himself. He scowled and hid behind the evil mask he'd perfected.
He sat up tall in the saddle. I am Otakatay, one who kills many .
He was vile and grim. He sat for a long moment listening to the squirrels rustle in the trees. Branches cracked as a fox bolted into his den. The muggy air filled his lungs leaving the familiar taste of pinecones, horse and earth on his tongue. Here, within the depth of the forest he felt welcome.
He clicked his tongue, urging Wakina on.
The river was quiet, and the chickadees chirping in the trees indicated it was safe to stop for a drink. He dismounted and released Wakina and watched as he made his way toward the rushing water. The horse trotted toward him with a black boot protruding from his mouth.
He pulled it from Wakina's strong teeth. The boot was old, the leather creased and soft from wear. He flipped it upside down. Two holes the size of his baby finger dripped water. The heel was worn down, smooth and shiny.
He thought of the crazy girl with the braid. This must be her boot. He scanned the area for the other one and spotted it by a rock. Both boots were wet and in need of repair. He often wondered why the wasichu didn't wear moccasins. The soft leather moulded the feet and kept them warm. He hung the boots on a branch to dry out. The girl would come back for them.
She was feisty, that one. He didn't understand why she wasn't afraid of him. Why hadn't she run the first time he'd told her to go? Most people never hung around long enough to be told to leave, but she did. And she even wanted to know his name.
His features softened for a moment before he tightened his mouth and narrowed his eyes. He pushed any warm thoughts from his mind. The notion of even one kind thought toward a wasichu was enough to make him sick. He swatted at the boots hanging from the tree, until they tumbled to the ground.
Wakina snorted.
"I will not help a wasichu," he said to him.
Wakina snorted louder and bared his teeth.
He glared at his horse. There was no pity left within him. No remorse for the things he'd done. He couldn't be the soft, timid boy who would sit on his Ina's lap and listen to stories. That person was no more. He was gone and would never return.
Wakina walked over, picked up one of the boots and placed it gently on a rock sitting in the sun.
"Do not touch the other boot, Wakina."
The horse snuffed at him, picked up the other boot and placed it next to its partner.
Otakatay strode toward the rock.
Wakina blocked his path.
He grabbed the reins, and looked straight into his eyes. "You, Wakina, I will eat one day if you keep this up."
He left the boots where they were and went back into the forest in search of a new camp.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elwood paced the length of the dining room. He pulled out his pocket watch. Two o'clock.
"Damn it, Nora should've been here an hour ago to play cards with Joe."
She'd said after lunch. He clicked the watch closed and shoved it into his pocket. He glanced out the window, but there was still no sign of the dark-haired girl.
He eyed the liquor cabinet in the corner. Wine, whiskey and bourbon called to him. He hadn't had a drink since this morning and he'd been hankering for one the last hour. His stomach lurched. He'd been up half the night drinking and thinking about Nora and what it would be like to have her as his wife.
He'd grown restless at the mine, and he was bored with the women at the saloon. He wanted a wife and Nora was the one. She'd add immeasurably to the wealth he'd already obtained. The best part about his plan was he'd be able to take her whenever the need arose, and she wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.
He pulled on the collar of his shirt and undid the top button. Red and Levi were due back from the saloon any minute. The two men went everywhere with him. They were an extra pair of guns when he needed them and they helped keep order at the mine. He needed to collect on a few homesteads, and he'd be taking
He sat up tall in the saddle. I am Otakatay, one who kills many .
He was vile and grim. He sat for a long moment listening to the squirrels rustle in the trees. Branches cracked as a fox bolted into his den. The muggy air filled his lungs leaving the familiar taste of pinecones, horse and earth on his tongue. Here, within the depth of the forest he felt welcome.
He clicked his tongue, urging Wakina on.
The river was quiet, and the chickadees chirping in the trees indicated it was safe to stop for a drink. He dismounted and released Wakina and watched as he made his way toward the rushing water. The horse trotted toward him with a black boot protruding from his mouth.
He pulled it from Wakina's strong teeth. The boot was old, the leather creased and soft from wear. He flipped it upside down. Two holes the size of his baby finger dripped water. The heel was worn down, smooth and shiny.
He thought of the crazy girl with the braid. This must be her boot. He scanned the area for the other one and spotted it by a rock. Both boots were wet and in need of repair. He often wondered why the wasichu didn't wear moccasins. The soft leather moulded the feet and kept them warm. He hung the boots on a branch to dry out. The girl would come back for them.
She was feisty, that one. He didn't understand why she wasn't afraid of him. Why hadn't she run the first time he'd told her to go? Most people never hung around long enough to be told to leave, but she did. And she even wanted to know his name.
His features softened for a moment before he tightened his mouth and narrowed his eyes. He pushed any warm thoughts from his mind. The notion of even one kind thought toward a wasichu was enough to make him sick. He swatted at the boots hanging from the tree, until they tumbled to the ground.
Wakina snorted.
"I will not help a wasichu," he said to him.
Wakina snorted louder and bared his teeth.
He glared at his horse. There was no pity left within him. No remorse for the things he'd done. He couldn't be the soft, timid boy who would sit on his Ina's lap and listen to stories. That person was no more. He was gone and would never return.
Wakina walked over, picked up one of the boots and placed it gently on a rock sitting in the sun.
"Do not touch the other boot, Wakina."
The horse snuffed at him, picked up the other boot and placed it next to its partner.
Otakatay strode toward the rock.
Wakina blocked his path.
He grabbed the reins, and looked straight into his eyes. "You, Wakina, I will eat one day if you keep this up."
He left the boots where they were and went back into the forest in search of a new camp.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elwood paced the length of the dining room. He pulled out his pocket watch. Two o'clock.
"Damn it, Nora should've been here an hour ago to play cards with Joe."
She'd said after lunch. He clicked the watch closed and shoved it into his pocket. He glanced out the window, but there was still no sign of the dark-haired girl.
He eyed the liquor cabinet in the corner. Wine, whiskey and bourbon called to him. He hadn't had a drink since this morning and he'd been hankering for one the last hour. His stomach lurched. He'd been up half the night drinking and thinking about Nora and what it would be like to have her as his wife.
He'd grown restless at the mine, and he was bored with the women at the saloon. He wanted a wife and Nora was the one. She'd add immeasurably to the wealth he'd already obtained. The best part about his plan was he'd be able to take her whenever the need arose, and she wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.
He pulled on the collar of his shirt and undid the top button. Red and Levi were due back from the saloon any minute. The two men went everywhere with him. They were an extra pair of guns when he needed them and they helped keep order at the mine. He needed to collect on a few homesteads, and he'd be taking
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