by Vella Munn
Too physically and emotionally weary for anything except the truth, Calida told Winter Rain she had no idea what Panther was thinking. "He fears for Gaitor. There's no one who can go after him?"
"I wish. Oh, how I wish. If I could have gotten someone to go with me, I would not be here now." Winter Rain swallowed and her hand went to her throat. "But we are women and children and old people. There are no warriors with us, none except for Panther. You love him, do you not?"
Love. "I—I don't know."
"You do not know your heart?"
"I'm tired, Winter Rain. Too tired to think."
"I think not." After a glance in Panther's direction, Winter Rain spent the better part of a minute studying the wilderness while Calida waited and hurt. "If he is dead—" Winter Rain began. "I have never seen Gaitor like that. He was a wild animal, he wanted to go back for Panther that much. But he could not until he had provided for us. He said—he told me he hated being torn apart like that. When you left, it took all my strength to stop him from following you."
"Why did you?"
Calida felt Winter Rain sink into herself. "I—we had no meat. The braves had gone on ahead to see if the journey was safe."
"Was that the only reason? Because you wanted him to bring down some game?"
"No." Winter Rain stared at her without blinking. "No," she repeated.
"Maybe it was because you were afraid of what might happen if the army overtook you and neither Gaitor nor Panther was here."
"Yes." Winter Rain didn't sound convinced. "We would be helpless. When he had calmed down, that is what Gaitor said. That he could never again face himself if something happened to us. But he was even more afraid that his friend was dying. He—" She pressed her hand against her cheek. "He promised me that he would return."
Wondering if Gaitor's hardest decision had been to leave Winter Rain, Calida tried to remember whether she'd seen the two of them together more than usual. When she first came to the Egret clan, they had numbered over a hundred. Now there were less than twenty. True, many were finding their own way to the sea as Panther had ordered, but there was something fragile and vulnerable looking about those clustered around Panther.
They were her life. He was her life.
Only, she wasn't worthy.
Beyond words, she gripped Winter Rain's hand and hung on. She sensed the other woman's fear, but it was all so mixed in with what she was feeling that she couldn't sort any of it out. She'd helped Panther return to his people. He now belonged to them. And she?
* * *
Calida's heart belonged to Panther. Winter Rain had only to look at the former slave to know that beyond any doubt. It might have happened while the two of them were alone together, but maybe Calida had fallen in love long before and that was why she'd gone off alone in search of him.
Alone.
Despite her resolve not to, Winter Rain studied her surroundings time and time again until it was too dark to see. She'd been terrified at the thought of Panther alone and wounded out there; her fear should have eased now that the tastanagee was back.
But it hadn't. Night had swallowed Gaitor.
Too restless to join the others, Winter Rain paced from one end of the opening to another. She'd lived here briefly as a child and remembered following behind her mother as she harvested corn. If her mother was still alive, she could ask her how she'd felt when they left. If her father was nearby, she could ask him the same thing. Only, her mother was dead and her father was with Osceola. She'd stayed with the Egret clan because...
It didn't matter. Nothing did except reaching the sea so they could join up with the rest of the Seminoles.
No. That didn't matter either.
Nothing did except that she should have gone with Gaitor. She was young and strong. No one needed her here. Calida had had the courage to strike out on her own, or maybe the truth was, Calida had been so consumed by fear for Panther that nothing else had mattered.
Tonight, watching the stars flicker to life one after the other, Winter Rain prayed not for Panther's health, but for Gaitor's life. She couldn't think of anything except him, knew she couldn't sleep until he returned.
Why?
All he'd done was touch her cheek with a rough but gentle hand. And he'd smiled down at her, a smile he'd shared with no one else. "I will be back," he had said. "I will not let anything happen to you." To her. Not to the others. To her.
Her neck began to cramp, and she was forced to stop her study of the sky. As her gaze fell on the knot of people around what remained of the small deer Gaitor had killed, she realized that all of them were turning in the same direction. A moment later, a tall, dark figure emerged from the night.
