burning lodge. “She has to be here,” she said, and called Spotted Fawn’s name.
There was no answer.
“We left her?” Lavender said in shock.
“Everything was happening so fast,” Flute Girl said.
“That is no excuse.”
Raven On The Ground blamed herself for not noticing when Spotted Fawn let go of her. “The two of you keep going. I will find her.”
“Be sensible,” Flute Girl said. “If you go back, they will catch you.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“It will be better if we get away and get word to Long Hair,” Flute Girl said. “Let our warriors deal with the whites and bring Spotted Fawn back.”
Raven On The Ground started back, but Lavender grabbed her wrist.
“Please don’t.”
“She is my friend.”
“She is a friend to all of us,” Flute Girl said.
“Please,” Lavender pleaded.
With great reluctance, Raven On The Ground gave in. To keep from thinking about Spotted Fawn, she said, “We have rested long enough.”
On through the night they jogged while around them the wilds were alive with the roars and snarls of predators and the bleats and cries of prey.
Gnawing apprehension ate at Raven On The Ground. Not for herself, but for Spotted Fawn. There was no predicting what the whites would do to her in their anger. They had to know that if they harmed her, Crow warriors would swoop down on the trading post in overwhelming force. That would be the end of the whites. They would get what they deserved.
Geist and his bunch were not like Grizzly Killer, Raven On the Ground reflected. They were vile men with no regard for anyone else. They were worse than the beasts that filled the night around her with so much noise. The beasts were only being true to their natures.
It occurred to Raven On The Ground that Geist and those with him were being true to theirs—and she was more worried than ever.
Chapter Eighteen
Toad’s father had been a doctor. He personally had never had any great love for the profession, although his father had always hoped that he would follow in his footsteps. Blood made Toad squeamish and he couldn’t stand even to chop the head off a chicken. Forget cutting into a human being. But he’d learned how to stitch people up, and Dryfus needed stitching, so he volunteered.
Berber brought Dryfus in and laid him on his back on the floor.
Toad carefully pulled at Dryfus’s shirt. Soaked with blood, the shirt had started to dry, and it clung to Dryfus like a second skin. Toad had Berber fetch hot water while he chose a small knife from the collection in a glass case and tested it by running the edge across his thumb. A thin red line welled. He found thread and a big sewing needle, the kind used to stitch canvas, and proceeded to stick the end of the thread through the eye of the needle and tie it.
Dryfus had his hand over the wound and was grimacing in pain. “The damn bitch!”
“You were lucky,” Toad said. The blade had glanced off a rib, sparing Dryfus from a fatal wound. The cut was deep, but he would live.
“I don’t feel lucky,” Dryfus rasped. “It hurts like hell.”
“You wouldn’t feel anything if you were dead.”
“Quit jabbering and stitch me up.”
The front door opened, and in strode Geist. Petrie was behind him. Geist went to the counter and pounded the top. “The building is a loss. By morning it will be cinders.”
“That’s too bad,” Toad said, although secretly he was delighted.
“Where is she?” Geist snapped at Berber.
“We put her in the storeroom. Gratt is keeping watch. She won’t get away like the others did.”
“No, she sure as hell won’t,” Geist declared. “Burning our building. Trying to kill Dryfus. Who do they think they are?”
“You were holding them against their will,” Toad said. “It’s stupid to blame them for trying to get away.”
Geist wheeled and came over. His face had an icy cast and his fists were balled. “Stupid, am I?”
“I didn’t mean you personally,” Toad said. “I meant stupid in general.”
Geist turned to Petrie. “Ever notice how their kind twists words to suit them?”
“They do it all the time.”
“My kind?” Toad asked.
“One of us is stupid and it’s not me.” In a blur Geist drew a pistol, gripped it by the barrel, and savagely clubbed Toad. Once, twice, a third time, and Toad buckled and would have fallen, except that he thrust an arm against a shelf for support.
“No more,” Toad said.
Geist raised the pistol to hit him again. “I’ve had my fill of you.”
Succor came from an unexpected source—Dryfus. “Kill him if you have to, but he was fixing to stitch me up and I sorely need to be stitched.”
Geist glanced down and then slowly let his arm drop, his whole body shaking from the violence of his rage. “For you I’ll stop. But the next time he insults me we bury him and I run the mercantile myself.”
“Too bad,” Petrie said. “I’d have liked to see you bash his brains out.”
Toad fought off nausea and dizziness. “I rue the day we met,” he said.
Still glaring, Geist shoved the pistol under his belt. “I’d shut my mouth, if I were you. You’re this close to buying the farm.” He held a thumb and a finger a fraction apart. “Now then.” He turned to the others. “We have a bigger problem than Levi. The three who got away will make for their village. We have to stop them. They’re on foot, so they can’t move fast. I figure if we head out at first light, we can have them back here by the end of the day.”
“Are all of us going?” Berber asked.
“Use your damn head. Gratt will stay to make sure Levi behaves himself. In the meantime…” Geist hitched at his belt. “I’ll go have a talk with that little red fluff in the storeroom.”
“You won’t hurt her?” Toad said.
Geist put his hand on his pistol and made as if to jerk it. “Want a second helping?”
Toad shook his head and was racked by another wave of nausea. His stomach flip-flopped and he swallowed bile.
“I didn’t think so. Get to work on Dryfus and do a good job.” Geist turned toward the hall. Grinning, he made a smacking sound with his lips. “You know, boys, all this excitement has made me randy.”
Spotted Fawn had never been so afraid. She stood in a corner of the small room the whites had thrown her in and fearfully watched the white man by the door. He was leaning back, his arms folded, and didn’t seem the least bit interested in her.
She should have run, Spotted Fawn told herself. When she lost hold of Raven On The Ground, she shouldn’t have stood there in the smoke wondering which way to go. She should have just run.
There was a thump on the door. The man leaning against it straightened and opened the door. Geist stormed in. He said something, and the other white man grinned and went out, closing the door behind him. Smiling, Geist came toward her.
Spotted Fawn backed up as far as she could go. She glanced left and right, but there was nothing but shelves
