| |
* * *
"What are you two doing up there?" Carrie shouted. "Hurry!" Bia and Fred sure were taking their time climbing down from the roof. Bessie neighed loudly. "Easy girl," Carrie said, stroking her muzzle.
The smell of the smoke was thick in the air, even here on the ground. She did not know how the Indians were able to create such controlled clouds of it, but she was glad for their knowledge.
The sky was a dark blue tonight rather than the black she was used to. Constellations sprinkled the sky, shining even more brightly than normal. Bia had said it was the spirits of her grandfathers shining down upon them, lighting the way. Carrie did not much care whether it was the spirits of Bia's grandfathers or the hand of God, she was just grateful that they had enough light by which to do their work.
"Come on!" Carrie screamed, her hands on her hips. What was taking them so long? Any second the sheriff and his men might be let loose. There was no true fire at hand, but smoke could kill as well as fire if they were not careful.
Finally, Bia and Fred began to descend. Bia climbed down first, her feet finding each rung of the ladder easily. She moved swiftly, never showing fear. Her black hair swung freely as she moved.
Fred came down right after. His face was pale, his eyes were dark. He looked as though he hadn't slept for a hundred nights. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his back. She could feel his muscles tense. His shoulders were tight. If only she had some oil and a little time, she might loosen them for him.
"You silly woman," Fred said, shaking his head. "What have you done? You have put yourself in danger."
His words were angry ones, but the smile on his lips was soft and kind, almost amused. He kissed her passionately, his lips hard and unwavering. It was as though he were trying to get inside her. His mouth moved against hers, demanding things of her she had never done.
She could taste the smoke on his lips and hoped Bia and the others had not done too much. She reached beneath his shirt, checking his bandages to make sure they were still in place. He pulled her hands back, kissing her neck. Her head fell back and her hands moved to his backside. He let out a soft groan.
She dug her fingers into him, her hands moving up to caress his neck. Fred's hands moved to her hair, curling it around his fingers. He was burrowing into it, his muscles hard. Carrie could hear his breath. Could feel his heart beat against hers.
"Are you all right?" she asked. His answer was another kiss.
"No time for that," said one of Bia's brothers. She could not remember his name, but she thought he was the eldest. He made an irritated sound in his throat, clearly wanting them to hurry, but Carrie didn't care. She did not want to let Fred go.
She was grateful that the three brothers had volunteered to ride with her tonight. Two of Bia's cousins were nearby. She suspected that Bia had talked them all into lending their aid. Their chief had been surprisingly cordial to her when Bia had told him of her trials with Abel and the others, regaling them with the details of how she and Fred had helped her escape.
Carrie thought God had brought the Indians to her. If they had arrived any later, there would have been nothing they could have done. The second she had heard that they had come for Bia, she had made her way to them to make her request.
Many of Bia's people looked upon Carrie with suspicion and held no interest in helping the white man escape death, but the chief was Bia's uncle. He held an affectionate place for her in his heart and had given his approval to aid Fred, though he would not force the aid of those who did not wish to help.
"Come," Bia's second brother said, his voice gruff. She looked at him and saw dark eyes to match his dark hair. His lips were a dark red that made Carrie shiver. He was the angriest looking of her three brothers.
Fred looked at Carrie. "You can't go with me. It isn't safe."
Carrie cocked her head to one side. "You should know me better than that by now." She got up on Bessie's back and waited. Fred sighed, shook his head, and jumped on with her. She knew he would argue with her over it later, but now was not the time. Even he could see that.
"Move now," Bia's eldest brother ordered. "The white men who were inside are now." She looked where he was and saw one of the cousins signaling to him.
Carrie's heart thumped in her chest. It moved so hard and so fast that it almost cracked her rib cage.
"Too much smoke," the Indian said. "Could not let them die. The spirits would be uneasy. Now move."
