Chapter 1

Wyoming Territory, Late Summer 1841

Five Horses was beginning to feel a bit guilty. She should have been gathering berries in the brambles that grew around the lake near the Kiowa village for her family’s evening meal, but the heat of the afternoon sun had
made the sparkling cool waters of the lake too inviting. She had not been to this side of the lake before, but the vines close to her home had been picked fairly clean by the women of the village during the summer and she had to walk further to find the sweet fruit. Giving in to temptation, she had slipped out of her buckskin dress and moccasins and slid into the tranquil waters. Floating on her back on the glassy water of the lake under a crystal blue sky, gently moving the cool water across her bare skin with her delicate hands, she smiled softly allowing the gentle sounds of moving water to lull her into a daydream reflecting on what a lucky woman she was.

Life was indeed good for Five Horses and her family. Her husband, White Eagle, was a respected war chief in the village. Although the Kiowa were not currently at war, occasional conflicts arose with the surrounding tribes or the ever increasing presence of the white man. When trouble arose, White Eagle led his people with confidence and pride, always considering the safety of the tribe before acting hastily. Five Horses loved him with all her heart and he returned the love equally. Their marriage held a passion that other Kiowa couples did not understand as often marriages in the village were arranged for convenience or mutual gain for the families involved rather than love. This was not the case with Five Horses and White Eagle. They fell in love at a very young age, too young in the opinion of
Five Horses’ father. When White Eagle asked him the amount of the bridal fee for his daughter, then named Yellow Bird, her father, in hopes of deterring the young couple, had set her bridal fee at the extraordinarily high fee of five horses. It had taken some time to capture five wild mustangs, but White Eagle had accomplished the task, nearly breaking his neck in the process. When the final horse was delivered to Yellow Bird’s father and the marriage was approved, White Eagle changed his young bride’s name to Five Horses to remind her of the high price he had paid to make her his wife.

Five Horses and White Eagle had quickly been blessed with a child, a son. A handsome boy possessing the features of his father. They had named him Red Bear after White Eagle’s father, a highly honored chief who had been killed
in a war with the Cheyenne some years earlier. Red Bear, now 13 summers old, was growing into a strong young man so much like his father in thought and actions. He would take his rightful place as war chief in the years
ahead and lead his people with wisdom and pride as his father and his grandfather before him.

Their perfect world had been almost shattered a few years after Red Bear’s birth. In a battle with an attacking group of Sioux intent on robbing the Kiowa village of their horses, White Eagle had been seriously wounded when
he had been clubbed in the groin by a Sioux brave. With Five Horses constant care and the help of the tribe’s medicine man, Cloud Walker, he had recovered, although Cloud Walker told them it was doubtful that White Eagle
could father another child. This pronouncement left the young couple deeply disappointed as they had envisioned a larger family. In time White Eagle and Five Horses were able to resume their relationship as husband and wife.
Five Horses continued to pray to the spirits for another child, but as the years went by she gradually gave up hope. If the spirits were to give her only one child then Red Bear was more than enough. Five Horses considered
her life perfect. Her family was strong, healthy and happy. What more could a woman want?

The caw of a black crow nested in a nearby tree awakened Five Horses from her daydreams. The afternoon sun was beginning its descent to the far side of the sky. She needed to return to the village. White Eagle and Red Bear
would be returning home soon from their deer hunt and would have fresh meat for their supper and hides to prepare. She turned from her back into the water and with lazy strokes began to swim toward the shore relishing the
last few minutes of her swim.

He watched the Indian woman as she swam to shore. She emerged from the water no more than 10 yards from where he crouched behind a thick growth of shrubbery at the water’s edge. He had come to the lake with the intent of
filling his canteen. To find a lone woman bathing in the lake was indeed a pleasant surprise.

The man was a trapper by trade. He had set out from St. Louis several years earlier in hopes of making his fortune quickly by trapping and selling the animal hides at the trading posts situated along the trails. Coats and hats of the “wild animals” of the west were considered high fashion in Boston, New York and other eastern cities. But the wealth did not accumulate as quickly as he had hoped. Although the animals were abundant, the task of setting traps, skinning the animals and hauling the pelts to the nearest trading post was hard work. Too hard for his liking. More often he would purchase cheap whiskey with his profits and trade the liquor with various Indian tribes for their own animal pelts. These furs he would then sell at the trading posts for a much greater price than the cost of the whiskey used as his bargaining tool. Once the Indians acquired a taste for the liquor it became easier to cheat on the trades. It wasn’t that he disliked the Indians, he merely wanted to use them for his own gain. He felt the same way about the Kiowa beauty standing naked before him.

