Heart of the Sandhills (11 page)

Marjorie ordered the twins to stay on the porch while she ran for the well and began pumping water into the horse trough. Robert tore up the hill and joined the men who had disappeared into the smoke pouring out the barn door.

A few buckets and farm tools and the plow were dragged out-side. They had just managed to get Jeb’s team and harness out when the roof fell in, sending a shower of sparks high in the darkening sky. The men staggered toward the well, coughing and sputtering, plunging their hands into the horse trough and scrubbing their faces. While they recovered, information was shared in short bursts. No one had seen any trace of Genevieve. Nancy was all right. Marjorie would take the twins and go down to stay with her. Jeb would stand guard over them with his rifle while the rest of them looked for Genevieve.

While Robert and Aaron saddled the horses, Daniel headed down the hill to retrieve their bed rolls. When his friends caught up with him, he was on his knees just inside his front door, clutching a piece of paper in his hands.

Aaron pulled the piece of paper from his hand and read aloud:

THE ONLY GOOD INDIAN IS A DEAD INDIAN.

Recompense to no man evil for evil . . . dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves . . .

—Romans 12:17, 19

“Please,” Gen begged. “I can’t—I can’t breathe.” She struggled to sit up, but in one savage move her captor slammed her back onto her side. She could smell damp earth beneath her, and something else. Oh, yes. The dogs. They were quiet now, but the dogs were here. A blast of cool air made her shiver. She lay still, waiting.
How long
, she wondered,
how long have I been here?
She tried to make herself think back, hoping it would help her breathe more evenly and gain more control over the sense of desperation. She turned her head, struggling to shift the foul-smelling cloth tied so tightly around her face so she could fill her lungs with air, but when she moved again he shoved her harder.

She didn’t know how long she had been in this place. One moment, she was hurrying along the road toward the Grants’ to summon Marjorie for the birth of Nancy’s baby. The next, some-thing dropped out of a tree behind her and everything went black.

“I’ll be back,” a man’s voice grunted, “don’t move or my dogs will eat you alive.”

At the sound of the man’s steps retreating, she listened care-fully and in the ensuing silence thought she could discern the presence of two, perhaps three, animals. She could hear them panting. She tested the man’s warning by wiggling her foot. Immediately, there was a low growl. She spoke and the growl stopped. But when she moved her foot again, the growl came back, forcefully punctuated by snarls.

One of the dogs came to where she lay. She tried to lie still, praying desperately while the animal went over the entire length of her body sniffing her, all the while sounding a low rumble in his throat. Moisture from what she could only think was the dog’s mouth salivating at the thought of chewing her flesh wet her bare arms.

After what seemed like hours, footsteps sounded and the man returned. He tossed something behind him and she could hear the dogs tear into it. He grabbed her and made her sit up, then slammed her against something hard. He pulled the blindfold off. She blinked and tried to focus. In the darkness her attention was drawn to his eyes, so filled with hatred Gen shrank back against what she now realized was the wall of a cave.

She couldn’t see the entrance. He had built a small fire or it would have been completely dark. She almost wished it were. If it were dark, she wouldn’t have those eyes peering at her. The fire produced just enough light to send the dogs’ shadows dancing on the cave walls. Still, she couldn’t make out enough of the man’s outline to discern much about him.

He sat opposite her, staring at her. When he finally got up, Gen realized he was a giant of a man. It was all she could do to keep from flinching when he crouched next to her and lifted her chin to inspect her face. She closed her eyes, afraid to look at him.

He swore and called her a vile name. “Look at me!” ‘When she opened her eyes, he smiled wickedly. “Good. At least you’re not pretending you don’t speak English.” He sat back down opposite her. “I know a lot about you. Do you know who I am?”

She shook her head.

He jerked the gag off her mouth. “Answer me.”

Blinking back tears, Gen stammered, “N-n-no. I d-d-don’t know y-you.” She swallowed.

“Well, you will before this is over. You’ll never forget me, either. I’ll guarantee you that.”

When this is over . . . she would remember
. He didn’t mean to kill her. The surge of joy Gen felt was immediately replaced with a shudder of dread, for there were worse things than dying and the way this man was staring at her made her wonder if he had a few of those things planned.

“I suppose you’re wonderin’ why?” he asked abruptly, throwing a log onto the fire.

“Y-y-yes,” was all Gen could manage.

