Holdin' On for a Hero (13 page)

Maurice and Patricia walked in and Maurice went to stand in front of Chance as Patricia took a seat on a chair adjacent to the couch.

“I believe you have some explaining to do, young lady.”

Chance looked up at her father but didn’t speak. Maurice stared at her with an angry expression. Patricia spoke up, filling the tense silence. “Your father gave you an order, Chance. Tell him.”

Chance turned to Patricia, staring unblinkingly. Patricia’s face reddened and she jumped up, grabbing Chance’s arm. “I said tell him, goddammit! Tell him how you fucked around with god only knows who and got yourself pregnant!”

Chance jerked her arm away and glared at Patricia. “Don’t ever touch me again.” Her voice was low but firm. “I mean it, Patricia. Don’t even come near me.”

Maurice took Patricia’s arm and held up his hand to silence her as she started to speak. She reclaimed her seat and Maurice turned to Chance. “Do you have any idea how damaging this could be to my reputation if it should get out? I can’t believe you would do this to me. For god’s sakes, Chance, I’ve given you everything! How could you do this to me—not to mention Patricia!”

Chance jumped up and faced her father. “Just stop! This has nothing to do with you—or her either. I’m pregnant, that’s all there is to it. You’re just going to have to live with it. Now, if I may be excused—”

Maurice grabbed her arm and jerked her around as she tried to walk past him. “You traitorous little slut!” he shouted and backhanded her.

She fell against the couch wiped at the trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth and stared up at her father. “Who’s the father of this bastard?” he yelled, reaching for her. “Who?”

Chance screamed and tried to evade his grasp but he pulled her up and slapped her again. “Tell me, damn you! Who did this?”

She pushed at him and broke away. Maurice was breathing hard, and red in the face. She backed up toward the door. “I’ll never tell you! Leave me alone!” she cried as she ran out the door.

Adeola was waiting in her room. Chance ran in and locked the door behind her. She threw herself in Adeola’s arms and cried. After a while Adeola dried her face and made her sit up. “Now, Chance, you have to listen to me. Your father won’t give up until he knows who the father is. You have to tell him. Just like you have to tell the father. He deserves to know.”

Chance’s eyes grew round and she jumped up. “Yes! You’re right! Oh, Adeola, I have to find him right away. I have to talk to him!”

“Then Wyatt is the father.”

Chance turned to look at her in surprise. “Why do you say that?”

“Child, you can’t hide the way you feel about him from me. Love’s been shining in your eyes for that boy since you were five years old. But Chance, Wyatt’s engaged to be married. He may not want to change those plans.”

Chance looked down at the floor. “I know. But he does have to know, Adeola. It’s his baby.”

“Are you sure?”

“He’s the only one. It couldn’t be anyone else.”

“Then maybe you should call him.”

Chance grabbed her address book. “I found his phone number in Maurice’s Rolodex,” she said as she sat down on the bed and dialed. “Is this Wyatt Wolf’s residence?… Oh, hi, Cheryl. This is Chance Davenport. Is Wyatt there?… Oh, well, when he gets back would you tell him to call me. It’s very important… Yes, I’ll tell her you said hi. Thanks, bye.”

She hung up and looked at Adeola. “She said she’d have him call.”

Adeola nodded but said nothing. Chance went into the bathroom and washed her face then picked up a book and flipped through it. The phone rang and she snatched it up. “Hello? What do you want?… Fine.”

“Patricia wants you to go to Father’s study.” She looked at Adeola.

Adeola nodded and left the room. Chance paced the floor, keeping her eyes glued on the clock. An hour passed and she started to feel like a time bomb whose counter was approaching the moment of detonation. Then her door opened and Patricia walked in.

“Get out!” Chance demanded. “I don’t want you here.”

“That’s just too bad.” Patricia locked the door and leaned back against it. “You and I are going to get some things settled right now.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Chance turned her back to Patricia.

“You don’t have to talk. In fact, I’d prefer that you just keep your mouth shut and listen. I know who the father is and I’m going to tell Maurice. When he finds out he’ll have Wyatt arrested for rape.”

Chance whirled around. “It wasn’t rape! He didn’t force me. In fact he tried to talk me out of it. I was the one who wanted to so if you want to blame someone, then blame me.”

“I won’t have you bringing a bastard half-breed into this house. Accept that, Chance. Also, you might as well accept that Wyatt doesn’t want you. You won’t ever have him and you won’t have his bastard child either. I’ve made sure of that.”

“Go to hell. And get out of my room!”

