To Find You Again (24 page)

Hotah straightened his spine and pulled his shoulders back. He glared at the chief, then shifted his fierce look to Ridge and Emma. "I will not forget," he vowed in a tone that sent dread through Emma's veins.

He pivoted and a line opened between the People to allow him through. He swaggered away, leaving shocked silence in his wake.

Akecheta gazed at Ridge and Emma, his lined face impassive. "One more day."

The chief retreated to his lodge, and after a few moments, the crowd dissipated quietly. Fast Elk and Talutah were the last to return to their tipi after a long, lingering look filled with sadness and resignation.

For the first time since she'd been accepted by the tribe years earlier, Emma felt the sting of being an outsider.

She remained standing beside Ridge, fighting tears. "At one time, these were my people, my family." Her voice broke. "Now, it's as if they're strangers."

Ridge cupped her face in his palms. "You can't change your skin color, or the way you were raised. And with the whites pushing the Indians again, lines will be drawn according to those differences."

She knew he spoke the truth, but the realization didn't lessen the pain.

"It's been nearly a week anyhow, Emma. We need to be getting back," Ridge said. "Day after tomorrow, we'll leave early in the morning and get a good start."

Emma nodded. She had one day to prepare her son to leave the only family he'd ever known.

Ridge lay awake, his crossed arms pillowing his head as he stared up at the black sky through the smoke hole in the center of the lodge. Restlessness vibrated in his bones. After the confrontation with Hotah, Ridge had wanted to gather Emma and leave immediately. At least Hotah would no longer be a threat to Chayton—some other brave in the village would train the boy.

Chayton snuffled and shifted in his sleep, causing Emma to move also. Ridge closed his eyes against the memories her presence made impossible to forget—the feathery light caress of her hands; her warm, firm lips upon his; and her needy whispers begging him to touch her and fill her.

He shoved the randy thoughts away, but a soft, passionate cry sifted through the stillness from another tipi, bringing unwelcome images. Ridge smothered a groan, not wanting to listen to the amorous coupling, but he couldn't shut the sounds out. Heated blood shot to his groin and it took everything he had to ignore the temptation to bring relief to himself.

"Ridge."

Emma's quiet whisper startled him and he was glad for the darkness that covered his flushed face. "Yeah?"

She remained silent for so long, Ridge thought maybe he'd imagined her voice, confusing it with the breathy murmurs coming from the nearby lodge.

"When we get back home, we can't see each other again or folks will talk even more," she said softly.

Ridge stiffened, angry that she'd think he would further sully her reputation. "I'm not going to give them any more call to gossip, Emma."

He heard her roll over and turned his head to find her peering at him. "That wasn't what I meant."

Even in the dimness, Ridge could see frustration in her pale features.

Across the night air, a loud moan spilled from a man's lips, echoed by a woman's cry. Emma's head turned in the direction from which the loving sounds had come. When she gave her attention to him once more, tension radiated from her body.

"I won't ever marry again."

Confused, Ridge offered, "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," she stated firmly. "No man will want me."

"If you move away from Sunset, no one will know. You can say you're a widow."

"With Chayton, everyone will know." Ridge opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. "I don't want to argue with you tonight." She paused and he had the impression something else was on her mind. Something that both frightened and excited him. "I'm a widow, Ridge. I know what I'm giving up when I say I'll never be a wife again, and I most certainly won't be anyone's whore either."

Her use of the vulgar word and the vehemence in her quiet voice surprised him, but before he could speak, she continued.

"Despite what many folks in Sunset believe, I've lain with only two men—my husband and you. Enapay is dead, and you have your own life to return to when we get back to town. But now—" She stuttered to a halt, as if her courage deserted her.

Ridge took a deep breath and hoped he was reading her intentions correctly. His conscience nudged him, but his need for Emma was far too powerful to ignore. He raised one side of the buffalo hide blanket in mute invitation.

