Elizabeth adjusted the hem of her doeskin dress as she pulled at the bear mat that lay in her cornered section of White Bear's tipi. She pulled back the pile of furs and found herself staring at the etched lines that were running along the dirt floor. Taking her index finger she added one more line to the ground.
It had been eleven days.
Eleven days ago she was traveling to the city of Charlesville, Arizona where she would meet up with her father's sister and her family. Eleven days ago her life was normal and she was happy although tired from her trip out west. Eleven days ago she was torn off of the seat of her wagon, watched her family die before her eyes, and was raped and mutilated until she could no longer feel. Eleven days ago a gentle Indian had saved her. Eleven days ago, Elizabeth Webber found out that her life would no longer be the same.
She was finding it difficult adjusting to the Indian tribe that White Bear had brought her too. She was still uncomfortable bathing with the other maidens but he forced her too everyday, telling her that life would be made more difficult if she had not cleansed herself. Elizabeth was in and out of the frigid water as quickly as she could be.
She had been forced to learn how to cook. White Bear wanted specific things to eat and she was made to hunt for vegetables and to pick out some spices and herbs that were growing along the tribe lines so she could mix them in her food. No matter how much flavor she attempted to add, she was unable to stomach the meal and usually went to bed hungry. In the morning, however, she always found some jerky by her sleeping mat and a tin of water.
White Bear was trying. He made it clear to all the other warriors in the tribe that Elizabeth was his and she was not to be looked out or touched in anyway. The women, however, didn't hold her with such high regard. They still laughed at her when she walked by, some poked sticks at her while the children threw rocks and called her names like ugly pale face. At night Elizabeth found herself crying quietly to sleep and White Bear could no longer calm her with his childhood stories that his father had once shared with him.
Elizabeth found the Indian life fascinating. She thought that it was amazing that a group of humans were able to live off of the earth and do it so well. When an animal was killed, such as a deer, they made sure that every part of the animal was used. Like the white man they did not take the meat and leave the corpse to rot. The meat was cooked immediately and what wasn't used that evening was later stored or made into dried jerky. The coat of an animal was softened and mended until it could be turned into a dress like the one that she wore today. Other parts of the animal were used as well but Elizabeth couldn't stomach the thought of an animals intensions being made into sacs and tools.
Rearranging her sleeping mats to hide the calendar she had made of her time here Elizabeth turned when she saw light beaming through her rounded home. White Bear had stepped inside, allowing the flap to close behind him and pulled the bow off that he had slung across his chest. He nodded in greeting to her and moved to replace his weapons from their earlier position on the wall.
He never made any move to touch her. It was still visible in her eyes, the frightened look of a woman who had been torn to pieces both inside and out. He moved his sleeping furs clear to the other side of the room and only approached her when necessary.
Elizabeth was grateful for all that he had done for her but still, she was beginning to wonder if him saving her was worth her life. White Bear made no mention ever returning her to her own world and Elizabeth was afraid that she was going to die amongst strangers.
"It is time for the evening meal," White bear said as he plucked a rabbit out of his sack, "I will cleanse the animal for you. Go find more vegetables for the stew."
Elizabeth knew that a warrior never took care of the cleaning of an animal. A warrior was a man who went out for the hunt and when he came back with a prize his woman was the one who skinned and cooked it for him. She had tried that once and wound up getting sick all over White Bear's dinner.
"White Bear," she said quietly as she stood up and stepped towards him, "There is something I need to ask of you."
He grunted and Elizabeth probably would have too. After all he had rescued her from vile heathens what else could she possible demand from him?
A home, her own home, that's all she wanted.
"Can you tell me when it will be possible for you to take me home?"
"This is your home," White Bear snapped, "You have been accepted into this tribe as my captive and you are to be treated as such. The men honor you for they see you as my wife and the women…" he shrugged, "They will get use to your fair skin and dark curls."
Elizabeth swallowed some tears, "You have been very kind to me. I can't…I can't thank you enough for saving me and for allowing me to spend some time here with you. But this…it's not my home, White Bear. I belong with…with white people."
