The Five Dollar Mail Book 3: The Road Home

10: The Crossing

Cover painting by Angela Taratuta. Chapter artwork of Jesse by Angela Taratuta. All graphics by me.

Book 1: The Green, Book 2: Lynch's Boys, Book 3: The Road Home, and the Riders & Kickers Anthology are available on Amazon under the name Regina Shelley. So if you hate waiting for chapter posts and/or want a more polished read, the finished product is available now.

They're planning on taking me somewhere. Jesse awoke suddenly in a jolt of panic. He could feel his heart pounding inside his skull as the Indian woman's gentle hands brushed across his face. I can't let them do that. I'll never find my way back...I may never get the chance to try.

He realized he'd dozed off in his exhausted state, and the scowling brave was nowhere to be seen. He heard the soft sounds of what must have been the child, breathing softly in her sleep somewhere in the lodge. The sunlight was no longer shafting through the smoke flap on the lodge, and he felt disoriented and confused.

The woman held a cup to his lips again, let him lean heavily on her for support as he drank. Despite his fear, he was thirsty, and so hungry his head spun. He shivered, damp sweat cooling on his skin.

"Thank you," he croaked around a clumsy, sticky tongue. His voice was a thready whisper in his own ears. Think, Farm Boy. Think! He closed his eyes and mustered enough strength to wrestle himself upright. If they were gonna kill me, they woulda done it by now. Look at what happened to Galloway. They didn't exactly carry him back to their camp and save his life...oh. Shitfire. Maybe it wasn't these same people killed him. Maybe I got more problems than I think I have right now.

New panic threatened to overtake him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the nearly overwhelming wave of dizziness that threatened to put him flat on his back. He felt the woman's steadying hand on his shoulder and he turned to look into her face, startled by how relieved and comforted he felt seeing the compassion plainly etched across her stern features. She was older than he was, but not by nearly as much as the marks of past pain on her face would suggest. Her dark hair shone warmly in the dim firelight, and he was surprised that it was chopped untidily off at just above her leather-clad shoulders. Storm says some of the tribes cut their hair as a mourning ritual...he says he hacked his own completely off when he was much younger.

"Absaroka?" he said hopefully, knowing it was unlikely. "Are you...you're not..."

She shook her head at him. "Oglala." A dimple appeared in her brown cheek and she gave him a self-satisfied smirk, as if enjoying some private joke. "Sioux."

Oh. Jesse didn't know if he should be relieved or not. He helped her hold a vessel of warm broth to his lips, letting her steady his shaking hand with hers. But so far, they been kind to me. They saved me. The broth was strong, and he tasted fat and bitter herbs. He gulped desperately, his stomach clutching with hunger. I don't even know what happened to me, but I think I probably woulda died. Of cold, most likely. He thought hard, picking through his memory of the few hand signs he'd learned from Storm. Storm can have an entire conversation without opening up his mouth once. I sure wish I'd been paying closer attention to him.

He let her take the cup from him and held up his hands, hoping he wasn't messing up and accidentally saying something offensive. "We're going?"

The gesture clearly startled her, and her eyebrows hitched upwards. She returned the gesture with a quick movement of her index finger. Yes. Her fingers flew, gestures tumbling over themselves in their eagerness . She was clearly happy he was able to communicate.

Jesse held up a trembling hand, shaking his head. "No," he said aloud. "I'm...not good at this." This is bad. They are planning on leaving, and if I'm right that the travois is for me, they're planning on taking me with them. This is a pretty mess. What am I gonna do? Think! He took in a deep breath, pointing to himself. "Jesse," he said, looking at the woman expectantly. "Jesse."

"Jesse." She nodded, touching her chest and gesturing to herself. "Ahwayela Mni Win."

"Ah..." His tongue stumbled over the swift, musical syllables before he let out an exasperated breath and let himself deflate. "Awah...I'm sorry. I can't..."

She held up her hands, gesturing downward, the way Jesse had seen Storm do when admonishing his crew mates to quiet down. Be quiet, Storm had snapped. Calm down and be still...

"Ahwayela..." The woman gestured as if raising a cup. "Mni." She gestured to the water skin nearby, making the sign again.

"Uh..." Water. Calm water....quiet water...still water...I know it sure as hell isn't 'Shut Up Water.' I have no way of knowing if I'm right or not. "Still Water?" The room rocked and he swayed, and he leaned heavily into her steadying hands, letting her ease him back down and cover him over.

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