Chase the Wind (17 page)

“I have seen many horses out on the plains to the west.”

“Running wild?” Ian asked.

“Yes, ours for the taking,” Gray Horse replied. “Two men should
be able to take some, if they had a plan.”

“Tell me more,” Ian said.

Faith looked out the window and saw the dark head and the
russet one bent close together. Ian would tell her about it soon enough. She climbed into bed and went to sleep to the sounds of
their voices talking into the night.

The next day, Ian was full of plans for going after the wild horses.
Elizabeth was coming for a visit, so he decided to wait until she
arrived so Faith would not be left alone with the babies. Ian picked Elizabeth up in town from the stage depot. She arrived with many
packages and baskets full of food, bubbling over with excitement
at getting to see her grandchildren. When the buckboard pulled
into the yard, Faith ran out to meet her, letting herself be enfolded in the woman’s loving arms. Ian grinned at Faith over Elizabeth’s gray head as he loaded the packages into his arms.

Elizabeth immediately went to the babies upon entering the house. They were on the quilt in the middle of the floor in the sitting room. She plopped down between the two and scooped
them both up into her arms. Jamie looked up at her with his deep blue eyes, Jenny wiggled around until Ian took her out of Elizabeth’s arms. The only time Jenny seemed content was when her father was holding her. She was also quite fascinated with Gray
Horse, and would stare at him for long minutes on end.

Gray Horse arrived soon after they had finished dinner and were
sitting on the front porch enjoying the night air. Elizabeth gasped as the Indian seemed to appear magically out of the darkness. Ian
had heard the bird call that usually announced Gray Horse’s arrival
but neglected to tell anyone that company was coming. Faith was
by now used to the Indian turning up in the evenings and didn’t
bat an eye as he gently rubbed Jamie’s head. Elizabeth was holding
a sleeping Jenny in her arms and looked from Ian to Faith in bewilderment as Gray Horse sat down on the porch step next to Ian.

“We’ll be leaving at first light,” Ian informed the ladies. Faith
just nodded, she dreaded the separation but knew it couldn’t be
helped. This was a way to expand their herd with little financial investment. Ian had confided that Gray Horse was hoping to take
another wife and needed the horses to impress the girl’s father.

“Well, it worked on me, didn’t it?” Faith had laughed when he told her, remembering the first time she had seen him leading the
string of horses.

“And here I was thinking it was my charm and good looks,” he had replied as he advanced on her. She had just put the children down for a nap and was once again hanging diapers on the line when he had told her of the plans. He had grabbed her around the waist as she bent to get a diaper out of the basket, and she had squealed in mock fright, slapping the wet cloth against his chest. He flung the cloth over the line and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into the house. They had made
love while the children slept through the afternoon, smothering
laughter in the pillows as they tickled each other.

Faith looked at her husband, who was now sitting on the steps
of the porch with his friend, planning a roundup of wild horses.
God, please keep him safe,
she prayed silently.

Ian looked over at her from his perch and winked. She gathered the sleeping Jamie against her and took him to bed, Elizabeth fol
lowing with Jenny. They had fixed Elizabeth a place to sleep in the
sitting room, and she made her way to her bed after depositing
Jenny in hers.

Faith brushed out her hair as she waited in their bed for Ian to come to her. She heard the creak of the boards as he came across the porch and through the door. He bade Elizabeth a quiet good night, entered their room and closed the door firmly behind him.
He loved seeing Faith this way, with the light of the lantern making
a halo behind her head, her hair shining silver around her shoulders. He sat down on the bed and pulled off his boots. He had taken to going without his shirt as he worked in the sun, and his
chest and back were now as bronzed as Gray Horse’s. Faith rubbed
her hands over the muscles of his torso as he slid out of his pants,
and he leaned back, pulling her down on top of him. Her hair pooled on either side of his face as he kissed her and rolled her
over so that he was now on top of her, her hands once again knead
ing the muscles at the back of his neck, across his shoulders, down
his spine to his waist. Her hands moved around to the front and he lifted her to pull her gown up. She adjusted her hips and he
slid in, Faith letting out a little gasp as he did so. She wrapped her
legs around him and he began to move, his hands holding her head
gently between them, their foreheads touching, his hair hanging down on hers. Once again Faith held on to him for dear life as she
felt her body begin to spin off into space, nothing but the stars
around her.

Part Two

 
Iowa Territory

 
1853

Chapter Ten

Ian Duncan looked up from the corral post he was replacing. A
burst of laughter from Faith had caught his attention. She was on the
porch with Jenny, their blond heads bent over some sewing. It was an uncommonly warm day for fall, and he could see Faith’s bare toes peeking out from under her dress. Jenny’s feet were also bare, her ankles sticking out of a pair of Jamie’s hand-me-down pants. Jenny was perched on a stool beside her mother, watching the progression of intricate stitches that Faith was making in the fabric. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight of them. He told himself again how rich he was, to have a wife who was silver and a
daughter made of gold. Jenny closely resembled her mother in the
shape of her nose and chin, but her coloring was more vibrant,
possibly from all the time she spent in the sun. Jenny definitely had her father’s deep blue eyes, as did her brother Jamie.

