The Beloved Woman (17 page)

“Miss, no. I bet the boss doesn’t know you’ve already been arrested—”

“Mr. Gallatin can’t counteract the governor’s decree,” Taylor interjected. “I’m sorry, Miss Blue Song. I wish that weren’t so.”

“There’s nothing Mr. Gallatin can do,” she told Morgan. “And nothing I want him to do—except to keep sending supplies for my work here. I’m not his concern anymore.”

Morgan gaped at her, then shook his head. “Miss, you’re his only concern, and if he
don’t
know that you been arrested, I gotta tell him. Otherwise he’ll skin me alive and fry me for lunch.” He turned and hurried away, almost running.

IT TOOK THREE
soldiers and a loaded pistol against his temple to keep Justis from going inside the stockade.

“Let that man up!” Captain Taylor commanded, striding
over from the small cabin that served as his headquarters.

Justis lay sprawled under the bruised and bleeding soldiers, who’d decided the only way to subdue him was to sit on him. They gazed at the captain worriedly.

“He can’t be trusted, sir! He’s damned wild.”

Justis spat blood and dirt out of his mouth and glared up at the captain. “I have a right to see Katherine Blue Song.”

“You have no rights at all,” the captain shot back. “This is a military post and I’m in charge. Give me your word that you won’t cause trouble, and I’ll have my men release you.”

“You’ve got my word.”

The soldiers moved off him and Justis got up, drenched in dirt and sweat from the fight and his furious ride to the stockade. He jerked his head toward the enclosure. “She doesn’t belong in there.”

“None of the Cherokees belong in there. But I can’t go above the governor’s order.”

“Who can?”

Taylor exhaled wearily. “General Scott could, since he’s in charge of the whole removal and he reports only to the President. He’ll be stopping by this station in a few days. I’ll get you in to see him.”

“
A few days
?” Justis stared inside the gate at the pitiful lean-tos and dejected captives. The place reeked of human waste and sickness. “Why can’t I at least go to see her?”

“If you’ll give up your weapons, I’ll let you. But you better understand this—if you try to take her out of here by force, I’ll have you shot.”

Justis smiled thinly. “Amarintha’s got you by the balls, I reckon.”

The captain pounded a fist in the opposite hand. “I’ll horsewhip the next man who blackens Miss Parnell’s name! Goddammit, Gallatin, if you want to see Miss Blue
Song, shut your mouth.” Justis nodded immediately and began handing his arsenal of pistols and knives to a timid-looking soldier.

When he finally found Katherine she was on her knees under a lean-to, holding the sweat-soaked head of a young man as she dribbled dark liquid down his throat from a tin mug. Justis recognized her, though she had her back to him and was dressed like most of the other women, in a loose skirt and blouse with a colorful kerchief over her hair.

His throat tightened at the sight of her proud, graceful posture and the deft gentleness of the hand that lowered the man’s head back to a dusty blanket. He knelt near her and touched her shoulder. “Doc, you look a mite overworked.”

“
Justis.
” One hand flew to her face as she swiveled toward him; the other reached for him desperately, then halted.

He made a garbled sound and grabbed her, staring at the bruise she tried to cover on one cheek. “Who did that to you?”

“Be careful. You’re hurting my arm.”

His gaze went to the bloody strip of cloth under his fingers. Breathing raggedly, he let go of her. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “I’m all right. I have many friends here, and they’ll make sure no one bothers me again. A few bitter women tried to show their joy over my captivity.” She smiled grimly. “But now they know that I wield a sharp scalpel.”

Justis wanted to yell with fury. The idea of her penned in this place, fighting like an animal to protect herself, was more than he could stand. The way she looked at him—proudly but with shivering restraint, as if she could barely keep from hugging him—made his hands tremble.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he told her. “In two
or three days, when General Scott comes. If he won’t listen to reason, he’ll damn sure listen to gold.”

“No!” She lost her pride and grasped one of his hands. Her eyes glittered with tears. “Justis, as ugly as it is, this is where I belong, where I’m respected and needed. My life is with these people.”

“Your life is with me.”

“Because of a promise you made my father? No, you’ve paid your debt. Don’t jeopardize your standing with your own people any further. Go back to town and just make certain that supplies are still sent to me.”

“I can’t walk away from my promises that easily.”

“Why are you such a dedicated fool?”

He groaned in disgust. “My loyalties ain’t ever gonna be decided by what other people think. To hell with ’em.” He met her gaze fiercely. God, he thought, in one way she was just like other women. She might not care for him very much, but she sure wanted to know that he was arse over teakettle for her. He wouldn’t give her that pleasure.

“You and me are stuck with each other,” he said flatly. “We didn’t ask for it, we may not want it, but it’s done.” He reached for her doctor’s satchel sitting on the ground nearby. “Don’t waste your time trying to figure me out. I swore I’d take care of you, and I never break my word. Just get back to work. I’ll help you.”

His harsh words made her stiffen. She let go of his hand and sat back on her heels. “You’re right. We’re stuck with each other. And I can use your help.”

H
AVING JUSTIS BESIDE
her for the rest of the day gave Katherine a deep sense of happiness she couldn’t deny. She tried not to think about him leaving.

He joined her in the dirty, hot work without much comment but with great effect on her patients. They stared at him at first—the ultimate insult in a culture
where it wasn’t polite to look at someone directly—and muttered to Katherine that they didn’t want the hands of a hairy
a-Yu-ne-ga
on them.

