Girl with a Gun Page 5

  “There’s no heartbeat, no pulse, no breath, she’s cold, and her fingertips are blue.”

  “Are you saying . . .?”

  Twila, who had shoved her way closer, drew in a sharp breath.

  The Colonel stared hard at LeFleur, his face draining of color, his lip twitching, waiting for an answer.

  “Yes,” LeFleur said. “I’m afraid she’s gone.”

  Murmurs circulated around the tent.

  “Are you sure? Positive?” The Colonel grasped LeFleur’s arm. LeFleur nodded.

  The Colonel dropped to his knees and gently lifted Kimi’s lifeless body to his chest. “Why, why, why?” He buried his head in her neck and rocked her back and forth, as if she were a child merely sleeping.

  A few of the cowboys pressed forward, causing the others to do the same. Bobby came up from behind, put his hands on their shoulders, dragging them backwards, trying to push his way to the front.

  “Kimi! What happened? Oh, God. Is she—?”

  “Everyone, clear the tent.” LeFleur shooed all of them back. “Let’s give the Colonel some room.”

  Most heeded LeFleur’s command and shuffled out of the tent into the cold night air, but Bobby and Twila stayed.

  “Out, Bobby,” LeFleur said.

  Annie’s heart crumpled as she watched Bobby walk backwards toward the tent opening, his eyes fixed on Kimi, his freckled cheeks pink from running in the crisp night air, his chin trembling.

  Annie stepped next to LeFleur, bouncing the whimpering Winona gently in her arms, trying to soothe the baby, whose cries had quieted to little snuffles and short intakes of breath.

  “Give me the baby.” Twila stepped forward.

  “No, I have her.” Annie pulled Winona closer, cradling her tiny head, pressing her small body against her heart.

  Twila narrowed her eyes, but Annie held firm, glaring as hard as she could in return. Twila huffed, spun around, and returned to the Colonel’s side.

  “Come, Annie,” LeFleur said. “You and the baby can rest in my tent for now.”

  “Wait, don’t leave yet.” The Colonel gently released Kimi and raised himself to his feet, suddenly looking much older than he had minutes ago. “What happened? Who did this?” He directed his question at Annie.

  “I don’t know. Kimi was on the ground when I came into the tent. I called to her, checked her pulse, but—nothing. Then I called for help.”

  “I was here within seconds.” LeFleur said. “From the temperature of her body, it appears Kimi expired hours ago.”

  The Colonel raked his hands through his hair.

  “She’s so young, so healthy. How could this happen? How?”

  Twila placed her hand on the Colonel’s arm, looked into his eyes.

  “We may not know how or why for some time, my darling. Some people have weak hearts. I’ve seen many pass within seconds from a weak heart. Even young people are not spared.”

  The Colonel buried his face in his hands.

  “Leave us alone.” Twila trained her eyes on Annie.

  Clutching the baby tighter to her chest, a wave of sadness rolled through Annie. This little child would have no mother. The father, whoever he was, if alive, made no claim on the child. What would happen to this precious little baby?

  Once inside LeFleur’s tent, he pulled out a chair for Annie, signaled for her to sit, and pulled a chair up for himself.

  “I can’t believe she’s gone. How could this happen?” Annie stroked Winona’s cheek, soft and downy as a baby bird’s chest.

  “Did Kimi seem all right before you left for the outing?”

  “Yes . . . well, no. She’d been crying, upset about something, but she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

  “Had you seen her upset before, recently perhaps?”

  “Just today. She and Bobby had a spat. I could hear them arguing as I approached the tent, but when I came in, they stopped and he left. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it, but she shook her head and went back to sewing my new costume. That’s all I remember. I didn’t hear what they were arguing about.”

  “She never was a talkative sort. Always shy, quiet.” LeFleur ran a finger over his mustache.

  “Had she ever been sick or complained of any physical ailments?” Annie asked.

  “No, quite the contrary, she always appeared to be well. I don’t recall any illnesses or weaknesses.”

  Annie gasped, suddenly remembering.

  “She had bruises all over her back.”

  “Bruises?”

  “Yes. I asked her about them, but again, she gave me no information.

