Wolf Shadow (20 page)

Heart heavy with disappointment, she was about to turn away
when a rider wearing a long black coat and a black hat emerged from around a
bend in the trail.

Winter Rain felt a shiver of excitement course through her.
Though he was still too far away for her to see his face, her heart recognized
him at once. Wolf Shadow had come back, just as Kills-Like-a-Hawk promised.
Happiness blossomed inside her. He was here, at last!

She frowned when she saw two other riders, a man and a
woman, riding in Wolf Shadow’s wake.

It couldn’t be. She blinked at them and blinked again as
they drew nearer. Could it be? Unable to believe her eyes, she moved further
down the trail, her gaze riveted on the woman’s face. She was beautiful, so
beautiful.

“Mama?”

Winter Rain stood there, frozen, as the trio rode up the
trail to where she waited, her heart pounding with trepidation.

What should she say? What would her…her parents think when
they saw her? Would they be disappointed?

And, then, too soon, they were there.

Wolf Shadow drew his horse to a halt and her parents stopped
behind him.

Leaning forward in the saddle, her mother started to say
something to Wolf Shadow when she saw Winter Rain standing on the side of the
trail. She stared at Winter Rain for several moments, and then Rosalia was off
her horse and running toward Winter Rain, her arms outstretched, tears welling
in her eyes.

“Teressa!
Mia bambina! Dio Di Elogio!
”

Edward Bryant climbed out of the saddle and hurried after
his wife. “Teressa! Is it really you?”

And then she was swallowed up in her parents’ arms as they
hugged her and kissed her, both of them murmuring her name over and over again.

Tears filled Winter Rain’s eyes as the warmth of her
parents’ love surrounded her. Any doubts she’d had were swept away by a rush of
memories—memories of her mother tucking her into bed at night, brushing her
hair, reading to her, teaching her to do needlepoint; memories of her father
taking her to the zoo, holding her hand as they crossed the street, teaching
her to ride her first pony, listening to her prayers. How could she ever have
forgotten them?

Chance leaned forward in the saddle, his arms crossed on the
horn, watching the reunion. He felt a tug in the region of his heart as he
watched Winter Rain embrace her mother. He would have given up the ranch and
everything else he held dear to be able to hold his own mother one more time.
Grief rose up within him and with it a fresh wave of determination to avenge
her death.

It took him a minute to realize Winter Rain and her parents
were looking up at him expectantly.

He cleared his throat. “Did you say something, Rain?”

“I asked if you would give me a ride back to camp?”

“Sure.”

Reaching down, he took hold of her upper arm and lifted her
up in front of him. He waited for Rosalia and Edward to mount their horses,
then clucked to Smoke.

Winter Rain turned her head so she could see Wolf Shadow’s
face. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You wouldn’t go to them,” Chance said with a negligent
shrug. “What else could I do?”

“I am grateful. It was kind of you to go to so much trouble
for us.”

He wondered briefly what Winter Rain would think if she knew
it hadn’t been kindness at all that prompted him to bring her parents here.

Riding down the trail toward the camp, he was all too aware
of the woman sitting in front of him. Her hair brushed against his cheek. Her
scent filled his nostrils, her softly rounded bottom fit snugly between his
thighs. He tried not to move, hoping she wouldn’t notice the effect her
nearness was having on him. When she shifted her weight in the saddle, he
almost groaned out loud. Damn!

Men and women stopped what they were doing as Chance and his
companions rode into view. Since white people were rarely seen among the
Lakota, Ed and Rosalia naturally drew a lot of curious looks, especially from
the children.

Kills-Like-a-Hawk stepped outside just as Chance drew rein
in front of his lodge. He looked up, his expression impassive as Chance lowered
Winter Rain to the ground. Rosalia dismounted quickly, obviously eager to be
near Winter Rain, and just as obviously unable to keep from touching the
daughter she hadn’t seen in ten years.

Edward Bryant dismounted with a low groan, one hand
massaging his thigh.

Chance caught Winter Rain’s gaze. “Why don’t you introduce
your folks to Kills-Like-a-Hawk,” he suggested. “I’ll look after the horses.”

