“I should love to give it a go,” Edward remarked.
“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Chance replied.
“I had no idea the country was so large,” Rosalia said when they were riding again. “I have seen part of it from the train, of course, but it seems so much grander now.”
They stopped again to watch a pair of eagles soaring overhead.
“Quanto bello,” Rosalia murmured. How beautiful.
Edward nodded in agreement.
It was shortly after they had eaten the midday meal that the Indians found them. A dozen Cheyenne warriors.
Rosalia’s face went pale. Edward’s posture stiffened as he guided his horse alongside his wife’s.
Chance frowned when he saw Edward reach inside his coat. “If that’s a gun you’re reaching for, leave it be.”
Edward stared at him. “Surely you mean to fight?”
“Not if I don’t have to. Just sit easy and keep your hands out where they can see them.”
“Eduardo…” Rosalia looked at her husband, her eyes wide with fear.
“You’re just gonna have to trust me on this,” Chance said. “If you draw that weapon, we’re as good as dead.”
They were surrounded now. Chance forced himself to sit easy in the saddle. The Indians were Cheyenne, a hunting party from the looks of it. Chance raised his hand in the traditional sign of peace, careful to keep clear of his gun.
One of the Cheyenne warriors rode forward a little. He frowned as his gaze moved over Chance. “You are one of us,” he said, speaking in Cheyenne and sign language, “yet you dress as our enemy.” He looked at Rosalia and Edward. “You ride with our enemy.”
“I am Wolf Shadow of the Lakota,” Chance replied in halting Cheyenne. “These people have come to visit their daughter, who is also daughter to the Lakota.”
The warrior grunted softly. “I am Chases Thunder of the Cheyenne.”
Chance gestured at the pack horses, which were heavily laden with meat. “I see the hunting has been good.”
Chases Thunder nodded. “Maheo has blessed us this day.” Riding back toward the pack horses, he took the lead rope of the nearest one. Leading the animal toward Chance, he offered him the lead rope.
“Hahoo,” Chance said, taking the rope. Dismounting, he went to his own pack horse and withdrew a pound of sugar and a sack of coffee, which he offered to Chases Thunder.
The warrior accepted the gifts with a nod. “Hahoo,” he said, and wheeling his horse around, he rode away, followed by the rest of the hunters.
Edward withdrew a snowy handkerchief from his inside coat pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. Rosalia’s shoulders slumped as she blew out a deep breath.
With a wry grin, Chance tied the Cheyenne pony’s lead rope to the tail of his own pack horse, then swung into the saddle. “You two ready?”
Edward looked at his wife. “Are you ready, my dear?”
Rosalia looked at Chance. “Were they…friends of yours?”
“No, ma’am. Just some hunters on their way home. Thanks to them, we’ll have fresh meat for dinner.”
Rosalia glanced at the deer draped over the Cheyenne pony, her pale face growing even paler at the sight of the carcass slung over the horse’s withers.
With a shake of his head, Chance clucked to his horse. The woman must have eaten meat before. Where did she think it came from?
He should have just kidnapped Winter Rain and worried about making things right with Kills-Like-a-Hawk and the People later. It would have been a hell of a lot easier, he mused with a wry grin. And a hell of a lot faster.
Chapter Eighteen
As the days turned to weeks, Winter Rain gave up hope that Wolf Shadow would return. She resigned herself to the fact that she would never see him again, and told herself she didn’t care.
And then, quite unexpectedly, she woke one morning certain that he was nearby. At first, she told herself she was being foolish, that she only felt that way because she missed him so very very much.
But as the day progressed, the feeling grew stronger. There was no explanation for her feelings but as dusk approached, she could no longer deny them, and even as she told herself she was being ridiculous, she was walking away from the camp toward the trail that led into the hollow.
She was out of breath when she reached the top of the rise. The setting sun cast pale pink shadows over the grassland. Standing there, with one hand pressed to her side, she searched the narrow winding trail that led upward, looking for some sign of a rider. She saw squirrels running back and forth, chasing each other from tree to tree. She saw birds flitting from branch to branch. She saw a skunk delicately picking its way through the underbrush, but no sign of a tall man on a bay mare.
