Promise Trail

by Shirleen Davies

  The silence grew as the men stared back at her, their faces a collective mask. Lydia dropped her gaze to the ground, feeling the growing dampness on her forehead. She refused to show any weakness by wiping it away. Instead, she closed her eyes, focusing on what needed to be said—the request for a trade, and her promise not to run again.

  Red Tail lit a pipe, passing it to the other two elders. Each took it and inhaled, then passed it back, never uttering a sound. Minutes ticked by before Red Tail set the pipe aside.

  “You will speak, Golden Bird.”

  Licking parched lips, Lydia cleared her throat, forcing an unwavering gaze at Red Tail as she tried to ignore her fear. Opening her mouth, she clamped it shut as an unbidden image of Bull flashed through her mind. Lingering on it for a brief instant, she shoved the pain aside, clearing her throat a second time.

  “Running from the people was a mistake. I have returned freely and will accept whatever punishment you feel is just.” Her gaze sharpened as she continued. “However, I ask a trade. I will stay, promise not to leave, but I ask that you release my brother and his friend. They have not harmed the people. They are innocent.” She felt her body shudder as Red Tail and the other two elders continued to watch her, saying nothing. “I—”

  She stopped when Red Tail held up his hand. The three men spoke in whispers, nodding, shaking their heads, then appearing to agree. Red Tail shot a look at White Buffalo before speaking.

  “It will be as you ask.”

  She let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing before jerking to attention when Red Tail continued.

  “You will be bound to White Buffalo. That is our decision.” Reaching for his pipe, Red Tail began the process of cleaning it, a sure signal the meeting was over.

  She nodded, knowing he’d say nothing more. A brief moment of elation washed over her, knowing Sam and Mal would soon be free. The joy disappeared when a strong hand gripped her arm, forcing her to her feet and out of the tipi.

  “Wait.” She tried to wrench free. “I want to see Sam and Mal. You have to let me see them.”

  Ignoring her, White Buffalo roughly pulled Lydia next to him, then opened the flaps to another tipi, tossing her inside as if she weighed no more than a feather.

  “You will not leave.” His menacing glare told her what would happen if she tried.

  Lydia paced in a circle in the small space, her heart pounding. She needed to see Sam and Mal, explain to them what happened, ask them to give Bull a message. Knowing she had little time, Lydia started for the entry flaps, stopping when an older woman appeared, a buckskin dress draped over her arm. Lydia recognized her as White Buffalo’s mother. Without a word, the woman set the dress aside, stepped in front of her, and delivered a painful slap to Lydia’s cheek.

  Her face stinging, eyes watering, Lydia stumbled away from the woman. As her mind cleared, she straightened, planning to shove past the older woman to find Sam and Mal before it was too late. Taking a tentative step toward the opening, she froze when two more women she recognized entered the tipi. Neither moved from the entry, blocking her path—and her last chance to see Sam one more time.

  Chapter Six

  Time passed in a blur as the three women worked to prepare Lydia for the ceremony binding her to White Buffalo. Washing her body, cutting her hair short in the Crow tradition, then dressing her in the elk tooth buckskin dress seemed to take hours. When a respectful voice preceded a young woman stepping inside the tipi, Lydia realized the sun still shown outside.

  “White Buffalo says it is time.” She spoke to the older women, then glanced at Lydia. The unmistakable look of disdain clear in her features, her eyes sparking with hatred. It was at that moment Lydia recognized the woman. She’d grown up with White Buffalo, been promised to him as a girl, only to be pushed aside by the warrior when Lydia had been taken captive.

  “Tell my son this woman is ready.” White Buffalo’s mother stepped next to the younger woman, whispered in her ear, then nodded at the flap. She sent Lydia one more hateful look before disappearing outside, leaving the flap open.

  Lydia heard singing, drums beating, and children’s laughter, feeling the breeze begin to cool the heated air. It all seemed so normal, when everything about her life was about to change. Her mind wrapped around one thought—never seeing those she loved again. Sam would be fine. He’d grow into a strong man who’d take care of Selina. He’d work the ranch, fall in love, marry, and raise a family. Selina, already a proficient rider and budding cook, would also fall in love and marry. And Bull…her heart twisted painfully at what she knew would be his future.

