Foothills to Freedom

Jane awoke by the jerk of a rope around her waist. Hands bound, mouth gagged, she was unable to protest. With wild eyes and flared nostrils, she breathed in the dead rot of the forest floor. Then her eyes settled on the captain's sharkish ones.


He sat stoic and stiff on his horse, while the other men mounted theirs. Jane was tossed on a horse and held in place. Jane saved her spit like venom for the captain she had trusted as a fatherly figure. While adjusting his wide-brimmed hat, he looked away and said nothing.

As the runaway rebels filed down the mountains trail, Captain Roberts rode back to Jane. With tears in her eyes, she choked on the rag buried in her mouth. With his gloved hand, he put his finger to his lips as a sign to keep quiet, then he dug the rag from her mouth. She knew enough not to scream, or the Indians would be on them. She spat on his beard with a look that sent him to hell.

The captain lifted in his saddle and plucked a hanky from his pocket to wipe his beard. He spoke with a hushed tone. "I'm sorry, Miss, but we have an uneasy alliance with those Indians you named last night, but one, nonetheless. I would let you go, unfortunately this has put me between a rock and a hard place."

Jane thrashed about on the horse and kicked it's sides, but the one young rebel with grey eyes and a peach fuzz face held the horse in place and walked her on the trail down the mountain. He said nothing, his face looked soured, as if he forgot how to smile. The captain whispered in the lad's ear and rode back to the front.

The rebels snaked their way down the mountain trail where Jane listened and heard the sound of the river flowing eastward where she expected it to roll into the foothills and open plains within a matter of hours. Her stomach churned. Her heart ticked with shallow beats, as if set to explode with each moment. Her freedom appeared to be snatched away by the grip of a hawkish leader.

Jane sometimes nodded off in her saddle. The one young rebel, barely a man had to nudge her from falling. Now and then the young soldier looked at her with pity in his eyes, as he tugged on the reins. Jane spoke softly. "I need to use nature's privy."

The man looked back, as if he wasn't sure what she said.

"I need to take a leak."

He nodded, but quietly kept on.

The band of men came to a clearing where the river's torrent slowed. Horses drank from the water. Men dismounted and filled their skins. But the young man wouldn't take his eyes off her. He pulled her from the horse with her hands bound. He pointed to a nest of weeds.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Billy. You best do your business, Ma'am."

"You got family?"

"Captain and them, are my family. Miss, please go relieve yourself, we must be on our way soon."

Jane stumbled over into the weeds. Other men craned their necks. Billy stayed close enough to listen if she darted away. Heart racing, she eyed a path to run. Billy parted the weeds with his head turned. "Ma'am, please. Trust me. Do as I say, and I will cut you free. But you have to get back and not breath a word."

The Men along with their sinister grins mounted and they continued the trek on the trail until slipping through a crevice between boulders. Suddenly the prairie opened up before them. Jane's eyes ached to see how close she was to the trail that could lead her home. Would he truly set me free? Did he say this to keep me in line?

The sky was robin blue with waver thin clouds on the horizon. The men stopped for a moment and also took in the change of landscape. The foothills were before them like mole hills compared to the descent from the craggy mountain. And from the view, Jane could see for miles where her freedom could sooner be found. Her heart lurched inside, as if to leap at the chance to break free. She looked at Billy, hoping to see a sign. There was nothing but an empty stare. She feared he told her she would be set free, to keep me calm. She was dizzy with fear.

In the distant foothills, painted warriors rode on spotted horses. Jane didn't need to look twice to know a trade would take place between the confederate soldiers and the tribe. Fear ignited a fire to flee. Just then, Billy tugged on her horse and lead them into the bushes and on to another trail. She dared to look back, only to see the captain saluting her. It was then she knew, he intended to set her free and take his chances with the tribe.

Billy lead Jane down an uneven trail of gravel where stones slipped beneath the horse. He pulled a knife from his sheath and cut the rope from her hands. "Captain changed his mind, he needed to keep the men in line, but told me to let you go when they all had their backs to you."

Jane looked back but breathed a sigh. She turned to Billy. "You're a good man, Billy. I hope one day you can set down roots somewhere and make a life for yourself. And tell the captain, I'd take back the spit on his face if I could."

Billy nodded. "Yes um, Ma'am."

Jane swallowed a knot in her throat and kicked the sides of the horse with no more time left to look back if she wanted to stay free and live. Several hard turns later she found herself in a meadow circled by white elms. Holding her breath, she dug her heels into the horse and raced across the opening. She slowed to trot and slipped past the skinny elms until the flatlands of the prairie were within her grasp.

Trotting out into the clearing, Jane turned to see a scouting party of Indians. If she died it would be on the range. She dug into the sides of the horse and held on. Her horse lifted and dug in for the race to live. She did her best to be small as a fly on his backside, but the air got between them. Lead balls whizzed beside her ears.

Her eyes spied a camp of men, uniformed men of blue. Smoke rose from a firepit. The ground gave way. Her horse left her. She catapulted through the air and tumbled into a ravine where a stream lay between her and the men.

On her knees, as if she should pray, she looked up at the cowboys and soldiers to see their shocked look. Shots rang out above her head from the bluff. She dove into the water and swam for her life. She crawled to the muddy bank where a hand reached across to pull her to safety.

As bullets pinged around her, she ducked behind a deadfall tree. Arms grabbed her shoulders. She turned and was stunned to see the wide dark eyes of Redhawk. "We've been trailing you, Mrs. McCord, but it looks like the Spirit of the wind brought you back into the fold."