To Find You Again (21 page)

"His ankle's already swelling. When we get back, you need to put a cold cloth around it," he said quietly. "Could you lead Paint back?"

Emma nodded and hurried to gather the horse where he stood with his head lowered. Dark patches on the horse's coat showed where he'd sweat, and his skin rippled occasionally from quivering muscles.

When Emma returned with Paint, she was gratified to see Chayton slumped in Ridge's arms, with his head on the man's shoulder. Leading Paint, she walked behind them on the narrow trail back to the camp, trying not to notice how her son's head rested against Ridge's cheek, or how carefully he walked so he wouldn't jar Chayton.

Ridge abruptly halted and Emma nearly ran into his back. She raised up on her tiptoes to see over his shoulder. A broad, flat-nosed warrior stood in the middle of the path. Her breath caught in her throat and she had the overpowering urge to grab Chayton and run in the opposite direction.

The cruel eyes rested on Ridge a moment and Emma could see he was furious to have lost the horse race to a white man. Hotah's lips thinned and his gaze moved across Chayton to Emma. He reached for Chayton, but Ridge shifted away so the warrior couldn't touch him. Hotah snarled and his shoulders stiffened as his hands fisted at his sides.

Emma stepped forward. "He will carry Chayton. Let us pass," she said firmly, hoping Hotah would listen to a mere squaw.

The warrior remained long enough to prove he could, then stepped to the side. Ridge passed first and Emma retrieved Paint and followed after him.

When they arrived at their lodge, Emma left Paint ground-tied outside the tipi. She removed Chayton's moccasin, nearly crying when the boy whimpered again. She was aware of Ridge building up the fire.

"I need to heat some water," she said quietly.

Ridge nodded and ducked out to retrieve some.

Emma wrapped her son's swollen ankle with a rabbit skin. She brushed her fingers across his cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Head hurts," he whispered.

Emma swallowed back her tears. "I'll make something that will help."

Chayton bit his lower lip and nodded slightly.

Ridge returned with the water and set the kettle above the fire. He knelt in front of Chayton. "You're a brave warrior," Ridge said to the boy in Lakota.

Emma smiled gratefully at the man and retrieved her saddlebags to pull out her collection of herbs. As she waited for the water to warm, she listened to Ridge speak softly to Chayton.

"I'll bet you've never heard the story of the boy and the wolf, have you?" Ridge asked Chayton.

He shook his head, his amber eyes wide.

Ridge settled into a cross-legged position in front of the boy. "Many winters ago there was a boy who was called Dakota. Even though Dakota was only six summers, he took his bow and arrow and went hunting because his people were starving. He came upon a beautiful gray wolf who growled and snarled and showed his big sharp teeth. Dakota was very frightened, but he was also very brave like you. He did not run but spoke to the wolf. 'Why are you so mean?'

"That wolf stared at him for a long time, trying to decide if he should eat the foolish little boy. But he respected Dakota's courage, so he replied, 'I have a spine in my paw and I cannot get it out.'"

Emma leaned forward as Ridge's low, somewhat husky voice, drew her into the story.

"Dakota, who also had a kind heart, thought for a minute. 'I will help you if you promise not to hurt me.' The wolf nodded and laid down on the ground. Dakota carefully examined the wolf's paw. He found the sharp spine and gently removed it. The wolf was so happy he promised Dakota he would stay with him and protect him always.

"Then the wolf helped Dakota bring down deer and rabbits so Dakota's people wouldn't starve, but the people didn't understand how a little boy and a wolf could be friends. So they threw rocks at the wolf and chased him away. Angry and heartbroken, Dakota went after his new friend and never returned to his village. It is said that Dakota and his gray wolf still run through the woods together and if a person is lucky enough to see them, they will be blessed with a good hunt."

"I want a wolf," Chayton said.

Ridge smiled. "Maybe someday."

Emma stirred some herbs into a cup of warm water and carried it to her son. "Drink."

Chayton took the cup between his small hands and drank over half of it. The boy's eyelids drifted shut and Ridge settled him in the bed. Chayton hadn't napped earlier so Emma was fairly certain his drowsiness was caused by lack of sleep, rather than the bump to his head.

