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“There aren’t that many of us women at the fort, and very few children, and it looks as though all but me are waiting for the stagecoach,” Leonida whispered to herself. “Why?”
She spun around, her eyes even wider at the sudden thought that came to her. “Unless . . .” she murmured—but didn’t stop to finish her thought.
Shedding her gown, she slipped into a floor-length skirt and a comfortable drawstring white blouse. After putting on her shoes, she hurried to the door, stopping only long enough to grab a hairbrush from her dresser.
Brushing her hair with one hand, Leonida yanked the door open with the other and ran down the long corridor until she reached the officers’ quarters at the far end of the building. Since Kit Carson’s arrival, her father’s office had once again been turned into the main officers’ quarters of the fort.
Leonida resented this intrusion with a passion, even more now that she contemplated what might have happened to cause such a stir in the women and children to the point that they were waiting to flee the fort as soon as the stagecoach arrived this morning.
Leonida stopped just outside the door that led into the office. The voices inside were loud enough for her to hear what was being said. Putting her ear to the door, Leonida listened intently, growing cold inside the more she heard.
“The last of the women and children have been readied for travel,” Harold said. “Except for Leonida. I’m not sure what to do about her. The other night she left like a wild thing bent for hell, and then I found her later wearing that damn Indian necklace again. It only proved one thing to me—that she met up with the Navaho chief again, and the thought disgusts me.”
“She does seem to have a mind of her own,” Kit said, chuckling.
“If her father were alive he wouldn’t allow such behavior,” Harold grumbled. “And by God, I’m not going to either. She’s not going anywhere except to a preacher with me. Then I’m going to teach her some manners she’s forgotten since her father’s death.”
“I’d say you’re asking for trouble you don’t need,” Kit warned. “You’ve enough on your hands with the Indians in this area, much less a woman who obviously hates your guts.”
“She’ll change her tune once she discovers she’s the only woman left on the fort’s premises,” Harold said, laughing throatily.
“You’re wrong to do that,” Kit scolded. “Damn wrong.”
“She’s my woman,” Harold said flatly. “I’ll say what she is and is not to do around here.”
Kit laughed sarcastically. “Seems she’s shown you a time or two just how much she’s not your woman.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that,” Harold grumbled. He paused, then said, “Are all of the women and children ready? The stagecoach should be rolling in any moment now.”
“As far as I can tell,” Kit said. “I hope we’ve assigned enough soldiers to their protection. It’s one thing to send them away from this area because it’s heating up with Indian troubles. It’s another thing to send them right out into the hands of the Indians.”
“I’ve assigned as many men as could be spared,” Harold said. “We’re right to send the women and children away. When I received the news of this latest raid, just last night, I knew that something had to be done. Last night was the last straw. None of those settlers were left alive. And now that Sage has been pointed out to be the leader of these renegades, he must die.”
“We haven’t got positive proof it was Sage,” Kit said in Sage’s defense. “I know that he was angry as hell yesterday, but I assure you, he would not do anything as cold-blooded as what was reported to us today.”
“Kit, damn it, I mean business,” Harold stormed. “I’m going to stop these raids and killings once and for all. Kill all of the Navaho men, and take the women and children prisoners. They’ve been warned. They didn’t listen.”
“I just can’t do what you are asking,” Kit said somberly. “But I will round up the Navaho. For years I’ve been writing the Department of Indian Affairs about the Navaho being placed on reservations. At least now I’m being given the job of carrying out my own recommendation.” He paused, then added, “And one thing for damn sure, I’m going to give Sage a chance to prove his innocence.”
“I say to you, Kit Carson, that if Sage so much as looks like he’s going to resist, shoot him dead,” Harold said, his voice cold and impersonal.
Leonida’s knees grew weak. Sage was being accused of raids. Had someone said that they had seen him? Had he been with her one minute, kissing her, and then killing innocent women and children in his next breath?
“No,” Leonida whispered to herself. “Sage isn’t the one. He couldn’t be.”
Then she recalled Harold’s embittered words and his orders to kill Sage. Surely Kit Carson saw the reason for Harold’s eagerness to see Sage killed: jealousy.
Her eyes wild, Leonida ran to a window and looked out again at the women and children who waited anxiously for the stagecoach. She could not believe that she had not been included. She could not believe that Harold had said all of those horrible things about her, and how he was going to force her into marrying and obeying him.
“That’s what he thinks,” she whispered harshly, anger swelling within her.
Harold’s loud voice boomed through the closed door again. Leonida cringed when she heard him talking about how the Navaho women and children would be taken prisoners and forced to march to the rese
rvation in New Mexico. If Sage resisted, he would kill him on the spot. The Navaho had had the chance to leave in peace.
Leonida abhorred what she heard, but knew that she could not say anything that would stop them. Also, she did not know where Sage’s stronghold was, so she could not warn him. She had only one choice—to leave Harold and this dreadful fort along with the other women and children, no matter the risk.
Breathlessly Leonida hurried back to her room. She locked the door behind her, then went to the window and checked to see if the women and children were still there.