Heart heavy with disappointment, she was about to turn away when a rider wearing a long black coat and a black hat emerged from around a bend in the trail.
Winter Rain felt a shiver of excitement course through her. Though he was still too far away for her to see his face, her heart recognized him at once. Wolf Shadow had come back, just as Kills-Like-a-Hawk promised. Happiness blossomed inside her. He was here, at last!
She frowned when she saw two other riders, a man and a woman, riding in Wolf Shadow’s wake.
It couldn’t be. She blinked at them and blinked again as they drew nearer. Could it be? Unable to believe her eyes, she moved further down the trail, her gaze riveted on the woman’s face. She was beautiful, so beautiful.
“Mama?”
Winter Rain stood there, frozen, as the trio rode up the trail to where she waited, her heart pounding with trepidation.
What should she say? What would her…her parents think when they saw her? Would they be disappointed?
And, then, too soon, they were there.
Wolf Shadow drew his horse to a halt and her parents stopped behind him.
Leaning forward in the saddle, her mother started to say something to Wolf Shadow when she saw Winter Rain standing on the side of the trail. She stared at Winter Rain for several moments, and then Rosalia was off her horse and running toward Winter Rain, her arms outstretched, tears welling in her eyes.
“Teressa! Mia bambina! Dio Di Elogio!”
Edward Bryant climbed out of the saddle and hurried after his wife. “Teressa! Is it really you?”
And then she was swallowed up in her parents’ arms as they hugged her and kissed her, both of them murmuring her name over and over again.
Tears filled Winter Rain’s eyes as the warmth of her parents’ love surrounded her. Any doubts she’d had were swept away by a rush of memories—memories of her mother tucking her into bed at night, brushing her hair, reading to her, teaching her to do needlepoint; memories of her father taking her to the zoo, holding her hand as they crossed the street, teaching her to ride her first pony, listening to her prayers. How could she ever have forgotten them?
Chance leaned forward in the saddle, his arms crossed on the horn, watching the reunion. He felt a tug in the region of his heart as he watched Winter Rain embrace her mother. He would have given up the ranch and everything else he held dear to be able to hold his own mother one more time. Grief rose up within him and with it a fresh wave of determination to avenge her death.
It took him a minute to realize Winter Rain and her parents were looking up at him expectantly.
He cleared his throat. “Did you say something, Rain?”
“I asked if you would give me a ride back to camp?”
“Sure.”
Reaching down, he took hold of her upper arm and lifted her up in front of him. He waited for Rosalia and Edward to mount their horses, then clucked to Smoke.
Winter Rain turned her head so she could see Wolf Shadow’s face. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You wouldn’t go to them,” Chance said with a negligent shrug. “What else could I do?”
“I am grateful. It was kind of you to go to so much trouble for us.”
He wondered briefly
what Winter Rain would think if she knew it hadn’t been kindness at all that prompted him to bring her parents here.
Riding down the trail toward the camp, he was all too aware of the woman sitting in front of him. Her hair brushed against his cheek. Her scent filled his nostrils, her softly rounded bottom fit snugly between his thighs. He tried not to move, hoping she wouldn’t notice the effect her nearness was having on him. When she shifted her weight in the saddle, he almost groaned out loud. Damn!
Men and women stopped what they were doing as Chance and his companions rode into view. Since white people were rarely seen among the Lakota, Ed and Rosalia naturally drew a lot of curious looks, especially from the children.
Kills-Like-a-Hawk stepped outside just as Chance drew rein in front of his lodge. He looked up, his expression impassive as Chance lowered Winter Rain to the ground. Rosalia dismounted quickly, obviously eager to be near Winter Rain, and just as obviously unable to keep from touching the daughter she hadn’t seen in ten years.
Edward Bryant dismounted with a low groan, one hand massaging his thigh.