Jamie was trying to wrestle the corral post into the hole left by
the broken one. At thirteen years of age the boy was shooting up
so fast that Faith couldn’t keep him in clothes. The endless eating
that had been his hallmark for years was becoming evident, and
he was already approaching his father in height, although he still
needed to fill out quite a bit through the shoulders. He was the
image of Ian, right down to the hair that wouldn’t stay where it
was supposed to. At present, Jamie’s copper-streaked hair was wringing with sweat and hanging down in his eyes as he shoved against the post. Ian reached out a hand and braced the top of the post while Jamie pushed the bottom until it slid into the hole. Ian handed him a hammer and stepped back so the boy could nail the
planks into place. Storm, who had been watching the proceedings,
danced away in mock fright when the hammering started. Ian watched the stallion’s antics, then began to whistle “Good King
Wenceslas.” Storm came over to where Ian was sitting on a barrel
and placed his nose in the man’s lap. Ian rubbed the horse’s sooty-colored nose as he considered the years that had brought him to
this place.

He had started his herd with a roundup of several horses that were running wild on the plains. Ian and Gray Horse had spent
several days pursuing the bunch before they trapped them in a box
canyon. They had camped there and cut the cream from the herd before turning the rest loose. They had then divided the animals
between them and tamed them enough to get them home. They had returned home some three weeks later much richer for the
trip. Faith had been beside herself with worry, but after one look at his satisfied grin she had declared it was all worth it.

Ian now had some of the finest horses in the whole territory,
with the U.S. Army as one of his best customers. Gray Horse had
also profited greatly from the trip and his friendship with Ian. He now had a wife, two fine sons and a daughter. He would occa
sionally bring his family along when he visited. His wife was still
shy after all these years, but the twins got on quite well with the
younger children and they would run all over the countryside until
they dropped into their beds at the end of the day.

Once again Ian looked up at the house where Faith and Jenny were working. The house had aged until it looked as if it was part of the landscape. There had been talk at one time of building an additional room after the birth of another son, but he had died at the age of two from the pox. Another son, born a few years later, had died in his sleep one afternoon, for no apparent reason. The two tiny bodies were in the church cemetery in town. Faith had been devastated, especially after losing the second.

She was pregnant once again, however, her condition just be
ginning to show. Ian hoped it was a girl. Jamie was all anyone
could every want in a son, but Ian knew Faith felt she had not
done quite as good a job in raising Jenny.

Ian couldn’t help grinning when he thought about his daughter. From the very first steps she took, she had been on her brother’s
heels, following wherever he led. It was never practical to put her
in a dress; she was constantly climbing trees and splashing through
creeks and getting into as much mischief as any boy ever did. She
also had an incredible sense of balance. She could walk across the
corral rail without batting an eye, and Ian had once caught her swinging from the rafter outside the hayloft in the barn. Faith still didn’t know about that one, she would have beat Jenny for a week
if she had seen it.

Faith had instilled proper manners in the children so that they
could be civil when they wanted. She had also managed to pass
down her talent for sewing to Jenny. They had spent many a winter
evening with Jenny working on a sampler while Jamie read out
loud. It was the only time Jenny ever really sat still. Jamie, however,
could sit for hours, reading a book, or just watching the clouds in the sky. He would be wrapped up in a world of his own making
until Jenny couldn’t stand it and would come pester him until he
joined her in some adventure, both of them flying across the plains,
usually bareback, Jenny’s long golden hair flying in the wind.

They both had inherited the Duncan horse magic, as Faith called
it, especially Jamie. He could tame a horse faster than anyone Ian had ever seen, and usually just by talking to it. He was constantly amazing Ian, who couldn’t help looking on the boy with pride. He was proud of Jenny, too; he just hoped that as she grew older she would grow more ladylike. There was still time. They were only
thirteen years old, on the threshold of growing up.

Jamie finished his work on the corral and stood back so his father
could inspect his work. Ian carefully looked over the job and
nudged the post with the toe of his boot. “Looks good to me,” he
finally announced. Jamie flashed a grin, and Ian put his arm around
the boy’s shoulder. “Let’s go see what your mother has fixed us for
dinner.”

Faith looked up and smiled as she saw Ian and Jamie making
their way to the house. They were so much alike that it scared her
sometimes. Ian was so proud of the boy, she had caught him several
times just watching him while he worked, or while he read, some
times even as he slept.

“Like this, Momma?” Jenny asked. Faith turned from her mus
ings to look at the sewing that was gathered in Jenny’s lap.

“Yes, that’s it,” she answered as she inspected the small, neat stitches. Jenny might run wild like a savage, but she was most
ladylike in her sewing, taking pride in the neatness of her work.

Something had caught Faith’s attention, and Jenny looked up to see what it was. Her father and brother were at the well. Ian was
working the pump so they could wash up for dinner, the lean
muscles in his back working effortlessly. As always, Jenny’s heart
skipped a beat when she looked at her father. He was as glorious
to her as a god, his easygoing ways and patience a calming influence
in her otherwise hectic life. He had always been the one to calm
her when her emotions got the better of her. Faith claimed she and
her daughter were too much alike personality-wise for her to be
able to reason with Jenny.