When Passion Calls Page 3

  Feeling torn apart inside, Shane held her close, then eased her away from him. He firmed his jaw and looked down at her. "Deep inside my heart the Chippewa will always be my people," he said, fighting back a sob that would make him look less than a man. "But my true people live not even a sleep away, and I must go and make acquaintance with them again. It has been twenty-five long winters since I last saw them. It is time to make all wrongs right."

  He looked over Cedar Maid's shoulder at Gray Falcon. "Though you do this thing because of ill feelings between us, I will pretend that you do it because you think it is best for me," he said. "I will go. I will entrust Cedar Maid in your care. Do not let harm come to her. She deserves a good life. She is nothing but sweetness."

  Cedar Maid grabbed his hands. "Let me go with you," she cried. "My brother, my heart will break with missing you!"

  Again Shane drew her within his arms. "Cedar Maid, I have no idea how the white man's world is going to treat me, and I am white," he said softly, weaving his fingers through her long, drifting hair.

  "But I suspect how you, an Indian, would be treated. It is not best for you to leave your people. Stay. A husband will come soon and pay a great bride price for you. Be content in being a wife."

  Cedar Maid jerked free from his grip and turned and defied Chief Gray Falcon with fire in her eyes. "It is all your fault!" she stormed. "You know that your father looks down from the hereafter disapproving of this that you do. You must change your mind. Do not force Shane to go!"

  "Stop arguing!" Gray Falcon hissed. He drew an imaginary line in mid-air that signified that was the way it had to be and he would not listen to any further argument about it.

  Cedar Maid spun around on a heel and looked pleadingly up at Shane again.

  "I will come to see you some time," Shane said, lying. Even if it meant abandoning Cedar Maid, he would not look back. He would never try to combine two such different lives. If he were going to be forced to live in the white man's world, it would be as a white man!

  Cedar Maid lunged into his arms again. "Oh, do come often," she sobbed. "My heart will be so lonely with missing you!"

  Two braves on horseback approached, leading Shane's white stallion, already saddled behind them. Shane looked up into the eyes of his best friend, Red Raven, then at the old brave, Flying Wing. It was apparently Flying Wing who carried the secret of where Shane's true family lived. He looked at Red Raven. It was in his eyes that he knew what was occurringand that he would

  soon lose his best friend to the white man's world. He had even painted black marks of mourning across his cheeks and brow.

  "You have come to accompany me to my new world?" Shane asked, making the brother sign by touching two fingers to his lips and swinging his hand straight out from his mouth.

  "Ay-uh," Red Raven said, his eyes wavering. "Now our plans to search for Trapper Dan together cannot be. You will be gone, my friend."

  Shane tensed, having for the moment forgotten the plans of friends. They had spoken often on the journey from Canada about how they would join forces and find the evil trapper. Now even that was being denied Shane because of Gray Falcon's command. Shane and Red Raven were being forced apart, their camaraderie a thing of the past.

  From the moment he said farewell to his best friend, Shane would be forced to eat, sleep, and hunt alone. Though he would be shown where his true family resided, that did not mean that he would want to share the intimacies of his life with them as he had with Red Raven. The ultimate that could be shared between friends would be an enemy found and dealt with properly, and now this would never be.

  Shane would have to search for Trapper Dan alone. But first he could not help but be curious about his true family and where they resided. He would accompany Red Raven and Flying Wing there, but he would choose for himself just when he would go and meet his brother and father face-to-face. Knowing that Trapper Dan was somewhere near lay too heavily on his heart to make plans to establish a whole new life for himself at this moment. His mother's death must be avenged, and soon!

  "Yes, all of our plans must be forgotten," Shane finally said, resting a hand heavily on his friend's shoulder.

  "Let us make the miles stretch out before us slowly, my friend," Red Raven said solemnly. "While we can, we shall cling to this world that we have shared for many moons."