“I’ll tell you. But first you have to tell me somethin’. You have to tell me what makes an Indian so stupid he don’t know when he ain’t wanted. What makes him think he can put down roots and farm land filled with the bones of people he’s killed.” The man didn’t wait for Gen to speak. Instead, he reached behind him and dragged a bucket out of the shadows and shoved it at Gen, who flinched when she saw the human skull atop what must be a pile of bones.

When Gen didn’t say anything, the man picked up the skull. He inspected it for a moment, then turned it in his hands and held it so that it appeared to be looking at her. When she tried to look away, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at it.

“That’s what they done,” he said. “Killed and killed and killed again. Emptied the whole territory. And now they think we’re going to let them back in to farm like nothin’ ever happened.”

“Daniel and Robert didn’t do any of it.” She held back tears, begging, “Please let me go. We only want to live in peace. To be left alone.”

“You want to live in peace and be left alone, you get that buck of yours and his friends to pack up and get out of this county.”

“Is that why you brought me here? To frighten us into leaving?” She spoke quickly. “But we’re going. As soon as Daniel’s reward money comes. And Nancy’s baby. That’s all. We’re just waiting for the money to buy good horses . . . and the baby.”

Afraid to meet his gaze, Gen looked past him. “Please,” she begged softly, “just let me go. There won’t be any trouble if you just let me go before anyone gets hurt.”

He laughed roughly. “Now who you think’s gonna get hart? Not me. Not my family.” He stood up. “Ain’t nobody goin’ to care much about one little squaw no bigger’n a schoolgirl.”

“My husband was a scout for the army,” Gen said. “He’ll find us.”

The man laughed again. “He ain’t gonna be lookin’ for you yet. Not when there’s a barn fire to fight. And beside that, I made plans. We ain’t anyplace he’s goin’ to think to look.”

A barn fire? Whose barn had he burned? Surely not Jeb’s
. Gen tried to think what to say. Finally, she said, “He’ll follow your trail.”

“I didn’t leave no trail,” the man said.

“Everyone leaves a trail. Daniel can follow anything.”

“You think I’m stupid?!” The man slammed the skull back into the bucket and called the dogs to him. With a wicked smile on his lips he whispered something low and the dogs went wild, snarling and snapping at Gen. She put her hands over her head and pulled her knees up to her chin, cowering against the wall, barely managing to keep from screaming.

As suddenly as the dogs had begun to bark, they stopped. Gen hadn’t heard the man give them the order, but they just curled up in a pile against the opposite wall, watching her. One by one, the man slipped a rope over their necks and tethered them to pegs he drove into the floor of the cave. He turned toward her again. When he pulled a huge knife from his pocket and opened it, she shrank away.

“I ain’t gonna’ hurt you,” he said. He bent over and freed her hands. Then he handed her a sack. “Eat. I got things to tell you.”

Gen pulled a stale half-loaf of bread from the sack and began to gnaw on it while he talked.

“I had me a good place up by Acton back in ‘62,” he said. “Everything was goin’ good. Then one mornin’ early I wake up to find three young Dakota bucks in my barn about to make off with my horses.”

Abner Marsh. Dear God, it’s Abner Marsh, and he knows it was Daniel
.

Marsh stopped midsentence. He stirred the fire and peered at Gen. “Seems like maybe you know this story.” He sat back, nodding. “Guess you can see how I don’t think too much of all those sad stories about how the poor Injun’s been mistreated. Me and my missus and the two girls got away just in time to see our place go up in flames.” He stared at the fire. “My Sally’s never been the same since.”

“I know about—” Gen swallowed hard. When Abner looked at her, she tried to soften her voice. “She told the women about your baby boy. At quilting one day. I’m very sorry.”

“I’m not a bad man,” Abner said. “I want peace, too. And as soon as every last Injun is out of Minnesota, I’ll have it.” He stood up slowly. “I’m goin’ to let you go tomorrow mornin’—if you promise that soon as you get there, you and your friends will pack up and get out of my part of the country.” He paused. “If you don’t, the next time somethin’ burns down, it just might be Jeb Grant’s house instead of his barn.”

“They’ll know you did it,” Gen said. “They’ll know and they’ll come for you.”

Abner roared with laughter. “Who’ll come for me? You think the sheriff in New Ulm is gonna take action to help Injuns? You think my neighbors are gonna come against me on your account? Fact is most of ‘em agree with me. They don’t want your kind anywhere near their families.” He spat on the ground. “They’re just too lily-livered to do anything about it.”

