Authors: Connie Mason
“My guess is Kiowa Territory,” Colt replied. “They make their summer camp with their Kiowa brothers.”
“How do you know so much about Indians?” Will questioned.
“I’ve spent years trackin’ them and lookin’ for my sister,” Colt revealed, a pained expression darkening his features. “I traveled from village to village as far north as Colorado and even learned their language in an effort to find Laura. But it was like she disappeared into thin air.”
“I… I didn’t know,” Will stammered, embarrassed. He was stunned to learn that they both had lost a beloved sister to the Indians. “Did you ever find her?”
“Nope. Someday I’ll tell you all about it, Will,” Colt promised, “when Sam is with us to hear the tale.”
“Let’s get the murderin’ thieves,” Will urged, his gun slipping easily into his hand.
“I have reason to hate the Comanche more than any man alive,” Colt said through clenched teeth, “but we can’t spare the time. If Sam is not with this group she’s bound to be with the other. We have to find Jake and figure out how to get Sam back before they reach Kiowa Territory.”
Suddenly a commotion at the entrance of the gorge captured their attention. From out of a cloud of dust rode several Indians driving a dozen or so head of cattle to join the others. Evidently this was the meeting place agreed upon ahead of time by the raiding party. Anxiously Colt studied each rider, hoping to recognize Sam’s beloved face.
“Sam’s not with them, boss.” Colt started violently, turning to find Jake crouching beside him. “I reckoned I’d find you somewhere up here when I saw this was some kind of meetin’ place.”
“Sam has to be with the Indians you followed,” thundered Colt.
“Look closely, boss, there’s nothin’ but Comanches down there. I figured Sam was with those you followed till I got here and found out different. I told the boys to spread out, that you’d be holed up here someplace.”
Darkness was only a breath away but Jake could see clearly the agony and desperation on Colt’s expressive face. No longer could he doubt Colt’s feelings where Sam was concerned. Somehow the feisty filly had penetrated Colt’s thick skin and found a home in his heart whether he realized it or not.
“Christ, they tricked us!” Colt spat, tight-lipped with disgust.
“What now?” Will asked worriedly.
“’Pears Sam was taken directly to their village,” Colt said thoughtfully. “Won’t do no good trailin’ these cattle thieves. Take the boys and go on home, Jake.”
“Home!” croaked Will, aghast. “You can’t mean that! What about Sam?”
“I’m goin’ after Sam, son, alone,” Colt explained as patiently as time allowed.
“I’m goin’ with you.”
“Not this time. I’ll be travelin’ through Indian territory. The Kiowa are as fierce as Comanches and I’ll likely meet up with both of them. I know their language and how these savages think. Alone I have a chance of bringin’ Sam home. Besides, you’re needed on the ranch. Jake tells me you’ve more than earned your keep these past weeks.”
Refusing to be mollified, Will protested vigorously, but it did him no good. Colt had melted into the darkness, and within minutes the sound of hoof-beats vanished too.
S
am knelt in the dirt outside Black Bear’s tipi helping Singing Wind, the chief’s wife, grind corn into flour. She didn’t mind this chore. It was rendering deer hides smooth and pliable that she couldn’t abide. First they were scraped clean with a sharp knife, then spread with a mixture of animal brains and left to soften and cure. Later the mess had to be scraped off. Thankfully, after the first time she had been spared that task and assigned simpler duties by the chief’s kindhearted wife. Her treatment by the Comanches had been a contradiction to everything she’d ever heard about these fierce warriors. Yet she fully believed that the stories about the atrocities they committed were true. What made her different from those hapless victims? she wondered, her apprehension growing with each passing hour.
Sam was convinced she’d awaken one morning to learn the Indians had mistaken her for someone else and would kill her. Or worse, torture her. A shudder of fear rippled down her deerskin-clad back.
That first day in Black Bear’s camp Fawn had provided her with a beautiful beaded doeskin dress and leggings. The workmanship was exquisite, and Sam was stunned to learn that Fawn had made it herself as part of her trousseau. At first Sam had refused such a lavish gift, but Fawn was adamant.
Sam wondered if she would ever escape to return to Will—and to Colt. Did Colt miss her? Probably not, she decided. It stung to think that someone else would promptly take her place should she never return.