Patricia left and Chance turned to look at the phone. After a moment she snatched it up and dialed Wyatt’s number. “Cheryl? Hi, it’s Chance again. Listen, would you—”

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Speechlessly she let the phone fall from her fingers. Her face wore a look of a trapped animal. She sank down on the bed and stared mutely across the room, not knowing what to do.

Snapping to as she made up her mind, she frantically grabbed a suitcase out of the closet and stuffed clothes in it at random. She snatched up her purse and keys.e opened the door and looked out into the hall. It was empty so she ran to the stairs and looked over the banister. There was no one in sight.

Chance ran down the stairs and headed across the foyer. She flung the door open and ran right into Maurice. He grabbed her by both arms and pushed her back inside. She dropped the suitcase with a scream and fought at him but he would not release her. She saw two men dressed in white enter.

“We’ll take it from here, Mr. Davenport,” one of the men said then looked at Chance. “Now, let’s just calm down, Miss Davenport. Everything’s going to be just fine. Just come with us.”

Chance looked from the men to her father. “Who are these people? Why are they here?”

“They’re going to take you to the hospital,” Patricia’s voice came from behind her. “You’re going to get rid of this…this abomination you’re carrying.”

“No!” Chance screamed and kicked Maurice in the knee. His leg buckled and he let go of her. She eyed the two men in white. “Get away from me. I’m not going to abort this baby and none of you can make me. Get out of my way.”

Patricia grabbed her arm from behind and Chance turned, punching her in the face. Blood spurted from Patricia’s nose and she started screaming. One of the men in white grabbed Chance and pinned her arms to her sides. She kicked and screamed and he stumbled around, trying to hang on to her. “Get off me! Let me go! Noooo! You’re not taking my baby! Damn you, stop!”

The other man rushed over and stabbed something in the side of Chance’s neck. She thrashed around, trying to free herself but her efforts became weaker as the drug took effect. Eventually the man loosened his hold on her and she sagged in his arms.

“Please don’t do this,” she begged, reaching out to Maurice. “Please, Father, please. If you love me, don’t kill my baby. Please, I’ll do anything you say just don’t hurt my baby.”

He hobbled over to her and looked at the men who supported her. “Get her out of here.”

Chance screamed and cried, pleading with the men to let her go as they took her out and put her in the ambulance. They strapped her down and put a needle in her arm. Her eyes rolled back and unconsciousness claimed her.

Her body went limp and for a long time she didn’t speak or move. Wyatt felt tears fall from his own eyes. For years he had carried a burning rage inside him for what she had done. Now the truth was finally revealed. She had not betrayed him and killed his unborn child. She had tried to save it.

Chance’s breath quickened and she turned her head, looking toward the fire. “I hate you. You killed my baby,” she said in a cold, emotionless tone. “One day you’ll pay for this, Father.” Then she closed her eyes.

Wyatt sat silently, mentally pulling away from her and her pain. He could not take any more and didn’t think she could either. There had been more than enough hidden truths revealed this night. Touching the side of her face he spoke gently. “Chance? Can you hear me?”

For a long time she didn’t respond. Wyatt felt a jolt of fear and without warning he was sucked down a long well of darkness, spinning out of control. Abruptly he found himself sitting by the fire. He turned and looked to Tsa’li for help. “What’s wrong with her?”

Tsa’li went to his side. He put his hand on Chance’s chest then gently lifted her eyelids. “She is locked in a memory that is not to be shared. Give her time to pass through the remembrance. She will return.”

Wyatt sat down beside her and waited. After several long minutes she moved slightly.

“Wyatt?” she whispered, moving her hands over her abdomen. “Can you hear me? I’m your mother. Your father’s name is Wyatt, too. I love you, Wyatt. I always will, even if we can’t be together. You have to know that I didn’t kill you. It was my father and Patricia. I tried to stop them, but they drugged me so they could kill you. They called me names and said bad things about your father. But he’s not a bad man, he’s good. The best. I know he would have loved you if he’d had the chance. I’m sorry. I tried, I really did.”

Wyatt lifted her up, supporting her in his arms. “You must bring her back now,” Tsa’li directed. “She cannot stand the strain of  more. There is too much pain. Bring her back.”

Wyatt settled her before the fire again and put his hands on either side of her face. “Chance, listen to me. You have to leave that place. You have to come back. Leave the pain behind and come back.”

“Wyatt?” Her eyes stared straight ahead without blinking. “Why—how did you get here?”

“I’m here to take you back. You have to leave this place.”

“There’s nothing to come back to. They took it all away from me.”

“No, you’re wrong. Chance, please, come back. Do it for me.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “I have never been able to say no to you, Wyatt. That’s going to be my undoing.”

