Her Cheyenne Warrior (Harlequin Historical)

by Lauri Robinson

  “He can’t claim her,” the yellow-haired man said after Crazy Hawk repeated his words in English. “He can’t claim any of them.”

  “I will not say that,” Crazy Hawk said in English. “This is Black Horse. All know of his skill with a bow and a knife. If he was Southern Cheyenne, you would already be dead. Me, too.”

  Black Horse kept his gaze on the yellow-haired man who swallowed and licked his lips. When the man said, “We come in peace,” Black Horse almost laughed. Only because he remembered when Poeso had said those same words. Then the idea of her leaving once again turned his insides dark.

  “Te-tell him we are only looking for one woman. Lorna Bradford. He can keep the others.”

  Long before Crazy Hawk translated the words, a shiver raced up Black Horse’s. Why would this soldier know Poeso’s name? And want only her?

  “Tell him her uncles, her family, are looking for her,” the yellow-haired man said. “They are at the fort. I must bring her to them.”

  Black Horse waited for Crazy Hawk to translate the words before he said, “You bring her uncles here.” Poeso never mentioned uncles, and he did not trust the foolish soldier’s words.

  When Crazy Hawk was done translating, the yellow-haired man shook his head. “I have been ordered to bring her to the fort, and that is what I must do. He has my word nothing will happen to her.”

  Black Horse grunted without waiting for Crazy Hawk to repeat what had been said. A white man’s word meant little to him.

  The jangle of harnessed horses and wagon wheels had Black Horse turning to glance behind him. Both wagons rolled closer. Poeso drove the first one, White Sister the second one. Each had a friend sitting beside them, all dressed in their black outfits.

  Black Horse clamped his teeth together, knowing what she would do, yet knowing he could not stop her. Not unless he captured her and tied her to his lodge pole again, which would start a battle with the soldiers.

  “We are who you are looking for,” Poeso said.

  The yellow-haired man took off his hat, and squinted. “Are you Lorna Bradford?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Sergeant Hudson, Miss Bradford. Your family has been looking for you. I’ve been sent to retrieve you.”

  Black Horse held his stance as his spine stiffened, and balled his hands into fists.

  Poeso glanced at him before she said, “I don’t have any family.”

  “Elliot and William Chadwick are not your uncles?” the sergeant asked.

  Keeping his tongue silent was difficult, but Black Horse was relieved to see the surprise in her eyes. She had mentioned those names. Elliot was the man from California, the one who held her much money.

  “They are not my uncles. But I do know them.”

  “Either way, we are here to take you back to the fort,” the man replied. “You can discuss your relationship with them there.”

  “They are at the fort?” she asked.

  Black Horse hissed at Crazy Hawk, who had climbed off his horse to stand close and repeat what was being said. With a frown, Crazy Hawk moved back to his horse.

  “Who told you where to find us?” Poeso asked.

  For the first time in his life, Black Horse felt inadequate. It was as if his hands were tied. Poeso would leave, and he could not stop it. If she was Cheyenne, he could tell her to get down from the wagon, to stay put until he said, but he could not do that to her. Nor could he argue with her in front of his people. She would not listen, and anyone who does not listen to the leader is shunned from their band. Right now, he didn’t like her stubbornness so much.

  “One of the men from the wagon train you got separated from said you were with the Cheyenne,” the sergeant answered.

  “We didn’t get separated,” Poeso said. “We left the train. To get away from Jacob Lerber. The Cheyenne rescued us from him.”

  “Nehetaa’e,” Black Horse said. He’d heard enough and would not be sending Poeso anywhere near Lerber. Speaking in Cheyenne, he told Crazy Hawk, “Tell the soldiers to leave.”

  Crazy Hawk glanced between the soldiers and him.

  A burst of fury raced through him. “Tell them,” Black Horse demanded.