White Bear laughed and he turned his angry dark eyes on her, "The white world will not accept you. If you go there, like you are now, they will laugh at you and point at you and call you an Indian whore." He shook his head and turned back to the plump rabbit, "You are better off, you are safer, here."
Elizabeth shook her head, "But this isn't…"
"It's time for food," he said, "Go collect some vegetables. I will cut up the rabbit."
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and headed out of the tipi. She ignored the sticks that were poked at her and the naked little boys who were running around the village trying to trip her. She ignored the scorned looks from the Indian maidens who had their eyes on White Bear and also the heated gazes from some of the men in the village. She was going to be strong, she was going to hold her head up high and she was not going to give them the satisfaction of her tears.
Jason held his hands over the slow burning campfire before pulling them back close to him and rubbing them together. It had been two days since he had split from the rest of the group and he had yet to find the elusive Elizabeth Webber. He still remembered the swivel of their heads and the shocked expression on some of his old friend's faces when he announced that he wouldn't be returning to Charlesville with them.
He laughed, shaking his head. He didn't blame them. He had no idea himself why he was out here chasing some girl who's picture seemed to stir something inside of him. Even Lucky and Luke Spencer, relatives of the girl, insisted that it was futile to search for her. Lucky looked pale when Jason mentioned finding Elizabeth, as if the younger man didn't think that Jason would find her in one piece.
Jason had every intention of finding her. He was hired out for his gun but also because he was an expert tracker. He was a bounty hunter because he could find people. He had yet to fail in any of his missions and he wasn't about to start now.
Reaching into his shirt pocket he once again pulled out the picture of the young woman. Her eyes still amazed him as they did the first time he saw them, orbs that had to be blue, staring back at him with that imploring look. She was asking him to find her and he was doing what was asked.
Running his thumb over the picture one more time Jason placed it back into his pocket and turned towards his sleeping mat which was spread out behind him. It was getting late and he wanted to head out as soon as the sun kissed the sky tomorrow. He had very little progress since he started his one man search. Tomorrow he would come across the first town since Charlesville and he had some questions for the people who resided there.
He just wasn't sure if anyone would be willing to discuss the topic of Indians.
Sam pulled the curtain aside in her tiny bedroom and looked out onto the streets of Charlesville. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. There was not a cloud in the sky and the Merchants were already standing at their doors saying hello to their normal customers. The town was still lacking something, a handful of its men.
She let the curtain slide back into place before she moved towards her bed. Deciding against sitting on that she pulled out the chair that went with her vanity and sat down, admiring her face in the reflecting glass, a very visible red cut still clear by her eye. She reached down for the face powder to once again cover it up.
Rachel had been right and while Sam was not happy with the approach that she took she was glad that someone made it clear to her that in no way shape or form was Sonny Corinthos going to settle down with a whore. He came from money, he moved here to create money and she was sure that once Michael Corinthos was old enough to take over the business Sonny would spend the rest of his days in retirement with a mistress tucked away somewhere.
Sam knew she wasn't even good enough for that.
Refusing to shed more tears over the foolishness that she brought upon herself, Sam placed enough powder on her face to make sure that the cut that was caused by Rachel's ring would not be visible. She then placed the puff back down and moved away from her mirror, towards her closet where her gaudy clothes that she wore hung neatly along an iron bar. There, in the back of the closet, sat a suitcase that had lain untouched for six months. The dust was collecting on the red velvet piece but she still could not bring herself to open it, thus opening the memories.
Long ago, before she was a woman of the night, she had dreams, plans, to make something of herself. Surely she wasn't a brave woman like the ones who lived in the west. She had no notions of struggling to survive and eking out a living with a corner store that you hoped people would come and purchase things from. No, she had dreams like most Southern girls, marrying a man from a rich family, living on a plantation and having balls every week to celebrate the silliest of things. It took her numerous beaus until she was finally ready to settle down with the man of her dreams, someone who promised her not just the South, but the world. He had placed a diamond ring on her finger, a gemstone larger than she had ever seen, and then he kissed her, telling her he would see her shortly and he vanished, among the dead, somewhere in an Georgia battlefield.
