14

She went where?” William didn’t usually raise his voice to anyone, but he was certain he couldn’t have heard right.

Juanita gave a quick glance at Pepita before answering. “Miss Hannah go with Night Bear to his people. They are sick and Night Bear’s father sent him to get help.”

“Of all the stupid, ridiculous ideas! It wasn’t enough she marched out to meet the Comanche on horseback—now she’s gone to visit them in their camp.” He shook his head and slapped his hat against his aching leg.

William motioned to Berto and handed him the reins to his horse. “He’s played out. Would you saddle up the sorrel for me?” William pulled his saddlebags from the horse.

Berto nodded and took off for the barn. William looked at Tyler. “I’m going after her.”

“You want us to come with you?” Tyler asked. “My men and I could—”

Holding up his hand, William shook his head. “No. We can’t go storming into a Comanche village and not expect things to go horribly wrong. If I show up there with a bunch of soldiers, they aren’t going to take it as a friendly move.”

“Going alone isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, either. What if another band of Comanche or Kiowa come your way?”

“That’s why I’m taking the sorrel. He’s the fastest horse we have. He can outrun any Indian mount.” William looked back to Juanita. “Would you pack me some supplies? I’ll head out as soon as they’re ready.”

Juanita nodded and hurried with Pepita into the house.

“I should have known she’d do something like this,” William said.

“You couldn’t know that Night Bear would show up or that his people were going to get sick. I’m surprised they would even seek help from a white woman. They must be sufferin’ something fierce.”

“I’m sure they are.” William gazed off to the north. “Miss Dandridge is going to do a bit of suffering herself. Living with the Numunuu won’t be an easy thing. They are a nomadic people and they aren’t exactly set up for comfort.”

Tyler laughed. “Sounds like you’re worried—maybe you have feelings for Miss Dandridge.”

Narrowing his eyes, William scowled. “You’re the Romeo, not me.”

Tyler studied him for a moment. “Not this time. You look a mite lovesick, if you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not.” William wasn’t about to reveal how close Tyler was to guessing his confused feelings. “She has a brother and sister to care for. Their pa is missing. Her place is here. Her responsibilities and loyalties should be here—not risking her life to smallpox.”

“How do you plan to find her?” Tyler asked, sobering.

“I’ll track them. I’ve been able to hone my skills in the war.”

“Mr. Barnett!” Andy came running from around the back of the house. “Mr. Barnett, Juanita said you were going to find Hannah. Can I come with you? Please?”

His breathless pleadings touched William. “I’m sorry, Andy. I need to travel fast. Besides, I need you to stay here and take care of Marty and your guests. You’re the man of the house now. Can you help me with this?”

Andy seemed to actually grow taller. He looked at William and then Tyler. “I can take care of them.”

“Tyler will be here if you need his help.”

“That’s right,” Tyler said. “You just let me know what I can do.”

Andy nodded then frowned. “Will the Indians hurt Hannah?”

William didn’t want to lie to the boy, but neither did he want to frighten him. “Well, I don’t figure they sent Night Bear here to hurt her. Juanita said the Comanche are sick and that the chief asked for Miss . . . for Hannah to come tend them. So I figure she’s all right.”

“Then why are you going after her?” he asked, his eyes never leaving William’s face.

“Because she will probably need help.”

Andy considered this for a moment. “I reckon she will.”

William opened his saddlebags when he saw Juanita approaching with a handful of items. Pepita followed with a bulging flour sack.

“I put in more herbs for Miss Hannah. I put in tortillas and meat for you.”

He took the cloth-wrapped food and stuffed it into one side, then put the herbs in the other. Pepita handed him the flour sack.

“We tore up old sheets to make cloths for washing and bandaging,” Juanita explained. “We put in vinegar, too. Miss Hannah took some, but she will probably want more. It help with the itching and wounds.”

“Thank you. I’m sure Miss Dandridge will be grateful for these.”

Just then Berto returned with the sorrel. “He’s ready.”

