McKade, Maureen

by To Find You Again

  "Come with me, Chayton," Hotah ordered.

  The boy pressed more firmly against Ridge and shook his head.

  "He doesn't want to, Hotah. We will return before the sun sets," Ridge said.

  Hotah glared at him over his haughty nose. "One day you and I will fight, wasicu, and then we shall learn who has more power."

  "Name the time and place and I'll be there."

  "It will come," Hotah said, then reined his horse around and galloped away.

  Ridge stared at his receding back, knowing he'd made an enemy. But Hotah wasn't the first, and Ridge was still breathing.

  Chapter 14

  Emma paced the tipi, ignoring the glares from the other two women also temporarily residing in it. They hadn't known Emma before, and she explained how she'd been adopted by the Elk Band, but it did little good. Because of her skin color, she was treated with suspicion and resentment, just as she'd been treated in Sunset after her return. It appeared bigotry itself was color-blind.

  Unable to endure their cold looks any longer, Emma slipped out into the evening's dusk. The lodge was far enough away from the main village that she couldn't make out individuals, but she could hear the sounds of singing and laughter. Men would be playing the hand game, while women huddled together tossing dice in the air. Songs often accompanied the contests, and Emma could tell the pace of the game simply by the excitement in the singing voices.

  She had seen neither Chayton nor Ridge all day, and her frightening dream visions were never far from her thoughts. However, she reassured herself, if something had happened to her son or Ridge, Talutah would've told her.

  Emma spotted a shadowy figure walking toward her and tensed even as she unobtrusively laid a hand on her thigh, beside the hidden knife.

  "It's me, Emma," Ridge called out softly in English.

  Emma's hand fell away from her weapon as her heart tripped in its chest. She wanted to run to him and throw herself in his arms. Instead, she strolled over to stand in front of him and allowed her gaze to caress him instead of her hands. They'd been apart only twelve hours, yet to Emma it felt like twelve days.

  "I'm glad to see you, Ridge." She couldn't keep the pleasure from her voice. "How's Chayton?"

  "He's eating with his grandfather and grandmother." His gaze swept over her. "How're you doing?"

  Emma crossed her arms beneath her breasts, oddly comforted by speaking English again. "I'm bored and I miss Chayton." She paused, then added softly, "And I miss you."

  Ridge looked down and his hair obscured his expression. "We miss you, too."

  Emma hugged her sides and wished it was Ridge's arms around her and not her own. "How's Chayton feeling? Is he in any pain?"

  Ridge chuckled. "He's so busy, he hardly notices."

  "He'll probably be fretting and overtired tonight. If his head hurts, mix some of the herbs I left out with warm water. It'll help him sleep."

  "I'll do that."

  They stood in awkward silence.

  "What did you and Chayton do all day?" Emma asked, wanting to prolong his visit.

  "Chayton played in the morning, and after he slept some this afternoon, him and me went looking for wolf tracks." He smiled boyishly, and Emma fought her body's insistence to move closer. "We didn't find any."

  "And what would you have done if you had found a wolf?" Emma asked in amusement.

  "I suppose we would've brought it back to the village as Chayton's pet."

  Emma's mouth dropped open, but Ridge's soft huff of laughter revealed his teasing. She chuckled. "Heaven help us if he ever finds one." Sobering, she asked, "Did you see Hotah?"

  "I saw him."

  His short reply told Emma there was more to it than a simple exchange. "What happened?"

  He shrugged. "He wanted to begin Chayton's training. I wouldn't let him."

  Emma gripped his arm as fear spilled through her veins. "What did he do?"

  "Nothing."

  Ridge was hiding something from her and she considered his choice of words. "What did he say?"

  He glanced away and rubbed his clean-cut jaw. "He's got a grudge against me. I figure it'll come down to a fight one of these days."

  Emma gasped. "You can't!"

  "Fast Elk and some of the others'll make sure it's a fair fight."

  "Hotah's bigger than you."

  Ridge stiffened. "I can handle him."

