Captive Trail (28 page)

“Sick. Spots and fever.”

“That sounds like smallpox. Or measles.”

“Very sick. Many die. In the spring.”

“Last spring?”

“Yes. I was not sick, but … I try to help, but they die.” Billie wanted to weep until she had no more tears, but she couldn’t. Not now. She straightened and lifted the edge of the curtain. “You look. I cannot see.”

Sister Adele handed her a handkerchief and peeked out while Billie wiped her face. “I don’t see anything. Why doesn’t he just come up to the door and ask to see you?”

Billie shook her head. “I ran away. He would not ask. He comes to take me back.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Billie shrugged. Peca and the other Numinu men saw this as normal—raiding, stealing, killing when it was expedient. She moved to the other window and peeked out. Nothing. Just the same ripple of wind over the grass.

“You were a widow,” Sister Adele said. “They wouldn’t let you stay unmarried if you wanted to?”

“The chiefs … they think …” Billie frowned, struggling for words. “It was time for me to have a new husband. Peca wanted me, so he brought horses to the tepee where I lived. My sister, Pia, and her husband, they were my family.”

“So that’s what the six horses Quinta talked about were for. A bride price.”

Billie nodded.

“And he just tethered them outside?”

“Yes. If you take care of them right away, you want to marry soon. Most women make them wait. But if you wait too long, it means you don’t care.”

“About the horses?”

“And the man.”

“What did you do?”

“I wait until night. Pia’s husband say wait three days, then take them to water and he will know you marry him. But I don’t want to marry. When I tell Pia and Chano this, they get angry. Chano say they can’t feed me forever.”

“How cruel.”

“I think now he wanted to … to push me. Make me take the horses and marry Peca. But I work hard, and I help Pia much with her baby. Not right to say they won’t feed me. So I wait until night, and I take the best horse. And I run.”

“That’s when you came here?”

Billie nodded, but realized her friend probably couldn’t see that from several paces away. “Yes. But the horse … he fall. Fell. We go down.”

“I understand. And yes, you would say he fell. Today he falls, yesterday he fell.”

Billie smiled. Even in a crisis, the teacher came out in Adele. “I was hurt. When I wake, horse is gone. So I walk and Ned Bright find … found me. You and Sister Natalie and Ned Bright.”

“Yes.”

A faint sound from outside the adobe walls reached Billie through the narrow window. She nudged the curtain aside and turned her ear to the slit through the thick wall.

“Horses. Someone comes.”

A flicker of movement and the sound of hoofbeats drew Ned’s attention. As he turned to look south, Jud yelled. “Rider to your left!”

The Comanche warrior galloped his horse at an angle that would allow him to intercept them where the road curved.

Ned reached for his rifle. Tree had his out already. Ned glanced to the other side. Two more horsemen were coming up on their right flank. Champ and their other mounts were tired. The Indians had probably been resting their horses while they lay in wait. Ned gauged the distance to the mission. They were within half a mile. He worried about Jud, slightly behind him and leading the extra horse.

“Let go of Billie’s horse.”

“No!”

Ned gritted his teeth and hoped the animal wouldn’t cost Jud his life. To his surprise, Jud pulled Billie’s horse beside his and leaped from his own saddle to the one on the other horse. He leaned back toward his horse and yanked his rifle from the scabbard attached to the saddle. All the while, he kept hold of his own mount’s reins. Ned wondered if Jud could outrun the Comanche and keep both horses, but he certainly had a better chance on the back of the horse that had carried only a saddle’s weight all morning.

Jud spoke to the horse he now rode, low and urgent. Both Morgan horses surged forward, coming even with Ned.

“Go!” Ned yelled. He turned to his left as Jud swept past
him. The first Comanche was closer—within range if Ned could hold a rifle steady, but he doubted he could. And several more warriors were coming on strong in his wake. One let out a chilling yell, and Champ poured on a burst of new speed. The Comanche were closer, and there were half a dozen of them now.

As they rode into the turn, Ned saw that some scrub trees would obscure the view of those behind him for a few precious seconds. He only had one chance and wouldn’t be able to reload. He swiveled in his saddle, took the best aim he could, and let off a shot. He didn’t think he hit anyone, but prayed it would give the pursuers pause. He faced front and dug his heels into Champ’s sides.

Seconds later, Tree galloped into the short lane leading to the mission’s dooryard with Jud close behind him. They stopped so fast in front of the house that Tree’s black horse nearly sat on its haunches. Champ barreled up alongside Jud’s horse, and Ned jumped down, his empty rifle in one hand. Tree was already pounding on the mission door. Ned drew his Colt revolver and turned to face the lane.

I
t’s Quinta’s papa!” Billie ran out of the sitting room. By the time she reached the front door, Adele was beside her. They tugged away the heavy chest they’d dragged in to block the door. A gun went off outside. Billie flung the bar off, and Adele yanked the door open.

Patrillo Garza almost fell in on them, his rifle clutched in his hands.

“Comanche!”

“Come in,” Adele said. Another man behind Mr. Garza crowded close, holding the reins of two horses. Ned Bright stood beyond him near his mount, facing the road and holding a pistol.

