Savage Spring (31 page)

Alexandria gathered up her horse’s reins and started walking in the direction of the house while Tag caught up with her. “I wasn’t sure if you were still here or if you had gone to see your sister.”

“I’m on my way there now.” His voice still sounded strained and angry.

“I’m delighted you decided to come by and see me before
you left,” she said, covering up the agony she felt at the thought that he was leaving. She realized she might never get to see him again.

“Why didn’t you say good-bye to me before you left Philadelphia, Alexandria? One would have thought you might at least have left a note or something.”

She glanced up and saw he was watching her closely. “I told Farley that I always hated good-byes.”

“So he said.”

“How long will you be staying at Meadowlake, Tag?”

“We want to get started as soon as possible.” He stopped and caught her hand. “I was wondering if you might not like to go with us?”

Alexandria couldn’t believe she had heard correctly, and she couldn’t contain her joy. She hadn’t expected him to want her to go to see his sister with him. Suddenly her face fell. “I can’t just leave. There is no one to look after the farm.”

“I anticipated that. My father knows this man who has agreed to run Meadowlake for you until you return. He is completely trustworthy and will be satisfied to take ten percent of this year’s profits.”

“I…don’t know. I just hadn’t thought…”

“Come with me,” he urged, raising her hand to his lips. “Even though the journey is long and hard, I want you to meet Joanna, and I want her to come to know you as I do. You are my wife.”

Alexandria felt her joy spill over. After what he had just said, there was nothing that would stop her from going with Tag. He might not love her, but she had the feeling that he needed her. She knew that she must not put too much emphasis on his invitation. She was sure he had only come for her because he felt duty bound to. Whatever the reason, she would jump at the opportunity to be with Tag, even though she was sure it would end in heartbreak for her.

“I would like very much to meet your daughter and your sister, Joanna, Tag,” she said, turning away so he wouldn’t
see the tears in her eyes. She had been so afraid she would never see him again. Now, he was asking her to go with him. No matter what the hardships were, she would endure them just to be near Tag.

The mild days of early summer were over, and a hot July sun beat down on Alexandria as she left Meadowlake behind. She rode beside Russell James, while Tag and Farley led the way.

Alexandria admitted to herself that she was frightened at the prospect of facing a whole Indian tribe. Farley and Tag had assured her that she would be safer among the Blackfoot than in her own bed, but still the apprehension wouldn’t go away.

The first week they covered many miles each day. They were traveling at a fast pace that Alexandria was sure she would never be able to keep up. It wasn’t until the third week that she felt they were leaving civilization, as she knew it, far behind. The land they were traveling through was covered by dense forests, and they only saw an occasional farmhouse.

Tag had ignored her for the most part, leaving Farley and Russell to look after her comfort. Alexandria had begun to wonder why Tag had asked her to accompany him. She knew it wasn’t out of any love he felt for her. Perhaps he felt he should take her to meet his sister, since she was his wife.

As they rode across a small stream and up a steep embankment, Alexandria noticed that Tag seemed withdrawn and unapproachable. This mood seemed worse than it had when he been eaten up with hatred for Claudia and Mr. Landon. What was tormenting him now, she wondered.

She noticed the way he held his head high and proud, seeming to stare straight ahead. As if he felt her eyes on him, Tag turned and glanced back at her. She couldn’t read the expression on his face, but she could feel the chill of his blue gaze even from a distance.

Alexandria began to wish she hadn’t consented to make
this journey. She had no way of knowing what would be the end result.

“It will be all right, Alexandria,” Tag’s father encouraged her as he rode up beside her. “Give him time to sort out his feelings.”

Alexandria gave Tag’s father a weak smile, but said nothing. She had come to believe that not even time would bring her and Tag together.

Alexandria lay on a blanket, feeling the hard ground beneath her. As she ran her hands along her legs she could feel the taut muscles that had formed from riding every day from dawn to dusk. She remembered the way her body had ached for the first two weeks of the journey, but after that she had become accustomed to the rigorous pace Tag had set for them to follow. It was as if he were so anxious to reach the Blackfoot village that he pushed them almost beyond endurance. His father and Farley seemed to have no trouble keeping up, but there had been times when Alexandria felt she couldn’t go another mile. She was very careful not to complain, however, for fear Tag would think her weak in comparison with Morning Song.

