“Randy Cooper,” she spoke firmly, “You had best remember how to treat your horse or you may soon find yourself afoot.”
She stood up then and reached her hands out to caress the horse’s head. “There now, boy. Has Randy been too hard on you? Randy...” The woman’s words died when she heard the muffled crying of a small child.
Randy Cooper removed his slicker, untied the child’s wrists, and eased him down into his sister’s waiting arms. “Brought you a present, Nan,” he said gruffly, “Thought you could use the company.”
Nan hugged the small one to her bosom and crooned softly to him while gently swaying from side to side. “There, there, baby. Nan’s got you now and I won’t let Randy scare you anymore.”
Hearing the name ‘Randy’ from under the darkness of the slicker had triggered the first desperate, tearful outburst from the child. Having not heard the name spoken for over two months, the child startled as the slicker was pulled off him. He jerked his head in every direction, looking for his beloved uncle. When his eyes failed to discover the familiar face, he screamed in terror as the reality of the past many weeks came crushing down on him. “Daddy gone, Daddy gone,” wailed the small voice, “Mama, Mama, Mama...!”
“Where are his parents?” Nan clutched the child close.
“Dead.” Cooper replied flatly as he dismounted, trailed the reins, and left his horse ground hitched.
“He is dressed like an Indian. Yet he has curly hair.” Nan ran her fingers through the wavy locks, “And he speaks English.”
“He was stole by some murderin’ redskins.”
“How did you come by him?” Nan turned her empty blue eyes in his direction and Sargent Cooper had the uncomfortable feeling she could see right into his soul. Somehow her sightlessness seemed to be compensated for by an uncanny ability to detect falsehood. Her brother had already learned that it was senseless to lie to his sister. He had learned long ago to simply not give her an answer if he wished to withhold anything from her knowledge.
This time he decided to answer her, “My men and I discovered a hunting party on patrol yesterday. He was with them.”
“You killed them all?” Nan winced at the thought and cuddled the crying child.
“You don’t have to look at me like that. They could have been the very ones that murdered your boys and the rest of our kinfolk.”
“That’s what you said before. When’s it all going to stop, Randy! ‘Vengeance is mine saith the Lord!’”
“Now don’t you start that preachin’ stuff at me. I’ll not have it. Maybe it won’t stop until every last thieving, murdering redskin is wiped off the face of the earth!” Suddenly Sergeant Cooper was aware of the truth of his reply. He had kept his vow and had avenged his family but the blood lust had not left him.
“They’re heathen. They’ve cut their teeth on killing. That boy you’re holdin’ there---given a few more years---would have been taught the fine art of scalp takin’ and numerous ways to torture a body even before he was grown to manhood. And, being a breed, he’d probably take to it like a duck to water. There’s not a white man, woman, or child who can sleep safe in their own beds as long as even one of those murderin’ devils walks this earth!”
“Enough, Randy! You’re scaring this baby. Bridle your tongue!” Nan’s words were forceful. Her brother was silenced momentarily but continued to fume.
“Why did you call him a breed? You said you found him a captive.” Nan sat down in the rocking chair and sat the child on her lap. Then, gently her fingers searched out the features on the little one’s face.
“He’s dark enough for a breed or Mex and those black eyes he’s got can put a bead on you. I’d have put a bullet in him for sure if that crippled redskin that stood in the way hadn’t said he was white and called out his name.”
“His name?”
“Davy Shepherd. It about made my hair stand on end when that redskin opened his mouth and spoke the King’s English. And then to speak a name like that. No wonder I was rattled; rattled enough to spare that whelp and bring him to you. And now seeing him in the ligh