Elaine Barbieri (10 page)

Miranda snapped back, “I’m not crying.”

Gently turning her face back toward his, Shadow Walker saw the tears rigidly withheld and said, “No, you are not.”

Standing, Shadow Walker walked toward the horses and disappeared from view before Miranda could prove him wrong.

CHAPTER NINE

Dawn crept across the night sky, sending a column of silver light into Rattling Blanket’s lodge. Stirring on her sleeping bench, Rattling Blanket did not immediately rise. With daylight came the need to bring living water up from the stream, but she was not thirsty, and there was no one in her lodge to drink but herself. She would soon need to cook in order to break the night fast, but she was not hungry, and without anyone to share the result of her labors, she had no incentive to begin.

Rattling Blanket unconsciously sighed. She was alone again. She had been widowed and had then lost her daughter. Much time had elapsed since then, but the ache within had not ceased. She had believed she had seen Dancing Star’s spirit flash in the eyes of the yellow-haired girl given to her by Shadow Walker, but she had suffered both criticism and disappointment for believing. Yet when Shadow Walker had returned to chastise the girl, and when Spotted Bear had then attempted to buy the girl from her for his own devious purposes, she had felt an emotion come to life that she had never expected to feel again.

Rattling Blanket raised a hand to eyes that were
suddenly moist. She sat up abruptly, startled by a sound outside her lodge. She was standing beside her sleeping bench when she heard a familiar voice.

With a bid to enter and a heart that was suddenly pounding, Rattling Blanket saw the flap lift to reveal Two Moons standing there.

Rattling Blanket caught her breath. Two Moons was old and bowed by the years, but the aged squaw was revered by many for her ability to read the sacred smoke.

Two Moons’s eyes were dark pinpoints of light in her wizened face when she said abruptly, “Last night the fire burned low in my lodge, and the fiery tongues whispered to me. They spoke of anger and unrest that would visit this camp.”

Regaining her voice, Rattling Blanket replied, “Why do you come here to tell me this?”

Two Moons responded, “When the tongues stilled, my mind was not at rest. I raised the fire again and showered it with fragrant herbs—and it was then that I saw her.”

“Her?”

“The yellow-haired one. I saw her sitting her horse in our camp, and I saw the white man’s horse soldiers all around her.”

“No, the girl is with Shadow Walker, far from this place.”

“I saw blood.” Two Moons shuddered. “I heard cries of pain.”

Rattling Blanket shook her head, vigorously rejecting the image the old woman drew, but Two Moons continued insistently, “I heard gunfire and I saw our people running and shouting. I saw Shadow Walker lying on the ground with—”

“No! I will hear no more!”

Closing the distance between them in a few quick steps, Two Moons placed her bony hand on Rattling Blanket’s arm and whispered, “It was a warning. The girl brings danger to our people.”

“Shadow Walker has taken the girl away because of her defiant ways, but he will bring her back respectful of the Cheyenne and all we wish to teach her.”

“I saw flames that would consume our lodges.”

“No.” Rattling Blanket countered adamantly, “You saw only a dream that means nothing.”

Remaining silent for long moments, Two Moons then whispered, “The warning has been given. I will speak of it no more.”

Silent as Two Moons walked out into the lightening dawn, Rattling Blanket then closed her eyes.

Trembling when the images Two Moons had drawn flashed again before her mind, Rattling Blanket struggled with all her strength to dismiss them.

The early-morning camp was silent. Miranda avoided Shadow Walker’s glance as they prepared for a new day on the trail, and Shadow Walker felt her discomfort. She had not slept well and had tossed and turned on her blanket through the night. He knew, because he had lain awake, conscious of her unrest.

Shadow Walker watched Miranda covertly as she moved around the camp. The strain of the previous day and her restless night were clearly visible. She was strangely pale underneath the sun-kissed color of her skin, and her light eyes were ringed with shadows. She struggled to hide her limping, but her pain was obvious. He knew they need travel longer before they reached their destination and he wondered if her strength would prevail.

You’re the enemy!

Yes, he was her enemy—because she willed it to be so. Yet his feelings had become strangely conflicted. His experience with women had not prepared him for the emotions this “Miranda” raised in him. She angered him, but anger and admiration were somehow intertwined. He had responded to her rebellion in the only way he could, but her resulting discomfort caused him regret. With her light coloring and stubborn defiance of him, she was the antithesis of the women of his tribe he had always admired, yet he was drawn to her in ways that stirred him deeply.

Miranda made no secret of her feelings. She pretended no love for the Cheyenne, and he knew escape was in her
heart. However, she would not escape. She was his captive. In that way—and in ways he did not yet fully comprehend—she was bound to him.

That thought firm, Shadow Walker readied his horse for the day’s journey, then turned toward Miranda where she stood uncertain.

Beside her in a few steps, Shadow Walker swung her up onto a waiting horse, then mounted his own and urged it into motion.

Daylight rapidly brightened as Spotted Bear nudged his mount to a faster pace. Up at dawn, he had scouted the rolling terrain, his heart quickening its beating when he discovered the remains of a recent campfire. Looking closer, he saw the signs for which he had been searching. Two horses, one unshod, and one with a curve to its hoof that clearly betrayed its identity.

Spotted Bear raised his gaze to the mountains in the distance. Shadow Walker and the girl traveled northward, to a place that Shadow Walker knew well. But what Shadow Walker did not know was that Spotted Bear followed him.