As they traveled across the vast wilderness, Alexandria saw country she had never dreamed existed. She was overwhelmed by its untouched beauty, certain that some of the sights Farley showed her had been seen by very few white men.

Tag still ignored her, and she felt an ache deep inside, knowing that he must regret bringing her along. He was more like a cold, polite stranger than a man who had once held her in his arms and whispered passionate words to her.

Alexandria didn’t know this man. He was different from
Taggart James or Falcon Knight. Farley had told her he was now Night Falcon, the Indian. It seemed the farther they got from civilization the more primitive Tag became. Dressed in his buckskin clothing and moccasins, he seemed more Indian than white to her. She knew that if it weren’t for his father and Farley, she would feel very much alone—the two men made an effort to include her in everything.

Tag and his father had ridden away from camp before sundown. It was dark now, and they still hadn’t returned. Alexandria sat up and looked across the campfire where Farley was turning a rabbit on a spit that extended across the glowing coals. Smelling the food, Alexandria felt her stomach churn and was afraid she was going to be sick. She had known for several weeks now that she was carrying Tag’s baby. She had tried to hide that fact from Tag, not knowing what his reaction would be.

Farley ambled over to her and sat down, offering her a plate of roasted rabbit and beans. Alexandria could feel the bile rising in her throat, and she quickly turned away. She clamped her hand over her mouth, praying she wouldn’t be sick.

Farley laid the tin plate aside and turned Alexandria around to face him. She looked up slowly into his face and realized, from the twinkle reflected in his dancing eyes, that he knew about the baby she was carrying.

“Why haven’t you told Tag ’bout the baby?” he asked, as his mouth eased into a grin.

“I…don’t know what you are talking about, Farley.” She stood up and turned her back to him.

The old trapper watched her walk toward the fire, thinking she was the sweetest, loveliest lady he had ever seen, with the exception of Joanna. No, maybe she occupied an equally large share of his heart, along with Joanna. He wondered how Tag could be so blind to the change in Alexandria. How could her own husband not know that she was with child when it was so obvious to him?

When Alexandria turned back to Farley, the look on her
face reminded him of the time in the tavern when Tag had rescued her from the sailor—lost and forlorn.

“You won’t say anything to Tag, will you, Farley?” she asked in a soft voice.

He ambled over to her and pulled her into his arms, feeling very protective toward her. “Don’t you fret none—I know when to keep my mouth shut.” He wanted to assure her that Tag loved her and would take care of her, but he didn’t know if that was any longer true. Tag had been acting very strange since they had started on the journey home. He spent most of his time with his father, and he seemed to be shutting Alexandria out. The old man knew Alexandria was feeling the effects of Tag’s neglect, and he wanted to shake some sense into Tag’s head.

“I wish I had never come, Farley. I believe that Tag regrets that he asked me along. Morning Song is dead, but he will never let her go in his heart.”

“Come on back to your blanket and eat something,” Farley urged, wanting to change the subject because he had no words of comfort to give her.

Alexandria allowed him to help her back to her bedroll and she sat down, but she refused the offered food—her stomach still felt too unsettled to eat anything at the moment, and she feared she would be sick.

“Farley, tell me about Morning Song—what was she really like?”

The old man leaned back against the trunk of a tree and was quiet for a long moment. He could feel Alexandria’s need to know about Tag’s dead wife. “She were a pretty little thing,” he reflected. “She were soft-spoken, and her whole world was Tag.”

“Was she very beautiful?”

“I have to tell you that after Joanna and yourself, she were probably the purdiest female that ever walked this earth,” he admitted reluctantly.

Alexandria couldn’t help but smile at his compliment.
“Joanna always comes first with you, doesn’t she, Farley? She is very fortunate to have a friend like you.”

The old man gave her an answering smile. “I’m the lucky one. Joanna and Tag are the family I ain’t never had. I’d do anything for them, the same as I would for you.”