In the meantime there was Brave Eagle to contend with. In the nearly four weeks since her arrival in the Comanche village, the handsome brave had made his amorous intentions known. Sam had quickly picked up a smattering of the Comanche language, and with Brave Eagle’s limited knowledge of English, plus sign language, they had been able to communicate. It soon became apparent that the proud brave was courting her. The bold, assessing glances he slanted in her direction were the same the world over and could not be mistaken. His looks spoke of desire and need and an emotion she’d rather not define.
Sam couldn’t begin to explain the Comanches’ reasons for keeping her with them and treating her with respect. Perhaps when Spirit Dancer returned from his vision quest, all would become clear. The holy man had left over a week ago, and when he returned Sam felt in her bones that she would know things that might be better left hidden. She never set much store in superstition, but somehow this defied everything she’d been taught. Sam wasn’t certain she was prepared to face what Spirit Dancer’s vision unveiled, but at least she would escape the uncertain existence in which she found herself.
Sam paused in her task to wipe the sweat from her brow with a tanned forearm. A pair of moccasined feet appeared at the edge of her vision, and she raised her eyes past muscular calves, corded thighs, and massive bronzed chest to gaze into Brave Eagle’s impassive face.
“Greetings, Violet Eyes.”
“Greetings, Brave Eagle.” Sam curbed her annoyance as Brave Eagle devoured every detail of her face and form. From past experience she knew it would do little good to lose patience. In good time she would learn the reason for his visit.
“Spirit Dancer has returned from his vision quest. He is speaking now with Chief Black Bear. Though he is weak and exhausted from his long fast, he is much enlightened and anxious to see you. I think you will be surprised at what he has learned, Violet Eyes. Come, I am to bring you to Black Bear’s tipi.” It was the longest speech the taciturn Comanche had ever made in Sam’s presence.
Rising swiftly, Sam ventured a glance at Fawn before following Brave Eagle. The girl’s tawny eyes were wide and encouraging, bolstering Sam’s courage as she trudged off after Brave Eagle. There was no question of refusing, for Sam was anxious to find out the mystery surrounding her, if indeed there was a mystery. Perhaps when the Comanches learned that she was not what they thought she’d be allowed to return home.
Soon Sam stood before Chief Black Bear and Spirit Dancer, who looked drawn and wasted after his week-long ordeal of fasting and prayer. “Sit down, Violet Eyes,” Black Bear invited. The chief spoke passable English which Sam followed easily. Sam saw that Brave Eagle was to be a part of this powwow as he hunkered down on his haunches beside her. Spirit Dancer was already sitting, his face a wrinkled mask carved in stone.
“Spirit Dancer has returned from his vision quest much enlightened,” Black Bear intoned. “The Great Spirit has blessed him with knowledge and revealed things long forgotten about Violet Eyes and the Comanches.”
Sam sucked in her breath, waiting, anticipating, speculating. Did Black Bear look at her with more fondness than usual? There was a spark of some profound emotion in the dark depths of his eyes. More confusing was Brave Eagle’s uncharacteristic behavior. Why did he keep looking at her in such a proprietary manner?
Black Bear cleared his throat, fixed Sam with a piercing stare, and asked in a commanding voice, “Tell me about your mother.”
Confusion numbed Sam’s senses. Her mother? What did that gentle creature have to do with all mis? “My mother was Elizabeth Ashley from Virginia. She died birthing my brother Will.”
Suddenly Spirit Dancer came out of his trancelike state as he pointed a bony finger at her. “Not so, Violet Eyes. Your brother’s mother was Elizabeth Ashley. Your mother was a beautiful Comanche maiden named Shy Deer. The spirits do not lie. My vision pointed the way, and my memory of the past provided the answers.”
“That’s not true!” Sam refuted hotly, probing her brain to recall the beautiful blond angel who had been her mother. But all her searching provided were vague memories of gentle hands, a sweet voice, and sad blue eyes. Sam had been only six when Elizabeth died giving birth to Will.
“Your mother was Shy Deer,” Spirit Dancer repeated with a conviction that stunned Sam. “Once, she was the chosen bride of Chief Black Bear.”
