White Owl (7 page)

Paddy shook his head. “It’s no place for you to be, not with all the trouble that’s brewing over there right now.”

Rose lowered her head and remained silent. The last thing she wanted to do was to remind him of the events that had taken place earlier that day. She was still thanking her lucky stars that he had not encountered her with White Owl, or, that he had not caught up to him afterward. But his comment just now about the agency not being a good place for her to be seemed ridiculous. There were other women there, so it was obvious that he just didn’t want to spend time with her.

“Maybe it would be all right for Rosaline to go along this time,” Colleen Adair said. Her unexpected suggestion caused an uncomfortable silence.

Colleen chuckled and added, “What? You don’t think me and Donavan are capable of spending a day alone?” She winked at her youngest son. “We can handle this place by ourselves, can’t we?”

Donavan rolled his eyes. “I am thirteen now, remember? Them Utes are already considered a man when they are my age.”

“Them savages aren’t men, Donavan!” Paddy shouted as he banged his closed fist down on the table.

Rose cringed at her father’s sudden outrage and glanced over at her mother. The older woman met her gaze. She could tell by her mother’s startled expression that her father’s reaction to Donavan’s comment was as shocking to her as it was to Rose.

“Pa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean nothin’ by—” Donavan began.

“It’s okay, boy,” Paddy answered in a softer voice. “I didn’t mean to take my frustration out on you.” He smiled slightly at his youngest son, then glanced around at the rest of the family. “It’s just that I’m worried, that’s all. I didn’t bring you all the way out here just so you all could be butchered by them savages.”

“Paddy, surely you don’t believe it is going to get that bad?” Colleen said. She rose from her chair and walked over to her husband, where she put her hand tenderly on his shoulder.

Paddy sighed deeply and placed his hand on top of Colleen’s. “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting all worked up over nothin’, but when I thought one of them Injuns was on our property today, I knew I was ready to do whatever it takes to make sure that my family is safe.”

Colleen sighed heavily, a trace of a smile on her lips. “You are a good man, Paddy Adair. And whatever happens, I want you to know that we all appreciate everything you do for us.” She glanced at the three young people sitting around the table and added, “Don’t we?”

In unison, the Adair children all nodded and added their words of gratitude for their father’s efforts to provide them with a safe haven here in this wilderness.

For Rose, the reminder that her father was willing to sacrifice everything, even his own life, for
his family only added to the tremendous guilt she was already feeling.

As she watched the tender exchange between her mother and father, she realized that her infatuation with the Ute warrior must end, in spite of the searing pain that had just burned a hole through her heart.

The White River Agency was located in a lush valley known as Powell Park. The Indian agent, Nathan C. Meeker, had recently moved the entire agency eleven miles downriver to the west, so the new agency was still in the process of being built. The move had only worsened the relations between the agency and the Ute Indians. Powell Park was where the Utes pastured their huge herds of horses, and it was also close to their beloved racetrack.

For Rose, the agency was still the closest thing to a real town that she had seen since leaving Denver. Since she was still surprised that her father had actually agreed to let her accompany him today, she was trying to be on her very best behavior. She wore one of her best dresses with a matching bonnet and her white lace-up boots. She had her mother’s grocery list in a small silk satchel that dangled from her wrist. Her favorite gold heart necklace was around her neck. It had been a present from her grandparents who still lived in Ireland, and she cherished the delicate piece of jewelry.

Today, she felt completely in control of her emotions and confident that the dangerous obsession she had for White Owl was under control now; at least, it was when his handsome image was not dominating her thoughts.

When her father had announced that he was taking only Rose with him to the agency, Tate had stomped out of the house and disappeared into the barn. Since Rose had no intention of giving her father a chance to change his mind, she was dressed and ready to go in record time. Along the way, they chatted and spoke of unimportant things, such as the purchases they planned to make at the general store and about the drought that had plagued the area this summer. It had been weeks since it had rained. But it was rare that Rose was able to spend so much time alone with her father, and since he seemed to be in a good mood today, she relished every minute of it.

The agency appeared busier than it had been in the past when Rose had been there. There were a couple more buildings being built, and it was beginning to look like a real settlement. At least half a dozen log structures were scattered along the dirt street. In the center of the small square, the American flag waved proudly in the gentle breeze.

Nestled beside the rolling waters of the White River and surrounded by the lush green vegetation of Powell Park, it was such a picturesque setting that Rose was overcome by the beauty of the area. Once again, she was reminded of how much she
loved it here. She only hoped the settlement would not continue to grow until there was nothing but rambling buildings and houses like the city of Denver had become.

“I gotta pick up some nails, so why don’t you head on over to the store,” Paddy said as he halted the wagon in front of the livery stable. The store was only several hundred yards away, so it wasn’t far for Rose to walk.

Paddy helped his daughter down to the ground and added, “Get some licorice for Donavan and some hair ribbons or somethin’ pretty for you and your ma.”

“What about Tate?” Rose asked as she was smoothing down the front of her flowered dress.

“He wants some bullets. I’m gonna stock up for both of us just in case we get any more trespassers.”

A chill raced down Rose’s spine. She was reminded once again of how foolish she had been to have flirted with the Ute . . . and the danger he represented. But it was going to be fine now, Rose told herself. White Owl had been so confident she would seek him out, but she was equally as positive that she would never go to him. If they never saw each other again, that would be the end of it; that is, if her insides would just quit quivering every time she recalled his passionate kisses.