Shaking so much that she could barely keep her feet under her, she managed to half stagger and half run toward Gaitor. She reached him a heartbeat after he placed himself in front of Panther, who was lying on a grass mat.
"You return, my friend," Panther said simply.
"You are alive, my friend," Gaitor said just as simply. He dropped to his knees and held out his hand. Panther returned his grasp while tears flowed over Winter Rain's cheeks.
She didn't remember pushing past the others, but she must have because she was now only a few inches from Gaitor's massive shoulder. Not trusting herself to speak and afraid to let anyone see how grateful she was, she stood, wrapped deep in her thoughts, as Gaitor explained what he'd been doing since he left the others. The route he'd taken had brought him near Reddin Croon's troop. Although he'd been wild to reach Panther as quickly as possible, he also knew it was necessary to learn what the enemy was up to. Slipping as close as he dared, he'd overheard an argument between Croon and his men.
"He was fussin' 'en fussin' at them 'bout how they let Sara get away and didn' go after either you or me. Kept at it sumthin' fierce 'til one of 'em tole him he didn' have to take it no more. Next I knew, they was all leavin'."
"His men deserted?" Panther asked.
"Right 'fore my eyes. Croon, he been drinkin'. Kept on drinkin' long after they was gone. He said he was gonna kill anyone who walked out on him, but they grabbed his musket 'fore he could git his hands on it. They laughed at him there at the end. I thought—"
"He's alone?" Calida interrupted. "Alone and unarmed?"
"Not unarmed, gal. It took him awhile, but he finally hauled his weapon out o' the bushes where they throwed it. But he ain't gonna do much damage with it like he is."
Calida clenched her fists and looked out at the night. "Where is he?"
"I don' know, gal. Last I saw him, he was passed out, but that was a while ago."
Gaitor went on to explain that when he reached where he'd last seen Panther, he spotted signs telling him that two people had left together. Guessing that Calida had been the one to find his friend, he'd hurried after them, but he'd spent so much time watching Croon and the others that he'd never caught up to his chief. "You moved some there, Panther," he finished. "Made me think maybe you wasn' hurt near as bad as I thought."
Although the conversation now centered on whether the group should leave at first light or take a chance on waiting through the day so everyone could rest, Winter Rain heard little of that. She was aware of Calida's continued nervousness. Despite what both Gaitor and Panther had said about Reddin Croon having lost his teeth, Calida still feared the man.
Threat. Danger.
No matter how many times she tried to reassure herself that Gaitor had snuck away from the army men without their being aware of his presence, Winter Rain continued to feel sick at the thought of what he'd risked. Gaitor was everything she wasn't, so strong that he feared nothing, wise and courageous. He'd always been gentle around her. At first she'd been afraid of him because he was so big, because she sensed his deep and all but consuming anger at having been treated as less than human. But over the months, he'd become a Seminole warrior, a man proud of who he was. A man capable of leadership.
Remembering he'd had nothing to eat, Winter Rain shyly hand
ed him some of the roots she'd dug earlier that day. He barely glanced at her at first but then fixed his attention on her. "Thank you," he said simply. It seemed that he was reluctant to turn from her. Finally someone asked him a question and he did. Remaining where she was, she studied the way Panther and Gaitor acted around each other. Despite his weakness, Panther obviously still saw himself as the clans leader. Just the same, he and Gaitor discussed everything as equals. She'd always been aware of the bond between them, but it seemed even stronger than before. She wondered if it had been strengthened at the moment a bullet tore into Panther. His life had been at stake. Nothing else should have mattered. Still, Gaitor had put Sara's safety before Panther's, not because he didn't care what happened to his chief, but because the clan's survival had come first.
The toll on Gaitor had been incredible. It must have been just as hard for Panther, but Panther had had Calida—
Calida, who hadn't once taken her eyes off the tastanagee and had risked her own life by going into Piahokee after him.
