Savage Hero (8 page)

She had found it embarrassing to seek ways to
relieve herself while in the company of these men. But thus far, she had managed it.

She hurried out of her dress, then worked herself into the other clothes. She sighed heavily when she saw just how big they were on her.

She shook her head slowly as she rolled the sleeves up so that at least her hands were visible. She then bent over and rolled up the pants legs until she felt she could at least walk in them without tripping.

But when she stood up and the breeches fell instantly to the ground, she again sighed heavily. This wasn't going to work. But she had to give it a try, for she understood that it wasn't safe to be seen with these Indians during the daylight hours in her own clothes.

She gathered the waist of the breeches up into a tight bunch at her left side and walked dispiritedly back to where Brave Wolf waited for her.

She saw a look of quiet amusement enter his eyes when he caught sight of her.

He went to his travel bag and removed a long buckskin thong, then tied it around her waist so that she would no longer have to hold the pants up.

“That should do it,” Brave Wolf said. He stepped back and eyed her again. A slow smile curved his lips. “You look like a starved wolf pup.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Mary Beth said, then raked her fingers through her long auburn hair in an effort to remove the witches' knots.

When she had combed out the tangles, she dropped her hands to her sides.

She eyed Brave Wolf in wonder when he took another thong from where he had stuffed it inside his waistband, then stepped closer to her.

“Turn around,” he said softly.

“Why?” Mary Beth gasped, her gaze locked with his. “Oh, no. Don't tell me you are going to tie my wrists again. How on earth do you expect me to eat while we travel? I only have two hands.”

“The thong is not to tie your wrists, but your hair,” Brave Wolf said. He had decided not to tie her again, not unless she attempted an escape. Then he would keep her tied both day and night!

“My hair?” she asked, reaching back to lift its heaviness from her shoulders.

“If left to hang long, the sun will reflect off its brightness, and prove to any passersby that you are not Indian, whose hair is black like mine,” he said softly. “If your hair is tied and held back from your face, then less of it will be seen.”

Mary Beth understood his logic. She nodded and turned to wait for him to place her hair in a ponytail.

When she turned back to him, she saw such gentleness in his eyes, such genuine caring, she felt guilty for having doubted his goodness.

Yet . . . might not that look be forced, as well, to fool her?

She would not trust him totally just yet. He had to prove himself first.

The growling of her stomach was a reminder to
both herself and Brave Wolf that she hadn't eaten. She smiled awkwardly at him, and then he turned, reached down for a buckskin bag, and handed it to her.

“Inside you will find food, but it is best that we go to our steeds now and resume our travel,” he said. He took her by the elbow and escorted her to the same horse she'd ridden before. He lifted her onto the saddle. “Wait until we are on our way, and then eat.”

Mary Beth nodded.

She clung to the bag with one hand and lifted her reins with the other.

She was glad that he hadn't tied her wrists or ankles. He was trusting her to have more freedom.

His trust, his long looks, his concern, told her he did care for her. Perhaps she had been wrong to mistrust him. Perhaps his intentions were good, and he would return her to her own world as soon as he could.

She looked over her shoulder at the warriors, who were now on their steeds, then glanced down at where the fire had been burning through the night. The cooking food had dripped grease into the flames, emitting tantalizing aromas that even now made her mouth water.

The fire was out. Dirt had been kicked over the fire pit to make it look as though no fire had burned there. The blankets were rolled up and tied on the horses. They were ready to set out again.

They rode across level land and hollow hills.
White antelope lifted their heads above the grass as they rode past. The mountain slope was now not far away.

Finally able to eat, Mary Beth nibbled the meat from the bones of what she surmised was a roasted rabbit. At last her belly seemed comfortably full again. She hoped this meal would last her until Brave Wolf saw the need to stop and eat again.

She was sure he would not stop again for hours. She dreaded the long day which lay ahead of her.

The sun was now up and getting warmer by the minute. Back in Kentucky, this season would be called Indian summer.

