TRAIL OF DREAMS
TRAIL OF DREAMS© Courtnee
But now, nothing would interfere with his plans. Nothing.
For miles after the wagon train pulled back onto the Oregon Trail and away from
Ft. Laramie, they passed by a veritable cemetery of abandoned furniture and
old empty wooden boxes that had once been filled with food. This was known as
a dumping ground to those immigrants who had too much weight on their wagons
and no place to sell it.
Lou sat on the seat of the wagon. As she drove past, she sadly watched many
immigrants adding their own treasures to the graveyard. One woman in particular
caught Lou's attention. She stood beside a wagon, tears streaming down her cheeks
while her husband threw aside a beautiful wooden valise.
The only words she could hear over the loud creaking of the wagons were, "That
belonged to Mama before…"
Lou had to bite back a rush of tears that threatened. Theresa was never far
from her thoughts. Everything reminded her of her sweet little sister. Jeremy
refused to ride his new horse, so he rode beside her now.
"Lou, do ya think Buck is gonna find her?"
Lou didn't know how honest or blunt to be. Jeremy was still so young, but he
was growing into a man real fast. She decided to be straight with him. "Jeremy,
I think Buck's gonna give it his best shot. I've known 'im for a while now,
and I've learned he don't give up. If she's out there, he'll find her."
Jeremy turned his wide brown eyes towards her, "Do ya think Injuns got
her? Teaspoon says their bent on hurtin' us white folks 'cause of what we did
to 'em."
"Jeremy, we've done a lot a bad things, unforgivable things, to the Indians.
But, I don't think they'd hurt a child out of hate for whites."
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders, not quite as sure as Lou, about that. "I
hope she's al'right."
"Me too, Jeremy." Lou whispered under breath, "Me too."
Theresa sank to the ground in relief. She'd stumbled onto the Oregon Trail,
distinguishable by its telltale ruts and grooves. And she recognized where she
was. She had somehow backtracked nearly half a day's travel to a point before
Ft. Laramie.
Now all she had to do was follow the trail back to the fort. But, she wondered
if it would help any. Surely the train had pulled out in the morning sometime,
although if the express wagons had gone too she didn't know.
A look up in the sky showed Theresa it was late afternoon. She climbed to her
feet and steadily began her journey back to the fort. She wanted to get as far
as she could before night fell. She fought back the tears that had been threatening
all day. Scared, tired, and lonely were feelings that had become her constant
companions. And they didn't make good bedfellows.
Theresa walked on through the evening and into the night. She wasn't planning
on stopping. The more miles she ate up, the sooner her destination would be
attainable. To keep the sleep away, Theresa thought about food. Nothing sounded
better than some hot beef soup. And maybe some of those grapes Rachel had picked
back in that valley.
She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice at first the prickling sensation
that stood the hairs on the back of her neck at attention. But, as the warning
pushed it's way up through the delicious thought of foods, Theresa had the distinct
impression that someone or something was following her.
She strained her ears to listen above the soft noises her own feet were making,
but the rapidly pounding beat of her heart blocked out any other sounds. Panic
clouded her mind, sending her feet into a faster pace. Before long, she was
running along the trail, feeling in her bones that her stalker was getting closer,.
She couldn't bring up the courage to cast a backward glance at her pursuer.
But soon, she heard the familiar sound of horse beats. Could it be her family,
come to rescue her from this nightmare?
Bravely she threw a glance over her shoulder, one she came to regret. The sight
of a man, with an evil grin, stared back at her. She screamed her fright, just
before the man flew by grabbing her atop his horse.
Theresa fainted in his arms.
Buck knelt beside his horse. He had been following Theresa's trail until it
lead back to the Oregon Trail. Now, in the fading light of the day, he was puzzled.
Theresa's footprints were still there, but they were joined by a second set.
Theresa's had faded a little more than the second set. Which meant she was being
followed, but, by who?
He didn't think it was an Indian, because the hoof-prints showed the animal
was shod. Most Indians didn't shoe their horses. Now the question was, is she
in any danger?
Buck quickly stood up and mounted his horse. He would not take any chances.
He kicked him into a fast lope; no longer was there a need to track Theresa,
for she was no doubt following the Oregon Trail back to Ft. Laramie.
About fifteen minutes into his ride, Buck heard the piercing sound of a scream.
He couldn't gauge how far away it was because the land here was flat. It could
carry on and on for miles. He sent his horse into a gallop, oblivious to the
deep ruts that could wipe him out at any misplaced stride.
The strong smell of smoke reached Buck's nose, before the light from its fire
ever came into view. Becoming one with the night, he silently dismounted the
horse, and crept up as close as he dared.
There, seated across the fire, hands and feet tied and her mouth gagged, sat
Theresa. Even from where Buck hid, he could see the fright in her eyes, could
see her trembling with fear. Her captor had his back turned to Buck. Even so,
Buck felt there was something familiar about the man, though he couldn't quite
place it.
"My, ain't you a pretty site ta behold."
Theresa flinched at the look of lust in the man's cold eyes. She knew what
that look meant, and she could just kick herself for ever getting involved in
this mess. Her stomach growled a hungry protest as the man lazily chewed on
jerky. Of course, he hadn't thought to offer her anything, not that she'd except
if he did. But she was so hungry and thirsty.
