Chapter Three
Ivy woke to the first rays of dawn warming her face. She stretched her arms above her head thinking she was home, until the pain in her stomach reminded her of the awful night she’d had. She bolted upright, heart beating rapidly, and scanned the area as best she could. The scene before her was blurry, and she squinted to try to make out the shapes.
“You are awake.”
He was still here, the man who had helped her yesterday. What was his name? She ran her hand down the messy hair and along her skirt in an effort to look presentable.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
She watched as his fuzzy image came closer. He knelt in front of her, but he was still too far away for her to make out his features.
“I am fine.”
“I have some water.” He took her hands and placed a cup within them.
“Thank you.” She took a sip and waited to see if her stomach would react to the cold liquid. Nothing, so she took another drink.
“Do you feel well enough to travel?” He was moving about the campsite, and she found it difficult to keep track of his form because it blended in with everything else she saw.
Ivy rubbed her sore eyes. The night before had been horrendous, and she wished for her sister Fern to be here with her now. The oldest of the three Montgomery girls knew her way around herbs and plants, and Ivy was certain she’d know what to give her to help with the poison she’d ingested.
“You will need to drink more tea,” he said and felt the heat from the fire as he stoked the glowing embers. She listened as he placed a pot over the coals.
“What tea?” she asked, searching her mind to recall the night before.
“Icaphe hu.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It is a remedy my people use to cure snake bites. I gave you some last night. Do you not remember?”
She shook her head.
He took the cup from her hands and dumped out the water before handing it back to her. This time the mug was warm, and whatever he’d heated over the fire had been inside the cup.
Ivy held the rim to her lips and blew inside the mug to cool the contents. She took a small sip. The tea had a bitter taste. She made a face.
“Drink all of it, and then you will be well.”
“It tastes awful.”
He chuckled.
Not wanting to be ill again and the poison gone from her body, Ivy decided to swallow the mixture in one gulp. She shivered from the horrible taste but was glad she didn’t have to endure it any longer.
“There were two,” he said.
“Two what?” She fidgeted with her skirt while he seemed to be packing up their things.
“Two men.”
“Here? With me?”
“Yes.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned forward. She couldn’t recollect if there had been or not. She only remembered the one who had taken her.
“One was white.”
Her head shot up. “You are saying I was taken by an Indian and a white man?”
“It seems so, yes.”
“Impossible.”
He grunted. “It is true.”
“Hogwash.”
“You cannot believe this why?”
“Because it doesn’t seem right.”
“What is right in your world may not be in someone else’s.”
She pondered what he’d said. There was evil in every kind, but Ivy would not allow herself to believe a white man had taken her.
“I think you’re wrong.”
“How can you believe so easily one of my kind took you but not one of your own?”
She was silent.
“Get up,” he snapped.
She stood and stepped away from him.
“Where do you live?”
“Man… Manchester.”
“You will need to ride with me.”
“If you just point me in the direction, I will make it on my own.” She no longer wished to be in his company and had the sudden urge to escape.
“No.”
“I will go without you.”
“I will take you,” he said, keeping his voice light.
“I am capable of finding my way home.” She wasn’t, but he’d never know the truth.
“I believe you could, but I cannot leave a woman alone to fend for herself. I will take you.”
Ivy wanted independence, but again she was being told what to do. Defiance placed the frown upon her face, and she stood taller. The stretch in her spine did little to ease the ache still in her stomach, but she refused to hunch forward.
“No.” He did not reply and so she continued, “Mr. —?”
“Hotah.”
“Hotah, I am a grown woman who can make it on my own. Now, if you’d kindly point me in the correct direction. I will be on my way.”
“What will you do after I point the right way?”
“I will go of course.”
“And what will you do when you cannot see what is ahead of you or what is around you?”
She did not want to hear the reality of what she had become. “I will make do.”
“How?”
She did not know! Damn it—she had no clue what she’d do, but more than anything in the world, Ivy wanted to be like everyone else. She wiped at her eyes to stop the tears from falling.
“You cannot see,” he said softly.
“I know this!” she yelled. The weight of where she was—who she was—came crashing down upon her, and she slumped forward. She was a nobody—a spinster living with her sisters. And the worst part—she’d die never knowing what it was like to be on her own.
He took her hand, and she didn’t have the courage to pull away from him as he led her to the horse. Strong hands encircled her waist, and he hoisted her up onto the saddle.