Chapter 11: Understandings
He awoke to the sound of frightened, frantic squawking and Jubilee's shouting. Scrambling into his pants, he got up and went to the back door.
Jubilee was up already, and dressed. She had gotten up and taken care of the pigs and cows with Snow limping along behind her, and he hadn't bothered any of the other animals until she got to the chicken yard. When she slipped inside to gather the eggs and feed and water the chickens he'd gone inside enthusiastically and started to chase his breakfast. Jubilee had dropped the basket of feed and chased him around the yard, but she hadn't been able to catch him until he had a chicken in his mouth. Jubilee went pale as he heard the fragile neck snap between his teeth.
Logan heard it too. Howling in outrage, he stormed into the barn and grabbed the horsewhip, flew back outside and raised it, preparatory to beating the crap out of the wolf. The animal whined pitifully, as if it knew it had done something wrong, and dropped the dead chicken at his feet, but Logan was deeply enraged. He raised the whip.
A blur raced past him and flung herself down on top of the wolf. "Don't!" Jubilee flung one arm around the wolf's neck and the other out at Logan. "Don't! Please! He didn't know he wasn't supposed to eat them, I had to feed him on the chickens in the camp when there was nothing left! He didn't know! Please!" her face was stricken. Logan stood there, enraged, but the sight of those pleading eyes got to him. With a snarled curse, he flung the whip on the ground and slammed the cabin door behind him.
He lay on his bed for a long time, hoping she wouldn't come in until he'd calmed down. She didn't, but he could hear her voice outside, sometimes raised and sometimes lowered. Finally, curiosity got the better of him and he went to the back door, opening it a crack so he could see.
Jubilee had a rope tied around the wolf's neck. She was holding it in one hand and a chicken by the wing in the other. As Logan watched, she dragged the chicken in front of Snow. The wolf watched, his ears up and alert. He waited for about three minutes before lunging at the squawking bird. Jubilee let it flutter away while she took the end of the rope and smacked his nose. Logan heard the wolf's whimper from where he stood, and winced. That must have hurt. Jubilee snagged another chicken, and repeated the process.
It took an hour, and umpteen numbers of tries, but Logan was impressed when the wolf finally got the idea he wasn't supposed to make any kind of move toward the chickens. Jubilee tied the rope off to a post in the chicken yard, and started to feed the chickens in front of him. The wolf studied them casually, then turned away from them and licked his shoulder. Jubilee smiled and untied him, leading him out of the chicken yard. She took the end of the rope and led him into the barn, and Logan grinned as he returned to the bed and started getting dressed. The wolf was smart. And Jubilee had been right; she had taught him not to, and he had learned. Logan was pleased. Not many dogs, once they'd killed a chicken, would stop killing them; often they'd had to be destroyed.
He finished buttoning up his shirt and was just rising off the bed when the cabin door opened and Jubilee walked in. She was carrying his horsewhip. She held it out to him wordlessly, and when he took it, staring at it stupidly, she turned around and pulled the leather tunic over her head. Then she turned her back to him, pulled her braids forward over her shoulders, and stood quietly.
"What the hell?" he stared at the whip in his hand, and at her bare back. Was she asking him to whip her? What the hell for?
"Snow killed one of your chickens," she said. "I made sure he won't do it again. But you said yesterday…if he goes after them…I'd have to pay." The voice wobbled a little, and trailed off, and the small shoulders squared as she braced herself for the blow she was sure was coming.
Logan stared. Yes, he'd been angry, angry enough to whip the wolf, but…her? Could he strike her? He stood there, knowing in his heart he couldn't. He saw the five white scar lines on her back, and in his mind he heard again her terrible, agonized screams as the Railmaster laid the long black bull whip across that thin, bony, sunburned back.
His breath caught in his throat with a sob, and he flung the whip away as if it were burning his hand. He grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around, and crushed her against him. "Jubilee…" he drew in a ragged breath, and tried again. "Jubilee, I would never…I could never…"
"But you said…" her voice was muffled against his shirt. "You said yesterday…when I asked you. I made a deal with you, I told you I'd be your slave if you'd help him…and you said 'all right, I'll take care of your blasted wolf, but if he gets into my chickens you're the one who's going to have to pay'." She twisted in his arms to look up at him. "That's what you said…I remember exactly…and then you did help Snow, and I figured the deal was made and you--"
Logan placed a finger on her lips and looked at her steadily. "Hush fer a moment. Listen ta me. I ain't never owned a slave. I never will. Just 'cause I paid the Railmaster for you doesn't mean yer a slave. Ta me, yer my daughter. Yer the daughter I never had. I don't care that ya ain't got papers ta prove it, yer free. Ya don't gotta make deals like that with me ta get me ta care fer you, or fer the stuff ya love too. Snow…well, I don't like wolves, an' that's a fact, but ya love him, an' ya care fer him, an' because yer important ta me he's important ta me too. And when ya said he was the only one who loved ya…well, I guess I just figured I'm gonna show ya that I love ya too, that I care 'bout ya an' yer important ta me too."