Not long after that she was forced to sell her ring, then some of her clothes until she had no other choice but to sell her body. Now, she was standing in the middle of her bedroom, a room smaller than the kitchen she had at her old home and she suddenly felt that she had no more tears to weep.
She had foolishly believed that someone of great power and wealth would want to settle down with her. If you asked her a few years ago, before the war had started, what she had wanted in life she would have giggled and said parties and teas. After meeting Sonny Corinthos she decided that respect was more than enough and a good meal on the table could last her at least a week. She had a different outlook than the naïve young woman who was voted prettiest in the county. She was the survivor she never dreamed of being. She survived the Civil War, she had survived the burning of Atlanta and she would survive falling for a man that was out of her reach.
Hearing some cheers from outside of her window, Sam hurried towards it and saw that the men were returning. Lorenzo Alcazar was leading a wagon that had pulled up in front of the undertaker's just down the street. The boys were splitting off, returning to their respective homes, and Sonny and Michael Corinthos were hitching their horses outside of the saloon.
Sam reached for her bonnet that rested on her bedpost and quickly tied it around her neck, picking up her skirts and hurrying out of her room. She headed down the hall, towards the back door that most of the prominent men in the city used the morning after so no one would discover them in the daylight.
As she headed out towards the shops in Charlesville she realized that she was indeed ready to move on from Sonny Corinthos but that didn't mean she was able to face him just yet.
Lu watched her mother stand up from the white wooden chair that was on their front porch. Laura's eyes were focused on the group of men that had just returned to town after recovering the remains of her family. Luke Spencer was greeting the town's undertaker.
"Mama, I don't think that now is a good time to have a party," Lu said quietly, "It would be best if we postpone it."
"That's silly dear," Laura smiled as she leaned down and patted Lu's cheek, "Things shall go on as planned. Jeff and Mary would have wanted it that way."
Lu wasn't sure about that. She had helped her mother purchase some black dresses from Alexis' mercantile store the day after the men had left. It was customary for woman in mourning to wear all black for a period of time to show that they were grieving. Laura had forced a smile on her face and told her daughter she didn't expect her to change from her many bright colors to one that was bleak.
Lu however was a Spencer and she was firm in her resolve, standing beside her mother and purchasing what was necessary for her time in mourning and the services that were going to be performed. It seemed to Lu that the more days that went by the more her mother had turned into herself.
It had started after Emily's visit. Laura had told the woman that she no longer needed company and shooed her off. Emily begrudgingly decided to leave but not without leaving Lu with a bit of advice, to watch out for her mother, because something was wrong and she wasn't sure that it all rested in the hands of Jeff Webber's death. Lu followed her old friend's advice and started to notice unusual things about her mother. Laura was looking very pale and hadn't had much appetite for what Lu put on her plate. She would take to sitting by the window, watching, waiting and when Lu thought that she'd like to get a breath of fresh air Laura agreed only to move her sitting position from inside to out on the porch.
Most people would assume these symptoms were signs of mourning but Lu knew her mother. Laura was a very strong woman who dealt with life had handed her. She was very much like her brother Jeff Webber. She took the bad with the good and would be the first one to look ahead to the bright future. She was not sullen, she would not starve herself for something she could not change and she would not run to the door every time she heard the approach of a horseman.
"There will be a small mass," Laura said softly as she looked at her daughter, "I told you that already didn't I, Lu? I hope that you're brother," she paused for a moment, "I hope that Lucky will come. I do know that he's mad at your father but it would mean a lot to me."
"I'm sure he'll be there, Mama," Lu said softly as she reached out and squeezed her mother's hand, "Most of the town will."
"Yes, of course," Laura said as she looked back towards the wagon and watched as Lorenzo Alcazar started to move the bodies from the wagon, "Maybe I should make some coffee for the boys. I'm sure they'd love some coffee."
"Mama, they're tired," Lu said standing up in front of her, "And so are you. You should go rest. Papa's going to be there for a while. I'll come wake you as soon as he returns."
"No, no I couldn't," Laura said shaking her head as her eyes remained fixated on the grisly site, "I'm just going to stay right here."