Without giving her a chance to question him, he took up the
reins of the other two horses and rode toward the herd. There was no way he
could dismount now, not without everyone noticing his aroused state.

He was unsaddling Smoke when the filly trotted up him. With
a soft whinny, she rubbed her nose against his stomach. He spent a few minutes
stroking the filly’s neck and scratching her ears, then stripped the rigging
from the Bryants’ horses and turned them loose with the rest of the herd.

Taking a deep breath, Chance picked up the Bryants’ luggage
and headed back to the village. There had been some changes while he’d been
gone. The men had been busy hunting, as evidenced by the number of drying racks
he saw. Several of the brush huts had been replaced by hide lodges.

Rosalia turned to look at him as he approached, visibly
appalled by her surroundings. Her husband looked stunned. Winter Rain’s smile
looked forced as she told her parents that Kills-Like-a-Hawk had offered to let
them have his lodge during their visit; he and Chance would go and stay in the
lodge that had been set up for the single men.

“I…that is, I did not think we would stay here,” Rosalia
replied, glancing around uneasily.

Edward nodded. “I really need to get back to my business,
Tessa. I’ve been gone far too long as it is.”

Winter Rain looked at Wolf Shadow and he knew that, as happy
as she was to see her parents, she wasn’t quite ready to go back to
civilization.

“Mrs. Bryant, I think maybe Rain…Teressa…would like you to
meet her friends and get to know a little about the people she’s been living
with for so long. I think it might be a good idea. Might be good for all of
you.”

Chance looked at Bryant and grinned. “And you said you
wanted to go on a hunt.”

“Ah, yes,” Edward said. “I had forgotten that. Do you think
I can?”

“I’ll arrange it.”

“My dear, I think Mr. McCloud might be right.” Bryant smiled
at his daughter. “I don’t suppose another few days will matter one way or the
other.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

“I’ll just put this stuff inside,” Chance remarked, and
ducked into Kills-Like-a-Hawk’s lodge.

His cousin, who had gone inside to gather his belongings,
looked up as Chance entered.

“So,
tahunsa,
I see you found a way.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“No. If Winter Rain wishes to go with her
wasichu
parents,
I cannot stop her.”

“But you do not think she should go, or that I should take
her from here.”

“She has been one of us for many years. She will be missed.”

“I am sorry you do not approve,
tahunsa
.”

Kills-Like-a-Hawk regarded him through narrowed eyes, his
gaze seeming to penetrate into Chance’s very soul. “Are you happy with your
life, Wolf Shadow? Has revenge brought you that which you seek?”

“Do not worry about me, I am fine.”

“Are you?”

Chance ran a hand through his hair. “Dammit, do not talk to
me about revenge! Who is better at it than the Lakota?”

“Our People avenge their dead, yes, that is true. But it is
more than the taking of a man’s life that drives you. When you have killed the
last of the
wasichu
who wronged your mother, you will still be empty
inside. It is not the need for vengeance that consumes you. It is your own
guilt. You must learn to forgive yourself for what happened. Only then will you
find the peace you seek.”

Chance stared at his cousin for stretched seconds, then,
with a shake of his head, he turned and stalked out of the lodge.

Rosalia sat on a blanket inside the lodge that Teressa said
was her home. It was a crude circular dwelling, completely lacking in any
comforts other than a few furs and a few rustic cooking pots. There was no
furniture to speak of other than two backrests fashioned from wood and covered
with a hide. How had her daughter, who had spent her first formative years
surrounded by the best of everything, survived ten years in this harsh
environment?

Rosalia’s gaze moved over her daughter. Teressa had grown
into a lovely young woman. Her hair was thick and shiny, the same color as
Rosalia’s. Her skin was clear and unblemished. Her figure, though covered in a
shapeless deerskin tunic, seemed slender and well-rounded.

Rosalia felt another wave of regret for the years of her
daughter’s life that she had missed. She had missed the gangly years of
adolescence, hadn’t been there to watch Teressa blossom into the lovely woman
she had become.

