Her Cheyenne Warrior (Harlequin Historical)

by Lauri Robinson

  Elliot stopped the wagon near the center of the buildings and quickly climbed down. He spun around when he hit the ground and held up both hands to help her down. His brother was on the other side of the wagon, helping Betty down.

  Lorna waited until her feet touched the ground before asking, “Why do these army men think I am your niece? Why would you have told them that?”

  His confused gazed lingered on her for a moment before he glanced across the wagon. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “I didn’t have a chance,” William said. “I told you, as soon as I gave her money for a hotel, she disappeared.”

  Lorna’s stomach gurgled. “Tell me what?”

  “Let’s go inside, dear,” Elliot said. “Get out of this heat.”

  “No, I don’t mind the heat,” she answered, planting her feet firmly in the ground. “What didn’t William tell me?”

  Elliot laid his hands on her shoulders. “William and I are your uncles. Your mother’s brothers.”

  She shook her head. “My mother doesn’t have any family.”

  “Not Regina,” Elliot said. “She is your stepmother. Arleta, our sister, was your real mother.”

  Things seemed to spin before her eyes, making Lorna blink long and slowly. “Real mother?”

  “Yes,” Elliot said. “Let’s go inside and I’ll explain everything.”

  Lorna wanted to agree, but even with her thoughts spinning, she had others to think of first. “My friends and warriors—”

  “Will be seen to.” Elliot turned to the captain. “All of my niece’s friends are to be given the best quarters possible, Captain. I will check myself once I’ve spoken with my niece privately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once again, Elliot’s authoritative nature seemed to take rank even over the captain. How he did that reminded her of Black Horse. No brute force or weapons were needed. Confidence alone said he expected others to listen. Weeks ago she would not have recognized that, or respected it. She did now, and walked to the door William held open.

  As he closed the door behind them, William asked, “Would you like me to request a pot of tea, my dear?”

  Lorna shook her head. “No, thank you.” Glancing from William to Elliot, her mind went to the idea of them being her uncles. “I don’t understand. I—”

  “Sit down, my dear,” Elliot said, guiding her toward a grouping of chairs. “I can imagine what a shock this is to you.”

  Lorna sat, gratefully, her knees about to give out. There were so many questions revolving around in her head she didn’t know where to start.

  “Your mother, my sister and William’s,” Elliot said while waving the other man closer, “died shortly after you were born. Your father was beside himself. He and Arleta were more in love than any two people ever could have been.”

  “That’s the truth, Lorna. Those two had been in love from the time they were little.” William added. “I’d have told you all about it if you’d stayed in New York like I thought you would.”

  Not sure how to respond, she stuttered, “I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

  “I—we—understand, dear,” Elliot said. “William was a stranger to you. We tried to see you many times over the years, but Regina wouldn’t allow it. You see, after your mother died, your father was so sad, he truly didn’t know what he was doing. Within months, he married Regina and moved to England. He made us promise we’d never tell you the truth, that Regina wasn’t your mother.”

  “Why?”

  “I think he wanted to forget himself. Hoped maybe that would take away the pain,” Elliot answered. “That’s what I surmised over the years anyway.” He took her hands. “We loved him like a brother, and wanted to see him happy, so decided if Regina and moving away would do that, we wouldn’t interfere. We kept in contact with letters, and when his letters stopped, I traveled to England to investigate. He wasn’t himself, barely half the man I remembered him to be, but was still insistent that you shouldn’t know the truth. I continued to abide by that, until a couple of years later, when I heard he’d died.”

  The sadness of both men couldn’t be denied, and a vague memory of a man from America visiting when she was very small led her to believe they were telling the truth.

  “Regina said if we sent her money, she’d allow us to see you, but when we arrived, you weren’t there,” William said. “She’d sent you to friends in the country for the summer months. We tried, but couldn’t find you.”