She gazed heavenward and sighed when she saw golden eagles soaring above her, their wings spread wide. When they were lost to sight, she looked back at the ground. The remains of the rain lay in puddles where there was no grass.

The horses splashed through them and loped onward.

Suddenly Mary Beth stiffened. Fear raced through her as she heard the loud, distinctive roar of a bear.

Brave Wolf grabbed an arrow from his quiver and quickly notched it to his bowstring.

They traveled onward at a much slower gait until the bear came into sight a short distance away, straight ahead of them. Mary Beth froze with fear as Brave Wolf raised a hand in a silent command to stop.

As everyone held still, the large bear lumbered
past them, oblivious to the fact that it was being observed.

Mary Beth waited for Brave Wolf to shoot, and was surprised when he didn't.

“Aren't you going to kill it?” she whispered to him, hoping the bear would not hear her.

“I never kill needlessly,” Brave Wolf replied softly. “The bear has not seen us. It is minding its business. So shall we mind ours.”

“But when it sees us, we will be his business,” Mary Beth argued. “We will be his meal, especially if you have this strange notion that you shouldn't kill it.”

“If it becomes a threat, I will not hesitate to send an arrow into its heart,” Brave Wolf said, frowning at her. “But until he is a threat, be still and just watch.”

“But he doesn't have to
see
us,” Mary Beth said. “Surely he can smell us.”

“Not while the wind takes our smell away from him,” Brave Wolf said. “Relax. It is best that you let me do what must be done,
if
it is required.”

Mary Beth nodded and swallowed hard, still gazing anxiously at the bear.

Brave Wolf brought his horse closer to Mary Beth's. “Do you see how the bear's head is down?” he asked, having decided that if he explained things to her, she might understand better.

Mary Beth nodded.

“That is an indication that he is looking for rodents and insects,” Brave Wolf said, again watching the bear. “See how he occasionally flips over a slab
of rock? I imagine he is looking for ants to lick up.”

“Ants?” Mary Beth said, shuddering. “How horrible.”

She stiffened when the bear began walking toward them on all fours in a strange swaying motion, not looking forward but from side to side.

Then the creature suddenly stopped.

Mary Beth saw why. There were some remains of a dead deer partially hidden amid the tall grass.

The bear rolled the carcass over, sniffed it, then began to dig a hole with its sharp claws and large paws. To Mary Beth's surprise, it soon buried it find.

The bear then used its large paws to scrape the dirt over the deer, totally covering it.

“The bear has buried his find to let it spoil for a while before coming back to feast upon it,” Brave Wolf explained.

“Truly? It prefers spoiled meat over fresh?” Mary Beth said.

Then she sighed with relief as the bear made a wide turn and sauntered away, soon hidden from view in the thickness of the trees.

“We must wait for the bear to get ahead of us before resuming our journey,” Brave Wolf said, watching intently for a possible return of the animal.

Then, finally, they were able to move onward. After some miles they came to a wide, treeless plain, the last straight stretch of land they would
traverse before starting the climb into the mountains.

Mary Beth now guessed that Brave Wolf had a set destination, for he seemed to know where he was going.

She hoped he would reach it before too much longer. Only then could she see light at the end of her tunnel, for until Brave Wolf found his brother, she would be forced to travel with him, instead of being able to search for her son.

“David,” she whispered, and his name caused that terrible ache to begin inside her heart anew.

She was so afraid that she might never see him again. If only he had been fortunate enough to have been seen by a contingent of roaming cavalry and saved by them! She would continue thinking that, for only in doing so could she keep her sanity.

She slumped in the saddle as they rode onward toward the mountain slope. Again she was feeling dispirited and as though nothing in her world would ever be the same again.

She had lost her husband. She had lost her son.

She only wished now to be back on her farm in Kentucky with David safe beside her. There she would find solace.

