It is humbling to be a part of such kindness, yet a strange line to walk. Being raised Indian but born white. Do they think less of her because of her history?
“I don’t know how to thank you for everything,” Vanessa says softly.
“You have nothing to thank us for. Compassion is a human trait, is it not?” Molly hugs her softly and offers to walk her to the main cabin.
“I don’t know anymore. What kind of human beings kill so mindlessly…” her voice fades as the scream grow louder in her mind. She forces them back and whispers, “Never mind,” before falling quiet.
“Child, I know that look. I’ve seen it reflected in many eyes. You’ve seen the worst in humanity. Allow yourself time to heal. Talk to Harris and let him help you.”
“No. I won’t let Harris get hurt because of me. I don’t even know why he’s here,” she retorts.
“Don’t you?”
Vanessa is shocked by Molly’s bluntness.
“Life is short, Vanessa, as you well know. Anyone with eyes can see that man is crazy about you. At some point, you’re going to have to make a choice. Are you going to live in the past or fight for a new future?”
“Billy asked if he could walk with us,” Melody says knocking on the door and pushing it open, interrupting them.
“That would be nice,” Vanessa walks slowly to the door thankful for the interruption and opens it, stepping out into the fresh air.
“Wow!” Billy jumps up from his chair, “You look beautiful, Ms. Rivers.”
“Thank you, Billy. Call me Vanessa. I feel better, thanks to your family.” Vanessa smiles at the young man.
“Dad’s waiting at the main lodge with your man,” Billy says.
Vanessa flinches at his comment but doesn’t respond. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
“If it’s too hard on you, Ms. Vanessa you just say so, and we will leave, right Mom?” Billy asks.
“Absolutely.”
They walk across the yard slowly, and Vanessa listens to Billy explain about the sheep herding business. “The dress I’m wearing, is it from your sheep?” Vanessa asks.
“Yes, the wool commands a high price,” she explains with pride.
“I’ve never felt anything so soft.” Vanessa runs a hand over the sleeve. “Our clothes come from the buckskin, it is heavier and warmer than this, but not as soft. I’d love to see the process some time.”
They smile at her excitement and walk her up the front steps of a large log cabin. “This is our main house, we use it for meetings, parties, church, weddings, and funerals.”
Inside a massive stone fireplace sets the scene. A huge fire crackles and the men rise when they enter. Harris hurries to her side and offers his arm.
“Thank you,” she murmurs as he walks her to an armchair near the fire. They have tea set out, and Vanessa declines it before looking at Harris.
“What’s going on?” she asks nervously.
“We need to leave in the morning. I think this family deserves to know what they’ve gotten involved with,” Harris explains.
Vanessa glances at the people who saved her life, but fear has her glancing back to him. “Are you staying with me?”
“Of course. You’re safe with me,” Harris promises and takes her hand in his.
“Okay,” she latches on to his, savoring the warmth and comfort before sitting back with relief. “What do you need to know?”
Her trust touches his heart. “I will tell them what I know, and you fill in the rest, okay Ki- I mean Vanessa?” Harris asks.
Trent, Sutton, Trent’s Father all sit back to listen as Harris tells them about Simon, the soldier who came in for treatment. When he speaks about the guns, Vanessa grows agitated.
“General Barclay, that was his name. He wore the uniform of a soldier, but he’s nothing more than a butcher.” Her voice trembles when she speaks. “Harris, he ordered that no one be left alive. Not a woman or child, young or old and they were… ci-pitta. Alive or dead.” Her hands tremble, and she pulls away from him to sip on a cup of water Molly offers.
“Ci-patta,” Harris says hoarsely and covers his face for a moment, struggling to block out the memories of his friends and her family.
“What is ci-pitta?” Trent asks.
When Harris glances up his eyes hold tears, “Butchered, the Shoshone do not have a word for trophy.” Thinking back on the soldiers he saw with bags of body parts he is trembling when he looks to Kimani.
“Dear Lord,” Melody gasps.
“I escaped with the soldier’s help. He gave me his horse and gun, and I ran. I didn’t know they sent trackers after me.”
“Trackers?” Sutton asks with a sinking feeling. “How many?”
“One soldier followed me, he told me that two more were coming. He called them trackers.”
“Why would he tell you that?” Trent asks.
“He tracked me across the river, taunting and threatening me and I shot him. He didn’t die right away.” Shame colors her face, and she glances into the fireplace. “Even in death he thought it was fun to threaten me,” she replies softly.
“What happened to the trackers?” Trent’s father asks.
“I fell asleep or passed out, I don’t know which, but when I woke up, I knew I wouldn’t be able to outrun them. I was sick and injured so I… Harris?” she pleads with tears in her eyes.
“Tell us,” he grips her hand gently in his.
“I set a trap,” the first tear slips free, and she is visibly trembling as she explains. Billy pushes closer to her on the other side and takes her free hand in his.
“That was really smart, Ms. Vanessa,” he encourages her.
“No, not smart,” she shakes their hands away and swipes away a tear angrily from her cheek. “I didn’t
