“Did you hear? My husband is going to search the agency for that savage, Wild Horse.” Gloria Doleman twirled her parasol as she stood talking to Josie Hart. “It was my idea,” she said proudly. “I told him that Indian was just tricky enough that he might be hiding right here with his own people.”
“Do you really think that’s possible?” Josie asked, enjoying the gossip.
Gloria glanced at Evy, who looked up from where she was digging in the sand with Rose. “I think it’s very possible.” She paused, noticing a rather alarmed look in Evy’s eyes. “You’ve seen Wild Horse, haven’t you, Evy?”
Evy watched the woman, her child’s inner senses telling her there was something bad about what Gloria was saying—something dangerous for Wild Horse. She remembered her mother telling her so many times that she must not tell she had seen the man, but sometimes it was very hard to keep the secret. Now she sensed it was very important. “No,” she answered.
Gloria frowned. “Oh, now, Evy, it isn’t nice to tell lies. Surely your father has taught you that.”
Evy stared in confusion. Was she being a bad girl? Her mother would never tell her to do something bad, so it must be all right to not tell about Wild Horse. “I’m not lying,” she answered. Her little heart pounded, and she could not keep the tears from coming to her eyes. She was afraid for her mother and for Wild Horse.
Gloria sniffed. “Then why are you crying, Evy?”
“Gloria, leave her alone,” Josie urged. “She’s just a child with a big imagination.”
Gloria smiled in a kind of sneer, looking back at Josie. “I don’t think she’s making it up. I think she and her mother both have seen Wild Horse, and for some reason they’re hiding the truth. I can’t imagine how they might have met him, or why they would not tell anyone, but I think I’m right, and Albert will prove me right when he finds Wild Horse at the agency. When they do, he’ll be arrested and sent to Florida, and his troublemaking days will be over.” She looked back down her nose at Evy. “Your friend, Wild Horse, is in a lot of trouble, Evy.”
She turned and walked off with Josie then, talking in a near-whisper. Evy noticed Josie looked surprised, and she was sure the two women were talking about her mother and Wild Horse. She got up from the sand and looked into the distance. Beyond the fort sat her parents’ cabin, and beyond that was the pond. Wild Horse was always at the pond. Maybe her mother was there right now herself. She decided she must go and warn them. Wild Horse should know soldiers were going to look for him and arrest him.
“I can’t play anymore,” she told Rose. “I’m going home.”
“You’re supposed to wait for your mommy to come and get you,” Rose warned her.
“I know the way.” She brushed herself off. “Tell your mommy my mommy came for me. She waved at me from over there by where you come into the fort. Bye!” She ran off, but decided she would not even stop at her house first. The important thing was to warn Wild Horse, and as far as she knew, he lived at the pond. Wild Horse had been good to her. He was so different, full of stories. He made her laugh. She liked her Indian friend, and she didn’t want the soldiers to catch him.
Margaret felt numb, realizing how close she had come to committing a terrible sin, yet not really regretting it. She would suffer her broken heart in silence, try to mend it by finding a way to get closer to Edward. Maybe someday she could tell him the truth. For today, she could barely face the truth herself. She managed to compose herself, changed her clothes, and after a fit of crying, retucked her hair and had come to get Evy. It was nearly dusk, and she brought a pie she had made yesterday. She needed an excuse for waiting so long to come for Evy, so she would tell Josie she spent the day catching up on some baking.
She should have come a long time ago, but it had taken time to overcome the trauma of what had happened at the pond, more time to soothe her eyes so that the swelling went down and no one could tell she had been crying. This had been the most unusual day of her life, and she wondered how long it would take for this sick feeling to leave her.
She noticed no children playing outside Lieutenant Hart’s quarters, and she supposed Josie had taken the girls inside because it was getting dark. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, and Josie Hart opened it. Margaret thought she looked at her strangely, with a note of disapproval. “Margaret! What brings you here so late?”
