Something had been bothering Chases Rabbits since they found the moccasin tracks, and now he gave voice to it. “Why there only tracks of three women?”
“I don’t know.”
“You think they at village or down there?”
Zach nodded at the mercantile. “I’ll find out when I go down.”
“I go, too.”
“One of us should stick close to the horses in case we need them in a hurry.”
Chases Rabbits saw the logic, but he was troubled. “You did say we friends, yes?”
“I’m as good a friend with you as I am with anyone.”
“Then me have favor must ask. You stay with horses. I go see what whites do.”
“Why you?”
Chases Rabbits struggled with how to put into white words how much he cared for Raven On The Ground, and how if she was in trouble, it was partly his fault since he was the one who had suggested she come work for the whites, and how, as a Crow warrior, he had to protect the women. But that was a lot to express, so he simply said, “Raven On The Ground.”
“I savvy,” Zach said. “I have Lou. She’s as important to me as your sweetheart is to you.”
“Sweetheart?” This was new to Chases Rabbits.
“It stands for the woman you care for the most,” Zach explained.
“Sweetheart.” Chases Rabbits grinned. “That fit. Me like it.”
“The whites have a saying,” Zach said. “We can’t live with them and we can’t live without them. Or as Uncle Shakespeare puts it, we can’t live without them and we can’t chuck them off cliffs.”
“Chuck?”
“Throw.”
Chases Rabbits was lost. “Why we throw sweethearts off cliff? They maybe die.”
“Doesn’t Raven On The Ground ever get your dander up?”
“Dander?”
“Temper. Doesn’t she ever make you angry?”
“She mostly make me happy and warm.”
Zach suddenly switched his attention to the hollow. “One of the whites.”
The twilight had darkened, but there was sufficient light to reveal Petrie walking in a wide circle around the trading post.
“What him do?”
“Maybe he’s getting some fresh air,” Zach speculated. “Or maybe he’s making sure everyone has gone for the day.”
“Him never talk much, that one.”
“He strikes me as a sidewinder. The most dangerous of the bunch.”
“How you know that? You see him shoot or use knife?”
“It’s how he carries himself. It’s his eyes. He’s a killer. You stay shy of him, you hear?”
Chases Rabbits had learned to trust Zach’s judgment. It compounded his worry: his sweetheart in the hands of a killer. “The other whites like him?”
“Could be, but he’s the one I’d watch out for.”
An inky mantle replaced the velvet blue of sky, and stars sparkled like so many diamonds. A coyote yipped, and as if that were a signal, the night pealed with a bestial chorus of roars and shrieks and bleats.
“Petrie’s gone back in,” Zach said. “Time for your look-see. Give a holler if you run into trouble and I’ll come on the run.”
“What I holler?”
“ ‘Help’ is always good.”
Careful not to bump the wolf, Chases Rabbits rose and crept down the slope. He excelled at stalking. Crow children played a game where they snuck up on one another, and he had always been good at it.
The smell of the burned wood got into his nose, and he felt the urge to sneeze. Quickly pinching it, he waited until the urge faded.
Moving slowly, Chases Rabbits came to the front corner of the mercantile and peered around it. The door was closed. Inside, the whites were still talking and laughing. A celebration of some kind, he concluded. Crouching, he sidled to the window and raised an eye to the bottom of the glass.
The mercantile was a mess. Goods had been thrown all over the floor and shelves had been upended. Geist was on the counter, drinking from a long-necked bottle. Petrie was watching Dryfus and Gratt, who also had bottles. They were pushing a woman back and forth, cuffing her and squeezing her bosom. The woman was horror-struck.
So was Chases Rabbits.
It was Raven On The Ground.
Chases Rabbits was at the front door before he realized his feet were moving. Jerking on the latch, he pushed the door open and rushed inside, his new rifle level at his hip. He was so mad, he wasn’t thinking. “Stop!” he cried.
The whites turned to stone. Geist had the whiskey bottle to his lips. Gratt was about to shove Raven On The Ground and had his hand on her shoulder. She turned, her face pale and sweaty, and said in Crow, “Chases Rabbits? Is that you?” Her speech was slurred and she couldn’t seem to stand up straight.
Petrie started to raise his rifle.
“No!” Chases Rabbits yelled, and took aim. His brain began to work. He had blundered in charging inside. He was one against four; he couldn’t possibly shoot them all before they shot him. In Crow he said, “Come to me, Raven On The Ground.”
“I can’t.”
Chases Rabbits didn’t take his eyes off Petrie, the one Zach had warned him about. “Why not?”
“I can hardly walk. They held me down and poured firewater down my throat.”
Moving wide around Dryfus to reach her, Chases Rabbits said, “I will get you out of here.”
“Lavender and Flute Girl are in a room in the back,” Raven On The Ground said.
“Where is Spotted Fawn?”
“They killed her.”
Shock gripped Chases Rabbits. He had feared something like this, but to have it happen, to have the whites prove to be so callous and cruel after they had sought to convince him they were friendly, tore at him like the claws of a grizzly. “How could you?” he said to the one who had done the most convincing.
“Stupid Injun,” Geist muttered. Lowering the bottle, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “She got what all your kind deserve.”
“All Crows?”
“No, you damned numbskull. Anyone with red skin.”
Chases Rabbits almost shot him. He had been tricked, shamefully and terribly tricked, and now a Crow maiden was dead because of his mistake. He reached out to Raven On The Ground. “Take my hand.”
She started to but put her hand to her head instead and groaned. “I think I am going to be sick.”
“We must…” Chases Rabbits trailed off when a hard object was jammed low against his spine.
“Not a twitch, redskin, or I’ll blow you in half,” Berber said.
Chases Rabbits had made another mistake. He had failed to look behind him. He hesitated and was undone. Petrie was suddenly there, wrenching the rifle from his grasp and saying to the other whites, “Cover the windows and the doors.”
“What for?” Gratt said.
“When he was here last he was with the breed.”
“Zach King?”
Geist swung off the counter and drew a pistol. “Do as Petrie says. Gratt, you go watch the back door. Berber, keep your rifle on the simpleton.” He ran to the front door and opened it but only a hand’s width. “King!” he shouted. “Can you hear me out there?”
Silence reigned, save for the whisper of Petrie’s boots as he glided to Geist’s side.
“Zach King! I won’t ask you again! And in case you’re thinking you won’t answer me, I have your Injun friend and all of the women.”
More silence.
Chases Rabbits reached for Raven On The Ground, but Berber struck his arm with the rifle, sending pain and numbness from his elbow to his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
Geist looked worried. “By God, I will shoot them one by one! So help me, I will!” He pointed his pistol at Raven On The Ground. “Starting with the prettiest.”
From out of the darkness came, “I’m here. What do you want?”
Geist smiled and winked at Petrie, but Petrie was grim. “Drop your weapons and walk in here with your hands in the air.”