Snake Heart


Snake Heart


Snake Heart

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“You don’t like it,” Jake said after she had explained the situation to him. “I thought you were a good judge of people.”

She didn’t answer, but instead gave her father instructions on how best to care for his wound and then took a chair beside him as he sat in bed with his bandaged foot propped up. He looked so small and vulnerable lying there that she wanted to cry.

She hated herself for being here in this strange house with these strange people who cared nothing for her or Jake. The fact was they probably did not even know about the baby growing inside her. If they found out they’d turn her over to Snake Heart for sure.

She could hardly bear looking at her father when he smiled and thanked her for coming to visit, but she knew if he had any sense he would be grateful she hadn’t left him alone in his room while the women cleaned and prepared his wound. Still…

Jake stood behind her chair, silent, watching with narrowed eyes. It seemed to take forever before the woman’s daughter came back down the stairs carrying a tray of steaming hot tea.

“That will help your father relax,” Jake told her.

The girl handed her mother one cup and then placed two more cups on a tray for herself and the other woman. The older woman nodded and took a seat. “He’ll be much better once we get those stitches out,” she told her daughter.

But when she reached for the teacup, her hand trembled slightly as if she feared touching something tainted by the evil witch. Was she thinking about Snake Heart? Or just scared of her own shadow?

When Jake spoke again, she jumped a little.

“Do you think he can travel tomorrow?” he asked quietly.

She looked up, startled.

“My wagon should be here early in the morning, then I’ll drive them home. That will leave me free until late afternoon.”

Her mouth dried as the implications sunk in.

“I’m going west to find my sister,” he said simply.

She stared at him, unable to believe what he had just told her. He was leaving the next day. Leaving her and her father and all their troubles behind. What if it takes him months?

But Jake had already turned away from the bed where her father lay sleeping.

“Goodbye, Jake.”

His voice drifted softly across the room as he closed the door. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll only be gone a short time.”

Then he was gone. And she sat numbly staring into the fire. How could she ever thank God for such wonderful news when she felt like throwing up? She didn’t want Jake to go. It was selfish of her to wish he would stay, especially since the truth was she did not really know him.

She couldn’t possibly tell anyone what had happened in this house—especially if he returned. Her life would be over, and so would his, she knew. No one would ever trust her around Jake. Not after what Snake Heart had done. But what choice do I have, she thought miserably.

Jake drove his mare slowly through the darkness, wishing that he had stopped at the first ranch for directions, but then he might have gotten too close to the house, and Snake Heart would certainly know someone was coming, which would lead her straight to him.

Now he had lost valuable time and needed to find the ranch fast. At least it wasn’t raining. A little snow, but not a lot yet. He hoped the road crews were getting ready to open it soon; otherwise, he’d be forced to take a circuitous route around the mountains to reach his sister’s place. If he could make it there, then he could wait out the storm somewhere else.

It wouldn’t be long now, he told himself as he pulled off the main trail and headed east toward another ranch that had been set up in a canyon that cut between two ridges. The road crews usually worked on the section nearest the main settlement and then moved farther back to widen the rest of the road to keep traffic moving along the highway.

The weather had slowed progress considerably since the beginning of the year, delaying the opening of the passes and causing many ranchers to fall behind schedule on winter grazing schedules. This area had seen a few days of rain, but nothing too serious. With luck, he’d get there well before the snow started falling.

The sky grew darker with every mile he rode. The road crew was still working on the last part of the highway leading to the ranch and would probably stop soon if there was no more precipitation.

He decided to turn off onto an unmarked track he recalled seeing near the canyon entrance, then he turned back the way he had come, hoping to catch some daylight and continue driving eastward. In his mind, he pictured the ranch and its location.

He was sure he’d passed the place when he was searching for the witch. But how far was it? Could he actually find it in the dark? And even if he did, would Snake Heart still be there? If so, what would he say to her? Would she even talk to him?

As if reading his thoughts, she appeared in front of him, wearing a long, thick gray cloak and hood that hid most of her face. For a moment he wondered how he had failed to see her coming, but then realized he hadn’t been looking for her.

