Chapter One Kentucky Wilderness -- October,1784
The forest closed around the motley array of wagons, horses and people. Four wagons, in good repair, stood to one side, oxen grazing nearby, while two carriages, once pretty things, were barely standing on their high wheels. Tired women went about the chore of preparing supper while the men looked after the animals. A group of children was playing within sight of the adults.
"I can't tell you how glad I am to be rid of some of this heat. It's the sea I miss." Mrs. Watson stood, putting a hand on the small of her back to ease her stomach and the child that would soon be born. "Where's Linnet, Miranda?" she asked the woman across the fire from her.
"She's playing with the children again." The smaller woman's voice had a clear, English accent, so different from her companion's slurred words.
"Oh, I see her now." Mrs. Watson shielded her eyes from the glare of the setting sun. "If a body didn't know better, you wouldn't be able to tell which was the children and which was Linnet." She watched the girl, holding hands in a circle, no taller than the half-grown children for all her twenty years, a loose dress covering the young curves of her body, the same curves that had sent Mrs. Watson's oldest boy to the Tyler wagon so many times. "You know, Miranda, you and Amos ought to talk to Linnet. It's high time she had some young'uns of her own, 'stead of takin' on everybody else's."
Miranda Tyler smiled. "You're welcome to try, but Linnet has her own mind. Besides, to be honest, I'm not so sure young men are ready to take on the responsibility of my daughter."
Mrs. Watson looked away and gave an embarrassed little laugh. "I'm afraid you're right. Not that there's anything wrong with Linnet, she's certainly pretty enough, but it's just the way she looks at a man, something about the way she stares at him and the way she always seems to be able to take care of herself. Mind if I sit a spell? My back hurts more every minute."
"Certainly, Ellen. Amos set a stool out for me."
The heavy woman sat, knees apart, as she tried to balance her huge stomach. "Now where was I?" She either didn't see or pretended not to see Miranda's frown. "Oh yes, I was talking about Linnet, the way she unnerves men. I did try to talk to her once, tried to explain how men like to feel they're somethin' special. Now look over yonder to Prudie James."
Miranda did as she was told before returning her attention to the pot of beans.
"Now there isn't a time of the day when Prudie isn't surrounded by young men," Ellen continued. "She's not near as much to look at as your Linnet, but she always has the boys. Remember last week when Prudie was stung by a wasp? Four boys ran to help her."
Miranda Tyler looked across the clearing to her daughter, her lips curving in a fond smile. She had her own memories, such as the time the little Parker boy had left the camp alone. Linnet had been the one who found him and had risked her own life to wedge herself under those loose rocks and bring the terrified boy to safety. Mrs. Watson could have all her Prudies she wanted.
"Of course, I'm not sayin' anything against Linnet, she's shore been a big help to me, it's just that I...well, I want to see her happy, with a man of her own."
"I'm grateful for your concern, Ellen, but I'm sure Linnet will find a husband someday and I'm sure he'll be to her liking. Would you excuse me, please?"
The only warning they had was a dog's yip, cut off in the middle, but even that wasn't heard since the children were laughing in glee as they waited excitedly for the thimble to be secretly placed in their waiting hands.
The Indian raiders had long ago learned the benefit of surprise, attacking when the tired men and women were most relaxed, least vigilant. The men on guard had been easy to kill, their throats slashed in one clean, silent stroke. All that remained were the women, a few young adults, and the children. The children were what was of most interest to them, and two young braves were sent to tie and secure them.
Linnet, like the others, was paralyzed with shock. Her head turned sharply at a muffled cry, and she saw Prudie James fall to a heap on the ground. People began running then, trying hopelessly to escape the Indian men who seemed to be everywhere.
Linnet saw her mother take a step forward. Linnet put out her arms and began to run. If she could catch her mother, hold her, everything would be all right. "Mother!" she screamed.
Something hit her foot, and she slammed forward, the hard ground knocking the breath from her. Dazed, she tried to recover herself, feeling a moment of panic when her breath did not return right away. She blinked her eyes, seeing everything spin. As she turned her head, she tasted blood in her mouth from where her teeth had sunk into her lip when she'd fallen. Her mother lay quietly on the ground, near the fire, close to Mrs. Watson. They might have been napping, so ordinary did they seem, except the ground around them was a growing pool of a thick, red substance.
