Elk Runner looked him up and down. Why was this crazy Indian staring at him like that? He nodded, then said, “When you ready, I will teach.”
“Teach me what?” Chase asked impatiently.
Elk Runner draped an arm around Chase’s shoulder, and walked off with him, leaving the others standing by the woodpile.
“You want live like mountain man? Need learn much things.”
Who the hell said he wanted to be a mountain man? Chase laughed. “I need to talk to Sarah’s mother, then I’m hoping to go home. I’m definitely not a mountain man.” If he were, he wouldn’t have gotten himself caught by those Blackfoot. Elk Runner’s eyebrows raised. “You know Dosa haiwi?”
“What’s that?” His own brows furrowed in confusion.
“Dosa haiwi….Imaah mother.”
Now he understood. It was someone’s name. “What is her white name?”
“Aimee Osborne.” The English name sounded strange with the stiff way he pronounced it.
“No, I don’t know her. I just need to talk to her. She might be able to help me get home.” Chase stared at the ground.
“Chase Russell no realize he already home.” Elk Runner placed his hand on Chase’s upper arm. He seemed genuinely sincere.
Chase laughed nervously. The man was insane. He didn’t belonged here anymore than Elk Runner belonged in twenty first century Los Angeles.
“Are you all just going to stand around talking all day?” Sarah’s impatient voice called from the cabin. All heads turned in her direction. Chase watched the way Hawk’s eyes fell on her. The man’s unreadable expression from a moment ago softened. Yeah, he was definitely in love with her. Anger and jealousy welled up inside him, and the urge to hit the guy surprised him.
“We were just on our way to the cabin,” Chase called, and headed towards her, hoping this conversation with Elk Runner was over.
“That smells really good,” Chase said, sniffing the air when he stepped through the door. Sarah had set out four plates around the table, each piled high with thick slices of golden-crusted pie. “When did you make that?”
“While you were busy chopping down that tree out by the woodpile,” Sarah grinned. “I have to warn you, my mother is quite fond of that tree. She told me once that it was just a sapling when she met my father.”
“I guess I’ll find something else to use for target practice then.”
The Indians filed into the cabin, and by the looks of things, they seemed familiar being here. They took their seats around the table. Hawk’s eyes followed Sarah, who had her back turned as she wiped crumbs off the workbench. Chase could tell he was trying to be discreet about it, the way he had his head lowered, but glanced upward in her direction.
“Aren’t you coming to sit down?” Chase noticed there was no place set for her.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I prefer to eat later.”
He wanted to argue with her, but then he’d only embarrass her again, so he let it go. Before he sat, he touched her between her shoulder blades, and ran his hand down to the small of her back. He let it linger for a moment. Her spine stiffened under his touch.
“Suit yourself, angel,” he said, and turned to take his seat at the table, gloating silently. He didn’t have to look at Hawk to know the man’s glare was murderous.
*******
Sarah busied herself cleaning invisible dirt off the workbench. If it had just been her uncle, she would have joined them at the table. But etiquette decreed that she not be in close proximity with Hawk Soaring. Everyone knew he had asked for her. She only needed to give her answer. If she sought out his company, it would appear as if she consented to the match. She needed to speak to her father.
The feel of Chase’s hand on her back still tingled. Why had he done that in front of everyone? He’d been polite the last few weeks. He hadn’t made any rude remarks, nor had he done anything inappropriate. Earlier, by the woodpile, his hand had rested on her arm. She was sure he meant to kiss her, but Grizzly had interrupted them, announcing his homecoming. What did it all mean?
Chase’s ways were so different from anyone else’s. Her emotions seemed to constantly wage war inside her lately. On the one hand, she was pleased by the changes in him. But then, she admitted shamefully, that she missed some of his remarks that made her face turn scarlet.
Chair legs scraped against the wooden floor. The men had eaten in silence, and the meal was apparently over. Sarah turned, intending to collect the plates off the table. Hawk Soaring stood before her.
