Chapter 12 #2
Abby tilted her head in the direction the cowhands had gone. “It’s got the markings of a Salish arrow, but none of my people sent an arrow my way.”
“How do you know?”
“My whole village is dead or gone back to the larger tribal settlement. Besides, it’s not their way to shoot at a woman from cover. That is the coward’s way, the white man’s way.”
Wade stared at the rocky outcropping that the cowhands had rounded. “It wouldn’t be very hard to hide in those rocks. My cowpokes could ride right past a bushwhacker and never see a thing.”
“Let’s go see if the back-shooting coyote has run away.”
“You can be sure he has. But he might have left some sign.”
Wade fastened the horse’s saddle again. The horse now stood calm and steady. Wade stroked the horse’s neck, and his kindness struck Abby. So different from Wild Eagle.
Thinking of Wild Eagle brought something else to mind.
“In the madness of the massacre of my village, I remember the men getting off their horses…to torch the tepees and club a few of the wounded.” Abby glared at the arrow.
“Whoever shot that at me just now might have stolen it from my village. He might be the same one who killed my family.”
Wade looked as grim as death. “Could be. If that’s right, he may still be after you.”
“Or you. Or both of us. We both were there when I pulled off that man’s mask.”
Frowning, Wade reached his hand down for Abby, and she swung up in front of him. It was her designated place, after all. “If you’re right and it wasn’t one of your people, then who else would know how a Flathead arrow looks?”
“My village is…was solitary, and only a small group of us spent summers in that valley. Years ago, my Flathead father and Wild Eagle’s father defied the rest of the tribe.
We would go with our tribe for the winter, but in the summer, we returned to our ancestors’ hunting grounds.
The rest of our people live far to the south all the time, but the land is not so fair as our high mountain meadow.
We hunt and fish and live quietly there.
We don’t run off livestock or steal horses.
We have never harmed anyone, but neither do we mix with the whites or trade with them.
Knowing how we make our arrows wouldn’t be common knowledge. ”
They reached the outcropping of rock. “There’s a very good chance, then, that there is only one group of whites who would have access to your arrows.” Wade swung off the horse, then reached up to lift Abby down before she could tell him she’d manage fine on her own.
“The men who killed my people.”
“Yes.” Wade lowered her to the ground. “And I’ve made men angry enough that they might want to harm me here on the M Bar S, so somehow, my ranch hands might have knowledge of your people.
A lot of ’em are new. If they rode the mountain trails, they could have come upon your people.
Their anger could explain the burrs under my saddle and even someone taking a shot at me.
But why you? Why both of us together? The only thing we’ve done together is see that man and face your angry mother-in-law. ”
Abby frowned. “What is that word, ‘mother-in-law’? What does it mean?”
“Your husband, Wild Eagle—his mother is your mother-in-law.”
Abby nodded slowly. “But Wild Eagle wasn’t my husband. We were to be wed at midsummer.”
Wade stopped studying the crags above and turned to her. “You told me he was your husband. Was he or wasn’t he?”
Abby shrugged, then pointed upward. “He would have needed to be about there?”
Wade caught her by the shoulder and turned her to face him.
“What?” She scowled, annoyed at being interrupted from her search for a path up the steep rocks.
“Were you married to Wild Eagle or not?”
Abby tried to sort the vague meaning of his words. “We were…to be married. He had spoken for me, and the marriage was coming very soon. As soon as we settled in our summer grounds.”
Wade’s hand stayed on her shoulder. He looked into her eyes in a way that made Abby allow his touch when she should have shaken him off. “I…I’m sorry for your loss. You must have loved him very much.”
“Love is…it is not a reason among my people to marry. At least not for me. I was treated well by the Flatheads, but I was not one of them, and they never let me forget it. It was not a choice for me to marry him. Even less so because of my white heritage. In fact, I am much too old by my village’s standards to be marrying for the first time.
And I might not have ever been accepted as a wife if Wild Eagle hadn’t wanted me after his first wife died.
I was given an order. Wild Eagle was to be the future chief of our village.
He could have any woman he chose. It was an honor that he chose me. ”
The concern and kindness in his eyes drew Abby in, made her want to look closer, deeper. Her body swayed, and possibly Wade helped her along because she was closer to him. His grip, with those gentle hands, was firm and compelling.
“Abby.” His voice was a whisper, so soft it seemed to come from inside her, from her own thoughts and feelings. “Do you mourn him?”
Against her will, her head shook just a bit, just enough to warm his gaze.
“Did you let him into your heart, or is there room in there for another?”
She opened her mouth to reply, not sure what that answer would be, but his lips touched hers, brushing softly as if a butterfly had passed by.
Drawing in a sudden breath from the enticement of those lips, Abby waited, watched. Then her eyes drifted closed, and the butterfly returned and landed.
After seconds passed, Wade lifted his head and studied her. “I’ll take that for an answer that there is room. For me.”
Her eyes opened, and her mind began to work again…and her ability to reason. She took two quick steps back and crossed her arms. “That should not have happened.”
“You’re right.”
“You will stay away from… I’m right?”
“Yes, you’re a guest in my home. It’s not proper that such as that kiss passed between us.
I will explain things to Gertie when we get home, and she will become more than the housekeeper.
She’ll become a chaperone. I won’t dishonor you, Abby.
But my feelings for you…” He looked back at his hat. “I won’t ignore them either.”