  She'd insulted his masculinity when all she'd done was express her concern. She forced her muscles to untense and kept her voice calm. "Please, stay away from Hotah. If you don't cross paths, he won't have reason to challenge you."

  "I'm not afraid of him."

  Emma rolled her eyes at his stubborn male pride. "That's not the issue. This is Hotah's home. If you beat him here, he'll be forced to leave."

  "So now you're worried about him?" Ridge shook his head, exasperation in his shadowed features. "Make up your mind, Emma. You can't have it both ways."

  "You don't understand."

  "Damned right I don't." He settled his hat more firmly on his head. "Goodnight." Ridge spun on his heel and strode away.

  Emma took a step to follow him, but halted. Ridge was too angry to listen. And what would she say? It was his safety she was concerned about. If he and Hotah fought and Ridge won, Hotah would seek revenge against the white man. Hotah wouldn't care anymore about honor, because if he lost to Ridge, he'd lose whatever honor he possessed.

  Then there was the possibility Hotah would defeat Ridge, which would be just as disastrous, because Hotah wouldn't stop at beating him. The cruel warrior would deliver a killing blow.

  Upset and anxious, Emma was angry with herself for involving Ridge in her personal quest. If only he hadn't found her, or had let her go on by herself to find Chayton. Now, if something happened to Ridge, the fault would be hers. And Emma wasn't certain she could live with the guilt.

  The black velvety darkness surrounded her, cocooned her, and she was tempted to sink into it and never emerge. It would be so easy; she'd been tired for so long now.

  An owl's hoot startled her and she raised her head. Two yellow eyes peered down at her, but she could make out nothing else in the pitch blackness. Dread riffled through her, but the owl's steady gaze held no danger. At least not to her.

  The sensation of movement made her rise up on four legs and feral cat scent stung her nose. Moments later, low growls and higher-pitched mewling sounds filled the air. Using her nose and ears, the female wolf tried to determine from where they came.

  "Lisssten well for the angry one issss near," the owl spoke in a sibilant whisper from its high perch,

  "Tell me where!"

  "Closssse."

  A cloud slid away, revealing a full moon and illuminating sharp brambles surrounding the female wolf. Blinking, she focused on movement beyond the thorny bushes and spotted a mountain lion sitting in regal comfort, a weakly struggling wolf cub in its mouth.

  White-hot pain ripped through the female wolf and she charged through the brambles, but the thorns tangled inher coat. She fought to escape, but the needles dug deeper, into her skin, and blood flowed from numerous gashes.

  Still, she surged forward, unmindful of the profusely bleeding wounds and the accompanying torment. She had to rescue the cub, her child, her...

  Emma's eyes flashed open and she lay motionless, her heart pounding and sweat coating her skin.

  Where am I?

  A long minute later, the answer tumbled back and Emma sat up, throwing off her cover. The other two women were asleep, and Emma tiptoed out of the lodge into the moonlit night.

  Raw urgency impelled her to see Chayton, to reassure her he was safe and unharmed, unlike the wolf cub in her dream. Keeping to the shadows, Emma ran in a half-crouch to the lodge she shared with Ridge and her son. She hesitated only a moment, then slipped inside and remained by the opening, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimness.

  Chayton was a lump beneath the buffalo hides and Emma silently passed Ridge's sleeping form. Sh
e knelt beside her son and eased the blanket down so she could see his face, which was smooth and peaceful as he slept soundly. Biting back a sob of relief, she stretched out beside him on top of the skins.

  "Another dream?"

  The low voice startled her and she raised her head to see Ridge sitting with his arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees.

  "I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered.

  "I wasn't sleeping much anyhow," Ridge admitted. He kept his eyes on the low fire as he stirred it with a twig. "Wanna talk about it?"

  She settled back down on the soft buffalo skin and wrapped an arm around her son. "Same dream, but different." She sensed Ridge's confusion. "This time I was the female wolf. I couldn't see anything but I could hear the lion and the wolf cub. Then the full moon came out and I was trapped in sharp thorns." Emma paused, then whispered hoarsely, "I couldn't save him."