Five Horses unknowingly stood facing him, droplets of moisture glistening on her brown skin in the sunlight. She was a woman of about 30 years he estimated. She was a small woman but possessed full breasts and the softly rounded hips of one who has carried a child. He watched as she twisted her waist length black hair to remove the water. The woman turned her back to him and bent down to retrieve her clothing. It had been a long time since the man had seen a naked woman. A long time since he’d had one. Desire growing within him he slowly licked his lips. Watching her every move with animal lust in his eyes he quietly stepped out from behind the bushes.

Five Horses sensed a presence behind her, picked up her clothing and rose to a standing position. At the snap of a twig under his boot her back stiffened and she drew a sharp breath. She stood perfectly still for a moment and then slowly turned around to confront the intruder. What she saw made her gasp in fright. Five Horses had never seen a white man before and if this was what they looked like she never wanted to see another. He was an average sized man with his matted and filthy shoulder length hair tied back with a strand of rawhide. His clothes were caked with dirt, mud and the blood of the animals he had skinned. His face was covered with a week or more growth of whisker stubble. Five Horses studied this particularly as she had never seen a man with hair on his face. The stench of his unwashed skin filled the air. The man ran his lust filled eyes up and down her body as she clutched her dress against herself to cover her bare skin.

“Ain’t you a sight” he said with a wry smile. “You and me gonna have a good time, little missy.”

Five Horses did not understand the words he spoke but the meaning of the look in his eyes required no translation. The man took a slow step in her direction and she immediately stepped backward as an animal retreats from the hunter. As she stepped, Five Horses tripped on a rock jutting from the ground and momentarily lost her balance but caught herself before she fell. Her heart began to pound in her chest and her breathing became faster. She could feel perspiration forming on the palms of her hands a sick sensation in her stomach. Paralyzed by fear she stared at him. The man, seeing her fear, grinned widely showing his yellow and tobacco stained teeth.

“Now, we can do this easy, or we can do this hard, but you can be sure, missy, we gonna do this” he teased raising one eyebrow and taking another step towards her.

Five Horses turned and began to run but the man sensing her movements was right behind her. He lunged forward grabbing her ankle causing her to fall forward to the ground. Twisting her body around she moved to face him,
panic beginning to take hold inside her. With one hand still holding her ankle he began to move his other hand up and down her free leg. The touch of the man released the anger and fear that had built in her. Five horses kicked at the man with her free leg and began to swing her arms wildly in an attempt to free herself from her captor. Her right hand hit something hard on the ground and she realized it was the wooden bowl holding the berries she had picked that afternoon. Grabbing the bowl she used it now as a weapon and swung it at the man, the berries flying through the air as the bowl made contact with the side of his head. Momentarily dazed, he released the grip on her ankle and Five Horses seized the opportunity. She jumped to her feet and began to run as fast as her trembling legs would carry her,
cutting her bare feet on the rocky ground. Realizing that his prey was escaping the man ran after her and within a few
seconds was upon Five Horses. He threw his body at her and she collapsed to the ground under his weight nearly striking her head on the trunk of a large tree that had fallen during a recent storm. Both of them, winded by the
fall, lay gasping for air. Five Horses was pinned to the ground by the weight of the man. She could feel his hot, stale breath on her skin as he lay on top of her. His lust growing stronger by the feel of the woman beneath him he began to rub his filthy hands over her body. Raising himself slightly from her he adjusted his clothing freeing himself from his
trousers. Five Horses summoned all her strength and began to fight against him, pounding his head and shoulders with her fists.

Her efforts proved futile as he roughly grabbed her hands, removed the piece of rawhide from his hair and used it to tightly bind her hands together. Raising her arms over her head he secured the rawhide to a branch of the fallen tree. Terror engulfing her, Five Horses began to scream. The man, desperately wanting her now, slapped Five Horses across the face to silence her. He quickly removed the dirty bandanna from around his neck and forced it into her mouth. Tugging fiercely to break the binding that held her hands, her face pounding from the force of the blow and growing sick from the smell of the bandanna nearly forced down her throat, Five Horses closed her eyes tightly and braced herself for what was to come.

She tried desperately to close her body but the man savagely forced himself on her. Her eyes flew wide open as her body arched in pain, the sounds of her cry muffled by the gag in her mouth. Tears of agony and anger began to stream down her face. The man moved against her time after time with such force her bare back was scraped and cut by the rocky ground beneath her. Trying desperately to shut out the sounds of his sadistic desire she retreated deep inside herself until she felt and heard nothing.

After his needs were satisfied the man stood and readjusted his clothing. Breathing heavily he smiled at Five Horses.

“Bet you ain’t never been done like that before.”

