Dancing Fawn Read online

  In the guestroom, Fawn stared up into the darkness. The downy featherbed provided a welcome respite from the rough army blankets she had been forced to use on the trip to the fort. Her mind filled with thoughts of her husband and if she would ever see him again. Her best chance for escape would be Eliza. Fawn hoped their talk tonight had helped Eliza see things differently and understand how deeply Fawn felt about her relationship with the Lakota people. She curled on her side and cradled her growing stomach. She hoped she carried a son and that he would be just like his father.

  * * *

  Traces of dawn barely filtered through the lacy curtain when a trumpet blaring reveille outside jolted Fawn awake. She crawled to the end of the bed and pulled the window covering aside to peer out. Her warm breath created a foggy haze on the glass, and she reached to wipe it away.

  The heavy footfalls of soldiers hurrying to join muster vibrated the wooden walkway and caused the window to shimmy. Even the bed shuddered from the movement. A passing soldier glanced in her direction as he rushed by. Embarrassed to be spying, Fawn dropped the curtain back into place and sat back on her heels. In a few moments, she peeked out again.

  What did soldiers do at this ungodly hour? Like a colony of ants, they formed a continuous line across the parade ground—at least that’s what the colonel had called the area.

  A knock on the door drew her attention away from the window. “Fawn, are you awake yet? Breakfast is ready,” Eliza’s voice called out.

  Fawn scrambled off the bed and cracked the door open, then peered through the slit. “I’m starving, but give me a few minutes to wash up.”

  The wonderful aroma of brewed coffee wafted under the bedroom door and reminded her of her last breakfast with her parents. She hadn’t thought of them in quite a while, and the memory of making their final pot of coffee caused her to be sad. She pushed the recollection aside and dried her face and hands.

  A glance down at her dress left her feeling dirty from having worn the same garment for so long. What she wouldn’t give for a clean one. Maybe Eliza could loan her something to wear while Fawn washed her dress.

  * * *

  After breakfast, Fawn sat enjoying a second cup of coffee when Eliza appeared holding a cotton wrapper. “Here, my dear. If you’ll slip into this, I’ll have your dress laundered for you.”

  Fawn accepted the garment. “That’s very nice of you, Eliza, but I can do my own laundry.”

  “Don’t be foolish.” Eliza insisted. “We pay people to do those things. I’ll have someone tend to it right away.”

  “Honestly? I never thought I’d enjoy such a luxury. I’ll go change.”

  She came back into the parlor and handed Eliza her soiled dress. Eliza took it and started out the door, but turned. “Maybe later we can visit the trading post to see if they have any ready-made dresses. I know they have lots of yard goods. Sit tight, and I’ll be right back.”

  Fawn walked to the window and stared out at the compound. People, looking much the same as her family, traveled in and out of the fort, probably to take advantage of the trading post. With this being such a busy place, crowds could work to her advantage. Maybe she could sneak out in one of the many wagons. First, she’d have to find a way to get out and look around. But how?

  Eliza swept into the room. “Your dress is on its way to be washed. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll fix us a pot of tea.”

  * * *

  Fawn sat but remained at the window. A constant stream of conveyances created swirls of dust that barely had time to settle, and in the midst of it, rows of soldiers, three across, marched in formation to the barking orders of a rough-looking man. Another wagon passed by, this one a large Conestoga drawn by six horses. The occupants looked much like Fawn’s family had when they embarked on their journey—settlers searching for a dream. Why had her family’s turned into a nightmare?

  Looking away, she bit her bottom lip and fought tears. Life wasn’t fair sometimes. Her white family was dead, the army snatched her away from her husband, and even now, perhaps some of her friends lay dead at the hands of soldiers. Would the fighting ever stop?

  She turned her attention back to the happenings on the other side of the glass, scanning the armed guards who patrolled the plank walkway around the top of the walls. “Even if I come up with a plan for escape,” she mumbled. “I’ll have to be well-hidden to get past all the guards.”