Alexandria realized that Joanna must love this old man, for she herself adored him, and she believed him when he said he liked her also. “Tell me about Joanna, Farley.”

He raised his head and looked at the twinkling stars through the branches of the tall pine tree. “Joanna is like the music to a song. She be as graceful as the bird that wings its way through the sky. When she smiles at you—you feel kinda like you been blessed in some way.”

Alexandria felt a chill pass over her. How would she ever be able to compete with Tag’s dead wife, let alone his sister, Joanna? The baby she carried would never mean as much to him as the daughter Morning Song had given him. She began to feel as if she were an intruder in his life, and she wished there were some way she could return to Meadowlake.

“I am a bit apprehensive about meeting Joanna. What if she doesn’t like me?” she asked, voicing her uncertainty.

The old man laughed. “She’ll like you all right—you needn’t worry ’bout that.”

“What makes you think so? You can’t be sure,” Alexandria said, knowing it was important that Joanna like her.

Farley grinned broadly. “When Joanna hears how you helped her brother, you don’t have to fear, she’ll take you right to her heart,” he said with assurance.

“Were Joanna and Morning Song close, Farley?”

“I’ll be straight with you—they was as close as any sisters coulda been.”

Suddenly, Alexandria didn’t want to hear anymore about Morning Song or Joanna. She knew she would never measure up to either one of them in Tag’s eyes. In coming with him, she had asked to be hurt. She tried to think of something to
talk about that would take her mind off Tag. She had often wondered how a lady like Joanna could be content to live in an Indian village and forsake the life of comfort and wealth she had been accustomed to as a girl.

“What is Windhawk like, Farley? He sounds so awesome to me.”

“There ain’t never been no one like Windhawk, and I don’t think there ever will be again. His people, the Blood Blackfoot, follow him with blind obedience. His enemies fear the mere mention of his name, and with good cause. Windhawk is…Windhawk!”

Alexandria could hear the respect in Farley’s voice as she tried to picture the chief of the Blackfoot in her mind. “I confess I am a bit frightened at the prospect of going among the Indians. Are you sure it is safe, Farley?”

“Like I done told you, you’ll be safer in the village than you was walking the streets of that Philadelphia. No one will harm you. There’s just one person I want to warn you ’bout and that’s Sun Woman, Windhawk and Morning Song’s mother. She ain’t going to take too kindly to you being Tag’s wife at first. You just give her time, and she’ll come ’round.”

Alexandria laid her head against her knees and closed her eyes. “When will Tag and his father return to camp, Farley?”

“Like as not, they’ll be back afore long. We ain’t no more than a day from the Blackfoot village, and I ’spect they are doing some scouting. We’ve been watched ever since afore sundown.”

Alexandria looked up quickly, and her eyes scanned the darkened shadows, searching for any signs of Indians. She felt fear in the very depth of her being, thinking they were watched by hostile eyes. “Who is watching us, Farley?” she asked, moving closer to the old man.

“No need to fret…it’s just some of Windhawk’s Bloods. They’ll show themselves afore too long.”

Alexandria caught Farley’s arm. “Do you mean that they will come into camp?”

“Yep, but you ain’t in no danger. Just stay close to me, and
don’t act scairt—Indians don’t cotton to anyone that shows fear,” the old man cautioned.

Alexandria swallowed past the lump of fear that seemed momentarily to have closed off her breathing. How could she not show fear when her heart was beating so loudly and she felt so shaken? She wished fervently that Tag would return. She knew that with him beside her it would be much easier to put on a brave front.

All at once, as if one of the dark shadows detached itself, an Indian stepped into the firelight, his dark eyes boring into Alexandria. She could feel the chill of his glance, and her spine seemed to tingle. She was unaware that Farley had helped her to stand as the Indian moved slowly toward them. The campfire seemed to glisten off the man’s bronze chest, and Alexandria clamped her mouth shut trying to keep from crying out in fear.

The man wore nothing but a leather breechcloth, and Alexandria felt her face flame with color. When the Indian spoke to Farley, Alexandria didn’t understand the words, since he spoke in the language of the Blackfoot.