  Ridge didn't speak and Emma closed her eyes. She inhaled the pleasant scent of soapweed on Chayton's skin, and she was soothed by his sleep snuffles.

  "If you want to stay here the rest of the night, I'll wake you early enough to get back to the lodge before anyone catches you," Ridge offered.

  His understanding filled her eyes with moisture. "Thank you," she said huskily.

  She listened to him lie back down and remembered how she'd slept spooned against him with his arms holding her close.

  Would she ever feel that safe again?

  Ridge was as good as his word, and Emma was back in the women's lodge before the sun rose the next morning, as well as the following two mornings. The night of the full moon came and went, and the dire dreams didn't return. Immensely relieved, Emma prayed it was because the vision had been averted.

  By the afternoon of her fourth day of seclusion, she returned to the lodge she shared with Ridge and Chayton. After seeing her son was safe with the other children, Emma made a pot of stew to hang over the cookfire.

  Light footfalls alerted Emma and she turned to see Ridge joining her. Pleasure coursed through her and she smiled warmly.

  "Smells good," he said with a boyish grin.

  "Are you hungry from playing all day?" she teased.

  "I'm always hungry." Ridge winked.

  He suddenly tensed and Emma followed his line of sight. Hotah prowled toward them, his lips curled in a sneer.

  Uneasiness settled in Emma's belly.

  "You will leave now," Hotah announced.

  "Akecheta will tell us when it is time to leave," Ridge said coolly.

  "He thinks like an old woman."

  Emma gasped. To insult a chief was tantamount to treason. She glanced around but found no one near enough to overhear the warrior.

  "Does Akecheta know you speak of him that way?" Ridge asked calmly, although Emma could see his lips tighten in anger.

  "He knows I do not agree with running like rabbits."

  "We do not run!" Akecheta and Fast Elk came out of Fast Elk's tipi, which was close enough for them to overhear Hotah's words.

  The chief's words were loud enough to draw the attention of many of the villagers. Hotah flushed, but didn't retreat from Akecheta's glare.

  "We do not fight," Hotah shot back. "We run like children if there is word of whites drawing nearer."

  "We live! If we die there will be no one to carry our past and our people will disappear," Akecheta argued, his voice strong despite his frail appearance.

  "We live like animals, hunting for a burrow when we should fight for what is ours."

  Emma sidled closer to Ridge as she listened to the two men. It was obvious this wasn't the first time Hotah and the chief had argued, but it did appear this disagreement was more intense. And this time they had an audience.

  "I speak for our people," Akecheta stated, his nostrils flaring.

  "What of these two?" He pointed to Ridge and Emma. "They are not of the People." Hotah's hand fell to his knife handle. "They are wasicu, the enemy."

  Emma stiffened with indignation, but Ridge squeezed her arm and she snapped her mouth shut. The People surrounding them shuffled and murmured, but no one interrupted.

  "They are guests. You will not harm them." Akecheta lifted his chin. "Perhaps you have become the enemy."

  Hotah jerked as if slapped. He narrowed his eyes and rage rolled off him in waves. "I will not hide like a coward."

  The insult was clear to Akecheta, who stared at Hotah, his black eyes giving away nothing. "Leave this village. You no longer belong."

  Gasps and mutterings broke out among the Indians, but Emma could tell it wasn't in protest of the chief's decree. Most of them also wanted to remain at peace.

  Hotah straightened his spine and pulled his shoulders back. He glared at the chief, then shifted his fierce look to Ridge and Emma. "I will not forget," he vowed in a tone that sent dread through Emma's veins.

  He pivoted and a line opened between the People to allow him through. He swaggered away, leaving shocked silence in his wake.

  Akecheta gazed at Ridge and Emma, his lined face impassive. "One more day."

  The chief retreated to his lodge, and after a few moments, the crowd dissipated quietly. Fast Elk and Talutah were the last to return to their tipi after a long, lingering look filled with sadness and resignation.

  For the first time since she'd been accepted by the tribe years earlier, Emma felt the sting of being an outsider.

  She remained standing beside Ridge, fighting tears. "At one time, these were my people, my family." Her voice broke. "Now, it's as if they're strangers."