  "Yes, we shall travel slowly," Shane said, nodding. He lowered his hand from Red Raven's shoulder and looked down at Cedar Maid. Seeing her remorseful tears, he drew her into his arms and gave her a soft kiss on the brow, then turned away from her. He gathered together his buckskin bags which held his belongings. Reaching inside one of them, he made sure that the old chief's deck of cards was still there. How many times had they sat before a fire in the chief's great lodge, playing poker, smoking pipes, and drinking whiskey? The old chief had liked nothing better than his smoke, cards, and whiskey after having been introduced to them by a trapper who had come and spent many sleeps with them in the village. Shane had learned to enjoy these pastimes too and had accepted the old chief's cards as a remembrance as he had lain on his death bed.

  Shane would guard the cards with his life. They were all that remained of the chief's devotion and friendship.

  He slipped a fringed buckskin shirt over his

  head and eyed the carved bow that he was so proud of having made himself. He set his jaw firmly, choosing not to take his bow, reminding himself of his vow to make a clean break with the Indians now that he was being banished from the tribe.

  With an angry determination, he slipped his long Kentucky rifle into a leather gun boot at the side of his horse and sheathed a knife at his waist. He secured his bundles of belongings on his horse, then mounted.

  Shane gave Cedar Maid a lingering stare. "Cedar Maid, I have to go now," he said thickly, vowing to himself that those were the last Chippewa words that he would ever speak. "Be happy."

  He could not stand the despair in Cedar Maid's eyes any longer. He wheeled his horse around and rode away, feeling the same emptiness that he had felt the day his mother died. He already missed Cedar Maid almost as unbearably and he had not been gone from her for more than two heartbeats!

  As Shane rode between the old brave and his best friend, he forced his thoughts from Cedar Maid. He was going to be starting a new life again. The first time he had been forced into such a change, he had wondered if he could learn to adjust to life among the Indians. Now, ironically, he was wondering if he could adjust to the white man's way of life. Could they adjust to him? He knew that prejudices existed and that if anyone realized that he had been raised among Indians, he might be looked down upon, as still a part of them.

  He feared many a battle ahead, but surely most would be within his heart and mind!

  His horse was a large, clean-limbed, very swift white stallion. He rode at a trot, occasionally broken by a short lope. Less than one sleep away, if he wished, he could be talking with his true father again. And what of his brother?

  He frowned as he tried to recall his brother's name.

  Josh?

  Was it Josh?

  Did his brother remember him? Or had he given up long ago on ever seeing Shane again?

  Shane could not help but wonder how his brother would react when he discovered that his twin was still alive. Would he be pleased?

  Or would he resent a brother who was in a true sense no brother at all?

  Too many years divided them.

  Perhaps it was best not to return at all!

  Downcast, torn with indecision over what he should do, Shane rode onward.

  Chapter Three

  Shane dismounted in a grove of cottonwoods and willows and led the white stallion to the Rum River, which crept narrowly through the pine forest. Cascading water gurgled in little rills and spills through natural rock gates where minnows flashed in the red glow of the setting sun.

  While his horse drank greedily, Shane sank to one knee, cupped his hands together, and lowered them into the river. H
e lifted his hands to his mouth and drank the water in slow gulps, feeling rather than seeing Red Raven come to stand beside him.

  The time of parting was near. The farewell would be hard. At the age of eight winters, Red Raven and Shane had opened wounds on their arms with sharp knives to mingle their blood. In

  every sense of the word they were brothers; the bond between them was stronger than Shane's with his real brother, whose name he had almost forgotten during the years of separation.

  So many of his memories had been robbed by the passing of time. Only four years old at the time of his rescue, he had even forgotten his own last name! If he had known the name, he would have gone searching for his true family long ago.

  As it was, he had learned to live with one name, with one family of Chippewa. He had never guessed that his life would ever be any different. He had thought to die and be buried in the Chippewa tradition.

  Shane doubted if he could ever feel the same about anyone as he did about Red Raven. They had shared their first hunt, the first vision, and how it felt to be with a woman for that first time.

  Because of Gray Falcon, Shane and Red Raven would never share anything again.