“Hello,” she greeted him quietly, her voice carrying an icy chill as cold as the bitter winds that blew from the north.

The horses snorted nervously, and he reached down and patted his mare reassuringly. When he spoke, she recognized him instantly. “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

She shrugged and smiled faintly. “Just passing by,” she answered.

“Did you see me riding by?” he asked.

She shook her head.

He sighed heavily. “That means I can’t ask your help.”

“Why not? You’re heading in the same direction as me anyway.”

“We don’t have much chance of meeting other travelers out here in the middle of nowhere.”

“You could ride in front of me—”

“No! I couldn’t ask you for the same favor you’ve done me,” he said firmly.

She laughed softly. “Well, that’s good news. It will save us both time. Besides, we won’t meet very many people in this weather. I’m traveling alone and intend to stay that way until I reach my destination.”

“Where is that?”

Her expression grew sad. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell him.”

“Who?”

She hesitated before telling him. “My husband.”

Jake remembered the man, but could only remember his name because she had mentioned it before. “Was he killed in the war?”

“No…he died after a long illness…”

For a second Jake thought she meant the one that had left her heartbroken and devastated, but it quickly dawned on him that she had been married to him for thirty years or longer. Thirty-three years, to be exact.

He studied her face, noticing the deep lines around her mouth and eyes, and the thinness of her hair that hung over her shoulder. She was old—older than he’d imagined from the stories that circulated about her, older than he should have thought anyone could survive living in such an isolated territory.

How many times had he heard people talking about her? Some said she’d lived all alone and survived the harsh life of the plains because of her skills. Others said she was the daughter of a witch who used her powers to manipulate people. Still, others insisted she was simply crazy. What did she really look like?

The horse snorted again and she glanced at the animal, but then looked back at him. “Is something wrong with her?”

“Not at all. She’s just nervous about this kind of weather. I’ll take her back to the stable so you can make camp.”

She nodded and followed him back to where they’d tied their horses to a tree near the stable. “Thank you,” she said quietly, reaching forward and pulling the saddle from her mount. Then she walked away.

She seemed so different from the witch that it was hard for him to believe it was the same person. As he led his horse into the stall, Jake couldn’t help wondering whether he’d made the right decision in asking her for help. Wasn’t she a witch, too?

If he’d gone along with her wishes and tried to kill the witch, could she have used her powers against him? Could she have found him in a matter of seconds, even when he was in the forest miles from town? And why hadn’t he seen her when she’d appeared in front of him?

He could only conclude that the witch was stronger, smarter, and better prepared. No wonder she had gotten away from him before.

He untied his horse, took the reins from the stable boy, and returned to his own stall. The stable hand had already removed his saddle and bridle and taken it inside the building. Jake lifted the heavy, wooden box that held his guns, slung them over his back, and grabbed his rifle and pistols.

After feeding the animals and putting hay and grain in their feedbags, he went back to his room and pulled a small leather bag containing his gold watch and some other personal items out of his trunk. He stuffed it into his pocket before locking up and returning to the house.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw Miss Baker preparing a meal. “Miss Baker, I need to talk to you.”

She glanced at him and turned back to her stove. “I’m busy now, Mister Quinn,” she said briskly.

He stepped closer to her, and she flinched. “Don’t do that!” she warned.

“It’s nothing personal. It’s just that I want to know how you came to be so close to the witch.”

“How do you think?” she said with a sigh. “She was hiding in my basement. We were planning an escape together.”

His heart sank. Had it been true, or had she just wanted to get rid of him because he wasn’t going to help her? But if what she’d told him was true…

“But you didn’t succeed and now I can see why,” he said. “If you hadn’t been here, she would have gotten away from me for sure.”

She nodded and looked down at her hands. “Yes…yes, I suppose she did…and now there is no way to stop her. There must have been something in her words to convince her otherwise.”

Jake frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t seem surprised that she got away.” Her voice sounded strained as she spoke. “It seems as though you knew all along that she was dangerous.”

“Why should I be surprised? You’re the one who brought her in here, not me.”

“I know…”

He paused. She was silent for a while, then asked softly, “Have you ever loved anyone?”

