Wolf Shadow (7 page)

Snow Wolf had come to visit them several times each year,
always bringing presents for his Indian wife and his son.

And then Summer Moon had been killed and Chance had gone to
live in his father’s world. It had not been easy, being a half-breed in the
wasichu
world. At first, the people of Buffalo Springs had looked at him with
suspicion, but they had gradually come to accept him. In time, he had learned a
new way of life, but he had never forgotten his vow to avenge his mother’s
death. He had learned to shoot, practicing with a Colt and a rifle until he
could use both with the same skill and accuracy that he enjoyed with bow and
lance. When he turned seventeen, he had gone in search of the remaining three
men who had violated and killed his mother. He had nothing to go on but their
names. Surprisingly, less than a month later he had found one of the men in a
saloon in a small town not far from the ranch.

He had followed the man until he got him alone, then called
him by name.

L.J. Weston had stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Who’s
there?”

Chance stepped out of the shadows. “Remember me?”

“No, should I?”

“You killed my mother four years ago.”

Remembrance and recognition flared in Weston’s eyes. “You!”

Chance nodded, his hand hovering over the butt of his gun.
“Make your play.”

Weston took a step backward. “I got no quarrel with you,” he
said, and even as he spoke the words, he was reaching for his gun, pulling it
from the leather.

Too late. Chance’s Colt was in his hand before Weston’s gun
cleared his holster.

Chance had stared down at Weston’s body while he punched the
spent cartridge from his gun but in his mind’s eye, it had been his mother’s
body he had seen.

He had found the next man in a fancy whorehouse in Kansas
City a year later. Chance wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Luther Hicks or
the woman he was with, when Chance burst into the room.

The woman had screamed and dived under the covers. Hicks had
stared at Chance for stretched seconds and then, as recognition dawned in his
eyes, Hicks had made a mad grab for the holstered gun hanging from the bedpost.

His gun had never cleared leather.

Chance was replacing his Colt’s spent cartridge when the
woman peeked out of the blankets. Her eyes went wide when she saw he was still
standing at the foot of the bed.

Chance had holstered his weapon, then withdrew a double
eagle from his pocket and tossed it at her. She had caught it deftly in one
hand, bit down on it, and smiled her thanks.

“Sorry about the mess,” he had said, and walked out of the
room.

Now, as he turned away from the river, he wished he could as
easily turn his back on the past.

Chapter Six

When Winter Rain woke the following morning, she wondered if
Strong Elk had already left for the land of the Crow. He was a brave warrior,
well respected among their People. She smiled inwardly. She knew he would
return with many horses to offer her father, perhaps as many as ten. And hard
on the heels of that thought she found herself wondering if Wolf Shadow would
come courting while Strong Elk was away.

Rising, she greeted her mother, who was preparing the
morning meal. It was one of Winter Rain’s favorites, gooseberry mush.

Mountain Sage nodded in return, her expression troubled.
“Strong Elk came by early this morning. He wished to see you before he left,
but you were still sleeping. He was displeased to find you with another warrior
last night.”

Winter Rain nodded. “I have told Wolf Shadow that I am to
marry Strong Elk, but…” She shrugged. “He does not seem to care. I did not mean
to upset Strong Elk.”

“It is good for a man to be jealous from time to time,”
Mountain Sage replied. She looked at her daughter thoughtfully. “Does it matter
to you that Wolf Shadow does not care?”

“No, of course not,” Winter Rain said quickly. “Strong Elk
wishes for us to marry when he returns from the land of the Crow.”

“So soon?”

“Yes. You do not approve?”

Mountain Sage looked pensive for a moment, and then nodded.
“I had thought of waiting until the spring, but I do not think it is wise to
wait.”

Winter Rain didn’t think so either until later, when she
went down to the river to bathe and saw Wolf Shadow standing on the bank, his
back toward her, his arms raised over his head in prayer.