  Ridge cupped her face in his palms. "You can't change your skin color, or the way you were raised. And with the whites pushing the Indians again, lines will be drawn according to those differences."

  She knew he spoke the truth, but the realization didn't lessen the pain.

  "It's been nearly a week anyhow, Emma. We need to be getting back," Ridge said. "Day after tomorrow, we'll leave early in the morning and get a good start."

  Emma nodded. She had one day to prepare her son to leave the only family he'd ever known.

  Ridge lay awake, his crossed arms pillowing his head as he stared up at the black sky through the smoke hole in the center of the lodge. Restlessness vibrated in his bones. After the confrontation with Hotah, Ridge had wanted to gather Emma and leave immediately. At least Hotah would no longer be a threat to Chayton—some other brave in the village would train the boy.

  Chayton snuffled and shifted in his sleep, causing Emma to move also. Ridge closed his eyes against the memories her presence made impossible to forget—the feathery light caress of her hands; her warm, firm lips upon his; and her needy whispers begging him to touch her and fill her.

  He shoved the randy thoughts away, but a soft, passionate cry sifted through the stillness from another tipi, bringing unwelcome images. Ridge smothered a groan, not wanting to listen to the amorous coupling, but he couldn't shut the sounds out. Heated blood shot to his groin and it took everything he had to ignore the temptation to bring relief to himself.

  "Ridge."

  Emma's quiet whisper startled him and he was glad for the darkness that covered his flushed face. "Yeah?"

  She remained silent for so long, Ridge thought maybe he'd imagined her voice, confusing it with the breathy murmurs coming from the nearby lodge.

  "When we get back home, we can't see each other again or folks will talk even more," she said softly.

  Ridge stiffened, angry that she'd think he would further sully her reputation. "I'm not going to give them any more call to gossip, Emma."

  He heard her roll over and turned his head to find her peering at him. "That wasn't what I meant."

  Even in the dimness, Ridge could see frustration in her pale features.

  Across the night air, a loud moan spilled from a man's lips, echoed by a woman's cry. Emma's head turned in the direction from which the loving sounds had come. When she gave her attention to him once more, tension radiated from her body.

  "I won't ever marry again."<
br />
  Confused, Ridge offered, "You don't know that."

  "Yes, I do," she stated firmly. "No man will want me."

  "If you move away from Sunset, no one will know. You can say you're a widow."

  "With Chayton, everyone will know." Ridge opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. "I don't want to argue with you tonight." She paused and he had the impression something else was on her mind. Something that both frightened and excited him. "I'm a widow, Ridge. I know what I'm giving up when I say I'll never be a wife again, and I most certainly won't be anyone's whore either."

  Her use of the vulgar word and the vehemence in her quiet voice surprised him, but before he could speak, she continued.

  "Despite what many folks in Sunset believe, I've lain with only two men—my husband and you. Enapay is dead, and you have your own life to return to when we get back to town. But now—" She stuttered to a halt, as if her courage deserted her.

  Ridge took a deep breath and hoped he was reading her intentions correctly. His conscience nudged him, but his need for Emma was far too powerful to ignore. He raised one side of the buffalo hide blanket in mute invitation.

  After ensuring Chayton was sound asleep, Emma crawled over to join him. She knelt in front of him and lifted the doeskin dress over her head, then tossed it aside. She wore nothing beneath it and her pale skin reflected the orange glow of the embers. Her nipples, surrounded by dusky circles, hardened as he watched. Unable to resist, he reached forward to roll the hard flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

  Emma's head fell back, baring her throat and thrusting her breasts toward him. Ridge rose up to embrace her. He nipped and kissed the slender column of her neck as his hands roamed up and down her silky back and sides. Her tiny moans were accompanied by puffs of warm, moist air across his cheek.

  How had he thought he could get enough of Emma in just one day? Her rising musky scent teased him and his body responded instinctively to the invitation to mate. But he recognized it as more than mere animalistic urges. He cared for Emma and admired her more than any woman he'd known.