William hung the flour sack around the horn, then threw the bags on behind the saddle. Grabbing the reins from Berto, William hoisted himself up into the saddle, ignoring the pain that shot through his thigh. There wasn’t time to favor his injury, and William wasn’t about to let on that he was hurting.

“Here, take this,” Tyler said, tossing up a canteen. “It’s full. I filled it in that stream we crossed about a mile back.”

Taking the canteen in hand, William gave Tyler a nod of thanks. “I’ll track out to the north. Since Juanita said they didn’t expect to reach the village until late in the night I have a feeling I know where they’ve gone.”

“Tierra del Diablo?” Berto asked.

“That’s my guess. A lot of good hiding places are in the Land of the Devil, and it’s one of the Comanches’ favorite places because the buffalo like to wander through there from time to time.”

“How long do you think you’ll be?” Tyler asked. “Should we come lookin’ for you if you aren’t back tomorrow?”

“No. Like I said, if you show up there, the warriors may see it as an aggressive act. If they will allow me to enter and help, I’ll do what I can before I return with Miss Dandridge. Andy, take good care of your little sister.”

“I will, I promise.”

With a nudge of his heels, William moved the sorrel out across the yard. His anger faded in light of his growing concern. What in the world had Hannah been thinking to go off to a Comanche village on her own? No doubt she felt sorry for the Numunuu. But even if that was the case, she could do very little in the face of smallpox. And what if she took sick? Had she had the cowpox vaccine? The army had seen to it that he had. He’d suffered through with a mild case of fever and blistering, but nothing like the full force of the disease.

William forced himself to focus on tracking. At the top of the hill he dismounted and studied the ground, looking for signs.

The trail was easy to pick up. The ground had been fairly soft when they’d gone out, but since there’d been no other rain, the tracks remained. William remounted and headed out. At this rate he would have an easy time of following the two horses. One shod. One shoeless.

His mind raced with thoughts of what he’d say and do when he found Hannah. He didn’t want to cause problems with the Comanche. If they were suffering a small pox epidemic that would be trouble enough. Even so, it was no place for a gentle-born woman like Hannah Dandridge, and he intended to rebuke her for this nonsense. William ran a hand through his hair. Good grief, the woman needed a keeper. Her life and responsibilities were just as he’d said—there on the ranch looking after her brother and sister.

Hannah’s image filled his mind. China doll features with hair the color of rich earth. Blue eyes surrounded by sooty black lashes. And her rose-colored lips.

William kicked the horse harder than he’d intended, as if he could throw off the disturbing thoughts by pushing the animal to run.

Hannah Dandridge was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Juanita said she learned quickly and showed limitless endurance. Not only this, but Hannah had formed a friendship with Juanita, disregarding her status or race.

“Miss Hannah she no complain,” Juanita had told him one night after dinner. “Her papa is hard to live with, but she good to him. I see her heart hurting when he is in his anger, but she never say anything bad to me. She love him very much.”

“She sure doesn’t have any problem speaking her mind with me,” William muttered. Except of late.

He frowned and slowed his horse lest he lose the trail. Hannah had been guarded with him in their last encounters. Before, she had been feisty and strong willed, but the last time he’d talked to her had been different. She’d held herself aloof and her comments were stilted and to the point. What had caused the change? More troubling still: Why did it bother him so much?

By the time darkness washed over the plains, William felt confident that Tierra del Diablo was the right destination. He knew there would be no way to discern the trail without light. Navigating the narrow sloping path wouldn’t be easy, yet he hesitated to dismount. By the time he reached a fork in the trail, William knew he’d have to do something.

He brought the horse to a halt and listened. He could hear the ripple of water—nothing too big—just a small creek most likely. He knew further beyond the rocks there was a river and most likely the camp would be somewhere in that vicinity. He just needed to figure out which way to go.

