Chapter 9
SHANE CATALONO pulled the dusty hat from his head. His fingers moved through his thick, dark hair as he scanned the horizon. With every mile he was getting deeper into Indian Territory.
The last of his men, along with the Indian guide he'd hired to track, had disappeared over a ridge just an hour before. Now he wondered if he shouldn't do the same and head back to his ranch, the Triple T. He'd been on the trail for a month in hopes to find his niece, Rebecca, but with every passing day, he was beginning to lose hope of ever finding her.
As the sounds of night closed in around him, he felt uneasy about going it alone. It was quiet...too quiet. He stopped abruptly, listening. Hearing nothing, he continued on, then brought his horse to a halt and closed his eyes. It was then he heard it--the steady beat of a drum.
When he'd received word of his brother and sister-in-law's deaths, Shane had assumed his brother's stepdaughter had been killed as well, but her body was never found among the passengers of the ambushed coach.
It had taken him a lot of work and a lot of money to get to where he was now--hopefully within hours of getting his niece, and taking her home to Brogan...if she was still alive.
His stomach in a tight knot, he gripped the reins and headed south in the same direction. Laying his rifle across his lap, he would give just about anything if the guide and his men were with him now.
As the drums grew louder, Shane slid from his horse and tethered it to a tree. Running at a crouch until he reached the crest of the hill, he dropped to his belly and crawled through the long grass.
His pumping heart roared in his ears. Peering over the edge, his adrenaline raced through his veins as he looked down at the village alive with people. A bonfire lit the camp in a golden-orange glow as the villagers sat around the fire. His gaze scoured the camp, looking for his niece. Though he'd never met her, Shane had received a pretty good description of the girl, but he knew he needed to get a closer look. He was reluctant to get any closer in case he had the wrong camp.
He tried to remember everything the Indian guide had told him, mainly to stay calm, and before he did anything rash, to make sure Rebecca was in the camp before barging in.
He waited what seemed an eternity when he saw a young white girl with red hair sitting among the Indians. An invisible fist clenched his gut. At her side sat a white women, making him wonder if she had been on the coach as well. Or was she a captive who'd been living among the Indians for a while? What if the girl was not Rebecca? He shook his head. It didn't serve any purpose to be doubtful now. That
was
Rebecca down there.
Telling himself to worry about one thing at a time, he tried to relax, but even the relief of seeing his niece alive did little to ease his stress. The odds of getting her out were definitely not in his favor. After all, what good could one man do against a whole tribe? But he didn't want to take the chance to leave for help and return to find the village gone, which from what he heard, was common occurrence. No, he had to put this to rest here and now.
Cocking his rifle, he glanced at his horse that was busy chewing grass, oblivious of the impending danger. "See ya, Spook," he whispered, then taking a deep breath, he cautiously crept down the hill, hoping he lived to see his ranch again, and more importantly, his son.
JORDAN WATCHED Gray Hawk open her gift, a headband she had worked furiously on the days following her return to the village. Having used a lock of her hair, and under Kari's guidance, she had painstakingly braided it with multicolored beads. A feat in itself, since she hated sewing of any kind.
Gray Hawk smiled softly as his long, dark fingers ran across the strands. When he looked at her, his gaze was as soft as a caress, and Jordan quickly turned away. How dare he look at her like that when he had spent the night with Running Deer? Now she wished she hadn't even given him the headband. Yet, as Kari had pointed out, it would appear rude to the others if she gave him nothing, especially since he had saved her from the Crow village. She needed to show some gratitude, no matter how much she hated to.
Any way, it was irrational for her to be so upset just because he had been with Running Deer, but she was angry. Every time she even looked at him, she envisioned he and the Indian beauty together. He'd been so obvious, taking the woman's hand, leading her to her tipi.
"Do you like it?" Rebecca asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Gray Hawk's gaze shifted to Rebecca, and he smiled warmly. "Yes...very much."
Jordan watched him intently as he put the headband on, then moved to the next present. His long black lashes were lowered as he admired the arrows. Her gaze moved lower to his broad shoulders, over his well-defined chest, and then lower still to his muscled stomach. Her heart skittered. Oh, he was a powerful man all right. She was reminded of that every time she looked at him.
