The Crossed Sabres (35 page)

The next morning Faith heard them arguing back and forth, and again she sensed that only Ansito’s curt orders kept the others from harming them. Later when they stopped for a rest and a drink at a small stream, she said, “Ansito, I thank you for being kind. God will reward you.”

“What kindness?” he demanded abruptly.

“I understand some of your tongue,” she said. “Enough to know that your word has kept us from harm.”

He seemed embarrassed by her words. “I will sell you for money or trade for horses. You will both be slaves of Sioux people.”

“That may be,” Faith said. “But I know what your warriors want to do to us. You have kept us from harm.”

He stared at her, but made no answer. She sensed the cruelty in the man and knew he would kill them with no remorse if the situation changed. She was convinced that God had worked a miracle, and she kept on praying for deliverance.

That afternoon the sky darkened, and a hard rain fell just at dusk. They stopped next to an overflowing creek and set up camp. Faith and Laurie were soaking wet and found a way to change into the relatively dry clothes they’d brought. There was no way to do this modestly, so the two knew they were being scorned and laughed at.

Darkness came quickly, and the Indians cooked a very small doe that one of them had brought in. As it was sizzling, Faith sat holding Laurie close to her. Ansito squatted across from her, staring into the fire, his face coppery in the flickering light. When the meat was done, the warriors gorged themselves, but did throw a small portion to her. It was half raw and had a strong taste. “Try to eat a little, Laurie,” Faith encouraged.

After the band had eaten, Ansito said, “Little Wolf, go watch.” The Indian rose and disappeared, and the other four began gambling, a game involving a wooden object.
They are just like unruly children,
Faith thought, watching them,
yelling with joy when they win and becoming sullen when they lose.

Ansito took no interest in the game, but sat wrapped in silence, his gaze glued to the fire. Faith wanted to move over to speak to him, but Laurie, worn out from the hardships of the journey, had gone into a deep sleep.

Half an hour passed, and the gamblers began to get bored. Faith grew drowsy, her head bobbing with weariness. She was about to pull Laurie into the blanket and go to sleep when a voice cut across the silence.

“We have come for the woman and the child.”

The warriors leaped for their guns, but the crack of a rifle sounded and one Indian fell, shot through the head.

“You will all die if you resist.”

Now awake, Laurie whispered, “That’s my daddy!”

Faith glanced across at Ansito, who was peering into the darkness for the man with the voice. The tall Indian had no weapon save the knife in his belt. “Who comes?” he asked, lifting his voice.

“I come for the woman and the child. Let them come to me and you will live. You are in my sights, Chief. If I pull the trigger you will die.”

“A chief does not fear death!”

“I know that. But there is no need. If you had harmed the captives, I would have killed you all. Now I see they are all right. Let them go, and we will leave you in peace.”

Ansito looked toward Faith, his eyes fixed on her. Faith said calmly, “God is giving you the gift of life, Ansito. He is rewarding you for protecting our lives.”

Ansito stood motionless during the tense moment. Then he nodded. “Perhaps true. You go now.”

Faith jumped up, took Laurie’s hand, and ran toward the voice. She saw where the horses were tethered and rushed over to mount. When they were both in the saddles, they nudged their horses forward. They had not gone far when a shape appeared, and her heart leaped when she saw it was an Indian, but then recognized the Sioux lookout. He put his hand to his lips, cautioning her to be quiet as he guided her down the path.

As the two of them rode away, she heard Tom Winslow say, “Your life for theirs. Do not try to follow us.”

Ansito said, “Take them. We will not come.”

Faith and Laurie continued down the trail, peering into the darkness. Soon they heard the sound of horses coming. Then Winslow appeared, his face tense in the faint moonlight. He halted his horse, reached over and pulled Laurie from her saddle. He held her without saying a word, and finally asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, Daddy! They didn’t hurt us at all!”

“Thank God for that!” he said. He put Laurie back in her
saddle and moved over to Faith. His eyes were filled with concern. “They didn’t harm you?”

“No. I told the chief God would reward him for not harming us.”

Bloody Knife came up, muttering, “Better go now!”

