Captive Trail (27 page)

“I’d better refill the barrels too. Mr. Garza will ask if we’ve kept them full.” Sister Riva took the empty bucket and picked up another near the back door.

Billie longed to be outside—to go even so far as the well with Sister Riva. Perhaps later, when the cooking was finished, one of the sisters or Quinta could go out with her for a short while. She would have to put on the long black robe, but it was worth the inconvenience. Her times outside seemed to come less frequently now. She hoped that when she went to the Morgans’ home she wouldn’t be kept inside all day.

A moment later, running footsteps heralded Sister Riva’s return. She charged through the doorway without the buckets, whirled, and threw the bar in place.

“Sister Riva?” said Sister Marie.

Billie stared at Riva’s hands. The sister gave her what she had been clutching—a Comanche arrow with green markings and distinctive feathers—two black and one white.

Q
uickly!” Sister Marie said. “Check the front door!” Billie dashed into the corridor and around to the entrance. The door was already barred on the inside, as usual. She hurried back toward the kitchen but paused in the dining room doorway. Sister Marie had interrupted the lessons there.

“She came tearing in with an arrow, Sister. What does it mean? What shall we do?”

The pupils let out some muffled squeals—not Quinta, Billie was sure.

“Girls, silence!” Sister Natalie’s calm voice held the authority they all needed. When they had quieted, she said, “You will go at once to the kitchen with Sister Marie and get into the hiding place.”

“Come.” Sister Marie, her face as white as the band of cloth on her forehead, beckoned to the four pupils. They filed out the door after her, with Sister Adele bringing up the rear. Sister Natalie’s gaze fell on Billie.

“Is Sister Riva all right?”

“Yes.”

“You were not outside with her?”

“No.”

“Where is the arrow?”

“I have it here.”

Sister Natalie held out her hand and Billie placed the arrow in it.

“A Comanche shot this at Sister Riva?”

Billie hesitated. If he’d wanted to hit the sister as she hauled the bucket from the well, he wouldn’t have missed. “He shoot it near her,” she said.

“Where is Sister Riva?”

Billie glanced over her shoulder. “I think still in the kitchen.” Sister Natalie started to walk away, but Billie tugged her sleeve.

“Sister, this not just anyone’s arrow.”

The nun stopped and peered at her. “Can you explain, Billie?”

“This is Peca’s arrow.”

“Peca? The man who wished to marry you?”

Billie nodded, feeling her cheeks flame. She had brought danger to the sisters, and now they had the young girls to consider as well. She should not have stayed here.

“You must get into the hiding place at once,” Sister Natalie said.

“No. Girls go. I help.”

Sister Natalie gazed into her eyes. “All right. We must barricade the doors and cover the windows so they can’t see in. The girls will need their blankets and pillows.”

Sister Riva came from the kitchen.

“Are the girls in the cellar?” Sister Natalie asked.

“They are going down. Sister Marie is giving them some food and water.”

“Good. Are you all right, my dear?”

“Yes, Sister. I was very frightened.”

“Not so frightened that you didn’t have the presence of mind to grab this and bring it with you.” Sister Natalie held out the arrow.

Sister Riva grimaced. “It plunked into the earth beside my foot. I dropped my water buckets and looked all about, but I couldn’t see anyone. So I grabbed it and ran for the door.”

“They let you go,” Billie said. Peca and his friends were probably out there laughing about it.

Sister Riva smiled faintly. “And I thought God protected me.”

“He did,” Sister Natalie said, “though I’m inclined to agree with Billie. He protected you by letting them not want to kill you, rather than by skewing their aim. Go to the girls’ rooms. Take them their blankets and pillows. And try not to stand near the windows. When the hiding place is closed, come to the chapel.”

“Yes, Sister.” Sister Riva hurried toward the bedrooms. “Both doors are barred,” Billie said. “Come. We will drag heavy cupboards in front of them.” Although the adobe walls were thick, Billie wasn’t sure they would stop Peca.

Two miles from the mission, Ned spotted a rancher working on his fence line near the road. He reined in Champ and called to him.

“Hey, Spence, you heard about any Indian trouble around here?”

“Nope.”

“We heard they hit the stage station at Phantom Hill last night.”

“That right?”

Ned nodded. Tree and Jud had halted near him and waited. “You think they’ll come down here?” Spence asked. “I don’t know, but I’d lock my stock up tonight if I were you.”

Spence gritted his teeth. “Can’t do that with all the cattle. Guess I’d better have my boys take a nap today and stay out with ’em tonight. Man, I hate those dirty, raidin’ Injuns.”

“Take care.” Ned tipped his hat. Tree had already resumed riding at a quick trot.

“How far now?” Jud asked.

“Couple of miles. At least no one’s seen any sign of the Comanche down this way.”

“That we know of,” Jud said.

They trotted along, not pushing the horses too hard. Most of the land around them was open range. Most ranchers fenced only their corrals and holding pens. In the distance, bunches of cattle grazed.

