Witch Hunt (28 page)

“Jeez, you the only ones who made it?”

“Any of the others who lived through the raid are still prisoners of the Cheyenne.”

Another, more distinguished-looking man spoke up. “I’m Edwin Walker, the proprietor of the Cherry Creek Saloon. Sorry for your loss, ladies. What are your plans?” He gave Caroline — who, even with what she had endured, was still a great deal more attractive than Rose — a lurid look.

“Not what you’re hoping,” Rose said, her tone hard. “We’re decent ladies, and we expect to be treated with respect. We lost all our family and have no home to return to. With these milk cows, we plan to open a small dairy operation. Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Walker?”

Appearing appropriately contrite, Edwin Walker shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“Tell me, are the rumors of gold true?” Rose asked.

“The Cherry Crik’s got it,” Zach said. “And there’s some who swear that there’s a shit-load — excuse my cussin’ — up on the mountain in the Clear Crik, but nobody’s staked a claim just yet.”

“Good. Then why don’t you gentlemen tell us where we can have a small piece of this town to call our own. It seems as if we’ll be staying.”

When Thunder Eagle discovered that Red Fire Woman finished making the cradleboard Morning Star had begun, he went on a vision quest. If he had known that his white wife was pregnant, he would have already sought her out and brought her back. Surprised by the unexpected victory of her medicine over his, he let her go because she had won the right. But the fact of the child changed the matter entirely.

It was winter on the plains, and as he sat on the high bluff wrapped in a buffalo robe, the bitter wind buffeted him and threatened to extinguish his fire. He found the irony amusing.

He asked his medicine to give him the sight to find his child and the strength to claim it. Instead, his medicine gave him a vision of what atrocities were to befall his people in the short years ahead. He saw that if he were to return his child — he saw it would be a son — to his tribe, the boy would not live to become a man. He also saw that their paths would cross again, although the images didn’t reveal in what fashion.

He contemplated his vision, and struggled with the decision to allow his boy to be born and remain among the whites. A dead Cheyenne was better than a live white. However, unlike most whites, Red Fire Woman had the power to raise the child with correct knowledge. Perhaps he should let it be so.

Thunder Eagle lit the tobacco in his red stone pipe and asked Heamavihio to grant him the gift of patience.

“What are you going to name him?” Caroline asked as she placed Rose’s newborn son in her arms.

Rose was tempted to name her baby after her father, but that was the past. She wanted her child to be of the future. “Denver’s a nice name for a boy.”

“Well, it’s different. But it is rather fitting, I suppose.”

Rose, exhausted from the birth, put Denver Hawthorne to her breast for the first time.

Caroline sat on the bed next to them. “It’s spring. Soon they’ll be arriving in droves.”

“Soon I’ll be climbing the mountain right along with them,” Rose said.

“You can’t be serious? Not with Denver to care for.”

“I’ll wean him onto cow’s milk as soon as I can, and ask you to take care of him. You know the little bit of gold I’ve panned from the creek isn’t the windfall I’d hoped for. I’ve got a feeling about what’s up in the mountains.”

Caroline squeezed Rose’s hand, and Rose could feel her fear. “But there are grizzly bears up there. And there’ll be lots of wild men. It won’t be safe. Then, if you find gold, there are claim jumpers. Rose, I just don’t know what I’d do without you. Our life’s not so bad as it is. We’ve got this nice little cabin; our livestock’s got a snug barn. Our business is good and getting better. We might even find husbands among all the men headed this way. Why don’t you just chase off this gold fever?”

“Because I’ve got it bad. Don’t know any herbal remedies to cure it. Do you?”

“Oh, Rose.” Caroline issued a rare laugh. “Not a one. Not a single one.”

The Hawthorne family’s Book of Shadows had an entry about water witchery. It said that the art could be used to dowse for any natural resource … including gold.

There was still snow on the peaks when Rose packed camping gear on her horse’s back and headed up into the mountains alone.

A part of everything that exists in the world is in you. Therefore, you have a kinship with all life, animate and inanimate,
the
Book of Shadows said
. Because of this law, nothing shall remain unknown to you if you seek it with diligence.

Rose followed traces of the broken path that led to Clear Creek, where the Lawrence party had found gold and staked out claims. Not wanting to be conspicuous, she made her camp among the pine trees above the Creek and spent days exploring the mountainside.