"That was a beautiful story," Emma said softly to Ridge.

He ducked his head. "Ma used to tell me one about a lion and a little boy. I figured Chayton would like a wolf better."

Emma stared at the cup in her hands, knowing it was time to tell Ridge of her dreams. She struggled to find the right words. "Remember when I told you I dreamed of a mountain lion?"

Ridge nodded slowly. "It was our last night in the cabin." His gaze caressed her face, and then flickered down to her breasts and back to her eyes.

The familiar curl of desire unfurled in her belly and she gripped the cup tighter to keep from reaching for Ridge. "The night before I left my parents' ranch, I had a dream about a wolf cub and a mountain lion. The frightened cub was being toyed with by the lion. A full-grown wolf tried to save the cub, and the wolf and the lion fought."

"What happened?"

She shook her head, feeling the urgency rise again. "I don't know. I woke up." She took a deep breath. "I've had the dream more than once since then."

"You think it's some kind of vision?"

Emma met his skeptical gaze without flinching and nodded. "Yes. That's why I had to find Chayton."

"You think he's the cub?"

"Yes."

"But you found him and he's safe."

"For now. In my dream, the moon is always full."

Ridge frowned. "There's a full moon tomorrow night."

Emma's heart leapt into her throat. "I know."

The fire crackled and Chayton snuffled restlessly. Outside the lodge, men and women talked, and children laughed. An occasional bark or whinny added to the peaceful sounds.

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" Ridge asked.

She smiled without humor. "Would you have believed me?" His silence gave Emma her answer. "The medicine man said I had a dreaming gift. He used to help me figure out what my dreams meant." She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear as she gathered her courage. "I'm afraid for him, Ridge. I can't let him out of my sight for the next few nights."

"I'll help you watch him."

"I thought you didn't believe me."

"I admit it's kinda hard to swallow, but I've seen a lot of strange things in my time, Emma. I guess this ain't all that different."

Ridge's warm understanding threatened to bring tears to Emma's eyes. It would be so easy to fall in love with Ridge Madoc. No other man—not even Enapay—had been so tender and thoughtful. Among the Lakota, Winona had been Enapay's wife and Chayton's mother. Winona was expected to do her duties with no complaints and be there when her husband or son needed her.

But what about Emma?

She wanted to be Chayton's mother, but Emma wanted more than Winona. She wanted her husband's respect, and she wanted to be involved in decisions affecting her. She wanted—no, needed—to be loved by the man she would share her life with. Winona had accepted less; Emma would not.

She laid her hand on Ridge's and squeezed it. "Thank you."

Ridge merely nodded and then rose. "I'd best take care of Paint. After that race, he needs a good rubdown."

Emma smiled. "By the way, congratulations."

Ridge studied her, his eyes hooded. "Are you glad I won, or glad I beat Hotah?"

"Both."

Chapter 13

Ridge felt the hostile gaze drill his back as he led Paint back to the rope corral. He wasn't surprised someone was watching him. Ever since he and Emma had arrived yesterday, their freedom around the camp had been an illusion. Emma might not see it, but Ridge did. At least one warrior was always guarding him. He didn't think it was the chief's doing, but the men in the village who didn't trust a
wasicu.

He kept his pace unhurried as he used Paint's saddle blanket to rub the gelding's withers, back, and flanks. He knew he was a fast horse, but hadn't realized how swift until the race. A smile tugged at his lips. The braves had been impressed by the weak white man.

Ridge rested his arms across Paint's back and stared out across the village. Two weeks ago when he'd left Sunset to find Emma Hartwell, he hadn't suspected half of what he'd learned about her since then. Discovering Emma was a widow had been surprising, but even more shocking was her son.

Taking Chayton back to Sunset was only inviting more trouble. Her life would be hell and old man Hartwell would try to cover up Emma's sin as quickly as possible by ridding himself of her and her half breed son. He might even force Emma to give up Chayton and then send her off to live with some far-off relative, like he'd planned before Emma had run away.

Bitter bile rose in Ridge's throat as he imagined the proud woman being forced to bend to her father's will. Emma would break before doing so, but what kind of life would she have? Would she end up in one of the cribs in the part of Sunset that everybody deliberately overlooked, where desperate men went looking for even more desperate women?

