The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

13: Into the Fire

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Jesse by Diego Candia. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

Finding himself with his hands tied again didn't do much to help calm Jesse's state of near panic. He suspected that they'd done it for show, because the rawhide Eagle Bone and his sisters used to bind his hands in front of him was loose enough that he probably could free himself if he tried. Which was fortunate, because he hadn't fully realized how badly he'd abraded and bruised his wrists and hands back in the cave, and being bound that tightly again would have most likely been extremely painful. He knew there was no point trying to escape. Even if he'd managed to free himself, slip out of the travois, and take off running, Eagle Bone would easily chase him down on his horse and things would only go from bad to worse.

The scowling brave did not like him. He didn't have to be fluent in Lakota to figure that out. For the moment, he was still breathing and still in possession of his scalp. He wanted to keep it that way.

The travois simply added to his sense of helplessness, and he hated it. Not only did he feel that he was at least strong enough to ride a horse, but every bump and bounce of the supporting poles over the landscape jolted him hard enough to nearly shake his teeth loose. His captors had padded the travois with blankets, covered him over, and criss-crossed rawhide across him to keep him from falling out of the thing. They'd been kind enough to him...after all, they'd saved his life, nursed him through a fever, shared their food with him and dressed him in their own clothing. But if he had harbored any hope that he was a guest rather than a captive, that hope was gone now.

The child, whose name he'd figured out meant something along the lines of Runs Laughing, stayed close to him on her pony, as did her sister Still Water Woman. He could see the blond scalp hanging from Eagle Bone's horse and felt sick panic beginning to sour his stomach. Desperate to focus on something else, he glanced over at Still Water Woman. She was watching him with her dark, warm eyes, and when her gaze met his, she favored him with a comforting smile and a gentle murmur. This woman ain't gonna let anything happen, he told himself. Look at her. She's kind and beautiful and has a little sister. They coulda left me to die, but they didn't.

He could smell smoke and roasting meat, and heard the sounds of voices. Instinctively, he tried to crane his head and look behind him, but could see nothing but the spotted hips of the horse pulling the travois. There's an Indian camp ahead. He'd started to breathe a little faster, fear making his heart pound. But then...Williams Station...

The horse pulling him stopped. He heard running feet, excited voices, laughter. Still Water Woman and her sister dismounted, hurrying to free him from the travois and helping him to stand as a knot of running children clamored around them.

Still Water Woman slipped an arm around him and he leaned on her, his legs weak and shaking. Eagle Bone strode by and grabbed dangling end of the rope that bound his hands, tossing it to Runs Laughing with a wry smirk on his face.

The delighted laughter of children filled his ears. Small hands tugged at his hair, touched his hands and face, pulled and buffeted him. I might have expected a lot of things to happen right now, but being a sideshow exhibit for a passel of youngins wasn't one of them.

Rather than pulling on the rope, Runs Laughing nodded her head towards the village that lay ahead. Jesse started forwards, still leaning on Still Water Woman, and let the child lead him.

The village sprawled out before them, the lodges huge and pale in the sunlight. He wasn't sure what he expected, exactly, but it certainly bore no resemblance to the pastoral scene before him. He was trembling, and Still Water Woman tightened her arm around him, murmuring encouragingly to him again in her sweet, musical language. Her presence gave him courage, and he concentrated on putting one foot ahead of the other. He suddenly realized that they'd bound him to make him appear as little of a threat as possible, to let everyone know he was completely harmless and under their control. They got me so outnumbered and overpowered it's not even worth saying. Why rub it in? Why make this much show of the fact that I'm no threat to them?

The sudden rush of understanding hit him like a right hook to the face. I'm not the only one who's afraid. They're afraid, too. And if they decide it's me they're afraid of... the massacre at Williams station flashed through his head again and he winced. Then I won't make it out of here alive.

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