They rode away quickly, the Ree falling behind to be sure they were not followed. When they were five miles away, Winslow said, “I’ve been pretty scared.”

“I knew you’d come for us,” Laurie said proudly. “Didn’t I tell you he would, Miss Faith?”

“Yes, you did, Laurie,” Faith replied. She smiled warmly at Tom as she echoed Laurie’s words, “I knew you’d come.” The tension had eased, leaving her weak from the ordeal, but oh so grateful.

All the way back to Bismarck, Tom tried to define what was in his heart. He knew part of his fear had been for Laurie, of course, but not all of it. When they got to town, he took Faith to the Owens’ house, at her request. After the excitement of their return was over, Tom had a few moments with Faith, but he tried not to show his feelings.

Then she looked up and said, “I’ll never forget it, Tom, how you came out of the darkness to save us.”

He stood there, looking down at her, and the confusion he’d felt over her seemed to fade. He said simply, “Faith, when I thought something might have happened to you, it was as if the sun went out.”

“Why—Tom!” She was taken aback by his statement and impulsively put her hand on his chest. “What a nice thing to say!”

He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, holding his face against her hair, and was astonished to find he was trembling. He held her until it passed, then drew back, an odd look on his face. “You’ve got a way of making a place for yourself inside a man, Faith.”

He released her and walked away quickly as though he were afraid to stay, afraid he’d say more than he should.

Faith watched him go, astonished by his act.
You have a way of your own, Tom Winslow—of getting inside a woman’s heart!

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Seventh Pulls Out

On the sixteenth day of May a general order went out: The command would leave the following morning. On the eve of departure, the officers held a ball on the regimental street, and all the ladies from town attended. The couples danced to the music of the band, swinging around in the glow of the campfires.

Eileen joined the throng, looking at the fringes of the crowd to see if she could find Tom. At length, she saw him with Laurie, and waved to them. Since this was an officers’ ball, he could not come to her, so she danced with Cooke, Moylan, and several other officers—and later, Spence Grayson. She listened while he told her about the campaign as he swung her in and out around the other couples, seemingly enjoying himself. Then his eyes turned cold. Quickly she followed his gaze: Faith Jamison had joined Tom and Laurie.

“You heard about Faith and Laurie?” she asked.

“Yes. They were very lucky.”

His tone was so abrupt that she said, “You sound grim, Spence. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “I’m just thinking of how short life is and how few times we get what we want.” After a couple of turns around, he smiled down at her and said, “What am I doing? Here I am with a fine-looking woman and spouting grim philosophy!”

She accepted his apology, though not satisfied with his vain attempt at covering up.

Across the way, Faith had seen the look Grayson gave them, but said nothing to Winslow. Since he had rescued them from the Indians, she had seen him twice—once when he came out with Laurie to help repair the damage the Indians had done, and again in town just for a few minutes. She had known he’d be here at the ball, for Laurie had told her he’d promised to bring her so she could watch the celebration. This time Faith had sought him out, but he seemed tense, and she wondered if it was because of the emotion he’d shown when he’d left her at the Owens’ house. She herself had thought of the hard embrace he’d given her and the choking sound in his voice.
Could it have meant nothing?
She’d asked herself that question often, and now she was almost certain it had not concerned her, but had been his way of unleashing his strain over Laurie’s abduction and near disaster. Still, it was a precious moment to her, though she’d never speak of it to anyone.

How surprised Faith would have been had she been able to read his mind, for he was thinking of that moment with a sharp sense of regret, spinning his thoughts into a pool of confusion. He had made an offer to Eileen, yet he felt drawn to Faith. He remembered her firm body pressed against his, and how his whole spirit had reached out for her. He’d been more shaken by her captivity, by the possibility of her death, than he’d thought possible by any woman anymore.

Even now, standing beside her, feeling the pressure of her arm as it touched his, he was recalling the wild flavor of his youth when he had reached out for life with a gusto and a hunger that he could never satisfy. He’d been a man of hopes who believed in dreams, but somewhere along the way, he’d lost that zest for living. Disillusion had opened him up and drained out his faith—until now. Somehow this woman had brought back at least a memory of it.