A moment later her eyes opened. As soon as she saw Wyatt she closed them tightly and lay rigidly in his arms, quivering like she was cold. Wyatt looked to Tsa’li for guidance. “What should I do?”

Tsa’li shook his head. “Do nothing. She requires time.”

For over an hour Wyatt sat holding her. The tension didn’t lessen or leave. She continued to shake but at last she opened her eyes and looked at him. He saw the tears welling in her eyes. Her voice was choked with emotion when she spoke. “My god, Wyatt, he killed our child.”

He nodded and continued to look into her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered miserably.

Wyatt pulled her up against him and held her close. Chance cried for a long time, then dried her face and sat up. “Tsa’li Eaglefoot, I don’t know how you made all this happen and I’m not sure I’d believe it if you told me. Part of me wishes you’d never helped me remember but I know it’s for the best. And I also know that I owe you a debt of thanks I have no idea how to repay. You helped me see the truth about things. My life hasn’t been at all what I thought it was. I’ve been living a lie and didn’t even know it. Thanks to you, I know, and whatever you ask of me in payment is yours.”

Tsa’li nodded and stood up. He walked to her and took her hands in his. “Look at me,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. Their eyes met and Chance felt reality as she knew it slip away. Falling into another realm, she was filled with answers to questions she had not thought to ask.

After a minute or so she blinked and came back to her own reality. Tsa’li nodded and smiled. “I will name my payment. You will help Wyatt discover his destiny. He must know what lies in his heart if he is to fulfill that destiny. You, Chance Davenport—your past is tied to his. Your blood has mingled and been spilled. You, the white woman with the eyes of the wolf, will help him find his way.”

Chance nodded solemnly. She went to the wolf pup, picked it up and snuggled it against her face for a moment. Then retrieving the doll’s bottle she handed them to Tsa’li. “He needs a good home.”

Tsa’li took the pup and stroked the soft fur along its back. “He will have one.”

With a parting nod to Wyatt, he left the cave. Chance watched him leave then looked at Wyatt as he turned to face her. “Wyatt, did that really happen? It felt like you were with me…like we went back… Is it really possible?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “And we both learned a lot. And I do believe it. So do you.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said softly and took a seat by the fire. “The question is, where do we go from here?”

Wyatt sat down beside her. “Maybe it’s time we talked, really talked.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

Chapter Four

Jackson County
,
North Carolina

Billy Hawkes was sitting at the bar in Ralph’s when Greg Holling and a dozen of his men walked in. Billy looked at Ralph behind the bar. Ralph finished drawing a beer from the tap then moved over beside the register where an old shotgun was hidden.

Greg Holling looked around at the people in the bar and smirked. “Well, boys, looks like we can take our pick tonight. Which one of these red bastards should we skin first?”

His friends laughed and Greg opened his coat to display a handgun stuck in the top of his pants. People in the bar muttered uneasily among themselves, unsure whether to attempt to leave or just sit still and hope there would not be trouble.

But Greg Holling was there to make trouble. He pulled a long-bladed hunting knife from his coat and grabbed the waitress’s arm as she tried to skirt around him.

“Looks like this little honey’s ripe for pickin’, boys,” he laughed as he ran the tip of the blade down the side of the girl’s face, drawing blood.

The sight caused more than a few of the men in the bar to rise from their seats, including Billy Hawkes. “Let her go!” he demanded loudly, starting toward Greg.

“Who’s gonna make me?” Greg laughed. “You, Red Boy? Or should I call you Yellow? That is what you people are, isn’t it? Yellow?”

Billy took another step closer. “I said let her go!”

Behind the bar, Ralph pulled the old shotgun from beneath the counter. He hadn’t even raised it above bar level when the sound of a shot rang out. Ralph grunted as a bullet passed through his left shoulder and embedded in the wall behind him. A look of shock spread over his face as he stumbled back and fell, blood drenching the left side of his chest.

Greg Holling shoved the girl to the floor and leveled the gun at Billy. “You next, Billy Hero? Ready to meet that Great Spirit in the Sky?”

Billy’s eyes darted nervously from Greg to his men. He could hear nervous whispers behind him, people urging him to back down and not get himself shot. After a moment he dropped his eyes. Greg laughed and kicked out, catching Billy in the chest and sending him reeling backward into a table. Greg’s men fanned out, barring the exit as Greg walked over and picked up a bottle from behind the bar.

While everyone watched in apprehension he pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket, doused it with liquor then stuffed it down into the liquor bottle. With a smirk at the people watching, he set the bottle down on the bar, took a lighter from his shirt and lit the cloth.