Tears filled her eyes. "You love me?"
Logan hugged her tightly again, sitting down on his bed as he did so. "Yeah. Yeah, I love ya. I'd do anythin' fer ya. If ya asked me ta go jump off a cliff, I'd probably do it." He looked at her. "Hey, don't cry."
"It's just…no one's ever said they loved me, except maybe Mama and Papa, and I don't remember them much, 'cept a little bit." She sniffed. "And no one hugs me like you. You've never touched me to hurt me, and I never felt a touch that didn't hurt. Maybe my parents, but I don't remember them so they don't count."
Logan sighed and pulled her to a sitting position beside him, then reached under the bed and took out the little box. "Look," he said, handing her the picture in it. "See this? This was my wife, Annie. We got married ten years ago. We was married for three years, and then she got pregnant. She had a lotta problems. She died giving birth to Alice, my little girl." His eyes misted with tears, and his voice got a little hoarse. "Alice lived two days after her ma died, and then she went too. I buried 'em both in the backyard of the family home. An' then I couldn't stand all the memories, an' I ran. I came out West here ta raise horses and make money an' get away from everything that 'minded me of 'em, and' I thought I was doin' pretty good till I seen you. Alice had yer same blue eyes, ya know? She was born with all these blond fuzzy curls on her head an' big blue eyes that made me feel like I was king o' the world." He swallowed hard, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. "Then she died, an' my heart died with her. I figured that was it, that I'd never love nobody again. An' I didn't, not till I saw ya lyin' there on the platform, and I felt somethin' stir down there where my heart used ta be. The next day, when I was ridin' inta town I heard yer screamin', and I got there in time ta see that bastard layin' that whip against yer back for the fourth time. And then ya broke the fifth time, and I heard ya beggin', and I couldn't stand it no more."
He was crying now, really crying, and Jubilee put her arms around him as he relived that terrible moment, that terrible day when she had almost died. "When I cut ya down offa that post ya wasn't breathin', an' all I could think 'bout was how much I'd make that bastard pay fer killin' ya. I was so relieved when ya sat up an' started cryin', an' I brought ya here. I didn't see yer eyes till Red Doe was here takin' care'a ya, an' it felt like I was lookin' at Alice again. I knew then that I loved ya."
Jubilee held him and let him cry. After all these years of mourning his wife and baby girl, the tears he couldn't shed then were now shed on the shoulder of a frail little girl. A girl who held him and stroked his hair, exactly as he did hers when she was upset, and whispered soft, soothing sounds in his ear.
Finally he sat up, wiped his eyes, and took the picture from her lap, dropping it back into the box. "Enough. Look at me, sittin' here cryin' like a girl." He smiled at her and tweaked her braids. "Hey. Wanna take a ride over ta Soarin' Eagle's camp an' claim yer horse?"
She rebounded quickly, as kids were wont to do. "Sure. I'll get Dark Star and Molly ready."
"Not Molly," Logan said quickly. "Get Dazzler. The big pinto?" At her surprised look he grinned. "Well, someone's gotta ride him over, an' I figure since yer gonna be ridin' his replacement, ya oughtta get some last minute ridin' practice in. Get goin', now." He smacked her rump playfully, and she squealed with laughter as she ran out the door.
He put the little box back under his bed, and went slowly across the room to pick up the horsewhip. He didn't use it often. Storm was the only one in his herd who'd felt the heavy braided leather thongs against his hide, and the only reason he'd felt it was because he was a wild stallion, untamed and never completely broken. Logan didn't want to break him. He wanted his horses to serve out of love and devotion and care, not because they were beaten into submission. Remembering the welts left on the horse's thick hide after the session that had finally taught Storm not to try and kill him, Logan winced at the marks it would leave on the kid's back if she got hit with it. He shuddered, threw the whip under his bed, and went out to see how she was doing with saddling the horses.
Soaring Eagle's herd was every bit as good as he had bragged over the deer. His camp was a little further away from the ranch than Running Wolf's, but looking at the herd that belonged to Soaring Eagle, he figured it was worth it. He spotted the perfect horse immediately; a pretty dark gray mare with small white spots, like snowflakes on a dark blanket.
Unfortunately Jubilee didn't agree. Her eye fastened on a tall, leggy stallion chivvying the herd along. "What about that one?" she pointed the horse out. Logan stared.
