Sarah's Heart (17 page)

He rose to a sitting
position. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I never would have said anything if you
hadn’t made such a fuss about me seeing you in
your
….”

“Forget it. How
about if I get out the food the good nuns packed for us and we’ll have an early
supper?”

“Great, I’m hungry.”
His heart quickened at her smile. She was without a doubt the prettiest woman
he’d ever seen, and the more time he spent with her, the harder it was for him
to ignore the attraction. The biscuit and bacon she handed him couldn’t silence
the gnawing hunger inside him, but he ate, wishing for a miracle to bridge the
difference between him and Sarah. He swallowed any hope of that happening along
with a bite of bread.

* * *

Wolf stared again
through the leafy canopy overhead, counting the stars in the heavens and
listening to the nighttime serenade of crickets and bullfrogs. Sarah’s soft
snores added to the music. He wished he could drift off and find peace in
slumber, but his thoughts dwelled on how to say goodbye to her when they
reached Independence.
There was no other way to end his misery. He couldn’t be content to have her as
a casual friend, and his kind of life wasn’t the type you asked someone to
share. If he had any idea how attached he’d become to her, he never would have
offered to bring her along. What he wanted more than anything else lay just a
few feet away but she may as well have been on the bright yellow moon above.

The land where he planned to build his house
was on the outskirts of town. Once he set Sarah up in the boarding house, he’d
make himself scarce and try to forget she existed. He muffled a chuckle. How
could he lie to himself like that? Trying to pretend she didn’t exist would be
like forgetting to breath. As much as he hated to admit it, he was in love with
her. She couldn’t know—not ever.

Sarah rolled over
and stretched. She’d been so exhausted she’d slept through the night with no
concern for the hardness of the ground. Wolf was already up and had a fire
going, and the smell of coffee wafted in the air. Father Brouchard had given
them a small stash from his own supply, and Sarah’s mouth watered at the aroma.

“Good morning,” she
called out to Wolf’s crouching form at the fire. “How’d you sleep?”

He poured himself a
steaming cup, replaced the pot, and sank to the ground, cross-legged. “Fine,
until I rolled over. I think I have some bruises inside that’ll take a lot
longer to heal.”

Sarah kicked her
blanket off, sat up and combed her fingers through her snarled locks. “Why
didn’t you tell me about your other injuries?”

“There was no need
to worry you. It isn’t the first time I‘ve been beaten and probably won’t be
the last.”

She shook her head
and frowned. “How can you be so casual about it? They could have killed you.”
Her voice rose in anger without willing it.

“But they didn’t.”
He put his cup down, poured a second one and stretched to hand it to her.

The freshly brewed
coffee stirred memories of her home and a father who loved his morning drink.
She’d already lost everyone in her life, and trembled at the thought of adding
Wolf to the list. She set the cup down and caught his gaze. “I can’t understand
the army’s reason for mistreating you. If people knew you like I do, they’d
realize what a good person you are. Have you really contended with things like
this your whole life?”

He looked skyward,
as if searching for an answer. “For as long as I can recollect. It wasn’t bad
when both my parents were alive and we traveled from town to town. Then, we
didn’t stay in one place long enough for hatred to become contagious. But, once
I took a Sioux name and struck out on my own, things got worse.”

“Then why did you?”

Serious eyes pierced
hers.
“Because it was time for me to leave!
I needed
to find my own place in life, but I’m still proud of my mother’s people. I
share their blood, too.”

His claim of
devotion touched Sarah’s heart, but raised another question. “But by your own
admission, they didn’t treat you any better than the whites. Why?”

He released a pent
up breath. “I can only guess that ties between the red and white men are so
strained, no one is willing to look past the part of me they hate. Sometimes I
think it would have been best if I’d never been born.”

 
Sarah sipped from her steaming cup and
pretended not to notice when he wiped away his eyes. How horrible for him to
never really feel at home anywhere. Surely, he must have
some
family
ties.

Provoked by niggling
curiosity, she leaned in closer. “I hope I’m not getting too personal, but you
mentioned your father, Charles Elder, was white. Grey Wolf is the name given
you after your vision quest, so what were you called before that?”

“I was named after
my grandfather, Nathaniel Elder, but when I joined the Sioux tribe, I left that
part of me behind. My father was gone, and my mother reclaimed her place in the
Indian nation. I had little choice but to learn to live among the people.”

“Nathaniel is nice.”
She played his whole name in her mind, attaching a ‘Mrs.’ to the beginning.
Then with a quick shake of her head, she scattered the silly schoolgirl notion.

“They called me
Nate, but I haven’t answered to that in a very long time. I prefer Wolf because
it’s who I am.”

He was right. Wolf
suited him better. He possessed the same stealth and heightened senses as his
namesake. Roaming free, with no encumbrances—there was no room in his life for
her, and she was foolish to believe differently—to hope. His kiss haunted her,
but had been nothing more than physical desire. He was a man, after all. She had
to protect her heart at all costs.

Unable to look upon
his handsome face without lusty thoughts, she began folding her bedding. “We’d
best get going.”

* * *

They rode alongside
one another, the synchronized clip-clop of hooves the only sound for the longest
time. Sarah, normally chattering away, had been silent since they broke camp.
Wolf studied her profile as she stared into the distance. “Did I do something
to make you angry?”

Her head snapped
around.
“No, of course not.
Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been
unusually quiet.”

She heaved a sigh.
“I ask too many questions sometimes. My mother always told me I was too nosy. I
thought perhaps you might like a break from my constant inquisitions.”