Hannah moved from tepee to tepee. Many of the Numunuu had already died—mostly those who were older or very young, and therefore less capable of fighting the disease. The younger warriors were holding up better, as were some of their women. Even so, a band that had once been over seventy in number was now only thirty or so. Her presence in their camp brought surprise and scowls at first, but as the people grew progressively sicker, Hannah’s ministerings were welcomed. She bathed the sick over and over using what vinegar she had. Diluting it with more water than she would have normally used had allowed it to go further, but now that meager supply was gone. So, too, the willow bark, herbs, and her food.

The same two men who had helped her the night of her arrival seemed somehow immune to the disease. Red Dog and Running Buffalo spoke very little English, but through a series of hand gestures, Hannah was able to make her requests known. It puzzled her as to why they’d not taken the illness. Perhaps they had taken the vaccine at some point or perhaps they had some sort of natural immunity. Either way, she was grateful for their help, especially since they were doing women’s work. Night Bear had explained the situation to her and in turn, Hannah instructed him to let the men know that in doing these tasks they would be heroes—saviors of a sort to their people. The men seemed to accept this, although their apprehension of Hannah was still apparent.

Smallpox symptoms took anywhere from one to two weeks to appear after exposure. The entire camp had apparently received their original exposure a couple of weeks earlier, because most were in the stage of the illness where blisters were forming. Once these filled with fluid and then pus, Hannah knew it could take weeks for the sores to all scab and fall off. Until then, the Numunuu would be contagious.

Hannah tried to figure out what she should do about getting word back to her family. She obviously couldn’t leave to do it herself. She had no idea of how to get back to the ranch. On the journey with Night Bear, Hannah had tried to keep landmarks in her mind, but the last part of the journey had been dark and she couldn’t really trust that her memory would serve her all that well. She’d been exhausted when they’d arrived in camp, and that had only increased by immediately going to work to help the sick. She had managed a brief nap that afternoon, but otherwise she was just forcing herself to stay awake through the evening.

He Who Walks in Darkness was in the pustule stage of the pox and was running a fever again. His body was working to fight the infection, but Hannah wasn’t at all sure he would live. His wife, Little Bird, was almost certain to die. She showed no signs of fighting the disease, and every time Hannah checked on her, the woman seemed to be losing ground. Night Bear, although ill, seemed to have a very mild case. He was weak and had begun developing blisters, but they were few and smaller. Hannah prayed that he might have an easier time of it.

Coming to the chief’s tepee, Hannah entered with a basin of warm water and a towel. She moved first to check on Night Bear. He was sleeping soundly on his pallet. The fire had recently been stoked due to Hannah’s insistence that the warmth of the enclosure be maintained. Red Dog and Running Buffalo kept the fuel and water supplies stocked. They also managed to bring in food. At first Hannah refused. She had some of her own supplies left and that was enough to satisfy her needs. However, she’d run out of food earlier in the day, having eaten the last of her tortillas.

“Have many died?” He Who Walks in Darkness asked.

Hannah knelt beside the chief. “Yes. Over half the people are dead. Many of the others are sick and may well die.”

He closed his eyes and grimaced. Hannah washed him with the warm water and wondered at the Comanche’s spiritual convictions. Did they believe in God? Or did they worship creation? She’d heard that some tribes honored a long list of spirits.

“Might I ask you a question?”

The chief opened his eyes. “Haa.”

Hannah smiled. “I wonder if you would tell me about your beliefs in God.”

“God? The white man’s God?”

She shrugged. “Or any other that you esteem.”

“I’ve no time for gods. I am a warrior—my life is war. We are . . . strong.”

“But what of this? What of dying? Do you believe in life after death?”

He Who Walks in Darkness seemed to consider her question. “There is a life after death, but it is no good to die like an old woman. My men should die in battle—I should die in battle.”

“I believe in Jesus,” Hannah told him while continuing to bathe his sores. “I believe that God—the one true God—sent His Son, Jesus, to save us from our sins.”

“What are sins?”

Hannah was surprised that he would hold any interest at all in what she had to say. She tried to pretend it was a normal question. “Sins are wrongdoings. Things that we do that go against what God wants us to do. Like stealing or killing. Those are sins.”