The whispers and mutterings grew in volume as people started to get up from their seats. “Hold it right there.” Greg waved his gun as he walked toward the door. “First one to move dies.”

Everyone in the bar froze in place, watching in fear as Holling’s men backed out the door. Greg was the last to leave. Before he did he threw the burning bottle across the room. It hit the back wall and exploded. The alcohol was like gasoline, fueling the flames. Tongues of fire crept like tendrils along the floor and up the walls.

People began screaming and running for the door. Ralph was trampled by the mob as he tried to reach the fire and put it out. The first person through the door made it no farther than the steps before gunfire erupted. Blood spurted from the man’s legs in three different places before he fell.

That created more chaos. The bar was burning and there was no escape. Billy made his way over to Ralph and helped him up from the floor as men began knocking the glass out of the windows and climbing out. He was coughing and choking from the smoke by the time he made it to the window.

The sounds of guns being fired and the screams made it seem like a nightmare. Billy shoved Ralph out of the window then dove out behind him. As he hit the ground something pressed against his back. He looked around and saw one of Holling’s men, holding a hunting rifle.

“Looks like we get to have us a hunt tonight.” Greg Holling laughed as he sauntered over to where Billy lay. “Load him in the truck, boys.”

Billy fought against the men but there were too many. They put him in the back of Holling’s black pickup and piled in around him.

He saw people watching from the parking lot as the truck pulled onto the road. Soon their figures were just silhouettes against a backdrop of fire.

Deep Creek

Wyatt sat down by the fire and stared at the flames for a long time. Chance didn’t know what he was feeling and was afraid to be the first to speak but eventually the silence was too much. “Wyatt, do you remember killing that man on Clingman’s Dome?”

He turned and looked at her. “I think so, it’s all still kind of mixed up in my head. I didn’t remember anything about it for a long time. In fact, I had no idea I was involved in his death until recently. I went up to the Dome and camped out and I had a dream about it.”

“You dreamed about what happened?”

“Yeah.” He looked into the flames. “It was like I was there again.”

He got up and put a couple of branches on the fire. “I always knew there was something I should remember about that time but I just couldn’t get it to come into focus, you know? But when Tsa’li sent us back I saw it. Only when that man showed up it made me think about those men who killed my mother. This rage started boiling in my stomach and all of a sudden it was like I was ten feet tall and not afraid of anything.”

He sat down beside her again. “The visions of my mother’s death faded and I saw that man trying to rape you and something snapped inside me. I had to stop him from hurting you. I started toward him and saw him look at me like he was seeing some kind of monster. And I saw my hands wrap around his throat, stab into his neck. I felt myself kill him, Chance. Then I looked at you and you were scared half to death. The last thing I remember was reaching for you.”

Chance searched his face, putting her hand on his arm. “I was afraid, Wyatt. You didn’t look like you anymore. To me you looked like…like someone I didn’t know. Your eyes were…I don’t know, wild or something…like an animal, and you were covered with blood. I thought you were going to hurt me. But then you touched me and I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. You fell down on your knees and put your arms around my waist and buried your head against me and I could feel you shaking. I don’t know why, but I knew I had to protect you. It’s strange, isn’t it, how we both blocked that out? I guess that was the only way we could protect ourselves.”

“You realize that what you really did was protect a murderer?”

“No.” She shook her head. “That’s not true. You saved me from being raped and possibly killed, Wyatt. That’s not murder.”

He looked down for a moment. “Chance, I am a killer. That man wasn’t the first. There are other things I’ve remembered. Like the men who killed my mother.”

“I don’t know about that. I never really knew all the details about how your mother died.”

“She died at the Dome,” Wyatt said in a low voice. “We had gone to try and see the enchanted lake. Some men showed up. They raped and beat her and forced me to watch. She died in front of my eyes. Then they left us there. For a long time I thought I just stayed there with her body until my dad found us. But that’s not what happened. I followed those men and killed all but two of them.”

Chance thought about what Adeola had told her. “Wyatt, I have a hard time believing that a ten-year-old boy could have killed a grown man.”

Wyatt didn’t say anything and Chance leaned over to look at his face. “And even if you did kill them, it wouldn’t change anything.”

He looked surprised and Chance smiled. “Regardless of what happened, I know the person you are inside. You’re not a cold-blooded killer. You’re compassionate and caring and you wouldn’t indiscriminately take a life. You don’t enjoy inflicting pain. That’s not who you are.”

“I know of at least three women and a whole lot of men who would disagree with you,” he said harshly.

“What they think doesn’t matter. They don’t know you the way I do. Wyatt, I’ve known you almost all my life and I know you aren’t that kind of man.”