Rebecca nudged her side and she glanced up. "I think he likes it," she whispered, a wide smile on her face. "I knew he would."
Jordan nodded, not able to say what she wanted to. If only he would just let them go like he said he might. It was strange, because up to a few days ago, a part of her had actually wanted to stay with him. She had even envisioned being in his arms, making love to him. But now everything had changed. He was no longer the man who had saved her life. He was her enemy again.
And she wanted more than anything to leave.
A loud, sharp cry rang throughout the camp, bringing Jordan to her feet. Everywhere women, children and elders ran helter-skelter for the brush and their teepees as the warriors snatched up weapons to defend their village.
Jordan picked Rebecca up into her arms, the girl clutched her neck in a death-grip. "Don't let them take me," she cried, fear choking her voice.
Gray Hawk raced into the teepee right behind them, his expression intense. "Do not come out under any circumstances." Jordan looked at him and their gazes locked. She knew in that moment that he'd do anything to protect them, and she nodded to reassure him they would stay put.
Kari ran through the flap nearly colliding with Gray Hawk who was on his way out. "You don't think it's the Crow, do you?"
"I'm not sure," Gray Hawk said, stepping outside, throwing the flap down. "But don't move until I return."
Fear coursed through Jordan's veins. Surely it had to be the Crow coming to avenge Lame Deer's death. It only made sense that they would retaliate. They would take Rebecca back with them, perhaps herself as well, or worse, kill them both--or even the entire village. She closed her eyes against the horrible thought.
SHANE CLENCHED his teeth as his rifle was ripped from his grasp. With an Indian behind him and one in front, he had no choice but to enter the camp where only God knew what would happen to him.
Perhaps he'd gone about this all wrong, he thought, as a fierce-looking band of warriors circled him. Their dark gazes penetrating, their stances more than a little intimidating as they stood with weapons ready. Shane didn't doubt for a moment they would use them.
A sharp jab sent him stumbling toward a teepee. The flap lifted and he was shoved inside to an interior that was filled with a combination of fire and pipe smoke. An old man and two younger men watched him, their expressions set in stone. Shane guessed he was facing the chief, who stared at him with a look that made Shane wonder if he would have a chance to explain himself before they killed him. One of the younger men caught his stare and Shane was surprised to find himself looking into gray eyes. A half-breed...who didn't appear very happy to see him.
The old man motioned for him to sit and Shane immediately did as asked. The man spoke to the half-breed in hushed tones.
"Why do you come here?" the half-breed asked in perfect English.
Trying to wipe the surprise off his face, Shane replied, "You have my niece, Rebecca. I came to take her home with me."
Before the old man could utter another word, the half-breed's eyes became hard, pinning Shane to the spot. "She belongs to us now."
Shane shook his head. "I don't think so, partner. Her mother and father have been killed. I've been on the trail long enough to know it wasn't you who did the killing, so I'm not holding you accountable, but the fact of the matter is she doesn't belong to you. I'm going to take her home, and I want no trouble."
The half-breed told the others, then turned back to Shane. "Will she know you when she sees you?"
Shane cleared his throat. "No, she's never met me."
The half-breed's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"They were on their way to visit me when they were ambushed. She is my brother's daughter, and my only niece," he lied, knowing if he went into detail about her being his brother's stepdaughter, rather than his daughter by blood, the chances of having her returned wouldn't be as great. "I'm the only family she has."
Shane shifted under the half-breed's stare. It was obvious by his expression that he didn't like what he was hearing. "I own a large cattle ranch. I can offer her a good life. A life she deserves--"
He stopped in mid-sentence as the three men argued amongst themselves. The half-breed stood abruptly. "My father says that you will stay with us for a while. When you leave, if Rebecca wishes to go, then so be it. But
she
must make the choice." Anger was evident in his voice.
Shane nodded, completely relieved and pleasantly surprised things had gone his way so far. "All right, I agree," he said, though he knew there was no way in hell he would leave Rebecca behind.
