Thunder on the Plains (8 page)

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Authors: Rosanne Bittner

BOOK: Thunder on the Plains
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“That's fine.” Colt took the hot iron from him, turning to Sunny, who lay on her right side. His heart ached at the look in her eyes when she saw the glowing piece of metal. “I'm sorry, Sunny. There's no time to wait. I don't want this to cool down.” He looked at her father, whose eyes betrayed his devastation. “Hang on to her.”

Sunny buried her face in the pillow, and Stuart grasped her ankles more firmly. By the light of a lantern that hung overhead, Colt pressed the red-hot iron to the wound.

Sunny had never known such pain, and she prayed she never would again. She could not help the screams as she pushed her face into the pillow. Her father's grip tightened, and her body lurched in a natural instinct to get away; but there was no escaping what must be. In her mind it seemed that Colt held the iron to the wound for a very long time, and she wondered if she would pass out.

Finally, she heard Colt telling someone to take the flatiron away. The burning sensation continued until Sunny felt an unexpected gentle touch. Colt was applying something very soothing to the burn. “What is that?” she heard her father asking.

“An old Cherokee remedy,” Colt answered. “My mother taught it to my father when I burned my hands once, and he taught it to me. It's a mixture of cornmeal and slippery-elm bark—good for burns. It will help take away the pain and make this heal faster.”

“Where did you get the bark?” Stuart asked. “There's no elm trees out here.”

“When your life depends on your own doctoring, you make sure you always have the right supplies along,” Colt answered. “Places like Bent's Fort always carry such things to sell to traders and scouts. They know men like us use the old Indian remedies. There is another poultice made from buffalo fat that the Plains Indians use, but I don't have any buffalo fat with me. Lift her leg a little and we'll get it wrapped up.” Someone touched her hair. “Sunny?”

Still shivering with sobs, Sunny finally took her face from the pillow. She curled her nose at the smell of her own burned flesh.

“You did good,” Colt told her. “How does it feel now?”

“I don't know,” she sniffed. Her father stroked the hair back from her face. “Kind of numb.”

“That's because of the poultice,” Colt told her. “We'll get it wrapped up, and I guarantee by tomorrow morning it will feel one hell of a lot better.”

She watched his eyes, loving him for all he had done for her. “Thank you,” she whimpered.

Colt grinned. “That's a hell of a thing to have to thank a man for.” He turned to take some gauze from Stuart and began wrapping her leg. Sunny watched him, wanting to remember his every feature, wondering how she was going to forget Colt Travis once this trip was over.

“I'm so damn sorry, Sunny,” her father said, his voice choked. He rocked her in his arms. “I could have lost you. I'll get you back to Chicago as fast as we can go, and by God we'll get a railroad bill passed so others don't have to suffer like this. I've seen all I need to see to know that we have to bring civilization to this land, towns with doctors and supply stores, a better way to travel out here.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I wouldn't want to go on living if something happened to my Sunny.”

Colt finished wrapping her leg, wondering how he was going to forget the sight of her slender thigh, or how smooth her skin was. Forbidden thoughts raced through his mind, how he would like to hold her himself, see the rest of that satiny skin, make a full woman of her. He pulled her skirt back over her leg. “Get some rest,” he told her, picking up the tin cup in which he had mixed the poultice. “We'll check the wound tomorrow night.”

“Thank you again,” she told him, shivering.

He nodded, a new look in his eyes she could not quite read. “I'm glad you're all right,” he answered. He seemed to want to say more, but he glanced at her father and his eyes changed again. “Let's all get some sleep.” He climbed out of the wagon.

“Stuart and I will be right outside, honey,” her father told her, kissing her cheek. “You just yell if you need anything.” He drew a blanket over her, and Sunny relaxed into the feather mattress, thinking about how Colt had looked at her, as though it had hurt him deeply to have to bring her pain. There was something in that look that told her what she needed to know, that he cared about her after all, much more than she had thought. She wished he wouldn't leave them when they reached the fort, wished she were older and knew more about men. If Stuart's wife were here, she could tell the woman about her feelings. Vi would understand. Since she had married Stuart, Vi and Sunny had become close. Vi was nothing like Vince's wife, who could be cruel.

