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Distant Heart
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Distant Heart
Tracey Bateman
To Vivian Bateman, my precious mother-in-law. You were
the exception to the in-law rule, and I cherish the time we
spent together. While I wrote this book, you battled illness
and won heaven. I look forward to the day I see you again,
vibrant, strong, and joyful, waiting for the rest of us with
those who have gone on before. You are loved.
Contents
One
Toni held her breath, biting back the scream that fought…
Two
Weary and travel-worn, the pioneers slowly rolled toward the fort.
Three
Ginger Freeman wasn’t exactly the type of person to hold…
Four
Toni said a hasty goodnight to Sam and crawled wearily…
Five
The morning of Fannie’s wedding arrived dark and overcast, with…
Six
Toni knew the moment she saw Fannie’s face that her…
Seven
A sting pinched her neck, and Toni let out a…
Eight
Pain, white and hot, sliced through Ginger’s thigh. The wagon…
Nine
Sam awoke to someone moaning close by. It only took…
Ten
After a seven-day delay, the wagon train was finally ready…
Eleven
The next day’s crossing of the Platte just before the…
Twelve
Toni woke with a start and sat up with the…
Thirteen
“I say we stay on the trail headin’ back. We’ll…
Fourteen
Dawn broke two full hours after Sam, Brian, and Timothy…
Fifteen
Timothy wept when they arrived back at the site of…
Sixteen
After a week of rain and wind, the Cheyennes’ trail…
Seventeen
Sam could have kicked himself for being so easily detected…
Eighteen
“Please don’t let on about this. I’ll be an outcast.”
Nineteen
Sam’s head pounded and he had trouble focusing on the…
Twenty
Misery poured through every bone in Toni’s body. She felt…
Twenty-One
Blake cursed the day he’d decided to take one more…
Twenty-Two
Toni awoke to the sound of Amanda’s sobs. According to…
Twenty-Three
Toni opened her eyes to find Amanda kneeling next to…
Discussion Questions
Special Thanks
About the Author
Other Books by Tracey Bateman
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
One
Toni held her breath, biting back the scream that fought to tear itself from her dry, aching throat. Bronze, nearly naked bodies sat regally, cruelly, atop painted ponies, as fearsome as the masters who rode them. Under a flag of truce these warriors had ridden into camp; wanted to make a trade. And, unless Toni missed her guess, she was the one they had come to acquire.
“Don’t worry.” Standing next to Toni, her friend and traveling companion, Fannie Caldwell, slipped her trembling hand into Toni’s damp palm and nearly squeezed the blood from her fingers. She spoke with a confidence Toni was far from feeling. “Sam and Blake will never let them take you. Even if they have to kill every last one of those half-naked savages.”
The words brought little comfort, considering the lecherous stare coming from the one who appeared to be the leader. A thick-chested, flat-stomached man with hair as black as pitch and eyes that gleamed with unmistakable intent. Lust looked the same no matter the color of a man’s skin. Toni should know. She’d seen it more times than she cared to remember.
“Looks like they’re offering three horses for you.” Kip Caldwell, Fannie’s thirteen-year-old brother spoke up, obviously impressed. “That’s a good offer. That chief is serious as all get out to have you, Miss Toni.”
Fannie reached out and gave the boy a hard pinch. “Kip, hush your mouth, for mercy’s sake!”
“YOW!” His yelp drew attention from the warriors near the end of the line. They stared, scowled, then turned away. Kip remained belligerent. “You know derned well Blake ain’t gonna let her go for that.”
“Blake isn’t going to let her go at all,” Fannie hissed. “You either hush or you can just get yourself inside the wagon. And what have I told you about saying ‘derned’?”
“Aw, Fannie. What’s wrong with it?”
“Never you mind, just do as I say.”
Toni barely listened to the whispered argument as she kept her gaze focused on the bargaining going on a few yards away. She could feel the accusing glares of the other pioneers around her. She could guess what they must be thinking. Once again, the no-good fancy woman had brought danger in their midst. Sweat trickled down her spine, and beneath her arms her dress had grown damp.
Dear Lord, is this what I deserve for all the sins I’ve committed?
The small band of Cheyenne warriors had been following the wagon train since daybreak. The wagon master, Blake Tanner, had called a halt at noon and ordered the wagons circled just in case the Indians planned to attack. Only now, in the mid-afternoon heat, had the fearsome creatures ridden into camp with trade on their minds. Given the wagon master’s obvious disdain for her, Toni couldn’t be as certain as his fiancée Fannie seemed to be that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to be rid of her once and for all.
With the firm shake of Blake’s head, the negotiations appeared to be reaching a frustrating peak for the chief. He tried to force the reins of three horses into Blake’s hands, but the wagon master stepped back, shaking his head again and holding up his hands, palms facing outward. Sam, the half-Sioux scout spoke to the warrior, his tone polite and respectful, but leaving no room for doubt as to the refusal of the Indian’s offer.