Sam’s eyes swung to Black Bear. “Then I can’t be Shy Deer’s daughter. William Howard is my father.”
“True, Violet Eyes, William Howard is your father,” Spirit Dancer acknowledged, his voice dry and raspy. “Clear your mind of all you believe to be true and listen to Black Bear’s tale. Afterwards, no doubt will remain in your heart or mind about your heritage.”
Black Bear began speaking in a singsong voice heavy with sadness, his eyes closed, his body moving to a silent rhythm. “Shy Deer was a virtuous young Comanche maiden. Her gentleness and beauty appealed to me and I desired her. She was a chieftain’s daughter, dutiful and obedient to her father and compliant to his wishes. It was time I took a wife, and when I expressed a desire to join with Shy Deer her father was agreeable and arrangements were quickly made. We were to be joined on the next full moon. Her bride’s price was ten ponies, and I considered her worthy of the high price. I fell deeply in love and assumed Shy Deer shared my feelings.”
Sam searched the proud chief’s lined face and thought he must have resembled Brave Eagle in his youth. He still cut a handsome figure despite his years.
“One day Shy Deer and another maiden wandered far from camp gathering wood. It was winter and we were camped far south of here. Catastrophe struck when Shy Deer was bitten by a rattlesnake. The maiden with her ran for help, but they had roamed a long way from the village. In the meantime Shy Deer was found by a man rounding up stray cattle. He knew he must help her or she would die. He carried her to his home.
“When I learned Shy Deer had been stricken, I immediately set out with braves from the village to the place described by her companion. When we arrived it was as if she had disappeared into thin air. I was devastated when no amount of searching led us to my love. For many moons I refused to consider another woman until I learned Shy Deer’s fate.” His voice broke, and Spirit Dancer took up the tale.
“William Howard took Shy Deer to his ranch and saved her life. During her long convalescence the two fell deeply in love. But being the dutiful daughter that she was, Shy Deer eventually convinced your father to take her back to her village so she might fulfill her destiny as Black Bear’s wife. It must have been painful for your father, but he could not keep her against her will.
“Shortly before the wedding ceremony joining Shy Deer to Black Bear, she found herself with child. She was too honorable to enter into a marriage with Black Bear under those circumstances and confided in her father.”
Black Bear struggled for composure as he continued the story. “I still would have taken Shy Deer to wife and accepted her child, but she refused, saying it would bring dishonor to me. Her father, Walks Tall, was a proud man and cast her from the tribe. She lived on the fringes of the village, eating scraps and surviving on her own. In due time her child was born. A healthy girl with violet eyes. I felt great compassion for Shy Deer and her daughter, but the laws of the Comanche are strict.”
“I was that baby,” breathed Sam, her voice trembling with emotion. “But what happened to Shy Deer, and how did I end up with my father?”
“One day the village was attacked by soldiers. No one but women, children, and old men were in camp, the others were hunting buffalo,” Spirit Dancer said, looking twenty years into the past. “From her tipi at the edge of the village Shy Deer saw her mother struck down. She hid you in the forest and rushed to her mother’s aid, only to be struck down herself and left for dead. But she wasn’t dead. Somehow she found the strength after the soldiers left to collect her child and bring her to her father.”
“Shy Deer knew she was dying,” Black Bear added sadly, “and could expect no help for her motherless child. We knew none of this until much later. Somehow Shy Deer survived the trek to your father’s ranch, dying in her lover’s arms after presenting him with his daughter.”
“How … how do you know all this?” Sam asked, astounded as well as deeply skeptical.
“From your father’s own lips. After Shy Deer’s death he went in search of her father but found the village annihilated and the People scattered,” Black Bear revealed. “Eventually he found our new campsite and told me what had happened when he learned Shy Deer’s parents had both died in the raid. He said Shy Deer was buried on his property and announced his intention to keep his child. Because Shy Deer had once meant so much to me, I allowed your father to go in peace to raise then-daughter as Shy Deer would wish. In the ensuing years we heard nothing more of the Howard family until Spirit Dancer’s vision foretold your coming. Shy Deer and her child were all but forgotten. It took a vision quest before answers were given and truths made clear. You are the granddaughter of Walks Tall and daughter of my beloved Shy Deer. It is right that you should return to your own people.”