He had always known he would claim a wife someday, but he had not been in a hurry to do so. Marriage had only seemed like a requirement for a man, regardless of whether he loved the woman. If he enjoyed her lovemaking, that was usually enough. So, if only a few weeks ago, someone had told him that he would be so ferociously in love—with any woman—White Owl would have called them a liar. But now he couldn’t begin to imagine a future without his Wild Rose. He only wished they would never have to return to a life that would constantly try to test their unending love.
Chapter Eighteen
Rose gingerly sipped the scalding coffee from the tin cup she held in both hands. This morning was the first time it had actually felt like an autumn day. The long drought seemed as though it was about to come to a screeching halt by the way the darkening clouds were gathering overhead. She had no idea how long they planned to stay in this enchanting place—White Owl just shrugged whenever she asked him, but she had a feeling he did not intend to linger through the winter months.
She guessed that they had been here nearly two months, but time meant nothing here. Although she knew it was not feasible, she really did wish they could stay forever. Spending the rest of her life alone with her virile and handsome husband, completely secluded from the rest of the world, did not sound bad at all.
The sound of horse hooves snapped Rose out of her wishful daydreaming. White Owl had ridden out earlier to hunt in case the weather turned severe and they had to hole up in their cozy cave for a few days, an idea that sounded very appealing to Rose. She smiled to herself as she placed her coffee cup on the ground and rose to her feet.
As the rider drew closer, however, Rose realized that he was not her beloved husband. It was a Ute, though; she could see the colorful striped wool coat he wore over his tan leggings. But a flat-topped, wide-brimmed black hat hid his face. She wrapped her woolen blanket tighter around her body as she felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the cooler weather.
Only when the rider was a few feet away could she tell it was Two Feathers. The knowledge did not ease her mind.
He stared down at her, unspeaking, for a moment and then glanced around the campsite. “Where is my brother?” His chiseled expression and the coldness in his tone only served to increase Rose’s fear.
“H-he is hunting,” she stammered. Her feet were rooted to the spot, even as he climbed down from his horse and walked to the opposite side of the fire pit to warm his hands.
“He will be happy to see you,” Rose finally managed to say. Her feeling of dread increased when his only reply was a grunt.
She motioned toward the tin pan on one of the rocks that ringed the fire. “Would you like coffee?”
A quick nod was Two Feathers’ response.
As she got another cup and poured the coffee, she could sense his hostile stare watching her every move. By the time she reached out to give him the cup, her hands were shaking. His cold fingertips briefly touched her hand. He grabbed the cup and pulled back as if he had been stung by a bee. She glanced up and met his gaze; the hatred that he felt toward her radiated from his narrowed black eyes. Rose backed away so quickly that she tripped over the long blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She would have fallen if a pair of strong hands had not grabbed her and stopped her from hitting the ground.
White Owl steadied her. The look on his face was pained and filled with confusion.
“I did not hear you ride up,” Rose said as she tried to regain her composure.
“I let Niwaa loose down at the creek.” White Owl turned away from her. “My brother, it is good to see you. I hope you did not bring bad news?”
Two Feathers met his brother’s gaze. “No, no bad news. All is good.”
Rose heard White Owl exhale as if he was relieved. “Then you come because you miss your big brother,” White Owl replied as he attempted to sound jovial.
They had been together long enough that Rose was becoming attuned to her husband’s moods and the tones of his voice. She knew now that his words were only that . . . words, and there was a much deeper meaning to Two Feathers’ arrival.
“Our father and mother miss you. But I am glad you are gone.” Two Feathers’ attempt to joke was not conveyed in his expression. He took another swig from the coffee cup. “I can see that there is no need to worry, my brother. You look well.”
White Owl’s arm encircled Rose’s shoulder as he pulled her against him. “Yes, my wife keeps me very happy.” He smiled down at her.
Rose swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. She could not speak. In spite of her husband’s comforting hold, she did not feel safe. She glanced at Two Feathers. His expression was the same: unreadable and distant.
White Owl loosened his hold on Rose. “I have brought back a rabbit to eat.” He motioned toward the kill lying at his feet. “Wild Rose will cook it for us.”
Rose nodded and quickly moved to retrieve the dead rabbit. She was anxious to move away from Two Feathers. Besides, it was obvious that the real reason for his visit would not be discussed until she was out of earshot. Still, she was more than a little curious to know why he had showed up so unexpectedly. Someday she also hoped to learn why he hated her so much.
As Rose cleaned the rabbit, she strained to hear the conversation between her husband and his brother. But they had walked away from the camp and she could hear nothing but the howling wind bellowing through the valley. The flames in the big fire pit danced beneath the pot Rose had hung from a spit above the fire. Soon they would have to start cooking at the fire pit in the cave, instead of out here in the meadow. Rose attempted to keep her blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she placed the rabbit in a pot over the fire to boil for rabbit stew.
She glanced up as she heard the men approaching. Neither of them met her gaze. Rose shivered more violently and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. However, she was more nervous than she was cold.