Nearly weak with relief, Toni swallowed hard and tried to control the urge to vomit. As much as she longed to avert her gaze from the fearsome lot of men with oil-slicked, painted torsos, she felt compelled to look on. She’d heard of the mesmerizing effects of terror that compelled a person to look into the face of a storm or stand unmoving before the dripping teeth of a grizzly bear. But only now had she ever experienced it firsthand.
The Indian loped up onto the back of his horse. He whipped his pony around to face Toni. Terror fused her knees straight and she couldn’t have run even if she’d had the presence of mind to do so.
“Woman!” The Indian shoved his finger toward her, then turned it back and thumped his chest. “You come with Swooping Eagle?”
Toni shook her head so fast and vehemently the Cheyenne began to spin before her. The warrior’s eyes narrowed to black, glittering slits.
He whipped his pony around once more, his broad, brown back glistening in the beating sun. He held up his arm for the twenty other warriors to follow.
One by one the pioneers lifted kerchiefs and aprons to cover their faces as the horses kicked dust into the dry air in the wake of their departure. Silently, they watched until the last Indian crested a hill on the horizon and disappeared down the other side. Then the buzz began, like a hive of angry bees.
Blake raised both arms and called for quiet. “Listen folks. We haven’t seen the last of the Cheyenne. They’ve been stirring up trouble in these parts for the soldiers and wagon trains for months. It’s going to be dark in a couple of hours, so we’re going to keep the wagons circled and post extra guards. Especially around the women.”
Toni’s face burned as slowly the attention of the wagon train folks s
hifted from Blake to her. “I say we let the chief have her,” called Mr. Kane. “I ain’t riskin’ my neck over some whore.”
Fannie gasped and shot into the middle of the circle. “How dare you! Toni can’t help what she was before. But she isn’t that kind of woman now. So don’t you even think about turning her over to that savage. You should be ashamed of yourself for even suggesting such a cowardly thing.”
Blake strode forward and placed his arm around his fiancée. “It’s all right, Fannie. No one’s turning Toni over to the Indians.” He pierced Mr. Kane with a look that boded no argument, then scanned the circle. “I want the captain of each section to increase the number of guards per section from two to five. We’ll leave six campfires burning and move out at daybreak. No children are allowed to walk without an adult. And at the first sign of any trouble, we’ll circle the wagons. Kane…keep that pup tied up tomorrow. If he gets loose, I’ll shoot him.”
Mr. Kane gave a jerky nod, turned and glared at Toni, then stalked off toward his wagon. Slowly the rest of the folks returned to their campsites to begin preparations for what was sure to be a restless night.
Toni’s legs refused to move. She watched helplessly as Fannie and Blake walked toward her hand in hand. Her friend reached out and squeezed her hand. “Don’t listen to Mr. Kane, Toni. He’s just an ignorant, bitter fool. Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry to be the cause of such trouble.” Toni felt her lips trembling.
Blake cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you two to get ready for the night. We’ll post two men outside your wagon. You’ll be safe.”
“Blake!” Fannie whispered. “Don’t you want to tell Toni something?”
Toni placed a hand on Fannie’s arm. “It’s okay.”
“No it isn’t.” She faced off with her future husband, hands pressed to her slender hips, her legs planted as she glared at him. “Tell Toni it’s not her fault that savage took a liking to her.”
Blake looked down at his fiancée and spoke in tight-lipped stubbornness. “He likes her hair. If Toni truly wants folks to see her as a changed woman, she should put it up like a decent woman instead of down and blowing in the wind like a…”
Fannie gasped, but Toni had expected no less. “He’s right.” She reached up and began to twist her hair until it rested in a knot at the nape of her neck. “May I borrow some pins, Fannie?”
Fannie’s eyes narrowed and she yanked at the pins holding her own hair until it hung free in a mass of riotous red curls. “Here take mine. I won’t put it back up until he apologizes to you.” So saying, she slapped the pins into Toni’s outstretched hand and stomped away to the wagon.
Bewilderment washed over Blake’s face, then his lips twisted into a crooked grin. “She sure does have some pretty hair, doesn’t she?”
“Yes.” Toni smiled.
“I suppose I owe you an apology.”
It wasn’t exactly the heartfelt remorse Fannie had been looking for, but it was more than Toni expected. “I’ll be sure to let her know you said so.”
As he walked away, Toni had to wonder how on earth she had ever caught the attention of the chief in the first place. She still had three scars along her cheekbone that had failed to heal properly after the beating she’d taken at the hands of the man who had owned the saloon in Hawkins, Kansas. The saloon where she had entertained any man who met George’s price. It was the only life she’d known since she was fifteen years old. Until the wagon train had pushed through the tiny, one-horse town of Hawkins, Kansas, two and a half months earlier, and her life had changed forever. Only now, with her beauty marred, she had thought, truly thought, men would leave her alone. But here she was once again, the object of desire and up for sale.
Sam Two Feathers knew one thing for certain. He’d be hanged before he’d let anyone harm one hair on Toni Rodden’s beautiful, white-blonde head. The Cheyenne war chief had been forceful and Sam knew they hadn’t seen the last of him. The last couple of hours, he had cautiously scouted along the horizon, looking for any sign to indicate an impending attack. But so far, he’d seen nothing. Most likely they were gathering reinforcements before trying to tangle with a wagon train of 250 members. Sam only prayed the wagon train would reach the fort before Swooping Eagle came back with force.
