Heart Of Coal

Chapter Four: A Woman Can Only Be Saved

It felt like Colette had blinked, and then three weeks had passed. Miss Grimshaw kept her and the other girls busy, even getting Sadie to remove her dirty nightgown and help around the camp. That particular evening, a lot of the men were out for the night, with just John and Charles guarding the sight on opposite sides.
Horseshoe Overlook was on a cliff that faced a wide, stretched river that ran across the earth like a scar. Colette often sat on the edge, imagining what her mother was doing. If her father was searching for her. If Cornwall was.
She'd not heard anything about her family or her fiance. A very small part of her felt a slither of relief at her fate. She wasn't marrying a man so much older than herself- one she didn't love or even like. Guilt always followed that thought- the guilt of her parents not knowing if she was alive, and the guilt of not being able to save her family from their debt. Cornwall had been her one chance to fix everything- and if that meant she was to be a breeding mare for a rich, unlikable man then so be it. She had accepted that fate from the moment she had given Cornwall a fake, indulging smile and let him kiss her hand with his cold, wet mouth.
The sun was just touching the earth when Colette saw, from the corner of her eye, Sadie sit on a boulder near her. The woman often spent her time at sunset staring listlessly at the horizon. Although Colette would never wish to be in Sadie's shoes, she wondered what it felt like, to love someone so deeply and then to lose them, that even the most beautiful sunset could bring no joy. That jealousy surprised and disgusted her.
That feeling fueled her to get up from her seat and approach Sadie, sitting quietly next to her.
"Sadie," Colette said cautiously, looking around to make sure no one was near, "I... I'm leaving- I'm going to steal a horse and leave- will you come with me?"
Sadie's brows pulled together in a frown and she looked at Colette, with the first glimpse of emotion she'd seen on her face.
"Where would we go?"
Colette breathed excitedly, taking it as a good sign that Sadie even considered her proposal. "We could go to Valentine," she gushed, grabbing Sadie's hand tightly, "we could find the nearest police station and tell them everything."
Sadie pulled her hand from her grasp and turned to fully face her.
"I ain't a snitch," said Sadie angrily, "I might not be happy, Miss Silverstone, but these people saved me."
"But-"
"There ain't no but about it," she rasped in her gravelly voice. "I won't stop you from running, but don't betray these people."
Colette turned away and watched as the sun crept behind the earth, leaving darkness in its wake. The darkness matched her heart as fear clouded her body. She was going alone, a feat that was scarier than the prospect of stealing a horse.
Sadie got to her feet and kneeled in front of her, their eyes on the same level.
"Colette," Sadie said softly, "sometimes, a man- even a policeman- can not save you. A woman has to save herself."
"Like you did?" said Colette nastily.
Sadie smiled grimly at her before heading back to camp without a backward glance. Colette took a steadying breath and headed for the tent she shared with the other women, feigning exhaustion as she curled up on the thick furs on the hard floor. Her small satchel tucked under her makeshift pillow, she watched between her eyelashes as the rest of the camp slowly took themselves to bed. At her back, Sadie took the spot next to her, and Colette silently thanked the woman for that small favor. At least she wouldn't risk waking up one of the other girls when she snuck to the horses, which were luckily stationed right behind their wagon.
When the moon was at her peak, the slither of light it provided was good cover as Colette quietly pulled her dress over her nightgown and her coat over her shoulders. After securing the satchel over her shoulder, she caught the open, watchful eyes of Sadie before she nodded once and rolled over.
Colette crept around the wagon, keeping an eye out for any sentries. A lot of the usual horses were missing, with Micah and Lenny still away from camp and a few others having left to find some prospects in the town of Valentine. The old drunkard that everyone called Uncle was asleep on the ground near the horses, unnervingly close to some fresh manure. The sound of his snores covered her footsteps as she looked at the unsaddled horses in front of her. She didn't know the first thing about putting on a saddle, that was something the servants at her home had done for her. But despite this flaw, she was an okay rider. Riding bareback would have to do.
Briddled to the nearest post was an American Paint horse, her vibrant blue eyes looking calmly at Colette as she approached. She reached her hand towards the horse, palm up so that the mare could smell her with her pink nose. The mare lipped her fingers and breathed heavily against Colette's wrist.
"You're a good girl," Colette whispered, wrapping her hands in her reddish brown and white mane. With a quiet grunt of effort, Colette ungracefully pulled herself onto the horse, using the scrap of rope the horse had been tied with as a makeshift rein.
