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Authors: Rosanne Bittner
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his face as he managed to get to his feet and turn to glare at Abbie, his legs wobbly.
“You white squaw bitch!” he growled. “You’d shoot one of your own kind?”
“I don’t call the likes of you my own kind, mister!” she replied, keeping her voice firm to hide her own terror. She held the gun steadily. “Now get out of here!”
“If you shoot me, you’ll make big trouble for yourself and the rest of these red buggers you call friend.”
“Perhaps I would!” she spat back. “But either way, you’d still be
dead
, wouldn’t you, Mr. Cole?”
Their eyes met in challenge, and he decided that if she had truly killed three Crow men she was not a woman to argue with when she had a gun in her hands. He bent down and picked up his hat, pain still ripping through his groin, his breathing labored, his pantsdripping wet. He sought her eyes once more.
“You better hope your husband wins that knife fight today, white squaw woman! Because if he don’t, you won’t have nobody around to protect you!”
“I’ll have my son—and the entire Southern Cheyenne nation to protect me, Mr. Cole. Your threats mean nothing to me! Now get out of here!”
The man glared at her another moment, on fire with desire at the sight of her bared breast. He turned and stormed out.
Abbie closed her eyes and breathed deeply for composure, setting the gun aside with shaking hands. She quickly retied her tunic and rushed to Lillian. She grabbed Jason into her arms, meeting Lillian’s terror-filled eyes.
“You must not tell your father, Lillian, or your brothers and sisters! Do you understand? It’s very important they don’t know about that man who was just here. He could cause big trouble for your father! Promise me, Lillian!”
The little girl nodded and sniffled. Abbie hugged Jason close and could not prevent a sob from escaping her own soul. The crowd in the distance had grown louder, but she was more afraid of Zeke finding out about the soldier’s visit than of the knife fight, which must now be close to over. The way the men were shouting, perhaps it had already ended.
“Sweet Jesus, bring him back to me!” she whispered. “And don’t let him find out about this!” She opened her eyes and looked at Lillian again, giving her a reassuring smile, although tears spilled down her cheeks. “Help Mama clean up, Lillian. That man spilled water everywhere.”
Five
At the fort everything was pandemonium. Wolf’s Blood fought tears as he watched blood pour from three wounds on his father: the one on his stomach, one on his right forearm and one on his right thigh. But he seemed neither weak nor tired. Blade suffered from four slashes: the ones on his chest and upper right arm, a third across his chest again and one deep gash through his cheek and lips. Both men were panting and sweating and covered with dust, circling, waving their huge blades menacingly. Now was the time. Now was when instinct must dictate the right moment to move in! It was only a matter of which man would be first to grasp the advantage.
“Now, Father, now!” Wolf’s Blood quietly hissed through gritted teeth. “Hurry before you weaken!” The roar of the crowd around him was almost deafening, and the onlookers closed in, leaving the opponents less room in which to move.
Zeke suddenly let out a blood-curdling screech through gritted teeth, taking advantage of a misstep by Blade that made the man stumble slightly. A quick thrust ended with Cheyenne Zeke’s blade deep in the abdomen of the one called Blade. Blade froze in place,his eyes bulging, while the crowd of onlookers suddenly went almost dead silent. Wolf’s Blood grinned through tears as the two opponents stood there for one tense moment, until Zeke, using his own brand of ending a knife fight, jerked upward with his knife, opening Blade’s torso before pushing the man off his knife and letting him fall backward, the leather strap ripping from his mouth.
Everyone gawked in astonishment
“You white squaw bitch!” he growled. “You’d shoot one of your own kind?”
“I don’t call the likes of you my own kind, mister!” she replied, keeping her voice firm to hide her own terror. She held the gun steadily. “Now get out of here!”
“If you shoot me, you’ll make big trouble for yourself and the rest of these red buggers you call friend.”
“Perhaps I would!” she spat back. “But either way, you’d still be
dead
, wouldn’t you, Mr. Cole?”
Their eyes met in challenge, and he decided that if she had truly killed three Crow men she was not a woman to argue with when she had a gun in her hands. He bent down and picked up his hat, pain still ripping through his groin, his breathing labored, his pantsdripping wet. He sought her eyes once more.
“You better hope your husband wins that knife fight today, white squaw woman! Because if he don’t, you won’t have nobody around to protect you!”
“I’ll have my son—and the entire Southern Cheyenne nation to protect me, Mr. Cole. Your threats mean nothing to me! Now get out of here!”
The man glared at her another moment, on fire with desire at the sight of her bared breast. He turned and stormed out.
Abbie closed her eyes and breathed deeply for composure, setting the gun aside with shaking hands. She quickly retied her tunic and rushed to Lillian. She grabbed Jason into her arms, meeting Lillian’s terror-filled eyes.
“You must not tell your father, Lillian, or your brothers and sisters! Do you understand? It’s very important they don’t know about that man who was just here. He could cause big trouble for your father! Promise me, Lillian!”
The little girl nodded and sniffled. Abbie hugged Jason close and could not prevent a sob from escaping her own soul. The crowd in the distance had grown louder, but she was more afraid of Zeke finding out about the soldier’s visit than of the knife fight, which must now be close to over. The way the men were shouting, perhaps it had already ended.
“Sweet Jesus, bring him back to me!” she whispered. “And don’t let him find out about this!” She opened her eyes and looked at Lillian again, giving her a reassuring smile, although tears spilled down her cheeks. “Help Mama clean up, Lillian. That man spilled water everywhere.”
Five
At the fort everything was pandemonium. Wolf’s Blood fought tears as he watched blood pour from three wounds on his father: the one on his stomach, one on his right forearm and one on his right thigh. But he seemed neither weak nor tired. Blade suffered from four slashes: the ones on his chest and upper right arm, a third across his chest again and one deep gash through his cheek and lips. Both men were panting and sweating and covered with dust, circling, waving their huge blades menacingly. Now was the time. Now was when instinct must dictate the right moment to move in! It was only a matter of which man would be first to grasp the advantage.
“Now, Father, now!” Wolf’s Blood quietly hissed through gritted teeth. “Hurry before you weaken!” The roar of the crowd around him was almost deafening, and the onlookers closed in, leaving the opponents less room in which to move.
Zeke suddenly let out a blood-curdling screech through gritted teeth, taking advantage of a misstep by Blade that made the man stumble slightly. A quick thrust ended with Cheyenne Zeke’s blade deep in the abdomen of the one called Blade. Blade froze in place,his eyes bulging, while the crowd of onlookers suddenly went almost dead silent. Wolf’s Blood grinned through tears as the two opponents stood there for one tense moment, until Zeke, using his own brand of ending a knife fight, jerked upward with his knife, opening Blade’s torso before pushing the man off his knife and letting him fall backward, the leather strap ripping from his mouth.
Everyone gawked in astonishment
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