hadn't seemed crazy. He also had a feeling the woman had reasons no one but herself knew for wanting to find those she'd lived with. But a hundred dollars and the chance to recover his land at a dirt cheap price was more than reason enough to take the job. Bringing Emma Hartwell back to her own folks was the right thing to do, too, even if Ridge didn't care much for her father.
Ridge mounted his horse. "I have to tell the foreman I'm leaving; then I'll meet you at your house in an hour."
Hartwell nodded, relief in his haggard expression.
Emma patted her mare's neck soothingly as she tracked the progress of a black bear and her cub a hundred yards away. Although she knew a sow with her young could be dangerous, Emma also knew that as long as she didn't make any threatening moves or try to get close to them, the bear would ignore her.
The sow stopped and lifted her nose to scent the air. Fortunately, Emma was downwind. She watched the cub rollick in the clearing, oblivious to the dangers surrounding it. He had his mother—she would take care of him.
Unlike Chayton, whose mother had abandoned him.
No! She hadn't. Not voluntarily. When she'd finally recovered physically, her mind had remained sick from the horrible memories of that night. And even if she'd had the strength to look for Chayton, the winter weather would've denied her the opportunity.
But now, with the arrival of spring and the information she'd gained at the reservation, Emma knew the general location of her people. Or at least those who weren't killed the night of the attack, she thought with a bitter tang.
She'd asked about her son, but the old man hadn't known anything about him. If Chayton were still alive, he'd be with the group which was now headed northeast.
Sunlight sprinkled through the trees, dappling the meadow. A droplet on a spider's web captured the sun and wove it into a tiny colorful rainbow. A gift for those who truly saw. The tribe's shaman had taught her that, and
Emma had listened.
As she stared at the water drop, the colors swirled, then coalesced into the image of a brown eagle riding the wind high in the sky. The eagle soared closer and closer until Emma found its keen eyes staring directly into hers.
She gasped and blinked. The image disappeared and only the droplet remained. Someone was searching for her. It shouldn't have surprised her.
Five days had passed since she'd left the reservation. She knew her father would send somebody to find her and bring her back. Shivering despite the warm air, Emma hoped she wasn't leading the army straight to the reservation runaways, only to have the soldiers finish what they started.
The bear and its cub disappeared into the brush, and Emma urged Clementine, her horse, through the meadow. The mare danced nervously, tossing her head at the fresh bear scent, but Emma handled her with a firm hand.
Emma trusted the intuition she'd gained while living with the People. The shaman had said she possessed a second sight, a rarity among the wasicu who did not understand. But Emma embraced her fledgling gift. Now she prayed it would lead her safely to her son.
Ridge knew he was close. After four days of trailing the surprisingly trail-savvy woman, he had come to admire and respect her skills. Few white men, let alone a woman, could travel such distance in such a short amount of time and manage to cover their tracks so well. There'd been times when he'd followed a blind trail, only to have to backtrack and find the real one.
The sun had set two hours ago, but Ridge knew he was near his quarry and had chosen to continue on, hoping to find her that night. He was rewarded for his persistence when he smelled faint woodsmoke on the breeze. Following it led him directly to her.
Ridge surveyed the small camp and spotted her bedroll a few feet from the glowing embers. Her horse was fifteen feet away, hobbled and grazing contentedly. Ridge dismounted and ground-tied Paint. Moving on soundless
Ridge mounted his horse. "I have to tell the foreman I'm leaving; then I'll meet you at your house in an hour."
Hartwell nodded, relief in his haggard expression.
Emma patted her mare's neck soothingly as she tracked the progress of a black bear and her cub a hundred yards away. Although she knew a sow with her young could be dangerous, Emma also knew that as long as she didn't make any threatening moves or try to get close to them, the bear would ignore her.
The sow stopped and lifted her nose to scent the air. Fortunately, Emma was downwind. She watched the cub rollick in the clearing, oblivious to the dangers surrounding it. He had his mother—she would take care of him.
Unlike Chayton, whose mother had abandoned him.
No! She hadn't. Not voluntarily. When she'd finally recovered physically, her mind had remained sick from the horrible memories of that night. And even if she'd had the strength to look for Chayton, the winter weather would've denied her the opportunity.
But now, with the arrival of spring and the information she'd gained at the reservation, Emma knew the general location of her people. Or at least those who weren't killed the night of the attack, she thought with a bitter tang.
She'd asked about her son, but the old man hadn't known anything about him. If Chayton were still alive, he'd be with the group which was now headed northeast.
Sunlight sprinkled through the trees, dappling the meadow. A droplet on a spider's web captured the sun and wove it into a tiny colorful rainbow. A gift for those who truly saw. The tribe's shaman had taught her that, and
Emma had listened.
As she stared at the water drop, the colors swirled, then coalesced into the image of a brown eagle riding the wind high in the sky. The eagle soared closer and closer until Emma found its keen eyes staring directly into hers.
She gasped and blinked. The image disappeared and only the droplet remained. Someone was searching for her. It shouldn't have surprised her.
Five days had passed since she'd left the reservation. She knew her father would send somebody to find her and bring her back. Shivering despite the warm air, Emma hoped she wasn't leading the army straight to the reservation runaways, only to have the soldiers finish what they started.
The bear and its cub disappeared into the brush, and Emma urged Clementine, her horse, through the meadow. The mare danced nervously, tossing her head at the fresh bear scent, but Emma handled her with a firm hand.
Emma trusted the intuition she'd gained while living with the People. The shaman had said she possessed a second sight, a rarity among the wasicu who did not understand. But Emma embraced her fledgling gift. Now she prayed it would lead her safely to her son.
Ridge knew he was close. After four days of trailing the surprisingly trail-savvy woman, he had come to admire and respect her skills. Few white men, let alone a woman, could travel such distance in such a short amount of time and manage to cover their tracks so well. There'd been times when he'd followed a blind trail, only to have to backtrack and find the real one.
The sun had set two hours ago, but Ridge knew he was near his quarry and had chosen to continue on, hoping to find her that night. He was rewarded for his persistence when he smelled faint woodsmoke on the breeze. Following it led him directly to her.
Ridge surveyed the small camp and spotted her bedroll a few feet from the glowing embers. Her horse was fifteen feet away, hobbled and grazing contentedly. Ridge dismounted and ground-tied Paint. Moving on soundless
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