“I assure you, Mrs. Truesdale,” Summer managed to reply evenly, remembering the reply Lance had once given to a similar accusation, “I haven’t murdered anyone recently, as I recall.”
Martha stared for a moment, and then her mouth took on a contemptuous sneer. “How can we be sure? What kind of heathen tricks have you learned, married to that savage Injun?”
“My husband is not a savage, Mrs. Truesdale.”
“You’re a liar!” Her eyes turned a bit wild, while her voice rose to a near shriek. “He is so—and so are you, copulating with that stinking devil! You’ll just get yourself a litter of half-breeds and turn them loose to murder and rape.”
With a virulent scowl, she turned and stalked from the room, shutting the door forcefully behind her.
Trembling at having such hatred directed toward her, Summer looked at her sister, hoping Melly hadn’t paid any mind to the woman’s viciousness.
Amelia was clutching her stomach, staring down at herself. “Oh, God…no…I may be pregnant,” she breathed, her shaken voice barely audible. “What if I’m pregnant? What if I’m breeding one of those savages? God wouldn’t do that to me, would He?”
Her own thoughts similarly stricken, Summer held a hand to her own stomach. She might be carrying Lance’s child even now.
But she couldn’t think about herself right then, not when her sister had suddenly turned hysterical. Amelia had curled her hand in a fist and was beating her abdomen. “I won’t have it, I won’t have a Comanche baby!”
“Melly, stop, for God’s sake, please stop! You’ll hurt yourself.”
She grasped her sister’s hands, pinning them to her sides, which only made her more frantic. Writhing, Amelia began screaming, pleading for her to stop. It was only when Summer released her altogether that her panic lessened and her shrieks turned to gasping wails. Turning her face to the pillow, Amelia curled in a ball beneath the covers, weeping piteously. “I don’t…want a…a breed baby…I don’t!”
“I know, dearest, I know. But maybe it won’t happen.” Her heart aching, Summer brushed Amelia’s damp hair off her forehead. It was possible Amelia had been impregnated by her Comanche captors, but perhaps unlikely. She had never conceived during her four-year marriage.
“We’ll face that situation if we come to it, Melly. Now, please, you have to quit thinking about it. You’ll make yourself sick.”
“Summer…I want to go home.”
“Yes, I know, Melly. And we will. Just as soon as Lance returns, we’ll leave.”
“No, I want to go now.”
When Summer didn’t answer at once, Amelia suddenly ceased crying and reached up to grab her sister’s hand.
“Please, Summer, tomorrow…Promise me you’ll take me home tomorrow. Promise me…”
She tried to look away from her sister’s bleak eyes, her tearstained cheeks, but she couldn’t. Nor could she deny Amelia whatever she asked for, no matter how irrational or difficult. “Yes, Melly, whatever you want. We’ll discuss it in the morning. Now, go to sleep, darling. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Her hope that Amelia would forget about her promise never had a chance to take root. Amelia woke her at daybreak, eagerly making plans for the journey. She wanted to go home to Sky Valley that very day and wouldn’t listen to reason or rational arguments.
“You, promised!” Amelia cried when Summer tried to explain why she couldn’t leave just yet.
“I know, Melly, but Lance expects us to be here when he gets back.”
Amelia’s eyes brimmed and her lower lip started quivering.
Summer bit her own lip. She had promised her sister, but she had also promised Lance to wait for his return. What would he think when he arrived to find her gone?
“I never imagined,” Amelia said accusingly, “that you would care more about a half-breed than your own flesh and blood.”
“Please, don’t call him that. Not after all he’s done for us.”
Amelia started crying. “I hate him! I don’t want to wait for him.”
Torn between her sister and her husband, Summer agreed at least to inquire about the stage schedule.
She wished she hadn’t. Billy knew exactly when the stage was due to head south—at one o’clock that afternoon.
“See, Summer?” Amelia pleaded. “We have to leave today. the stage won’t come through town for four more days, and I can’t stand to wait that long. I hate it here! Please? Billy will drive us into Belknap, won’t you, Billy? If we can’t afford the price of the tickets, we can borrow the money from Martha.”