“Much time has gone by since I have seen you, old man,” the Indian said. “Many have waited for you and Night Falcon’s return.”

“It is good to see you, Gray Fox. Yes, Night Falcon is with me, but he is away from camp now. He will return shortly,” Farley answered in perfect Blackfoot.

“He will not be coming tonight. He sent me to tell you that he will ride on to the village. Night Falcon has asked me and my warriors to watch over the white woman. We will camp nearby tonight,” Gray Fox said, nodding at the white girl. “I was told that the white girl is Night Falcon’s wife.”

Farley took Alexandria’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Yes, this woman is Night Falcon’s wife. She will be treated with the respect you would show a brother’s wife.”

As Gray Fox glanced at the white girl, he was astounded to discover she had golden-colored eyes. Her beauty became apparent when he stepped closer. “It is good that you are
Night Falcon’s woman,” he said, astonishing Alexandria by speaking in English.

Alexandria couldn’t find her voice, so she merely nodded.

“You will be welcome in the Blackfoot village,” he told her, turning away. Without another word, he seemed to fade into the shadows he had come from only moments before.

“I…who was that?” Alexandria asked, feeling her knees go weak.

“That was Gray Fox. He is a powerful war chief and friend to Windhawk. Tag has sent him to tell us that he has ridden on to the village.”

Alexandria was still staring at the spot where the Indian had disappeared. “Tag won’t be with us when we enter the village tomorrow?” she asked, trying to mask her disappointment.

“No, but you ain’t to worry. You’ll be watched over tonight by the Blackfoot warriors. They will make camp nearby—nothing will harm you,” the old man said, helping her to sit down.

Alexandria wanted to ask him who would protect her from the Indians, but she didn’t voice her concern since he seemed to think she had nothing to fear.

As she lay o her bedroll, she wondered what Tag was doing at that moment. She wished with all her heart that he had stayed with her so she wouldn’t be entering the village with just Farley at her side.

Closing her eyes, she tried to will herself to sleep, knowing she would need all her strength and courage the next day. The wind in the tall pine trees made a strange howling sound, and she felt herself quake in fear. Dear Lord, what was she doing here? She didn’t belong—why had she come to this land that would forever steal Tag away from her?

It was at the first light of dawn that Tag and his father crossed the Milk River at its shallow point and rode into the Blackfoot village. Tag felt a lightness in his heart that he hadn’t felt in many months. It was strange…he had thought
it would be like coming home, but it wasn’t. His happiness came from knowing he would soon see his daughter and his sister. He thought how joyful Joanna would be when she learned their father was still alive!

Glancing sideways at his father, he saw an answering happiness on his face. Tag’s eyes went to the spot where his and Morning Song’s tipi had once stood, and he felt a pang of regret. It would be hard to face the fact that he would never see Morning Song again. Alexandria’s face flashed through his mind, and he suddenly wished he had brought her to the village with him. He somehow needed the comfort that only she could bring him. It was hard for him to realize that she had become such an important part of his life. He would always remember Morning Song…as a dear childhood friend with whom he had shared many dreams and fathered a daughter. Alexandria was his future, just as Morning Song was his past. At the moment, he couldn’t seem to separate the two of them in his heart.

Joanna had just placed Tag’s sleeping daughter in the cradle when she heard the camp dogs barking, followed by the sound of a loud commotion from the women and children. She watched as Windhawk picked up the spear that he kept by the opening of their lodge and stepped outside. She smiled down at Tag’s daughter, who had become as dear to her as her own daughter. Many times during Tag’s long absence she had worried about his safety. She knew that without Windhawk’s strength she would never have been able to endure not knowing what was happening to her brother. Each day she went to the river and searched the horizon, looking for any sign of Tag’s return.

Windhawk watched the two riders as they approached his lodge. Many of his people were following beside them, and he knew immediately that one of the horsemen was Tag. He felt his heart gladden that Joanna’s brother had returned safely. His eyes moved briefly from Tag to the white man who rode beside him, then back to Tag.