Chance caught Winter Rain’s gaze. “Why don’t you introduce your folks to Kills-Like-a-Hawk,” he suggested. “I’ll look after the horses.”
Without giving her a chance to question him, he took up the reins of the other two horses and rode toward the herd. There was no way he could dismount now, not without everyone noticing his aroused state.
He was unsaddling Smoke when the filly trotted up him. With a soft whinny, she rubbed her nose against his stomach. He spent a few minutes stroking the filly’s neck and scratching her ears, then stripped the rigging from the Bryants’ horses and turned them loose with the rest of the herd.
Taking a deep breath, Chance picked up the Bryants’ luggage and headed back to the village. There had been some changes while he’d been gone. The men had been busy hunting, as evidenced by the number of drying racks he saw. Several of the brush huts had been replaced by hide lodges.
Rosalia turned to look at him as he approached, visibly appalled by her surroundings. Her husband looked stunned. Winter Rain’s smile looked forced as she told her parents that Kills-Like-a-Hawk had offered to let them have his lodge during their visit; he and Chance would go and stay in the lodge that had been set up for the single men.
“I…that is, I did not think we would stay here,” Rosalia replied, glancing around uneasily.
Edward nodded. “I really need to get back to my business, Tessa. I’ve been gone far too long as it is.”
Winter Rain looked at Wolf Shadow and he knew that, as happy as she was to see her parents, she wasn’t quite ready to go back to civilization.
“Mrs. Bryant, I think maybe Rain…Teressa…would like you to meet her friends and get to know a little about the people she’s been living with for so long. I think it might be a good idea. Might be good for all of you.”
Chance looked at Bryant and grinned. “And you said you wanted to go on a hunt.”
“Ah, yes,” Edward said. “I had forgotten that. Do you think I can?”
“I’ll arrange it.”
“My dear, I think Mr. McCloud might be right.” Bryant smiled at his daughter. “I don’t suppose another few days will matter one way or the other.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
“I’ll just put this stuff inside,” Chance remarked, and ducked into Kills-Like-a-Hawk’s lodge.
His cousin, who had gone inside to gather his belongings, looked up as Chance entered.
“So, tahunsa, I see you found a way.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“No. If Winter Rain wishes to go with her wasichu parents, I cannot stop her.”
“But you do not think she should go, or that I should take her from here.”
“She has been one of us for many years. She will be missed.”
“I am sorry you do not approve, tahunsa.”
Kills-Like-a-Hawk regarded him through narrowed eyes, his gaze seeming to penetrate into Chance’s very soul. “Are you happy with your life, Wolf Shadow? Has revenge brought you that which you seek?”
“Do not worry about me, I am fine.”
“Are you?”
Chance ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit, do not talk to me about revenge! Who is better at it than the Lakota?”
“Our People avenge their dead, yes, that is true. But it is more than the taking of a man’s life that drives you. When you have killed the last of the wasichu who wronged your mother, you will still be empty inside. It is not the need for vengeance that consumes you. It is your own guilt. You must learn to forgive yourself for what happened. Only then will you find the peace you seek.”
Chance stared at his cousin for stretched seconds, then, with a shake of his head, he turned and stalked out of the lodge.
Rosalia sat on a blanket inside the lodge that Teressa said was her home. It was a crude circular dwelling, completely lacking in any comforts other than a few furs and a few rustic cooking pots. There was no furniture to speak of other than two backrests fashioned from wood and covered with a hide. How had her daughter, who had spent her first formative years surrounded by the best of everything, survived ten years in this harsh environment?
Rosalia’s gaze moved over her daughter. Teressa had grown into a lovely young woman. Her hair was thick and shiny, the same color as Rosalia’s. Her skin was clear and unblemished. Her figure, though covered in a shapeless deerskin tunic, seemed slender and well-rounded.
Rosalia felt another wave of regret for the years of her daughter’s life that she had missed. She had missed the gangly years of adolescence, hadn’t been there to watch Teressa blossom into the lovely woman she had become.
