Read Online Captive Trail by Susan Page Davis - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Page Davis
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the man climbing out of the stagecoach on Sunday. “If he’s satisfied that Taabe Waipu is not his daughter, he’ll go with us to the home station and then on to Fort Belknap.”
“So you’ll wait for him,” Sister Natalie said.
“Yes. If she’s his daughter, he’ll stay.”
The man wore a dark suit and had the look of a towns-man—a shopkeeper, perhaps. A presentable man who should not offer any trouble to the mission enclave.
“Would you mind coming in with him, Mr. Bright?”
“Not at all.”
Ned entered the mission with the passenger—Joseph Henderson—and waited with him in the sitting room. Henderson paced, fidgeting with his hat. Ned hoped the sisters wouldn’t keep them long. He’d told Brownie ten minutes at most. He had no faith that he’d found Taabe’s father. For one thing, Henderson had brown eyes. Ned hadn’t bothered to ask what his daughter, Miriam, looked like or how old she was. Everyone with a missing daughter wanted to see the girl, even if she didn’t meet their child’s description. No words could convince them until they had seen her.
To Ned’s surprise, instead of returning to escort them to Taabe’s room, Sister Natalie and one of the other nuns—Sister Marie, he believed—came back with Taabe limping between them and leaning on their arms.
She didn’t look up as she entered the room. The nuns led her to a stool, and she sat down.
Ned caught his breath. What a difference the nuns had made!
Taabe’s hair glinted in the shaft of sunlight from the window. In Elena Garza’s long lavender dress with black trim, she looked serene and elegant, though the dress hung loosely on her thin frame. Instead of shoes, her feet were encased in the tall, beaded moccasins he’d found her in. Her blue eyes appraised Henderson then focused on Ned, sending a wave of kinship through him. It was almost like meeting an old friend after a lengthy absence. He hoped she was glad to see him too.
Ned smiled, and Taabe’s lips twitched, as though she wanted to respond. His heart surged.
Henderson stepped toward her. “Good morning, young lady. May I ask your name?”
Taabe swung her gaze back to him, but said nothing.
“Shall we all sit down?” Sister Natalie said.
Henderson frowned but took a seat. Sister Natalie sat near Taabe, and Sister Marie stood back, near the door. Ned watched Taabe, who sat quietly, her hands clasped on her lap, her back straight. A ray of sunshine still reached her, perhaps by Sister Natalie’s design, to illuminate her face for the visitor’s benefit. Her hair gleamed a lighter brown than he’d expected, no doubt thanks to the nuns’ patient care. The right side of her tanned face still bore some discoloration, but the swelling had abated, and he judged that she would be deemed pretty in any culture. She did not appear frightened this time, and barely curious. He wondered how many of these sessions she had undergone in five days.
“First of all, Mr. Henderson,” Sister Natalie said, “our guest understands only a handful of English words. She calls herself Taabe Waipu, and she appears not to remember her original name.”
Ned recalled what Reece Jones had told him. Sun Woman. Now it seemed appropriate. Had her hair been even lighter when she was a child? Perhaps it had floated about her in a golden cloud when the Comanche took her.
“I’m just not sure,” Henderson said. “It’s been so long, and this young lady looks a bit older than our Miriam. But I realize I’m thinking of her as she was four years ago.”
“What about her eyes?” Ned asked.
Henderson hesitated and squinted at Taabe. “They were blue. My wife was German. She’s passed on now. This broke her heart—the raid. Losing the children. They took our son, Paul, as well.”
“If this is your daughter, she might remember being taken with her brother,” Sister Natalie said gently.
Henderson nodded and leaned forward. “Paul,” he said. “Do you remember Paul, your
“So you’ll wait for him,” Sister Natalie said.
“Yes. If she’s his daughter, he’ll stay.”
The man wore a dark suit and had the look of a towns-man—a shopkeeper, perhaps. A presentable man who should not offer any trouble to the mission enclave.
“Would you mind coming in with him, Mr. Bright?”
“Not at all.”
Ned entered the mission with the passenger—Joseph Henderson—and waited with him in the sitting room. Henderson paced, fidgeting with his hat. Ned hoped the sisters wouldn’t keep them long. He’d told Brownie ten minutes at most. He had no faith that he’d found Taabe’s father. For one thing, Henderson had brown eyes. Ned hadn’t bothered to ask what his daughter, Miriam, looked like or how old she was. Everyone with a missing daughter wanted to see the girl, even if she didn’t meet their child’s description. No words could convince them until they had seen her.
To Ned’s surprise, instead of returning to escort them to Taabe’s room, Sister Natalie and one of the other nuns—Sister Marie, he believed—came back with Taabe limping between them and leaning on their arms.
She didn’t look up as she entered the room. The nuns led her to a stool, and she sat down.
Ned caught his breath. What a difference the nuns had made!
Taabe’s hair glinted in the shaft of sunlight from the window. In Elena Garza’s long lavender dress with black trim, she looked serene and elegant, though the dress hung loosely on her thin frame. Instead of shoes, her feet were encased in the tall, beaded moccasins he’d found her in. Her blue eyes appraised Henderson then focused on Ned, sending a wave of kinship through him. It was almost like meeting an old friend after a lengthy absence. He hoped she was glad to see him too.
Ned smiled, and Taabe’s lips twitched, as though she wanted to respond. His heart surged.
Henderson stepped toward her. “Good morning, young lady. May I ask your name?”
Taabe swung her gaze back to him, but said nothing.
“Shall we all sit down?” Sister Natalie said.
Henderson frowned but took a seat. Sister Natalie sat near Taabe, and Sister Marie stood back, near the door. Ned watched Taabe, who sat quietly, her hands clasped on her lap, her back straight. A ray of sunshine still reached her, perhaps by Sister Natalie’s design, to illuminate her face for the visitor’s benefit. Her hair gleamed a lighter brown than he’d expected, no doubt thanks to the nuns’ patient care. The right side of her tanned face still bore some discoloration, but the swelling had abated, and he judged that she would be deemed pretty in any culture. She did not appear frightened this time, and barely curious. He wondered how many of these sessions she had undergone in five days.
“First of all, Mr. Henderson,” Sister Natalie said, “our guest understands only a handful of English words. She calls herself Taabe Waipu, and she appears not to remember her original name.”
Ned recalled what Reece Jones had told him. Sun Woman. Now it seemed appropriate. Had her hair been even lighter when she was a child? Perhaps it had floated about her in a golden cloud when the Comanche took her.
“I’m just not sure,” Henderson said. “It’s been so long, and this young lady looks a bit older than our Miriam. But I realize I’m thinking of her as she was four years ago.”
“What about her eyes?” Ned asked.
Henderson hesitated and squinted at Taabe. “They were blue. My wife was German. She’s passed on now. This broke her heart—the raid. Losing the children. They took our son, Paul, as well.”
“If this is your daughter, she might remember being taken with her brother,” Sister Natalie said gently.
Henderson nodded and leaned forward. “Paul,” he said. “Do you remember Paul, your
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