Blaze's face was startled. "You know?"
His thumbs' soothing rhythm resumed. "I thought," he quietly said, "maybe you didn't know."
"How could you know?" she bluntly asked.
"I've been with you every day, from mare a ape asi'E to batsu(w)o' oce. I would have known if your monthly cycle had come. It hasn't."
"Are you angry?" she inquired, a breathless apprehension undisguised.
"No."
"Are you happy?" And she waited for his answer, her heart filled with dread.
It terrified him, but he couldn't tell her so. He was vulnerable now for the first time in his life, vulnerable to the fear of death. His courage as a warrior, the courage which surrounded him with the sanction of invincibility, all the enviable successes hadn't been based on an absence of fear. His courage wasn't that. It was disregard of fear, a detachment from personal safety. And now his personal safety mattered for Blaze, for their child. Unlike his other children, who would be nurtured by his closest knit clan, even if he died, this new child would be alone in the world with only a mother if he should be killed.
He had always known it was his destiny to save his beloved clan or die in the attempt. Either way, he'd be true to his vision. And he'd always been at ease with the truth of his mission. Now his neutrality in the face of danger was impossible, and he was terrified.
Pulling her close, lifting her into his lap, he buried his face in her scented hair. Raising his head a moment later, he whispered, "I'm happy, bia-cara, about the child." His mouth lightly caressed her cheek. "Our spirits are one now. When you breathe I feel it, when you smile the warmth touches my flesh, the pulse of our child's heart echoes in mine."
"Do we have to go back?" she implored, feeling safe and protected here in the mountains.
"My duty lies there. I must," Hazard said, feeling the same sadness at leaving Blaze felt. "A lodge in the mountains with you and our child… someday…" His voice trailed off, the future too troubling.
Tears filled Blaze's eyes. "Can the baby be born here, in the mountains?"
Hazard nodded, affected by the same impulse, wanting his child born in peace and in love. He and Blaze had found the very best the world can give here in the land of his people, and he dearly wanted the same bounty of love for his child.
"Promise me," she pleaded, needing to hear the words to counter the lurking apprehensions, willing to cling to the words against the trepidation filling her mind.
"I promise," Hazard said, because he loved this woman. It was a promise he wanted to believe, a promise he hoped he'd be able to keep.
THEY started back at dawn escorted by Rising Wolf and a dozen warriors, for after the raid on the Blackfeet there was always the possibility of retaliation.
The cabin was untouched when they reached the mine site, except for some supplies Jimmy had brought up. The mine entrance was intact; no visitors there either. Rising Wolf and the escort searched the entire area before they proclaimed it safe. No signs anywhere of trespassers. It was shortly before sunset when Hazard and Blaze bade them goodbye.
"It feels like home," Blaze said, standing just inside the doorway, surveying the small, primitive cabin. Everywhere she looked triggered memories.
"Our first home," Hazard said, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her waist. "Are you tired?"
She leaned her head back against his strong chest. "No, the trip back was leisurely." Hazard had intended it that way. He wasn't taking any chances with Blaze's health.
"You have to be careful now. Don't do too much."
"I feel fine."
"Ummm," he agreed, hugging her close, bending his head to kiss her cheek. And he wondered, as he'd often done since she'd walked up the mountain so many weeks ago, how he'd existed before her. Which brought to mind a recurring thought much on his mind since Blaze's announcement of the baby. Turning her around in his arms, Hazard softly said, "Now with the baby coming…"
Blaze's brow crinkled expectantly when he hesitated. "Yes?" And she worried momentarily at Hazard's serious look.
"We should locate your father. He should know about the baby, about our marriage." Or, Hazard thought, if he is dead, Blaze should be told so she doesn't keep waiting for him to appear.
"I'd like that. I know Daddy will be happy for me, for us. He'd always said 'when you find love you'll know,' but until I met you I wasn't sure he was right. Do you suppose we could send him a message somehow… with Jimmy, perhaps?"
"I'll check into it," Hazard replied, certain that if Jimmy didn't know where the Colonel was, Rose could find out. Now that he knew the Colonel was no longer using his guide, if he was alive, he would have returned to Diamond City or Virginia City.
ON THE same evening Blaze and Hazard were settling in back at the mine, on the same evening they were discussing means of getting in touch with the Colonel, Yancy and Millicent Braddock were discussing their marriage plans.
"We should wait a year, Yancy darling. You know what protocol demands."
"Millicent," Yancy returned with a solicitous smile, "I can't wait a year. I've told you before. Please don't insist. Do you know how long I've searched for a woman like you?" His low voice was intimate, but hoarse now since Hazard's knife had pierced his throat. Yancy had hovered between life and death until the hired trackers had come back to Confederate Gulch shortly after Hazard's attack. Even drifting in and out of a coma, Yancy had heard the words: The Colonel was dead; victim, they had coarsely laughed, of renegade Indians. The news had revitalized Yancy's spirit and he'd fought to live.
A month later, he was recovered, and the Colonel's body was at the mortician's awaiting transportation east as soon as his grieving widow found her daughter.