Everything that exists is a form of energy. You must harmonize yourself with the nature of the energy you are seeking.

It wasn’t the gold in the creek that interested Rose. Through the winter months, she had tired of panning for the precious metal. She wanted to find a lode that could be mined.

To dowse effectively, you must possess a need. The earth doesn’t easily grant her favors.

Rose’s gold fever stemmed from a need to justify the deaths of so many members of her family. Now the discovery of gold meant something more to her than a mere accumulation of money.

This world has two natures, tangible and intangible. Both are identical yet different. The key to dowsing is found in knowledge of the intangible world.

Every night that Rose was on the mountain, she used the star mirror to find pockets of incorporeal gold, and believed she would eventually discover their material counterparts.

Unless the dowser knows harmony, success will be elusive.

Magic Man had shown her the quality of harmony, and the means to achieve it. As she roamed the mountain, she surrendered to the earth and became its friend.

On the third day, her wandering narrowed to a specific area north of the creek. Rose had never attempted dowsing before, but she felt confident that she possessed the gift. In truth, it never occurred to her that she might not.

Walk bare to the earth, so she can freely bestow upon your body her messages.

Rose removed her boots, thanked the earth for the discomfort of bare toes on the frigid ground, and withdrew the forked dowsing rod from her belt.

Grasp the forks, palms up, and rest your fists on your hips. Point the tip of the rod straight out ahead of you, holding it with only the force necessary to keep it from drooping. Then begin to walk, slowly and with a neutral attitude.

Within minutes, Rose felt a slight tremor of muscle spasms shudder through her arms, and the point of the rod tugged violently downward. The place the rod pointed at was a sloped area thick with brush and bramble. Rose dropped the rod. Giddy with anticipation, she grabbed the small miner’s pick that dangled from her sturdy belt and hacked her way through the dense growth of bushes and shrubs. Behind the brush, she found the opening to a small cave. She lay down on her belly and tried to fit her head and torso through the opening, but she was too large. She settled on sticking her arm in as far as it would go, and her fingers explored the sides of the rocky interior. Using her pick, she blindly chipped away some of the stone and withdrew a large hunk of quartz, which she set on a boulder and split. Rose gasped when she saw the sunlight reflect off the yellow veins that were revealed.

When the earth has presented you with her gift, don’t forget to thank her.

Chapter Seven

Summer

Montvue, Colorado

“Will you deny the Hawthornes and their witchery and accept Jesus as your savior?”

The man’s voice was muffled, as if he spoke through a mask, but Leigh was sure it belonged to Preacher Cody; the disembodied voice had the same rhythm and inflection as his.

She had lost track of time.

Leigh’s captors had bound and blindfolded her immediately after snatching her from the Catholic Church, and the restraints remained. Her arms ached and the cloth wrapped around her eyes was soggy from tears. The scent of mildew was strong, but the bed where she sat was clean; more than once she had buried her face in the fresh-smelling pillow to wipe her nose.

“How can you expect me to deny my children?” she asked.

“You must save your own soul. Then perhaps, with my help — and God’s, too, of course — we can save the souls of your children as well.”

“What, you’ll try to deprogram them with sadistic brainwashing techniques like this? No, I don’t think so.”

“It’s our understanding that you didn’t know that your husband was a witch. But despite your initial innocence, you’ve been tainted by his evil. You must ask God to forgive you and ask Jesus to come into your heart. Only He can rescue you from the clutches of the Devil.” The man’s voice seemed infinitely patient.

“Go to hell.”

“Why won’t you join Jesus’s flock, and then work with me to salvage your children from their abominable legacy? Don’t you care about their welfare? What kind of mother are you?”

“I’m tired. Please let me sleep.” She allowed her head to fall over onto the pillow and tried once again to fall asleep, but the man slapped her across the face and pulled her back up into a sitting position.

“You didn’t answer me. What kind of horrid mother are you that you don’t care about the fact that your children are going to burn in eternal damnation?”

Her tears returned. “I’m a good mother. I’ve always been a good mother. Please, just let me sleep.”

“No! We’ll not sleep until you come with me to Jesus.”

God, how her bladder hurt. As much as she knew she’d be humiliated again, she couldn’t hold it any longer. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

“The pot’s right here. I’ll help you.”

