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  For now Brave Wolf would center his attention on Mary Beth. There was still too much left unsaid between them. When he had promised her that he would reunite her with her people, he believed he had seen feelings other than mere gratitude in her eyes.

  He knew that what he felt for her was more than just admiration of her beauty.

  He had wanted to find a woman to make a home with, and he had found her. Now to convince her that she wanted the same with him.

  He found her waiting beside her horse.

  His warriors had dismounted and had joined the others mingling outside his mother’s lodge.

  Just as Brave Wolf stepped up to Mary Beth, he saw the shaman, Many Clouds, enter his mother’s lodge. He knew his brother’s life lay in the shaman’s hands now, and the First Maker’s.

  “Come with me to my lodge, where we can talk in private,” Brave Wolf said. He took Mary Beth’s horse’s reins and handed them to a young brave who held his own horse’s reins. “Little Fox, take the horses to the corral and remove the travois from mine.”

  The young brave nodded and hurried away with the animals.

  Mary Beth realized now that Brave Wolf’s tepee was not far from his mother’s. Just before he raised the flap for her, she noticed a pole stuck in the ground on one side of the entranceway, a pole that she had heard described as a scalp pole.

  She turned to him. “Is this your scalp pole?” she asked uncertainly, for on it were colorful pennant-like streamers of red cloth waving in the wind, not scalps.

  “Hecitu-yelo, yes, this is my scalp pole,” he said, seeing her grimace. “But notice that there are no scalps. With us Crow, taking scalps is not a thing of pride. We take no coup during warring.”

  “Warring?” Mary Beth gulped out. “I thought you said you are a peaceful people, that you are a peace-loving chief.”

  “The only time we take up arms against anyone is when a threat is made against our people by enemy tribes, and that is rare. It is known that if our warriors are forced into a fight, they are always victorious over their foes,” Brave Wolf said proudly. “It is my place to ensure that no warring is brought into my camp. Thus far, we have been left untouched by both our brothers and whites.”

  He took her gently by the hand. “Come inside and sit with me beside my lodge fire,” he said. “I know how tired you are. The weariness shows in your eyes.”

  “Yes, I am sorely tired,” she said softly, trying not to let him see her reaction to his holding her hand.

  The touch of his flesh against hers made her heart soar in a way that was new to her. She had never truly loved before.

  She only wished it were possible for them to be free to love. But surely it was as taboo among his people for him to love a white woman as it was among hers for her to love a red man.

  And . . . she had just lost a husband. She felt ashamed to have fallen in love when Lloyd was in his grave for such a short time.

  And her thoughts should be on her son.

  Yes, she did feel ashamed, but also more alive than ever before in her life. And it was all because of one man. Brave Wolf.

  She went inside with him and he gently pulled her down onto a thick pallet of pelts beside the smoldering fire. She watched as he added wood to the slow-burning flames, then sat down beside the fire opposite her.

  She again wondered whether he might have a wife. She looked quickly around and saw no signs of a woman living with him. Surely that meant he wasn’t married.

  If he was, and she had fallen in love with a married man, she would want to die, for surely feelings such as she had for Brave Wolf could not come twice in one’s lifetime.

  She made herself stop thinking such things. She would find out in time whether he was married, or had children.

  “So many of your people seemed unhappy to see your brother brought home,” Mary Beth said as she tried to find a way to make small talk with him before she asked him whether he was married, and when he was going to search for her son as he had promised to do.

  She felt that he would have a better chance of finding David than the soldiers at Fort Henry, for surely an Indian could find other Indian camps much better than whites.

  This was Indian land. Surely Indians could find a lost boy on it much more quickly than soldiers who were new to the area.

  “His return troubles me also,” Brave Wolf said, slowly nodding. “It was so wrong for my brother to ride with washechu, white pony soldiers, especially the one all red men called Yellow Hair. Custer was hated by us all. He is known far and wide for his atrocities against our people.”