  Shane would never again have good feelings about Gray Falcon, but he would not hate him. Gray Falcon was the son of Chief Standing Tall and the old chief would not want hate between two men who should love one another as brothers.

  But Shane would always resent Gray Falcon for separating him from his Chippewa family.

  His thirst quenched, Shane rose to his feet. Wanting to delay the parting, he stepped past Red Raven and went to the edge of the butte. The river hurried down the gentle slope of the butte and cut across a wide, fertile pasture alongside a split rail

  fence that marched across the land as far as his eye could see.

  Shane looked down upon the green river valley that stretched out below him. A feeling of pride swept through him. His father had achieved great things. Everywhere he looked cattle grazed on the soft green grass. He knew of the longhorns that had been introduced to the Land of Many Lakes by boats, which had carried them from a place called Texas.

  He had seen longhorns before, but never in this quantity. They made a striking sight. Most were coal-black and clean-limbed, their white horns glistening as if polished. Some had bodies so long their backs swayed; their dewlaps swung in rhythm with their steps. They were mightily antlered and wild-eyed.

  Shane looked beyond the cattle. His shoulder muscles tensed when he saw two massive houses in the distance. Flying Wing had pointed out his father's house, and it was as nothing Shane had ever seen before. It was a house built by a man of many riches. Was Shane ready to become a part of such a life?

  ''My friend, it is time for Red Raven to leave," the young brave said, interrupting Shane's troubled thoughts.

  Shane turned slowly to his friend. He willed away the tears that would show signs of weakness in his character. "Yes, it is time to go separate ways," he said, placing his hands on his friend's shoulders. "Though we say farewell you will live within my heart forever. Be happy, Red Raven.

  Find a woman and let her fill your dwelling with sunshine. Soon Cedar Maid will be needing a man to warm her bed. Go to her. She will make a good wife."

  "Ay-uh. Red Raven has been watching Cedar Maid with interest," Red Raven said, smiling at the thought of her loveliness. "Already I have decided on the bride price I will pay."

  Shane's eyes brightened. He dropped his hands to his sides. "You plan to offer a bride price soon?" he asked, his voice displaying much gladness. "You never told me. It is not like you to keep secrets from your blood brother."

  Red Raven looked away from Shane, lowering his eyes to the ground. "It was in my plan to tell you soon," he said thickly. "Never did I expect you would be gone when the time came to share this special secret."

  Shane doubled a fist at his side. "Nor did I expect to be gone," he growled. "Chief Gray Falcon is the most skilled of all at keeping secrets. He must have known for many moons that he was going to banish me from the village of Chippewa."

  "And what of Trapper Dan?" Red Raven asked. "You will still search for him?"

  Shane's eyes narrowed in hate. "You ask a question you already have an answer to," he said flatly. He looked determinedly at Red Raven. "Soon I shall travel through these forests until I find the man with the peculiar eyes. I have only temporarily been sidetracked from this quest."

  "Your search will be a lonely one without Red Raven riding at your side," Red Raven said, then

  suddenly lunged into Shane's arms, hugging him. "Everyone will miss you, Shane. You will come often to see your people, the Chippewa?"

  Shane patted Red Raven on the back, then stepped away. "No," he said firmly, again surveying the land of his true father. "It is over. Never will I return. I have been banished. I shall stay away. It is time to begin a new lifea life that was stolen from me when I had seen but four winters."

  "You do not mean it!" Red Raven gasped. "You will not return to the Chippewa? Ever? What of your feelings for Cedar Maid? You will miss her. She will miss you!"

  "I have spoken," Shane said firmly. "It is up to you to make Cedar Maid forget me. Make her happy, Red Raven. I cannot depend on Gray Falcon to see to her welfare. I believe he sees me every time he looks at her. I cannot trust him where she is concerned."

  "I will make things right with her," Red Raven said, nodding.

  Shane placed a hand on Red Raven's shoulder. "That is good," he said softly. "That is good."

