Chapter Twenty-Three
Bonnie hated to leave Annie. The woman had been so wonderful, and in just a short time, she’d become a real friend.
But Ace had to keep the herd moving. Besides, she didn’t want to put Annie in any danger.
Daniel and his son Richard were brave men, but there was no sense in dragging them into the fight.
She expected trouble as soon as the herd crossed the river and got moving up the trail, but none appeared.
Well, not in the form of bullets.
Around noon, right before Ace halted the herd for a break, Finn rode his horse behind a boulder to do his business. “Won’t be but a minute. Can’t hold it?—?”
Suddenly, a large rattler shot out from behind the boulder like a flash of lightning. Finn’s horse screamed and reared back.
Finn lost his balance and tumbled off, landing hard on his left leg and left rib. The rattler went to strike at him, but he whipped his gun out and took its head off.
Clyde raced over to Finn in no time and jumped off his horse. “I swear, that’s the biggest rattler I’ve ever seen. You cleaned his head for sure, Finn!”
“My leg!” Finn groaned.
Bonnie kept her horse back as she watched Ace and Dallas hurry to join the two friends. Please Lord, don’t let his leg be broken. Please. We need him.
“Let me check that leg!” Dallas barked, kneeling at Finn’s side. He looked the leg over, prodding it in a few places, then squeezed it gently. Finally, he sat back on his heels with a look of obvious relief. “Nah, ain’t broken. Landed on it hard, is all. Might have bruised a few ribs, too.”
“Mighty dumb thing I did. Shoulda checked for rattlers,” Finn grumbled to himself.
Ace helped Finn to his feet. “Can you walk?”
Gingerly, Finn shifted his weight, testing the leg, then nodded. “Yeah, I can walk, Ace. Just got the breath knocked out of me, is all.”
“I don’t know,” Clyde said, a dubious expression on his face. “You’re limping mighty bad, Finn.”
“We’ll have a doctor check him when we can,” Dallas promised Clyde.
Bonnie went to track Finn’s horse down. Thankfully, it hadn’t wandered far, and she was back within minutes. “Here’s your horse, Finn.”
“Grateful,” Finn nodded his head up at Bonnie. “Now if you’ll be good to look the other way, I still gotta do my business.”
That brought a round of chuckles from everyone.
“Yeah, he’s okay.” Clyde patted Finn’s shoulder.
Bonnie saw relief touch Ace’s eyes. If I ain’t mistaken, I swear Ace is starting to open up and let himself get close to these fellas…
After lunch, Ace got the herd moving again. They rode until it was almost sundown. Then, Ace called the herd to a stop.
“See that?” He pointed to a strange mark on a nearby tree. “Cherokee territory starts here. We could stay on the trail, but cutting through Cherokee land will save us time.”
Before Bonnie could speak a word, three horses appeared in the distance. “Ace?—?”
“I see ’em,” Ace said calmly. “The one in the middle is Chief Wohali. He’s a peaceful man. Just stay here.”
Bonnie stayed in front of the herd while Ace rode forward through a thicket of shadows.
I reckon not all Indians are bad. Just like the white man. Some are good and some ain’t. Ace knows what he’s doing. I ain’t as scared as I would be if I was riding alone.
Ace talked with Chief Wohali for a while and then rode him back to the herd. Bonnie watched the man count each head before darkness fully engulfed the land.
“Okay,” Ace called out, “let’s get the herd moving. Follow me!”
“I can barely see,” Bonnie murmured, struggling to make out Ace’s form.
Ace doesn’t sound worried, just tired and ready to settle down for the night. That’s good, I guess. It could be worse. We could be dead. There’s no telling what Roscoe is up to.
Bonnie followed Ace onto Cherokee land.
“Listen,” Ace whispered over to her, “you’re my wife, okay?”
“What?” Bonnie’s hands tightened on the reins, and her horse snorted.
“Chief Wohali don’t approve of unwed women riding on the trail, so I told him you were my wife. Ride with it,” Ace ordered. “He’s got a shelter for us to sleep in.”
Bonnie could barely believe her ears. “Did a horse kick you in the head?”
“Trust me, Bonnie, it was the only way. You’re sleeping with me tonight—I promise I won’t touch you.” Ace’s voice became more stern. “The deal has already been made.”
If barns don’t hold hay! Bonnie wasn’t sure what to make of Ace’s ‘deal,’ but after she got over her initial shock, she was surprised by how little the idea bothered her. She knew Ace wouldn’t try to have his way with her. He was just trying to help her—to help everyone.
She raised her eyes and looked through the tree branches hanging overhead. The night sky was splattered with millions of shining stars. Each star, she believed, held a dream. Somewhere deep inside her soul, Bonnie had to believe one of those dreams belonged to her.
This can’t be all, Lord. You have to have more in store for me than this. Please.
“Bonnie?” Ace prompted.
“Okay… I’ll go along with it.”
“Good.”
Bonnie helped get the herd deeper into Cherokee territory.
The land didn’t seem any different from Choctaw territory.
She spotted a cluster of teepees and campfires nearby.
The village was silent. Why shouldn’t it be?
The hour was late. From what she understood, Indians rose with the sun and danced with each hour of light like rose petals in the rain.
After the herd was settled for the night, Chief Wohali led Ace and Bonnie to their designated teepee. To her amazement, he spoke nearly perfect English. “You and your wife will rest here.”
“For two days, right?” Ace asked.
“Yes,” Chief Wohali answered, nodding. He was tall and almost vicious in appearance, yet his eyes held much sorrow. As his gaze swept over the village, Bonnie sensed a deep compassion in him, carved by whatever grief he carried inside his heart. “We will provide food.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me,” Chief Wohali insisted. “It is not you who took my people from their land. It is not you who betrayed and killed my people. Many white men fought for my people and died.”
