As she watched, Sloan reached over, touching Hawk's bare bronze arm. He spoke, and Hawk nodded, but Hawk's back remained toward Skylar. He knew she was there. He wasn't going to acknowledge her now as he rode away.
And he did not. He rode on ahead with the party, right behind Crazy Horse.
Sloan, however, rode back toward her for a moment. "Where are you going?" she asked him worriedly.
"Hunting."
She nodded, glad to hear that they weren't going on a raid. She glanced over Sloan's bronze, barely clad body to the single feather in his hair. ' 'If you run into army troops, they're likely to shoot you and Hawk."
Sloan nodded with a slight shrug. ' 'We won't be running into any troops. Not today. We're heading west."
"Crow country?"
"Probably not that far."
She approached Sloan's horse, frowning. "You're only hunting to make sure there are no more Crow parties in the area, aren't you?"
"We're hunting because the season is still good. And maybe we're looking for a few Crow."
"Be careful, Sloan. Make him be careful, too, please."
"We both know what we're doing, Skylar."
"Generals with every skill in the world and years of experience can be shot out of their saddles."
"Skylar, we'll be careful. By the way, what's for dinner?"
The wicked gleam in his eye assured her he was well aware there might be controversy within her tipi.
"Something quite unbelievable," she assured him sweetly. Then she started, moving back, because from where she had stood, Sloan's horse had blocked her view of the trail from the camp—and the fact that Hawk had ridden back along it. He moved his horse alongside Sloan's, talking to his friend. "Are you joining us, or do you intend to flirt with my wife all day?"
Sloan refused to take offense. "I'd probably rather flirt with your wife. Actually, I was just asking about dinner."
Hawk lifted a brow as he gazed down at Skylar.
"She's assured me that the meal will be unbelievable," Sloan said pleasantly.
"You came back to ask about dinner?" he demanded of Sloan.
"I'm hungry," Sloan said simply. Hawk gazed at him through narrowed eyes. "And quite curious to discover your wife's cooking talents. And besides, I thought she did deserve an explanation of where we were going."
"Hunting," Hawk said.
"And looking for Crows," Skylar accused him.
Now Hawk was glaring at Sloan. Sloan lifted a hand. "I told her we know what we're doing—"
"And I told him that the most experienced man can get himself killed."
"I'm not going to get myself killed—if I'm the one you're worried about. And you needn't fear for yourself; my grandfather knows that in case something happens to me, you're to be returned to Mayfair."
"I'm not worried about getting back," she told him.
"Then I guess we're all just worrying about dinner," Sloan interjected.
Hawk made no effort to hide his exasperation. He leaned toward Skylar, saying, "Lodge pole!" Then he kneed Tor and cantered off down the trail.
"Lodge pole?" Sloan demanded.
Skylar shrugged. "Is there any recourse Sioux women have against their husbands?"
"Divorce," Sloan said cheerfully.
"Can't she tie him to a lodge pole and take out her frustrations on him?"
Sloan laughed softly. "I'm afraid you've little hope of ever doing that. If he were to beat you too severely, your relatives could certainly protest and endanger his respect within the community. But you haven't any relatives here. Skylar. . ."
"Yes?"
"Has he really hurt you so badly?"
She flushed uncomfortably. "No, he scared me halfway to death at first, but he's never hurt me, it's just that..."
"This meal with Crazy Horse is important to him."
"And I intend to be a proper wife."
Sloan smiled. "It's too bad the three of us aren't full- blooded Sioux. I could steal you away, leaving several good ponies as payment." "It appears to me," Skylar said shrewdly, "that you are quite busy enough without a wife."
"What? Ah ... Earth Woman."
"Is that her name? How fitting."
"Ouch. You do have claws."
"Well, I thought. . . never mind."
"Watch those thoughts. Sioux men and women are like other men and women; within the framework of society, some are simply better people than others. But morality is high here—"
"When a man isn't wife-stealing."
"Wife-stealing brings about a stigma."
"Wife-beating."
"Very few men beat their wives. And you tell me, are white men always kind and gentle with their wives?"