  The man she loved would recover from her betrayal, meet another woman, and transfer the love they shared to someone else. She sucked in an unsteady breath, gripping her chest. Even as she told herself the sacrifice was worth it, Lydia knew she would never recover from losing Bull.

  “Down there.” Luke handed Bull the field glasses, pointing to the Crow camp nestled among the trees in the valley below. Billy and Travis lay on their stomachs next to them, while Johnny and Tat watched the horses.

  Bull trained the glasses on the village, scanning each tipi and all movement, looking for any sign of Lydia, Sam, or Mal. Movement out of the corner of his eye had him swinging the glasses in that direction. Two riders on a single horse raced from the camp. Sharpening his gaze, he sucked in a breath and looked at Luke.

  “It’s Sam and Mal. They’re riding right toward us.”

  “Are they being followed?”

  Bull raised the glasses, focusing on the Crow camp. “No.” The air left his lungs.

  No explanation was needed. They all knew what it meant for Sam and Mal to be riding away. Lydia’s plan had worked.

  “I’ll have Johnny and Tat meet them. The rest of you stay here.” Luke pushed back from the ledge, then stood, retracing his steps to the horses.

  “Can you see Lydia?” Billy asked, his voice anxious.

  Bull saw children running around, groups of men talking, women finishing chores outside their tipis, but no sign of Lydia. Then his gaze lit on a lone figure standing with his arms crossed and feet apart. His face was painted, his clothing appearing to be more ceremonial than that of a brave.

  “Billy, take a look at the warrior in the center of the camp.” Handing the glasses over, Bull continued to stare, even though he couldn’t make out anything at this distance.

  Billy adjusted the glasses a couple times, moving them across the camp until they focused on the figure Bull described. “White Buffalo.” He lowered the glasses, casting a somber look at Bull. “He’s wearing ceremonial clothing.”

  Bull swallowed the bile in his throat. “What ceremony?”

  “Marriage.”

  As if in a trance, Lydia let the women guide her to a place several feet away from White Buffalo. As a captive, she’d seen the brief marriage ceremony several times, vowing to herself she’d never participate and certainly never be the bride. Yet here she was, bound to the one man she never wanted to see again.

  She knew it would be short. Their traditions were nothing like the white man’s. White Buffalo would offer her a horse, Red Tail would take their hands and fold them together, then the medicine man would announce Lydia and White Buffalo were now bound together. They were then free to stay and celebrate or disappear—whichever White Buffalo decided.

  The sounds of the drums and singing pounded in her head. Her stomach roiled at the chatter of those surrounding them. Then silence. She glanced up to see Red Tail, along with the medicine man, emerge from his tipi. To her right, Strong Eagle appeared, leading a horse toward White Buffalo. It was an offering she cared nothing about.

  Lydia understood their tradition of the husband returning to the bride’s mother’s tipi to live, wondering what it meant for her. She had no mother, no tipi…no home.

  “White Buffalo, you agree to be bound to this woman, Golden Bird?” Red Tail stared at the warrior, his features stern, unmoving.

  “Yes.”

 
Red Tail then turned to Lydia. “Golden Bird, you agree to be bound to this man, White Buffalo?”

  She hesitated, knowing there was but one answer. Offering herself in exchange for Sam’s and Mal’s freedom hadn’t taken hold until this moment—a moment when a promise became real.

  Glancing at White Buffalo, she saw the anger begin to burn in his eyes. Incurring his wrath would be a monumental mistake.

  Clearing her throat, she nodded. “Yes.”

  Red Tail took her right hand, then White Buffalo’s, holding them together as he looked at the people of his village.

  “This man and this woman are now bound.” The chief stepped back, turning, walking back to his tipi.

