Around the River's Bend (33 page)

Sion turned with surprise. “I don't know. I never thought of it like that. I know God has to come first, but after God a man should love his wife with all of his heart.”

“Even more than children, do you think?”

“I think so. More than anything. It's hard to divide love like that.”

Fox was quiet, and the two men listened as Hawk and Sequatchie spoke of their plans for the next day from across the fire.

After a time Sion said, “I found out something about myself.”

“What's that?”

“I love Sabrina.”

“You never told her that?”

“How could I do that, Fox? I'm her servant. She's a woman of property.”

“That wouldn't matter if she cared for you.”

“I think you're right.” Sion dropped his head down on his arms, which were folded across his knees. “I wish I had told her,” he whispered.

“You'll have a chance,” Fox said. “Let's pray again. I've been praying in my heart all the time, but I need to hear a pray-er's voice.”

Fox prayed a short but fervent prayer, and then Sion prayed also. He had difficulty finding the words he wanted to say, but he cried out to God hoarsely, “Lord, I ask you to preserve their lives, keep them safe, lead us to them.”

Others in the party became aware of what the two men were doing and soon all of the men were praying.

Finally, when the prayers died down, Hawk turned to his friend and said, “Sequatchie, I've never seen anything like that.”

“These are praying men. Men of God. God's going to honor our prayers, friend.”

****

They rose before dawn, ate a cold breakfast of meat left over from the night before, drank deeply from the stream, and then followed Sequatchie as he led them out again.

They traveled hard, and once Seth Donovan dropped back to say to Sion, “They're trying to lose our trail. Have you noticed how they've led us through creek beds?”

“Yes. They're clever.”

“Not as clever as Sequatchie.”

Sion found he put great faith in Sequatchie. The old Indian said little, and he looked like he was tired, but he sniffed out the trail as a hound would sniff out a deer or any other animal he was pursuing. Each time the trail disappeared into a creek, he made the whole party stop, and he traveled both sides of the creek until he figured out where they had come out.

“I don't see how he does it,” Sion said in despair.

“It's something that's born in a man. You can learn a little tracking,” Hawk answered as he joined the conversation, “but the good ones have a gift.”

It was late afternoon that day when Sequatchie suddenly brought the party to a halt. They all hurried forward, and Sequatchie shook his head. “They have split up. Some went this way and some that.”

“Can you tell which party the women are with?”

“No, the trail's too faint.”

“We'll have to divide up. We can't take any chances on missing the right party,” Hawk said. There was no uncertainty in his voice, and he looked over the group and said, “Andrew, you and Seth go with me. Fox, you, Sion, and Joshua go with Sequatchie. Just remember that we'll be outnumbered. I make out there's at least ten of them.”

Sion knew it had to be done. He had counted on a full party to battle against the Indians, but now there was no hope of that.

Fox must have read his thoughts. “Don't worry,” he said. “We'll find them, and we'll come on them by surprise.”

The two groups went their separate ways, with Hawk leading his party.

Sequatchie looked at the faces of the men in his party. “Fox, you must help me track. I'm getting tired.”

Fox immediately joined Sequatchie. The party moved forward, and when they crossed the stream it was Fox who ran quickly to his left. He returned after half an hour and went the other way. This time he was back in ten minutes. “They came out down this way.”

They pressed the trail all day and finally, not long before sunset, Sequatchie called the men together. “Look.”

The men gathered around to look at the definite footprint in the sandy soil.

“You see how fresh it is?” said Sequatchie, who could read a trail as a scholar could read a book. “You see the edges are not crumbled in yet. They're not more than an hour ahead. Maybe even less.”

“What'll we do?” Sion asked.

“Someone must go locate them, and then we must creep in after darkness. We can't wait until dawn. We have to catch them by surprise. Their party is smaller than it was before, of course, but we don't know how many. I think at least five.”

“Those aren't long odds,” Josh said.