Her heart seemed to harden as she looked him. She shook her head. "You're right. White men can be monsters." She inhaled. "Don't you dare let him enjoy the day, Sloan. But you needn't worry. I do intend to be the perfect wife."
Sloan smiled. With a wave, he rode off to join his hunting party.
They rode for several hours on the trail of an elk herd. Hawk used the time to talk with Crazy Horse and his cousins, finding it important to keep communication between them as open and complete as possible. But after a while he found himself drawn back to Sloan, and they rode at the rear of the party.
"Tension in paradise?" Sloan drawled.
"You caused the tension this morning," Hawk informed him.
Sloan raised a brow.
"She thought I was the man waiting for Earth Woman."
"Why didn't you just tell her the truth?"
' 'If she was going to be so quick to assume that I'd do such a thing, she didn't deserve the truth."
"Ah."
"And I've never been able to get the truth out of her."
"She lies?" Sloan queried, startled.
Hawk shook his head. "Not exactly. It's just so damned Irustrating not to know anything—"
"She's on the run," Sloan said simply.
"You think she's wanted by the law?" Hawk demanded incredulously.
Sloan shook his head. He shrugged. "She was a little upset, asking me if Sioux women had some recourse against their husbands."
"Really?"
"Well, did you threaten to beat her at a lodge pole?"
Hawk shrugged. "She wasn't really threatened."
"Maybe she's not quite so sure of you—or herself—as you might think."
"What are you talking about?"
Sloan shook his head. "I don't know exactly—she's not my wife. I can't threaten to beat things out of her."
Hawk exhaled with impatience. Sloan put up a hand to stop him before he could talk.
"She told me that you had never really hurt her—"
"Damn it, Sloan, that you would need to ask—"
"But someone did hurt her, Hawk. Someone who still scares her now. Someone in her past. Maybe she ran from a husband—"
"I'm her husband."
"Hawk, I'm just telling you—"
"She was never married before."
"How can you—"
"Unless she was married to a damned eunuch."
"Oh. Well, there's someone out there she's running from. Maybe an abusive father, brother, uncle—who knows? She said that she knew white men could be monsters."
"Monsters?" Hawk said.
"Yes."
' 'Monsters?''
"Yes! Monsters."
Hawk frowned, remembering the way she had awakened, screaming, from her dream. She'd refused to describe the nightmare that had plagued her.
Except that it had contained ...
Monsters.
"What? Is that some kind of a clue?" Sloan demanded.
Hawk shrugged. "I don't know. I will know soon enough. I've asked Henry to find out about her past for me. And she's going to have a real monster in her life tonight if she's rude to Crazy Horse: me. I damn well guarantee you a monster!"
Sloan shrugged, then pointed ahead of them. "I think that our hunting party ahead may be on to something
!"
"A party of Crow?"
"No, I think we'd have heard a war cry by now, were that the case. Though I just don't get it. I didn't understand the other night at all, and I can't believe there are more Crows in the area. They'd have to be half insane. What in hell would they be up to, riding in this region?"
"I don't know," Hawk said. It bothered Sloan, it bothered him, but why, he couldn't quite say. "It seems like a strange time. A damned strange time," Hawk muttered.
Sloan glanced at him sharply. "Why? What more?"
Hawk looked quickly to his friend in turn. "A strange man approached Henry Pierpont. He had a Douglas ring— one that should have been buried with my brother. And I was asked to go to the Highlands—to a place we call the Druid Stone—on the night of the Moon Maiden."
Sloan stared at him incredulously for a moment, then carefully lowered his eyes, composing his features. Hawk knew that he intended to weigh his words, to keep his friend from what might be false hope. "How could David be alive? You buried him yourself."
"I buried a burned corpse, of that I am certain."
Sloan shook his head. "Someone suddenly appearing. Saying that David might be alive? It sounds like a hoax. You shouldn't get your hopes up, my friend."
"How can I not go?"