Margaret felt instant alarm. “I came to get Evy. I’m awfully sorry I’m late. I brought you a pie. I’ve been baking all day, and the time just got away from me.”
Josie frowned. “Evy isn’t with you?”
Margaret looked past her to see Rose sitting at the table. “No. You mean, she isn’t here?”
“Well…no. Rose told me you came for her. I was off talking with Gloria, and Rose said you came around the fort entrance and waved for Evy to come home.”
Margaret looked at Rose, fear gripping her. She handed Josie the pie. “Rose, why did you tell your mother that I came for Evy? I never came at all.”
Rose puckered her lips as though to cry, worried she might be in trouble. “Evy told me to say it. She said she wanted to go home and to tell Mommy you came for her.”
Margaret put a hand to her chest. “But she never came home!” She looked at Josie. “Where is my daughter?”
Josie set the pie aside. “I swear, Maggie, I thought she was with you! I’m terribly sorry—”
“Why did she suddenly leave like that and ask Rose to tell a lie?”
Josie turned away, trying to think. “I…I don’t know. Gloria was here, and she was talking about—” She faced Margaret. Were Gloria’s suspicions true? Perhaps she should not be too quick to judge. “About Wild Horse. How the soldiers were going to look for him at the agency and he would be arrested.”
Margaret turned away. “Dear God,” she muttered. Had Evy gone to try to warn Wild Horse? Where would she go? Her heart pounded harder at the answer to that question. The pond! What if she fell in while no one was there? “Where is your husband?” she asked Josie.
“Why, he’s at the agency with some of the other men, searching for Wild Horse. Gloria felt perhaps he was hiding there.”
Gloria! What a meddling, pompous woman! Her stupid remarks must have upset Evy, who probably thought she had to help Wild Horse! She turned to face Josie. “Please, Josie, go ask some of the men to form a search party! And have someone go to the agency and get my husband! He was going to stay the night there. Tell him Evy is missing! We have to find her! It’s getting dark! Tell some of the men to come to the pond a half mile or so behind our cabin. She might have gone there!”
“But why would she go there?”
“I don’t know! I…I left the house for a while, and sometimes I take Evy to that pond so she can swim and bathe there. She might have gone there looking for me.” Or for Wild Horse! If soldiers were looking for Wild Horse, Evy could get hurt! “Please, Josie, will you ask some of the men to start searching, and get Edward?”
“Of course! I’m so sorry, Maggie. I really thought you had come for her.”
Margaret did not reply. She ran out and headed out of the fort toward the pond, calling for Evy, her precious baby, perhaps the only child she would ever have. How could she live without her daughter? She never should have stayed away so long! Guilt overwhelmed and consumed her—guilt for having fond thoughts of another man besides Edward, guilt for leaving her daughter to meet that man secretly. Her beautiful, sweet child! Anything could happen in this wild land, especially in the dark. The woods between the cabin and the pond were thick. She could turn in the wrong direction. She could fall and get hurt. She could drown. And this was Indian Territory—outlaws often hid here. She had no fear that a Cheyenne would bring the child harm, but there were all other elements of men out here, scurvy whites who exploited the Indians with rotten whiskey whenever they could, traders from all parts of the country. She was such a pretty little girl, so innocent and trusting.
It seemed to take forever to get to the pond, and when she arrived there, she was breathless and sweating. The night had remained warm and muggy. “Evy!” she screamed. She shouted the name over and over, but there was no reply.
“You must go, Wild Horse,” old Wise Owl Woman told him in the Cheyenne tongue. “It is only a matter of time before the soldiers find you.”
Wild Horse came out from behind the inner wall of the old woman’s tipi. The Cheyenne had erected a second wall of skins within the outer layer, so that there was a space in between where Wild Horse could hide, yet to the soldiers it looked as though there was only one layer of skins. Wild Horse had hidden by staying with the old woman, who the soldiers thought lived alone. Whenever soldiers or other white men came around, he hid between the skins; but Wild Horse knew that this time was different. This time the soldiers were being extra cautious, checking every dwelling twice.