Looking at the sleeping figures around the camp, Colette quietly urged the mare forward.
"Hey!" an angry voice called out. It was Charles, and he spotted her a lot earlier than she had planned.
She dug her booted heels into the horse's ribs, causing the mare to surge forward suddenly. Colette leaned in close to her strong neck, her face barely peeking over the horse's erect ears.
The trees blurred past her in dark shadows as she let the mare lead the way.
"Come on girl," she gasped, digging her heels in again, surging them forward.
As she got out of the woods and out onto the plains, the sound of a pursuer reached her ears. She briefly glanced over her shoulder and spotted Charles on his mare racing behind her, but so far there were no other riders. She veered towards the main road, knowing it led to Valentine. Once she was in the town Charles would be unable to stop her with all those eyes watching. Dutch told them all to be inconspicuous, and pulling a woman off her horse as she kicked and screamed would be the complete opposite of that.
This was the only thought that kept her from crying in fear as she heard Charles catching up to her. He was gaining on her when she saw the silhouettes of three men on horseback, and she cried in relief.
"Please!" she cried out, "Please help me!"
It was already too late when she recognised the features of the men in front of her. It was Arthur, Bill and Hosea, coming back from a night of debauchery. Without hesitation she steered the horse off the road, racing for the dark hills to her right.
She heard the muffled swearing of the men as they followed after her, and she felt the shuddering breath of the horse as she started to tire.
It was over. She wasn't going to escape. All those weeks of planning and it was futile. She slowly pulled the mare to a stop, crying silently as she hid her face in the horse's mane. Sadie had been wrong- a woman couldn't save herself and she had been a fool to think she could manage it. As always, that control was out of her hands, and no matter how hard she fought for even a fraction of it, it would always be out of her grasp and in the fists of men.
The first to catch her was Arthur, and he looked at her sadly as he silently grabbed the reins of her horse. She looked at him and started crying again, the tears blurring his features. She hated him for his pity. And she hated herself more for being so deserving of it. It had taken her so long, but she finally broke. She said nothing as Arthur led her back to the others. And she still said nothing as some of them scoffed at her and others avoided her gaze. Bill swore under his breath about the stupidity of women and it took Hosea telling him to shut his mouth for him to finally let up.
Back in the woods near camp, Hosea rode up beside her and grabbed her hand gently. She blankly looked up at him, not bothering to pull her hand from his.
"I'm so sorry my girl," he said sadly, "I'm so sorry we've dragged you into this."
She nodded at him, not having the strength to respond with either a negative remark or a positive one. When they arrived at camp, a few of the others were awake, and Colette spotted Sadie as she stood like a ghost at the end of the camp. Colette averted her eyes, ashamed of her failure and the foolish, childish idea she had concocted.
Dutch watched her from the camp, an angry frown shaping his mouth, but he didn't come towards them. Instead he led a smirking Molly back into their tent, the redhead's eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion.
After a moment of whispering and staring, the camp made their way back to their beds. Meanwhile, Arthur got off his own mare, a large buckskin Dutch Warmblood with a nasty temper, and led her away from the other horses. Colette still stayed atop her mare, defeated.
Arthur approached them, still as silent as herself, and led the exhausted pair to a nearby post. He raised his arms toward her, gently taking her waist.
Colette blinked in surprise at the contact and looked at Arthur's face, seeing the compassion and empathy there.
"Come on girl," he said softly to her, like she herself was a startled mare.
She nodded, swinging her leg over and bracing her hands on his broad shoulders as he gently supported her as she slid off the side of the horse. Her legs felt like crumbling but Arthur braced her. Sobs racked her body as she rested her forehead on his chest and let out weeks of sadness and fear.
He patted her back as he held her, and Colette let the warmth of his body calm her wretched heart. After a moment, he pulled away, coughing awkwardly as he looked around, a hand at the back of his neck.
Colette mentally shook herself and looked up at him.
"Thank you, Arthur," she said softly. "Thank you for letting me break."
"Miss Silverstone," he said gruffly, "I think you're nowhere near as broken as you think you are."
She choked a laugh. "There you go again Morgan, thinking."
He humored her with a smile and watched her walk back to her tent like a ghost, and his heart ached with guilt at the fact that his decisions had brought her to this point.

—--

The next morning, Colette's eyes burned like they were filled with sand from the river below. The bed rolls next to her were cold, telling her that the others had been up for a while. She was ready to close her eyes and fall back into that painless dream realm when Sadie sat down on the wet grass in front of her, not caring as it stained her borrowed dress.