“Wild Rose is becoming a good cook,” White Owl said in a tone that was more enthusiastic than necessary.
A grunt was Two Feathers’ reply.
“Thank you, husband,” Rose said as she bent to stir the contents in the pot. The water was just beginning to come to a boil. Yesterday, when White Owl had predicted that the weather was going to turn cold, they had spent the day gathering up the roots and autumn berries before the freeze. Now she tossed a portion of those edible fruits and vegetables into the pot. The majority of them were in the cave drying so that they could store them for later on.
She glanced back up and unintentionally met the surly stare of her brother-in-law. Her gaze dropped to the ground, and as she took a clumsy step backward, she once again tripped over the long tip of the blanket. But this time, White Owl was not close enough to catch her. Her fall seemed slow moving as she began to tumble forward. But when she was grabbed roughly and placed upright on her feet again, she had not even had time to take a complete breath. A gasp escaped from her as she looked up into the hateful glare of her rescuer. Two Feathers’ expression did nothing to induce her gratitude.
“You should be careful—you could have a bad accident,” Two Feathers said flatly.
Rose felt the strong arms of her husband surround her. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I think you need to get rid of that blanket.”
Rose ran her tongue along her dry lips. “Yes, I will get my coat. And thank you, Two Feathers.” Her voice was hoarse and her breath felt as if it was not reaching her lungs. Her rescuer did not respond to her words of appreciation.
White Owl kept her in his tight embrace and Rose leaned against him as closely as possible. Two Feathers’ unfriendly glare made her feel vulnerable, but she knew she was completely safe in her husband’s embrace.
“My brother cannot stay,” White Owl said. “He will eat and then head back to our village.”
“I’ll get the meal done quickly so you can be on your way,” she said as she narrowed her gaze at Two Feathers. She saw a brief look of surprise filter thro
ugh his expression as he realized that she was not intimidated by him any longer.
As she pulled away from White Owl to return to her cooking duties, he yanked her back to him and kissed her mouth hard. When he turned her loose, she could not help a wide grin. It was as if he wanted to prove to his brother how much desire he had for her.
White Owl retrieved her heavy wool coat from the cave. She had stuffed only a few articles of clothes and necessities in her bag when she had left her parents’ house, and now she was grateful she had thought to pack this coat. It was easier for her to maneuver around the fire pit, and she busied herself with stirring the rabbit stew and getting ready for the meal. The men sat beside the fire and smoked from a long pipe.
The brothers spoke in Ute most of the time, but their conversation was interlaced with occasional words in the white man’s language, and Rose could tell they were discussing different family members. She longed to ask how Sage and Shy Girl were doing, but decided to wait to ask White Owl about them after his brother left, which she hoped would be soon.
Once the stew was finished and ladled into wooden bowls to cool, Rose followed the Ute custom and placed the bowls in front of the men, then retreated to the other side of the fire to wait for them to eat before she served herself. When it had just been her and White Owl, they had eaten every meal together, but she didn’t want to chance making Two Feathers resent her even more. She noticed that White Owl stared at her with a quizzical expression for a moment, and then he nodded and grinned. Rose was grateful that she had remembered this custom from her brief time in the Ute village.
After the men had finished eating Rose ate her meal and was pleasantly surprised at how good the stew tasted. She smiled to herself . . . she really was getting the hang of cooking over an open fire. White Owl and Two Feathers were standing by the horses, and it appeared that Two Feathers was getting ready to leave. He had not said another word to her after the fire incident. Now he held the reins to his horse in one hand. His other hand was waving through the air as if he was angry about something. But they were not shouting. Rose could barely hear their voices. She couldn’t wait for him to leave so that she could ask White Owl why he had come. Whatever it was, she sensed that it wasn’t to bring good news. Something was going on. She just hoped her husband would tell her everything once they were alone again.
Rose busied herself with cleaning up after the meal while the men continued their heated but hushed conversation. Then Two Feathers said something loudly in Ute and jumped up on his horse. Without a glance at her or back at his brother, he kicked his horse in the sides and galloped out of the camp. Until he disappeared from view in the deep canyon, White Owl remained rooted to the spot. He finally turned and began to walk back to Rose. He did not meet her inquiring stare as he reached the fire pit and stood beside her to warm his hands over the flames.
“Why did he really come today?” Rose asked.
White Owl stared into the fire but did not answer right away.
“Has something bad happened? Please tell me,” Rose pleaded. A hard knot was forming in the pit of her stomach and making it feel as if her food was about to come back up.
“There has been a battle at the agency,” he finally said in a flat voice.
“What?” Rose cried. “How bad was it?” She saw White Owl take a deep breath and sensed what his next words would be.
“The men there were all killed,” he answered.
“A-all of them,” Rose gasped. The smiling face of Frank Weber, the owner of the general store, flashed through her mind. And Nathan Meeker and all the other men she had seen around the agency when she had been there in the past. She swallowed the taste of bile in her mouth.
“What about the-the women and children?”
