other now.”
Her eyes pooled with … something, he wasn’t sure what. “Newton, we talk to each other before,” she said, putting a hand over his heart. “We have always been able to talk.”
He sighed. She was right, of course. The bigger problem came when he’d brought her to Clear Creek. No one else was privy to their way of communicating to each other – a touch here, a look there. “You’re right. But at least you can communicate better with me, and others are able to talk with you too. That’s worth the time it took, isn’t it?”
Now it was her turn to sigh. She looked at the church and Preacher Jo’s house next to it. “Yes. I would not know your people if we left to be with mine.” She turned back to him. “We stay … if that is what you wish.”
He cupped her face with one hand. “That is what I wish. Because it will keep you safe.”
She gazed eastward at the moonlit prairie, her eyes full of longing. “Then we stay.”
He smiled and kissed her. He needed to kiss that look out of her eyes before she let it take hold and cause her to do something foolish. Like leave to find her people on her own.
Chapter 6
A rya couldn’t sleep . She wanted to toss and turn, but forced herself to stay still so as not to wake Newton. He snored softly beside her, an arm across her torso. She turned her head and studied him in the moonlight shining through the window. He looked so peaceful, so content, and she wondered if it was because she’d agreed to wait until spring to rejoin her people. The question was, could she wait that long?
She sighed and stared at the ceiling. She missed her family, her brothers and sisters, her parents. Oh, she knew they weren’t blood relations, but they had raised her as their own. Perhaps Newton was desperate for her to learn the ways of his people because, now that she thought about it, they were hers as well.
White men had come into her tribe’s camps before, but she had never been allowed to see them. Her father had told her to stay hidden, so she did. Now she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t. Would the white men have taken her away with them, or left her in peace?
Arya looked at the moon. It reminded her of something but she had no idea what. Still, she knew it was wonderful and strange and she’d seen it when she was very young. She could recall the emotions that went along with it: wonder, awe, joy, all accompanied by music and light. It was as if she was in one place, then suddenly in another as soon as the music stopped and the light faded. It was then her life had begun.
A life Newton had taken her away from so she could be his wife.
A tear rolled down her cheek as loneliness crept into her heart. She’d never felt it before and didn’t like it. It stabbed at her and set her to weeping.
“Arya?”
She turned over, not wanting Newton to see she was crying.
“Arya,” he whispered. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She shook her head.
She heard him sigh as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He pulled on her shoulder, rolling her onto her back. “I know you’re still upset. I can’t say I blame you.”
Her eyes met his and she shook her head again.
“No?” he said, reaching over and wiping away a tear. He repositioned himself and leaned closer. “Then what is it, love? Why are you crying?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head again. How could she tell him how she felt when she wasn’t sure herself? “I … I hurt.”
He sat up again, this time in alarm. “Hurt? Where? Do I need to fetch Doc Drake?”
She pushed herself up to sit beside him. “No, no doctor. I hurt in here,” she said and patted her chest. “And it grows.”
Newton’s eyes met hers. They were full of deep concern, and he put one of his hands over the one on her chest, covering it. “So this is what hurts …,” he said, more to himself than to her. He removed his hand, turned and stared at the wall in front of them. “Mine
Her eyes pooled with … something, he wasn’t sure what. “Newton, we talk to each other before,” she said, putting a hand over his heart. “We have always been able to talk.”
He sighed. She was right, of course. The bigger problem came when he’d brought her to Clear Creek. No one else was privy to their way of communicating to each other – a touch here, a look there. “You’re right. But at least you can communicate better with me, and others are able to talk with you too. That’s worth the time it took, isn’t it?”
Now it was her turn to sigh. She looked at the church and Preacher Jo’s house next to it. “Yes. I would not know your people if we left to be with mine.” She turned back to him. “We stay … if that is what you wish.”
He cupped her face with one hand. “That is what I wish. Because it will keep you safe.”
She gazed eastward at the moonlit prairie, her eyes full of longing. “Then we stay.”
He smiled and kissed her. He needed to kiss that look out of her eyes before she let it take hold and cause her to do something foolish. Like leave to find her people on her own.
Chapter 6
A rya couldn’t sleep . She wanted to toss and turn, but forced herself to stay still so as not to wake Newton. He snored softly beside her, an arm across her torso. She turned her head and studied him in the moonlight shining through the window. He looked so peaceful, so content, and she wondered if it was because she’d agreed to wait until spring to rejoin her people. The question was, could she wait that long?
She sighed and stared at the ceiling. She missed her family, her brothers and sisters, her parents. Oh, she knew they weren’t blood relations, but they had raised her as their own. Perhaps Newton was desperate for her to learn the ways of his people because, now that she thought about it, they were hers as well.
White men had come into her tribe’s camps before, but she had never been allowed to see them. Her father had told her to stay hidden, so she did. Now she wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t. Would the white men have taken her away with them, or left her in peace?
Arya looked at the moon. It reminded her of something but she had no idea what. Still, she knew it was wonderful and strange and she’d seen it when she was very young. She could recall the emotions that went along with it: wonder, awe, joy, all accompanied by music and light. It was as if she was in one place, then suddenly in another as soon as the music stopped and the light faded. It was then her life had begun.
A life Newton had taken her away from so she could be his wife.
A tear rolled down her cheek as loneliness crept into her heart. She’d never felt it before and didn’t like it. It stabbed at her and set her to weeping.
“Arya?”
She turned over, not wanting Newton to see she was crying.
“Arya,” he whispered. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She shook her head.
She heard him sigh as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He pulled on her shoulder, rolling her onto her back. “I know you’re still upset. I can’t say I blame you.”
Her eyes met his and she shook her head again.
“No?” he said, reaching over and wiping away a tear. He repositioned himself and leaned closer. “Then what is it, love? Why are you crying?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head again. How could she tell him how she felt when she wasn’t sure herself? “I … I hurt.”
He sat up again, this time in alarm. “Hurt? Where? Do I need to fetch Doc Drake?”
She pushed herself up to sit beside him. “No, no doctor. I hurt in here,” she said and patted her chest. “And it grows.”
Newton’s eyes met hers. They were full of deep concern, and he put one of his hands over the one on her chest, covering it. “So this is what hurts …,” he said, more to himself than to her. He removed his hand, turned and stared at the wall in front of them. “Mine
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