“The horses,” the tall stranger called.

“Put them in the barn,” Sister Adele said.

“No, they’ve burned a barn up the line.”

“They’d steal them anyway.” Garza glanced at his magnificent black. “I hate to just give them to the raiders.”

“Sister Adele, what is it?”

Billie whirled around. Sister Natalie had come from the chapel, and Sister Marie and Sister Riva hovered behind her.

“Friends,” Sister Adele said. “Ned and Mr. Garza and one more, with—four horses. But the Comanche are just beyond the wall.”

“Bring them in,” Sister Natalie said.

“Yes, but the horses?” Sister Adele’s face pleaded. She, too, loved animals.

“The chapel,” Sister Natalie said. “They won’t hurt the stone floor.”

Ned fired his revolver, and the tall man aimed his rifle toward the road. Hoofbeats thundered past the house. “Get in,” Ned yelled. “Go!”

The women scrambled back and Mr. Garza entered the dim hall, pulling his horse by the reins. The black snuffled and stepped in timidly. Billie hovered in the sitting room doorway and watched as Garza held the horse’s head low and urged him quietly to follow. To her amazement, the black meekly walked the short distance to the chapel doorway. Sister Natalie held aside the curtain in the doorway to the larger room.

Now the tall man was in the front doorway. “Can someone help me?” he called. “I have an extra horse.”

Billie stepped forward. “I help.”

He eyed her sharply, squinting at her face, but said nothing as he placed the horse’s reins in her hand. Outside she heard more gunshots and a wild Comanche yell.

She stroked the horse’s sweet face and clucked to him. He calmly stepped over the threshold and walked with her to the chapel. A moment later the man appeared, leading the third horse.

“Ned?” she asked.

“He’s coming.”

“Taabe, squeeze that horse over here,” Mr. Garza called. “It’s
going to be a tight fit with four of them in here.”

Billie nudged the horse’s shoulder and flank, and it stepped obligingly sideways toward Garza’s black gelding. She dropped the reins and hurried to help Sister Natalie who was stacking the benches against the far wall.

“We’ll have to take these out,” Sister Natalie said. “Billie, snuff the candles.”

Billie wasn’t sure what “snuff” meant, but she knew the word “candles.”

“Dark,” she said.

“It’s all right. I’ll bring a lantern, but I don’t want the horses around open flames. If they knock them over, they could burn the house down.”

Billie understood. Though the outer walls were made of thick adobe, the inner walls, ceilings, roof, and furnishings would burn quickly.

She edged around the horses’ heads to the shelf that held a dozen small jars containing candles. Four were burning in front of the small statues on the wall. Billie blew them out, grabbed a basket from the floor beneath the shelf, and shoved the jars into it. They had better get all the glass out of this room while the horses occupied it.

She could barely edge past the horses to reach the door and realized the fourth horse was in. That meant Ned was safe, she hoped. She felt her way past the nickering, shifting horses, toward the light that spilled in through the hall doorway.

Sister Riva was hanging a lantern on a peg across from the chapel door. “Best not to put the light in there, I think.”

Billie nodded and looked down the hall toward the front door. Ned was helping Sister Adele push a heavy trunk in front of the door.

“Where is Sister Marie?” she asked.

“She and Sister Natalie went to check on the girls.”

“Good.” Billie could only imagine the girls’ fear as they huddled in the root cellar and heard the commotion overhead.

Ned came toward them. “Are all the other doors blocked?”

“There is only that one and the kitchen door,” Sister Riva said. “We put a big cupboard in front of it.”

Ned nodded. “These windows make it hard to see out, but at least the Indians can’t come in that way. We need someone keeping watch on each side of the house, but you need to be extremely careful.”

Billie nodded. “Quiet now.”

“Yes. I think they’ve backed off and are deciding what to do next. We surprised them by bringing the horses in. I’m grateful for that—but sorry for you ladies. They’ll make a mess of the chapel.”

“We will clean it up,” Sister Adele said.

Mr. Garza came out of the chapel carrying a tooled stock saddle. “Where can we stash our gear, Sister?”

“I will show you,” Sister Riva said. She led him toward the dining room.

Garza paused and called back toward the chapel, “Hey, Morgan! Bring your saddles.”

Billie stared at him. Garza hurried away, and she turned to Ned.

“Morgan?”

Ned nodded and smiled, reaching to pat her shoulder. “The man with us is Jud Morgan. Your brother.”

Jud returned from leaving his saddle in the dining room. As he came toward them, Ned’s gaze was riveted on Billie. She let out a little gasp.

Ned touched her sleeve gently and stepped forward.

“Jud, I know this isn’t a good time, but there may not be a better one. This is the woman we believe is your sister.”

“Billie.” Jud stared at her. The wonder on his face gave Ned no doubt that he saw similarities in her features to the little sister he’d lost so long ago.

Her lips quivered as she returned Jud’s scrutiny. He was so tall, he loomed over her. Both seemed overcome for a moment, then he held out his hand.