Elaine Barbieri (16 page)

That thought suddenly unbearable, Miranda raced after Shadow Walker. She reached him as he mounted his horse. Her heart aching when he looked down at her coldly and turned his horse away, she was certain of only one thing—that her heart was breaking.

Shadow Walker hesitated as he prepared to ride off. Miranda had raced to follow him, and she was looking up at him with great, light eyes despairing.

Despite himself, Shadow Walker felt his anger weakening. His scouting mission to Fort Lyon where Crying Crow, Buffalo Chaser, and he had watched the fort for several days, hoping to discover a way to rescue Red Shirt, had met with failure. He had returned and spoken to White Horse, and had then gone directly to seek Miranda—but his joy in seeing her again had been short lived.

Contradictions assailed him: Miranda was beautiful in ways he had not previously considered beautiful, yet her beauty touched him deeply; she was strong in ways that raised his ire, yet those ways demanded his respect; her mind was sharp and quick, occasionally fostering suspicion, yet she spoke with a truth and candor that he could not deny. Staring down at her a moment longer, he
acknowledged something else as well—that in spite of those contradictions, Miranda had found a place in his heart that no one could replace.

Reaching down abruptly, Shadow Walker swung Miranda up onto his horse in front of him. His arms tight around her, he drew her back against him, then kicked his mount into a full gallop. Traveling at a furious pace, he did not draw back on the reins until his mount was deeply lathered and the camp had disappeared into the distance behind them.

Miranda made no sound when he turned his horse toward a shady patch nearby, then dismounted and lifted her to the ground. She did not speak as he drew her into a crushing embrace.

Miranda responded to his kiss and he felt the fluttering of her heart against his chest. Drawing back from her, Shadow Walker whispered, “Would you so easily sacrifice this bond between us so you could return to your people?” When she hesitated, he pressed, “Yet you would leave me now if I allowed it?”

“No … yes … I mean—” Miranda’s words were shaken. “I don’t know.”

Shadow Walker studied Miranda’s moist gaze, her trembling lips. Her conflicted emotions touched a chord that melted the hard core of his anger. A new swell of tenderness rising within him, he consoled her in the only way he could when he whispered at last, “Do not concern
yourself with an answer, Miranda. I will see to it that you never need to make a choice.”

Riding at the head of his escort as the sun reached its apex, Charles approached Fort Walters. He had stepped down from the train and had then boarded an overland stage that had rattled and shaken its way along the rutted trails. He had looked out the window of the coach at the wilderness terrain to see that the driver maintained a relentless pace with a watchful eye, despite the presence of the heavily armed guard seated beside him and the two additional guards riding behind—all silent testimony to the continuing deterioration of the situation on the frontier.

Major Thurston frowned at the thought that ironically, the worsening condition on the frontier had worked out to his advantage in Washington. It had provided the final thrust necessary to gain acceptance of his new proposal, which had been forwarded ahead from Washington to the frontier by wire, with instructions for Indian agent Edwards to offer it immediately to the Cheyenne.

Relieved to be riding through Fort Walters’s gates again at last, the major then dismounted and turned toward the contingent awaiting him. Lieutenant Hill stood in front, his expression cold. Standing beside Hill, his round face wreathed in smiles, was Indian agent Edwards.

Stepping forward as Major Thurston dismounted,
Lieutenant Hill offered with sincerity sadly lacking, “Welcome back, Major.”

In sharp contrast, Edwards extended his hand with a hearty laugh, saying, “Well, you did it! You finally got Washington to authorize something that might actually make a difference out here. Congratulations!”

Major Thurston’s expression was sober as he replied, “Your telegram provided exactly the support I needed to win my case, Edwards. I’m obliged. What I want to hear you say now is that you’ve already forwarded the proposal on to the Cheyenne.”

“I sent it days ago.”

Turning back to Lieutenant Hill, Major Thurston ordered, “Dismiss my escort and see that they’re fed and given bunks for the night. They’ll be returning to Fort Rankin in the morning. You can join Edwards and me in my office when you’re finished.”

Lieutenant Hill’s orders echoed behind him as Major Thurston started toward his office with Edwards. A caustic smile touched the major’s lips. From the look of Hill, things hadn’t gone the way he had wanted at the fort. That was a shame. He hoped Hill wasn’t disenchanted with the glory of command.

Spotted Bear watched as the military contingent he had been awaiting disappeared within the gates of Fort Walters. Turning to the scouting party behind him, he spat
a few sharp words, then turned back to his surveillance of the fort. The soldiers believed themselves far above the Cheyenne, but fools that they were, they did not realize their Indian scouts were faithful to the Cheyenne and had warned them that the fort commander would soon return with new orders from Washington.

A contemptuous growl sounded low in Spotted Bear’s throat. He was not dismayed. His people were at the end of their patience. Another proposed treaty would be his chance to convince the last dissenters in his tribe that there was only one way to deal with those who spilled Cheyenne blood.

With a quick gesture to his men, Spotted Bear turned and headed back in the direction of camp. He would await the arrival of the communication there, knowing that with the return of Major Thurston, the moment of full glory was nearing.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rattling Blanket limped out of her lodge and looked around her. The sun had passed the midpoint in the clear sky. Its rays were bright and warm on her shoulders, numbing the aches that still remained from her fall weeks earlier.

Her mind slipping back to those dark days, Rattling Blanket recalled the haze of pain and heat in which she had drifted until Shadow Walker’s voice stirred her from those shadows and she then heard the girl’s whispered words of regret. Her spirit was renewed at that moment, and the echoes of those two voices had guided her back.

A smile touching her lips, Rattling Blanket exalted in her return to health. She was grateful that her mind was now clear, and that during her recovery, with Miranda at her side, she had come to know the golden-haired one’s heart. Her faith had been restored.