Darkness had settled over the wagon train and all was quiet, but he doubted anyone could rest after what was the first real threat from hostiles in the months they’d been on the trail since departing from Independence, Missouri, in April.
To be sure, there had been the occasional case of thievery from tribes who were out to cause more mischief than harm. Pawnee warriors had stolen two cows more than a month ago. And before that five Dakota Sioux warriors had wandered in begging for a meal. They’d eaten more than their share of venison stew and biscuits before leaving on good terms with iron pots tied to leather straps and clanging as they left. Those incidents had lulled the travelers into a false sense of security, despite Blake’s and Sam’s warnings that they were heading into Cheyenne territory and things wouldn’t be as calm from the Indians. But no one had listened. Now they knew better. Hopefully they’d be more on their guard.
Provided all went well, the band of weary travelers would arrive at Fort Laramie tomorrow. Blake had sent a scout ahead to warn the Captain that the train was under threat from the Cheyenne and requested an escort. Hopefully, a company of soldiers was on its way even now to provide extra safety from the disgruntled war chief.
But for tonight, Sam had no intention of taking his eyes off Toni’s wagon. Though unlikely, if the Cheyenne did try to sneak back into camp and steal her away, they’d have to go through him first.
Behind him a twig cracked, but he knew it was Blake so there was no cause for action. Blake had been watching the same wagon since the ladies had turned in. “Think we’re in for trouble tomorrow?” Sam asked without taking his gaze from the canvas-covered wagon.
“Could be.” Blake yanked a twig from his mouth and tossed it to the ground. “I should have known better than to let that woman join this train. This is what I get for going soft.”
Sam tried not to let his defenses rise, but Blake could be coldhearted at times. Although he was getting better since he’d made a decision to follow Christ, and had fallen in love with Fannie, he still had a tendency to be set in his own way of thinking. “The only thing Toni can be accused of is having a beautiful head of blonde hair.”
More correctly, hair that flowed like a white waterfall down her back, inviting a man’s fingers to swim in the thick currents. He couldn’t really blame the Cheyenne warrior. He himself was mesmerized each time the beautiful tendrils floated across her face and even more so, when she unconsciously pulled strands across the scars.
He could feel Blake’s questioning gaze on his face and knew his friend had picked up on the direction of his thoughts. He turned and faced the wagon master. “Don’t read more into this than it is.”
“You care for her.”
“I do.”
“Then you’re a better man than I am.”
“All have sinned, Blake. Even you.”
Blake gave a short laugh. “She sold herself to men. Nothing I’ve ever done even compares to that kind of thing.”
“Maybe in man’s eyes. But sin is sin in God’s eyes. Besides, my friend, Fannie, too, was forced to make difficult decisions, was she not?”
Anger flashed in Blake’s eyes. “Don’t even compare the two. Fannie had no choice. Toni did. She chose to sell her body.”
“Perhaps,” Sam gave a long exhale, “Toni also felt she had no choice.”
“Are we going to let a fancy woman come between us?”
Sam’s lips tightened into a grim line. “Only if you insist upon calling Toni words that no longer suit her. God has forgiven her, Blake. What right have you to refuse her a second chance?”
Blake stuck his thumb through his belt loop. “Mark my words, Two-Feathers. That woman will be back in business at the first opportuni
ty that comes her way. And if you lose your heart to her, you’re the worst kind of fool.”
Sam held his tongue. He didn’t need Blake Tanner telling him what kind of fool he was. Sam had lost his heart months ago, the moment he’d laid eyes on Toni. And no matter what anyone thought, he’d play the fool even though he knew she would never be his.
Blake expelled a loud breath. “Everyone turned in?”
Relieved to change the subject, Sam gave a nod. “I think so.”
“The Kanes’ pup tied up?”
Sam gave a solemn nod. “Yeah, but he’s not happy about it. Neither is Zach. And Mrs. Kane’s worried the dog’s going to hang himself pulling against his rope so bad.”
“Too bad. That animal’s a menace. It would be a mercy if the ignorant beast did hang himself. We should have left the ornery cuss where we found him.”
Sam said nothing. He agreed with Blake in one sense. The dog caused far too much of a ruckus in the wagon train, but they both knew that ever since Mrs. Kane lost her young daughter in a twister a few weeks earlier, she’d mourned terribly. Finding the half-wolf puppy shivering and abandoned on the plains had filled a void in her heart and started a process of healing the jagged tear left by the death of her only child. “I’ll keep an eye on the pup.”
“See that you do, or I’ll have Zach take him out and shoot him.” The tension in Blake’s voice raised Sam’s concern. It wasn’t like him to be this insistent over something so petty, even when facing danger from natives. Blake had fought in as many battles as Sam himself, and Sam had never known his friend to face danger with less than the steadiest of nerves.
“Somethin’ troubling you besides the Cheyenne, Blake?”