  Lillie walked in the tent, interrupting us. We never finished the conversation.” The last words died on Annie’s tongue.

  “Were the bruises fresh?” LeFleur avoided her gaze.

  “I only saw them yesterday, and most were still purple, some yellowed.”

  The baby squirmed in Annie’s arms and began to fuss.

  “I think the baby needs to eat,” Annie said. “How will we feed her?”

  “I’ll see if I can find some milk.” LeFleur stood up. “I also need to go find Kimi’s brothers, before they hear what’s happened from someone else. They will take this news very hard . . . as we all have.” He left the tent.

  The baby fussed harder, so Annie rocked her back and forth, trying to comfort her. She thought walking would help so stood and attempted to scoot the chair away with her legs. She lost her balance and almost fell into the oversized trunk she’d noticed the first time she saw Mr. LeFleur’s tent. She righted herself and sidled past the trunk, banging her knee on the bulky padlock.

  “Ouch!” Annie stepped around the trunk and moved to the center of the tent, where she would have more space.

  She paced and rocked the baby, her feet sinking into the luxurious plushness of Mr. LeFleur’s Persian rug. She admired the stately four-poster bed, the large oak desk, the velvet chairs, and expensive trunks. Had he always been rich? Of course, she hadn’t seen the Colonel’s tent yet. LeFleur’s might be modest in comparison—but far more lavish than the one she shared with Kimi. Once shared.

  The baby quieted again, but Annie knew she’d have to eat soon.

  Bobby suddenly rushed into the tent, eyes wide, unblinking, frantic.

  Sweat glistened on his forehead.

  “What happened? What happened to Kimi?” He stood inches away from Annie, clenching and unclenching his fists. “She was fine when I left her.”

  Annie raised her eyebrows. Kimi had not been fine when he left her.

  “I know you heard us arguing, and I know she was upset with me, but she was fine. What could have happened to her?”

  “I’m sorry, Bobby, I know this is a terrible shock.”

  Bobby walked toward the bed and settled onto it, balancing himself with his arms as if he might collapse. Annie noticed a crystal decanter filled with liquor and two crystal glasses on LeFleur’s desk. Consuming liquor went against her beliefs, but Bobby looked as if he needed fortifying. Still holding the baby in one arm, she filled one of the glasses with the amber liquid and took it over to Bobby.

  “Here, this might help. You look as if you are going to buckle.”

  Bobby wagged his head back and forth.

  “No. I’m fine.” He took the glass and swallowed the liquor down in one gulp.

  “I don’t know what to say . . . or what to think,” Annie said.

  Bobby sat the empty glass on the bed and covered his face with his hands. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “What’s that?”

  “—gotten angry. I was so angry with her.”

  Annie had known Bobby for only a short while, but she couldn’t imagine anyone with his freckled, boyish face and sweet demeanor hurting anyone, emotionally or physically. Certainly not the young girl he so obviously adored.

  “Why were you angry?”

  “It’s not important now; it really wasn’t that important then. I overreacted. I shouldn’t have been so angry with her.”
He raised his head to look straight into Annie’s eyes.

  “I loved her . . . she was my girl.” The last words came out in an emotional croak.

  Holding Winona close, Annie sat down next to Bobby and used her free hand to rub his back, making small circles like her mother used to do to comfort her.

  “I’m awfully sorry, Bobby.”

  Bobby shook off her hand and sprang to his feet.

  “I don’t deserve your pity, miss.” He lowered his eyes. “I thank you for your kindness, but I don’t deserve it.”

  He ran out of the tent, almost bumping into LeFleur as he returned. “Where’s he running off to?” LeFleur asked.

  “He’s upset, which is understandable. I think we’re all upset that such a young girl would die suddenly, for no apparent reason.”

  “Did he say anything about their argument?”

  “Only that it wasn’t about anything important. He regretted being angry with her and claimed he loved her. I believe him.”

  “Yes, I suspected as much.” He held up a glass jar. “I found goat’s milk in the ice box, but I couldn’t find Twila . . . she would know what to do.”