Lu came to stand beside her mother, resting her cheek on the older woman's shoulder. She wished that she could transfer all of her strength to her mother. It was at times like these that fancy parties and pretty boys back east no longer mattered. Lu was grateful that she was able to be here by her family's side through this horrible tragedy.
"I wonder if they found Elizabeth," Lu said quietly.
Laura's eyes widened as she counted the men who had returned to town, "Where is Jason Morgan?"
Kristina Lansing adjusted her skirts as she watched her mother and father reuniting a few feet away in front of the Lansing Mercantile. It had been four days since they had left town to return with three bodies and one less man. Jason Morgan had decided to continue on in hopes of finding Elizabeth Webber.
Normally Kristina would have sighed and eventually swooned over the man when he came back to town. It was like in those dime store novels that she read; a hero in search of a woman, protecting her from man and beast, only to fall in love at the end and live happily ever after. That was what she wanted, a hero, someone who would be able to rescue her from the life she lived. Funny how life's prospective can change in less than a week.
Her green eyes shifted until they rested on Lucky Spencer who stood by his horse talking quietly with the new cowboy who had arrived in town the same day as Lu. When he came into the store to purchase some supplies he had mentioned that his name was Johnny O'Brien and that he was an old friend of Sonny's. Kristina thought that he was very handsome, in the rugged sort of way, with a worn in cowboy hat and scuffed boots. She found it difficult to linger on him, however, when Lucky was in close proximity.
He didn't look any better than he had when he left the town. She didn't have a chance to say goodbye and wish him Godspeed before her mother whisked her into the store and chided her for shirking her responsibilities for a day of fun. Alexis had warned her that one of these days she was going to get into trouble and she would regret acting so hastily. At the moment, the only thing the red head regretted was not being able to be there for her friend.
She smiled as she leaned against the door jam and watch Lucky listen intently to whatever Johnny was saying. She used to chase him around mercifully when he was a child, up until around the age of fourteen when dresses were more interesting than horses. Lucky had always joked about missing her company and Kristina's heart always fluttered at the comment. She knew it wasn't true though, she was like a sister to him and in this moment she wanted to be that sister, be that shoulder he could cry on because Luke Spencer didn't seem to give a damn.
A lot of the townsfolk blamed Lucky for the rift between him and his parents. No one could seem to grasp why a boy who came from privilege would want to strike out on his own. They didn't want to remember how it was with Jason Morgan and how devastating the results were in that situation. Laura remembered and that's why she was continually pulling her son back but not Luke, Luke was a man who pushed until you broke. Kristina did not want to see that happen with Lucky.
Wanting to speak with him, to say something comforting or at least tell him that she was glad he was home safely she stepped out of the doorway of the store and onto the boardwalk, her eyes fixated on the man only a few feet away from her.
"Are you ready to go pick up the dress?" Lu asked as she came to stand in front of her friend.
Kristina forced a smile as she watched Lucky and Johnny turn, heading towards Sonny's saloon, "I nearly forgot but I'm ready. My folks will realize eventually that the store is unoccupied."
Lu smiled as she slipped her arm through Kristina's and led her down the boardwalk, "I'm glad that you let me convince you into taking one of my eastern dresses. I promise you that the coloring looks much better on you than it does me," she bit her lip, "I wanted to hold off until tomorrow but my mother swore that she was fine by herself and I didn't know what else to do for her."
"Being here is enough," Kristina said, "And I know that she's forcing you to have this party. Is she still insisting that no black is to be worn except on the men?"
Lu nodded, "My mother the socialite. She's so wonderful though. I only hope that I'll be able to be as good a mother as she has been to me."
"I don't doubt it," Kristina smiled as she pulled open the door to 'Victoria's Dress Shop.' "Hello Mrs. Leigh. I'm here for the dress. Is it ready?"
"Come in girls," Victoria Leigh smiled as she moved around the counter, "I swear you two are becoming more beautiful every time I see you. Of course the dress is ready my dear but I want to make sure that it fits you perfectly. Come in the back with me and try it on just once more."
"I'm going to stay up front and browse through some of the new materials," Lu said, "Just call if you need me to help with anything."