  White Buffalo did not release her hand. Tugging her to him, he leaned in close, warning her with his eyes. “You will come with me.” Not waiting for a response, he pulled her to a tipi near the far side of the village. Opening the flap, he didn’t turn to her as he stepped inside.

  Lydia came to an abrupt halt, her body rigid. “No. Wait.” She knew this moment would come, had told herself over and over not to resist, knowing the consequences could be severe.

  Faced with the reality of what would happen inside the tipi, she found her legs wouldn’t move. Her breathing stalled, her gaze darting around as she searched for an escape. White Buffalo’s mother told her Sam and Mal had been released. By now, they would be safely back with Bull and the others. Red Tail had honored her request.

  By her words, she’d fulfilled her promise to be bound to White Buffalo. Could she go through with being bound to him physically? Her life would cease to exist once she crossed into the tipi. The only alternative was to run, which she felt certain would result in death.

  One hard tug caused Lydia to stumble across the threshold. Brutal hands grasped her arms, shaking her until she felt her teeth rattle. He glared at her as if he’d been able to read her thoughts.

  “It is too late for escape, Golden Bird.” With those words, he tossed her to the ground and closed the flap.

  Bull wanted to rage at the world, shout that Lydia was his and no other man had the right to her. Watching her disappear into the tent with White Buffalo was too much to bear.

  When he started to push from the ground, a hand clamped across his mouth before strong hands pulled him away from the ledge, wrestling him back to the ground. Luke and Travis worked to control what could be a deadly situation if Bull acted on his emotions.

  As he struggled to gain freedom from their hold on his arms, Tat and Johnny dropped to their knees, each grabbing one of his legs, holding him still.

  “We will get her back.” Luke stared at his close friend, his gaze unwavering as hate poured from Bull’s face. “Going in there now will only get us all killed, and Lydia will still be with White Buffalo.”

  Bull shook his head, his body convulsing as he tried to wrench away from their grasp.

  “Dammit, Bull. You have to get control. Besides, we have something White Buffalo doesn’t.” A small grin pulled up the corners of Luke’s mouth when Bull’s eyes went wide. “Now, if you’re ready to listen, we’ll let go.”

  Bull cursed, stopping his attempts to break free. The others backed away when he stood, not knowing what to expect from a man who’d always been slow to anger and reticent to use his fists. He turned to Luke, a look on his face none of them had ever seen before.

  “You tell me what we have that will change any of this.” The look in his eyes was hostile, yet pleading. He needed to hear a solution, something that would take away the pain seizing his heart.

  “There’s nothing that will change what we just saw, but we do have a way to get her back.” Luke watched Bull’s eyes narrow. “Unless you won’t take her back after what you saw.”

  “Hell yes, I want her back. I don’t care what he does to her. She’ll always be mine.”

  Luke studied Bull’s face, seeing bleak despair and unfathomable loss. “Who hates Red Tail and White Buffalo even more than we do?”

  Bull shook his head, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “No one hates them more than me.”

  “You’re wrong. There’s one man who’s never made a secret of his disgust of the renegade Crow band. Hell, he has no love for any of the Crow people, but especially not Red Tail.”

  Bull’s gaze left Luke’s as he thought about those he knew with a grudge against the Crow. A slow surge of understanding had him straightening, his eyes widening.

  “Running Bear…” Bull breathed out the name as if it were a small slice of salvation.

  “That’s right. The Crow band has been raiding his village for years, stealing horses, food, and…” Luke paused, letting Bull recall why else they might garner the support of the Blackfoot chief.

  “They tried to take Running Bear’s granddaughter when she’d been alone at the river.” Bull remembered the incident of a few months ago. “If we hadn’t come along, scattering White Buffalo and his braves, they would have succeeded.”

  “Running Bear promised whatever we need, all we had to do was ask.”

  Bull thought about the consequences of asking the Blackfoot for help. The tribe aligned themselves with the Sioux and Cheyenne, traditional enemies of the Crow. Asking Running Bear for help would trigger a conflict beyond anything imaginable. Many would be killed to reclaim one woman. His woman.