Millicent preened, looking up at him from under modestly downcast lashes in the way she'd been taught as a young debutante so many years ago. "How very sweet of you."
"It's God's own truth, honey," Yancy drawled, and he meant every word. He'd been looking for a rich southern lady to marry all his adult life. "We could have been married after the funeral, if you'd let him be buried out here. No one outside Montana would know exactly how many months one way or another."
"Buhl Mining, love," she prudently cautioned him. "They're all his friends. I'd be cut dead in Boston society if we rushed into this marriage."
"So? We'll be moving back to Virginia anyway."
"Be practical, darling. Probating the will"—she raised her pale, carefully groomed brows—"will take months. Months in Boston. Months in Boston dealing with William's friends. Plus, the mining property is held in common with all his Boston colleagues. A return to Virginia is in the future. Right now, all the money and property are tied up in Boston."
"Where is the will?" Yancy inquired. As long as the conversation was so frankly candid tonight, Yancy didn't feel obliged to feign needless tact.
"With William's attorney, Curtis Adams."
"Do you know how things are divided?" It was gently put, the new hoarseness in his voice more prominent now, in his anticipation.
"Between myself and Venetia, I presume."
It was expected, of course, although it would have been smooth as silk if the troublesome girl had been eliminated also. "We really will need her, then," he conceded. "If she's missing, it could hold up everything."
"I think under the circumstances of William's death"—Millicent looked pointedly at Yancy—"our case would appear more respectable if my daughter returned east with us. A mourning mother and daughter accompanied by my 'distant cousin,' rather than you and me alone returning with my husband's body, would attract less comment. Indians generally don't have access to new Winchesters, and suspicious minds might gossip. Vene-tia's presence would be reassuring to the doubters. Then after the will is probated and the property disposed of, I'm sure Venetia can be settled somewhere on a modest stipend—perhaps Europe. If she should prove disagreeable"—Millicent shrugged her small delicate shoulders, bare tonight above nonmourning red-colored silk in the privacy of her sitting room—"we can think of something else."
"Your plans seem quite complete," Yancy huskily murmured, his light eyes shrewdly approving.
"It's not as though I haven't dreamt of this before," Millicent silkily said. "But until you came along, Yancy darling, I'd no one to—ah—confide in." Millicent delighted in Yancy, but they both delighted in the prospect of becoming millionaires much more. Although their common backgrounds drew them close, their common lack of scruples was the true bond, and at base the marriage they were discussing was decidedly practical. It was a match of passionate, resentful natures, a match of genteelly poor southerners, intent, finally, on coming into a great deal of money; above all, it was a match of limitless greed, a marriage of extreme convenience.
"In that case, Millicent, love, I think we should immediately consider rescuing your daughter from her abductor. The longer we wait, the longer it will take to reach Boston and clear up the property matters."
Millicent brushed a particle of dust off the shimmering silk of her skirt and, looking up, casually inquired, "You have the necessary men assembled?"
"Have had since the Colonel's body was brought down."
"And they're both back?"
"Lights in the cabin windows tonight, my lookout informed me no more than a half-hour ago."
"At last." Millicent sighed. She and Yancy had been waiting in Diamond City for over a week and she was thoroughly disgusted with the primitive conditions. "I don't want her hurt. My reputation wouldn't survive my daughter's death as well as my husband's. You understand," she said evenly.
"Of course, Millicent. I understand." Until they were married, Yancy had no intention of countering her slightest whim.
"Will it take long?" She was already mentally arranging the necessary orders to her maid for an early departure.
"We should be ready to leave by midafternoon. Mid-morning, if all goes well."
"I've everything arranged." Her mouth twisted into a faint smile.
"Good." Yancy's eyes flashed with an inner fire. At this time tomorrow night they'd be on their way to Salt Lake City on the Overland Stage. In less than two weeks, with good connections and no mishaps, they'd be in Boston. And he'd be on the brink of the riches that had eluded him all his life. He got up to leave, careful of appearances in this small mining town.
"Oh, and one thing, darling… I don't want to hear any details about the Indian." She'd had to warn Yancy off when he'd begun being uncomfortably explicit about William's death.
Yancy would have liked to tell her of his smoothly implemented plan. He was proud of how easily the Colonel's death had been accomplished. Of course, it helped that Billy Braddock had been in the wilds, where Indian attacks as well as robberies were common. Ned Gates had told him it was like taking candy from a baby: They'd seen the Colonel and his guide from their lookout on the last butte before Virginia City. Their high-powered rifles had picked off the two men effortlessly, attack that close to town being unexpected.
The Indian had gotten away, Ned had said, but was trailing blood. No one had bothered going after him, but Yancy was unconcerned. The Colonel was dead and the Indian, even if he lived, wasn't going to come into town with any accusations.
Millicent had appreciated Yancy's polite concurrence to her wishes, relieved she didn't have to be involved in any way with the unsavory details of murder.
"Don't forget the note," she reminded him, gesturing toward the table near the window. If anyone investigates we want them to think Venetia left of her own free will."