His thoughts disturbed him, for in his last conversation with Eileen, she’d clung to him when he was leaving, saying breathlessly, “Oh, Tom! I hate it when you leave me!” There had been a keen hunger in her voice, and he’d left hurriedly,
afraid of his own desires. She had said nothing about his offer of marriage, and he wondered if she would ever bring it up. He felt bound by it, and his thoughts of Faith seemed to be a violation of his proposition to the other woman.

Finally he said, “We’ve got to go, Faith. This is our last night together for a while, Laurie’s and mine.”

“I envy Eileen,” Faith said, giving Laurie a hug. “I wish I could keep you!”

“Daddy, can I go out to the mission some while you’re gone?”

Winslow hesitated, knowing Eileen had been strongly against letting her go because of the danger. “When I get back, we’ll spend a lot of time visiting with Miss Faith.” Then he raised his eyes to Faith. “I’ll see you when we get back.”

“Oh, I’ll be here to see you off, Tom. I think the whole town will be on hand.”

And she was correct, for despite the fact that the next morning fog rested on the Missouri bottoms, Custer, ever ready for pageantry, paraded through Fort Abraham Lincoln, where many of the townspeople had gathered. The blue and gold regimental standard flapped above the headquarters’ group, together with Custer’s personal pennant, the old Civil War design of red and blue with crossed white sabres. A company guidon, swallow-tailed stars and stripes, marked each of the twelve companies that trooped behind in columns of fours. Mounted on white horses, the band played “Garry Owen” as the companies marched on past the quarters of the Indian scouts, with keening women and impassive old men; past “Suds Row,” with sobbing washerwomen and excited, playing children; past the length of officers’ row, with families watching in grief from behind closed windows.

As A Company filed through the gate, Winslow spied Faith among the crowd. At the same moment, she spotted Tom and kept her eyes fixed on him as he rode forward. He saw her face grow tighter and her lips move. He felt the effect of her glance, lifted his hat in acknowledgment, and continued on.

Half a mile out of the fort the regiment halted to wait for the supply wagons to come forward; the ranks broke and the officers and married men rode back to say a final goodbye. Winslow dismounted, but could not get the picture of Faith out of his mind. Finally, he jumped on his horse and galloped back down the hill. The grounds were swarming with people, but he found Faith by the gate.

Dismounting, he said, “Pretty picture, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Tom.”

To him, she was a picture of beauty, but it was the strength in her that he admired more. Suddenly he said, “You did well—when the Indians took you and Laurie.” She told him the whole story, and he commented, “If you’d shown fear, it would have been a different story—not so happy.”

“It was the Lord, Tom.”

“I think so.” He stood there, reflecting on the whole event, then went on. “I never heard of anything like it. Captives have been rescued—but not before being abused.” He shuffled his feet, not knowing exactly how to say what was on his heart. “Well. I guess I did some praying myself on that one—”

“Sergeant! Get back to your outfit!”

The curt command hit Winslow like a bullet as Grayson’s voice broke. The lieutenant had approached on a bay and vented his hatred from his position of authority.

Winslow nodded at Faith, turned and mounted, then rode away without a glance at Grayson. Almost as soon as Tom got back to his place, Custer rushed by, and all down the line sergeants began calling out their orders.

The regiment moved out into a snake-like formation half a mile long, Winslow and Hines riding side by side. They both looked back at the fort. Would they see it again?

Hines voiced their thoughts. “Be glad when we get back to that old fort again, Tom.”

The column moved down a ridge into the broken country, toward the spot that the whites called “Little Bighorn” but the Indians called “Greasy Grass.”

Faith stood on the summit of the hill watching the regiment move away, and at that moment the sun brightened the haze and she noticed that a shadow was thrown upright by the column. The shadow lengthened into a mirage, so that she clearly saw the regiment marching through and slowly fading in the sky.

A man standing beside her muttered, “That’s a bad sign. Glad I ain’t with them fellers!”

Libby Custer saw it, too, and would write about it in a book in later years: “A mirage appeared, which took up about half of the line of cavalry, and thenceforth for a little distance it marched, equally plain to the sight on the earth and in the sky.”