  Lorna remembered staying for months on end with one of Douglas’s offshoot cousins—an old woman who never took a bath—and how sometimes, despite the smelly woman and the lack of welcome in her home, she hadn’t wanted to return to London.

  “I’m assuming Regina never gave you any of the letters we mailed to you?”

  She shook her head in response to Elliot’s question.

  “We figured as much, which is why I was so shocked when you showed up at my office,” William said. “I wasn’t even sure if it was you, or someone Regina sent over to fool us. At least, not until I got home that evening and pulled out a picture of your mother. Your hair had been covered with a hat that day, but now, with it hanging down, I see you are the spitting image of your mother. Your real mother, Arleta.”

  “I am?” Lorna shook her head at the delight filling her. There were other questions she should be asking. They could be lying to her. Although she couldn’t fathom why. “Why are you here?” Addressing Elliot she added, “Why didn’t you wait until I got to California?”

  “William wired me as soon as you left his office, and then again after looking at Arleta’s picture, which you do greatly resemble. I bought passage on the first stage heading east, but as he was unable to contact me, it wasn’t until my arrival that William informed me you’d left New York. We tracked the train to Missouri, and the wagon train.” His sigh lingered in the air as he said, “We arrived in the town where your friend had been doctored only days after you’d left. A short time later, your trail dried up.”

  “We came here to engage the help of the army, and found your friend, Jacob Lerber.”

  “He’s not my friend,” Lorna said. “He’s evil. You can’t believe a word he says.”

  “He told us it had been his suggestion that you all dress as nuns, to keep yourselves safer as you traveled,” William said.

  “No, he didn’t. Meg came up with that idea before we left Missouri. We gave Betty and Tillie our extra dresses after we left the wagon train. And it was all because of men like Lerber.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, dear,” Elliot said. “I have misgivings about that man.”

  “As you should,” she said.

  The two men shared a glance that was weighted and caused a shiver to ripple her spine.

  “How well do you know Jacob?” William asked.

  “Well enough not to like or trust him,” she answered. “We were on the same wagon train that left Missouri.” The shiver increased. “Why?”

  After sharing another subjective glance with his brother, Elliot leaned back in his chair. “We have reason to believe Jacob was hired by your stepparents to make sure you arrived in California.”

  Startled, and confused, she shook her head. “Hired by— Why?”

  “To make sure you claimed your inheritance,” Elliot answered.

  “They couldn’t claim it as theirs if you hadn’t claimed it first,” William said. “That is our theory.”

  Her mind was twisting again. “But once I claim it, it’s mine.”

  “Everyone believes Regina is your mother, so she could claim all you own upon your death,” William said.

  A chill rippled down her spine, yet she wasn’t startled. Since running away she’d been looking over her shoulder, fearful Douglas would find her. This confirmed why, and why the only place she’d ever felt safe had been with Black Horse and his people.

  Elliot patted her hand. “Don’t worry, dear. We are here, and we won’t let anything happen to you.”

&n
bsp; The inability to trust reared inside her. “Why? Why would you have trailed me so far? Why—”

  “Because we love you,” William said. “We’ve waited so long to see you again.”

  The expression on his face, half disbelief, half bliss, startled her as deeply as his statement. “But you don’t even know me.” Her thoughts shifted again. “And if I never claimed my inheritance, it would be yours, wouldn’t it?”

  “We understand, imagining the sort of life you must have lived with Regina and Douglas, that you find it strange, but the only reason we are here is because we love you. We have since the day you were born, Lori,” Elliot said. “You are our niece. Our family.”

  Her father had been the only one to call her Lori, and hearing it brought back memories, and the sting of tears. If she hadn’t believed these two men, these two virtual strangers, were her uncles, her true family, before, she did now. “I didn’t know you existed,” she whispered.

  Elliot squeezed her hands. “You do now.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering how different things might have been if she had known. If her father had told her. If— There were so many ifs tumbling in her mind she had to stop them, and she opened her eyes and said to William, “You offered to let me stay with you before you knew who I was for sure.”

