Tales of Western Romance (22 page)

The captive women and children came next,
looking neither right nor left.

The enlisted men and supplies brought up the
rear.

At the appropriate moment, Custer rode
forward to greet Sheridan while the band struck up “Garry Owen”.
The sun was shining, the snow was melting. It was a moment of
triumph for Custer, and he made the most of it.

That night, the Osages held a scalp
dance.

Culhane, his hands shackled behind his back,
sat in the dark and watched the scalp dance, but it meant nothing
to him. His eyes sought Winter Star. She sat with the other women,
looking tired and afraid.

He saw Mo-nah-se-tah sitting a little apart
from the others. Her father, Little Rock, had been killed at the
Washita. Custer fancied Mo-nah-se-tah, and who could blame him. She
was a pretty thing, about twenty years old. She was well aware of
the General’s interest and Culhane supposed that explained the
slightly smug expression on her face.

His gaze returned to Winter Star and he sent
her a reassuring smile, though how he’d get her out of this mess he
didn’t know. No doubt they’d both wind up at Hays. She’d be a
prisoner, and he’d find himself standing in front of a firing
squad.

Contemplating his future did not make for a
peaceful night, and Culhane was still awake long after everyone
else was asleep.

It was perhaps an hour past midnight when
Mo-nah-se-tah made her way toward him.

“
You go now,” she said.

“
How am I going to do that?”

Reaching into the pouch on her belt, she
withdrew a key. Moments later, his hands were free.

“
Take woman and go.”

“
Why are you helping me?”

“
Long Hair looks at your
woman.”

Culhane nodded. Jealousy had its uses, he
thought.

“
There is an opening in the back wall.
Two horses wait for you. Go, now.”

Nodding his thanks, Culhane ghosted toward
Winter Star. Covering her mouth with his hand so she wouldn’t cry
out, he shook her awake.

Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Come on,”
he said. “We’re leaving.”

She didn’t question him. Rising, she followed
him across the quiet compound and out through the opening in the
back wall. As Mo-nah-se-tah had promised, there were two horses
waiting.

Culhane lifted Winter Star onto the back of
the smaller of the two horses, then swung onto the back of the
other. Hardly daring to breathe, he rode away from the fort,
careful to keep his horse at a walk. Once they were out of sight of
the fort, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Winter Star was
behind him, then he urged his horse into a lope.

Freedom lay ahead.

Chapter 13

It was mid-morning when Culhane reined his
horse to a halt. Dismounting, he lifted Winter Star from the back
of her horse. Wordlessly, he drew her into his arms and held her
close. Abruptly, he put her away from him and stared at her
belly.

“
What the hell?” he muttered. Although
hidden beneath her shapeless tunic, he had felt the change in her
figure. Her breasts were fuller; her belly a small, hard
ball.

She blushed under his inquiring gaze. “We are
to have a child,” she murmured softly.

Culhane blinked at her. “We are?”

She nodded, her eyes wide and apprehensive as
she stared at him, waiting for his reaction.

“
Star!” Stunned, he drew her into his
arms. “I don’t know what to say.”

“
Say you are pleased.”

“
Of course I am.”

She rested her head against his shoulder.

“
We’ll get married,” he said. “Right
away.”

“
I am already married,” she
whispered.

“
What?”

“
I thought you were dead. Young Hawk
offered to marry me so that my family would not be
disgraced.”

Culhane stared at her.

“
I must go back and find out if he is
still alive,” she said..

“
And if he is?”

“
Then I will divorce him.”

Culhane grunted softly. “Did you…have you…?
Dammit
.”

“
We did not live as man and wife,”
Winter Star said quietly.

Culhane blew out a sigh of relief. “Come on,”
he said, “let’s get out of here.”

Days later, they returned to the banks of the
Washita. Culhane glanced around. There was little left of the
village.

“
Where would the survivors go?” he
asked.

“
I am not sure. To the Black Hills,
perhaps. They could find shelter there.”

* * * * *

As Winter Star predicted, they found the
survivors holed up in a valley in the Black Hills. Winter Star wept
tears of joy when she learned that her grandfather had survived the
battle. Her parents, too, had survived, though her father had been
badly wounded.

Young Hawk had been killed. Winter Snow
grieved for him. Though she had not loved him, they had grown up
together. He had been a part of her youth, woven into the fabric of
her memories.

When the time of grieving was over, Culhane
took Winter Star for his wife, knowing, as he did so, that he had
forever cut all ties with his own people. Riley Culhane no longer
existed and in his place stood the warrior, Braves the Fire.

After the brief ceremony, he took Winter Star
to his lodge. “Whither thou goest, I will go,” he murmured as he
drew her into his arms. “And where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy
people will be my people. And thy God, my God.”

And so saying, he made slow, sweet love to
her, sealing his promise to love and cherish her all the days of
his life with his first kiss as her husband. Vowing with every
touch and every gentle caress that he would love her and no other
for as long as he lived.

Culhane stared into the darkness later that
night, truly at peace for the first time in his life. On the brink
of sleep, he realized that Riley Culhane no longer existed. There
was only Braves the Fire of the Cheyenne. Whether it was a vision
or only wishful thinking, he saw himself in years to come,
surrounded by his children, with Winter Star always at his side.
And life was good.

The End

Daniel Blue Hawk is a man unsure of his place
in life. He yearns for the days of old and chafes against what
others call progress. Then, an unusual solution is offered by a
medicine-man called Fox Hunter. Is it possible to travel in time,
to visit the past? If Daniel does this, will he give up his family
and all ties to the present?

