To Tame A Rebel (28 page)

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Authors: Georgina Gentry

BOOK: To Tame A Rebel
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He looked puzzled and shook his head. “The younger officers aren't always privy to top information—at least, not until it's time for action. Why?”
“Just making conversation,” she said lightly. “Now, let's go back inside before people start gossiping. Then I'd like to leave early. I'm very tired, and tomorrow will probably be a busy day at the store.”
 
 
As July passed, April enjoyed working at the sutler's store. The fort was a safe place to be, and certainly her living quarters were more comfortable than the primitive conditions at the Confederate camp. She picked up a lot of useful information from soldiers and passing traders, but nothing that would indicate a spy at the fort.
Will Eagle came by the store as often as he could and seemed determined to court her, although she was cool to him unless he was talking about post business. Many days, he was gone from the fort on scouting patrols and minor skirmishes. To April, it seemed the war was indeed slowing down, at least in Indian Territory.
She was saving her small salary so she could afford a stage ticket when the need arose. Two things kept her here: awaiting the arrival of the mysterious major, and hoping for more news of the big event the colonel had hinted at the night of the dance.
One evening in late July, she was sitting in the swing out back of the store when Will Eagle showed up. “Are you all right? You look tired, Kaw—I mean, April.”
“We've had some busy days at the store,” she admitted, “and maybe I've been working too hard.”
“You need to marry me and quit that job.” He sat down in the swing and took her hand.
“Remember?” She looked up at him and tried to keep things light, “we're not to discuss that until the war ends.”
He grinned. “In that case, anything I can do to hurry that up, I'd better do.”
She shook her head. “I wish you could. I'm so tired of the killing and destruction.”
“I'll take you far away, back east like you wanted.”
April didn't answer. She couldn't marry Will and let him make love to her while thinking of the man with whom she'd shared such passion, his older brother.
“You need to stop working so hard,” Will said.
“I'm not feeling terribly well,” she admitted.
“You see?” He looked her over anxiously. “In the summertime, we always have outbreaks of malaria and yellow fever. There's no telling what else these new recruits bring in. You've got to be careful.”
“I'll be careful,” she promised, and pulled her hands away from his. “Maybe I just have a delicate constitution.”
He took her hand again. “April, you need someone to look after you. The war can't last forever, and maybe—”
“The war doesn't seem to ever end,” she sighed.
“The Union will win,” he promised her, “and I'm doing everything in my power to help make that come true. So someday, you might think about—”
“Oh, Will”—she pulled her hand away again—“I wish you wouldn't—”
“Maybe if I did something big, got a promotion, maybe we could afford to live back east.” He would not be dissuaded.
She shook her head. “I can't honestly encourage you.”
“Then I'll keep trying until I change your mind.” His voice was so earnest, she felt ashamed and didn't look at him. She was embarrassed that her mind was on his big brother, and she was afraid Will might see that in her eyes. The swing creaked loudly in the silence.
“April,” he tried again, “I've picked up information that the rebs have been called to Arkansas to fight, but I don't think it will go well for them, no more troops and cavalry than they've got. Especially since our troops at Fort Smith have been tipped off that the rebs are coming.”
“How do you know that?” She looked up at him, puzzled.
He hesitated. “Everyone says so. When we capture rebel soldiers, they're always hungry and ragged. They're getting almost no supplies from the east because everything's going to the war efforts in places like Virginia and Georgia. It's only a matter of time before they'll be forced to surrender.”
She sighed and thought of Jim Eagle. “Some soldiers may never surrender as long as they think they've got a chance.”
“But they haven't, don't you see that? Maybe I can get myself a big promotion. We could live pretty well back east on a major's or colonel's salary, maybe.”
She didn't answer, thinking of his brothers. Yes, Jim and Tommy were probably going hungry, and the supplies from the captured Yankee supply boat couldn't have gone very far. “What of your brothers?”
Will sighed. “Sooner or later, they'll see that they can't win. They'd both be better off back on the ranch raising cattle and horses—at least, Jim would; he loves the place. Tommy never cared for the hard work of ranching. If he could get enough money, he'd probably move to a city and look for an easy life.”
Yes, that was what Tommy had told her, she thought. She looked into Will's eyes and smiled. “Tell me about this big thing that's about to happen.”
Will shrugged. “Don't know much right now. We're waiting to find out more about what the other side's doing before we go into action.”
“Now, how would you learn that?”
Will hesitated, then kissed the tip of her nose. “Never mind, dear. The less you know, the better.”
Chapter 21
“What are you telling me?” April sat bolt upright, causing the swing to creak loudly.
He seemed taken aback. “Don't look so shocked. I'm sure it's something both sides do, but so far, the rebels haven't been very successful. Why, there was a major . . .” He stopped suddenly, and April held her breath, waiting for him to say more, but the expression on his dark face told her he was certain he'd said too much already.
She took his hand and smiled up at him. “Of course, I'm just a silly, naive girl who doesn't know much about war. What was that about a major?”
He shook his head, his eyes guarded. “Forget I said that; forget everything except that I love you, April.”
She didn't answer, her mind busy. He'd almost told her something that she might need to know. Was the major he spoke of John Smith? There was no way to know, and if she pressed the issue, Will might become suspicious—too suspicious. There was nothing to do but wait and hope that he'd slip and drop more information. She looked at the small X of steel pins on Will's collar and thought of Jim scratching that symbol in the dirt. Was Jim Eagle the spy among the Confederate forces, and Will his contact? She didn't want to believe that. “I—I'm suddenly not feeling very well; it's so hot,” she said. “I believe I'll go in.”
“I told you, you looked pale.” Will took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips. “I'll be leaving on a scouting patrol tomorrow and may be gone a few days. You take care of yourself while I'm gone.”
“I will.” She extracted her hands from his and fled into the store, up the stairs, and threw herself across the bed, sobbing. Was Jim Eagle a spy and not a highly principled officer? If so, he was a low-life scoundrel. But was he any worse than she was, spying for cold, hard cash? Jim did not fit into her plans of returning to the east, rich and respectable. Somehow, her goal was not as appealing as before. She didn't want to think about that. In the meantime, all she could do was wait and hope that Will would tell her more or that the major would show up at the fort with further instructions . . . if he ever showed up.
She dropped off to sleep, and when she did, she dreamed Jim Eagle came to her and they made frenzied love on the soft grass, and she never, never wanted the dream to end.
 