"I'll go get her." The half-breed left and the chief signaled the meeting had ended. Shane was more than happy to get out of the cramped quarters. He waited patiently outside the teepee, ignoring the stares that were boring into him from all directions. At least he hadn't been shot on sight. And if he was real lucky, he and his niece would be leaving within a couple of days.
The half-breed returned with Rebecca, a little darling, just like her stepfather had said. She was holding the breed's hand, and seemed reluctant to let go.
Shane bent down to her height. "Hello, Rebecca, I'm your Uncle Shane."
Rebecca stared at him with eyes that held the wisdom of someone much older than five, and he wondered how much she had seen in her short life. "Have you come to take me away?" Even her voice was matter-of-fact.
"Your daddy was my brother, and you were coming to stay with me when you left Boston. I'd like very much if you'd come home with me."
Rebecca backed away from him, bumping into the white woman he'd seen earlier. His pulse skittered seeing her hair was the exact same color as Rebecca's. Could it be that his brother's wife was alive? His hopes were dashed, when she said, "I'm Jordan."
"Jordan was taken by the Crows, too." Rebecca smiled warmly at her. "She brought me back with her."
"It's nice to meet you, Jordan. I'm indebted to you for saving my niece. I hope you know how much it means to me to have finally found her."
Shane could see the maternal protectiveness in the woman's eyes as Jordan's grip on Rebecca tightened. He definitely had his work cut out for him.
"I'll give her a good life, I promise you that."
Rebecca took Jordan's hand, her eyes narrowing. "He wasn't even my daddy, so you're not even my real uncle."
The words stung, especially after he'd spent the last thirty-five days searching for her. The half-breed watched him skeptically, while the woman just looked plain wary. Shane cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm aware he wasn't your father, but he was your stepfather and he loved you very much." Shane hoped he didn't sound as irritated as he felt. From the letters his brother had sent him, he knew they had been close. Shane hadn't expected Rebecca to embrace him readily, but after all he'd endured, he had hoped for a little bit of gratitude. Captive life couldn't be that great, could it? "I'd like to get started back to my ranch in the next couple of days."
"I don't want to go," Rebecca said, looking up at Jordan with pleading eyes. "Please don't let him take me."
He stepped forward. "Oh pumpkin, I didn't mean--"
"Stop it!"
Shane looked up to find another white woman standing before him, wearing a doeskin dress just like the other. Her fair hair was plaited in two braids, her skin tanned to a golden hue making her blue eyes vibrant.
He glanced over at Rebecca only to find her crying. Jordan was trying to soothe her, and the half-breed was watching him with a lethal stare. Shane was at a loss for what to do. Could it get any worse? He had a feeling he was about to find out when the blonde said, "Could I please have a word with you?"
He nodded and followed her to a quiet spot away from the others. He leaned against the base of a tree, his gaze shifting over her. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a woman such as this being held captive in an Indian village, though he could certainly understand why someone would want her.
"Do you realize what she's been through?" The woman lowered her voice, though he could tell it was all she could do to contain her anger by the twitch in her jaw.
Shane lifted a brow. "No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me."
The blonde stepped closer. "She was a slave in the Crow village and treated horribly when she was rescued by Gray Hawk," she said motioning toward the half-breed. "Rebecca's time here has been good, and she has gotten to be good friends with us all. Now you, a virtual stranger come along and say you're taking her away. Perhaps you could give her some time to get used to the idea, rather than storm in here and just take her."
The woman was clearly agitated, and Shane wondered why. He wasn't any threat to her or Jordan. He simply wanted his niece and he'd leave. "I realize you've no doubt become close to Rebecca, and believe me, I sympathize with you and your friend for what you've had to endure."
She glared at him. "Jordan is my cousin."
Shane continued undaunted. "I'm sure you and your cousin have suffered, but the fact remains, Rebecca is
my
niece. I lost my brother, so I do understand her loss. But the fact remains that Rebecca deserves to be brought up with her own kind, not in an Indian village. I will not let her become a squaw." The moment the words left his mouth, he wished he could recant them, for he hadn't meant it as an insult to her.