had been so dear to her had been torn from her in a matter of a few weeks. Soon Cheyenne Zeke would also be gone, for the next stop was Fort Bridger; and she thought she might die of heartache.

As they crested a hill, below them lay a broad, flat stretch of land that seemed to go on for miles, right through the middle of majestic peaks—mountains that Abbie wondered how they’d ever cross—and there below them was the pathway. Zeke halted his horse.

“There she is,” he announced. “The South Pass. Damned pretty sight to a weary traveler.”

Abbie smiled. “It’s as though God himself put it there to aid people to get through,” she replied, fascinated.

“Some say that piece was smoothed out by a big glacier millions of years ago,” Olin spoke up. “It just shoved its way through and gouged out the pass.”

“Makes a person feel small and insignificant,” Abbie replied softly.

“That it does,” Olin replied.

Abbie stared in awe at the pass and the surrounding purple peaks. “What a beautiful land this is!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen such a place! I don’t think I could ever go back to Tennessee now. It’s like … like I left a different person back there. I feel like I belong out here now.”

Zeke turned to look at her strangely, almost angrily. Then he looked at Olin.

“The train is up ahead,” he stated, turning and
pointing. “See it? See them little white dots way out there?”

Olin and Abbie both strained to see. “By God, that
is
the train!” Olin replied.

“Ride on ahead, Olin. Tell them we’re on our way. I want to talk to Abigail. Just tell them I’m riding in slow with her because I don’t want her riding too hard since we both were wounded—whatever you can tell them. Just so they don’t suspect there’s any other reason we’d lag behind alone.”

“I understand,” Olin replied, nudging his horse into motion.

“And tell them … tell them you and me
both
took on the Givens men. Tell them they attacked us, killing David, and we fought back. That’s how we all got wounded. But we got them all. That way they won’t know she got caught alone with them. I don’t want them thinking the worse happened to her and asking a lot of embarrassing questions. And I don’t want them to know it was me, alone, who found her or that we spent those five or so days in that cave. I don’t want them to know any of that.”

“I’ll tell them. You and Abbie just be sure to keep your stories straight.”

Zeke nodded. “We will. Get going.”

Olin rode off, and Zeke watched him as man and horse became smaller. Then he spoke up, his back still to Abbie.

“I’ll flat out say it, Abbie girl, just so you know for sure. I love you. Don’t you ever feel ashamed for what happened. I respect and … honor you. You’re courageous … and beautiful and strong. You’re everything a man needs—except this man can’t have you
because you’re white. But I love you, and I want you to always know it. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so much. When I’m near you, you create a need in me that drives me crazy. I should be ashamed, taking advantage of a mere child like I’ve done. A man of my age and experience should have better control. But … you’re different. It’s damned rotten of me to fool with your heart like I have, and I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Everything that happened was because I wanted it to happen. And …” She sat staring at his broad shoulders and the long, thick braid down his back, loving him … aching for him. “And if you leave me … at Fort Bridger … then go with the knowledge that wherever you ride from then on, somebody loves you. Whatever happens to you, you’re loved and you’re in my prayers. I… I don’t think I will ever marry, Zeke. But if I do—Oh, Zeke, it doesn’t have to be this way! I can’t stand the thought of you being with another woman, and how can you stand the thought of me being with another man!”

He whirled his horse. “Stop it!” he growled.

“I can’t help it! My God, Zeke,
why? Why
do we have to part? I’ve proved to you how strong I am! I
can
live with you, Zeke! I
can
live with your people! I can take whatever—”

“No!” He said it so loudly and so suddenly that she jumped. “No!” he repeated, his eyes full of pain and sorrow. “Never again, Abbie! Never again will I put a woman through what Ellen went through!”

Her eyes hardened slightly in anger. “I never thought you’d be one to be
afraid,
Cheyenne Zeke—Zeke Monroe or whatever you call yourself!” she said
boldly. “You can go against men like Givens or a whole tribe of Indians, but you’re scared to death to love a fifteen-year-old girl! And you’re scared to death of your own memories! It can be
different
out here, Zeke! Out here people
accept
Indian and white marriages!”

“Sure! If the
man
is white and the
woman
is Indian! But not the other way around! How often do you hear about white women running off with Indians? Never! People put
labels
on women like that, Abbie! The only white women who sleep with Indians are the
prostitutes! Whores!
I’ll not let you be branded that way. Even if you were my
wife,
they’d brand you!”