Spotted Bear’s lips curved in a hard smile. A surprise, then the moment when all would be settled at last.

The day grew hotter as the afternoon wore on. It drugged Miranda’s senses as she sat her mount, riding at
Shadow Walker’s side. She had not slept well, and the strain of the previous day remained. Weighing heavily on her mind was the realization that as she had tossed and turned through the night, it had not been hunger that had kept her sleepless. Instead, confusion had prohibited sleep.

Shadow Walker was her enemy. He had treated her cruelly, yet his touch had been gentle when he cared for her, and his gaze had held a heat she could not quite define. Strangely, she had believed him when he’d whispered that he had felt no joy in her discomfort. Those words had somehow touched a chord within her, and when she had arisen to the new day and felt his gaze following her, she had felt even more unsettled.

Miranda scrutinized the wilderness terrain through which they passed—sunswept, endless in scope, bounded only by mountains in the distance.

She was hot. She was tired. Her body ached and her head was throbbing. She wanted to go home to her father, to a place where she was safe from the conflicting emotions that taxed her remaining strength, and from the enigmatic warrior who was the cause of her turmoil.

What was this game he played? She needed to know.

Suddenly determined to receive an answer to her question, Miranda turned toward Shadow Walker. She broke the silence between them, asking abruptly, “Where are we going? I demand to know.”

His response a frown, Shadow Walker replied levelly,
“You travel over unfamiliar ground, the captive of a man you have named your enemy. Your feet are bare, your stomach is empty, your body thirsts, and you depend on this man to provide for your needs—yet you
demand
.”

“Is that why you brought me all this way, to intimidate me?”

“The truth is not intimidation.”

Miranda rasped, “Let me go home. Keeping me prisoner will cause more trouble for your people than any single captive can possibly be worth.”

Shadow Walker scrutinized her a moment longer. Nudging his mount closer, he reached out to touch her forehead and Miranda slapped away his hand.

With a swift movement of his powerful arm, Shadow Walker swept Miranda from her horse and settled her astride in front of him. Miranda felt his anger as he held her clearly captive and whispered against her ear, “Close your eyes and speak no more, but consider your rash actions carefully.”

Miranda closed her eyes, suddenly unable to do else. She was tired in mind and body, and Shadow Walker’s arms around her were unyielding.

Laundry in hand, Rattling Blanket made her way unsteadily down the trail to the stream. The afternoon sun was bright and hot. The camp had already quieted for the afternoon. The lodges were closed to outside activity while
most took their repose during the heat of the day.

Aware that an attempt to rest would be fruitless while the warning Two Moons had conveyed to her that morning occupied her thoughts, Rattling Blanket had chosen instead to use the time at the stream where she would be alone, and where her busy hands might lessen her anxiety.

… Blood, cries of pain … gunfire … people running and shouting … Shadow Walker lying on the ground …

And amid it all the yellow-haired girl.

Negotiating the steep trail, Rattling Blanket raised a hand to her head to wipe away the perspiration that her anxious thoughts had raised. She earnestly wished she were one of those who scoffed at Two Moons’s power, but she had lived too long and had seen too much to believe that the old squaw’s mind was faltering. The girl whose spirit so resembled Dancing Star’s had found a place in her heart. She still hoped that the time would come when—

The sandy soil of the path shifted unexpectedly beneath Rattling Blanket’s moccasins, interrupting her rambling thoughts. Her balance wavered. Uncertain of the exact moment when her feet slipped out from under her, Rattling Blanket went tumbling down the trail to a painful, jolting stop that ended in darkness.

Myriad emotions assaulted Shadow Walker as his mount moved steadily onward. He looked down at Miranda where she remained motionless in his arms. Her
outburst earlier had been unexpected. It had shattered hours of silent travel with a bitterness that he had believed had begun to lessen. He had reacted with spontaneous anger and had demonstrated to Miranda with one swoop of his arm that her demands had no value at all.

Shadow Walker felt the brush of Miranda’s bright hair underneath his chin, silently acknowledging that their brief harsh exchange had demonstrated something else as well—for as Miranda lay back against him in a semi-sleep, her back fitted to the curve of his chest, he knew that these days they had spent together had become more than a battle of wills. He knew that Miranda felt the strain of conflicting emotions as well as he, and the thought quickened the beating of his heart.

But she was stubborn and continued to challenge him. Her present silence was not in response to his command, but was a result of a physical need for sleep that even her fiery spirit could not deny.

His thoughts interrupted unexpectedly by the sound of a whinny in the distance, Shadow Walker turned tensely to survey the terrain behind him. His gaze stopped cold on a horseman rapidly approaching.

Uncertain of what had stirred her, Miranda opened her eyes to a sun that was rapidly dropping toward the horizon, and to the realization that after brave words and an angry exchange, she had fallen asleep in her captor’s arms.

Humiliation flushed her face before she realized that Shadow Walker’s stance had grown rigid. She glanced up at him, about to speak, but was halted by the chilling look in his eyes. She then realized that Shadow Walker’s attention had shifted to a horseman in the distance. Her breath caught in her throat when she recognized him.

Spotted Bear grunted with satisfaction as Shadow Walker turned his horse to face his approach. He pushed his mount to a faster pace with deadly fervor.