Captive Trail by Susan Page Davis Read Free Book Online Page A

obvious. Taabe pointed to her own clothing. Though she wanted to leave the Comanche life, the flowing black dresses frightened her. She wished they offered a dress like the woman who’d visited yesterday had worn. That looked right to Taabe—more normal for a woman from the world of the whites. Though the cloth was a drab brown, the skirt had nipped in at the woman’s waist. The top fastened in the front, with a row of small, round buttons. The costume wouldn’t give her the freedom of her leggings and loose buckskin dress, but something inside her longed to wear a similar outfit. Was that what she had worn when she was little?
    The robed woman pointed to Taabe and spoke her name, then pointed to herself. “Adele. Sister Adele.”
    Taabe frowned. “Ah-dell.”
    Her visitor smiled and nodded. She beckoned with her hand then helped Taabe rise. The pain made her hold her breath. Adele pulled her close, indicating that Taabe should lean on her. They hobbled across a dim hallway, to another room where a tub of hot water waited. Taabe’s heart raced. Were they going to cook her? She drew back, almost falling when the pain in her ankle stabbed her.
    Adele caught her and spoke softly, with words like a gently rippling stream. She pointed to the tub and made a scrubbing motion on her face.
    So it was for washing. Taabe nodded cautiously. Why so much water? It must have taken a great deal of effort to carry and heat so much.
    Adele pretended to scrub her own arms. Taabe nodded again. Her companion leaned over and mimed scrubbing her legs. She drew Taabe a step toward the tub and reached down, skimming her hand through the water. She smiled at Taabe and jerked her head toward the tub.
    Slowly, Taabe stooped and touched the water with her fingertips. It was warm, but not so hot that it burned. Adele tugged at the skirt of Taabe’s gown, then mimed removing the robe. She pointed to the tub. Taabe paused then nodded. Perhaps they wanted her to wash her garment after she’d washed herself.
    Adele pointed to some folded cloths and a lump of something white—it looked like tallow—on a small wooden table near the tub and spoke again.
    Taabe frowned. As nearly as she could tell, she was to scrub herself all over and wash her white dress. She balanced herself on her uninjured leg, pulled the dress over her head, and dropped it in the tub.
    Adele’s mouth opened wide. She stared at the dress floating in the water, then at Taabe.
    Taabe’s stomach roiled. What had she done wrong?
    Adele clapped a hand to her mouth.
    The older woman, Natalie, pushed aside the curtain in the doorway, peered in, and spoke. Adele answered and pointed to the tub. Natalie came closer and peered into the water. She and Adele looked at each other and began to laugh.

CHAPTER FIVE
    N ed was glad to be back home. He and Brownie sat in the dining room at the ranch, having coffee with Patrillo and neighboring
    rancher Reece Jones. Ned had told the others about the woman they’d found and the events that followed. “Papa.” Benito stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the large dining and living room of their ranch. “What is it?” Patrillo asked his oldest son. “Quinta is supposed to help cook tonight, and she’s at the corral watching Marcos ride that colt of his.”
    Patrillo stood and went to the front door. He shouted in Spanish, “Quinta! It’s your turn to help prepare supper. Get around to the kitchen and help your brother. Now!” After a moment he turned and sauntered back to the table where the men were enjoying their coffee.
    Reece, who had been shooting the breeze with Patrillo and his boys when the stage arrived, had moved to Texas from Arkansas twenty years ago—and managed to keep his scalp andrun a motley herd of cattle. He also helped out occasionally when Patrillo had a large freighting contract and needed an extra driver.
    “So, the first mail run turned out to be an adventure,” Reece said as Tree resumed his seat.