“Imaah, I wish to speak with you.” She glanced into his brown eyes. Warmth and affection was directed at her. “Will you walk with me outside?” Her eyes darted to the other men in the room. Elk Runner spoke with his son, and the two men headed out the door. Chase hadn’t left the table. Her eyes held his longer than she should have, and she swallowed involuntarily. His expression was unreadable. She turned her attention back to Hawk and nodded. “Lead the way,” she said.
She followed him outside, and he headed for the riverbank, staying in plain view of her uncle and cousin. Hawk’s hands were clasped behind his back. Sarah caught up to walk beside him, but kept a respectable gap between them.
“What is on your mind, Kwyioo?” she asked, when he didn’t speak.
He stopped to face her. “This white man. He lives in your house?”
Sarah nodded. She knew where this was heading. It was best brought out into the open now.
“Have you taken him as your husband?”
“No, Kwyioo, I have not.” She concentrated her eyes on the grasses at her feet, rather than look at him.
“You are aware that I have spoken with your father.”
“I am aware. What did my father tell you when you saw him?” Sarah had to know. She stopped counting blades of grass to look at Hawk.
“He told me the decision would be yours to make. He would not speak for you.”
Sarah expelled the breath she’d been holding. Her arms and legs tingled in relief.
“Do you have an answer for me?” His expression told her he already knew the answer.
“Kwyioo, you and I have known each other since we were children. I have great affection for you, but not in the ways a woman has affection for a husband. I’m sorry.” Sarah reached out to touch his arm. She knew she’d hurt him, but his facial expression remained passive.
“Perhaps in time, you could learn to love me,” he said hopefully.
Sarah took a deep breath. “Will you give me more time to think on this?”
His face brightened in a smile. “As long as you need. And whatever decision you make, I will respect your wishes.”
“Thank you, Kwyioo. You are an honorable man.”
They walked in silence back towards Elk Runner and Touch the Cloud.
“We must be on our way,” Elk Runner said. “Your pie is as good as the ones your mother makes. I wish I could convince Little Bird to make this also.”
“If she did, you wouldn’t have an excuse to come visit so often,” Sarah laughed. “Goodbye, uncle. Until we meet again.” Sarah said her good byes to her cousin, and Hawk Soaring. His gaze lingered, and Sarah had the feeling that he wanted to say something, but then he abruptly turned and followed his companions.
“Remind Chase of what I have told him,” Elk Runner called over his shoulder. Sarah’s eyebrows furrowed. What had her uncle told Chase? Perhaps she’d ask him later. Her eyes darted around. Where was Chase?
The thought had barely occurred to her, when the door opened and he walked out. Their eyes met and held.
“Are they gone?” he asked. There was a definite edge to his voice.
“They wanted to get home before dark, I think,” Sarah answered, and skirted around him. “I’d best clean the dishes.”
Chase’s hand reached out, and held her arm, preventing her from walking past him. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“What did you and Hawk talk about?” Why did he look so angry again? Her own temper f
lared.
“I don’t believe it is any of your business what he and I discuss,” she answered, her words clipped.
“I can’t understand a word of what you say when you speak with them, Sarah.”
“The feeling is mutual, I’m sure. Elk Runner is the only one who speaks a little English. Touch the Cloud and Hawk Soaring do not. They could not understand when you and I spoke, but they certainly weren’t angry about it.”
“What did he say to you, Sarah?” Chase asked again, his voice strained. His grip on her arm tightened.
“He told me he’d spoken to my father. Then he asked if I had an answer for him.” Sarah refused to cower, and matched his heated stare.
“And did you give him an answer?”
“Yes, I did.” She pulled on her arm. “Now release me and let me pass.” She could see Chase’s jaw working. After a moment, he finally released her. Sarah rubbed at the sore spot on her arm, and headed for the cabin, slamming the door shut behind her. She leaned against it momentarily, her hand to her chest. What was that all about? He acted almost like….like what? A jealous suitor? She had no experience with that. And why would he be jealous? Not once had he said that he intended to speak to her father.