“I know. Fox, you must go,” said his uncle. “But remember, if they see you, it's all up with us. You must go like the fox you were named after. Be as still as a mouse with your eyes like the eagle's.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Fox said. He turned and disappeared at once, his eyes down on the ground.

“He is a good man,” Sequatchie said. “I'm very proud of Fox. Everyone check your weapons. Fox will come back soon, and then we must creep in on them. Not everyone is as quiet as Fox, but this time we must be.”

———

“He's coming,” Sequatchie said, and instantly the men all got to their feet. They had been tensely listening but had heard nothing until Sequatchie spoke.

Now Sion looked and saw nothing in the darkness, but finally he heard a voice say, “I'm here.” Fox's dark form finally appeared only a few feet away. There was practically no moon overhead and only the light of a few stars broke the darkness.

“They're about a half a mile from here.”

“How can we approach them, Nephew?” Sequatchie asked, and everyone noticed that Sequatchie had turned the command of the small force over to Fox.

“Most of them are drunk.”

“Did you see Sabrina and Hannah?”

“Yes. They're there, and they're safe. I heard them speak to each other.”

A rain of pure joy opened up in Sion. “Thank God!” he breathed.

“Yes,” Fox said. “Thank God, indeed. We cannot wait until morning.”

“How will we attack them, Nephew?”

“I listened to their conversation long enough to learn they have only one scout out. I think there are five of them at the camp. We will surprise the scout, and I will take him silently. As soon as he is dead, we'll all rush in.”

Sequatchie said, “They may try to kill the women if we give them time, so we must be swift. Swifter than the striking snake.”

“Just get me close enough,” Sion said. “That's all I ask.”

“Battle is a hard thing, but we must save our people,” Sequatchie said. “Fox, is it time?”

“It is time,” Fox said. “Stay close behind me.”

****

Fire Cloud had been angry. He had split his forces to divide and confuse his pursuers, but he still somehow knew that the enemy was closing in on him. Bitterly he wished he had kept his whole band together so they could ambush those who came. They would have had a much better chance. Now he saw the folly of letting his men have whiskey. They were so drunk they could barely stand and would have been completely unconscious if he had not finally taken the whiskey away from them. Now the whiskey was in his own bag, and a murderous anger was boiling over in him.

His eyes fell on the two women, and he strode over to where they were seated on the ground. He grabbed Sabrina by the hair and twisted her head up. “I ought to take your scalp—as I was paid to do!” Fire Cloud began to curse her. He slapped her with his free hand, and when she looked back at him defiantly, this angered him even more. “You are proud! You won't be for long!” He grabbed her coat and ripped it as he pulled at it. “I'll have you now! I'll make a squaw out of you! You not be proud then!”

———

Sabrina knew there was no escaping this man, and she prayed a formless, wordless supplication, knowing that her life was in her Lord's hands. But still she was shocked that she knew so little fear.

Fire Cloud gave her hair another jerk as he threw her down and pulled at her clothing. Sabrina was fighting him off as well as she could when suddenly a shot broke the stillness of the night. Instantly Fire Cloud fell onto Sabrina with a grunt. He lay on her inertly for a moment before Sabrina realized he had been shot. She struggled to shove his body off, and by the light of the fire she saw the other Indians scrambling to their feet. Several shots rang out, and she saw two of the Indians fall at once and one run blindly into the darkness. Still more shots rang out, and a voice cried out in English.

Sabrina scrambled to huddle beside Hannah, trying to stay out of the path of the gunfire.

“They've come for us!” Hannah cried in a glad voice. “Look, there they are!”

Sabrina could see little, for her eyes were filled with tears, but then a man was before her, and she felt his hands take hers, and he lifted her to her feet. Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself enfolded in his arms. “Sion!”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“I have to tell you, Sabrina. When I thought I'd lost you, it was as if the sun went out.”

Sabrina was trembling. Now that she was safe, the weakness she had kept at bay since she had been captured was suddenly overwhelming her. She knew she would fall if he let go of her.

“I prayed you'd come,” she whispered.

He kissed her cheek and then held her tightly. “God is good,” he whispered.