“You’re so wrong,” he said in a grim voice. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Yes, I do. I remember what happened graduation night. I know what you did to Mark.”

Wyatt’s eyes grew round and his face paled. Chance thought he was going to pass out when he started gasping like he couldn’t breathe.

“Wyatt!” She grabbed his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

He tore away from her and jumped up, smashing his hand into the rock wall of the cave. Chance jumped in alarm as he threw back his head and a sound like an animal’s roar emerged from his lips. When the sound finally died down, Wyatt put his hands over his face and sagged against the wall. Chance got up and hesitantly approached him. She reached out to touch him then withdrew her hand, afraid of what his reaction would be.

He didn’t move and neither did she. The only sound was the crackling of the fire and the sound of his harsh breathing. Chance didn’t know what to do but felt she had to do something. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Wyatt, please, come sit down.”

After a few moments he dropped his hands and looked at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That it was me that—that I killed that boy.”

Chance took his hand and pulled him. “Come on, sit down with me.”

He complied and they took a seat by the fire. “I didn’t know for sure it was you until tonight,” she said. “I remembered while I was in that trance or whatever it was.”

“Then how can you say I’m not a killer?” he asked in a voice filled with despair.

“Because you were saving me,” she said without hesitation. “If you hadn’t shown up he would have raped me. And I couldn’t defend myself. I was too dazed from hitting my head on the car. Just like the first time, you were rescuing me. If you want to lay blame on someone, lay it on me. If you hadn’t spent your life watching out for me then none of this would have happened.”

“What kind of man am I?” he asked in a strained whisper. “Do you think my parents knew I would turn out like this when I was born? They must have.”

“What makes you say that?” Chance was confused by his statement.

“My name,” he rasped harshly. “Why else would they name me that?”

“Wyatt?” she asked. “What’s wrong with Wyatt?”

“No.” He shook his head. “My other name—Une’ga-dihi.”

“Une’ga-dihi,” Chance repeated the name softly. “That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

“White-men killer.” Wyatt’s voice rose in volume angrily. “So, you tell me—did they know I would be this way? Could they have possibly known back then what kind of man I’d turn out to be?”

Chance wondered if she could adequately answer that question. Since she had arrived there reality had taken on a new perspective, a twist had developed in the plot of her life. She had been given knowledge that she honestly didn’t know how to believe or explain. But she did know that she had to help Wyatt. There was nothing else she could do.

“Wyatt, you say you remember the day your mother died?” she asked softly, changing the subject from his name.

“What does that have to do with anything? I already told you what I remembered.”

“Did you? Isn’t there something else? Think, Wyatt. After the men killed her what did you do?”

He frowned at her fiercely. “I threw myself across her and cried then I went after them.”

Chance nodded. “Yes, you went after them. But didn’t something happen before that?”

“No! I told you! She was dead and I was lying there with her and—”

His voice stopped suddenly and he looked at her in shock. “And I was begging for someone to help me.”

Raking his hands through his hair, he closed his eyes. “I heard something. The wind…no…not the wind…but like the wind. It was a voice. It was speaking to me. I looked around for the source of the voice but there was no one there. There was nothing—”

His eyes flew open and his words came faster and faster. “There was nothing but a mist. It rose up out of the ground and moved toward me, like it was alive. It came for me. I jumped up and backed away…afraid of the strange mist. But it grew bigger, and swirled all around me. Then I heard the voice again. Only this time I could understand. It asked me if I would take the help that was offered, if I dared to, and I didn’t know why but I said yes. The voice sounded like the boom of thunder in my mind. It said I was One and that I was the Warrior. That I should join and become the Champion of the People. I didn’t understand but the voice told me how. It said I had only to believe it. So I did. I made myself believe it with all my heart. The voice and the mist instantly vanished and I felt like I was in the middle of a tornado, spinning around and around. Suddenly something swelled up in my mind, like my head being filled with too much at once. When the feeling stopped I felt like a giant. Like there was something stronger than me inside of me and nothing could ever hurt me.”

He looked at Chance with astonishment on his face. “That’s when I went after the men.”

She nodded and took his hand. “Remember when we were kids and you would tell me your ‘Wolf Tales’?”

He smiled.  The Wolf Tales were something his father had started when Wyatt was a child.  As is the case with all children, Wyatt was curious about his family, and why they had such an odd family name.  No one else on the reservation had a name like Wolfe.  His father had explained that the name came from his own father who was Choctaw.  Wolfe meant ‘wolf’ in the Choctaw language.  They decided to call the stories the Wolf Tales.  No one else would ever equate that with their name but the two of them and that made it special.