Untamed Journey Read Free Page B

either.
    A white-haired gentleman smiled in sympathy
at Ruth’s obvious efforts to avoid any physical contact with Jasper
Smith. At a subtle nudge from his wife, he leaned across the aisle
and took Ruth’s hand. “Don’t you pay any mind to your companion, my
dear. We men can be purely uncivilized until we come across a real
lady, and she reminds us of our proper place.” With Ruth’s small
hand held in his, he stared directly at Smith, as he spoke his
warning.
    Smith snorted in disgust, not the least bit
intimidated by a dandified threat from an old man. “Mister, let me
tell you some stories of real men. Take Missy’s husband here. Darn
near single-handedly killed a band of Arapaho back in ‘64, when
them savages tried to stop good white folk from settling here.”
    The old woman visibly blanched at this news
and quickly averted her eyes. Ruth knew when someone wasn’t telling
her the entire story, and the old woman across from her had that
look now. She’d seen that look growing up, as good Southern
gentlemen tried to protect the ladies in their life from harm.
Unfortunately, Ruth quickly learned that once a girl’s men were
dead and gone in War, she found out about all the ugly things never
spoken out loud in mixed company.
    When the silence grew, Smith stood up in
disgust at the weak company. He’d been expecting gratitude at
Masterson’s bravery against the Indians. It was just like city folk
to want a warrior when death was knocking, but turn their noses up
when they were tucked safe and sound on a speeding train. How did
they think the tracks below them got laid clean through Indian
lands? he thought bitterly. Smith stormed off without saying
another word.
    Ruth leaned forward and gazed directly into
the elderly woman’s eyes. “What is it? I need to know what you’re
not telling me.” Ruth’s eyes silently begged for the truth. Once
again, she had no one but herself to rely on, she thought tiredly,
coming quickly to the conclusion that her unknown husband was not
going to be the protector she had dreamed of.
    The old woman exchanged glances with her
companion, who quickly nodded his agreement. “Tell her what you
know, Betsy. She’ll find out soon enough. It’ll be better coming
from you.”
    Betsy pursed her lips in distaste and quickly
told the tale everyone in the Colorado Territory knew by heart.
“That band of Arapaho Mr. Smith talked about was massacred in their
sleep. The men were off hunting. When a group of whites arrived
disappointed at no fight, they spilled blood just the same - old
men, women, and even children . Everyone was killed. If it
hadn’t been for the fact that the Army came across the camp before
the Braves even returned from hunting, no one would know what
really happened. The Army, fearing reprisal, then systematically
tracked down the Indian hunters and killed or imprisoned them to
prevent retaliation.”
    Ruth felt sick and defeated, fearing her
husband had something to do with this. “Didn’t the Army arrest the
white men for murder?”
    “The Army Colonel in charge claims he tried,
but by the time his scouts had returned the Indian men to the
reservation, the white men’s tracks were long-since washed
away.”
    Betsy patted Ruth’s hand in comfort. “I’m
sure your companion was just telling tales, my dear. I know it’s
hard to believe, but out here, there are some who think killing any
Indian no matter the cause is just fine and good. He probably
thought being from the East that you’d be terrified of any Indian,
and you’d be impressed.”
    Ruth’s color didn’t return. She feared the
woman’s words were false and said to comfort her, when there was no
true comfort to be had. She politely excused herself and headed
down the aisle, hoping some fresh air would clear the fear out and
help her think.
    As she stepped outside onto the tiny platform
at the end of the car, she found her peace of mind once again
destroyed by the presence of Jasper Smith. The