“Yes, He is.”

Hannah heard all of this, and then suddenly Fox was there sitting beside her.

He did not touch her for a moment, and then he traced the tears running down her face with a shaky hand. “You're all right,” he said quietly. She moved closer and put her arms around him. She kissed him, and when he lifted his head, he said, “I need you, Hannah.”

Hannah said as simply as she had ever spoken in her life, “And I need you, Fox.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

A Wedding and a Proposal

Andy Jackson was a man possessed of a violent temper. On most occasions he was able to keep it under control, for he knew the dangers of uncontrolled anger. Now, however, as he stood before Caleb Files on the street, the rage that had been just beneath the surface boiled over. He took a step toward Files, who suddenly turned pale and held up his hand as if to stop Jackson physically.

“You're a scoundrel, Files!” Jackson continued to reel off a string of derogatory names until finally, glaring at the smaller man, he declared, “I may not be able to prove it in court, but I know you're behind that Indian raid on my client!”

“I had nothing to do with it!”

“Shut your foul mouth!” Jackson said. “Your henchman, Jack Fry, did the dirty work, but everybody in the territory knows you give him his orders.”

“I tell you, Jackson, I know nothing about it! Fry had a grudge against the Fairfax woman's servant. They had trouble earlier. You know that.”

“The man—that Kenyon—wasn't convinced. It was the woman who was carried off. One of the Indians didn't die. With a little persuasion he told the whole story. They were supposed to kill the woman. That was Fry's order, and that's why Fry himself was killed. That Cherokee he hired—Fire Cloud—decided to keep the two women alive, and when Fry tried to kill them, he got an ax in his brain. The world won't miss him much. But as for you, I've had enough of you!” Jackson slapped Files across the face. “There! I'll let you choose weapons. Knives. Guns. Whatever you want.”

“I won't fight you, Jackson.”

“You won't! You sniveling coward! I'm gonna get my whip out of my buggy and use it on you!”

A crowd had gathered around the two men, hugely enjoying the scene. Files was not a popular man, and Andrew Jackson always provided good drama. One of the men in the back said, “He's going to cut Files to pieces with that whip. I wish my brother were here to see this.”

Jackson glared at Files, his face pale with anger. “You're lower than a snake's belly. I'm going to cut you into ribbons, and when you get over it, I'm going to hunt you up and do it again. So either fight or get out of Tennessee Country!”

Files swallowed hard, and his face worked. Every man in the crowd saw that his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

Suddenly Files turned and ran down the street, and a great roar went up from the crowd. Jackson relaxed then. He laughed, and his eyes sparkled. “Well, folks, I rid you of at least one scoundrel.”

One of the spectators said, “Come along, Andy. Let's have that poker game now. I intend to clean you out.”

“Nope. I've got to go see a lady. I've got some good news for her!”

****

Hawk and Elizabeth sat on the front porch enjoying the warm March afternoon, sipping their hot tea. Hawk reached over and picked up Elizabeth's hand with his free one and said, “You know, I don't think I'll mind being a grandfather, but I'm sure going to hate being married to a grandma.”

Elizabeth simply laughed at him. “Don't step on your beard, Grandpa.”

“Well, we've been the finest-looking couple in the whole Territory South of the River Ohio. Now we'll be the finest-looking grandparents.”

“You're pretty sure about all of this? Fox hasn't even asked for Hannah's hand in marriage yet.”

“It's going to happen any day now.”

“Yes, I imagine you're right. She and Fox are so in love. Isn't it sweet?”

“I remember it was pretty sweet when I was courting you.”

“You! You weren't much of a courting man. I had to do most of the courting.”

“But I made up for it. I've been studying up. I've been working on a poem for you. When I get it finished, I'm going to read it to you. Why, you'll cry your eyes out over it, it's so sweet.”

“I don't think I'll hold my breath waiting for you to write a poem,” Elizabeth said as Fox rode up on his fine bay stallion. He stepped out of the saddle and tied the horse up.