Raven and the Cowboy: A Loveswept Historical Romance (23 page)

Raven.

“Tell me what happened.”

“It was only a dream,” he answered, still caught up in the horror.

“I know. I shared the dream with you.”

“I don’t understand. How can that be?”

“I cannot say. Perhaps the spirits willed it, Tucker.”

“Then you know what I did?”

“I know you were one of the soldiers and you rode away from the battle.”

The confusion almost overwhelmed him. “Yes. I couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t do what?”

He used every mental control he possessed to force himself to examine logically what he’d just experienced and answer her. “Kill people. First I was a Confederate soldier, too young to know what would happen in war. I did what I was ordered to do. Toward the end, wounded and sick of killing, I couldn’t find the glory anymore. I went home and found out that the war had cost me my land and everyone I cared about. I just turned my sights
to the west and kept riding. It didn’t matter much what I did. Ended up in Colorado.”

“What were you going to do out here?”

“I didn’t know. Being a soldier was all I’d ever done, except live on a plantation where my father made all the decisions.”

“What happened to your father?”

“He was killed in the first year of the war, before I even joined up with my fellow rebels.”

“But you became a soldier again out here.”

“Yes, I crossed paths with Colonel John Chivington. He was organizing the Third Colorado Cavalry, a new regiment of volunteers who’d been ordered to purge the savage Indians.”

“And you joined.”

“That was my last mistake. I had some crazy idea that if the West were rid of the savages, others like me could come here and start over. I needed to believe in a new future. I didn’t know it meant getting drunk and killing innocent women and children.”

Raven nodded, a sad expression on her face. “You weren’t the only good man caught up in the persecution of Indians. Many of the soldiers had to get drunk to do it, even the bloodthirsty ones.”

“No amount of whiskey could make me slaughter innocent people—or worse.”

“Chivington,” Raven said. “The Sand Creek Massacre. They attacked Black Kettle and his Cheyenne who’d made camp on the creek. You were there.”

“I was there.”

“But you didn’t kill. I saw you. You saved a child, a child that could have been me.”

Then, finally, he understood. She really had been there. Through his dream she’d seen what had happened. She knew the truth.

And she hadn’t turned away.

Raven took his hand, not censuring him, but simply sharing the pain of his memory.

Tucker sat up, careful not to move his arm, but forcing himself leave to the dream behind. He let out a deep sigh. He was so tired. When he dreamed about the past, it seemed to suck the very life out of him, leaving him drained of emotion.

Yet this time was different. Raven’s touch was a kind of balm, an anchor. Finally he acknowledged the connection between them. Not sensual this time, but spiritual and just as powerful. Everything about her touched him in some way. And every day brought a different woman to his side. The determined warrior at first had turned into the mystical spirit woman who changed into a passionate creature discovering how to be a woman. Now came the compassionate healer who made him bare his soul.

Tucker relaxed. It had been a long time since he’d been sure he had a soul. Because of Raven, it had sprung to life again. He didn’t know what he thought about that. Life was easier when he could just drift without thought or responsibility. But was that really living?

Raven could feel Tucker’s tension fall away. She was aware, even if he wasn’t, of the importance of this moment. He had accepted that the spirits could influence their lives, and he was sharing himself with her, willingly, knowing that it was not a past he could be proud of. This understanding signified nothing in the larger picture. It didn’t mean that they would find the treasure. But it was important to her as a woman, just the same.

“Don’t you see, Tucker? All the bad things that happened are in the past. We can’t change that. But we have an opportunity to change the future. We will find the treasure, buy land, and look toward a better life.”

He gave a dry laugh. “I’ve heard that before. Every
commander since Moses has believed that he had some kind of divine guidance. I always thought it was a lie, Raven, that the only thing a man can know and control is what’s inside himself. I’m what I am. You’re what you are. The best we can hope is that I don’t ruin you. Now, let’s get moving.”

As they mounted their horses, Raven felt a great sorrow in her heart for this man who’d lost his belief in the future. For a moment he’d shared his pain, and she’d learned that he was more of a crusader than he knew. Somewhere deep inside of Tucker Farrell was that promise of tomorrow that he’d spurned. He just needed help in finding it. She smiled at the thought of helping Tucker, convinced that, even more than before, their futures seemed entwined.

By the time the sun hit the floor of the canyon, they were almost back to Luce’s cabin. The trip was easier this time, for they’d made it before.

As they rode, Tucker’s spirits began to rise. He’d worry about the spirit world later. For now, he would concentrate on seeking the treasure, though he had no grand illusions that they would find it. And even if they did, they would never be able to get it out and take it back to Colorado. To succeed, they would have to face bandits and Indians, not to mention others who would hear about the discovery.

No, the treasure hunt would be a grand adventure, but the chances of his being able to buy land in Oregon after this was over were about as good as his chances of marrying Raven and making her the mother of his children.

Marrying Raven? Where had that come from? The only time in his life that Tucker had entertained the idea of marriage was when he was eighteen years old and going
off to war. Having Lucinda pledge her undying love and promise to wait for him was part of the grand spirit of patriotism that swept the South. It had been an illusion. Learning that she’d already taken up with someone else when he returned hadn’t even disturbed him.

She’d been part of a dream that had died, and he hadn’t allowed himself to dream again. He’d deliberately closed off all thoughts of marriage, a family, the good things that might have been. Every day had been a new day, a new start. That was the way he had wanted it.

Until now.