For now, she could not even talk to Vi. She could only pour out her feelings in her journal. She wondered how she would feel years from now when she got out that journal and read it…and remembered Colt Travis.

***

“Well, it's too bad about all your misfortunes, Mr. Landers. I'll find you a good scout and authorize a few of my men to accompany you back through Nebraska, at least to Fort Kearny.”

The words came from the fort commander, a Lieutenant Amber, who had invited Sunny and her father and brother, as well as Colt, to supper. His cook had prepared a special meal for them of venison, potatoes, and carrots, followed by apple pie. After rationing their meager food supplies for weeks, the food tasted wonderful to everyone; but Sunny was unable to eat. Knowing that Colt would be gone tomorrow brought an ache to her stomach.

“Thank you for your offer,” Bo told Amber. “I'll never quite forgive myself for bringing Sunny out here. If I had known all that would happen, well, let's just say I'm more determined than ever now to build that railroad.”

“That will be a sight to see, a great boon to the army, I'll say that.”

Sunny was hardly aware of the conversation. All she could think about was how she could speak alone to Colt before he left them. Somehow she had to have a last good-bye. She wondered if he thought she looked pretty tonight. Here at the fort they had gotten new supplies and wagons, and Sunny was given the luxury of a room where she could take a real bath again. From her salvaged belongings she had retrieved a yellow cotton day dress that was one of her favorites. One of her father's cooks had ironed it for her, and she wore it tonight. It fit her blossoming form perfectly, and she had pulled back the sides of her hair with yellow bows. She was becoming more aware of her femininity, thinking of herself as a woman now, not a child. Colt Travis himself had called her a woman, and she was proud that he thought of her that way.

“I'm sorry about your tutor, Miss Landers,” the lieutenant said. “And your own accident. It must have been quite an ordeal for you. You're lucky you had someone along who knew what to do about that infection.”

Sunny had been staring at Colt, wishing he would look at her, but he seemed to be deliberately averting his eyes. She turned her attention to the lieutenant. “Yes,” she answered. “Colt saved my life more than once. I'll be forever grateful to him. My leg is healing beautifully, and I don't even limp now.”

Colt finally glanced at her while a private walked around the wooden table pouring everyone a glass of wine. A rush of something wonderful and unexplainable pulsated through Sunny when Colt's eyes met hers, making her feel too warm.

Colt directed his gaze at Lieutenant Amber then. “All part of the job,” he told the man. He felt almost guilty enjoying the fine meal the commander had served them while the rest of Bo's men camped outside, eating their own cooking around a campfire. He knew Amber would never have done this for the ordinary traveler, but the soldier had discovered that Bo Landers was one of the richest men in the country, and the man had catered to Landers ever since, following him around, ordering his men to see to their every need, ogling Sunny.

Colt could not imagine having people lick after a man just because of his money. He couldn't stand such fakes, and he decided it was probably a good thing he would never be rich. He would probably be landing a fist into people every day for their stupid groveling. He was getting a headache watching the lieutenant kowtow to Landers's every wish, but Landers was eating it up. He was used to such treatment and enjoying every minute of it. Colt was getting a good idea of what life was like for the man back in Chicago, everyone jumping at his every command, people impressed by his money and power.

“Well, if you ever want to do some scouting for the army,” the lieutenant was telling Colt, “just let me know. You're pretty young, Travis, but apparently very skilled. I'm sorry about your friend getting killed.” The man took a sip of wine. “By the way, which way do you think those Cheyenne went?” he asked casually. “They can't be too far from here if you had your run-in with them only a couple of days ago.”

Colt downed his own wine in two gulps, setting his glass down and giving the lieutenant a look of disdain. “You offered me a job as a scout, but I didn't take it, Lieutenant Amber, which means I don't have to tell you which way they went. Besides, I wouldn't have any idea where they were headed. I think all they want right now is to be left alone.” He looked around the table and rose. “If you'll all excuse me, I intend to turn in early tonight. I'll be leaving for Colorado at sunup.”

