Torn Hearts, Lost History

Chapter Twelve: The Escape

          Thomas and Cora were still in shock about the whole situation, but Thomas was a little too drunk to fully care. There was silence in the air as they both stood in the parlor staring at each other relieved and befuddled.

"Did he hurt you?" Thomas finally asked, reaching a sympathetic hand out to Cora. Not to reach for her, but as if to let her know he is there for her and wants to help.

"Not as much as I him," Cora said with a sly tone in her voice. "I don't know who he thought I was, but a farmer wasn't it." They both laughed. "My great grandmother was Ojibwe; they're very efficient hunters. Strength is in my blood. My father always told me my ancestors would be there to protect me in times of need."

Thomas looked at Cora with amazement and wonder as he sat on the couch. This is the first time he had really heard anything of Cora's family and their history. In Great Britain, a man's family history was all in his name. If the name wasn't recognized, the family was likely poor and worked mundane jobs with no notability. To hear of the adventures of a Metis was a rare treat for a European who stayed in their home land. The idea of an aboriginal was but a savage human-like creature lacking in basic manners and social stature. The Metis were outcasts, to both the Europeans and the other Aboriginal Tribes. They belonged not here nor there, they were mutts. When Thomas looked at Cora, he saw none of these things. Maybe it was the stories he had heard of all the amazing people Benjamin had met, or that he was able to look a past the social constructs to see the human being behind it all. And this human was a strong, beautiful, independent and fierce woman. She was a foreign idea, but special, like a jewel from a far-off land. Her skin was dark, but it had a glow to it that Thomas found alluring.

"How did you get free?" Thomas asked Cora. She smiled at him and her cheeks flushed for she could hear the wonder in his voice. As if that one small question had said everything he had been thinking.

"When we got to his place," Cora began as she sat down on a chair, eyes looking off in the distant as to re-watch the entire series of events to make sure she didn't miss a single detail. "He led me into a tall building that seemed to be attached to similar buildings stretching all the way down the street on both sides. There was a strange smell in the air, dirty and smoky.

We walked up about four flights of stairs before reaching his door. He opened it and the room was cold and dusty. He pulled me by my arm into a small bedroom. The bed was like the one I had back at the farm. It was small and had holes with hay poking out. He pointed his gun at me and told me to sit on the bed. He took some rope out of his pocket and tied my arms to the posts of the bed, so I couldn't leave. Then he went into the main room, keeping the door open so he could watch me. He made himself a small meal then fell asleep on the dusty old couch, almost in bad of shape of the bed. I must've fallen asleep as well, for I was awoken by him kicking the bed. I sat up and saw him standing beside the bed with his gun pointed at me and a piece of black fabric in his hand.

I'm leaving now, but I will be back soon. He said with a disgusting grin in his face. This is to make sure you keep quiet. He told me as he leaned toward me and wrapped the fabric around my mouth. It smelled disgusting, reminded me of the smell of leather fresh on a tanning bed, rotten and dead, not yet dried.

I waited for a while when I heard the door close to be sure he was not returning. It seems that he very much underestimated the kind of woman I am. My escape was entirely due to his failure. Funny thing about being a farm hand, I always keep a knife in my stockings, and I can move in ways that would probably give my fellow 'ladies' a heart attack. I am just grateful I was in my night dress for a corset would have proven quite the challenge. I pulled my legs up toward my neck and pulled the knife out using my teeth."

Cora paused and looked at Thomas knowing exactly what he was thinking. "Yes," she said. "I even have the knife while I'm sleeping. Just a habit."

She cleared her throat and continued, "With the handle in my mouth, I slipped the blade between my wrist of the rope and started to saw away at the rope. It took a while and was no easy task mind you. Once my first hand was free I used it to cut my other one free, much faster not using my mouth." They both chuckled. "One thing he had thought of was locking the door to the bedroom. I ran to the window and tried to open it. I had to use my knife to pry it open breaking the blade. It was much to high to jump, but we were the top floor of the building. So, I climbed out onto the window and carefully climbed onto the roof."

"How did you do that?!" Thomas interrupted, not to be rude, but purely out of amazement and wonder.

Cora smiled. "Simple," she told him. "I closed my eyes and imagined I was climbing a tree. Carefully feeling my way along the window and the bricks to the roof. I used to climb trees along the red river all the time." Cora continued, "Once on the roof I looked around. All I could see were small chimneys. I ran down the roof a little bit until I could hear voices from one of the windows. I climbed back down and knocked on the window. Poor woman that saw me fainted, but her husband ran to the window and opened it to let me in. I apologized and ran out of their place and down the stairs." Cora paused realizing as she explained this part in such little detail that maybe she shouldn't have left so quickly and given those kind folk and explanation, but she was too focused on one goal in her travels. "From the street I found a cab and asked to be taken to the Sutton business building. The man just looked at me and smirked. Realizing I had to money I put everything I have learned so far to use and in my best aristocratic voice I said; Do you know who I am young man? I am the Fiancé of Sir Benjamin Sutton himself! Apparently, his name carries weight for the cab driver straightened up and apologized letting me in his cab and began to travel. Make haste! I told him, I'm in a hurry." Cora paused to giggle, she'd never spoken to someone like that before and just thinking back at it make her laugh.

"Along our ride I noticed some fallen branches along the road and asked the driver to stop. I picked up one that wasn't too big but had some good weight to it and hopped back in the carriage giving the driver permission to continue. He did not bother to question my actions. I had no doubt he would hail an officer claiming I was mad first chance he got, but I didn't care.

When we got to the building I ran inside and straight to your office. When the door opened, and I saw the expression on yours and Alice's faces I knew who was waiting just inside the door." Cora sat back in the chair feeling more relaxed. "And the rest," she said. "You know."

Thomas just looked at Cora with his jaw on the floor, "Wow," he finally pushed through his lips. "I suppose you are quite well then." He stood up trying to collect himself. "Mind if I look at your wrists?" He asked Cora. Cora nodded and pulled back her sleeves and holding out her arms for Thomas to see.

He leaned in and looked at them closely. Most of the alcohol affect had worn off by this point allowing him to focus. He saw mild red marks around her wrists left from the rope and as he turned them over he saw two small nicks in her skin likely from where her blade had pushed between the rope and her skin. The right cut was deeper and a small amount of died blood remained pooled on the surface. "Is this the one you cut free with your mouth?" Thomas asked Cora referring to her right wrist. She nodded in agreement but did not speak as she did not wish to interrupt his concentration.

Thomas walked over to the parlor door where he had left a leather bag with brief case like handled beside the door. He brought the bag over beside Cora and opened it pulling out a bottle of alcohol and some small pieces of white gauze. "This may sting a little," he told Cora. Looking up to meet her eyes he smiled. "But I'm sure you can handle it."

Thomas poured some alcohol on a gauze and dabbed the blood away from the small cuts on Cora's wrists. Cora inhaled deeply with the initial feeling of the alcohol on her wounds but exhaled as the feeling passed making the next one seem fine.

As Thomas finished up he looked up at Cora, "Now, you should get some rest. The police will no doubt wish to hear your story again in the morning. I will write a quick report on your wounds to back the events. They may not believe you at first. There aren't many women as extraordinary as you here." He smiled and took her hand to help her up from the seat.

"European men were always intimidated by the original women of my land," She said with a coy smile. Cora gave a small curtsey and exited the room. As she entered her bedroom she let out a long sigh and climbed into bed. Maybe now she can actually get some sleep, though there were still so many questions going through her head.