“You’re wrong, Zeke! This is the
West.
It’s
different
out here! People come out here to be
free
—to leave all of those social barriers behind and to live a whole different way! Out here a man or a woman can do whatever he or she wants to do!”

“
Can
they?” He let out a disgusted sigh and removed his hat, wiping his brow. He looked out over the pass again. “You’re a young dreamer, Abbie girl. Moving from one side of the country to another doesn’t change human nature. It doesn’t change the way people were brought up to believe. People don’t change with location.”

“And there are always those who have to prove the others wrong,” she replied softly. “Those who are strong enough to prove it
can
be different.
You’re
that strong, and so am I.”

He slumped slightly on the horse. “I’m not as strong as you think, Abbie. I don’t doubt maybe
you
are strong enough. But I’ve got that memory … of my
wife and little boy laying in pools of blood … suffering horribly. I still wake up at night sometimes, screaming their names. Ellen, naked on that bed, her arms cut off, her head shaved …” His whole body shuddered. “You’re right, Abbie girl. I
am
afraid … of seeing something like that again. God knows a man like me doesn’t like to admit to a weakness, but that’s mine. I just can’t risk something like that happening again, no matter how much I love you.”

She rode closer and reached out to touch his arm. “But if I lived with the Cheyenne, away from whites, it would be easier—not as likely to happen, Zeke. For you I’d give it all up—a house, wood floors, windows, a fireplace with a clock on the mantle. I’d give up pretty dresses and fourposter beds. What good would a fourposter bed be to me if I was in it with a man I didn’t love? I could live anyplace with you, Zeke. I could learn the ways of the Indian. I’d do anything to be with you—
anything
!” The tears came then, streaming down her face. “God, Zeke, I love you so much!”

He turned and reached out to brush at her tears.

“It’s easy to talk like that when you’re only fifteen, Abbie. But after a while you’d hate me. You’d hate that kind of life, and you’d be longing for all those things. And besides that, Abbie girl, I see an ill wind for the Cheyenne—for all Indians. There are a lot of bad things to come, and they’ll get chased from here to the Pacific Ocean. The settlement of this land that’s just started can only mean the end of the Indian eventually, as more and more land gets fenced in and there’s no place for them to go—nothing for them to eat. Life will get mighty hard for them, Abbie. I see
starvation ahead, deprivations, massacres. It’s in the wind, Abbie girl. And you’d be right in the middle of it.” He shook his head. “It would never work. Never. And I’ve done a terrible thing to you! Forgive me, Abbie.”

She choked in a sob and covered her mouth, turning away. How was she going to live without Cheyenne Zeke?

“There’s nothing to forgive!” she sobbed. Then she whirled on him. “I won’t let you go out of my life, Zeke! Do you hear me! I won’t let it happen! I
belong
to you! And I know it was
you
that you saw standing beside me in that vision you had! It
was,
wasn’t it?
Tell
me!”

He jerked his reins, looking angry. “No! I know what’s best, Abigail! Now let’s get going! The sooner we get to Fort Bridger, the better!” He whirled his horse around in a circle, then started down the hill. She watched him for a minute.

“Zeke!” she called out. “I can’t go down!
I can’t!
” Tears poured out of her eyes. “It means … saying good-bye!” she choked out, as her panic began to build. She could not let it be over! But he just kept riding. “Zeke!”

“Come on!” he ordered. “Those Crow might be around close!”

“Zeke!” She just sat there frozen until finally he realized he’d gone a little too far away and turned to look up at her.

“You’re a
woman
now!” he shouted. “And you say you
love
me! This is no easier for me than it is for you, Abbie! Don’t you understand that? Please come down! Don’t make this so hard on me! I’m doing this
because
I love you! And if you love me, then get down here right now and show me the kind of woman you are, Abigail Trent!
Show
me you’re a woman of strength and courage, not a sniffling little girl!”

“I … love you,” she whispered. He was trying hard to be practical and give her the courage she needed. Why had she picked such a man to love? Why couldn’t she love a simple boy like Bobby Jones? It seemed everything that happened to her was destined to turn bad and to bring heartache. She wished a Crow Indian would come along and put an arrow through her heart.