  “I won’t ask Running Bear to put his people in danger. I can’t accept the responsibility of the lives that will be lost.” Bull closed his eyes, then shook his head, turning his back to Luke. “Taking Lydia back is up to me and no one else.”

  Luke crossed his arms, bracing himself for Bull’s reaction. “Can’t let you go in alone.”

  Bull spun around, taking a threatening step toward Luke. “You don’t have a choice. I’m going after her—alone.”

  “The hell you are.” Billy moved to one side of Luke.

  Travis flanked Luke’s other side. “Sorry, Bull. You can’t make the decision for us.”

  “For any of us.”

  Bull turned at the sound of Sam’s voice. He and Mal staggered toward him, their clothes torn and filthy, their bodies riddled with cuts and bruises. Walking to him, Bull wrapped his arms around Sam, emotion overwhelming them both.

  Sam dropped his arms and stepped away. “I’m going after my sister, Bull. You might as well accept it.”

  “We’re all going.” Mal dropped to the ground. “Just give me a few minutes to rest up.”

  Bull stared at Mal. He’d been captured, brutalized, then released. He shouldn’t want to return, putting himself in more danger.

  “Did they beat all common sense out of both of you?” Bull asked.

  Sam scrubbed a hand down his face. “Might be, but it doesn’t matter. I’m getting my sister away from that sorry sonofabitch.”

  “If it were Ginny or Rachel, what would you do?” Luke’s gaze met Bull’s, challenging him.

  Accepting a hard line had been drawn by the men around him, Bull let out a slow breath. “I’d go after her.”

  Luke clamped a hand on Bull’s shoulder. “Then it’s settled. First light, we ride west to find Running Bear.”

  Chapter Seven

  Redemption’s Edge

  “It’s been almost two weeks, Rachel. I thought they would’ve been back by now.” Ginny rested a hand on her protruding stomach as she lowered herself onto a kitchen chair. “Do you think they’re all right?”

  Rachel glanced over her shoulder, noting the deep lines at the corners of Ginny’s eyes and the signs of worry on her face. She’d stayed with Rachel and Dax since Luke left with the search party. Each day added more stress to her already drawn features.

  “I wish I knew, Ginny. I’m as worried as you, but Dax says it could take weeks for them to find Sam and return.”

  “He’s not anxious about them being gone so long?” Ginny had watched Dax as he left each morning, then returned for supper. On the outside, he seemed calm, unconcerned about his brother and the others. As an ex-Confederate general,
she knew he’d school himself to show no signs of weakness or doubt. She wondered if he felt the same inside.

  Rachel dried her hands on her apron, turning to face Ginny. “If he is, he’s doing a good job of hiding it.” Taking a seat, she grasped Ginny’s hand and squeezed. “Luke would’ve sent someone back for help if they were in trouble. None of them are the type to make rash decisions or put themselves in more danger than necessary. They’ll do what’s needed, then come home.”

  If she were being truthful with herself, Rachel had slept little the last few nights for worry over the men. Like Ginny, she’d thought they’d find Sam, take him back, and return within a few days. According to Dax, her expectations were idealistic at best, naïve at worst. At this point in Ginny’s pregnancy, she needed as much encouragement as possible, not an increase in her worry.

  “Let’s walk out to the barn. Dax is with the men on the north pasture and asked me to check on the new colt. I’m not sure why. I don’t think I could tell if he had a problem.” Rachel laughed, taking Ginny’s arm and helping her stand, leading her out of the house.

  With so many gone, few men worked close to the house during the day. Most were needed to ride fences or keep check on the herd. Dax had asked Dirk to move the cattle from the eastern section of the ranch to the west and north. It meant the cattle had to be rotated more frequently, but it made it easier to keep track of the large herd.

  “You haven’t been out to see the colt, have you?” Rachel stopped when Ginny’s face contorted in pain. “Are you all right?”

  Clutching her stomach with both hands, Ginny bent over, crying out.

  Wrapping an arm around her waist, Rachel helped her to the side of the barn where Luke and Dax had built a small bench. “Sit down and tell me what you’re feeling.”