“Already?” Bo asked him. “We haven't even settled up yet.”

“I've got some things to get in order, some repacking to do. I'll be camped over near the livery. You can come there when you're finished. Go ahead and visit awhile.” He turned his eyes to Sunny, and he saw her own eyes were starting to tear. “I—I'm glad you're all right, Sunny. It was real nice knowing you.” Sunny felt on fire when his gaze moved to her bosom for a moment before moving to Bo and Stuart. “All of you,” he added.

Sunny thought he seemed a little defensive when he shook her father's hand, then Stuart's. “It was a hell of a trip, wasn't it? Thanks for hiring me, Stuart. I'm sorry things didn't turn out quite like we had planned. Good luck on your return trip. I'm sure things will work out for you.” He looked at Bo again. “And for your railroad. It sounds like one hell of an impossibility, but I have a feeling if anybody can get the thing built, it's you.” He glanced at Sunny again. “You and your daughter.”

Sunny could not take her eyes from his. Finally, it was Colt who looked away first, turning to the lieutenant. “Thanks again for the fine meal.” He left, and Lieutenant Amber turned to Sunny's father.

“You say he killed three men?”

“In the blink of an eye. I must say they deserved it, but you don't often see a man kill another with no hesitation and no regrets. He's killed others before this. Hard to believe, him only twenty.”

“Well, he's part Indian,” the commander answered. “It's in their blood. It's no wonder he won't help me track down those Cheyenne.”

“I like him, but he's a strange one,” Stuart put in. “One minute he's blowing a man away and the next he's all worried about a cut on my sister's leg.”

“Daddy, I'm not very hungry tonight,” Sunny said then. “May I go back to the wagons? I want to write some things in my journal.”

“Well, it's dark out there, Sunny. Why don't you stay with me until I leave?”

“There are lanterns at most of the buildings, and soldiers everywhere! Our men are camped around the wagons. I'll be all right.”

Bo frowned, setting down his wineglass. “I suppose it's all right.”

“She's quite safe, Mr. Landers.” The lieutenant rose. “Miss Landers, never has my table been graced with such elegance and beauty.” The man looked her over in a way Sunny was not accustomed to being looked at. Had men been eyeing her this way for a long time, and she just never noticed before? She didn't mind when Colt looked at her that way, but she didn't like it when others did.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she answered. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and excused herself. As soon as she was out the door she hurried off into the darkness, trying to remember where the livery was. Crickets sang as she scurried across the parade grounds to a building that was lit across the way. When she reached it she saw through the window a man sitting at a desk. She quickly entered, realizing she didn't have a lot of time before her father would look for Colt to pay him what he had coming. The soldier at the desk seemed surprised at seeing her, and he jumped up from his chair. Sunny noticed he looked her over the same way as the lieutenant and other soldiers had eyed her. She had even become aware that her father's own men watched her that way sometimes. It gave her a strange feeling of power.

“Miss Landers!” the soldier exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Where's your father?”

“I'd like to know where the livery is. I—my father sent me to give a message to a couple of his men who are over there right now.” She hadn't dared to ask in front of her father where the livery was, or he would know why she wanted to go there. Surely he wouldn't mind that she wanted to say a last good-bye to Colt Travis, but for some reason she didn't want him to know.

The soldier wondered why Bo Landers would send his pretty daughter out into the night to find a couple of his men, but the young lady who stood before him represented several million dollars, or so he'd been told. He was not about to question her. “The livery is only four buildings down from here.” He pointed. “That way.”

“Thank you!” Sunny hurried out, running along the buildings, counting. She stopped when she saw a campfire behind the fourth building. A man was bent over it, adding a little wood to get the fire going better. She recognized the tall frame, the fringes of his buckskins that danced in little shadows in the firelight. Her heart pounded as she cautiously walked closer, wondering if he would be angry that she came. “Colt?”

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