“Those are my ways,” the sick man replied.

She offered him a slight smile. “Unfortunately, we all have sins. We are sinful people. We do whatever pleases us rather than working to please God.”

“The spirits look for strength in a man. Not white man’s . . .” He seemed to struggle for the right word. “White man’s . . . religion.”

Pausing in her work, Hannah tried to think of how she could share her heart. The language barrier was a bit of a problem, but not as great as it might have been. She thought of how she might speak to Marty or Andy—not in a way to belittle them, but rather to make the concept simple.

“Do you know what the Bible is?” she asked.

“White man’s God book.”

“Yes. It is a collection of God’s wisdom and teachings to us. The Bible shows us who God is and how He wants us to live.” When He Who Walks in Darkness said nothing, Hannah continued.

“The Bible says we have all sinned. We’ve all done things that go against what God would like for us to do. We hurt each other and do things that cause great pain. That isn’t what God wants. He wants us to love each other, because He loves us.” She picked up the towel and began to wash him once again. “God says that payment for sin is death.”

“Every man will die,” He Who Walks in Darkness countered weakly.

“Yes, in the body,” she agreed, “but there is also the death of the spirit. Without being clean from our wrongdoing, we cannot please God. We cannot enter heaven. I don’t want your people to die without knowing God’s Son, Jesus. Jesus came to earth to save us from our sins. He died a horrible death as a sacrifice for our sin. If we believe in Him and ask Him to be Lord of our life, then we can be set free from the penalty for our sins.”

“White man’s stories.”

She looked at the chief and shook her head. “No, it’s so much more. I am here because I felt God wanted me to help you. I came to care for you and your people, as if I were caring for Jesus—my Lord. I know that must seem strange to you, but I speak the truth. I told you earlier that this disease is very bad. I told you I would not lie to you. I’m not lying now.”

“The white man has his ways. The Numunuu have their ways. The white man’s God would not want the Numunuu, just as the white man does not want us. So we will fight. We will make war on your people until we are gone from this place.”

Hannah felt a sadness overwhelm her. Perhaps if she spoke the Numunuu language, then she would be able to convince this very sick man that God truly did love him—that the color of his skin was not important to God.

Seeing that the chief was exhausted from their conversation, Hannah finished his care and got up to go. “I will pray for your people. I will pray to my God for you, He Who Walks in Darkness. I will pray that you will find a way to walk in the light.”

Leaving him, Hannah went to the small tepee Night Bear had shown her to the night before. The place had belonged to two older women whose husbands died early in the epidemic. The women also died shortly before Hannah had come to stay with the Comanche.

She slipped off her boots and took her place on a pallet she’d made earlier. Fearful of disease, she had boiled the blankets given to her that morning. It had taken all day to dry in the humid air, but tonight they felt useable. Hannah wrapped up in the blankets and had just drifted off for a few minutes of sleep when she heard a commotion outside. Straining to hear what the problem might be, she was startled to recognize William Barnett’s voice.

Hannah jumped to her feet and ran out of the tepee in her stockings. She saw Red Dog confronting a man just beyond the fire.

“Mr. Barnett?” she asked.

“It’s me,” he replied. “I’m trying to convince this man that I’m no threat to him.”

She drew closer and could see that Red Dog had a knife drawn. She put out her hand and touched the warrior’s forearm. Shaking her head, she smiled. “Mr. Barnett is a friend.” Red Dog continued to eye Barnett suspiciously, but he lowered the knife. Hannah was glad that William could speak the language. “Would you please tell him that you are a friend and you’ve come to help?”

“I’ve been trying to tell him that,” William all but growled.

Red Dog looked to her and Hannah reached out and took hold of William’s hand. Patting the top of it while smiling, she repeated the word friend while William gave him the Numunuu word.

“Haits. E-haitsma.”

This seemed to appease Red Dog. He grunted several words to William before leaving them. Hannah waited for a translation.

“He says I am to share your tepee.”