"Will do," Kristina laughed over her shoulder as the shopkeeper drug her into the wooden dressing area's in the back.
Lu smiled as she made her way up and down the aisle of materials. Most of these pieces she had seen back east a few months ago, things that were shipped over from England. It took months for them to be carted out west and by the time they reached here Boston and Philadelphia were already looking for new styles. She stopped and reached out for a new cream silk material when her hands collided with someone else's.
"Oh I'm sorry," Lu smiled, "Please, go ahead."
"No, it's alright," the girl said with a tiny smile, "I'm just admiring."
"Don't be silly," Lu said pulling some of the material from the rack and holding it up against the woman's cheek, "With your complexion this material would look stunning. It could probably be made into a lovely dress, one that's cinched in the waist and then flows out, off the shoulders of course," she laughed, "Pardon my manners, I'm Lesley Lu Spencer."
"I'm Samantha McCall," Sam said shaking the white glove covered hand, "I've seen you around town and when you first arrived."
"Oh that," Lu laughed, "I told them I wanted nothing big but word gets out and...well you know how that can be?"
Sam forced a smile, "All too well. I've heard so many nice things about you. Michael talks about you all the time."
"Michael?" Lu asked with raised eyebrows, "Michael Corinthos? You know…"
Sam felt her cheeks redden as she took a step back from Lu and placed the rest of the material she had in her hands back down. She hated this part of meeting new people. They came up to you thinking that you're one of them only to find out you've been sleeping with their boyfriend's or husband's for some gold coins.
"I work for Sonny," Sam said quietly, "So please, this would look just as lovely on you."
"That's not true at all," Lu said as she reached for a light blue material, "This would like nice on me. It would bring out the color in my eyes. You should really go with the cream. I'm sure that Mrs. Leigh can make a lovely dress for you."
Sam laughed softly, "I would have no place to where it Ms. Spencer. I'm afraid that material as fine as this has no place in a saloon," she smiled sadly, "I was able to bring a few things from Atlanta and I have them safely tucked away in a suitcase where the smell of smoke and liquor will not rot them out." She smiled sadly, "I'm sorry that I took up so much of your time."
Lu watched as the woman started to move past her, a woman who could not be more than a year or two older than Emily Alcazar. Her face was still young but her dark brown eyes made her look older, as if she were forced to age overnight.
Picking up the material again Lu held it out to Sam, "I'm having a party, this Saturday and I'd like for you to come. It's nothing fancy, I think not, but my mother will probably say otherwise. I'm sure that Mrs. Leigh will have this done for you by then," Lu winked, "I can persuade her too. I won't take no for an answer so don't even try."
"I couldn't possibly," Sam said, "It wouldn't be right."
"If a man can find time to spend with you in a dark room than surely he can find time to give you a twirl on the dance floor," Lu said folding her hands in front of her, "I'll see you at eight."
Lu was smiling when she approached her friend and took her arm again, "Everything looked alright?"
"It fit perfectly," Kristina smiled as she picked up her box, "Who was that?"
"It was Samantha McCall," Lu said as she made her way towards the door, "She's going to be coming to my party this Saturday. I'll introduce you. We can stand in the corners all night and giggle about the men around us."
"That's odd," Kristina said stopping.
"What's odd?" Lu asked with her hand on the door.
"That you're able to hold a conversation in the middle of a prominent store with a soiled dove but you are unable to give a dusty cowpoke the time of day."
Lu's mouth dropped open while her friend grinned at her. She huffed and threw the door open, muttering that she had no idea what Kristina was talking about.
Luke walked into the fancy living room of his home with his hat in his hands. He was never comfortable with the furniture that was shipped in from Boston and the hand stitched couches Laura had ordered from California. He was more comfortable at Sonny's saloon where he could prop his feet up on a lopsided chair and throw back some whiskey but Laura loved this room and he would do anything to please his wife.
He remembered the first time he set eyes on Laura Webber. He had come to an Indian tribe with furs and other goods hoping to make a trade for some food and gold, something that would be able to last him until he reached the next town. He could feel her piercing blue eyes on him and when he finally looked up his breath was taken away. It was love at first sight for him and he traded all that he had for the wounded young woman who made the difficult decision to leave an infant son behind.