"Because life is grave here. Have you thought that someone may want you dead now? Your brother has been gone more than five years, now your father as well. If you are killed, there is a clean sweep, and the title and rights to your Scottish estates may be very dear to someone else."
"Indeed, I've thought of all the angles."
"Including your wife, I imagine!" Sloan smiled suddenly. "Poor thing—after all this, she may not be Lady Douglas."
Hawk nodded grimly. "Would it matter to her, do you think?"
"Would it matter to you that you were not Lord Douglas?"
"You know that it would not."
"Nor do I think that it would matter to your wife. Hmm. Interesting. Is she your wife? If David proved to be alive? A Sioux warrior first, a bloody Highlander next. The poor woman could be sorry she ever heard the name Douglas."
"She is my wife. Henry guaranteed me of that legality. Imagine poor David back from the grave—with a wild creature for a wife! Nay, the lady is mine. And I wish I dared believe we were not Lord and Lady Douglas. Still, Sloan, I wonder what she will think when she discovers that I may well whisk her back from Indian territory to drag her across the seas."
"Hawk, I think you judge her too harshly. But then, I am afforded the luxury of my distance while watching you fall in love with the lady, so it is far easier for me to be generous."
Hawk offered him an irritated scowl. "It's best she's becoming accustomed to the tipi, don't you think?"
Sloan smiled, then sobered. "You can think of leaving here now—"
"I won't leave while we're in the midst of negotiations. But I admit, I am anxious to discover the truth."
"You'd think that something going on here would tie in some way."
Hawk arched a brow. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know ... your mysterious new wife. Crow act- ing strange. And someone claiming that your brother is alive, after all these years."
"I can't imagine a connection between Scotland and the Badlands."
"Nor Crow and your wife."
"Scotland will wait. The Crow situation—especially as it now involves my wife—will not."
"The Crow have always been our enemies, but they are an enemy we recognize. An enemy who are brave, who battle in our ways. We respect a warrior, they respect a warrior. I don't know what it is about this that doesn't seem right at all," Sloan said.
"It was an absurd place for such a party to be," Hawk mused. "Still... why the hell does it bother me so much?"
"Why the hell?" Sloan agreed. "The men are all dead," he reminded Hawk.
Sloan was right. The Crow who had attacked Skylar were dead. The incident was over. Hawk looked at Sloan, then let out a sudden bird cry to the others ahead of them in the party, though a Crow might well recognize it as a false cry anyway.
But from up ahead, Crazy Horse called back softly. Sloan had been right; Crazy Horse and the others ahead had not come upon a party of their enemies. They had happened on the family of elks they had followed.
Hawk drew an arrow from the quiver at his back for his bow. He glanced at Sloan, who likewise had taken along his bow and arrows for the hunt.
With somewhat sheepish shrugs, they kneed their horses as they had done as boys.
They let out loud, whooping cries and raced after their prey like the wind.
The hunt was on.
Twenty
Deer Woman arrived at Skylar's tipi moments after the inen had ridden off to hunt. She tapped on the layer of skins just as politely as a neighbor in town might knock at the front door. She brought a large quantity of buffalo meat, all manner of berries, and sweet corn, which she had probably acquired from a trader. Little Rabbit, who accompanied her, carried water and a heavy kettle for cooking. Skylar thanked them both. When it appeared that Deer Woman meant to do all the work for her, Skylar shook her head, encouraging the woman and the girl to sit. Even though she was aware that neither of them understood her, she chattered away, keeping her voice friendly and light. "I've never minded cooking, but of course I've been rather lucky in that respect. We weren't incredibly wealthy but we always had help. Servants, not slaves. We were never uctually Southern, even though some of my relatives live in Virginia and fought for the Confederacy. Maryland, where we lived, was a true border state, neighbor spying on neighbor. And worse. But that was a long time ago now. My sister and I always loved to play in the kitchen. Not too long ago, our mother took ill. We loved her very much, so we'd do anything to help her—and looking after her probably kept our minds off him. But I think he's paid by now for what he did to us. God, I'm not even sure if he's alive or dead, No, he has to be alive; that's why it's so important to get Sabrina here quickly. Away from him. It's all happening now, so I am in Hawk's debt, you see. And I'm also feeling just a little bit foolish for having attacked Hawk when I really had no reason to. It's a strange bargain that he and I made."