She had not thought of him as a man who greeted the new day
in prayer to
Wakan Tanka.
She had not thought of him as being one of the
People in his heart. Hadn’t he come here to take her back to her
wasichu
parents?
Though he had said no more about it, she didn’t think he had forgotten about
it. It was another reason to marry Strong Elk as soon as possible.

She knew she should leave. A man deserved privacy when he
said his prayers, yet she found herself taking a step closer, her curiosity
overwhelming. What did he pray for?

Her gaze moved over him, noting again the width of his
shoulders, the way his back tapered to a tight waist, narrow hips and long
legs. She stopped wondering what it was he prayed for and wondered instead what
it would be like to run her hands over the muscles in his arms, to feel his
skin beneath her fingertips.

She froze as a leaf crackled beneath her foot. Had she been
paying more attention to what she was doing and less to the man before her, he
never would have known she was there.

Drawing the knife from the sheath at his side, Wolf Shadow
whirled around, every muscle taut. He relaxed visibly when he saw her.

“We meet here far too often to blame it on coincidence,” he
remarked, sheathing his knife. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were
following me.”

“I am not! This is my place. I told you that.”

“Then maybe I’m following you,” he replied with a teasing
smile.

“You are wasting your time if you are,” she replied with a
toss of her head. “I am to marry Strong Elk. He is strong and brave and will
make me a fine husband.”

“So you said.”

“He has gone to the land of our enemy to steal horses. We
will marry when he returns.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. I did not mean to interrupt your prayers,” she said,
and turned to leave.

She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when she felt his hand
close around her arm. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, made her heart
race in anticipation.

“Don’t go,” he said, and turned her around to face him.

“What do you want of me?” she asked.

“What do you think I want?”

“To take me back to the land of the
wasichu
, but I
will not go, and you cannot make me.”

His hand tightened on her arm. “That’s only part of it.”

She gasped as he drew her up against him.

“This is the other part,” he said, his voice husky, and then
he lowered his head and kissed her.

As it had before, the first touch of his lips on hers stole
the strength from her legs, the breath from her lungs. She clutched his
shoulders, wondering what magic he possessed, what power he had over her that
made her react so strangely. His lips moved over hers, eliciting myriad
sensations in her body and evoking sensual images of the two of them in her
mind.

Chance swore softly as he let her go. If he wasn’t careful,
he was going to seduce her, right here, right now, and then where would he be? He
wasn’t looking for a wife, didn’t have the time or the inclination to settle
down. All he wanted to do was collect the reward for returning Winter Rain to
the Bryants, pay off the loan at the bank, and find the last of the men who had
killed his mother. Until then, there was no place in his life for a woman, even
if she had a cloud of rich brown hair, eyes as blue as the sky overhead, and a
way of kissing that set his blood on fire.

“The water’s yours,” he said curtly, and turning his back on
her, he headed upstream. If he was lucky, the water would be cold enough to put
the out the flames.

When Chance got back to Kills-Like-a-Hawk’s lodge an hour
later, he found his cousin sitting outside, surrounded by a group of young boys
and girls, all listening in rapt silence as Kills-Like-a-Hawk told how the
Lakota came to be.

Having nothing else to do, Chance sat down to listen.

“It was in the long ago time,” Kills-Like-a-Hawk was saying,
“when the world was new, that the Lakota came out from the middle of the earth.
They were all one people then. They made one winter camp. They had but one
council fire. Many years passed. After a time, some of the People did not
return to the winter camp and when they did join with the original camp, they
kept their own council fire. They were called
tonwan
because they wanted
to be separate from the others.

“As time went on, others decided they, too, wished to be
separate, until there were seven council fires. While each
tonwan
was
separate, they remained friends, so they called themselves Lakota, and they
were allies against all other peoples.

“When all the Lakota come together, each
tonwan
placed its lodges together and built their own campfire. But the original
tonwan
was given the place of honor. Over time, the Tetons became very powerful and
warlike and they usurped the place of honor which had been given to the original
tonwan
, and that is why the Tetons now have the place of honor in our
camp circles.”

Kills-Like-a-Hawk nodded once, indicating that the story was
over.