He shook his head and waited for her to continue. “Then maybe you won’t understand how hard it is for me to lose someone dear to me.”

“You lost your husband?”

She nodded, her shoulders drooping. “We were happy. He died five years ago, and after that, I became more withdrawn. I didn’t leave the house much except for church on Sundays. I guess I’ve always feared being lonely.”

“You weren’t married?”

She hesitated as if embarrassed by her answer. “No, never. I was raised a Methodist, but when we moved out of the city, my family joined the Presbyterian Church.”

That explained the Bible lessons every Sunday. He wondered how many times his mother had taught her to say a prayer before she was old enough to understand what she was saying. Maybe it had been too many times.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said softly. “And I hope that someday you can find peace and happiness again.”

“I appreciate that,” she said and reached out, touching his arm. “Now please don’t go outside until we’re done eating.”

Jake returned to his room and closed the door behind him. What kind of relationship was Miss Baker having with the witch? Why had she been so willing to betray her friend? Was it just a matter of business, or was it possible that the witch was also interested in her? Did they love each other? Would that make things any easier for her?

He pulled open the drawer in his desk, took out his watch, and checked the time. Two minutes later he opened the window, pushed aside the lace curtains, and looked down at the street below. His mother’s carriage rolled slowly past the front gate, heading west.

It stopped briefly and then continued down the main road. He watched as it rounded a corner and disappeared around another bend. A few minutes passed before another carriage arrived. It stopped next to his, and two elderly women stepped out and walked toward the house.

Their skirts swished against their legs and the high-necked dresses showed off the lace sleeves of their bonnets. They looked up at him as they approached.

One woman held the other’s hand. “Are you the one who owns this place?” the older one asked, her eyes darting to Jake’s chest.

“Yes, I am.”

They both smiled at him. One said, “Mister Quinn, would you mind if we come inside and look around?”

He thought about her question, realizing that he was still in his shirt and trousers. It seemed silly to dress up to greet people. “Of course not. I’m just about to eat anyway. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He started to step down but hesitated.

How long had it been since he’d spoken to anyone outside of town? What if one of these women was the witch’s accomplice? “Actually, I could use a little company myself. Can I offer you some soup?”

Both women smiled broadly. “Oh, thank you very much! And we would love to see everything.”

He nodded and went back upstairs, leaving them downstairs. As soon as he was alone again, he went to his bedroom closet, opened the door, and rummaged through his clothes, looking for something that might pass as a suit.

He tried on several shirts and suits that looked right but felt too hot in this weather. Then he found a wool blazer in the bottom of his trunk and put it on over his shirt and trousers. When he came downstairs, he was surprised to see the two elderly ladies sitting on chairs near the dining room table.

Miss Baker had placed a tray of sandwiches and tea in front of them. They looked up at him expectantly. “I have to go help my mother now,” he said, taking a seat across from them. “I’ll bring your lunches to wherever you want.”

“Thank you, sir,” one of them replied. The other nodded her thanks as well.

“May I ask why you wanted to come upstairs?” Jake asked as he filled their teacups. “Was it important?”

“Not really, but I do like to look around.” Her eyes darted back and forth as she studied his face. “Your mother told us all about you. We know you’re an honest man.” She smiled. “She says you helped rescue her.”

He froze momentarily. “Did she now? Which part did she tell you about?”

The younger woman smiled, showing teeth stained yellow by the sun. “That you saved her from the witch’s curse.”

Jake’s heart pounded in his chest. “Is that so?” He paused, studying her for a reaction as if he were deciding whether or not she was telling the truth. “You must be Miss Baker. My name is Jake Quinn. I own this plantation.”

The older woman touched his arm. “We heard so much about you. Everyone in town loves you.” She took a sip of tea. “But what happened with the witch? You didn’t save her life?”

Jake stared down at his hands, his fingers twisting together. Had Miss Baker told them that? “It’s true I got rid of the witch, but unfortunately there was no saving her.”

Miss Baker stood up suddenly. “Excuse me, ladies. I need to change.” She hurried into her room and shut the door. The other woman’s lips thinned.