A few nights after he bartered for her life, Luke and Laura arrived in a town in the Oklahoma territory. He had proposed marriage and she had readily accepted, telling him that she would understand if he loathed the idea of touching her after she had been with an Indian. Gently, through time, Luke had shown her otherwise and he held her as she cried throughout the lonely night for the child she had abandoned.
He offered to go back, he told her that he would find her son and no matter what it took he would bring her back to him. Laura had told him no. She knew that she made the right decision by leaving him to be raised by the tribe. In the white world her son would never be accepted, in the Indian world he would be raised and loved no matter what his skin tone.
Twenty one years later and the pain still hadn't lessened.
"What did you find?" Laura asked quietly as she sipped from her china tea cup.
Luke shook his head as he approached his wife and knelt down in front of her, "Apaches."
"I knew it wasn't him," Laura said as she placed her cup down on its saucer, "My son would never do what those heathens have done. It was horrible wasn't it Luke? I can only imagine what they did to Mary and Sarah and…" she covered her mouth with one shaky hand as the tea cup rattled in the other.
Luke leaned forward and took it from her, placing it on the glass table beside him before he pulled his wife into his arms and hugged her tightly, rocking her against his chest as he smoothed her hair. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be alright but he just wasn't sure anymore. Laura was the one who knew first hand was it was like to be taken alive as an Indian captive. She was blessed to be taken in by a peaceful tribe; Elizabeth was captured by a band of savages.
"Is it wrong of me to pray that she's dead?" Laura whispered against her husband's chest, "Is it wrong of me to not want her to have to survived this vicious attack?"
"No," Luke said shaking his head and pulling back, "I saw it Laura. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone."
"And my son," Laura cried, "My son is one of them. He couldn't possibly do this but he is one of them."
Luke reached up and brushed the tears away from his wife's face, "And we have to make sure that our children never find out."
White Bear pushed open the flap to his tipi and was startled to find Elizabeth curled up in a corner of the room. Her knees were pulled up to her chin, her head buried against them and her body shook as it was racked with sobs. The blaze in the fire pit had long gone out and he could barely see with the moon light that was dancing through the circled hole in the ceiling.
"Elizabeth, what is wrong?"
As he walked closer she only pulled further away. She reached out, trying to grab onto something as her startled eyes encountered his. There was fear there, much like the fear that resided there the day he rescued her from the Apaches. He would kill the person who had caused her harm. They would not sleep another night in this village.
"Elizabeth…"
"You told me that this was safer," she sniffled as she wiped the tears from her face, "You told me that I would be accepted here as your captive. You have lied to me White Bear! You told me that no harm would come to me."
She held out her arms and then her legs to show him the many bruises and scratches she received on her latest walk through the village. She had tried her best to accommodate herself to White Bear's home but was finding it very difficult. After twenty one days rocks were still being tossed and sticks were still being poked about. Elizabeth knew that she had nothing left to lose so she decided to fight with her dying breath.
And if she didn't make it out of here alive, than so be it.
"I cannot live in this world," she cried, "I cannot be who you want me to be. I am in pain. I am suffering. This is causing me more harm than any white man would. Please White Bear, please I beg of you. Set me free; let me deal with my own people. I see nothing but hatred in the eyes of yours."
"That is not true," he said with a slash of his hand, "My people…"
"You said that you would not harm me because I have your mother's eyes," Elizabeth whispered, "Look into those eyes White Bear and tell me what you see."
He did and he hated what was reflected there; pain, anguish, hatred. White Bear did not want to be the person to put those emotions there. He wanted to be the one that rescued her, he wanted to prove that not all Indians were alike, he took one look into those blue eyes and wanted to rectify what his father could not with his mother twenty two years ago.
White Bear had failed, as his father did, but unlike his father he would be able to make sure that Elizabeth's eyes never showed those torrid emotions again.
"I shall free you, Elizabeth," he said quietly, "I will take you where hopefully you can find peace."