"Now, just what would a pretty li'l thing like you be doing way out here,
in the middle of nowhere? Surely you belong to someone." Pete pulled a
small flask from a hidden pocket inside his jacket. Uncorking the bottle, he
took a long swig of the strong whisky. He'd been drinking its contents for most
of the day. He grinned, a crooked row of teeth flashing in the firelight, as
the liquid blazed a trail down his throat. "That ain't any no how, cause
yer mine now."
Theresa clinched her eyes shut, hoping that when she opened them again she
would be safe in her bedroll back on the wagon train. And all this would have
just been a bad dream, a horrible nightmare. But upon opening her eyes, her
captor was still peering obscenely at her through the dancing flames. He lifted
the whisky to his lips once more, then followed it with the last of the tough
jerky.
"What's yer name, girl?"
Theresa didn't say a word, couldn't because the man's dirty handkerchief was
stuffed in her mouth. She averted her gaze to a point located somewhere in the
dark night.
This angered Pete. He didn't allow women or children to disobey his commands.
The whisky had taken effect, for he didn't realize the girl was still gagged.
He squinted his eyes at her as he swallowed the last of the chewed jerky. Corking
the flask, he jumped to his feet. The bottle dropped from his drunken hands,
falling harmlessly at his feet.
He stepped around the fire and angrily jerked the girl to her feet, forcing
her to look into his eyes. The fright that was openly reflected in them gave
him a giddy feeling of power. This is what gave him pleasure, the power of control.
Theresa craned her head as far back on her neck as was possible. He was going
to strike her; she felt it deep within her heart. And there was nothing she
could do to stop it.
Buck jumped to his feet. He had been formulating a plan in his head. But all
that no longer mattered. Theresa was in danger. Disgusted and tired, Buck made
his move. He had his gun and knife in hand within a blink of the eye.
"I'll teach ya, girl, not to disobey me." He raised his fist, intent
on plowing her face with it. But a second idea reared it head. It would be a
pity to beat her before he'd had her. Roughly, he threw her to the ground. She
landed on her back, sprawled temptingly inviting him to have his way with her.
Theresa stared up at him. Relieved he hadn't hit her. But the relief quickly
ebbed, as she understood what was about to happen. She shuddered as he dropped
down on top of her. His hands groped along her young body, his mouth searched
hungrily for hers. She was paralyzed with fear, but soon basic instinct took
reign. She bucked and kicked her body, trying to dislodge the invader. She thrashed
her head from side to side, attempting to escape the advances of his lips.
Pete stayed the bucking child. He'd done this many times before. In fact, he
liked it like this. Suddenly she went limp beneath him, she'd fainted from fear.
He lifted his head and let roar a deep throaty laughter.
Buck ran heedlessly into the ring of light. He would kill this man. Rage blinded
Buck as he let fly a kick that landed true to his aim. The man went flying through
the air, landing a few feet from Theresa. Buck stood for a moment starring at
his unmoving body. Then he bent to Theresa, cupping her small face in his big
hand. She was still out cold. He could see where tears had left trails on her
dirty cheeks.
Slowly Theresa became aware of her predicament. She could feel the warm touch
of the crazed man on her cheeks. But, she was too terrified to open her eyes.
She twisted out of his grasp; determine to fight till the death.
Buck jumped, surprised for a moment. "Theresa. Theresa, its Buck. I'm
not going to hurt you."
Theresa was too filled with panic to listen to Bucks words. She screamed, the
sound dying behind the barrier of the handkerchief.
"Theresa! Look at me!"
Theresa stilled. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was safe now.
The voice echoed in her mind, until reality broke, like a candle in the darkness,
into her petrified thoughts. Buck?
Buck quickly tore the gag from her mouth, its mark clearly noticed by the angry
red skin it had irritated. He lifted her into his arms, cutting the bonds from
her hands and feet with his knife.
Theresa opened her eyes. Relief left her weak. As the ropes that had restrained
her fell free, she threw her arms around Buck's neck. A flood of tears broke
through the dam, wetting her face and Buck's neck.
Buck was embarrassed. He didn't know what to do with his arms. He didn't know
what to say.
Theresa resorted to whispering Buck's name over and over. Whether he wanted
it or not, he had just gained her young heart.
Pete Sanders lay face down. He could hear what was going on behind him. Buck!
That damned half-breed was going to get what he deserved. But, not on this night
because all his weapons were on the other side of the camp. Quietly, Pete crawled
to his feet. That girl had Buck's full attention. Good, escape was easily within
his grasp.
He crept the short distance to his horse. He didn't have his saddle or bridle,
but that wouldn't matter. He could always pick one up along the way. He catapulted
onto his horse, grasping a chunk of the mane.
Buck heard the rustle of grass to his left. One glance in front of him revealed
the enemy's absence. He could barely make out the outline of the man atop the
horse. Leveling his gun at the figure, Buck slowly pulled the trigger. Angrily
he watched as the man disappeared in the darkness, the hoof-beats pounding away
into the night. He tried to jump to his feet, but Theresa held him tight.
"Buck! Please don't leave me alone! Please!" Theresa resorted to
repeating the phrase, pleading not to be left behind. She couldn't handle it;
she'd go crazy.
Buck slowly gave in. His heart went out to the child. But he didn't like leaving
a man like that to roam free. Didn't like it at all.