“Why are you telling them that I killed the witch?” Jake asked as soon as he could speak.

He couldn’t hide how shaken he was. The two women glanced at each other, then turned to him again.

Miss Baker appeared a few moments later wearing a pale pink dress and matching hat. She sat back down, smiling politely as she spoke to the two elderly women. “I’ve never seen you here before, but Mother has mentioned your name many times. She tells us that you used to live here in New Salem, which makes you practically family to us.”

Jake nodded, wondering how long these women had been in town. They seemed to have known his mother very well. Was it possible they knew more than one thing about his past? He thought back to his conversation with her.

Maybe he should have told her that she was being watched—that someone was watching both of his mother’s lives. But what if his mother had only assumed that one woman had taken over her house? What if it wasn’t the old crone after all? Did Miss Baker suspect the same thing?

After lunch, he took the three of them out onto his porch, showing them his vegetable garden and fruit trees. They also saw his horse and buggy in the yard. After an hour or so, Jake brought them inside to show off the mansion.

He showed them the library, dining room, kitchen, and music room, then left them for a moment to go upstairs and get his grandfather’s letter. He had decided to keep it with him in case they returned.

When he came back down, he stopped abruptly, staring at the two ladies standing in front of his piano. “You play?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, we do,” Miss Baker answered brightly. The younger woman nodded in agreement as they played “Amazing Grace,” the hymn Jake’s grandmother had sung when she visited his home in New Salem. Both women sang along and swayed on the bench, their voices blending together like a choir.

Jake was stunned by their talent. When he first heard Miss Baker’s voice in the barn, he was sure she was a witch. But listening to her sing made him believe otherwise. She seemed to love singing almost as much as she loved books. And she had a beautiful tone to her voice. The younger woman’s voice matched hers perfectly, making the song even more hauntingly beautiful.

They finished playing, and the younger woman stepped down from the bench and walked around to stand beside her friend. Then they both sat down, waiting for Jake to join them. His gaze traveled between the two women, taking in the resemblance of their features. Could they be sisters?

Miss Baker smiled. “Do you sing?” she asked. “We’d love to hear you.”

Jake nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It had been years since anyone had asked him to perform in public, but he would give them a little demonstration of his skills. Not wanting to disappoint his two new fans, he went over to the grand piano, pulled open the black velvet lid, and started playing one of his favorite pieces, the theme from “The Pirates of the Caribbean.”

Miss Baker closed her eyes and hummed a tune as she tapped her foot. Miss Baker’s musical abilities impressed him as much as her singing did. He could see why people liked her so much.

His heart pounded as he played. Playing in front of an audience used to make him feel anxious, but now he enjoyed it, even when he felt nervous. He could still recall his first concert when he had stood on stage alone while thousands of people watched.

He had performed flawlessly, but he had hated every minute of it. But he had learned from that experience. He always worked hard to improve his skill until he mastered everything he set out to do. Music was no exception.

When he finished playing the piece, the two women clapped enthusiastically. He sat back down, then waited as they thanked him.

“Are you planning to stay longer?” Miss Baker asked, glancing out the window. “I’m afraid I won’t be here tomorrow. My brother, my nephew and I will be leaving early morning.”

“But we’re staying until Tuesday,” Miss Campbell said quickly. “I know our train leaves late afternoon.” She frowned slightly as if trying to remember something important. “What time is it anyway?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s only six p.m.”

“You’ll have to hurry if you want to catch it,” Miss Baker warned her companion. “I’ll see you in church tomorrow,” she added. Then she looked over at Jake again, smiling. “And perhaps later this week, we can talk more about your family’s history.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jake replied, feeling a tingle run through his body. This was the first time he had ever met anyone who knew so much about his background. Maybe there was hope for him after all. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad if he found out the truth. If his aunt and mother were alive…

As he walked the two women to the door, he asked, “Could you tell me where I might find a place to buy some fresh vegetables? We don’t have any here at the hotel.”

“Why, certainly!” Miss Campbell exclaimed, smiling broadly as she put her arm in his. “Come with us now and I’ll show you exactly what you need.”

The End

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