Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 11

“You don’t want to know. But he is upset that you compared yourself to a Ndeh hero when you are not Ndeh.”

“So I’ll compare myself to . . . to . . .” Grace couldn’t think of any white women who had avenged their families. In their cabin, though, Foxe’s Book of Martyrs had stood on the fireplace mantel with the Bible and the primer. She narrowed her eyes. “Tell him I’m like Joan of Arc.”

Before Joe had gotten out more than a few words, Tarak stalked off. But not before sending one more hate-filled glance her way.

Grace shivered. She clearly had at least one enemy in this camp. How many more were less open about it? She shook her head, irritated.

What had she done to anger him?

She turned to Joe. “Why does he hate me so much?”

“It’s not you. It’s any paleface. He lost his whole family in that raid I told you about. The soldiers tortured and killed his father, then . . .” He hesitated, looking at Grace. “Then they raped his mother and sister before slitting their throats. The whole time two men held Tarak down, forcing him to watch. Afterward they tortured and knifed Tarak and left him for dead. He still bears the scars.”

Grace stared at Tarak’s retreating back. So that was the reason for the ugly scars on his chest. The scars inside must be worse. After a pause, Joe continued, “Cheis adopted him the same way he adopted me.”

At least he had a family to take him in. That was more than Grace had. “So he hates me because I’m a paleface? We’re not all the same, you know.”

Joe raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, remember how you thought of the Apache?”

Grace sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

He stared off into the distance. “From the beginning, he hated me for the color of my skin. And when Cheis adopted me, Tarak made my life miserable until Cheis found out and made him stop. I think now he’s worried that Cheis will adopt you.”

“I hope you made it clear that I don’t intend to stay. As soon as Bullet is well enough to travel, I’ll be on my way.”

“I haven’t had a chance. You saw how he walked away.” Joe smacked his fist into his palm. “He does that any time I try to talk to him.”

While Grace and Joe were talking, the hunters farther down the path talked among themselves, and then one approached Joe. The two of them talked seriously for a few minutes and then Joe nodded.

He turned to Grace. “They have asked me to tell you to stay with the women. Gather wood, pick nuts and berries, scrape buffalo hides.”

“And you agreed with them?” Grace’s words were edged with indignation.

“I’ve already explained how the Ndeh decide things, Grace,” he said, though she could tell he felt conflicted. “It’s a group decision. The hunters don’t want a girl to join them. I’m sorry.”

Grace bit her lip to hold back an angry retort. It wasn’t Joe’s fault, but it still made her blood boil.

Joe held out an imploring hand. “Try to understand. Ndeh women can hunt small game like woodrats or
rabbits, but they don’t go on hunts like this. We’re not just doing a short hunt; we’ll be gone for days. And we’ll be sneaking through enemy territory.” His eyes glittered. “This is the first bison hunt the band has attempted for a long time. You can’t blame them for not wanting a new hunter along.”

“But —” The word burst out of her, but before she could finish, Joe held up a hand.

“I know, I know. You’re a good hunter. Not as good as me, of course.” He grinned to let her know he was only teasing.