Merely imagining Emma lying on a dirty mattress, allowing every kind of man to rut with her made him want to puke. But hadn't he used her? She'd asked him about marriage, but he couldn't offer that to any woman until he had a good start on his ranch.

Would he have asked Emma if he was ready to take a wife?

The near-silent approach of someone made Ridge stiffen and strain to hear who it was. He turned slowly, expecting Hotah, but was pleasantly surprised to see Fast Elk.

"Hau,"
Ridge greeted.

"Hau,"
Fast Elk replied, his expression somber. "You raced well."

Ridge inclined his head in acceptance. "My horse is strong and fast."

Fast Elk crossed his arms and stared off into the distance. Ridge waited patiently.

"When I found Winona, she was frightened but she did not give in to tears," Fast Elk began. "Our daughter died when she was fourteen summers. Because she was strong and brave, I chose Winona to become our daughter. She never shamed us, but I knew she missed her white home. After the soldiers came, we thought we would never see her again."

"She wished to return to find her son and see her family," Ridge said.

"We lost many of our people that night and there was much wailing. Some blamed Winona for their coming." Fast Elk took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His dark eyes overflowed with regrets. "She can no longer live with us. The young warriors are angry. War will come and we will have to fight, but we will not win."

Ridge wanted to offer him hope, but Fast Elk would recognize his words as a lie. "What of Winona's son?" he asked instead.

"He is Lakota."

"Winona wishes to take him to her white home."

Fast Elk's eyes flashed. "No. He will learn the ways of a warrior as his father did."

"But you said you will not win the war."

"It does not matter. To die honorably in battle is our way."

"She loves him."

"Then she must do what is best for him." Fast Elk turned and strode away noiselessly.

But who was to say what was best for Chayton? Emma wouldn't leave her son without a fight.

Ridge patted Paint's neck and headed back to his lodge. Again, he could sense suspicious eyes on him and knew someone, maybe even Fast Elk, was observing him.

He passed two young squaws who kept peeking at him and giggling. He smiled and tipped his hat toward them, which resulted in more laughter and more heated looks. If Ridge was ten years younger, he might've fished for an invitation, but there was only one woman who tempted him now.

And she was the one woman he couldn't have.

Ridge dropped the last armload of wood beside the lodge and grinned as he listened to Emma give her son, who'd awakened feeling better, strict orders to stay out of trouble. From what Ridge could recall, that meant a challenge to see how much trouble the boy could get into without his ma finding out.

"Kids are tougher'n they look," Ridge commented as Chayton ran off, his limp barely noticeable.

Emma made a face. "Especially that one."

Ridge chuckled and sat down by the fire. Emma bent her head over her task and one honey-brown braid fell across her shoulder and draped down the front of her deerskin tunic. He could see a hint of her bare knee between the top of her moccasins and the bottom of her dress.

"Are you wearing your knife?" Ridge asked.

Emma glanced up. "Yes." She turned her attention back to sewing beads upon a shirt.

Ridge picked up a stick and drew random letters and numbers in the dirt. "I got the impression you and Hotah have a history."

She wrestled with her bone needle, forcing it through a double layer of deerskin. "You're an observant man, Mr. Madoc."

"You're trying to change the subject, Winona." He tossed his stick on the small fire. "Don't you think you've kept enough secrets from me already?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Hotah never liked me. He would taunt me, call me names, when no one was around. I didn't tell anyone." She shrugged. "After I married Enapay, Hotah stopped bothering me, but I could tell he still didn't like me."

"Did he ever hurt you?" Ridge asked, rage simmering in his veins.

"No, but I never felt comfortable around him." She smoothed her hand across the soft deerhide she'd laid in her lap. "Talutah said Hotah wants to be Chayton's teacher."

"But Chayton's part white."

"I know." She shook her head, bewildered. "It doesn't make sense, unless it's his way of hurting me."

"Can't Fast Elk choose someone else?"

"He could, but there may not be anyone else." Emma squared her shoulders. "It doesn't matter. I'm taking Chayton with me when we leave."