After ensuring Chayton was sound asleep, Emma crawled over to join him. She knelt in front of him and lifted the doeskin dress over her head, then tossed it aside. She wore nothing beneath it and her pale skin reflected the orange glow of the embers. Her nipples, surrounded by dusky circles, hardened as he watched. Unable to resist, he reached forward to roll the hard flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

Emma's head fell back, baring her throat and thrusting her breasts toward him. Ridge rose up to embrace her. He nipped and kissed the slender column of her neck as his hands roamed up and down her silky back and sides. Her tiny moans were accompanied by puffs of warm, moist air across his cheek.

How had he thought he could get enough of Emma in just one day? Her rising musky scent teased him and his body responded instinctively to the invitation to mate. But he recognized it as more than mere animalistic urges. He cared for Emma and admired her more than any woman he'd known.

As he gently lowered her to his bed and covered her body with his, something else pierced the lusty fog in his brain.

He was falling in love with her.

Emma fisted her hands and laid them on her thighs, willing herself to remain calm in the face of Talutah's stubbornness.

"He is my son. He belongs with me," she said, keeping her tone steady.

"He is Lakota. He belongs with his people." Talutah's dark eyes narrowed. "You take him to the
wasicu's
town and he will be killed."

"No one will hurt him! I will protect him."

"Pah! You will not be able to protect him from words or hate. He will wither and die."

Emma blinked back tears of frustration. "You cannot stop me. He is mine!"

Talutah studied her with a flat gaze that gradually gave way to sympathy. "Think of Chayton. Here he is free to run and play among the other children. Here he will become a respected warrior. But in your world, he will always be a
half-breed."
The term was spat out. "He will wallow in your whiskey and his thoughts will scatter. No longer will he be strong and swift."

"I won't let that happen to him. I will shelter him from the taunts and hatred."

Talutah shook her head sadly. "You are only a woman, Winona, and Chayton needs a
leksi
to teach him what it is to be a man."

Visions of Ridge instructing her son brought a bittersweet swell in her chest. She squared her shoulders and straightened her backbone. "Chayton will leave with me in the morning."

Talutah scowled, but she didn't continue the argument. Emma knew that the older woman could speak to the chief about keeping Chayton here in the village, but doubted her stepmother would. For all her stubbornness, Talutah loved her, just as Emma loved her.

Emma rose gracefully although her body twinged from the night's pleasures in Ridge's arms. Twice they'd joined and she'd flown to the stars each time. Ridge was a skillful lover, who could be gentle or fierce, whichever she wished him to be. She already longed for his touch again.

She slipped out of her adopted parents' lodge and looked around in the afternoon sunshine. Spotting Ridge and Chayton by the river, she smiled and walked toward them.

As she drew nearer. Ridge turned as if sensing her presence. His welcoming smile warmed her and sent a pang of desire through her. He was so handsome, so confident, and so gentle. If she hadn't left Sunset, or if her father hadn't hired Ridge to find her, or if he had given up after she'd escaped him, she would have never known his loving.

"What are you two doing?" she asked in Lakota.

"Searching for frogs," Ridge replied in English.

"Frogs," Chayton repeated exuberantly as he held up a squirming green and black one in his small fist.

Emma gaped at her son. "You know English?"

The slippery frog escaped Chayton and splashed into the water. The boy knelt at the edge of the stream to watch it swim away.

"He knows a few words." Ridge answered her question. "I gave him the English name for plants and animals we came across."

Touched by Ridge's considerateness and generosity, she couldn't speak. However, knowing he'd be embarrassed if she made too much out of it, she merely said, "Thank you."

"It wasn't any hardship, Emma. He's a good boy."

And she could see the sincerity in his eyes, as well as the fondness he held for her son. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to convince him it was best for all involved if Chayton returned to Sunset with them.

With that glimmer of hope, Emma smiled. "Would anyone like to go for a walk?" she asked in Lakota.

Chayton scrambled to his feet and the excitement in his eyes gave Emma her answer.

"Ridge?" she asked quietly as Chayton skipped ahead.

Ridge smiled and guided her down the path after the boy.