He was beautiful, a rangy, broad-chested horse with high withers and a broad back. A dished profile, high crest to his neck, and a coat that was the color of a jar of honey held up to the light. He was some horse; but Logan thought maybe he was too much horse for her. He said as much, but she wasn't listening.
Soaring Eagle stared at her. "You wish to try that horse?" he stared at her incredulously. She nodded, and he shrugged. "I will have Fighting Bear and Flying Hawk cut him out of the herd for you to try."
"Oh, don't bother," she said cheerfully. "I can get him myself." She hopped the fence into the horse corral with the rope bridle she'd brought, the bridle Logan used to train his horses to bridle and saddle.
Soaring Eagle jumped the fence too, and whistled. The buckskin he'd ridden the day before came trotting up at his call. Logan stared. "Mount your horse, friend. That horse she has chosen, we call him Thunderstorm because he is as untamed as a thunderstorm. None of us have been able to ride him. If she rides him it will be a miracle." Logan hurried to Dark Star.
With the enticement of a couple cubes of sugar, Jubilee got Thunder separated from the herd. He came willingly enough, seemed docile enough, but as she tried to get a rope halter over his head he reared away from her, almost striking her with hard, flinty hooves. She ducked out of the way, rolled, and came up holding the dangling end of the rope.
The horse took off, running across the pasture with her hanging onto the rope. She hung on, grimly determined not to let go. Dimly she could hear Logan behind her, his shouts almost unintelligible over the sound of Thunder's pounding hooves, but her stubbornness kept her hanging on.
Thunder finally tired at the far end of the pasture, and she stood, feeling an ache settle between her shoulder blades. "All right, boy," she said. "Now for the fun part." She climbed the fence carefully, making no sudden moves, and paused as he moved closer to the fence to lip at some grass. Then she launched herself at him, landing on his back and gripping the rope rein as she also filled her hands with mane. Her legs tightened as he took two short crowhops sideways.
He took off as though he'd been shot from a gun, bucking wildly, his rear legs flying up in the air at sudden, random intervals. Jubilee concentrated on the powerful, muscled body between her legs, feeling the subtle shift of his body under her as he prepared to buck again. As a result, when he gathered his muscles, she was ready for him, and she tightened her grip. Around and around the pasture they flew, him bucking, rearing, and twisting as he tried to unseat her. She hung on grimly, knowing that if he managed to dislodge her she would go down under his hooves and he would pound her to a pulp. This horse was one who would hold grudges.
As she tucked her face down into the mane to protect her eyes from the flying dust inside the corral, she saw the faint white line almost hidden in the neck hair. She sucked in a breath. So this horse had been abused too, just like she had. Horse's hides were tough; it took a lot to scar them. She felt a sudden pity for him. "Steady," she said aloud, not even realizing she was talking. "You don't want me up here; well, I sympathize. I'm not sure, now that I am up here, that I really want to either. But the only way down from here is falling, and I don't want to hit the ground that hard. Don't suppose you'd want to stop, would you?" The horse snorted. She grinned. "No, didn't think you would."
The horse's ears flicked, and his pace slowed a fraction. He was listening. She smiled. "I'm a slave too…or, well, I was. They did some awful things to me. I still have some really bad dreams about it all. I have scars on my back from where they beat me. So I know how that scar on your neck felt when it was first put there. And knowing that, I'll never use one on you, if you become my horse. Of course," and she smiled a little, "you could always stay here with the Indians and let them use their whips on you. I bet they tried to whip you into submitting, didn't they?" The horse's pace slowed again. "Good. Now we're getting somewhere. If you live with us, you're going to have a herd too, just like this one. Lots of girls for you to play with. Even Molly. She's my old ride. She's a fat, lazy, stupid girl. Maybe you could get her in shape when you get there, you know, chase her around a little, get her to develop some muscle. She's good at making little horses, Logan says, but not much else. And Logan will never whip you either. I handed him one earlier today and he still wouldn't hit me with it. He's a big ol' softie, and I love him. I'll do anything for him." She grinned. "So what about it? Wanna come live with us, where there's lots of girls and no whips? Or do you want to stay here with these ponies?"
And incredibly, with a last couple of hops, he came to a halt. He was blowing but not winded; breathing hard, but not exhausted. She patted his neck. "Good. I figured you'd see it my way when I explained it to you." She sat up straight, wiped her sweating brow, and touched her heels into his side. He walked around the corral in a circle, cooling off, and when he was dry she stopped him by the fence and climbed off.
Her legs were shaky when she hit the ground, but Logan was immediately beside her, holding her up, supporting her. "Hey," he whispered into her ear. "You are one incredible girl, ya know that?"
She grinned up at him, happy despite her exhaustion. "Why do you think you love me?"
