Chapter 11
Just west of Topeka, Kansas
February 1866
With shallow breaths, Kaylie's eyelids fluttered open, revealing the stark brilliance of the night sky above her. Wincing in pain as she attempted to sit up, questions flooded her mind. Where was she? Why was she alone in the night? Frowning, she strained to recall the events that led her to this solitary moment under the vast expanse of stars.
Her thoughts were abruptly halted by the murmur of voices nearby. Summoning every ounce of strength, she pushed through the pain, first forcing her strained muscles to sit up, then to crawl, and finally to stand. With unsteady steps, she staggered towards the flickering glow of a campfire ahead. The tantalizing aroma of food wafted towards her, causing her stomach to growl involuntarily.
Weak and battered, Kaylie prayed silently that these men would be kind and offer her help. Normally distrustful of strangers, she had seen the darker side of humanity too often. However, in her current state, devoid of food and rest, she wasn't sure if she would survive the night without assistance.
The deafening silence shattered as Kaylie's foot inadvertently snapped a tree branch near the camp. Instantly, five pairs of eyes locked onto her, each figure brandishing a drawn gun. Frozen in place, Kaylie stood perfectly still, as if hoping her immobility would render her invisible. In truth, she was simply unable to move, paralyzed by the weight of the moment.
"Ma'am." A man brandishing a large silver star on his shirt took her by the hand and led her to the camp fire and sat her down. "Ma'am are you alright?"
Kaylie's gaze shifted blankly towards the man addressing her before returning to the flickering flames of the fire, her expression unreadable.
"Boys, get her some food," the man instructed.
Kaylie sat in silence, devouring the food placed before her with haste. She scarcely registered what she was eating, nor could she discern its taste she ate so quickly.
"You're a hungry little thing aren't ya?" The Marshall smiled and handed her another bowl of beans.
"Sorry, I guess I was." Kaylie blushed.
"I'm Marshall Tucker." He introduced himself. "What's your name child?"
"I," Kaylie frowned and thought for a moment then thought harder. "I, I'm not sure."
"Not sure?"
"I don't remember," Kaylie replied quietly between bites of stew.
"What's that you got there?" the Marshal pointed to her side satchel.
Kaylie unfastened the small bag from the chain under her corset and handed it to the Marshal, her focus still on the warm meal in front of her.
"Well, these letters here say you are Kaylie Winters," the Marshal remarked, studying the contents of the satchel.
"Kaylie," she repeated her name slowly, letting it sink in.
"Kaylie, do you remember being on that stagecoach?" the Marshal inquired.
"No," she replied simply.
"What do you remember?"
"Waking up over there," she gestured. "I was hungry and cold. I heard voices over here so I followed them."