Weary from the long day of walking and worrying, Winter Rain suddenly wanted nothing more than to stretch out and sleep. She wouldn't think, wouldn't remember the way Calida gazed up at Panther. Or that Panther had eyes only for Gaitor and Calida and none for her.
Her tears had dried. Admitting how little she mattered to Panther tonight, she waited for them to return. Despite a small ache deep inside her, she felt no need to cry. Numb, Winter Rain slipped away from the group, but instead of heading toward the pile of leaves she'd collected for her bed, she wandered toward a massive cypress. Staring up at it, she thought about the first time she'd climbed a tree. Her father had helped her reach the lowest branches and then encouraged her as she slowly made her way higher. She'd been so brave then. Maybe not brave so much as determined to prove to her father that she was worthy of his praise. Her mother had come upon them, and although she'd scolded her husband for risking their daughter's neck, her voice had held laughter and love.
"Winter Rain?"
Another voice. From the present. Male. "Gaitor? What—"
"I saw you leave. You's all right?"
"I—I'm fine. I was just thinking—" Gathering her courage, Winter Rain faced him and wasn't surprised to see that he'd blocked out the night sky. "Thinking about something that happened a long time ago."
"I don' think 'bout the past. Tries not to anyhow."
He'd never told her that. The truth was they'd seldom said anything to each other. "You must be exhausted. And hungry. I can get you—"
"Later. You's really all right? I saw you was cryin'."
"It does not matter," she said with conviction. "Gaitor? I am glad you are back. So glad."
He brushed his fingers lightly over her lower arm. A shiver raced up her spine and stopped her breath. It was too dark to see into his eyes, for him to look into hers and maybe guess how off balance she felt. "We cain't stay here," he said. "Just 'cause Croon's men left him don't mean there ain't more whites 'round."
"I know."
"I don' like it bein' like this fur you. Not havin' no folks 'en all, you should at least know where you's gonna sleep."
"It's all right, Gaitor. It's all right. At least I am free."
"We's all free. Tonight."
He said it so simply when it wasn't simple at all. Overcome by the need to give him something, she gripped his hand. Her fingers barely surrounded his, but she held on anyway. "When we reach the sea, the Seminoles will be strong again," she promised him. "Don't think about anything else."
"You believes that?"
"I cannot not believe," she told him honestly.
"Neither can I, 'cause that's all there is."
Was it? Something soft and alive had begun to grow inside her. She wasn't yet ready to examine it, but the time would come. In the meantime, she'd stand here in the dark beside Gaitor while his chest expanded and contracted and his hand continued to hold hers.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the clan members were scattering, leaving Panther to rest. Only Calida remained within the light of the dying cooking fire. Calida's hands were tight by her side, her fists clenched. The woman held herself hard and still as if she was battling something strong and wild inside her.
Then Gaitor thanked Winter Rain for giving him something to eat and she forgot about Calida.
* * *
Reddin's throat tasted of vomit. He gagged but didn't throw up because his stomach had already emptied itself. Cursing, he dragged himself off the spongy, stinking ground and managed to haul himself into a sitting position.
He was alone.
The bastards he'd paid good money to were gone. They'd deserted him.
It was Calida's fault. Hers and that ignorant, dangerous savage, the one he should have killed the other day.
Calida, damn her Damn her!
When his head pounded, he forced himself to calm down, but that didn't kill the stench of hatred that now filled him. The bastards who'd left him to die had made a crucial mistake. They'd left his horse behind.
Looking around, he was forced to admit he didn't have an idea in hell where he was. In the morning, he'd be able to get his bearings from studying the rising sun, but right now, swallowed by the god-awful Everglades, he felt more alone than he had in his entire life. Fear nibbled at his nerve endings and would have consumed him if he hadn't still been half drunk. As it was, fear was like a toothache that pulsed and receded but never left.