They crossed a creek, splashing through the shallow water. Tree had talked to the division agent about building a bridge here—in the spring this creek would be high for a few weeks, and the stage would take a long detour to get across safely. If they put in a bridge this winter, it would save them money and a lot of headaches later.

“Did you see that?” Jud called.

Ned reined in and turned in the saddle. Jud had stopped several yards behind him and was staring off over the rolling grassland.

“What?”

“A flock of blackbirds flew up all of a sudden over there—like something startled them.”

Ned peered in the direction Jud was facing and saw a small flock flying away, almost out of sight.

“Not us?”

“No.”

Ned looked ahead. Tree hadn’t stopped.

“Let’s catch up.”

“Right,” Jud said. They cantered until Champ was on the black’s tail again.

“Everything all right?” Tree called over his shoulder.

“Not sure.”

They kept up their swift trot, all of them scanning the terrain.

“I saw something,” Tree said. “Pretty sure there’s a horse down over that rise.”

“Where?” Ned asked.

“Southwest.”

Ned looked to his left, then back at Jud. “Stay close. We’ll be there soon.”

Jud nodded and urged his horse forward.

While the other nuns went into the chapel to pray, Sister Adele stood with Billie at the window slits in the front sitting room. With one of them at each opening, they could observe most of the yard. So far, they’d seen nothing out of the ordinary.

Sister Adele had brought a length of dark cloth that they hung over the windows. Billie pushed one corner aside and peered out.

“He is out there.”

“I know.” Sister Adele glanced at her. “He must be a patient man.”

“Yes. He has waited a long time to find me. I thought maybe he gave up, but no. That is not like him, to give up.”

The room was dim and cold. They had let all the fires go out, and they didn’t light the lamps.

“Tell me about the arrow,” Sister Adele said.

“It is his … his sign. Each man has his own. Peca has the green and black paint. I don’t know how to say it, but when we draw, we make marks.”

“Yes. A design, you mean.”

Billie shrugged. “Maybe. Always the same.”

“Yes. That would help them to identify their own arrows.”

Billie nodded. “Like they paint their faces and their horses. It means something—how many raids, how many captives. And the feathers—one white, two black. It is him. No one else would have these.”

“What else can we do to defend ourselves against him?”

Slowly Billie shook her head. If Peca was determined to take her back, they could not stop him. Maybe she should just walk out there—it would be easier for the sisters that way, and for the girls. Much easier. She felt a heavy weight on her heart at the thought of Quinta and the others going through what she had.

Sister Adele let her curtain fall over the window. “Billie, you said this man, Peca, left six horses for your family. Is that a marriage ritual for the Comanche?”

“He want to marry.”

Sister Adele frowned. “I am surprised you hadn’t married earlier. I mean, we believe you are past twenty years old.” She turned back to the window. “I’m sorry. That’s rude of me, but it does seem odd.”

“Not odd,” Billie said. She stood for a long minute, staring outward, wondering what the man who wished to claim her would do next—and whether she should tell Sister Adele the things she hadn’t told anyone else. Would it matter? If she rode off with Peca today, would it help her and the other sisters to understand?

“Taabe have husband.”

Sister Adele stared at her. “Peca?”

“No. Before.” Billie sighed. “Maybe is better you don’t know.”

Adele walked over to stand beside her and touched her shoulder. “Billie, you can tell me anything. But you don’t have to. We are friends.”

She nodded, tears misting her eyes. “Yes. Good friend.” She wiped her eyes and looked out the window. “That happen to Taabe. Now I am not her. I am Billie.”

“Yes. You have a new life now.”

Billie stood in silence, looking out the crack between the curtain and the wall. She could see only a small slice of the dooryard unless she moved. Slowly she leaned toward the other side of the opening.

“When they take me, I am a girl. I have a new mother and a sister, Pia.”

“Your Comanche family?”

“Yes. They are good to me. Not like here, but for the way the people live, very good.”

“I’m glad.”

Billie hauled in a deep breath. “Then a man wants to marry. I say yes. I don’t think I can say no.”

“Oh, my dear Billie.” Adele slipped her arm around her. “I am so sorry.”

Billie let Adele hug her for a moment. Then she pulled away, wiping fresh tears away. “Taabe have little son.”

Sister Adele gasped. “You—you had a baby?”

Billie nodded. “I love him. And … I know I cannot leave him.”

“Of course not. You couldn’t leave your child. But …”

“Husband die on raid,” Billie said. “When was this?”

Billie held up two fingers. “Two years. And now Peca want to marry.”

“But … where is your baby now?”

Billie’s shoulders drooped, and her chin lowered. “Husband die, and we were alone. My mother and sister take me into their lodge. Baby too. I want to come back to white world.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Numinu not let captives leave.”

“They still thought of you as a captive? Even though you’d been part of a family for years?”

Billie nodded. “Can’t go. And can’t leave baby. I love him.”

“Of course.”

“And mother die.” She sobbed. “Little baby die.” Sister Adele enfolded her in her arms once more. “You poor, poor thing. What happened to them?”