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She then saw a closed door, which surely led to the back where she would probably find the cells in even worse condition.
Her nose curled at the foul odor emanating from the sheriff as he stood before her, blocking her view. His beady eyes squinted above a thick, dark mustache that had chewing tobacco clinging to the tips.
“What’s your business here?” Sheriff Jed Nolan asked, his voice a growl. He glanced down at the basket clutched in Elizabeth’s right hand. “What’s in that basket? Somethin’ to help you break out one of your gentlemen friends, huh?”
Elizabeth didn’t get a chance to reply. The sheriff grabbed the basket from her and threw the cloth aside, and peered down at the books and fruit.
Then he looked slowly up at Elizabeth. “Books?” he said, tossing the basket aside, spilling its contents. “Fruit? Who are you, anyhow? What do you want here?”
Elizabeth stared blankly down at the spilled contents of her basket. Then a slow burn began within her and she turned angry eyes up at the man. “You had no right to do that,” she said, placing her fists on her hips. “I came here out of the goodness of my heart to help lighten the burden of those less fortunate. I pity those who are under your care. You don’t deserve the title of sheriff. I would think it would have to be earned. What have you done, sir, to earn it? But I’m sure I don’t want to know the answers. Such a man as you gets what he wants by—”
Elizabeth’s words were cut short when Sheriff Nolan grabbed her by the wrists and quickly wrestled her to the floor, where he proceeded to straddle her. “What are you doing?” she screamed, squirming to get free. “Let me up, do you hear? Let . . . me . . . up!”
The sheriff brushed her lips with a wet kiss, his body holding her in place as one of his hands went to the swell of her breast and began mashing it through the silk fabric of her dress. “You’ve got a big mouth,” Sheriff Nolan grumbled, staring down at her with lustful blue eyes. “Let’s see what else you have that I might find more pleasant.”
Elizabeth managed to get a hand free, raised it and slapped him across the face.
She sucked in a wild breath of air when she saw a sudden angry fire leap into his eyes. He in turn slapped her across the face, and followed by crushing her mouth with his hungry, wet lips. His tongue assaulted her as it pressed in and out between her unwilling lips.
And then, as quick as lightning striking, someone else was there in the room. Elizabeth saw a man, whose face was partially hidden behind a bandanna, strike the sheriff over the head with the butt of his pistol.
The sheriff collapsed unconscious on top of her. Elizabeth screamed and began pushing at his chest. The stranger yanked the sheriff off, tossing him away from her.
Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. Then she realized that she should still be afraid. It was apparent from his mask that the stranger who had saved her was not there for any good reason. When he stepped closer to her, she quaked.
Elizabeth stared at the hooded eyes above the bandanna, seeing something familiar about them. And when he told her in a whisper to leave, there was something about the voice that compelled her to want to see his face.
Without thought of the outcome of her action, Elizabeth yanked the man’s bandanna down, revealing his face. She became weak in the knees when she saw that it was whom she had thought it to be: The handsome Indian!
Sighing resolutely, Strong Heart pushed the brim of his sombrero back from his brow with the barrel of his pistol. “What you have done is me-sah-chie, bad. You shouldn’t have interfered,” he said with annoyance. “Now that you’ve seen me, I have no choice but to take you with me. I can’t leave you behind to describe me to the authorities. Why didn’t you leave when I told you to?”
Elizabeth was numb from the discovery. She didn’t understand when Strong Heart told her to get the keys from the sheriff’s pocket, then take them to the cells, and release the Indian, Four Winds.
When Elizabeth did not obey him, Strong Heart took a step closer and gestured toward the sheriff who still lay unconscious on the floor. “Hy-ak, make haste,” he grumbled. “Get the keys from the cultus, worthless man.”
“I can’t do that,” Elizabeth said, her voice quavering. “That would be breaking the law. I would become a criminal.” She gave him a glare. “Just like you. You’re a criminal, aren’t you? A renegade Indian, just like the Indian you want me to set free.”
“Nah, look here,” Strong Heart answered, bending to get the keys himself, “this is not the time to discuss who I am, or why I am here.” He turned his gray eyes up at her as he handed her the keys. “If we don’t get out of here soon, the deputy will arrive. I would soon be hanging alongside Four Winds. Is that what you want? That I die, also?”
The keys seemed like hot coals burning her palm. She glanced down at them, then up into Strong Heart’s eyes as he rose slowly to his feet.
Then, knowing from the depths of her heart that she wanted nothing to happen to him, she spun around and moved quickly toward the closed door that led to the cells. Strong Heart was suddenly there, opening the door for her. She stopped long enough to look deep into his eyes. She felt as if she were drowning in them, they were so dark with feelings that she knew were for her, for he had looked at her in the same way before.
“Set Four Winds free,” Strong Heart said, his voice soft, yet commanding.
Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded her head, then stepped into a gloomy corridor lined with a long row of cells which housed both men and women. Hands reached out for her. Women cried and wailed as they saw her, begging her to set them free. Men cursed underneath their breaths. Then she caught sight of one who stood quiet, his eyes probing hers.
Elizabeth knew that this was Four Winds, for he was the only Indian inside this horror chamber. She stared at him, thinking that he looked no more dangerous than the other Indian. Yet being in jail was proof that he was a criminal—a criminal awaiting his death at the end of a rope.
Suddenly his face was replaced in Elizabeth’s mind with the handsome Indian’s. It was he who was hanging from the platform, not Four Winds. It was him swaying in the gentle breeze, the flies crawling on his dead eyes.
The vision spurred Elizabeth into quick action. She went to Four Winds’s cell. Clumsily she tried one key after another, sighing with relief when she finally found the one that fit, and set him free.
/> Many cries and jeers followed Elizabeth and Four Winds as they fled to the outer room. Elizabeth dropped the keys on the desk, turned and stared up into the handsome Indian’s face which was alight with admiration and gratitude. Then all three hurriedly left the prison.
Elizabeth didn’t object when she was placed in the handsome Indian’s saddle. She knew that she had no choice. She didn’t object when he swung himself into the saddle behind her, his arm circling her waist to hold her as he and Four Winds rode away.
Again, she had no choice.