The thought of never seeing White Owl again began to consume her. Rose’s footsteps faltered. She rubbed at her chest where a hard knot had
suddenly formed. His ebony gaze flashed before her eyes, and the remembrance of his demanding kisses made her lips throb with a yearning she could not deny. As she reached out to turn the knob on the door that led into the little general store, her hand was sweating so profusely she could not turn the handle. She wiped her palm on the skirt of her dress and drew a deep breath before grasping the knob firmly and pushing the door open.

“Well, howdy do, Miss Adair,” a friendly voice rang out. “It’s been a spell since we seen you here. It’s usually just your pa and brother who comes round here for supplies.”

Rose forced a smile and nodded at Frank Weber, the man who ran the store. “Good morning,” she answered in a tone that sounded more cheerful than she felt. “It’s nice to get away from the homestead once in a while.”

Frank reached for the list Rose held and carried on polite chitchat as he gathered the staples that Colleen Adair had written down. It was not until Paddy entered the store, however, that the conversation took on a more solemn tone.

“I hear the Ute situation around here is gettin’ worse,” Paddy said as he selected his ammunition.

“Yep, it’s not lookin’ good, not good at all.” Frank drew a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “Meeker keeps asking for troops to be sent out here in case them Indians decide to start a war.”

Paddy shook his head and sighed heavily. “It’s gettin’ real serious then. I don’t mind sayin’ that
I’m nervous ’bout being out there on my land with my family. One of those bucks was trespassing on my property yesterday. It’s a good thing for him I didn’t catch up with him, or one of us would be dead today!”

Rose felt as though she’d just been punched in the stomach. Luckily, she had her back to the two men, and she remained that way for the duration of their conversation about the deteriorating situation between the whites and the Utes. She knew if she turned around to face them that they would see her agony.

What if White Owl decided to come back to look for her again? The next time he might bring an entire war party with him. The pain in Rose’s stomach increased. She could not take that chance, she realized. He had told her that she would go to him the next time, and now she knew that he had been right.

It had been only a week since Rose accompanied her father to the White River Agency. But it seemed like a lifetime since she had made the decision to see White Owl again. During the past few nights, she had hardly closed her eyes to sleep. Every slight noise made her certain that White Owl was there. She had spent every day searching the horizons to see if he was riding toward her, and as much as she hated to admit it, wishing that she would see him riding his big black stallion in her direction again.

The belief that she held the fate of her entire family in her hands was making her sick. She could
not eat without feeling as though the food was sitting in her stomach like a rock, and her head hurt continuously as horrible images of what would happen if White Owl came back and had an encounter with her father or even one of her brothers. Even worse was the illness she felt when she thought about not seeing him ever again; the opposing fears and emotions were tearing her apart.

She could not put it off any longer. She had to go to him.

Rose knew she could never convince her mother to let her go riding, especially after her father had forbidden her to ride alone again. Her mother was frightened enough to agree with him, so Rose had no choice but to sneak away without telling anyone that she was leaving.

“Come on, Molly girl,” Rose whispered as she led her mare from the barn. The boys were out in the field with Pa, and her mother was happily sewing a new blouse with material her sister, Maggie, had sent to her from Denver. The package had been waiting at the agency along with several other pieces of mail from the Adairs’ relatives.

Rose did not follow her usual trail to Milk Creek. She could not take a chance that her father and brothers would see her, so instead she took a heavily wooded route that she hoped would be less visible. Although it took her a bit longer, she reached Milk Creek before noon and was riding up the back side of the ridge above Powell Park in time to see the Utes’ afternoon horse races.

Rose brought Molly to a stop in a secluded location
among the aspen trees before she reached the top of the plateau. She walked the remainder of the distance to the area where she had first encountered White Owl. In the valley below, the Indians were engaging in their usual games, and it was obvious from their whoops and laughter that they were having a grand time. Rose could not help feeling her usual burst of excitement just to see them as they raced their strong horses around the dirt track.

Without realizing it, she stepped farther out into the open area beyond the bushes and trees as she took in the exuberant Utes’ carefree games. Watching them now, Rose found it almost impossible to believe that these men were capable of the destruction that her father and the others in the area were so worried about.

Rose didn’t realize that she was being watched, not at first, anyway.

But then she saw him.

White Owl had ridden to the edge of the racetrack and was staring directly up at her. She was too far away to see his expression, but Rose had no doubt there was a smirk on his face. She breathed deep and waited for him to ride up the hillside.

He wasted no time in ascending. With every step of his horse’s hooves, Rose’s heart pounded more frantically in her chest. He was bare-chested again today, and the intense summer heat had created a glistening layer of sweat upon his bronzed skin and dampened his long raven hair.

As he drew nearer, Rose was surprised to see
that he was not gloating as she had expected. Instead, he wore an expression that Rose could not decipher, and his dark eyes were so focused on her face that she found it impossible to look away.

White Owl stopped his horse barely more than a couple of feet in front of her, yet Rose still could not move. She continued to stare up into those mesmerizing pools of ebony without one coherent thought in her head. It seemed as if they stared at each other forever before a shout from below finally broke their trance.

White Owl shouted back at the other Ute in his native language. He sounded annoyed. His attention returned to Rose. “Where is your pony?”

Rose motioned toward the area where she had tied Molly. She glanced back down at the group of Indians, who were all watching them now, but strangely, she was not frightened of them. She looked back at White Owl and nodded in response to his gesture for her to get her horse. He followed her and waited quietly as she pulled herself up into the saddle. He motioned for her to follow, and Rose did so without resistance.