And Teressa! She, too, had missed out on so much. They had
much to do when they returned home, and Teressa had much to learn, years of
schooling to catch up on. They would have to buy her a new wardrobe, introduce
her to society. No doubt living in the city would seem strange to her at first,
perhaps even a little frightening.

Rosalia forced a timid smile as the Indian woman known as
Corn Woman handed her a bowl and a spoon made of some kind of animal horn.
Rosalia took it hesitantly, wondering what the contents of the bowl might be.

She glanced at Edward, who was sitting beside her. One look
at his face told her he felt as out of place as she did, that he couldn’t wait
to take Teressa away from here.

Chance McCloud sat cross-legged on a fur on the other side
of the fire pit, looking all too at home as he accepted a bowl and spoon from
Teressa. Rosalia had not missed the way her daughter looked at Mr. McCloud, or
the way Mr. McCloud looked at her daughter. She did not want to dwell on what
might have happened between Teressa and McCloud. At any rate, whatever there
was between the two of them would end as soon as Teressa was safely home again.

Teressa sat down beside McCloud and began to eat. Rosalia
dipped her spoon into the bowl, took a deep breath, and swallowed a spoonful of
what she thought was beef stew. It definitely wasn’t beef, she concluded. The
meat had a strong gamy taste, the broth was thin. She thought it was flavored
with sage and onion. She ate it all because to put it aside would have been
impolite, and because she had no wish to hurt Teressa’s feelings.

Beside her, Edward murmured, “Good Lord, what is this?”

“It’s venison stew.”

Edward looked up, a flush spreading over his cheeks as he
met McCloud’s gaze. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “It is quite…ah…filling.”

“I am sorry you do not like it,” Teressa said.

“Did I say that, Tessa?” Edward asked quickly. “It is just…”
He cleared his throat again. “Just different from anything I have ever tasted.”

Chance grunted softly. That had to be the understatement of
the century. Emptying his bowl, he put it aside. “
Pilamaya
, Rain,” he
said, rising.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Nowhere, just outside.”

She watched him duck out of the lodge, wishing she dared go
with him.

“Teressa, dear?”

With a sigh, she turned back to her parents, but her heart
went outside with Wolf Shadow.

“Tessa?”

Winter Rain met her mother’s gaze, wondering what to call
her. For the last ten years, she had thought of Mountain Sage as her mother. It
seemed disloyal, somehow, to acknowledge another woman as her mother.

“Have you been happy here, with these people?” Rosalia
asked.

“Yes, very happy.”

“They were good to you, then?”

Winter Rain nodded. “Yes, always.”

“I am glad. At home, we read of terrible things in the
newspapers.”

“What kinds of terrible things?” Winter Rain asked
curiously.

“Atrocities,” her father said. “Indian attacks on settlers
and farmer. Men tortured and killed. Women and children taken captive and ra…”

“Eduardo!”

“What?” He glanced at Rosalia, and then noticed the shocked
expression on Teressa’s face. “Oh. Of course. Sorry.”

“The people who raised me were very kind,” Winter Rain said
defensively. “I always had food, even when it was scarce. I always had the
warmest blanket in winter.”

Her parents exchanged a look she could not fathom, and then,
apropos of nothing, her father asked, “And what of Mr. McCloud?”

* * * * *

Feeling the need for solitude, Chance walked away from the
village. Having spent considerable time with Winter Rain’s parents, he was more
aware than ever of the vast gulf between himself and the Bryant family. Edward
and Rosalia were cultured, wealthy people, accustomed to the best that money
could buy. They would want the same for Winter Rain. For Teressa, he amended.
And who could blame them? She was a sweet-natured, beautiful young woman, one
who deserved the best of everything. And the best thing he could do for her was
to get out of her life just as soon as possible. He would guide the Bryant
family back to Buffalo Springs and then stop off at the ranch for a week or so.
He’d check on the herd, see if the new bull had arrived, maybe look into buying
that land adjacent to the east pasture. Once he had made sure everything at the
ranch was running smoothly, he would sniff around and see what he could find
out about Jack Finch’s whereabouts.

He was about to go back to the camp when he realized he was
no longer alone.

“Mr. McCloud?”

He turned around and came face to face with Edward Bryant.