A woman finds an Indian man and nurses him
back to health despite the objections of her ranch foreman. Deeply
attracted to the unusual man, she gives him a job.

Will meeting Lynnie make Daniel’s decisions
about his life easier, or lead him into a danger such as he’s never
known before?

Reckless Destiny

Chapter 1

Bear Valley

1921

I sat on the front porch, gently rocking my
youngest granddaughter to sleep. Marissa was a year old and a more
beautiful child had never been born. Of course, I had said that
about all my grandchildren, and all my great-grandchildren, but
only because it was true.

It was hard to believe that my babies were
all grown and all but one of them had married and had children, and
that their children were now having children of their own. We were
certainly a prolific bunch, I thought with a smile. Mary and Cloud
Walker had seven sons and two daughters; Hawk and Victoria had four
sons and three daughters, and four grandsons.

Not to be outdone, Blackie and Joey had two
sons and three daughters and, unless I missed my guess, Joey was
pregnant again. Hawk’s twin sons had left the valley. Jacob had
gone to Chicago, Jason had moved to New York City. Both boys had
married, and had twin sons of their own. Amanda Marie had married
and moved to Boston. Several of my older grandchildren had gone
back east to college.

Our family get-togethers were louder and
wilder than ever. The teenagers were an exuberant bunch, likely to
bring a friend or two with them whenever they came by. I welcomed
them all, glad to have my family around me. Glad to be a part of
their lives.

It was quiet at home during the week. Our
youngest son, Daniel Blue Hawk, still lived with us. He spent his
days helping his father on the ranch. Shadow’s horses were known
throughout the territory, not only for their beauty and
conformation, but for their speed and endurance. They were much in
demand, not only in Bear Valley and Steel’s Crossing, but in cities
as far east as New York and Boston. When Blue Hawk wasn’t helping
his father with the stock, he could be found in his room, writing.
He was a natural-born storyteller, our Blue Hawk. He had sold
several articles and short stories to magazines back east. He hoped
one day to write a full-length novel.

Still, I was worried about Blue Hawk. He
never complained, but I knew he wasn’t happy here. The sad thing
was, I knew he wouldn’t be happy anywhere else either. It wasn’t
his location that depressed him, it was the century. All of our
children had strong ties to their Cheyenne heritage, but none more
than our youngest son. He wanted to be a warrior. He wanted to live
in the old way. He never tired of hearing Shadow’s stories of days
gone by, of battles fought long ago, of buffalo hunts and horse
raids.

I watched Daniel now as he put a
temperamental chestnut stallion through its paces. My son bore a
striking resemblance to his father, both in looks and mannerisms.
He was good with horses, soft spoken, filled with the same quiet
confidence and self-assurance his father had always possessed in
abundance.

At twenty, Daniel Blue Hawk was tall and
lean, broad through the shoulders and narrow in the hips. His thick
black hair fell half way down his back, the envy of many a young
woman. He had dark gray eyes and skin the color of copper. Women
old and young turned to stare at him whenever he went into town.
Any number of them had tried to win his attention and his
affection. They made excuses to stop him on the street, sent him
cakes and cookies by the dozen, asked him to dances and church
suppers, but to no avail. He was polite and friendly; he rarely
refused their invitations but, so far, none of them had held his
interest or won his heart.

“
He rides like a warrior.”

I glanced to my left to see Shadow standing
near the porch rail at the foot of the stairs. My gaze moved over
him, noting the fine lines around his eyes and mouth, the iron in
his hair. For all his years, he was still tall and straight, still
the only man I had ever loved.

“
He rides like his father,” I replied,
smiling.

“
He is not happy here.”

I wasn’t surprised to hear my thoughts on
Shadow’s lips. After so many years together, our thoughts often
traveled the same path. “I wish I knew what to do.”

“
I have been thinking about it,” Shadow
remarked. “I think he should go spend some time on the reservation
with Fox Hunter.”

Fox Hunter was a much revered medicine man.
No one knew for sure how old he was, though Shadow figured the old
man had to be at least ninety.

“
What will that solve?” I shook my
head. The reservation was a dreary place. “How will that help
Daniel?”

“
There are many other Old Ones who
might be able to help him.”

“
Help him how? What can they tell him
that you can’t?” I frowned, disconcerted by a sudden sense of
unease. “Shadow? What aren’t you telling me?”

“
There are ancient ceremonies that
might be of use.”

I didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
“What kind of ceremonies?”

“
Similar to the sweat lodge,” Shadow
replied. “Similar to seeking a vision.”

“
Have you discussed this with
Daniel?”

“
Not yet.” Shadow came around the porch
and climbed the stairs, dropping into the rocking chair beside
mine. “He is not happy here, Hannah. It is time to let him go, time
for him to find out where his heart lies.”

Chapter 2

Daniel rode the big chestnut stallion around
the corral one last time, then opened the gate and rode away from
the house toward the greening hills. The stallion tugged on the
reins, impatient to run, but no more so than his rider. He gave the
horse its head, and the stallion lined out in a dead run.

Daniel leaned forward, relishing the sting of
the wind in his face, the power of the animal beneath him, the
rhythmic pounding of the stallion’s hooves over the hard ground.
Riding across the open range, it was easy to pretend that the year
was 1851 instead of 1921, easy to forget that Bear Valley was a
civilized town now, with a population of more than two thousand
people. Many of the residents had replaced their horses with
automobiles. Men no longer openly carried guns in town.