Emma focused on Chayton, who squatted down and intently studied something on the ground. She spotted the pile of animal droppings and wrinkled her nose.

Ridge chuckled over her shoulder. "What animal is it, Chayton? Answer in English."

"Rabbit," he replied with an impish grin.

Pride rolled through Emma. Her son was a fast learner.

She followed a few paces behind Ridge and Chayton, listening as Ridge alternated between speaking Lakota and English as he taught the boy more than just a new language. He told Chayton about ice cream and buildings taller than ten men. Maybe Ridge would spend time with Chayton when they returned and continue the informal lessons.

Her good mood vanished as she imagined Ridge being taunted for befriending a half-breed boy. Ridge had endured too much ridicule in his life, and to be seen with Chayton or herself would surely heap more on him. No, it was better if they made a clean break once they arrived back home.

Some time later, she and Ridge sat atop large rocks across from one another while Chayton stretched out on a sun-warmed bed of soft pine needles. He was asleep within moments.

"How did your talk with Talutah go?" Ridge asked neutrally.

Emma drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Badly. She thinks Chayton is better off staying with the tribe."

"She's right."

Ridge had never been a mother. He couldn't understand the bond a woman developed for the child she carried within her womb for nine months. To abandon her son again would kill her as surely as a bullet to her heart. "What about his mother?" she asked.

"She'll be better off without him, too," Ridge said, his voice gravelly.

Enraged and terrified by his matter-of-fact words, she glared at him. "Have you ever cried yourself to sleep night after night because you missed someone so badly you couldn't
not
cry?" Tears filled her eyes, which she dashed away in embarrassment.

Ridge glanced away, but not before Emma caught a glimpse of soul-deep pain. "Yes. After my ma died. One night my stepfather caught me crying. He whipped me until I passed out, said it wasn't manly to cry. I never cried again."

Emma's fury vanished, replaced by compassion and empathy. She slid off the rock and went to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He wouldn't—or couldn't—look at her. "It was a long time ago."

"You're still hurting."

"A lot of things hurt, Emma." Ridge finally turned to her and clasped her hand resting on his shoulder. "A person just learns to live with it."

She tried to pull away, but Ridge held firmly to her hand, and she surrendered. "There are some hurts a person can't learn to live with," she said tremulously.

"Can you live with all the hurts Chayton will get from the other children, as well from grown men and women who'll hate him just because his father was a savage redskin?"

Although his words were intentionally cruel, she could hear his concern clearly. "I'll protect him."

"You can't be his shadow every minute of every day, Emma. And as he gets older, he won't want you beside him. He'll have to burden all the narrow-minded insults by himself. Can you do that to him? To your own son?"

She jerked out of his grip, hating what he said and hating him more for being right. "No! I'll take him far away from those kind of people. We'll live off by ourselves if we have to."

Ridge walked up behind her—she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"And how will you survive? What if one or both of you get sick? What kind of house will you live in?" Ridge pressed.

"I know how to gather food and store it, and I have my herbs if we get sick. We can live in a tipi," Emma replied, her voice rising despite her intention to remain calm.

"And what'll you do when someone stumbles across your place? If it's an Indian, you'll be killed because you're white and he'll take Chayton as a slave. If it's a white man, he'll use you, then probably drag you around for a while until he's tired of you. Then he'll kill you, like he killed Chayton because a half-breed's life is worth less than a dog's."

Rage like she'd never known filled Emma and she whirled around, her arms flailing and her fists striking Ridge's hard chest. "Damn you! Why are you saying such horrible things? Why? Why? Why?"

Each "why" was punctuated by blows against Ridge, blows he didn't fend off or try to stop. He accepted them in stoic silence, which made Emma even angrier. How could he be so calm when she was losing her son?

Emma had no idea how long the blind fury burned, and then suddenly it was gone. And like the aftermath of a fire, only barrenness remained.

Her arms fell to her sides and her head dropped. She turned away from Ridge, but had no strength left for anything more. Numbness spread through her and the sunny afternoon became gray and dark as she stared at nothing.