  “I hoped it was truly you,” he said. “I hoped with all my heart, but I saw the misgiving in your eyes, the mistrust of my reason for offering to let you stay with me, and knowing Regina, I could understand why. So I gave you the money for a hotel instead.” His grin was a bit sheepish. “I didn’t expect you to leave town.”

  Rather than telling him the cost of the hotel he’d suggested had been beyond outrageous, she said, “I used it for the train. The money my father had left me was running low. I used the rest for the supplies and our wagon.” Turning toward Elliot, she added, “His letter only mentioned you.”

  “There is no reason to explain, dear,” Elliot said. “We are glad you are safe and sound.”

  “That we are,” William said, grinning. “Now you just have to decide if you want to go to California with Elliot or return to New York with me.”

  “That is not a choice she needs to make right now,” Elliot said.

  Nodding, William agreed, “I know. My wife, Stella, is so sorry she missed meeting you and is hoping you’ll return to stay with us.”

  “As is my wife, Katherine,” Elliot said. “She wanted to travel to New York with me, but settled for preparing a bedroom for when you finally arrive in California.”

  Once again Lorna’s thoughts spun. It was as if these two men were fighting over her. “I don’t know—”

  “Of course you don’t,” William interrupted while patting her hand. “This must all be such a shock for you. We are just so excited to have found you.” He bowed his head slightly as if ashamed. “I was fearful my actions had alienated you from us forever.”

  Once again taken aback, she asked, “Actions? What actions?”

  His sigh lingered in the air before he said, “Over a year ago, Regina sent a letter demanding money for your dowry. Considering her past antics, I didn’t trust that Regina would have found you a suitable man to marry. After asking an associate in England to investigate the man you were to marry, and his family, and learning they were known to be involved in some quite unscrupulous activities, I informed Regina there would be no dowry. I also had the Wainwright family informed that unless they could prove their son truly loved you, there would be no dowry.”

  Patting her hand, he said, “I’d hoped if he truly loved you, and you him, the dowry wouldn’t matter. If I broke your heart in that matter, my dear, I must beg your forgiveness. Both Elliot and I will do everything in our power to reconnect you and that young man, if that is your wish.”

  Lorna glanced from one man to the other. Their faces held such sincerity a knot formed in her stomach. She shook her head. “I never loved Andrew. Never wanted to marry him.”

  “That is such a relief to hear,” William said. “His family is truly not one you would want to be associated with.”

  “Lori, my dear,” Elliot said, once again taking her hand. “Please believe us when we say we have always had your best interests at heart. Not because you are a very wealthy woman, but because we love you dearly.”

  A tingling had her throat tightening. She needed time to process all this. Get used to the idea that she had family. People who had traveled mile upon mile to find her, all because they loved her. Cared about her, and who she associated with.

  Her throat grew even tighter. “I think I’d like that tea now,” she whispered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As soon as the horizon had swallowed Poeso, Black Horse ordered a hunting party to follow him in the opposite direction. Traditionally a celebration was held the night before journeying to the trading post. There would be much dancing and singing, and gifts offered to Maheo for the plentiful hides they’d acquired to be traded with the white man. Though his heart was not in it, he must ensure it happened for his people. This day, unlike ever before, being a leader of his people was not in his heart.

  He thought of the Tribal Council, and how he’d ordered they wait until the white man’s war was over to speak again of battles. Many would agree with his wish if he called them together now and declared an attack. They would be glad his mind had changed.

  His heart may have changed, but his mind had not. He could not declare an attack because the woman he loved had chosen to go with the white man.

  As his eyes scanned the land for deer and elk for the celebration, his mind was held captive by Poeso. He did not want to put his trust in the army men to keep her safe from Jacob Lerber. He worried, too, about the man Elliot Chadwick. What if this man left, taking her to California before tomorrow? Tracking them would be easy, but there would be no reason to follow. She wanted to go and get her much money. Just like Poeso did not understand his world, he did not understand hers, and unlike her, he was not able to accept some things.

