“You’re awful rude.”
Blunt drew a pistol and pointed it at Venom. The click of the hammer was ominously loud. “Talking to you is like talking to an infant. Make yourselves scarce or we’ll make you dead.”
The other freighters raised rifles and pistols.
Venom was fit to explode. It was bad enough to be treated this way. It was worse that his men had to see him humiliated. All he’d wanted was to jaw a spell, maybe find out if the freighters had come across Indian sign. He reined around but paused to say, “I won’t forget this. I won’t forget how you’ve treated us for no reason.”
“Mister, I have all the reason in the world,” Blunt responded, the pistol rock-steady in his hand. “The freight in those wagons has been entrusted to me. Those who hired me know I’ll get it where it has to go. Neither Indians nor brigands nor Nature itself will stay me in my course.”
Potter cleared his throat. “Why are we wasting our time with this cantankerous bastard when there’s that white girl and her friends to find?”
Jeremiah Blunt glanced sharply at him.
Venom swiveled to give Potter a look that made him recoil as if he’d been hit. Swearing under his breath, Venom turned back to the freight captain. “Thanks for nothing, you grumpy goat.” He rode off and didn’t look back. He didn’t want his men to see how mad he was. He must always give the impression he was made of iron. Any hint of weakness, and one of them might take it into their head to challenge his leadership. Logan, for instance.
Suddenly the Kyler twins were on both sides of him.
“What the hell do you two want?”
“We can fix him for you. One shot is all it would take.”
Venom glanced at their ears. “He’s not worth the bother, Jeph. His men might come after us, and like Potter said, we have that white girl and her Injun friends to think of.”
“I’d never let anyone talk to me the way Blunt did to you,” Seph remarked.
“No, you’d have shot him and gotten the rest of us killed.” Venom was about to add that they should fall back in line when the rest of his men came up alongside.
“Say the word, boss,” Potter said.
“You’re lunkheads, the whole bunch of you.”
“We could wait until tonight and jump them,” Potter persisted.
“Maybe lose half of us, and for what?” Venom said gruffly. “To punish them for their insult? Then what? We sell their freight? Because we sure as hell can’t turn in their scalps for bounty money. Hardly any of them had hair dark enough or long enough to be mistook for Injun hair.”
Logan snorted in what could only be contempt. “If it’d been me the bastard treated that way, I wouldn’t slink off with my tail between my legs.”
Venon reined up so abruptly that Calvert, who was behind him, nearly rode into his horse. Everyone else also came to a stop. “What did you just say?”
“A man has to stand up for himself or he’s not much of a man.”
“You’re suggesting I’m yellow?”
“What? No. You make an insult where none is intended.”
“Now I’m stupid as well as yellow.”
“Damn it,” Logan said. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I don’t blame you for being angry. That wagon boss made you eat crow. But don’t take it out on me. Go back there and knock his teeth in.”
“I have a better idea.” Venom drew his pistol and shot him.
Chapter Ten
The hard part was not knowing when the scalp hunters would catch up. It was like sour food in the pit of Evelyn’ s stomach, an ache that wouldn’t go away. The others were worried, too. She could see it in their faces. Except for Plenty Elk. He didn’t seem worried at all. Maybe it was the deaths of his friends. He acted eager for a fight, as if he had something to prove. Whatever his reasons, Evelyn was glad he was there.
Waku and his family weren’t fighters. The Nansusequa had been a peaceful tribe. They fought only when provoked. From what Evelyn could gather, most eastern tribes didn’t esteem counting coup as highly as tribes west of the Mississippi River. Why that should be was another of life’s many mysteries.
All morning they rode hard. When the sun was at its zenith, they stopped to rest their lathered mounts.
Evelyn passed out pemmican. She gave a piece to Plenty Elk and he signed his thanks. He had more to sign.
‘Scalp men catch us tomorrow.’
‘No today?’
‘They have far ride where black man kill my friend. They have far ride here.’
Evelyn wasn’t so sure. The scalp hunters would push hard, too. ‘Maybe when sun go down.’
‘Question. White men fight night?’
‘Yes.’ Evelyn was aware many tribes usually only waged war during the day. Some whites believed it was due to a superstitious taboo. Common sense was the real reason. Fighting in the dark, when a person could hardly see, was an invite to an early grave.
‘Question. You have husband?’
Evelyn was startled. It had been her experience that Indian men, especially Indian men her age, only asked that question when they had designs in that direction. ‘I have no mate,’ she signed.
‘You beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You smell good.’
Evelyn was flabbergasted. Here they were, fleeing for their lives from a pack of demons in human guise, and this young warrior was trying to court her. ‘You smell my sweat,’ she signed.
‘Sweat smell good,’ Plenty Elk persisted.
Men, Evelyn decided, were too ridiculous for words. She smiled and went over to Dega and gave him a piece of pemmican from the beaded parfleche her mother had made.
“What you two hand talk about?” Dega asked.
“Nothing much.”
Dega had been watching them closely, and he was sure it was more than nothing. He had seen her face, seen how she reacted to something the Arapaho warrior signed. “Him have big ears.”
“Excuse me?”
Dega touched one of his own ears to emphasize how much smaller his were. “His ears too much big. Look funny.”
“I thought the Nansusequa don’t judge people by how they look but by how they are inside,” Evelyn reminded him.
“We do.” Dega felt it necessary to justify his lapse. “I not judge his ears. I just say they big.”
“He can’t help how he was born.”
That she would defend the Arapaho worried Dega considerably. “You like his ears more or my ears more?”
“Ears are ears.”
“Please. Which ears best?”
Was it her imagination, Evelyn asked herself, or was Dega jealous? “Mountain lion ears are sharpest,” she answered, and went over to Teni. The older girl took a piece of pemmican and thanked her in the Nansusequa tongue.
Dega squatted and held a counsel with himself. Perhaps it was time he told Evelyn how he felt. Until now he had hidden his true feelings, afraid that if he revealed them, she would want nothing more to do with him.
Evelyn faced east and shielded her eyes with her hand. The distant haze was unbroken save by a flock of birds in flight. She turned and nearly bumped into Waku, who had come up behind her. “Goodness. Scare a person, why don’t you?”
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I’m jumpy.”
“No sign of the scalp men yet.” Waku had been anxiously watching their back trail all morning.
“Not yet, no.” Evelyn had been thinking, and she had an idea. For it to work, she needed to know something. “Tell me. Will your family kill if they have to?”
“My son and me kill if bad men catch us,” Waku promised.
“No, not just you two,” Evelyn clarified. “What about Tihikanima and Teni and little Miki? Have they ever killed?”