O, who but can recall the eve they met
To breathe, in some green walk,
Their first young vow?
—CHARLES SWAIN
Filled with a breathless daring, Stephanie rode up to Fort Defiance and entered its gate. She ignored the stares of the soldiers as she drew a tight rein before the main headquarters, in the back of which building were the holding cells for those prisoners awaiting transfer to the main jail in Gallup.
Gathering courage from the love she felt for Runner, and now also for his people, Stephanie stopped only long enough to look up at the great adobe building with its immense thick walls and deep, barred windows. Knowing the importance of achieving her goal, a shiver ran through her. It also made an empty feeling at the pit of her stomach to realize that Adam was responsible for all of this, and that she was being forced to turn her back on him.
She thought back to the last several years, when she had shared so much with her stepbrother. Their feelings for one another had been so genuine. Only when he had become driven to have that which seemed impossible, wanting to immortalize himself by establishing a town and having it named after him, had she seen their mutual understanding of one another begin to crumble. Yes, she wanted a dream, herself, but she had never thought it would be at the expense of others.
Now she understood that even her dream was wrong. At this moment, she knew that she would not be able to send back any photographs to Wichita. She wanted no part in bringing more tourists to this land that should belong solely to the Navaho.
With those thoughts, Stephanie went on inside the building.
No one made any attempts to stop her, for she was a mere woman, no threat to anyone. Even the derringer strapped to her waist caused no apprehension on the soldiers’ parts. They all smiled at her flirtatiously.
Those who wore hats tipped them politely to her. Others made way for her with a mocking curtsy as she moved up to the oak desk where a burly man sat in fringed buckskins, instead of a uniform.
Colonel Utley brushed papers aside as he gazed up at Stephanie. His narrow lips flickered into a flirting smile. “Now ain’t you a brave miss to be wanderin’ about alone,” he said. He rested his elbows on his desk and placed his fingertips together before him. “Ain’t you afraid of Injuns?”
He looked her up and down. His eyes stopped on her derringer. “Now ain’t that a bad-lookin’ weapon,” he said, chuckling as he looked slowly into her eyes again. “But don’t you know? I doubt that could even kill a snake.”
“I haven’t come here to talk about snakes, or my derringer, and I am most certainly not afraid of Indians,” Stephanie finally had the courage to say. “I’m here for only one reason.”
“And that is?” Colonel Utley said, leaning toward her over the desktop.
“To tell you that you’ve jailed the wrong man,” Stephanie said. Her pulse raced at the thought of being only moments away from condemning her very own stepbrother of the crime that Thunder Hawk had been incarcerated for.
She hoped that Sally wouldn’t hate her. But even if she did, Stephanie had no other choice but to tell the truth as she knew it.
“What’s that you say?” Colonel Utley said, pushing himself up from the leather desk chair. He circled the desk and stood face-to-face with Stephanie, his height being no more than hers. “I’ve more than one man in the holding jail. “Which one have you come to speak for?”
Stephanie swallowed hard. “Thunder Hawk,” she blurted out, flinching when she saw the instant guarded warning in Colonel Utley’s eyes. “He didn’t blow up the train. I absolutely know for certain that he’s innocent.”
“And horses?” Colonel Utley growled out. “Can you say for certain that he didn’t steal horses from Damon Stout?”
She paled at the mention of the horses that he was also accused of stealing. She would never forget finding Runner and the other Navaho that night with all of the horses. Perhaps they were all guilty of horse stealing? Oh, Lord, then what could she do about any of this? She had to keep the focus on the train. Only on the train.
“Can you say that you are certain, sir, of his guilt?” Stephanie said, lifting her chin. “Thunder Hawk is innocent and you know it.”
“Why in hell would you say such a dumb-ass thing as that?” Colonel Utley said, flailing a chubby hand in the air. “He’s as guilty as sin and you know it.”
“You are wrong,” Stephanie said, boldly. “I am right.”
“Proof,” Colonel Utley mumbled, going to sit down at the desk again. He propped his feet up on the desk, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I need proof. Especially from an obvious Injun lover.”
“Proof?” Stephanie said. She leaned her hands on the desk so that her eyes were once again level with Colonel Utley’s. “Would it be proof enough if I said that my very own stepbrother hired someone to blow up the train so that the blame would be cast on the Indians? If you would investigate things more carefully, I am just as certain that my brother is behind double-crossing Thunder Hawk to make him look guilty of horse stealing.”
She sighed and removed her hands from the desk. Her eyes wavered. “I would never put blame on my stepbrother unless I was absolutely certain,” she said, her voice breaking.
“I ain’t never come across anything like this before,” Colonel Utley said, searching Stephanie’s face with squinted eyes. “Tell me. What’s your brother’s name?”
“Adam,” Stephanie said, finding it hard to believe any of this was happening. “Adam Jones. A short while ago, he and I arrived on a train on the private spur. And the man he paid to blow up a train today? I am certain you know him. Damon Stout is his name.”
The colonel’s eyes narrowed. He scooted to the edge of his chair, his knuckles white as he clutched tightly to the arms. “Damon?” he said. “Damon Stout? I sure as hell do know him. He’s here often enough with one complaint or another.”