  “Ahem.”

  She jerked around. Eliza held a serving tray with a teapot and two cups. From the stern look on her face she had overheard. Fawn swallowed hard. “Eliza, please let me explain.”

  The woman slammed the tray down on the side table so hard the cups clattered, and tea sloshed out of the spout and puddled. Red-faced, she turned to Fawn. “I can’t believe that after I saved you from being locked up like a prisoner this is how you plan to repay me. Do you have any idea how angry my husband will be? And at me. I vouched for you.”

  Eliza dropped down on the settee, her cold stare fixed on Fawn.

  Fawn rubbed her temples. “I thought you, of all people, would understand. Especially after our long talk the other night. I just want to go home. Is that so terrible?”

  Eliza’s gaze softened. “I do understand, but if you heard all the things people are saying about you, you wouldn’t be so quick to try to hightail it out of here. It’s not safe for you. Most folks are angry with you for turning into an Injun-lover. That’s not my word, it’s theirs. They would like nothing more than to get their hands on you.”

  Fawn came and sat next to Eliza and searched her eyes for compassion. “I understand your concern, but try to imagine what you would feel like being ripped from your home and brought to a place where you didn’t belong. No matter how hard it is for you and the others to understand, the Lakota are people just like you and me. They love, they laugh, they get sick, and they die just like everyone else. I adore my husband and his people, and I belong with them. Won’t you please help me?”

  Eliza bolted to her feet. “No, absolutely not. I’m the wife of the fort commander the head of the Seventh Cavalry. How would it look to his superiors if word got out that his own wife conspired against him? I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Fawn went to the side table and poured herself a cup of tea. She sipped the hot brew then sighed. “I understand your dilemma. You don’t have to do anything to help me. Just please, don’t try to stop me. Look the other way, and let me take the blame for my own actions. I’m willing to take the risk.”

  Eliza nodded. “I suppose I could do that. Just don’t tell me your plans.”

  * * *

  Fawn paced alongside the bed. It had been over a week since she came to Fort Sully, and she still hadn’t found a way to move about without supervision. The foul-smelling, loud-mouthed private shadowed her wherever she went, even to the privy. She’d swear he’d come inside to watch if she didn’t lock the door.

  “There has to be a way to get out of here.” She verbalized her thoughts. “I just have to find a way to dispose of Private Riley.”

  She clenched one hand into a fist and pounded the palm of her other hand. “I refuse to give up. It may take time, but—”

  A pain shot through her midsection. Breathless, she clutched her abdomen and doubled over. “Ohhh. Ohhh!”

  Her first thought was of the baby. Fear clutched her heart.

  Oh God, please don’t let this happen. Her breathing was ragged, and her knees buckled. “Eliza! Help me!” she hollered.

  Without knocking, Eliza rushed in. “My goodness! You’re as pale as a ghost. Let me help you up onto the bed, and I’ll go for the doctor.”

  “No, you can help me.” Fawn clawed at Eliza. “You’ve had children. Tell me what to do. My baby can’t come yet. It’s too early.”

  She put an arm around Fawn, hoisted her up, and laid her atop the colorful quilt. “You lie still, I may have given birth, but I’m no doctor.”

  Fawn chewed her lip. “We’ve got to do something. It’s too e
arly.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Fawn locked her trembling fingers around Eliza’s wrist. “Don’t leave me. I’m scared.”

  Another searing pain shot through Fawn. She drew her knees up, rolled to her side, and curled into a ball.

  I’ll be right back,” Eliza promised as she ran from the room.

  Fawn braced herself for another jolt, but nothing happened.

  Eliza rushed back in, her cheeks flushed. “Hold tight. I sent Private Riley for Doctor Fairchild.”

  Fawn raised her head. “I feel a little better now that I’m lying down. Maybe the pains have stopped.”

  Contrary to her words, another wracked her. “Oh, help me. Oh, oh, oh, oh!”

  Eliza peeked into the hallway. “Doctor Fairchild! This way, and hurry.”