The man took her by the shoulders and guided her to the big pot that was on the floor next to the bed. He unhooked her jeans and opened the zipper, then pulled them — and her panties as well — down around her ankles. Her face burned with embarrassment. He steadied her while she crouched over the pot, and she winced with shame at the sound of splattering urine and the odor of ammonia that wafted up at them.

“The Devil copulated with you,” he said, his voice just inches from her ear. “Your husband served the Devil and now you’re unclean. Only Jesus can cleanse your body and your soul of the taint of corruption.”

“And I suppose you’ll redeem me by copulating with me in the name of Jesus.”

“No. I wouldn’t contaminate myself in such a manner.”

He devoted a great deal of attention to wiping her with the toilet paper before pulling her panties and jeans back into place and guiding her back to the bed.

Her stomach growled with insistent hunger.

“Do you want me to feed you something?” he asked.

“No.” She was afraid if she ate she’d have to defecate, and she couldn’t do that in front of him. “Some water?”

He held the glass to her lips and she drank, but it didn’t assuage the discomfort or help her feel any stronger. “How long have I been here?”

“Not long enough.”

“Please let me go.”

“You aren’t a good mother. Just like you haven’t been a good daughter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just look at the conditions in which your parents have been living. In the slums of New York. Living hardly better than animals.”

Guilt washed over her. She had always felt somehow responsible for her parents’ self-destruction. “They’re alcoholics. They choose to live that way. I’ve tried to help them — ”

“Don’t give me that crap. If you loved them, if you truly loved them, you could have helped them.”

Leigh bit her lip to try to stop its quivering. “What do you know about it?”

“Because Preacher Cody loves them. And he was able to help them.”

She heard him walk across the wooden floor, and then she heard the sound of a lock turning. More footsteps and voices followed. She knew the voices, but her mind rejected the possibility. The door closed, and the lock turned.

“Baby?”

Leigh thought she might be hallucinating. “Mom?”

“Yes, baby, it’s me.”

“Take her blindfold off,” a familiar man’s voice said.

“Dad?”

Fragrant hands fumbled with the cloth around Leigh’s head, while other hands untied the knot that held her wrists.

When the blindfold fell away and the sudden light stung her eyes, she had to force them to stay open. Then they grew wide with surprise. Her mother and father, as she had never before seen them, stood in the small room by her bed.

“We came as soon as we heard,” Sam Lindsey said.

Stunned by their presence, Leigh proceeded cautiously. “Heard what, Dad? Have you come to set me free?”

“Yes, we want to help your soul to freedom.”

Leigh felt the tentative rise in her hopes leveled by his words. She studied them for a moment. “You both … look different.” They were nicely dressed, seemed clean and well groomed, and their eyes were clear. Neither regarded her with the clouded, vague look that was an undeniable testament to their disease. Beyond that, their faces reflected a serenity Leigh had never seen.

“We are different, baby girl.” Dorothy Lindsey sat on the edge of the bed and embraced her.

Leigh sniffed for the sour telltale odor of liquor, but it wasn’t there. She held on to her mother for a few extra moments. It was the first time they had ever shared a sober embrace. “What happened, Mom?”

“Preacher Cody.”

Leigh drew back. “Preacher Cody?”

“He showed up at our place one night last week. This big
TV
star, this man of God, he came to our little dump to see us. He told us about your terrible plight — with that evil family — and he prayed for us. He sat right there on the floor with the bugs and the rats, and he took our hands and prayed for and with us. He said that God wanted us to be well, so we could help save you, and Kammi, and Adrian.”

“It was a miracle,” Sam said. “It really was. He asked God to remove our sins and cleanse our bodies and, well, look at us. I’ve never felt better. Didn’t go through any kind of withdrawal, either. And I don’t want a drink. God, Leigh, I never thought I could put the bottle down.”

Leigh stared at them and struggled with her emotions. “Is Preacher Cody the one who kidnapped me?”

Dorothy took her hands. “Honey, baby doll, we hired someone to try and deprogram you.”

Leigh snatched her hands away. “You what?”

“Preacher Cody helped us, and now we want to help you,” Sam said. “We know how you felt about Craig, but you can’t let that influence you to side with those witches. Your very soul is at stake here. Don’t you see that?”