  “Winona is too young to drink milk from a jar, she’s only had her mother’s . . . We’ll have to find something she can suckle.” Annie bit her lip, thinking. “There’s some chamois on Kimi’s sewing table, in our tent. Would you mind getting it? I’d go, but . . . I just can’t go back in there, not yet.”

  The baby issued a piercing cry.

  “My dear, I fear it will be much quicker if you go yourself.” LeFleur winced at the sound.

  Annie sighed and thrust the wailing Winona into LeFleur’s arms.

  “I refuse to let this child see her mother’s dead body again.” She ignored his panicked look and ran, as quickly as she could, to her tent.

  She found Twila still in the tent, looking for something. Kimi’s body was gone.

  “What are you doing here?” Twila said.

  “This is my tent. I’m looking for chamois to feed the baby. What are you doing here? Why are you rummaging through our things?”

  “Where is the baby?” Twila straightened her shoulders, glared at Annie.

  “She’s in Mr. LeFleur’s tent. She’s very hungry.”

  Twila dismissed Annie with a wave of her hand and continued her search.

  “Miss Midnight, please leave my tent.” Annie needed to get back to the baby, but she wanted Twila out of her tent. What could she be looking for?

  “Very well.” Twila stood. “But the girl stole something from me, a necklace with a butterfly pendant. I want it back.”

  “A necklace? I’ve never seen Kimi wearing a necklace.”

  “Of course you didn’t, she stole it. Why would she wear it?” Twila stormed from the tent.

  Annie scratched her head, amazed that at this time, during this tragedy, Twila could only think of a necklace.

  More concerned about the hungry baby than Twila, Annie grabbed a swath of chamois and fled back to Mr. LeFleur’s tent.

  She found the baby screaming, her little face red with anger, and LeFleur frozen, his face blanched, holding little Winona at arm’s length.

  Annie removed the wailing bundle from his arms.

  “For heaven’s sake, Mr. LeFleur, she’s a baby, not a monster.” Annie cradled the baby, sat down on the bed, dipped the cloth into the milk, and held the moistened corner up to the baby’s mouth. It took a few seconds, but when Winona realized the liquid dripping into her mouth was nourishment, her wails diminished to tiny grunts and coos. Annie let out her breath, her whole body sinking in relief, finally able to give some comfort to Winona’s needs.

  Annie looked up to see Mr. LeFleur staring at the baby, his face etched with fear, or nervousness, or something.

  “Mr. LeFleur, are you all right?”

  He blinked out of his frozen stare at the baby.

  “Yes, yes. I just didn’t realize—”

  “Realize what?”

  Instead of answering, he clapped his hands together as if rallying the troops, and the expression on his face shifted from concern—or maybe fear—to its usual charming demeanor, like a practiced artisan playing a role.

  “Oh, well. Nothing. I mean, of course I’m distressed about our poor Kimi, and Winona, but it looks like you’ve solved the problem for the time being. I’ll leave you to finish feeding her. Take your time.”

  “Thank you. Oh, before you leave, I was wondering if you knew—who was, or is the baby’s father?”

  LeFleur stopped in his tracks, his back to her, holding the tent flap open. Slowly he turned his head, but only far enough that she could hear his raised whisper.

  “The Colonel.”

  The sleeping baby in her arms, Annie stood to take Winona back to the cradle in her tent, when the Colonel and Twila appeared.

  The Colonel, stooped over with grief and grey in the face, came over and stared down at the sleeping baby. Annie wondered how he felt now that the mother of his child was dead. A child herself. Annie’s stomach flipped, and she couldn’t meet the Colonel’s eyes. He reached out and with a weathered finger stroked Winona’s cheek.

  “The sheriff and coroner will come retrieve Ki—the body, after we’ve done right by her with a Sioux funeral,” the Colonel said. “Said they would let us know what happened to her.” His voice sounded tight, gravelly, like he struggled to speak every word.

  “Good. That’s good. Where is she now?”

  “Her bothers are preparing her body. We’re going to move her in here.

  LeFleur said he’d bunk with the cowboys tonight. You can go back to your tent, get some rest. Twila will care for the baby for the time being.”