“It will be night soon,” Wise Owl Woman told him. “You can escape then. The soldiers will soon give up their search until morning, and for now they have something more important to look for.”
“More important? What is that?”
“They came for the white preacher. They told him his little daughter is missing. She cannot be found anywhere.”
Wild Horse’s eyes widened, and he grasped the old woman’s arms. “Evy? The little white girl with the golden hair?”
“Aye. That is the one. The search for her has gotten their attention. It is a good time for you to get away now.”
Wild Horse went to the tipi entrance and peeked out. Things had quietened, but there were still a few soldiers about. Far in the distance he could hear men shouting Evy’s name. What had happened to that precious child? It would kill Maggie if her daughter should come to harm. Where had she gone? If she had run away, then why? He realized the first place she might go was the pond, perhaps to find him. His heart pounded with dread at what could have happened to her. Maggie must surely be beside herself with fear and dread. “I cannot leave yet, not until the girl is found,” he told the old woman.
“But this is the best time! They will find her, Wild Horse! Do not concern yourself. Many men look for her.”
He pulled on a shirt. “But none have the skills to find her that I have.”
“It is too dangerous! Do not do it, Wild Horse! Get yourself away from here!”
He turned away, his heart crying out for the child…and for Maggie. For one brief moment he thought he might be able to possess her, but he should have known better than to try. She was too honorable to give herself to another man, but he knew she had so wanted to belong to him, just for a little while. Now it could be his fault that Evy was missing. He could not leave this way, without knowing what had happened to the child, without knowing Maggie had her little girl back in her arms.
He shook his head, leaving his shirt open as he pulled on a pair of buckskin pants and laced them. “I will look for her,” he told Wise Owl Woman. “Get my horse and supplies ready. When I have found the girl, I will come back for them and then I will go.” He picked up a rifle he had stolen from a settler weeks earlier. If he found Evy, she might need some kind of protection. He also picked up a blanket and slung it over his shoulder. “Do not worry about me, old woman. Just have my things ready for when I return.”
“It is a very unwise thing you do, Wild Horse.”
He thought about Maggie…the pond. “It will not be the only unwise thing I have done today.” He looked out again. For the moment there were no soldiers in sight, and he was out of the light of a distant campfire. He ducked outside and disappeared into the darkness.
Margaret felt numb and unreal. She shivered, even though the night was warm and she sat with a blanket wrapped around her head and shoulders. An oil lamp burned beside her, and all around the pond and through the trees and underbrush beyond it other lights danced, men searching and calling for Evy. Some even waded in the pond, which because of the late-summer drought, was no deeper in the center than a man’s chest. They, too, held up lights, as they dragged ropes and blankets and anything else they could find through the water, hoping that if Evy’s little body was under that water, they would catch it and get her out.
She couldn’t be dead! Sick dread overwhelmed Margaret until she thought she might vomit. She had cried until everything ached. Her throat hurt, her eyes burned, sharp pains jabbed at her chest. She watched Edward come toward her then. He was soaked to the skin from searching the pond himself, and his eyes showed the same desperation she felt herself. He sat down wearily beside her. “At least she hasn’t turned up in the pond,” he said, his voice dull with sorrow. “That gives us some hope. Maybe she didn’t come here at all, Maggie. If she got lost, a little child like that couldn’t get far. One of these men will find her.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t like the idea that some Cheyenne man might find her.”
“They would never hurt her,” Margaret answered.
“You don’t know that. You think you know them so well, but the soldiers think some of the Indian men could be fascinated by your and Evy’s light hair. You’re a grown woman with a husband, but Evy…she’s the kind of child the Cheyenne would love to have as a captive, to raise as their own and save for some warrior’s special wife.”
Margaret closed her eyes. “Honestly, Edward, do you really think these reservation Indians would be stupid enough to try to keep a little girl on the agency without anyone knowing about it? The days of making war and taking captives are over. The child is simply lost. Maybe it will be a Cheyenne who finds her. If it is, he or she will bring her to us and that will be the end of it.”