Carrie nodded her understanding. She'd had no wish for anyone to die, either, and was glad they had let the sheriff and his men out. The brothers took off, Bia jumping onto the back of one of their horses before they could get away. Her long black hair flowed out freely behind her as she rode on.
Fred ushered Bessie after them. The horse was happy to get away from the sheriff's station. If Carrie hadn't known better, she would have sworn that Bessie had a sense about her. Some people believed that about animals, she knew. That they could sense their owners’ fears, their pain. Carrie made a promise to herself that she would give Bessie a very large carrot the moment she came across one, as a special thank you for her help tonight.
Fred's breath was labored, but he did not wobble in his seat. His back was strong. His head sat straight upon his shoulders. She knew these were good signs. She had feared that his wounds might be re-injured during the escape, but so far things seemed well.
Carrie wrapped her arms around Fred's waist and buried her head against his back. The smell of pine needles was still with him, though it had faded some. The scent of eucalyptus was stronger now. She could smell the smoke he'd come through to make his escape. It mingled with the eucalyptus, making Carrie sneeze.
She laid her head back against him and listened to his heart beat. It was fast, but not dangerous. It beat almost in sync with the sound of Bessie's hooves. She felt his muscles pulsating in his back. Felt the heat of him as they fled together. His back grew damp with perspiration, but Carrie would not let him away from her. She was afraid that if she lost him again, she might never get him back.
They had gone no more than ten yards or so when Carrie heard a bell sound. She looked behind her shoulder and was shocked to see Judge Foster following them on his horse. Sheriff Hardy was close at hand.
"Don't let him get away!" Judge Foster shouted. His voice was almost lost in the wind. The Indian cousins who had been holding the door to the sheriff's station shut ran up behind them on their horses. There were two of them, both in deerskin tunics, bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. The judge looked at them sideways, his brow furrowed.
When had they discovered Fred's escape? It had not taken as long as she had hoped. Judge Foster had not been inside the building when the Indians had barred the doors. She had seen him ride up on his horse just as the smoke began. He must have caught sight of Fred as he'd climbed down the roof.
"To the forest!" Bia cried, turning toward them. "We will be safe there!"
Bia's brother hurried his horse onward. A bullet whizzed past Carrie's ear, just missing her. A second bullet flew past, narrowly missing Fred's back. Carrie gave a cry.
Sheriff Hardy's voice sounded loudly behind them. "What are you doing? You'll hit the women!"
Judge Foster did not care, though. He took aim and fired a third time. This time, the bullet struck dirt. Carrie sighed with relief as she bounced upon Bessie's back.
"Stop! Thief! Murderer!"
Carrie dared a quick glance behind her and saw Judge Foster, his eyes filled with tears of hatred and grief. One of Bessie's cousins drew his bow, aiming it at the judge. He shot the arrow at him. It grazed his cheek, leaving a shallow red mark.
Bia's cousins were nearly as close to her as her brothers. They each took an arrow and loaded it into their bow, their horses steering themselves. Or perhaps the Indians were using their legs to steer, she could not tell.
Judge Foster aimed his gun at them and fired. The men never even flinched. The bullet sailed straight between them, never even coming close to hitting either man.
Carrie's breath caught in her throat. One of the Indians was about to shoot. The bow looked as though it would hit Judge Foster square in the chest.
"Don't kill him!" Carrie shouted. She could not help herself. Despite what he'd done to Fred, she did not despise the man. He was acting out of grief. His whole life since the death of his wife had been spent in grief. It was no wonder he had grown so cold.
The Indian who'd been about to fire looked at her. He dropped his bow a half an inch and the arrow hit the ground in front of the judge's horse instead. It made the horse jump. It reared back on his hind legs. Judge Foster was thrown from it. She flinched as he hit the ground, but she could see him still moving. Sheriff Hardy stopped to help him. The Indian cousins rode one.
Carrie blinked. The forest was just ahead of them. They were safe.
* * *