Until Raven had invaded his dreams and his life. Now he had difficulty telling what was real and what was part of the spirit world she carried around with her. And, in spite of his skepticism, he kept running head-on into some kind of magic that deepened the connection between them.

He couldn’t believe that he’d shared what had happened at Sand Creek, but he had. And she hadn’t been horrified to learn that he was one of the soldiers who’d attacked the Indians who’d wanted only peace.

He felt dirty and ashamed about that part of his past. Now Raven made him feel strong and proud. Seeing himself through her eyes was hard to believe.

For the last five days, they’d ridden over half these mountains, being chased and being captured. Now they’d come full circle, back to where they’d started, as if they couldn’t escape their destiny.

When they reached Luce’s cabin, Tucker slid off Yank and removed his saddle and bridle. “We’ll rest the horses and eat. I want to retrace our steps and see if we’re being followed.” He led the big black horse into the makeshift corral. He turned back to Raven, catching her just as she slid from Onawa.

“Careful, that ankle isn’t back to full strength yet. We’re going to need all our parts working to get through this.”

“It’s much better.” Raven caught Tucker’s shoulders and held him for a moment. “Tucker, will you do something for me?”

“Sure, what?”

“Until we find the treasure, can we get past whatever there is between us and just be friends, really friends? I’ve never been around a man alone, other than my father and my grandfather, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel. And, like you, I fear this emotion could interfere with what we have to do. But for now, we must make a truce between us.”

“A truce? Sure, and you and I will ride through the streets of Washington City leading a parade when we’re done here. Maybe I’ll even run for political office. A deserter and a do-gooding Indian, won’t we be a pair?”

“I think we would make a grand pair,” Raven whispered and watched him head up the trail on foot. “I think we were meant to be. Some things even Grandfather did not prepare me for, but I will learn.”

Raven was very confused. Sometimes Tucker seemed to be deliberately cruel. She wished she knew more about being a woman. At the same time, a wave of guilt swept over her that she was even thinking about herself when she should be focusing all her attention on her mission.

“Oh, Grandfather, why couldn’t you have come with me? I’m so uncertain.”

You were chosen, Raven. The future is in your hands. Do not despair. The spirits will lead you in the way you are to go.

She’d heard that from her mother’s people for most of her life, and she’d accepted it. Surely the Great Spirit hadn’t intended the Arapaho people to be eliminated from
the face of the earth. But that was what was happening. Their lands had been taken. The buffalo were being severely depleted, and now their own tribal numbers had dwindled to a pitiful few. How was she to change all this?

With a heavy heart, she turned toward the cabin, where she found a bucket to haul water for the horses. Then she brushed them down for the night. After unpacking their bedrolls, she built a fire to prepare a meal, and set a pot of water to boil for coffee. She cut chunks of salt pork and fried it in a skillet over the fire. Next she mixed up flour and grease and salt to make biscuits. Tomorrow she’d search for greens and perhaps a few spring berries, but tonight they’d fill their stomachs with pork and bread.

When the food was done, she walked out into the tiny clearing where she could see the late afternoon sun vault over the mountain peaks toward the west, above the pool where they’d bathed. There it was again, that peculiar formation in the peaks beyond the cabin. There was a slash of light, then a space of darkness, then light again, as if someone had painted vertical streaks of sun across a dark canvas.

The long hours of sunlight had warmed the granite and sandstone rocks. Now, as the sun slid behind them, the cool late afternoon air moved in. Raven couldn’t be still. There was too much quiet. Even the birds had hushed. She started up the trail in the direction that Tucker had gone. Being alone had never seemed lonely before—before Tucker. Now she hastened her step, anxious to find the big tawny man. She needed to see his eyes, even though she knew they’d likely frost over when he saw her.

More and more often in the last few days, he’d let down his guard and she’d been able to see how he felt by watching his eyes. Tense, sometimes stern, but at other
moments he’d unknowingly let a bit of yearning seep into his expression, and once he’d even laughed. Those changes in his eyes had been the measure of the growth of their relationship and what she missed most when he was gone.

She wondered what he thought about her. She wondered about her own sudden reversals of mood. From being the woman driven by her purpose, she’d changed into a woman driven by her newly emerging needs. Change was frightening, but it seemed almost stronger than she was.

Tucker didn’t want a truce. He hadn’t agreed to her suggestion that they be just friends. So, where did that leave her?

They were like a young mare and a stallion meeting for the first time, curious yet wary. Drawn to each other, yet not ready to trust their instincts. She sensed that they were behaving like the youths they’d never been.

Several hours had passed and she was growing more and more concerned. There’d been too much time to think about what happened. Suppose they’d been followed? Suppose this time it was Tucker who’d been captured? She’d started this journey alone, without fear. But now everything had changed.

Where was he? She didn’t want to consider what would happen if he never returned. They were too much a part of each other’s purpose to lose the other’s strength.

Then she heard a whistle. As the sound grew closer she stopped and waited. Then she saw him, moving toward her, a smile across his mouth broadening when he caught sight of her.

“Tucker.” She rushed into his arms as naturally as if he’d asked her to come to him. “Did you see anything?”

“Not a thing. Nobody.”

The moment Tucker’s strong arms closed about her, Raven knew that was what she’d been waiting for all day.
She realized that they hadn’t yet defined their relationship. She was probably taking a foolish chance, but she couldn’t turn away. She needed to be reassured, not about being followed, but about being cared for. For so long she’d been strong for the Grandfather, for their people, for her own sisters who never understood that beneath all her stoic calm was a restless insecurity. This time Raven Alexander very much needed someone to be strong for her.