"How are you?" she croaked in that voice of hers.
Despite the despair she felt, she gave Sadie an incredulous look.
Sadie chuckled, and it was a wicked sound. "Yeah, that was a stupid question. Want to help me skin some of the hunt Charles brought in? Pearson is an insufferable old toad and I could really use the company."
Colette considered refusing her, but saw it as the apology Sadie meant it to be. Colette forced herself into a sitting position.
"I don't know how to skin an animal," she said, reaching behind her and plaiting her hair.
Sadie stood and grabbed Colette's dirty, pale blue dress from the wagon, dropping it in the woman's lap.
"I'll show you," Sadie said with a smirk. "I find it helps with my never ending frustration with men- a feeling I'm sure you're familiar with."
Colette grinned, pulling the dress over her head, flattening the skirts in an attempt to look presentable, but even Sadie saw it as a lost cause. And Sadie wasn't exactly refined company. Yet Colette preferred it that way- a person so foreign to herself offering her some guidance was a light in the dark.
Pearsons tent smelt nearly as bad as he did. And the only thing worse than his smell, was his personality, which could only be compared to that of a drunk, belligerent bear after a rough hibernation.
She blanched as Sadie handed her a skinny, adorable rabbit.
"You can't be serious," she gasped, bile rising in her throat.
Sadie and Pearson laughed at her, but not in a way that made her defensive.
"Okay," she said reluctantly, "show me how to brutalize this poor, dead creature then."
They spent the remainder of the late morning skinning animals and cutting the meat from the bones, removing the parts they wouldn't eat and passing Pearson the meat that was to be used for the stew. After a while, Colette let the work carry her mind away, and she thought of nothing but the muscles and tendons of the animals in front of her.
It was a few hours before a shadow darkened her work table. Dutch stood next to them, his eyes locked on the mess the women had made of their dresses and hands. Colette tried to wipe the hair out of her eyes and cringed as she smeared blood on her forehead. Dutch handed her a white cloth to wipe her face and hands with.
"I'd like a word with you, Miss Silverstone," he said cordially. "If you can spare her, Pearson?"
The camp cook grunted and went back to his cooking. Sadie sent a questioning look to Dutch which he promptly ignored as he led the way to his tent. He pulled the tent flap back and held it for her as she ducked inside. Molly wasn't perched in her usual spot, and Colette paused nervously.
"About last night Dutch-"
"Take a seat, Miss SIlverstone," he said, interrupting her and pouring two glasses of whiskey.
She reluctantly sat on the stool in the far corner, looking at the small pile of books near her feet.
Dutch sat on his cot, handing her a glass of whiskey before taking a bracing sip of his own.
Colette sipped the drink, and shuddered as it burned her throat. She coughed and blinked the tears from her eyes. She'd never had a drink before, her mother had warned her against the vulnerability that alcohol brought. The lack of control. Not that that was something Colette had to worry about losing.
"The stunt you pulled last night not only put yourself in danger," he said angrily, "but also my family. Do you know what I usually do to people who endanger my family?"
Colette inhaled deeply, fear making her angry. "Something dreadful I imagine."
"This is no joking matter," he snapped. "You want out of this camp? Well, the feeling is mutual- but how can I trust that you won't betray us the minute we let you go?"
She laughed bitterly, "let's not lie to each other, Mr Van der Linde. You'll never trust me- and I'll never see my family again. So don't you talk to me about family, when you have completely disregarded mine!"
"Your family was happy to marry you off to the highest bidder," Dutch said, his temper causing his voice to rise. "How can you even understand the love of family after that sorry excuse of parents."
Colette stood up, gripping the whiskey tightly in her shaking hand.
"How is that any different to what you do?" she yelled back, "is it love that has you sending your so called sons into danger every single day."
Silence followed, even the camp outside was quiet, as if they had heard the entire argument.
Colette gulped a large sip of whiskey and spluttered through coughs again. "And, Dutch," she sneered, "your whiskey is cheap shit that tastes like oil!"
Dutch barked a laugh that seemed to surprise him more than it did her, and he threw back the rest of his whiskey, before walking over to the table and grabbing the glass from her hand. He placed them down and filled them to the brim before handing the glass back to her.
He knocked his glass against hers and brought it to his lips.
This time, as she drank down the whiskey, she held back her coughs and drained the glass.
Dutch smiled.