  A warrior’s voice outside the tepee drew both Mary Beth and Brave Wolf’s eyes to the entranceway.

  “Chief Brave Wolf, there are some of us who need to speak with you about Night Horse’s presence in our village,” the warrior said.

  Brave Wolf rose to his feet.

  He went to the entrance flap and swung it aside. Outside, he found several of his warriors waiting.

  “What is it you wish to say?” Brave Wolf asked, slowly moving his eyes from man to man.

  Mary Beth sat stiffly beside the fire, listening.

  “We have had a quick council and have concluded that it is not good to have Night Horse at our village for very long,” the first warrior said, speaking for the others. “He turned his back on us once before by going to the pony soldiers. If he recovers, what is to stop him from betraying us again?”

  “I believe you are wrong. I understand your feelings, but my brother will stay until he is well. Only then will I ask him to leave again,” Brave Wolf said tightly. “At first I sought him at my mother’s request. But now he is here to recuperate. Brothers are brothers, and for now, no matter what Night Horse is guilty of, I will stand by him.”

  Mary Beth became very aware of the sudden silence that fell among those who stood outside. Chief Brave Wolf had denied their request.

  She hoped that Brave Wolf had made the right decision.

  Chapter Eleven

  Love looks not with the eyes, but with

  the mind, and, therefore, is wing’d

  cupid painted blind.

  —Shakespeare

  Mary Beth was just working up the nerve to ask Brave Wolf how soon he could send warriors out to look for her son when he began to speak himself.

  “I had not known that my warriors so adamantly opposed my brother being here in the village,” he said in a worried tone. “Now that I do, I must go into council and explain further my decision to allow Night Horse to stay, at least until he can fend for himself. Otherwise, I will most surely be sending my brother to his death.”

  “But those who rode with you did not question your decision or your authority.” Mary Beth said, wanting to direct his attention elsewhere . . . to David.

  And she still didn’t know if he was married or not. She wasn’t sure how to ask, for she didn’t want to appear brazen. Anyone who knew her well knew she was anything but that.

  But she had never before met anyone like Brave Wolf; nor had she found any other man who made her want him so much.

  “Those who are questioning my brother’s presence are the warriors who stayed behind, hoping that Night Horse would not be found. Now that he is among our people, they find it hard to accept. And I understand. My brother turned his back on our people. He betrayed the Crow by riding with Custer.

  But my brother must not be judged by us. The First Maker, who made the world, and who presides over it even now, will hand down his final sentencing. Until then, I will stand behind my promise to my mother. I will see that Night Horse is well enough to fend for himself again, and then I will ask him to leave.”

  “I’m sorry things have to be so difficult,” she murmured. She watched as he turned and moved slowly toward the entrance flap. “I admire your dedication to your brother despite the wrong he has done. A brother’s love must be special.”

  Brave Wolf turned and gazed at her. “It was . . . it is,” he said thickly. “Surely no two other bro
thers have ever grown up so close. Thoughts came to us at the same time. Often we had no need even to speak, for our thoughts . . . our feelings . . . were shared. I had always thought that nothing could separate us from each other. When we rode our steeds, our shadows merged in the moonlight. Our hearts beat to the same drum.”

  He raked his fingers through his long, thick hair in frustration. “I never knew when, or why, my brother’s shadow separated from mine, or when our heartbeats changed their rhythm,” he said tightly. “Suddenly one day he was a stranger to me and to our people. Why? I am not certain I will ever know the true cause.”

  He sighed. “I must hurry now to those who wait for me,” he said softly.

  “Will you be long in council?” Mary Beth asked, knowing now that she had no choice but to wait.

  When Brave Wolf heard the softness in Mary Beth’s voice, he knew that they had arrived at a different level of friendship. She was no longer a woman of defiance. She was a woman who trusted . . . who possibly even cared more than she was saying.

  It was in her eyes that she saw him as a desirable man.