  Shane turned away from Red Raven and once again looked down at the shadowy valley.

  "You are eager to see your true father?" Red Raven asked as his eyes followed Shane's steady stare. "You are eager to own the land? The animals?"

  "No, I am not eager for anything at this moment," Shane said, his voice quiet. "I am filled with sadness."

  Flying Wing, the old brave who had accompa-

  nied Shane from the village, rode up to Shane and Red Raven. He frowned down at Red Raven. "It is time to go," he said. "We have many miles to ride through the darkness. Let us begin now."

  Shane and Red Raven turned and faced each other, then Shane tore the braided buckskin strips from his neck and waist and tossed them to the ground. "My mourning is over, as is my old life," he said. He pointed toward Red Raven's horse. "Go. Do not look back. Go now."

  Red Raven swallowed hard, then spun around and hurried to his horse. Looking straight ahead, he urged his horse away in a strong gallop.

  Shane placed a hand on his heart and doubled it into a tight fist. He looked up at Flying Wing, for a moment gazing at the old chief sitting on his saddle of blankets. "Farewell, old friend," he said, then turned his back as Flying Wing rode away from him.

  To busy himself, Shane began gathering firewood. This was as close as he would get to his father's house tonight. He was not quite ready to test his father's or brother's feelings. Surely they thought he was dead. Would it not be the same as seeing a ghost when they first caught sight of him?

  Perhaps it would be best if he did not even go to them.

  He would take the full night to ponder his best course. Nothing was ever gained by making hasty decisions.

  In a matter of minutes Shane had a fire burning. He looked at the river. He was hungry. He would spear a fish with his knife and fill his stomach,

  hoping that would help fill the emptiness that he felt inside him.

  Once a fish was caught, Shane knelt down beside the fire. But something kept him from cooking the fish. The strange bellowing and moaning of the longhorns drew him back to his feet and to the very edge of the butte, silhouetting him against the blazing sunset.

  He looked down at the restless animals. They seemed to be an extension of his own restlessness. At this moment he was straddling two worlds, torn between two life paths.

  Melanie brushed her horse eagerly. The day spent in St. Paul had been inspiring. She had showed both Josh and Terrance that she knew how to transact busine
ss as skillfully as any man. They hadn't known that she had studied the ledgers beforehand, familiarizing herself with the cost of cattle.

  "Their eyes almost popped out of their heads when I quoted the cost of shipping the longhorns," she whispered. "They could hardly believe it when I told them that it costs about a dollar a head to ship an average herd from New Orleans to Minnesota."

  The bellowing of the cattle drew Melanie's attention from her bay gelding. Placing the brush on a shelf, she left the barn and went to stand at the fence, viewing the animals. Some cows were chewing their cuds; others were licking their calves.

  She could almost smell the cattle's strong, good,

  and wholesome breath. She could hear the placid moos with which each calf was greeted as it came through the gate from the calf pen to suck from the cows.

  Then Melanie looked out at the big pasture. Restless longhorns were tossing their heads high in the air, bellowing and nervously swishing their tails back and forth. It was as though they smelled something in the air that was not familiar to them.

  But what?

  Melanie inhaled deeply, tensing when she smelled a slight trace of smoke, the kind that came from an outdoor fire. Shielding her eyes with her hands to keep the rays of the bright sunset from blinding her, she looked up at the butte in the distance. She gasped and took a shaky step backward when she saw the silhouette of a lone man atop the butte, smoke spiraling up from a campfire behind him.

  "Who could that be?" she whispered harshly. "Why is he alone and staring down at the farms?"

  She glanced over her shoulder at her home. Terrance had left only a short while ago to spend the evening drinking and gambling in town. He had left before supper. Except for the cowhands, who were occupied with their evening chores, and the household servants, Melanie was alone.

  She looked past her farm, at Josh and Jared's house. Josh had accompanied Terrance into town, and she would not trouble Jared with the news that a stranger was closely observing their adjoining lands.

  "That leaves only me," she said, turning her