Deer Woman looked at Little Rabbit. Little Rabbit looked back at Deer Woman. It was obvious they were slightly afraid that their beloved Thunder Hawk had taken on not just a white woman but a crazy one.
But Skylar kept busy as she talked. The women had also brought loose tea and coffee in their bags, and she made tea for them, lacing it with sugar cubes she had brought from Mayfair. Deer Woman appeared very skeptical when Skylar tried to get her to drink but Little Rabbit was adventurous and inquisitive. She tasted the tea and then smiled, encouraging Deer Woman to do the same. Skylar was happy to see her Sioux friends enjoying the new treat of sugary tea.
The three of them wound up giggling and laughing. Soon, other women in the band began to arrive. Skylar kept making more tea. Eventually, Earth Woman arrived. Skylar knew that she stiffened when the woman smilingly joined them. She tried not to get upset because Earth Woman seemed very happy to join the gathering. She had brought Skylar a second dress, one in a darker shade of doeskin, with exquisite quillwork. Skylar knew that she had to accept the garment, but she was learning Sioux ways as well. She kept talking, even though the women couldn't understand her, and she gave away every piece of clothing she had brought with her. The women giggled and laughed over her pantalettes, enjoyed her corsets, adored her hosiery. It was a strange party, and all the while that it took place, she worked on the dinner she would serve when the men returned. And despite her determination to work alone, she had help. Crazy Horse's people were a hunting band; she understood that much. They were not like the agency Indians who had become farmers. But even when they were at odds with the government, it seemed, they had ways to trade. The list of ingredients for her stew had grown. In addition to the salt and pepper she had taken from her own saddlebags, and the buffalo meat, corn, berries, and potatoes Deer Woman had brought,
she also had onions, which some of the other women had given her. By the time the women began to leave, returning to their tipis to make sure that they had food for their own returning warriors, the stew bubbling in her cauldron was giving off a mouthwatering aroma.
Earth Woman hovered behind, not leaving with the others. When they were alone and Skylar turned to look at her, the beautiful Indian woman smiled. ' 'I made you mad this morning, no?"
The woman spoke English. Skylar wondered with a sinking sensation of dismay just what she had said throughout the afternoon. She tried to assure herself that anything she might not want repeated had been said before Earth Woman had arrived.
"You didn't make me mad," Skylar said now, carefully choosing her words. "I was—upset. Because—"
"Because you thought your husband kept a Sioux woman." She tossed her hair back. "Upset, mad. My English is only so good. They are one and the same. I am not Sioux, I am Cheyenne. I was very young, with my first husband, when my band was massacred along Sand Creek. I was not much older, with my second husband traveling with Black Kettle who also survived Sand Creek, when the Son-of-the-Morning-Star, Long Knife, Custer, came and murdered all the women and children along the Washita. Neither my husband nor Black Kettle survived that time. My third husband was crippled in a battle with the Crow. He was taken prisoner by the Americans, and I learned my English at Fort Abraham Lincoln while he fought to live. But he, too, died. Now I am here, living with Crazy Horse. My husband's brothers hunt for me. The Sioux are a strict people, virtuous. But I am a Human Being who has suffered greatly, and I have earned the respect of the people here who know that I was good and loyal to a dying man. I will not take another husband; I am afraid that the spirits have put something in me that might make any such brave man die. Cougar-in-the-Night desires no wife, so we are friends. Your husband is my friend as well."
Friend, Skylar thought. Did the woman sleep with all her friends? Jealousy stabbed her, but she realized that she liked and admired Earth Woman just as it seemed the Sioux of Crazy Horse's camp and their Cheyenne allies did. Earth Woman was a female living in a male-dominated society who had created her own place within it. She was definitely a renegade in her way, not at all ashamed of her own sensuality in a place where chastity was as important among the women as ferocity in battle was among the men.
No Other Man Page 28