  But now was not the time to consider what could be between them. For now, he must concentrate on making things right in his village.

  His people came first. That was why he was chief.

  But one day soon he must make room for a woman in his life. If at all possible, it would be the white woman with the caring heart and pretty eyes!

  “I will be gone for as long as it takes to calm my warriors’ anger. And then I will also take time to go speak with the parents of Two Tails, the one who died as we were rescuing you,” Brave Wolf said, wishing he could take Mary Beth into his arms and tell her that he cared for her and that he still planned to hunt for her child. But he did not dare to be so openly affectionate with her just yet.

  He hoped that soon he would feel free to do so . . . when she showed that she wanted it from him.

  His gaze swept slowly over her, noting that she still wore the clothes that were far too big for her, and yet she had not complained.

  That, too, he liked about her. With one more smile for her, he left his lodge.

  Again Mary Beth realized she’d been left alone. How easy it would be to flee if she wished to.

  But the very thought of being out there on wild land, where wild savages roamed, made her tremble with fear. Instead of leaving, she sat down on the wondrously soft pelts beside the fire and waited for Brave Wolf to return.

  Then she would beg Brave Wolf to send a search party out for her son. Surely his men knew all the local hiding places, since they had lived in the area all their lives.

  Yes, back in Kentucky, she knew every nook and cranny on the land that surrounded her home. She smiled as she recalled a monstrous cave that she and Lloyd had found when she was ten and he was twelve. It was a mammoth place of caverns and stalagmites. It had been like entering another world . . . a place of fantasy.

  Again shame filled her as she recalled what had brought her to this land in the first place. A divorce from a man she had been best friends with since his parents had bought the farm adjoining her parents’ land, when she was five and he was seven. Now . . . he . . . was dead!

  Mary Beth brushed tears from her eyes just as she heard a movement behind her.

  Thinking that Brave Wolf had returned, she turned her head quickly. She was surprised to see Brave Wolf’s elderly mother coming into the tepee, a dress draped over her arms.

  Mary Beth hurried to her feet and smiled weakly at Pure Heart. She could guess why the kind old woman had come. No doubt she had seen how hideously Mary Beth was dressed and wanted to turn her back into a lady.

  “On his way to the council house, my son Brave Wolf came and asked a favor of me,” Pure Heart said in just as perfect English as Brave Wolf spoke. She held the heavily beaded dress out to Mary Beth. “He asked that I bring you a dress.” Her face crinkled into a smile. “At one time I was more your size than I am now. Now I am so thin my son says that I am no heavier than a feather and if a strong wind should come along, it would sweep me into the air and carry me away.”

  She gazed at her dress, then smiled again at Mary Beth. “I took this dress from those I wore when I was young and pretty like you,” she murmured. “The dress is now yours.”

  “Mine?” Mary Beth asked, amazed that Pure Heart should be so generous to her, a stranger . . . and a white one at that.

  “It would please me if you would accept the dress,” Pure Heart said. “My son Brave Wolf has never taken a wife, so he cannot ask any other woman to lend you her clothes.”

  Mary Beth’s heart skipped a beat at those words. Now she knew Brave Wolf wasn’t married and the knowledge filled her with sudden joy.

  She could hardly wait to see him again, yet when she did, how would she behave now that she knew he was free to be loved?

  And, ah, yes, she did love him. She wasn’t sure of the moment it had happened, but nonetheless, it had happened!

  Pure Heart stepped closer to Mary Beth and placed the dress in her arms. “Brave Wolf told me of your kindness to Night Horse when he was found,” she murmured. “I, too, would show kindness. This dress is only a small way of thanking you.”

  “Night Horse looked so ill, how could I not have helped in whatever way I could?” Mary Beth said softly, pulling the dress up against her. She was truly glad to accept it, even though she might look more Indian than white when she wore it.

  Then she gazed into the old woman’s faded eyes. “How is Night Horse now?” she blurted out.