“I don’t mind,
really. It’s only natural to be curious, especially when we’ve spent so much
time together.”

Relief softened her
face.
“Truly?
I don’t mean to pry, you know.”

“I didn’t consider
that you were. Is there anything else you want to ask about my past? I’ve got
nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Has there ever
been…well…a special person of the female persuasion in your life?”

She wanted to bite
her tongue off for letting such a personal question spill out without thinking.
Besides being nosy, she was also impetuous, and that had caused her trouble
before—with Silas McCann. His ridiculous intimation that marriage was the only
way to salvage her homestead got her dander up. She’d made no bones about
telling the repulsive jackass just what she’d thought of him and his
underhanded proposal. The shocked look on his face remained etched in her mind.
And even though, in the end, he won—foreclosing on her father’s loan and taking
back the land and house—given the option, she’d do the same thing all over
again. She’d rather sleep outside in a tempest than share the banker’s bed.

Sarah watched Wolf
from the corner of her eye. Her question evidently caught him off guard, and he
fidgeted, adjusting his position on Scout’s back and splaying his fingers
through the mare’s mane. He sputtered out a nervous cough.
“A
special female?
No, not really. I was fond of one once. Dancing Doe was
her name, but we were very young. She died of the same fever that took my
mother.”

Sarah chewed her
bottom lip, listening intently. She felt ridiculously jealous.

“I’ve never been in
a position, “he continued, “to ask someone to share my life. I’ve drifted
around so much, and you saw where I took shelter when I needed it. You can’t
rightly ask a woman to share a cave, can you now?”

Remembering the low
ceiling and sandy floor of his special place, she chuckled. “I guess not. I
prefer somewhere that allows me to stand up straight.”

Her body grew tired
from the continual plopping of her bottom against the saddle, but his statement
about moving around piqued her interest. “You said you wanted to raise cattle.
Don’t you have to stay put to do that?”

“That’s the plan. If
everything works out, I hope to build a ranch on the land I told you about.
It’ll take some time, but I’ve got more of that than money. I’m going to be
busy, so I won’t have time for courting and all that nonsense.”

Sarah stiffened in
the saddle. He may as well have slapped her in the face with his truthfulness.
But at least she knew how he felt. He had no romantic interest in her. Why did
her stomach feel like someone slammed a fist into it?

She stifled a sigh.
No matter how hard, she’d stop fawning over him. There was no future in falling
for a man who couldn’t see love right in front of his face. She pushed words
through a lump in her throat. “You’re absolutely right. Why waste time on silly
romantic notions?”

She agreed far too
easily. Evidently his kiss hadn’t meant anything. Maybe it was for the best
that they part company. Still, being next to her every day and night and not
acting on his feelings hurt like hell. Looking into those beautiful eyes
tempted him to throw caution to the wind and beg her to help him build his
dream, but what if things didn’t work out with the bank loan? He’d have nothing
more than his disappointing life to offer her. The last thing she needed was to
witness any more hatred and hurt. Yep, separation was the answer. He’d have to
remain strong—hold her at arm’s length and ignore what his heart wanted.

“Wolf?” She
stretched her foot across and nudged him. “You drifted off. I asked if we could
stop. I need to relieve myself.”

“Sorry. I was just
thinking about my land,” he lied. He needed relief too, but not in the way she
did at the moment.

* * *

 
“There it is.” Wolf pointed toward dots on the
horizon, a big smile on his face.

“You mean it?”
Sarah’s heart pounded with excitement. “We’re finally here?” Her body ached for
a respite from days of riding. They had mutually decided to pick up the pace,
and now she was happy they had.

“Yep, that’s Independence.
Your new home.”

She let loose a
contented sigh. “It’s funny to be so happy to come back to where I started my
journey. I never expected when I left for California that this would end up being my
final destination. I can‘t wait to get off this horse…and stay off.”

Wolf urged Scout to
a trot and Sarah nudged Star to keep up. The specks grew before her eyes, as
structures, storefronts, horse-drawn carriages and buckboards came into view.
The rutted trail widened into the area where Mr. Simms had gathered the wagons,
then narrowed again to form the main street of Independence. A banner hung overhead,
announcing a picnic and horse race on the third Saturday of the month. Sarah
misted at the memory of her lost friends, but welcomed the excitement of her
trail’s end.

She and Wolf rode
into town side-by-side. People stopped on the elevated wooden walkways and
stared at them. Two women whispered behind gloved hands, then cast a
disapproving look at Sarah. She squirmed in the saddle, reaching up to push a
fallen tress of hair back up under her hat, envying the fashionable garb of the
gossiping pair. With less than ten dollars in her valise, it would take quite a
while for her to achieve a look like that. She never figured on longing for a
dress and feminine trappings.

“Rotten half-breed,”
a man called out from the swinging doors of the saloon. A bottle shattered in
the street just ahead. Star shied away and reared back while Sarah hung on for
dear life. Faces peered out from doorways and pressed against windows, not a
friendly one among them.

“We don’t need your
kind here. Take your whore and leave.”A portly man teetered on the sidewalk’s
edge, waving his fist in the air.

Sarah’s stomach
knotted. “What do we do?”

Wolf’s gaze remained
fixed straight ahead. “Just keep riding and ignore them.”

She swallowed the
lump in her throat. “Ignore them?”

He glanced at her,
his chin held high. “Words can’t hurt you. I learned that a long time ago. I’m
used to this. It happens every time I come to town. If I don’t engage in their
games, they usually leave me alone.” He flashed an apologetic look at her. “I
should have let you ride in alone. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”