She regretted that she had had to bury Lloyd so far away from his beloved Kentucky. At least if his grave was in Kentucky, she could have gone and talked to him from time to time. She could have placed flowers on the grave every day.

Now she had no grave to speak over, nor to take flowers to. . . .

“A man!” one of the warriors suddenly shouted. “I see a man on horseback in the distance. He seems ill. See how his head is hanging and how he barely holds onto the steed?”

“Oh, my Lord, he's fallen,” Mary Beth cried when she caught sight of the man just as he slipped and fell from the horse.

The stranger was dressed in buckskin, with long, thick black hair and a face that shone copper colored beneath the brightness of the early afternoon sun.

She glanced over at Brave Wolf, whose eyes were wide with surprise just before he sank his heels into his horse's flanks and rode off at a hard gallop. She was left behind with the other warriors except for one who rode with Brave Wolf.

Mary Beth strained her neck in order to see when Brave Wolf leapt from his horse and sank to his knees on the ground beside the fallen warrior.

When she heard him cry out the name Night Horse, she realized that he had found his brother, and that his brother might have just died in his arms.

The warriors rode in a hard gallop toward Brave Wolf and the fallen warrior.

Mary Beth suddenly realized that she was alone. Her heart skipped a beat, for she knew that she had just been given the opportunity to ride in the opposite direction.

No one would even notice. She could find Fort Henry!

The cavalry could send out a search party for David.

But then she recalled the bear, the cries of mountain lions in the night, the baying of wolves, and yelping of coyotes. All of those wild creatures were a threat to her, perhaps more of a threat than being with Indians who so far, had treated her with only kindness. Instead of fleeing, she hurried forward, stopping when she came a few feet from where Brave Wolf was cradling the fallen warrior's head on his lap.

Yes, surely he had just found his lost brother, and by the looks of things, he might be at death's door.

She slid from the saddle just as Brave Wolf lifted Night Horse into his arms and carried him to a nearby stream. Its banks were shaded by willows, their leaves looking silver as they fanned in the gentle breeze.

Mary Beth watched as Brave Wolf laid his brother on a bank of purple primrose, then reached his hands into the water and brought some out to bathe his brother's fevered brow.

Mary Beth tied her horse with the others, which had been tethered to the limb of a lone tree that stood beside the stream.

She continued watching Brave Wolf, touched by his gentleness and caring toward his brother.

She could not help thinking of David and wondering if her son was being treated kindly by his
captors, or being mistreated, possibly abused. . . .

That last thought filled her with such dread, she turned and ran away from Brave Wolf. Her face in her hands, she stopped and let the tears flood from her eyes. She sobbed.

And then she felt strong arms surround her.

“Why are you crying? Have I treated you so terribly?”

She recognized the voice and knew who was holding her so tenderly.

Brave Wolf.

He had left his brother to see to her welfare. At that moment, she knew that he would never do anything to harm her.

He did care for her.

Touched deeply by his tenderness, she made a snap decision to trust him. She turned quickly and gazed up into his eyes.

“No, it is not you,” she sobbed out. She wiped the tears with the palms of her hands. “It is my son. I am so afraid for my son! Seeing your brother lying there so ill reminds me of how things might be for my little boy.”

“Your son?” Brave Wolf said. “You have not spoken of a son before.”

He was seized by jealousy, for if there was a son, surely there was a husband.

Then where was the husband?

Why had he not protected her better? If she were Brave Wolf's woman, he would have guarded her with his life.

“I didn't tell you because . . . because . . . I
wasn't sure if I could trust you with such information,” she murmured. She wiped her eyes dry.

“And now you can?” Brave Wolf asked softly. He placed his hands at her cheeks, causing her to gaze into his eyes again. “Why do you trust me now when you would not before?”

“Because, oh, because . . .” she began, then sighed heavily. “Just because.”

She looked past him at his brother, then looked into Brave Wolf's eyes again. “Because you left your brother and came to me when you heard me crying,” she blurted out. “That proves that you care, truly care for me.”