"Linnet! Linnet!" Screams came from behind her as a hand roughly pulled her to her feet and pushed her toward the children. Little Ulysses Johnson ran to her, his arms wrapped about her legs, his tears wetting her skirt and his little body shaking horribly. He was pulled from her by one of the Indians. When the child fell, the man jerked the boy's arm so that he cried out in pain.
"No!" Linnet ran to the boy, knelt before him and smoothed the dirt from his face. "I think they mean to take us with them. You'll be brave, Uly? We'll all be together, whatever happens. I don't think they'll hurt us if we obey them. Do you understand, Uly?"
"Yes," came his jerky reply. "My Ma..."
"I know..." One of the Indians pushed her, pulling her hands behind her back, tying them tightly with the cutting, rawhide rope. She tried not to look at the carnage to her right, to the body of her mother, or to think of her father who had been on guard duty. She faced her eyes ahead to the six children in front of her.
It had been only minutes, yet their lives were forever changed. Patsy Gallagher fell, dragging Uly with her, and screamed when the Indian pulled her by her ties to her feet, the thin leather cutting her wrists. Ulysses began to cry again, and all the children stared at the fires the Indians had started and the bloody messes that had been their parents.
Linnet began to sing. Quietly at first, but with a slow, steady persistence that first one child and then another began to join: "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee."
They began walking, stumbling, falling often, as they marched slowly into the wilderness, tied together in a single, awkward line.
Linnet held Ulysses in her arms, the child's limp body as much unconscious as asleep. They'd been traveling for three days with little rest and less food. The two younger children looked as if they couldn't last much longer, and Linnet had persuaded one of the Indians, the leader, to allow her to carry the boy on her back. She moved her toes now, aware of the blisters, the many cuts. She was hungry, but she'd given half her cornmeal to Ulysses, and still he had whimpered for more. She stroked his forehead, aware that he was becoming feverish.
There were five Indians, sullen men, who demanded what they wanted and always got their demands. When Linnet had slowed her step because of the added weight of the heavy five-year-old on her back, they had prodded her with sharp sticks, forcing her to keep pace. Now she was too weary to sleep, her body hurting in too many places.
One of the Indians turned toward her and she hastily closed her eyes. Several times she had seen them pointing at her and talking, and she knew they discussed her.
It wasn't light yet when the seven captives were pulled to their feet and made to begin another day's journey. Near sunset, the Indians led them to a stream, waist deep, and pulled them into it.
"I'm scared, Linnet. I don't like the water," Uly said.
"I'll carry him." Linnet gestured to the man at the end of the line. He cut the connecting leather, and Ulysses climbed onto her back.
The other children were already on the far side when Linnet slipped and fell into the water. Instantly, one of the men cut the line that connected her to the others -- they would not risk losing all their prisoners if one should chance to drown. Linnet had a difficult time pulling the hysterical, fighting Ulysses to shore, and when she did, she lay back on the ground panting from her exertions.
"Linnet! What are they saying?" Patsy Gallagher demanded.
Linnet looked up to see two of the men pointing at her and gesturing wildly. He called another man, the leader, and she saw the anger on this man's face. Still dazed by her struggle in the water, she took a long time to realize that they pointed at her chest. The wet garment clung to her, emphasizing her full breasts. She crossed her hands to cover herself.
"Linnet!" Patsy screamed as one of the Indians advanced on her angrily.
She moved her arms quickly to cover her face from the first blow, but could not shield herself from the bard kicks to her ribs. She doubled in pain as more blows fell.
The Indians spewed angry words at her, and one hand turned her to her back, her bruised, maybe broken, ribs causing her to catch her breath sharply. The man tore her dress away to the waist, exposing her to him. What be saw seemed to make him even more angry. He doubled his fist, but Linnet never saw it land across her jaw.
"Linnet, wake up!"
She stirred slightly, wondering where she was.
"Linnet, they let me take care of you. Here, sit up and put this on. It's Johnnie's shirt."
"Patsy?" she whispered.
"Oh, Linnet, you look awful! Your face is all swollen and..." The girl sniffed and pulled her friend to a sitting position as she shoved her arms into the coarse linsey-woolsey shirt. "Linnet, talk to me. Are you all right?"
"I think so. They let you come? I thought they would leave me...