  Twila stepped forward, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. Did she know that the Colonel fathered Winona? If so, Annie now understood Twila’s resentment of Kimi. Could she have resented her enough to pummel her with angry fists? Resented her enough to kill her? Annie, too, wanted to hear the report from the coroner. As soon as possible.

  Twila held out her arms for Winona.

  Every instinct told Annie not to hand the baby over to this sullen woman.

  “But—” she started to protest.

  “I don’t have the time, energy, or the inclination to argue with anyone at this moment, Miss Oakley. I know you were fond of Kimi, and I know you have a special attachment to this child, but please do as I say,” said the Colonel.

  Twila’s lips pursed in smug gratification, and Annie swallowed down the retort on her tongue. With stiff and reluctant arms, she held Winona out from her body and placed the baby into Twila’s grasp.

  Sick to her stomach at Twila’s victory, Annie rushed out of the tent and ran through the torch-lit camp to her tent, the crisp night air cold on her face. She noticed the fire from the morning still smoldering, and the tea tin that usually resided on her trunk sitting on a rock next to the fire pit. One of the porcelain teacups she and Winona shared lay on its side, partially empty.

  Annie picked up the cup and stared into the remaining liquid, its color darkened by the mashed tea leaves, and then dumped the contents into the fire. It spit and sizzled, then died, a trail of fragrant smoke winding up to the sky. With tea tin and cup in hand, Annie stepped into her tent, retreating from the ugly realities outside.

  Annie set the tin and cup back on her trunk and slumped onto her bed. She pressed her hands to her face, her mind still reeling with the shocking reality of Kimi’s death. Would Kimi be able to rest in peace with the fate of her child in Twila’s grip?

  Unable to relax, Annie got up from the bed and paced the floor of her tent. Her gaze fell to Kimi’s calico scarf lying in the corner. She picked it up and held it to her chest, thinking she’d have to remember to give it to Twila for Winona. The thought of Kimi’s scarf, too, in Twila’s possession disturbed Annie further, so she tossed it into her wardrobe. Giving the scarf to Twila could wait.

  Back on the bed, Annie stared at the candle on her desk, still lit,
but soon to go out. Secure in the knowledge that the flame would snuff itself out at any moment, and not caring that it would burn out before Lillie’s return, Annie tilted back to lie on the bed again when she noticed a glint of something on the ground next to her trunk.

  Curiosity propelled her to get on her hands and knees and crawl over to the shimmering object.

  A gold coin lay on the carpet next to some ground tea leaves.

  Annie reasoned that the leaves fell to the floor when Kimi prepared her evening tea, but what about the coin? Kimi didn’t have access to anything that valuable. Neither did Annie, for that matter. Lillie hadn’t been in the tent ten minutes before she’d headed to the saloon, so who did this coin belong to, and why was it on her tent floor?

  The next morning the Colonel called a quick meeting, stating he didn’t want anyone in the camp discussing Kimi’s death. Annie assumed he didn’t want the newspaper reporters, and the public they entertained, to know that he’d fathered Winona.

  Later that day, the Colonel conducted a small service for Kimi in LeFleur’s tent. The crew had pushed all the furniture, except the bed and the massive, weathered trunk, against the canvas wall. Kimi’s brothers Michante and Nakota placed Kimi’s body on an ornately carved wooden table in the center of the room.

  Kimi’s brothers, wearing deerskin tunics decorated with multicolored beads, seashells, and animal teeth, bore the same high cheekbones and strong jaw as Kimi. Eagle feathers adorned their long, ebony braids, and their formal attire glittered in the tent’s candlelight.

  The Colonel, LeFleur, Twila, Bobby, and Annie stood in silence as the brothers painted Kimi’s face with a watery red paste made from oil and clay.

  Annie snuck a look at Bobby, his face crumpling with emotion. He plunked his hat on his head and left. Annie thought about going after him, but staying for the service seemed more important.

  Michante, the tall brother, his face streaked with tears, took a buck knife and cut a lock of hair from the left side of Kimi’s head, wrapped it in a piece of calico and placed it in a small muslin bag. Nakota placed bundles of food, her hairbrush, and jewelry around Kimi’s body to be buried with her for the afterlife. Annie noticed the butterfly necklace placed strategically around Kimi’s neck.