 
Late July 1864
It had been almost a month since the Cherokee girl had knocked Jim in the head and escaped with his horse. The horse had returned, and Jim wondered if it had gotten away from the girl or thrown her. When he pictured her lying out in the woods somewhere, helpless and slowly dying, he almost went crazy. Then he reminded himself that she'd attacked him, not caring what happened to him when she left him out there unconscious and defenseless. He tried to be angry with the little chit, but at night, when he closed his eyes, he saw her as she had been in his embrace, passionate and giving. He didn't want to think of April at all, and yet he couldn't stop remembering her kisses and the moments of ecstasy she had given him.
As days passed, things were not looking good for the Southern cause. The Confederate troops were ragged and often hungry. Some of his men deserted, and he couldn't blame them—the war news from farther east was so discouraging. He knew some of them probably went over to the Union side, where there was food aplenty. Others probably just went home to neglected and ravaged farms. Yet Jim Eagle fought on because of a forlorn hope that the Confederates would treat the Five Civilized Tribes better than the Union had. It would be good to have their own state. Already, the Cherokees were talking of calling it Sequoya, after their hero who had created the Cherokee alphabet so that now most of the tribe could read.
One hot summer day, word came that the Cherokee Mounted Rifles were being sent to Arkansas on a raid.
Another officer brought the news. “Why the hell do you think they're doing that?”
Jim shook his head. “Fort Smith, just across the border, is strategic. Besides, there's probably plenty of supplies and fresh horses there if we can take it.”
“I reckon we'd better be gathering our troops and passing the word.” The officer started to walk away.
“Who brought us that news?” Jim yelled after him.
“Clem Rogers. You know he always knows what's going on since he's a scout.”
Jim thought about the other officers; particularly Captain Big Horse. The captain wasn't a very good officer and didn't inspire much confidence in his men. Besides being a goldbricker, he disappeared a lot. Jim wondered if Big Horse was like Tommy, slipping off into the woods to gamble, or if he was simply hiding out from his duties.
Tommy sauntered up just then, distracting Jim from his thoughts. “What's going on?”
“Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere.”
Tommy grinned. “You know we got a little pay, and some of the men wanted to shoot dice.”
“No wonder you always have money,” Jim snapped. “I wish you'd spend more time on soldiering and less time gambling.”
“I hate the army,” Tommy reminded him. “I wouldn't even be here if Mother hadn't insisted I enlist with you.”
“We've had this discussion before,” Jim said.
“When the war is over, I'm not going back to that miserable ranch. I'm moving to a big city and marry a pretty girl who wouldn't look at me if I was just a poor rancher.”
Jim didn't answer. His mind went to the girl he'd fallen in love with, and he hated her for it. What future was there with a whore who might also be a spy?
Tommy shook his head. “Jim, can't you see the South is losing? We ought to desert and go over to the Union side like Will did.”
Will. His beloved brother. Absently Jim began to scratch the sign of the Keetoowa in the dirt. “I'm sure Will did it out of principle.”
Tommy snorted. “You'd never believe anything bad about him, even if you end up shooting at each other. Just because you're guided by principle doesn't mean anybody else is. Money and power are what make the world go around.”
“Amen to that.” Captain Big Horse joined them.
Tommy snapped to attention and saluted, but Big Horse motioned him down. “At ease, soldier.” He looked at Jim. “The kid may be right, Jim. We don't own any slaves, so we've got no stake in this war. Have you given any thought to going over to the Yankees?”
“Never,” Jim said. “I believe General Lee and his cabinet. If we can't trust they'll set up an all-Indian state, the tribes are doomed.”
The mixed-blood Cherokee, Clem Rogers, sauntered up just then. “Who's doomed?”
“Anyone who doesn't support the Union, I fear,” Captain Big Horse laughed.
Clem frowned. “That may well be.”
Jim shook his head. “I disagree. My brother Will is a fool to trust the Yankees. That doesn't matter now. I reckon we'd all better get ready to move out.”
Clem nodded. “Orders are that we leave at dawn.”
 