  Crazy Hawk said nothing, but a dozen clicks filled the air. The soldiers had lifted their guns. All of them were pointed at him. Black Horse did not care. Sweet Medicine had long ago bestowed four arrows upon the Cheyenne. Upon him. Two for power over the buffalo, two for power over men.

  “Put your guns down,” Poeso shouted.

  “Miss Bradford,” the sergeant said, “I insist you come with us posthaste. We have come in peace and do not wish a confrontation, but we are not leaving without you.”

  “I know that,” she said harshly, before turning to look at him.

  Black Horse said nothing. These men and their guns did not frighten him.

  “I must go,” she said in Cheyenne. “They will kill you if I don’t.”

  “Hova’ahane,” he said.

  “Heehe’e,” she argued softly.

  There was great sadness in her eyes and Black Horse’s teeth were clenched so tight his jaw stung. She had said she would leave, and he had accepted that, until now.

  “Miss Bradford, you have my word that—”

  She hissed and turned toward the army man. “Considering I do not know you, Sergeant Hudson, your word means nothing to me.”

  “Ma’am, I am a member of the US Army, and—”

  “I only recently arrived in America, so your army means little to me, too,” she interrupted. “I will go with you, on one condition.”

  Black Horse bit his lips to keep from smiling. Her bravery never failed to amuse him. Her intelligence didn’t, either. She would insist he went with her, and that suited him just fine.

  The sergeant glanced around before asking, “And that is?”

  Her gaze met his again and Black Horse gave a nod, giving her permission to make her request.

  She bit her lips and closed her eyes before turning back to the sergeant. “That Stands Tall will come with us.”

  “Stands Tall?”

  Black Horse wasn’t sure who spoke first, him or the sergeant. Luckily the other man’s words covered his own outburst. He must remember to keep his knowledge of the white man’s language a secret.

  “Yes, Stands Tall,” she said, indicating the warrior with a wave of her hand. “He will accompany us.”

  Her eyes were on him again, and they were pleading with him to agree. Black Horse was still full of anger, of worry, but he understood her compromise. She was a wise woman. One who had not lied or tried to trick him. She had kept all promises, and he must, too.

  Half full of anger, and half full of frustration, Black Horse turned to face the soldiers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lorna wasn’t any happier about the situation than Black Horse, but was also fully aware of the rifles the army men carried. She’d watched Black Horse kill a buffalo with nothing but a knife, but buffalo didn’t have guns. Closing her eyes briefly, she willed him to understand she had to leave in order to keep everyone else safe.

  His back was to her as she whispered, “I will wait for you at the fort.” Her Cheyenne wasn’t the best, but he always seemed to grasp what she was attempting to say. “I will have Black Horse’s protection in Stands Tall.”

  He turned slowly.

  “You do not have your bow,” she said. “You are not prepared to fight.”

  For several long moments, Lorna feared he would not agree, and her insides quivered. She didn’t want to be responsible for a battle, for anyone to lose their life, but also knew she could say no more. He was a leader, and to argue with him would shun her from his band forever. That would be worse than death. She fully understood what a punishment shunning was.

  Just when she thought her heart would be broken, he shifted his stance and nodded at Stands Tall. He then gestured for three other warriors to accompany them, as well.

  Relief flooded her so swiftly tears stung her e
yes. She could tell how frustrating this was for Black Horse, and wanted to assure him all would be fine, but she couldn’t. The stirring of her stomach told her something bad was close at hand. She couldn’t let anything happen to the Cheyenne. Wouldn’t. Not to these people who had been so kind and loving when they didn’t have to be. She’d never imagined this would happen to her, that she’d care so much about others that she was willing to sacrifice herself for them. It wasn’t as if she was being led to her deathbed, but an inner sense told her that going to the fort would change everything. All she’d come to love.

  That, too, was unbelievable. She’d never known what love was. Perhaps that was how she recognized it now. The feelings she had for Black Horse went deeper and were stronger than any she’d ever had before. It couldn’t be anything but love.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she whispered, “Nestaevahosevoomatse.”