His plantation. Where the hell was it? North, but where the hell was north? It didn't matter; he'd get that figured out with first light. He'd go home, not because he'd given up, by god. Not that by a long shot. But those bastards who'd deserted him had bled him dry of money, and he couldn't go after Calida again until he had some coins to dangle in front of the new troops he intended to recruit. It didn't matter what Isiah Yongue said. That old hunk of alligator bait was going to let go of more money. If he didn't—
Not soldiers. Slave-catchers.
Feeling suddenly sober, Reddin allowed a broad smile to split his face. Why the hell hadn't he thought about that before? Slave-catchers were perfect. They knew how niggers thought and were half bloodhound anyway. Hell, for a few more coins, he could get his hands on a real dog this time.
The dog would tear Panther apart. And then Calida...
"Don't you be sleeping too well tonight, girlie," he hissed. "I'm comin' for you. And this time it's going to turn out different."
Chapter 22
When he tried to move, Panther's muscles screamed in complaint. Relaxing, he eased back on the ground, but even though the pain in his side subsided, he knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.
It was the middle of the night. The moon, nearly full, spread a cool white light over the ground but left the nearby trees sheltered in darkness. By turning his head, he made out most of the others stretched out on their makeshift beds. Not recognizing Gaitor's form, he remembered that his friend had left his side earlier to talk to Winter Rain and wondered if the two were still together.
Calida too had watched Gaitor and Winter Rain. He'd sensed her reaction in the tight and unnatural way she held her body. Alone. She'd looked so alone.
He'd wanted to end that for her, but he hadn't known what to say or do, and then it had gotten dark, and he'd been too tired to think.
Now it was the middle of the night and something had wakened him. Eyes shut so he could listen, he concentrated, but whatever that something had been now eluded him. He felt uneasy, but he'd been that way for so long now that the emotion seemed normal.
Nothing had changed by the time he opened his eyes again. The moon still called to him. Piahokee continued to keep its ageless secrets. His ancestors' spirits whispered and murmured and gave him a small measure of peace. The wilderness had always sheltered and sustained the Seminoles; he would be wise never to forget that. But in the past, there'd been no white men hungry for land, no soldiers.
So much had changed.
Not
all of those changes involved the world around him. Some stemmed from inside.
By concentrating on every movement, he managed to first sit and then stand. His legs trembled, and his heart beat out of rhythm, but he would feel stronger in a few minutes. He had to because tomorrow he would lead his people east.
It was impossible to determine which sleeping outline belonged to Calida. She wouldn't be nearby; hadn't she made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him? She'd sought him out, saved his life, helped him return to the Egret clan. She'd stood near him earlier tonight, but she hadn't spoken to him. For most of the time they'd been together, she hadn't said a word or touched him.
He wanted to shake his head to see if that would clear it but wasn't sure he could continue to stand if he did. The sea seemed so far away. Just thinking about the journey ahead of them made him wish he was a child again. He would never tell anyone how he felt tonight, barely acknowledged the emotion to himself. But being shot had wounded him in ways he was still learning about. It was so hard to always be brave. To be chief. A woman—
No. That wasn't right. He'd been about to tell himself that it was a woman's nature to let a man go to war, but Seminole women were strong. They remained in the village because the children needed them, and without children the Seminoles would be no more.
Calida was Seminole, in her heart, where it mattered most.
Not sure what he had in mind, he took a few uneasy steps. His legs felt strong enough to hold him, and he walked even farther. A child whimpered once. An old man snorted, stopped, began snoring steadily. Beyond the grassy area, Piahokee made its own sounds. Thinking of little except wanting to hear more of the night, he left the sleepers. He might not be able to return to bed before what strength he had seeped out of him, but the laborious task of walking gave him scant energy to think about anything else.
He wasn't the only one awake after all. The moment he spotted the shadow, he reached automatically for the knife he always carried, but although he now held it in his hand, he felt no sense of alarm. There were no soldiers nearby. Gaitor had told him that and he believed him. That left only members of the Egret clan, or his ancestors' ghosts. Instead of calling out, Panther waited on legs that were too rapidly losing all feeling.