Her brief smile fading, Rattling Blanket turned again to scan the surrounding area. Miranda had left the lodge earlier. Although concerned that the girl had not yet returned, she did not choose to inquire of the squaws where Miranda might be, aware that although their
animosity had softened, they still held themselves apart from her. She knew Spotted Bear was reportedly absent from camp, but she also knew his continuing lust for the girl and jealousy of Shadow Walker had not abated. Uncertain if he had returned, she feared the outcome if Spotted Bear had waylaid her.

Sensing a presence behind her, Rattling Blanket turned abruptly to see Two Moons standing there. She frowned as the old woman observed, “You look for someone whom you fear, and you fear for someone who holds a place in your heart.”

Nodding, Rattling Blanket waited. Two Moons had been a silent presence in her lodge during her recovery. She had spoken little to Miranda, choosing instead to visit when Miranda was absent from the lodge. Rattling Blanket knew that Two Moons had not told anyone about her vision out of deference to her, but she sensed a change. Reluctant to hear what the old woman had to say, she did not encourage her to speak, but Two Moons would not be silenced.

Persevering, Two Moons began, “The girl has been absent from your lodge for many hours.”

“I am concerned only for her safety.”

“The girl gains acceptance in the camp.”

“Because she has proved her worthiness.”

“Because Running Elk relates to all who will listen that
you were close to death, were deaf to his supplications, and were slowly slipping from his grasp when the girl returned. He speaks of observing from the doorway as you awakened with the girl beside you—and witnessing the moment when Dancing Star’s spirit entered the girl’s heart to draw you back.”

Surprised at Two Moons’s revelation, yet sensing a dark moment to come, Rattling Blanket maintained her silence as the old woman continued, “I have attempted to yield to Running Elk’s words. I have fought to accept his wisdom, but I can keep silent no longer.”

Two Moons’s gaze grew intense. “The vision returned last night. I saw our people crying in despair as flames consumed our lodges, as gunfire and long knives slashed the air. Amid it all, I saw the girl seated on her mount with the white man’s horse soldiers surrounding her. At her feet, I saw Shadow Walker lying—”

“I will listen no more!”

Anguish visible in the deep lines of her face, Two Moons whispered, “My silence weighs heavily on my heart. I would speak and give fair warning to our people.”

“If you speak, the camp will strike Running Elk’s words from mind and act against the girl. Shadow Walker will be raised to fury and Cheyenne will draw Cheyenne blood, lending a truth to your vision that you do not desire.”

“Blood will be shed. I saw it!”

“You are old. Your sight becomes confused.”

“My body ages, but my visions are clear.”

Panicking at the old woman’s determined response, Rattling Blanket said, “Warn if you must, but speak to Shadow Walker first, for it is he whom your vision concerns.”

“Shadow Walker’s heart has been touched by the girl. He will not listen.”

“Shadow Walker’s heart is Cheyenne.”

Considering Rattling Blanket’s words for a silent moment, Two Moons replied, “You would place the weight of all I have seen on Shadow Walker’s shoulders? It is a heavy burden indeed.”

“Shadow Walker’s shoulders are broad and his strength unfailing. The fate of the Cheyenne will rest safely there.”

Her intense gaze lingering a moment longer, Two Moons nodded, then turned away.

His mount spent and lathered from the relentless pace he had traveled since leaving Fort Walters behind, Spotted Bear grunted with satisfaction when the Cheyenne camp finally came into view. He glanced back at the braves behind him and saw that Eagle Feather and Runs With Wolves appeared equally glad that their scouting party was nearing home at last.

Slowing his approach, Spotted Bear sneered. His reasons were not the same as Eagle Feather’s, whose thoughts
now centered on the skinny squaw waiting for him in his lodge. Nor did he share Runs With Wolves’s eagerness to return so he might join the next raiding party to leave the camp. His intentions went deeper than those feeble ambitions. Instead, he looked to a time when he would establish a fame with the Cheyenne that would outrank that of the noblest warrior of his tribe—when he would then make certain that Shadow Walker’s legend did not survive because Shadow Walker would not survive.

As if in response to his thoughts, Spotted Bear saw a rider rapidly approaching from the opposite direction. The rider came from the direction of Black Hand’s camp—Black Hand, close friend to Indian agent Tom Edwards.

His scrutiny intensifying, Spotted Bear saw the rider slide his mount to a halt at the edge of the camp, then dismount to walk swiftly toward White Horse’s lodge.

Spotted Bear recognized the rider to be Leaning Tree, renowned in Black Hand’s camp as his swiftest messenger. Suddenly certain that the time had come, that Black Hand’s messenger was even now delivering the new offer from Washington, Spotted Bear kicked his exhausted mount forward, so he might be present to guide the future on its way.

“Sir, I wish to make a statement.”

Lieutenant Hill struggled to restrain his contempt as Major Thurston turned toward him with a raised brow.
The major had retired to his office with Indian agent Edwards upon his return to Fort Walters a short time earlier. Hill had joined them within minutes, and had listened, silently irate, while the specifics of the offer forwarded to the Cheyenne were enumerated.

Waiting until Thurston signaled him to continue, Hill said, “I feel it is my duty to state for the record that I disagree with the policy being established by your offer to the Cheyenne.”

Thurston replied coolly, “What are your objections, Lieutenant?”

Hill replied with growing heat, “I feel the proposal is an abomination, sir.”

“An abomination?”

“Instead of making these savages understand that we will never allow them to win a war against us, you are
appealing
to them—making them think that they have rights in this struggle for the frontier.”

“They
do
have rights.”

“Do they?” Hill gave a scoffing snort. “They won’t stop killing and butchering while there’s a single one of them left alive, and the sooner the US military realizes that, the better.”

“I think you’ve said enough, Lieutenant.”