White Owl picked up a log and tossed it on the fire, even though it was not necessary. He shrugged. “They were all taken captive.”
“Oh no!” Tears streamed down her face. The cold air made them feel like ice. She had heard enough stories about what happened to white women who were taken captive to know that the women from the agency were undoubtedly suffering unthinkable indignities, if they were even still alive. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared into the fire as she tried to wipe away the horrible images.
She had met all three of the women. There was the elderly wife of Nathan Meeker, the sweet, gentle Arvilla, and their adventurous daughter, Josephine, who was a couple of years older than Rose and loved by everyone who met her. Then there was the beautiful and quiet Mrs. Price. She was even younger than Rose, but she and her young husband already had two very small children. That poor girl was a widow now, Rose realized, but she could not even begin to comprehend what Mrs. Price and those two babies must be going through.
“I have to go home. I have to make sure my family is safe,” Rose said in barely more than a whisper.
White Owl continued to stare into the flames. “Your family is safe. Two Feathers told me. The battle was nearly three weeks ago. There is no need to go back now.”
“Three weeks?” Rose repeated. She couldn’t imagine all that horror had happened three weeks ago and they were just hearing about it now. “I still have to go.” Rose continued to stare into the fire as she added, “I have to go home today and see with my own eyes that my family is safe.”
White Owl sighed deeply. “I will take you back. But I was hoping that your home was with me now.”
Rose heard the sorrow in his voice as the meaning of his words pierced her heart. She turned to face him and encircled his waist with her arms. He pulled her against him, and she rested her head against his broad chest. “You are everything—everything—to me, my husband. I did not mean it the way I said it. It’s just that they, my family—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “And the time was coming for us to go back anyway. It would be foolish to stay here all winter.”
She had hoped he would tell her once she saw her family, they could come back here and never leave again. But he was right—it was foolish to think they could live this idyllic life forever. Being in this magical place, it was even harder to imagine the horror of what must have happened at the White River Agency. But they couldn’t hide away from the rest of the world forever, and knowing that all those men had been killed and thinking about what those women and babies must be going through, she could not imagine that everything would ever be the same again.
“I will pack,” she said as a crushing sadness invaded her.
“There is something I must tell you first,” White Owl added.
An added sense of dread gripped at Rose’s heart. “What is it?” she asked tentatively.
“When we were still at my village, before we left to come here for the wedding trip, I knew.”
Rose stared up at him and shrugged. “What—what did you know?”
“I knew the battle was going to happen soon, and that is why I was in such a hurry to get you away. I spoke to Chief Jack and my father about it before we left. They understood, and they both agreed we should stay here until it was over.” His voice grew pleading as he added, “Please understand that I did it to protect you, only because I love you so much.”
She pulled away from White Owl and took a step back as her mind tried to grasp what he had just told her. His rush to leave the village had seemed odd, but she had thought that he was as eager to start their married life together as she was. Now she learned his actions were also to protect her. She looked up at him. His handsome face was a mask of sadness and worry; his raven gaze was tender and undeniably filled with the love he had just spoken of.
“I understand, too,” she said sorrowfully. But she could not talk any more about it. She clutched at the hard knot in her chest and turned away as she headed for the cave. The wind nearly knocked her over as she climbed up the slope, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. Once she reached the shelter of the cave, the reality of everything that he had just told her hit her even harder than the vicious wind blowing outside. She thre
w her hands over her face and let the loud sobs consume her. Her body shook as the fiery tears streamed down her face.
Even the feel of White Owl’s arms embracing her when he joined her in the cave could not console her this time. She allowed him to turn her around, and she buried her face against his chest. For the first time since she had fallen in love with him, being in his arms did not make her feel safe, because she knew that once they left this secluded sanctuary, nothing would ever be the same again.
Outside the cave, the wind continued to wail, and now a hard, fast rain was pelting down on the ground. Under different circumstances, the storm would have seemed miraculous after the long drought. Now it only added to Rose’s feeling of gloom.
White Owl cradled her in his arms as they sat beside the fire pit in the cave. She had long since cried herself into a numb stupor. She had resigned herself that there was no way they were going to be able to leave today. It would be impossible to travel in this kind of weather.
Sitting in her husband’s lap, she felt like a helpless, confused child. As much as she needed to make sure her family had truly not been affected by the battle with the Utes, another part of her wished the weather would never clear up so that she would not have to face the harsh realities of what had happened. If there was one thing she was certain of, however, it was that there was no way now her family would ever accept her marriage to White Owl.
“I don’t entirely blame the Utes for what happened at the agency,” Rose whispered after a long, deafening silence. She guessed they had probably been sitting in the cave for a couple of hours or longer. “I know this trouble has been brewing for a very long time.”
“Since the white men first came to our lands,” White Owl replied quietly.
His words were spoken in a tone that made her choke up with tears again. It was beyond her comprehension how much his people must have suffered at the hands of the white men. But she still couldn’t excuse the fact that some of his tribesmen had killed all those innocent men at the agency and taken the women and children captive.
White Owl Page 13