And Teressa! She, too, had missed out on so much. They had much to do when they returned home, and Teressa had much to learn, years of schooling to catch up on. They would have to buy her a new wardrobe, introduce her to society. No doubt living in the city would seem strange to her at first, perhaps even a little frightening.
Rosalia forced a timid smile as the Indian woman known as Corn Woman handed her a bowl and a spoon made of some kind of animal horn. Rosalia took it hesitantly, wondering what the contents of the bowl might be.
She glanced at Edward, who was sitting beside her. One look at his face told her he felt as out of place as she did, that he couldn’t wait to take Teressa away from here.
Chance McCloud sat cross-legged on a fur on the other side of the fire pit, looking all too at home as he accepted a bowl and spoon from Teressa. Rosalia had not missed the way her daughter looked at Mr. McCloud, or the way Mr. McCloud looked at her daughter. She did not want to dwell on what might have happened between Teressa and McCloud. At any rate, whatever there was between the two of them would end as soon as Teressa was safely home again.
Teressa sat down beside McCloud and began to eat. Rosalia dipped her spoon into the bowl, took a deep breath, and swallowed a spoonful of what she thought was beef stew. It definitely wasn’t beef, she concluded. The meat had a strong gamy taste, the broth was thin. She thought it was flavored with sage and onion. She ate it all because to put it aside would have been impolite, and because she had no wish to hurt Teressa’s feelings.
Beside her, Edward murmured, “Good Lord, what is this?”
“It’s venison stew.”
Edward looked up, a flush spreading over his cheeks as he met McCloud’s gaze. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “It is quite…ah…filling.”
“I am sorry you do not like it,” Teressa said.
“Did I say that, Tessa?” Edward asked quickly. “It is just…” He cleared his throat again. “Just different from anything I have ever tasted.”
Chance grunted softly. That had to be the understatement of the century. Emptying his bowl, he put it aside. “Pilamaya, Rain,” he said, rising.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Nowhere, just outside.”
She watched him duck out of the lodge, wishi
ng she dared go with him.
“Teressa, dear?”
With a sigh, she turned back to her parents, but her heart went outside with Wolf Shadow.
“Tessa?”
Winter Rain met her mother’s gaze, wondering what to call her. For the last ten years, she had thought of Mountain Sage as her mother. It seemed disloyal, somehow, to acknowledge another woman as her mother.
“Have you been happy here, with these people?” Rosalia asked.
“Yes, very happy.”
“They were good to you, then?”
Winter Rain nodded. “Yes, always.”
“I am glad. At home, we read of terrible things in the newspapers.”
“What kinds of terrible things?” Winter Rain asked curiously.
“Atrocities,” her father said. “Indian attacks on settlers and farmer. Men tortured and killed. Women and children taken captive and ra…”
“Eduardo!”
“What?” He glanced at Rosalia, and then noticed the shocked expression on Teressa’s face. “Oh. Of course. Sorry.”
“The people who raised me were very kind,” Winter Rain said defensively. “I always had food, even when it was scarce. I always had the warmest blanket in winter.”
Her parents exchanged a look she could not fathom, and then, apropos of nothing, her father asked, “And what of Mr. McCloud?”
* * * * *
Feeling the need for solitude, Chance walked away from the village. Having spent considerable time with Winter Rain’s parents, he was more aware than ever of the vast gulf between himself and the Bryant family. Edward and Rosalia were cultured, wealthy people, accustomed to the best that money could buy. They would want the same for Winter Rain. For Teressa, he amended. And who could blame them? She was a sweet-natured, beautiful young woman, one who deserved the best of everything. And the best thing he could do for her was to get out of her life just as soon as possible. He would guide the Bryant family back to Buffalo Springs and then stop off at the ranch for a week or so. He’d check on the herd, see if the new bull had arrived, maybe look into buying that land adjacent to the east pasture. Once he had made sure everything at the ranch was running smoothly, he would sniff around and see what he could find out about Jack Finch’s whereabouts.
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