But they couldn’t resist his gentleness or his lack of qualms about doing whatever was needed. Nothing repelled him, not blood nor vomit nor worse, and by the end of the day word had spread through the stockade that this
a-Yu-ne-ga
was a good man.

An elder, lying weakly on a pallet of blankets, motioned for Katherine to bend her head close to his. He nodded toward Justis, who was holding a poultice on the man’s arthritic knee. “That one watches you with sad eyes,” he whispered in Cherokee. “He is longing for you. You stand in his soul.”

It was wrong to correct an elder, so she merely smiled.

When the sun sank behind the stockade walls and long shadows began to ease the heat, Katherine’s heart twisted with bleak anticipation. Justis sat with his back against one of the walls, holding a child who was sick with fever. He patiently let the little boy tug at his mustache.

How could she help but want him? she thought wistfully. She shook the idea aside and went to him, kneeling down and holding out her arms for the child. “Let me take him. You should ride back to town before dark comes.”

“I’m not goin’. I’ve decided to stay with you until General Scott gets here.”

“That could be several days!”

He glowered at her. “I reckon you need my help even if you don’t need me. Now, don’t jaw at me. Go find me some supper.”

His bluster worked well. She was able to nod brusquely and leave without kissing him.

CHAPTER 8

S
AM AND
Rebecca drove a wagon filled with clothes and supplies to the stockade the next morning. After it was unloaded they received permission to take Katherine to the small river nearby, with a soldier’s accompaniment. Justis went along, taking the fresh clothes and shaving gear Sam had brought.

Katherine welcomed the chance to wash, even if it was accomplished in icy water while Rebecca held a blanket around her. Justis simply called, “Turn your eyes, ladies,” stripped off everything, and waded into a waist-deep pond with a bar of soap in one hand.

Katherine ducked her head behind the blanket and laughed. “I suspect he wouldn’t have been so inhibited if you weren’t here,” she told a blushing Rebecca. “He’d have dared me to look at him.”

“Would you have?”

Katherine felt a rush of sensation through her breasts and stomach that had nothing to do with the scrubbing she’d given them. “Probably.”

After they dried and dressed, Katherine watched in amusement as Justis sat in the sun-dappled shade beneath a willow tree and tried to shave himself without a mirror. “You’ll whack your mustache off if you’re not careful, sir,” she called. “Horrors! You might look civilized.”

One of his chestnut brows arched wickedly. “The mustache stays.”

She sighed and sat down beside him. “I suppose I’ve grown used to it, anyhow. But here, let me have that razor before you need my stitchery on your throat.”

With a small flourish he handed it to her. “I reckon you can be trusted. It’s not as mean a blade as you’re used to.”

He tilted his head back and shut his eyes. Katherine got on her knees and bent over him, chuckling fiendishly but scraping at his beard stubble with great care. Rebecca claimed female illness and went off to sit at the river’s edge with her bare feet in the water. She told Sam, in a firm voice, to come with her. The soldier stayed back by the wagon, lolling in the cool haven of the trees.

Katherine was greedy for the private moment, knowing that another busy, brutal day lay ahead. She put sorrows aside and enjoyed the excuse to brush her fingertips over Justis’s skin and to study, up close, his boldly drawn features.

Looking at him always stole her breath, but she’d never thought of him as handsome. That description was reserved for sleek-faced men with aristocratic noses and delicate mouths. And yet she wouldn’t change him. He was like the gold nugget that lay over his heart—unpolished, birthed from harsh elements, and incredibly special.

“This crease beside your mouth could be called a dimple,” she said as she eased the razor over it. “I thought only dandies had dimples. There. Done.”

He made a comical sound of disgust and opened his eyes. “I guess you like it, then, since you like dandies.”

She was very close to him, and his taunt made her reckless. His head was still tilted back, his lips slightly parted. She lowered her mouth to his and kissed him slowly, catching him so much by surprise that he simply sat still and let her savor him with little flicks of her tongue.

She nuzzled his mustache and drew away just enough to break contact. Her pulse raced. “Thank you for yesterday,” she whispered, gazing down into his heavy-lidded eyes. “And everything else.”

He blinked languidly as she sat back. “I must be addled. I couldn’t think fast enough to grab you.”

She laughed, but when he leaned forward and his face came into a streak of sunlight, she grew quiet and frowned. “Let me look at you.” She caught his chin and turned his face fully into the light. “Oh, it’s just my imagination,” she said finally. “I thought your skin was a little pale.”

“I’m a paleface.”

She shook her head. “Tanned like a nut, you are. But stay healthy, or I’ll pour a foul-tasting tonic down you.”

“I do feel a little strange,” he said dramatically, laying a wrist on his forehead. “Put some tonic on your lips and I’ll kiss it off like honey. Put it somewhere else and I’ll—”

“You’re most definitely not sick!” Laughing, she got up and hurried away.

K
ATHERINE WOKE UP
with dew on her face and the unpleasant sense that something was wrong. She turned over on her blanket and studied Justis, lying next to her with an arm flung behind his head.

Like her, he was fully dressed, and the night was too hot to warrant any other covering. Moonlight showed that he had pulled the tail of his shirt from his trousers.
In sleep he had wrenched the shirt up, revealing a swath of bare skin above his belt. She watched the rise and fall of his stomach.