Five Horses lay still on the ground, her mind numbed by the treatment she had endured.

The man knelt over Five Horses and removed the bandanna from her mouth.

“I’ll be needing this back now” he told her. “Yes ma’am, I certainly do thank you for your time.”

Beginning to regain her senses, Five Horses reacted in the only way available to her by spitting in the man’s face.
Taken back by the actions of the woman beneath him, the man swung his fist at Five Horses’ face. Anticipating the blow, Five Horses turned her head so the blow was not a direct hit but was enough to stun her.

Wiping the spit from his face with the bandanna, anger growing inside him, the man removed his knife from its sheath.

“I’m gonna kill you, you red bitch!” he spat back at her through clenched teeth. Raising the knife to her throat, pressing the blade against her skin, he stopped. “No, you’d want that about now, wouldn’t you? Be more fun to let you live. Let you think about what we done” he chuckled. The man moved the knife away from Five Horses’ neck and instead placed the blade on her cheek.

“I’ll just leave you somethin’ to remember me by.” He slowly applied pressure to the blade opening a gash on Five Horses’ face from her cheek to her chin, not deep enough to be a serious cut but enough that he was certain a scar would form as the cut healed.

“You remember this, bitch. Every time your man looks at you he’ll remember, too.”

He knelt beside her watching the blood begin to flow freely from the wound. Satisfied with his work, the man cut the rawhide binding allowing Five Horses’ arms to fall limply at her sides.

The man rose to his feet and looked down at the dazed and bleeding woman. He realized that he could have her again easily if he wanted. Using his dirty boot he nudged her leg to try to get a response from the woman, but
there was none. She lay motionless on the ground.

“Nope, wouldn’t be much fun” he muttered to himself and walked away from Five Horses disappearing into the trees.

Slowly, Five Horses began to regain her senses and tried to move. Her body ached and she felt a throbbing pain in her face. Touching her cheek she felt the blood oozing from the cut he had inflicted upon her. Lowering her hand she looked at the blood on her finger tips as a cold shiver ran through her body. The putrid smell of the man still fermented the air and she sat up quickly, looking around the clearing with fear in her eyes, breathing in short gasps, her muscles tensed expecting to see him. She relaxed slightly realizing he was gone.

Five Horses drew a quivering breath and began to shake. She could feel the touch of the man on her body. Smell his foul odor on her skin. She had to get his smell off of her. Had to do something to stop her skin from crawling. Her only thoughts were to rid herself of the touch, the filth of the man. Too weak to stand, Five Horses crawled into the lake. The water that had given her so much pleasure now served as a shield to hide her shame. Reaching down to the lake bottom Five Horses grabbed a handful of sand and began to use it to wash her body in an attempt to rid herself of the dirty feeling. Slowly at first she scrubbed her skin with the sand but the feelings would not go away. In a frenzy of desperation, she scrubbed harder and harder rubbing her body raw with the sand. In despair she sank to her knees in the water her head bowed in shame. How had she allowed this to happen?

Her thoughts became muddled and confused in her tired mind. Five Horses raised her head and gazed upon the gently moving water of the lake.“Come to me” the deep water beckoned to her. “Come to me and I will hide your shame”.

Pushed to the edge of sanity by her despair, Five Horses listened as the water spoke to her promising peace and rest in its dark depths. Five Horses longed to accept the water’s offer of shelter. She took tentative steps further into the lake until the water lapped around her neck and shoulders, her feet barely touching the bottom. Suddenly visions of
White Eagle and Red Bear flashed through her mind and she stopped. Covering her face with her hands Five Horses cried out “No!” The thought of never seeing her family again brought her to reality as the part of her that wanted to die succumbed to the part that wanted to live.

Quickly she left the water and on trembling legs began to search for her clothing. She found her moccasins and buckskin dress near the downed tree and as quickly as her aching body allowed dropped the dress over her head
and shoulders. He legs still shaking, Five Horses sank to the ground, her back resting against the tree that had held her captive. Five Horses sat quietly for a moment longing for the touch of White Eagle’s arms around her. But how could she tell her husband what the man had done? Would White Eagle ever want to touch her or hold her again? Would he ever want to make love to her again now that she was dirty? She could hear the whispers of the others in the village. What would Red Bear think of his mother now?

These thoughts whirled rapidly in her mind and as floodwaters break through a weakened dam her tears began to flow. Five Horses began to cry uncontrollably as huge body wracking sobs overtook her. Unable to remain upright under the weight of her grief and shame she lay down on her side against the tree. Drawing her knees up tightly against her chest trying to make herself small and invisible to the world Five Horses lay on the hard rocky ground and wept knowing nothing would ever be perfect again.