  He gave a slight nod and agreed that he would see her again soon, too. Stepping back, he waved for the warriors behind him to let the wagons pass.

  There were no long goodbyes. No farewell hugs or wishes of safe travels. It was just as well; the sad faces on the children who rushed forward to gather around the wagons as she drove one, and Meg the other, was heart wrenching enough. Parting words with Black Horse would only make things more difficult, so even though her eyes stung, she kept her head up and offered little more than a head nod as they rolled past him.

  Once the children departed, the militia broke into small groups, some riding in front of the wagons, the others behind. Stands Tall and the other warriors rode beside the wagons, one on each side. This was so different from any departure she’d had in the past and she struggled to keep her gaze fixed on the horizon rather than turn around for a final glimpse.

  With each turn of the wagon wheels, each bounce of the seat, the beauty she’d seen in the land seemed to fade. Once again, much like before coming to the village, she saw nothing but grassland, hills, and trees. There was no enchantment in any of it.

  The sun was hot, and the mules, already tired from their morning trek, were sluggish. Perhaps they, too, were sad to be leaving a life they’d become accustomed to. She thought of the heavy load the animals were pulling. The things packed and piled in the wagons. Things none of them had needed since entering the village. Betty had used some of the cooking utensils and supplies, but for the most part, everything they’d needed to sustain life had been provided by the Cheyenne. Along with other things she’d never known she’d needed. Things she’d lived her entire life without.

  Community. Friendship. Love.

  Her chest burned and she released the air, an act that left her feeling even more hollow.

  “Who are Elliot and William Chadwick?” Betty asked. “Are they your uncles?”

  With her focus on leaving, Lorna had forgotten the sergeant had mentioned the men. It had also slipped her mind that her friends still didn’t know her original mission. “They aren’t my uncles,” she said. “But I do know them—I met William in New York, and Elliot is the man I was to meet in California.”

  “Why are they here?”

  “I don’t know,” Lorna answered honestly.

  “I suppose you’ll be leaving with them,” Betty said.

  Lorna clamped her teeth together to keep from snapping that she’d do no such thing. She had no idea why the men were here, and couldn’t truthfully say what she would or wouldn’t do. What she wanted most was to turn the wagon around, but that would put Black Horse and the others in danger. She had no doubt the soldiers would make good on their threat.

  Her silence stopped any further questioning from Betty. Or maybe the other woman had just as many dreadful thoughts as she did.

  Because she felt no excitement about arriving, the travel to the fort seemed short. They’d barely started down the other side of the hill when a large wooden fortress appeared in the base of the valley. The tops of buildings peeked out above the tall fence, and as they rolled closer, men with guns could be seen stationed on platforms near the top of the stockade.

  Every detail made her heart sink deeper. Although Black Horse’s band was of a fair number, there were far more women and children than warriors. They wouldn’t stand a chance against the army men with their barricade and guns. It would be up to her to make sure the army understood the Cheyenne had done nothing wrong.

  “Do you think Jacob is still here?” Betty asked.

  “Yes.”

  “They won’t make us go with him, will they?”

  “No,” Lorna answered. “No one will be leaving with Lerber.”

  “But if you leave with—”

  “No one will be leaving with Lerber,” Lorna repeated forcefully.

  They were still a distance away when the two wide stockade gates swung open and more army men on horseback rode out. Sergeant Hudson spurred his horse and rode forward to meet them. He and the leader of the new group separated themselves and reined their horses to the side of the trail. Lorna couldn’t stop herself from staring. The second man had more yellow stripes on the shoulders of his uniform, and tipped his hat her way. Not here to make friends, she made no acknowledgment, but didn’t look away, either.

  Once the wagon rolled past she turned forward, and took a deep breath. The looming opening in the wooden walls looked like a huge mouth—wide open and ready to swallow them whole.

  The army men on horses in front of the wagon crossed the threshold, but others, with guns drawn, stepped around the walls, blocking Stands Tall and the warrior on the other side of the wagon.