He sighed deeply. “I don’t know. Right now I just hope she’s still—” He could not finish the sentence, and he rubbed at his eyes. “My God, Maggie, why had you been coming here in the first place? I told you a long time ago to stay away from here. It’s too close to the agency, and it’s so hidden. Anything could have happened.”
Something did happen—something wonderful, beautiful, special. “I came here because this was our special place,” she answered aloud. “Here Evy and I could be ourselves.” She faced him. “We could laugh and play. Evy could splash naked in the water and chase butterflies and catch tadpoles and know the joy of life.” She looked away. “If anything has happened to Evy, I won’t let you blame me for it, Edward. You’re to blame, for forcing us to seek out a place where our spirits could be free and where it wasn’t a sin to smile.”
Edward rose and paced. “I don’t know you anymore.”
“You have never known me, Edward. You have never bothered trying to know me. You have never asked what makes me happy, what pleases me. All these years I have been trying to please you. But here, at the pond, I didn’t have to please you…only myself and Evy.”
Men shouted back and forth to each other but still no sign of Evy. “We’ll search all night if we have to,” a sergeant yelled to one of his men. “Men have been sent to search the agency again. God only knows what could happen to her if some damn, drunk Indian gets hold of her.”
“Dear God, help us,” Edward muttered.
“No Indian is going to hurt her,” Margaret repeated matter-of-faclty.
He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re so sure of that.”
“Yes, I am. The Cheyenne cherish children like they were little angels from heaven.” Her voice broke on the words, for Evy truly was that.
“I still don’t understand how you seem to know so much about the Cheyenne,” Edward told her, needing to talk about something besides Evy. “One would think you were in personal contact with one of them.”
Margaret kept quiet. Wild Horse’s presence must be kept a secret. She looked at her husband. “What matters is that I managed to get them to listen to you, didn’t I? I haven’t heard you thank me for that, Edward, or praise me for it. I wanted to help, and I did, but it doesn’t seem to make any difference to you.”
He knelt in front of her then. “It made a great deal of difference, Maggie. It was a hard pill to swallow, and I haven’t quite known how to tell you that I’m grateful. I am not accustomed to a woman taking charge like that, stepping in for the husband. I’ve always been taught that the woman and children are to be silent. They are to stay home and tend the home and learn their prayers and read the Bible diligently, and—”
“Edward.” Margaret interrupted him, leaning closer and studying his eyes in the lantern light. “Haven’t you ever wanted to do something fun? Haven’t you ever wanted to tell a joke and laugh, or to dance, or take off your clothes and feel the sun and wind against your body?”
He blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”
“Evy liked to laugh. She liked to be naked and to let the sun burn her skin and dance in the wind. She liked to learn about nature, and we did those things here. If she died here, then she died happy.” She choked in a sob. “My God, Edward, listen to what I am trying to tell you. Think what a joy Evy has been to our lives. Maybe God has put in us this fear of losing her just so you can understand what she means to you. You love her with so much passion that right now you want to weep for the want of her. We can share this sorrow and our love can grow stronger from it.”
He watched her for a very long time, then turned away, crouching on his knees and bending over. His shoulders shook, but his weeping was silent. She touched his shoulder. “Edward, let me hold you.”
He breathed in a deep sob. “I don’t…know how to…do this, Maggie.”
In all their years of marriage, it was the most touching thing he had ever said to her. She stood up, taking his arm. “Come here, my darling.”
He rose, and in the next moment he grasped her and held her tight against him, weeping, clinging to her in a way he never had before. “I can’t…live…without Evy,” he admitted.
Margaret could not reply. A wave of mixed emotions flooded over her. How ironic that possibly the only way to reach her husband had been to lose her child. It was not a fair price to pay, and she could not believe that God would ask it of her. He would bring Evy back to them.