  “The fever is less,” Pure Heart said. “And soon it will disappear altogether. Our people’s shaman, Many Clouds, is with Night Horse now. That is the only reason I could leave my son’s side during his time of illness. Night Horse and Many Clouds are in the sweat lodge, where my son’s illness will be sweated out of him as Many Clouds brushes smoke across his eyes with feathers. Thus the evil spirits that are responsible for making my son foreign even to himself will be gone. When Night Horse is wet with sweat, he will be taken to the river where the cold, cleansing water will heal him. Women are not allowed in the sweat lodge or I would have accompanied my son and Many Clouds there.”

  “I hope that Night Horse will get well soon,” Mary Beth murmured.

  Pure Heart placed a gentle hand on Mary Beth’s face. “Brave Wolf sees something in you that is special,” she murmured. “So does his mother, even though I never thought I could see goodness in any white eyes. They are takers. They are selfish. Thanks only to the efforts of my husband and Brave Wolf, thus far the white eyes have not taken from our Whistling Water Clan of Crow.”

  “I understand your feelings, even though it was people of your color who took my husband’s life,” Mary Beth said, swallowing hard. “I know that there is good and bad in whites, and Indians. I’m glad to know that I am among a good people. I do so appreciate your kindness toward me.”

  “I must go now,” Pure Heart said. “My son’s time at the sweat lodge should be almost over. I want to be in my tepee when he is brought back.”

  “Thank you so much for the dress,” Mary Beth said. “And . . . for not seeing me as the enemy.”

  “Anyone with such a beautiful smile and such softness in her voice could surely be no one’s enemy,” Pure Heart said. She patted Mary Beth’s cheek, turned, then stopped and looked back at Mary Beth. “I am called Pure Heart.”

  “I am called Mary Beth,” Mary Beth said, delighted that she had made such a friend in Brave Wolf’s mother!

  Pure Heart nodded, smiled, then turned again and left the tepee.

  Still marveling over what had just transpired, Mary Beth held the dress out before her. She sighed at its loveliness and at the generosity of its giver. She had two special allies . . . Brave Wolf and his mother!

  Yes, she was happy about how things were and she was glad to have the beautiful dress. She threw off the ugly breeches and shirt and replaced them with the pretty white doeskin dress.

  She ran he
r hands down the front, around the beautiful beaded designs, and sighed at the softness of the doeskin. Feeling how prettily it hung on her body, she smiled. She wondered how Brave Wolf would see her.

  She didn’t have any longer to wonder about it. Her pulse raced when Brave Wolf came into the tepee, stopped, and gazed admiringly at her.

  Oh, Lord, the longer she was with this man, the more she cared for him.

  Now that she trusted him and knew that he was not married, she could allow herself to feel things for him that she had never felt for any other man.

  When he stepped up to her and gently drew her into his arms, she allowed it.

  “Mitawin, woman, I cannot help having feelings for you,” he said huskily. “There is so much goodness in you . . . so much love.”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so that their eyes met and held. “My heart tells me to kiss you,” he said thickly. “Will you allow it?”

  The way he asked her, and the passion in his eyes, made her want him to kiss her so badly, yet she knew that it was wrong. Her husband had been dead for only a short while. And David. She should be concerned only about David, not her own selfish needs.

  Afraid of where even one kiss might lead them, Mary Beth felt that she had no choice but to step away from him. She fought the pounding of her heart, the longing she felt for him, and sat down on the pelts.

  She forced her eyes to gaze into the fire, not at him. She knew that if she gazed up at him again, all thoughts but those of being with him would be swept away.

  She would go to him.

  She would melt into his arms.

  There would be such magic in his kiss.

  She knew she must fight against this need, against the wondrous feelings that being in his arms had stirred.

  She knew, as well, that it was not right at this time to ask him to search for David. It would not be right to deny him one thing and then suddenly ask for another.

  For several moments, there was only a strained silence between them.