  “Whoa up!” Lorna shouted to the mules while pulling on the reins and pressing the brake with one foot.

  “No Injuns can enter the fort,” one of the men said, “except on trading days.”

  “They are with us,” Lorna replied. “We won’t enter if they don’t.”

  “What’s the hold up, Corporal?”

  Lorna turned toward the men riding closer. The one who had ridden out to speak with Sergeant Hudson had asked the question, and it was to him the man on the ground answered.

  “Just telling them the Injuns gotta stay on this side of the wall, Captain.”

  “It was agreed these men could travel with us,” Lorna said. “If they can’t enter the fort, we won’t, either.”

  “Indians are not allowed inside the fort expect at specific times, Miss Bradford. You have my word you’ll be perfectly safe without them,” the captain said.

  “I’m not concerned about my safety,” she replied. “Because these warriors will remain with us at all times.”

  “That is not allowed, ma’am,” he said smartly. “Now release the brake and—”

  “What about him?” she asked, pointing at the Indian who had translated back at the village. “Is he allowed inside the fort?”

  “Crazy Hawk is a guide for the army and translator. He has special permission.”

  “Then, give my warriors special permission, too.”

  “That cannot be done.”

  “Why not?” The man’s face was turning red and his eyes narrowing. She’d seen a man sneer many times and wasn’t fazed by it. “They brought no lodges with them. Where do you expect them to stay out here? There’s no shelter, hardly any trees.”

  “Animals don’t need shelter,” one of the men on the ground muttered.

  Her anger was increasing steadily, and the glare she cast toward the man remained when she turned to the captain again. “I will not pass through that gate without these men.”

  “Miss Bradford—”

  The captain’s response was interrupted by someone shouting her given name. Lorna turned her attention to the opening in the stockade, but the man who appeared was a complete stranger. The one behind him holding a high-top black hat on his head she recognized from New York—William Chadwick. That meant the one repeating her name and rushing past the mules must be Elliot Chadwick.

  “Goodness, William told me you resembled Arleta, but I didn’t expect—” He stumbled sli
ghtly as he arrived at the side of the wagon. Much like his brother, there was more gray hair on his head than brown and his three-piece suit would have been much more suitable for New York or San Francisco than Wyoming. “Oh, child, are you all right? Were you harmed?”

  “Harmed? Of course I wasn’t harmed.”

  Elliot spun around. “Captain Walcott, what is the holdup? We need to get these women out of the sun.”

  “The holdup, sir, is your niece,” the captain replied rather rudely. “She refuses to enter the fort without her Injuns.”

  “Escorts,” Lorna snapped. She didn’t like how the men had sneered using the word Injun, and would not allow it to continue. That much she said with her glare.

  “Escorts?” Elliot asked, looking up at her with a frown.

  She nodded toward Stands Tall. “Stands Tall has been overseeing my safety since shortly after Jacob Lerber attempted to assault us at the river a few weeks ago. I go nowhere without him.”

  “I’ve informed her that Indians are not allowed inside the fort,” Captain Walcott said.

  Once again Elliot turned toward the captain. “I’m sure you can make an exception, Captain. General Hollister will approve. I guarantee it.” For an older man, Elliot was rather spry. With little effort, he climbed onto the wagon. “Slide over, child. I’ll drive the wagon in. You soldiers move aside.” He then turned to Stands Tall and gestured for him to follow. “This way.”

  Under most circumstances, Lorna would never have slid over, but Elliot Chadwick’s authoritative actions had caught her off guard. They seemed to have caught the captain that way, too, for he didn’t protest when Elliot drove the mules into the fort with Stands Tall and the other warrior right beside them. Meg’s wagon followed, along with the other two warriors.

  She hadn’t seen anything quite like what sat inside the fort. A small town of sorts, except that most of the buildings built along the back wall were attached. It was like one long line of houses connected to each other, sharing the same long porch.