It was a story Chance had heard often growing up and had,
for the moment, taken his mind off Winter Rain. But only for a moment.

With a shake of his head, he went out to the herd to check
on his horse.

* * * * *

Winter Rain sat in the shade with Dawn Song, keeping her
best friend company while she looked after her four-year-old sister who was
asleep inside the lodge. Dawn Song was slightly taller than Winter Rain. She
was a pretty girl with a wide generous mouth, heavily lashed black eyes, and a
fine straight nose. She was a year younger than Winter Rain.

“Have you seen the stranger?” Dawn Song asked.

“Yes,” Winter Rain answered. “I have seen him.” The thought
of how she had seen him brought a quick flush to her cheeks.

“He is a handsome warrior,” Dawn Song remarked.

“Do you think so?” Winter Rain asked

“You do not think so?” Dawn Song asked, astonished.

“I have not thought about it,” Winter Rain said, though, in
truth, she had thought of little else since Wolf Shadow had arrived.

“I think he is even more handsome than Strong Elk,” Dawn
Song.

Winter Rain thought so, too, but said nothing.

“The Brave Hearts are having a dance tonight,” Dawn Song
remarked.

Winter Rain nodded, grateful that her friend had changed the
subject. Only she hadn’t.

“I wonder if the stranger will be there. You are coming, are
you not?”

“Yes, of course,” Winter Rain said. Strong Elk belonged to
the Brave Hearts. It was one of the warrior societies. Her father belonged to
the Kit Fox society. There were other societies, like the
Naca Ominicias
,
who were often referred to as the Big Bellies. The
Naca Ominicias
was
made up of retired hunters and distinguished elderly shamans.

She wondered if Wolf Shadow was a member of the Brave
Hearts. If so, would he be at the dance?

Afraid that Dawn Song might question her further about Wolf
Shadow and discover her interest in the stranger, Winter Rain changed the
subject.

She dressed with care that night, her heart pounding with
mingled anticipation and trepidation at the thought of seeing him again. She
put on the new moccasins her mother had made for her. Soft and pliable, the
tops were covered with tiny yellow, blue and red beads. She brushed her hair
until it fairly crackled, then applied a bit of red paint to the part. She
fastened a blue and yellow beaded bracelet around her wrist, smoothed a hand
over the skirt of her tunic.

Mountain Sage smiled at her as she stepped out of the lodge.
“Have a good time, daughter.”

“Thank you for the moccasins.”

After hugging her mother, Winter Rain followed the other
young men and women who had been invited to the dance, which was being held in
a large tipi near the center of camp.

Entering the lodge, Winter Rain sat on the south side with
the other women. The men sat on the north side. A fire had been built in the
center of the lodge. Two paunch kettles were located near the fire, filled with
meat provided by the hostesses.

Dawn Song entered the lodge. She paused, her gaze moving
over the guests until she saw Winter Rain. Walking behind those already seated,
she sat down beside Winter Rain.

“Is he here?” she asked.

“Who?” Winter Rain asked, though she knew perfectly well who
her friend was talking about.

“Wolf Shadow, of course. Is he here?”

Winter Rain’s heart skipped a beat as the object of their
discussion entered the lodge. He wore a wolfskin clout, fringed leggings,
moccasins, an elkskin vest with a wolf’s head painted on one side and a bolt of
yellow lighting on the other. A single white eagle feather was tied in his long
black hair; a wide copper band spanned his right biceps.

His gaze found hers immediately and something hot and alive
passed between them before he sat down. He spoke to the warriors who sat on
either side of him, but his gaze never left hers.

When everyone had arrived, the girls rose. Walking across
the lodge, they each chose a partner by kicking the sole of his moccasin.
Winter Rain was not surprised when Dawn Song chose Wolf Shadow. Tamping down a
rush of jealousy, Winter Rain chose Strong Elk’s older brother, Buffalo Bear,
for her partner.

When the singing began, the dancers each grasped their
partner by the belt and with their knees slightly bent, began two-stepping
sideways, going clockwise around the fire to the rhythmic beat of the drums.