Leigh shook her head. “That’s no deprogrammer, that’s Preacher Cody. And anyway, how the hell could you have the money to pay anyone for anything?”

“I sold the truck,” Sam said. The truck was his livelihood.

That silenced Leigh. Even with all the years of drinking and struggle, he had steadfastly clung to his truck. Did they love her that much? She had never known. “Oh, Dad, you shouldn’t have sold the truck.” Suddenly, she felt like the little girl who was always trying to make sure her parents were going to be okay, who was always trying to make things right. Her stomach wrenched with guilt. “You shouldn’t have sold the truck for me.”

Sam pulled Leigh to her feet and wrapped his big, burly arms around her. “You’re our baby. We never did right by you. We’re trying to do right now. Don’t you see?”

Leigh clung to her father, and her tears came like a flood. Emotions long buried surfaced, and she felt like a child of five. “Oh, Daddy, do you really love me that much?”

His tears mingled with hers. “More than that. More than I could ever begin to show you.”

“I love you, too. I know you think I deserted you and Mom, but I just didn’t know what to do to help you anymore. They told me I had to stop enabling you, that if I cared about you, I had to practice tough love.”

“And you were right to do what you did.” Sam used his handkerchief to wipe Leigh’s face. “And that’s exactly what we’re doing here for you. It’s not for nothing that they call it tough.”

Leigh disentangled herself from his arms and took his handkerchief to blow her nose. She struggled to steady her emotions. “Dad, this isn’t right. It’s not right to try and force religion on someone.”

“It worked for us,” Dorothy said. “I mean, look at the miracle.”

“But it won’t work for me! I don’t belong to any cult, and I don’t need to be deprogrammed. I just married into an unusual family — ”

“Not unusual,” Dorothy said. “Evil.”

“They’re not evil. This is evil.”

Sam and Dorothy exchanged meaningful looks, and before Leigh could react, her father grabbed her hands and retied them, while her mother replaced the blindfold that plunged Leigh into darkness once again.

Diane Fox studied the breaking national news on the screen of the
Post-Dispatch’s
computer.

Los Angeles (AP)
— The Zen Buddhist Temple of Los Angeles was firebombed shortly after dawn today. One monk, whose name has not yet been released, was killed, and fourteen other people were seriously injured. Police say the incendiary device was a pipe bomb, and a fundamentalist Christian group calling themselves the Christian Purist League has taken responsibility. In a taped message delivered to the
Los Angeles Times
this morning, the League was quoted as saying, “We’ve just begun to fight.”

San Francisco (AP)
— Six Hindus were assaulted on Market Street today. Witnesses report that the group was chanting “Hare Krishna” and handing out literature when the three men attacked them. The attackers, who used tire irons, were in their late twenties or early thirties and wore business suits. They were heard to shout that they were doing it for the sake of Jesus and the welfare of America. Two of the victims remain hospitalized in critical condition.

Hollywood (AP)
— NBC issued a press release this morning stating that its sitcom,
Senior Year
, has been canceled. Popular televangelist Preacher Cody threatened the show’s sponsors with a boycott unless they withdrew their advertising from
Senior Year
. The controversy arose because one of the show’s teenage characters dabbles in Wicca. Despite the fact that the show has rated consistently in the top ten of the Nielson ratings since its second season, no other sponsors could be found to fill the advertising gap. In a related story, CBS announced the cancellation of their successful Saturday morning cartoon show
A Witch Called Wanda.

Selma, Alabama (AP)
— Authorities are investigating the circumstances surrounding a house fire in which elderly recluse Melvina Jefferson died. Neighbors report that the eccentric woman was rumored to be a witch. Following last evening’s telecast episode of
Preacher Cody
— the second in a series denouncing witchcraft — a small contingent of Christians from the Watershed Baptist Church attempted to visit with the eighty-one-year-old Jefferson. The fire began shortly thereafter, and Selma Police Chief Dewey Chaney issued a statement that “its origin was suspicious in nature.”

Detroit (AP)
— The body of a three-day-old baby girl was found in a trash bin behind the Motor City Liquor Store this morning. Her throat had been cut. Police followed a blood trail to a nearby housing tenement and located the mother, an unwed teenager. She allegedly told authorities that the father had “been into the occult” and she was afraid the child would be demonic. She allegedly confessed to killing the baby as an act of mercy.