She inhaled deeply, then pushed herself away from the door, and collected the tin plates and forks off the table. She tossed them into the wooden bucket, and grabbed for the rope handle. She was about to head back out the door to the river, when Chase barged in.
“Where’s your rifle?” He sounded urgent, his eyes darting around the room. “And grab your bow and arrows, too.”
Sarah didn’t move. “Why?”
“There’s a bunch of Indians on horses coming this way. I’m going to be prepared this time.”
Sarah walked to the window, peering out. From the east, she counted seven riders, their long black hair blowing in the breeze.
“They’re not Blackfoot,” she said calmly.
“How do you know?”
“For one, they come from the east. The Blackfoot live to the south, remember? And their hair is much longer than the Blackfoot keep theirs. The men out there are Absarokas…Crow. The only thing you need to worry about with them is that they don’t steal your belongings. They are notorious thieves.”
Sarah calmly walked to the door, and stepped outside. She could understand Chase’s apprehension. After what he had to endure, his hatred for the Blackfoot was valid. He hadn’t spoken directly about his ordeal, and she suddenly realized that she hadn’t asked him, either. She hoped he would see that not all Indians behaved in the same way as the Blackfoot. They made war with almost every other tribe they encountered. It was part of their culture. What a shame it would be if he now felt hatred towards all the other tribes who lived in peace.
She held up a hand in greeting when the group of warriors pulled their horses up in front of the cabin. One man threw his leg over his mount’s neck and leaped lightly from its back. Without hesitation, he walked up to her.
“We have come for the man with the scorpion on his chest.”
Chapter 23
Sarah caught herself from letting her mouth drop open.
“Why do you believe to find such a man here?” she asked, hiding her surprise at the warrior’s request, spoken in English. There had been no greeting. Her eyes darted briefly to the rifle in his hand. His forehead was painted red. This wasn’t a raiding party, was it? Had she been too careless in her assumption that these men meant no harm? The Crow had never given her family any problems.
“Word travels quickly through the mountains. We bring gifts to the man who made old women out of young Blackfoot warriors. Such a man deserves our praise and honor.”
Sarah felt Chase’s presence behind her. The skin on her neck tingled inexplicable, and the air was suddenly warmer. She suppressed a gasp when his hand rested at her waist. He gently moved her aside and put himself between her and the Crow, holding her rifle in front of him. What was he doing? He didn’t even know how to shoot.
“What do you want from me?” Chase stared at the shorter man in front of him.
The warrior appraised him boldly from head to foot, and a slow smile formed on his face. “You are the man who made fools of our enemies?”
“If you’re referring to me running for my life, then yeah, I did that.” There was no boastfulness in Chase’s tone, only disdain and a hint of anger.
The six Indians still on horseback murmured, and nodded their heads in approval. The warrior standing in front of Chase smiled brightly. He reached his hand out to him. Chase hesitantly shook it.
“You come and travel with us to our village. We will sing praise, and honor you as a great warrior among our people. Your victory will be remembered in our lodges.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not looking for praise and honor. I ran to save my life, not to give you guys something to gloat about.”
“You are a humble man. That is good. You refuse to travel to our village. So be it.” The warrior sliced his hand through the air in front of him. “We will hold a feast in your honor here, and tell our families that we have met you.”
Sarah quickly put her hand on Chase’s arm before he said anything more to the Crow. If he declined their offer, he would insult them. He turned to her, his eyebrows raised in a silent question.
“Allow them to do this for you, Chase.” She hoped he would understand.
“Alright,” he said, turning back to the Crow. “Why not?” he shrugged.
“We bring meat and, what the white trappers call awerdenty.” He smiled broadly.
Sarah inhaled sharply. She hadn’t expected that. Chase had to accept their offer. It would be a great insult to them if he didn’t. But why did they have to bring whiskey?