 
General Stand Watie and General Douglas Cooper led their ragged, motley troops east toward Fort Smith, Arkansas. On July 27, a little group of Choctaws and Texans under Colonel Gano forged ahead and attacked a small force of Yankees at Massard Prairie, a few miles from the fort.
Waiting in the distance for the main attack as the surprised Yankees retreated toward Fort Smith, Jim Eagle watched impatiently. “We should have hit them with everything we've got,” he muttered to Tommy, sitting his horse at Jim's elbow. “Now they'll know we're coming.”
“They might anyway,” Tommy said.
Jim looked at him sharply. “Why do you say that?”
The younger man shrugged. “Captain Big Horse seems to think they might be tipped off.”
Jim frowned. “I don't know who would do that unless. . .” He didn't finish. One did not accuse a superior officer of treason lightly. “Never mind. Be careful, Tommy, when we go in. You've never been in a big battle before, and—”
“I know,” the other snapped. “I can take care of myself without any help from you.”
“I'll forget you're being arrogant to a superior officer,” Jim warned. “That's a major offense, you know.”
Tommy said, “We won't always be in the army, and someday you and Will will treat me with more respect.”
“Sure, kid. Now, fall back in the ranks. The troops are getting ready to move out. Unfortunately, those Yanks that got away will alert them at the fort.”
“Then why are we bothering to attack?”
Jim sighed. “Because there's supplies and plenty of horses there, and we need both.”
 