  The hill before him was steep, and Black Horse let Horse choose the speed at which they climbed. A buck leaped out of the woods and without thought, Black Horse loaded his bow and shot. He then waved a young boy to join him. This was the boy’s first hunt, and Black Horse directed the boy to bleed the deer—a skill that must be mastered before the boy would be allowed to hunt like a man.

  The young brave had been taught well and had the carcass ready to be hauled back to the village in a short time. Black Horse praised the boy. Others laughed when the brave declared he’d soon be as good a hunter as Black Horse.

  Black Horse handed his bow and an arrow to the boy and pointed to a tree. His bow was very powerful and many wagers had been placed and won against other bands that no one but he was strong enough to bend it.

  After several tries, the boy handed the bow back, stating he would start with a smaller one. While others laughed, Black Horse gifted the brave the arrow that had killed the buck, and then swung onto Horse’s back. Several more deer would be needed for the celebration.

  A short distance up the hill, he spotted another buck. Too far away for his arrow, Black Horse urged Horse into a chase.

  They topped the hill and Horse stopped, puffing and snorting. The buck was nowhere in sight. Black Horse scanned the area again. He had not lost a chase in many moons.

  The white tail of the buck caught the corner of his eye at the same time a faraway squeal of a horse echoed. Horse heard it, too, and lifted his head to sniff the air. Black Horse waved for the hunting party to follow the buck while he went in the direction of the squeal. Far below in a box canyon was a small herd of horses, he couldn’t make out much more than that, but another squeal made Horse snort and stomp.

  It was not the time of year to gather horses. Well fed by summer grass, only the old and lame wild horses could be overtaken by a horse with a warrior on its back, whereas during the time of melting snow, wild horses were skinny and tired easy. Cheyenne ponies never
did. They were well fed year-round.

  Scanning for a trail that would take them down the hill, Black Horse steered Horse toward an area that wasn’t too steep. He would not capture horses, but wanted to check if one was injured. Halfway down, the entrance to the canyon became hidden and he used his instincts to direct their way. It was slow going, and once at the base, he searched to find a narrow opening between the rocky outcropping and high cliffs to take them into the canyon.

  Once past the rocky entrance, softer sand displayed hoofprints, and a short distance later, the trail opened into the canyon full of thick sagebrush. He continued following the hoofprints, looking for indentions in the grass when the sand completely disappeared.

  The squeal that sounded again said he was closer, and he held Horse back while watching for any movement. Something had a horse scared or cornered. It could be wolves or mountain lions, and he had no desire to be ambushed by either. It could also be another horse. There was a hierarchy in herds, and plenty of fighting.

  As they rounded a large patch of bushes, most of the herd came into view. Upon seeing him, they backed away. He entered the clearing and scanned the area. When his gaze landed on a single horse, his heart jolted.

  A brown horse, with a mane of tangled curls, stood near a pile of rocks. Unlike the others, upon seeing him, it didn’t run, but let out a loud squeal.

  Cautious of his surrounding, Black Horse climbed off Horse and moved closer on foot.

  Whispering soft words, he spoke to the animal. It tossed its head and nickered. When he was almost within arm’s reach of the mare, he saw one of its back legs was wedged between two rocks. He also noticed the horse’s mane wasn’t a mass of curls, but only appeared that way because it was full of burrs.

  Still whispering, he walked close enough to lay a hand on the mare’s neck. She snorted but didn’t pull away. While leaning down to examine the rocks, he absently pulled a few burrs out of the horse’s mane.

  “I will help you,” he said quietly while kneeling down to run a hand over the mare’s hind legs. There was no swelling, which gave him hope the leg wasn’t injured but simply stuck. It appeared as if the top rock had slid across the bottom one, trapping the leg, and Black Horse glanced around looking for a branch for leverage. The rock was too large to just push aside.