“They’re getting bolder with every attack,” Luke said grimly. “We’ve doubled the night patrols, but these mountains have more hidey holes than a rabbit warren.”
Dax nodded. “They seem to be moving between Big Pine and Splendor. If we don’t stop them soon, more people will lose everything.”
Running Bear listened intently, his expression grave. This land was in his blood, yet he knew the Crow had as much right to it as his people. Still, wanton destruction served no good purpose.
Shining Star entered with a tray laden with cups filled with steaming coffee. Rachel followed close behind, bearing a plate of cornbread and jars of peach preserves.
The women moved quietly around the room, handing out coffee and offering the food they’d prepared. Though worlds apart in upbringing, they shared a common bond of providing sustenance and hospitality to weary travelers.
Running Bear gave an approving nod as his daughter pressed a cup into his weathered hands. Her heritage dictated she serve elders first.
As Shining Star moved to leave the study, she hesitated, glancing back at her father and brother. Though they acknowledged her with a slight nod, their attention remained fixed on the men’s discussion.
She bit her lip, yearning for a kind word or smile. Since they’d arrived at the ranch an hour earlier, she’d felt adrift. It was as if she straddled two worlds, one of the Blackfoot and another of the white man.
Only her father’s stern visage held her back from rushing into his arms like a child. At twenty-one winters, she must behave as a woman grown, despite inner turmoil.
With a resigned sigh, Shining Star slipped from the room. She would find solace in the ones who never failed to greet her with joy. Billy Zales and their son, Spirit Bear, always made her feel she had a place in the world, and it was with them.
As another hour ticked by, Running Bear and his men made their way to the barn behind the main house. Bull and Spencer stoked the forge, its embers casting a dim, reddish glow across their stern faces while providing warmth and comfort.
The Blackfoot wrapped themselves in blankets near the forge’s growing warmth. Come dawn, they would be gone, vanishing like phantoms into the mist, with sacks of cornmeal and flour secured on their horses. Running Bear would find suitable payment for the hospitality shown them this night.
The bonds forged here would not be easily broken. As in the past, an alliance had been solidified between unlikely allies against a common foe. For now, cultural divides had been bridged.
Bull Mason awoke before dawn, a lingering unease gnawing at his gut. Though the meeting with Running Bear had gone smoothly, something felt off. Perhaps it was apprehension at having the fearsome Blackfoot warriors camped so close.
Rising quietly so as not to disturb Lydia, Bull slipped outside into the dim pre-dawn light. A thin mist clung close to the ground as he made his way toward the barn.
He was surprised to find the barn empty, the blankets neatly folded where the men had slept. Running Bear and his party had already departed before first light.
Bull shook his head. He should have expected as much from the elusive tribe. Their early departure still left him unsettled, as if unfinished business lingered in the air.
Turning back toward the house, Bull paused as a flash of color caught his eye. Crouching, he retrieved a solitary eagle feather from where it lay on the ground by the forge.
Running Bear had left it intentionally. Whether it was a gift or a parting message, Bull didn’t know. Gripping the feather tightly, he headed back inside, mind churning with questions.
Chapter Fourteen
The clatter of hooves and wagon wheels on frozen ground followed Eliza and Rachel as they made their way to Splendor. The back of the wagon was filled with handmade gifts and donations for the town’s orphanage, collected by the women at Redemption’s Edge. Riding alongside on horseback were Spencer and Dax, who’d volunteered to accompany them, and help unload the precious cargo.
As they rode, Spencer found his gaze drifting to Eliza. Her dark hair peeked out from under the hood of her heavy coat. She held the reins surely in her slender hands, guiding the horses with a confident and gentle touch. He’d been surprised when learning she’d known how to drive a wagon, buggy, carriage, and phaeton since she was a child. Her family may have had money, but it didn’t stop her father from insisting she was competent at several tasks. As an only child, she felt it her duty to do anything to please her parents.
Admiration stirred within Spencer as he watched her. Even if her manner sometimes poked at him the wrong way, her determination and strength of character impressed him each time they interacted.
When they arrived at the community building, a stately woman, with streaks of silver in her brown hair, greeted them.
“Good morning,” she said. “Thank you so much for your help.”
Together, they unloaded the wagon, bringing the gifts inside the simple clapboard building. Spencer and Eliza carried in armfuls of hand-sewn quilts, knitted scarves, whittled toys, and more. The generosity of the Pelletiers brought a smile to Ruth’s face, knowing how these donations would brighten the orphans’ Christmas morning.
After unloading the last crate, Spencer and Eliza lingered behind as Ruth left for an appointment, and Dax and Rachel left to gather more donations from around town.
Spencer suggested they set up some tables for sorting and organizing, starting with the items they’d brought from the ranch. As they worked, Spencer found himself stealing glances at Eliza’s profile, hoping their time together might become an opportunity to learn more about the intriguing woman who’d landed in their small town.
Eliza could feel Spencer’s gaze on her as they got to work, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. She busied herself setting items on the table, avoiding his eyes.
Inwardly, she chided herself. She needed to get ahold of herself. She barely knew this man. Still, Eliza couldn’t deny her growing curiosity about the rugged ranch hand.