“Nancy’s had the baby. Today.” Gen tried to make her voice sound conciliatory. “You don’t have to do anything more. We were just waiting for Nancy’s baby. Captain Willets up at Fort Ridgely is waiting for Daniel and Robert to come.”

Abner stooped down before her. His eyes were dark slits. He rubbed his thumb across Gen’s chin, down her throat and across the front of her dress, then down her arm and across the back of her hand. There was no pressure, but the suggestion made Gen’s skin crawl. “Well now,” he said, “that’s good news. Guess we’ll just look on this little incident as insurance. Something that will make it clear in our minds. Keep your men from changing their minds.” He looked at her and licked his lips. “Anyone talks about changing their mind and staying on, you’ll be able to set ‘em straight.”

Gen nodded and Abner stood up. “I’m going now.” He nodded toward the dogs. “But they know what to do if you try anything, so save us both the trouble. There’s a storm brewin’. I’ll be back when it’s over.”

He ambled out of sight, leaving Gen in the shadows of the dying fire.

“You do what you want,” Daniel said. “I’m going to find my wife.” He swallowed hard. “And if she’s hurt—” He gestured toward where Abner’s trail led off into a field. “He leaves a trail as wide as an entire village.”

“We need help,” Jeb said. “The law.”

“You get whatever law you think will help a Dakota brave against a white man,” Daniel said. He motioned to Aaron to follow him. “I’m going to get my wife.”

“But, Daniel,” Jeb called.

Robert grabbed his arm. “Let him go. Can you ride up to Fort Ridgely and get Captain Willets?”

“I don’t see no call to get the military involved,” Jeb said uncertainly.

“You’re a good man, Jeb. But if there’s going to be trouble, I’d like to have more than one white man in Minnesota on my side. You tell Captain Willets what’s happened. He’ll come. I pray to God we won’t need him. But I want him.”

In less than an hour Jeb had headed for Fort Ridgely and Robert had joined Daniel and Aaron, following the trail left by Abner Marsh.

“Someone should have gone to the Marsh farm,” Robert said quietly. “Just to make certain it is him.”

“It’s him,” Daniel said tersely from where he knelt on the ground studying the shadow of a track. Clouds moving in from the West caused the wind to pick up. He got up abruptly and began to run along the creek bank.

Robert went to the opposite side of the creek bank. After a few moments when nothing had turned up, he called across to Daniel, “He’s not as careless as we thought.”

It began to drizzle. The men pushed ahead, frantic to find some trace. In the gathering dark Daniel finally found the imprint of a shoe. He tore up the creek bank and headed north just as it began to rain. At the top of the hill Aaron found a fragment of cloth clinging to a bramble.

“It’s Gen’s,” Daniel said and climbed back into the saddle. “But where is he taking her?”

Just as Daniel asked the question, the skies opened, drenching all three men in a matter of moments. Lightning flashed and the horses began to dance nervously.

“Let’s find shelter,” Robert shouted above the rain. “We’ll start again as soon as the storm passes.” No one mentioned what they all knew—that the storm was obliterating Abner Marsh’s trail and when the rain ceased they would be standing helpless in the middle of a field with no inkling of where to go or what to do.

An hour later, the men were still hunkered beneath a rocky ledge, wet and miserable. Robert spoke up. “If he meant to harm her, Daniel, he wouldn’t have had to take her so far away. I don’t know what he has in mind, but I don’t think he means to harm her. For some reason he’s just hiding.”

Daniel was quiet so long that Robert began to think he had fallen asleep. When he acknowledged what Robert said, it was only to croak, “I can’t think God would have given her back to me only to let evil take her again.”

“Neither can I,” Robert said. He put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

“God loves her more than we do,” Aaron said suddenly. “We should pray.”

Daniel stared at the boy. “Then pray, Aaron. I know I should. But I can’t.”

Aaron gulped and looked guiltily at Robert. He meant to help, but in the face of desperation, his call to prayer felt like a meaningless cliché. Embarrassed, he bowed his head and said nothing.

“Father God,” Robert said, “Daniel has no words. Aaron has no words. I have none, except to say that we give You Genevieve. We give You ourselves. And we ask You to show us what to do.” He paused, sighed, and then looked down, muttering, “I am sorry, my friend. That is all I know to say.”