LITMIR.BIZ

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and, therefore, trouble. What of Deer Woman?”

      “She lays claim to my heart, but I have told her that she pines for the wrong warrior. She does not hold my heart.“ Wolf slid his hands beneath Cante Tinza’s small shoulders and long, curved thighs, lifting her upward. As her head lolled against her chest, something old and hurting broke loose in Wolf’s chest. In the past four seasons, his heart had been cruelly torn with the loss of half his family at the hands of the greedy wasicuns who killed for the gold metal that peppered the Black Hills. As Cante Tinza’s cheek pressed against the region of his aching heart, he felt comfort for the first time since then.

      “Ho! You make yourself twice as much trouble, Black Wolf. Deer Woman won’t take kindly to this wasicun sharing your robes and tepee,” Badger Mouth scolded.

      Walking carefully toward his ebony mare, Wolf ignored the chief’s warning. Deer Woman was an eighteen-year-old maiden who had fallen madly in love with him years ago. He’d never invited her affections, yet she constantly hinted that she’d like to be his wife. He wanted a mature woman for a wife—not a child in a woman’s body. Swift Elk, a brave who had yet to count coup, could marry her, he told himself. He was as young as she, and pined equally to have Deer Woman for his wife, yet she foolishly spurned his advances.

      “I will take this woman as I would any injured person into my lodge for care,” Wolf reminded the chief sharply. One of the older warriors, Tall Crane, held the woman as Black Wolf mounted Wiyaka. Wolf saw Tall Crane’s reaction to Cante Tinza as he patiently held her, waiting to transfer her to Wolfe’s arms once again. Did she have the ability to break down hated barriers with just her small form and fiery hair? Taking the woman from Tall Crane, Wolf settled her across his thighs, her body leaning against his.

      “Who is she?“ Tall Crane wanted to know.

      “A stranger.“ In more ways than one, Wolf thought wryly.

      “Do you intend to keep her?”

      “As a prize of war?”

      “Yes.”

      Wolf saw Tall Crane’s unbridled interest in the woman. Less than two seasons ago, he had lost his wife and son to an attack by the Crow. Since then, the warrior had been lonely, and in need of a family again. Although Tall Crane was well thought of in the village, and a good hunter, Wolf felt suddenly protective of Cante Tinza. “She is mine.”

      A sly smile crossed Tall Crane’s ample features, his chocolate eyes dancing with amusement. “Ah, so the wapiya finally takes a woman. Many maids will have their hearts broken to see you ride into the village with this red-haired one in your arms as your chosen mate. No doubt you will train her in the medicine ways to help our people?”

      Uncomfortable at the prospect of all the problems Cante Tinza would cause him because of his unexpected decision, Wolf glanced over at the gangling warrior, who rode a bay gelding. “If her hair is any sign, she will do exactly as she wants.”

      Laughing heartily, Tall Crane slapped Wolf on the back. “Well stated, my friend. A woman with hair the color of fire. Are you blessed or cursed, I wonder?”

      Wolf wasn’t sure. “She may not live long enough for either of us to know that answer.”

      Sobering, Tall Crane nodded. “Evening Star said she is a warrioress. I honor her for that. I do not care if she has white skin. If she helped save our women and children, then I consider her one of us.”

      Wolf glanced over at him. “Half the village will hate and distrust her. The other half will be wooed by her red hair, just as you have been.”

      “I cannot deny it.“ Tall Crane frowned. “Deer Woman will take your decision with great sorrow.”

      The sweet, innocent face of Deer Woman danced before Wolf’s eyes. “She is a child.”

      “But with the body and desires of a woman.”

      Grimacing, Wolf said, “I have laid no claim to her. I have made that clear to the chief, and to her family.”

      Picking at the bay’s black mane disinterestedly, Tall Crane said, “Sometimes our heart chooses of its own accord, despite what our head tells us.”

      In that moment, Wolf hurt for his friend. Tall Crane deeply loved his wife and daughter. In a Crow attack by One Feather, ten Lakota had been slaughtered. Even now, he could see the grief in Tall Crane’s dark eyes. “There are four maids who look for husbands now in our village. Can you not soothe your heart with one of them?“ Wolf asked quietly.

      Patting his mount’s neck, Tall Crane shrugged. “None stirs my heart. I would do these fine maids an injustice by pretending otherwise.“ A sparkle came to his eyes. “Now, this red-haired one stirs me. She interests me.”

      A slight smile softened the line of Wolf’s thinned mouth. “There is spirit and courage in this one,” he agreed.

      “I honor your choice, my friend.“ And then the spark died in Tall Crane’s eyes. “But be careful. There are many who will hate her if she survives.”

      “If you speak of Deer Woman’s reaction…I find her incapable of hurting anything or anyone.”

      “She is as gentle as a butterfly,” Tall Crane agreed, “but do not be dissuaded by her demeanor. Thus far, no one has challenged her claim on you.”

      “Deer Woman will be disappointed, but she would never lift a hand in anger toward me or this red-haired one.“ There were too many other concerns for Wolf to think about. The village had to be moved immediately. The women and children injured in the attack would need continued care and attention.

      “I do not envy your position, Wolf. Your responsibilities are many besides having a heartbroken maid plus an enemy sleeping in your tepee. Be on guard.”

      Secretly, Wolf acknowledged Tall Crane’s wisdom. Looking down at Cante Tinza, he prayed to White Buffalo Calf Woman to spare her life, to bring her back to the realm of the living. Then, another thought struck him. When she did regain consciousness, how would she react to being taken in by him and his people?

      * * *

      A low, gentle chant filled with emotion rippled through Serena’s awareness. The throbbing in her head gradually faded as she focused on the man’s voice. He sang in a language she’d never heard before, and yet the very tone wove a fragile web around her groggy state, holding her, comforting her.

      She struggled to awaken, to pull from the darkness holding her captive. There was light in his song, and more important, her heart revolved toward him, toward the gentle, soothing tones. Gradually Serena became aware of her fingers. She flexed first one, and then another, realizing she was still alive. Flashes of the miners attacking the women and children surfaced. Each time a flash of memory hit her, her stomach knotted in unadulterated fear. And then she would cling wildly to the chanting song, finding a haven of calm within the melody.

      Wolf smiled down at his three-month-old niece as he placed her into the beautifully beaded cradleboard. Softening the lullaby he sang to Dawn Sky, he watched as the baby’s eyes drooped until they closed. The darkness within the tepee was alleviated by a small fire in the center. Smoke rose in lazy wisps toward the opening at the top of the huge lodge. Something prompted Wolf to look across the expanse to where Cante Tinza lay beneath the buffalo robe.

      Rising silently, he covered Dawn Sky with a small deerskin blanket and made his way to the red-haired one’s side. Four days she’d been unconscious. Would she awaken, or die soon? He wasn’t sure. Placing his broad palm against her cheek, he noticed her brow was marred with a frown. Easing the frown from her flesh with his fingers, he lightly caressed the rich crown of her copper and gold hair.

      “Come back, Cante Tinza,” he called softly in his own language. Picking up one of Dawn Sky’s deer rattles, he shook it gently. He moved it from the top of her head slowly toward her feet. Although a child’s toy, it was also used to heal a baby or an adult from grievous emotional wounds. Black Wolf placed his palm inches above the region of her heart and felt heat. That

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