  The doctor, a tall, thin man with a thick shock of dark curly hair, came into the room. He carried a black bag, which he immediately placed on the bed and opened. The doctor peered over the spectacles resting on the bridge of his angular nose and began his evaluation. “So, young lady, I understand you aren’t feeling too well.”

  He removed his jacket, laid it on window seat and rolled up his sleeves.

  Fawn rubbed her swollen belly. “I’ve been having really bad pains. Please do something. It’s far too early for the baby, I think.”

  “When do you expect your child?”

  “In late summer,” Fawn replied.

  The doctor turned to the Eliza. “Miz Jamison, if you wouldn’t mind stepping outside. I’ll need to examine the patient.”

  Fawn looked pleadingly at Eliza, “Doctor, can’t she stay?”

  Eliza patted her hand. “I’ll be right outside the door, dear. Don’t worry. Let the doctor help you.”

  The closing door made Fawn’s body tense. She didn’t like being left alone with a strange man. His penetrating gaze made her uncomfortable. She took a deep breath, stared at the ceiling, and tried to relax.

  Dr. Fairchild leaned over her, placed his hands on either side of her stomach, and pressed. He moved them slightly and did the same thing, then once again, all around the perimeter of her baby. His pushing and pulling made her feel akin to a piece of dough being kneaded before baking, and she suddenly feared she might break wind. She gazed down the length of her nose at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to determine the size of your child. It’s difficult to tell, so I’ll need to do an internal examination.”

  She jerked her head off the pillow. “A what?”

  He straightened and adjusted his spectacles. “I need to look inside you to determine if you are in labor.”

  “Labor?”

  “Birthing pains.”

  “Oh! I.... Oh, doctor, my stomach is cramping again.” She grabbed onto his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. As the intensity of her pain increased, she dug deeper.

  His eyes widened with pain of his own as he pried her hand from his arm. “Now, now. Relax and go with it. Don’t fight it. That just makes it worse.”

  “How do you know?” she screamed. “How many babies have you had?”

  As the pain subsided, she took a deep breath. Had she just questioned the doctor’s ability? She bit her tongue.

  “Mrs... I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  * * *

  “Fawn. Just call me Fawn.” She refused to make eye contact and stared at the ceiling.

  “Fine. Now, Fawn, what I need you to do is remove your undergarments.” He walked to the water pitcher, poured some in the bowl and lathered his hands with the bar of soap atop the stand. After he rinsed and dried, he turned an expectant gaze to her.

  She felt herself flush. “I don’t wear any.”

  His brows knitted together. “Well, then...” He coughed. “Just relax your legs. I need to feel under your dress…to check if the baby is coming.”

  She covered her face with both hands. How in the world could he expect her to do such a thing? No one had touched her in her private place except Little Elk.

  “Well, Fawn. I’m waiting.” He held up the hem of her dress.

  She scrunched her eyes closed and balled her hands into fists. Taking a deep breath, she inched her legs apart. “Please just get this over with.”

  He touched her womanhood. She jumped and stiffened.

  “Relax, Fawn. It will just take me a moment.”

  What if she locked her legs around his head and squeezed until his face turned blue and his tongue hung out? She almost laughed. Just the image helped her stop thinking about the invasion of her privacy.

  Dr. Fairchild straightened and went to wash again. Her face was beet red because she felt the heat. She’d never seen a doctor in her entire life, and she hoped she never would again. He was nice enough, but it just didn’t seem right to expose her most intimate parts to a complete stranger.

  She raised her head from the pillow. “Are you finished?”

  “Yes. Just relax.” He picked up the same towel he’d used before and dried his hands. He turned and cast a smile at her that made her squirm. It was hard to look him in the face, knowing what he’d just done.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “Fawn, it doesn’t appear as though you have started labor, but I can’t be absolutely sure.”

  She inched up on the pillow and propped herself against the wall. “Does that mean that my baby won’t be born early?” she asked eagerly.