“I’m sorry,” Bonnie blurted before she could stop herself.
Chief Wohali looked through the darkness at Bonnie.
“Has the white man not turned on his own? ” he asked in a deep and unnerving voice.
“Because the land was stolen and innocent blood was shed, the land is cursed. The white man will fill the land with blood. Our children will never know peace. There will always be a sword in the land.”
“Reckon so,” Ace agreed. “Bonnie, get your horse settled. I need to talk to Dallas, Finn, and Clyde.”
Bonnie nodded and watched him walk away, then turned and began tending to her horse.
***
About a half hour later, Ace walked his horse up to the teepee and began taking off the saddle. “We’ll stay here for two days.”
“And see if Roscoe will ride on?” Bonnie asked.
“Maybe,” Ace answered. “Maybe we’ll get him frustrated enough to do something real stupid.”
“Like try to attack us?”
“I know Chief Wohali, Bonnie. He’s a brave warrior?—?”
“You seem to know a lot of Indians.” Bonnie’s voice came out sharper than she’d intended. “Sorry.”
“You’re tired.”
“And scared,” Bonnie admitted. She wrapped her arms around herself, even though the night was warm. “Ace, I reckon… I reckon I have a lot in common with these Indians. They were forced from their land. Roscoe stole me away from my home. All I want is peace, too, like them.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” Bonnie watched Ace—his shadow—work to get his horse settled.
Ace set his saddle on the ground. “When I was fighting in the war, I knew, near the end… something was wrong. The stench of betrayal was in the air. Other fellas smelled the same stink.”
Before Bonnie could think of reply, Ace ended the conversation.
“We best get settled down. Get your trail blanket.”
Bonnie found her trail blanket and followed Ace into the dark teepee. It felt hot, a bit on the stuffy side, but not overly cramped. The smell of animal skins was strong but not suffocating.
“Awful dark in here…”
“Just lay down and get some sleep,” Ace told Bonnie in a tired voice. “We’ll get you a room when we reach Wichita.”
If we reach Wichita, you mean.
Bonnie sighed. She placed her trail blanket onto the packed dirt and lay down. The ground was hard—but familiar.
Ace lay next to Bonnie. Not too close, though. He allowed about three feet between them.
“Pray?” he asked.
“Okay.”
Ace cleared his throat. “Dear Lord, I know Bonnie is scared, and this ground is hard. Our bodies are tired, and so are our minds. Please give us some rest and help us sleep. In Jesus Name I ask this, Amen.”
“Amen,” Bonnie whispered. As soon as she did, a feeling of comfort washed through her spirit. I’m safe. Ace won’t ever try to hurt me or have his way with me. He’ll die for me if it comes to that. I wish he really was my husband.
That single thought echoed through Bonnie’s mind—not like thunder, but like a warm summer breeze playing over a field of tender honeysuckle.
She lay awake, wondering what her life would’ve been like if she’d married a man like Ace.
She listened to his breathing rise and fall and, eventually, settle into the even rhythm of sleep.
“Goodnight, Ace,” she whispered, feeling a single tear roll down her cheek in the dark. “Thank you for caring.”
Then, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a dream.
She saw herself as a little girl again, standing beside a sad and lonely grave on a small hill under a large tree. Dry flowers surrounded the headstone.
“I brought you fresh flowers, Mommy. Pa helped me pick ’em.”
Bonnie watched the little girl take away the withered flowers and replace them with fresh roses. “I promise I won’t cry this time, Mommy. Pa told me you’re with Jesus and the angels. I know you’re okay, it’s just that… I want you here.”
And then, the tears came in a flood. Somehow, Bonnie knew the little girl just wasn’t crying for her mother, but for every ounce of future pain she would feel through the years.
When would the pain stop? The fear? The questions?
Suddenly, the dream changed. She found herself as a grown woman staring into the face of a woman Roscoe Carver had shot dead. The woman’s eyes were flat and lifeless—but Bonnie’s were full of fear and trepidation.
Sooner or later, Roscoe would kill her. It was only a matter of time. Her folks weren’t there to protect her.
No one was.
Or was that true? Bonnie had always believed a guardian angel was protecting her. After all, Roscoe hadn’t managed to kill her over the long years of abuse.
The dream changed again. This time, she saw herself riding beside Ace down a beautiful trail filled with flowers of every kind. Off to the right, she heard a gentle river flowing. The smell of honeysuckle was sweet in the air.
“Everything is going to be okay, Bonnie,” Ace said, only he wasn’t looking at her. He kept his head forward like he was searching for something—or someone. His gun was drawn, and his face was set.
“No matter what, you just gotta keep fighting. The trail leads to many places, don’t mean you let your gun rest. Just the way life is. But in the end, everything will be okay.”
Then, Roscoe’s ugly voice shattered the air.
“There you are!”
***
Bonnie’s eyes jerked open, and she sat straight up.
A firm but gentle hand greeted her. “It’s okay… it’s okay…”
Ace…?
Bonnie turned to see late morning light peeking in through the front of the teepee. Ace had pulled the flap back. The sound of cattle and horses outside rode in on dusty wings.
“Ace?—?”
“It’s almost noon. Clyde is getting lunch cooked. I let you sleep because you obviously needed it, but you best get up and eat. I’ll wait outside for you.”
It took Bonnie a minute, but she managed to get awake and join Ace outside the teepee. A new day greeted her—along with uncertainty and the promise of love… mingled with blood.