“Your woman will cook the meat.” She barely heard the Crow’s words. Her mind was still wrapped around the fact that these men would be drinking alcohol, and no doubt consume enough to alter their minds and judgment.
“No, she won’t.” Chase said firmly. Turning to her, he reached for her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Sarah, stay in the cabin. My, ah… guests and I will be out here. We can roast whatever meat they brought in the fire pit.”
“Chase, do you know what awerdenty is?” she asked hesitantly.
“Not a clue, angel. Some kind of disgusting meat, like coyote?’ He grinned at her.
“No. It’s…alcohol.”
His eyes twitched in the corners, but there was no other reaction from him. His facial expression didn’t give away his thoughts. He slowly released her hand. Handing her the rifle, he turned and walked away with the Crow warrior, leaving her standing by the door.
The rest of the men dismounted their horses, and followed him to the fire pit, which was dug into the earth near the small cabin. Sarah watched them quickly build a large fire, and huge slabs of meat soon sizzled over the flames. She headed into the cabin, bolting the door behind her. Perhaps they hadn’t brought enough liquor with them to make them all drunk. She could only hope.
*****
Sarah sat at the table, her head cradled between her hands. The sun was slowly sinking into the western horizon, throwing the interior of the cabin into darkness. The flickering lights from the enormous fire in the yard cast large moving shadows on the walls. Sarah refrained from lighting a lantern. She didn’t want to draw attention to the cabin. She had occupied her time reading The Last of the Mohicans, a book she had read on more than one occasion. The pages of the leather-bound edition were well-worn. Although she enjoyed the story each time she read it, she had found it difficult to concentrate this time.
The men’s boisterous laughter had grown louder as the afternoon wore on. Chase’s jovial voice reached her ears, and she wanted to cry. How much longer would they carry on out there? The liquor had to have run dry by now. Sarah’s glance fell to her dog, sleeping contently near the hearth, his muzzle twitching occasionally. Sarah wondered what dogs dreamt about. She wished she could find the kind of peace that her furry frien
d enjoyed.
She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of gunshot. Even Grizzly raised his head, a quiet growl coming from deep in his throat. Anger welled up inside her. This was her home! She should have sent Chase to go with the Crow to their village. Let them shoot each other there. She left the table, stretching her stiff back, and peered out the window.
Several warriors danced around the fire, kicking their legs in the air, and flaying their arms about wildly. With those clearly exaggerated movements, it wouldn’t surprise her if one of them fell in the flames. Chase sat on the ground with the warrior who was clearly the leader of the group, the man who had first approached her about Chase. They were both talking animatedly, laughing at whatever the other said. They held water bags in their hands, as did each of the other warriors. Sarah knew it wasn’t water they were drinking.
She turned away, disgusted by what she saw. Tears stung her eyes. She wiped them away impatiently, and paced the cabin with her arms wrapped around her middle. She thought he had changed. In his fevered state, he had apologized to the woman he loved about his drinking. Sarah had never brought it up to him. Apparently those had been the words of a sick man. Now that he was well again, he no longer had feelings of remorse. The first opportunity to drink had presented itself, and he was obviously taking full advantage of it.
The sound of several more gunshots resonated through the cabin. Enough’s enough! Go out there and give them a piece of your mind. Sarah grabbed for her own rifle, and unbolted the door. Grizzly sprang up from his sleeping place.
“You stay here.” She held up her hand to signal the dog to sit. I might get shot. Mentally, she counted how many gunshots she’d heard. It had to have been at least five, if not six. These men were too inebriated to reload their weapons. She felt reasonably safe to go out there and not get hit by a bullet.
Slowly, she opened the cabin door. The rowdy noise grew louder. Sarah squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and marched towards the fire pit, her hands firmly gripping her rifle. No one seemed to take notice of her when she approached.
Yellowstone Redemption Page 18