  “I can’t promise you that, but my guess is that you just ate something that didn’t agree with you.”

  “But if that’s not the case, what do I need to do? I’m willing to do anything to save my child.”

  The gangly man scratched a bite on the side of his neck. “Dang skeeters. They’ll eat you alive if you don’t watch out.”

  “Doctor, about my baby?”

  “I recommend you stay in bed for a few days and see whether or not the pains subside. They aren’t coming with any sort of regularity and appear to be lessening, am I right?”

  She waited for another pain, but nothing happened. “You’re right. They seem to have eased, but now I have a very queasy stomach.”

  “You do look a little green around the gills. Let’s just keep our fingers crossed about the pains and see how things go. You’ll probably feel better tomorrow.”

  Relief swept over her, but she felt a little lightheaded. She nodded at the doctor. “If staying in bed a while is what I have to do, then I’ll do it. I just hope Eliza doesn’t mind.”

  * * *

  Doctor Fairchild opened the door and invited Eliza back into the room. “I’ve advised our young patient here that she needs to stay in bed for a couple of days—complete bed rest.” He unrolled his sleeves. “I understand from the colonel that she may be in need of a place to stay. Eliza, if you prefer, she can come and stay in the dispensary until he decides where to put her. She’ll have a place to rest, and I’ll be close by.”

  He slipped on his jacket and picked up his black bag.

  Eliza patted Fawn’s hand and looked at the doctor. “That won’t be necessary. Fawn is welcome to stay here as long as needed. I’m sure she’ll be much more comfortable, and Lord knows, have more privacy.”

  “Well, as long as she follows my orders. Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to see. You know where to find me.”

  * * *

  Aromas wafting from the kitchen made Fawn’s queasiness worsen. She was angry with herself for getting sick. Tears ran down her cheeks. She curled her fist and pounded on the downy soft bed. “I’ve really messed things up now, darn it!”

  Somehow, a positive thought ran through her mind. It was as if she felt Green Eyes put her arms around her and say, “Don’t feel that way. You certainly aren’t to blame for your predicament. And how is staying in bed a few days going to change things? You’ll just have to delay your escape. I’m not so sure you could plan something so quickly anyhow. You need a chance to look around.”

  Fawn wiped her eyes. Getting sick wasn’t her fault. M
aybe the tears were from relief. She prayed that was the case because she wanted to be with her Lakota family when the baby was born.

  The door swung open, and Eliza bustled in carrying a dinner tray. Tendrils of damp hair stuck to her face, and bright red stained her cherub cheeks. She set an array of food before Fawn then plumped the pillows. “Here you go. You need to keep up your strength, so I expect to come back to an empty plate.” She started out the door but glanced over her shoulder. “There’s pie for dessert if you have room.”

  Fawn ogled the bacon-flavored green beans, the fried-chicken drumstick that she’d love to gnaw to the bone and the flaky biscuit with butter drizzling from it. Despite the appeal, her stomach repulsed at the smell. She pushed the tray to the far side of the bed and settled back against the pillows.

  She had an escape to plan and hopefully a husband waiting at home for her. Tomorrow she’d feel better. She closed her eyes to rest and let her mind wander.

  A sudden cramping pain brought with it the need to use the privy. The doctor’s words flashed through her mind. Complete bed rest.

  How? Her bowels had other plans.

  Fawn fidgeted as the urge grew stronger. Unable to wait any longer, she dangled her legs over the side of the bed and took a deep breath to quell her rolling stomach before she stood.

  Eliza walked through the door. “What are you doing? Get yourself back in that bed.”

  “But...but I have to use the outhouse.”

  Resting a hand against her own cheek, Eliza sighed. “Oh dear, I guess we didn’t think of that, did we? Surely the doctor didn’t mean you couldn’t get up to...to at least use the chamber pot.”

  “But I’d much rather use the privy,” Fawn argued.

  “Well…” Eliza ran a folded forefinger back and forth over her top lip. “I suppose it’s all right, but hurry.”