 
As Jim had warned, when the combined Southern forces finally attacked Fort Smith on July 30, the Union troops were well prepared. It was a pitched, fierce battle with shells whistling and men screaming as they were hit by cannon fire. Horses whinnied and bolted, throwing riders to the ground. Gunsmoke hung black on the hot air, so that dying men choked on the acrid scent. Sometimes in the heat of this battle, Jim was not sure where the enemy was. He was fearful of getting cut off from his men and trapped behind enemy lines, but he was more afraid that his younger brother might be killed or badly wounded.
Jim made sure he kept Tommy close, to protect him, but Tommy was too terrified to fight. He seemed to panic and, with some of the others, turned his horse as the battle intensified. It was clear now the Southern forces were being slaughtered, driven back. Jim yelled at his sergeant to sound recall, and then he reined in his horse, fighting a rearguard action so that his men could retreat. They left a trail of dead and wounded, even though they fought valiantly. In the end, the weary and defeated Confederate forces straggled back toward Indian Territory.
Jim had a minor head wound that had dripped blood down his face, but his spirit was even more wounded as his tired stallion stumbled along the road away from the fort. “We're beaten,” he said to his younger brother, “and that was our last chance to lay our hands on Yankee supplies. I don't know what we'll do now.”
Tommy looked very young and scared. “Will the Yanks come after us?”
“I don't know; I doubt it. There's plenty of Yankees left in Indian Territory for us to fight, and they know it.”
Tommy wiped gunpowder smudges from his face. “You think this will end the war so we can all go home?”
Jim shook his head. “We'll do what brave men do; we'll keep fighting as long as we are able.”
“That's plain stupid,” Tommy said.
“I agree with your brother.” Captain Big Horse rode up and fell into pace with them. “There's no hope left.”
Jim glared at both of them. “I'll pretend this conversation never happened. We fight as long as there's hope. God only knows what will happen to the Five Civilized Tribes if the Union wins.”
 
 
The defeated troops straggled back west into Indian Territory. It was a long, discouraging ride without the supplies and fresh horses they'd been counting on. Jim Eagle distracted himself by remembering the Cherokee girl and the minutes of ecstasy he'd spent in her arms. April Grant. He hated that uppity white name. Kawoni. Now, there was a musical name that rolled easily on the tongue. He thought about her as he rode, and wondered idly how she would look with her hair in braids and wearing a traditional Cherokee dress of bright calico. For a moment he imagined her weaving baskets, or in the kitchen of the cabin, making fry bread and succotash for the evening meal.
Jim Eagle,
he said to himself,
have you gone loco? She's gone, probably back east, and you'll never see her again. Anyway, that uppity would-be white girl would never be a Cherokee wife and live on a poor, small ranch. She craves the wealth and fine living of a big city.
He remembered her with a sigh. Kawoni was pretty. No doubt, if she played her cards right, after the war some rich white man would marry her and buy her that big house back east, give her fine clothes and lots of jewels—all things that Jim Eagle could never give.
They returned to their old camp, and now the military action was only desperate guerrilla raids as August passed. Jim Eagle stubbornly led his patrols and tried not to think of the beautiful girl who was gone forever.
 
 
As the heat of August made working in the store almost unbearable, April grew frantic. The major had never shown up, and she was without orders. What to do? One wrong step and she might be shot as a spy. In the meantime, the only clue she had was that small slip of the tongue from Will, which might be meaningless. She wasn't feeling well, either, which she confided to Will as they sat in the swing one hot August night.
He looked concerned as he took her hand. “Be careful,” he warned. “The water sometimes gets polluted, and people die from dysentery. There's also yellow fever and malaria every summer, but no one knows exactly why it happens then. Many think it's caused by stagnant water.”

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