by Rylee Swann
Shawn juggled the clothing in one hand and grabbed Allie by the arm as she turned to go. “Stay. I have questions.”
“Umm…” A tint of red crept onto her cheeks.
“Just turn around. Don’t look. This won’t take long.” Shawn dropped the clothing onto his bedding and started to unzip his jeans.
Allie made a little sound of embarrassment in her throat and turned to the window, gazing out at the Yukon and the mountains beyond the river.
Shawn laughed as he kicked off his boots and removed his jeans, along with his underwear. Picking up the belt and breechcloth, he looped the rectangular tanned deerskin through the belt and adjusted it at his waist, making sure his privates were covered. The last time he’d worn native clothing was almost a year ago, when he last visited his brother.
He had a sudden longing to see Kyle; it had been too long since they were together.
“You had questions?” Allie asked.
Her question drew his attention back to her. She had a tiny waist and firm little ass, and Shawn took an extra minute to admire her shapely figure. “Why aren’t you wearing native clothing?”
“It’s our day off.” She started to turn around but caught herself just in time.
“What?” Shawn slid his feet into the moccasins.
“No tourists. Tomorrow I’ll be dressed appropriately and doing all sorts of expected Indian things to make the palefaces happy.” She laughed and shook her head, her single long braid bouncing back and forth. “The fools actually like being called that, if you can believe it. They think it’s quaint.”
“The moccasins don’t fit.” He found it curious that Allie was the only one out of costume but saw no point in mentioning it.
“There are more in the chest. Take your pick. Can I turn around yet?”
“Yes.” He stood there, bare-chested, almost naked, wondering how she’d react. He found Allie to be an enigma. An interesting one.
She turned and gave him a thorough once-over, and then nodded. “Good, you really did know how to put everything on. Much less awkward than me having to show you.” Tilting her head to the side, she frowned. “But something is missing. Ah, I know. Sit down and I’ll take care of it.”
Shawn realized that she’d been desensitized to half naked men walking around by spending so much time at this reenactment village. Without a word, he sank down to sit cross-legged on his pile of animal skins, wanting to know what she thought was missing. She got down on her knees alongside him and raised her hands to his head. He resisted the natural instinct to pull away, steeling his muscles to remain in place. She took a small length of the hair that framed his face on the left side and brushed it with her fingers. A small smile appeared on her lips.
He knew at once what she planned to do, and quirked up the corner of his lip, allowing her to proceed. “What is this place?”
“A tourist trap,” she said as she began to braid Shawn’s hair. “We all call it that like an inside joke, but I know what you mean. Did you know that most of the people who live here were either homeless or living in slum conditions? Ramón gathered our people here and gave them hope. He can be a very good man...” Her voice trailed off, as if she wanted to say more but thought better of it.
“Not typical for a killing machine? Is that what you didn’t say just now?”
Allie missed a braid and tsked under her breath, pulling the last two twists out and starting over. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t know anything about us. Besides, it would be stupid of me to disparage a killing machine, as you called him, when I’m sitting next to one right now.”
Shawn grunted in surprise at Allie’s candor. “Alright, I guess you got me there.”
She leaned over and grabbed one of the leggings she’d given Shawn, and ripped off one of the thinner fringes at the bottom.
“No one will miss this.” She tied it around the bottom of Shawn’s braid and sat back on her haunches to view her handiwork. “Good, it’s perfect. Suits you. But it could use a feather, an eagle feather. I’ll find one for you later.”
“That’s not necessary. Eagle feathers are for those who earn them.” He raised a hand to touch the braid. “I like it the way it is.”
She waved off his comment and tapped a finger on her chin, as if deciding something. “You will not tell anyone I told you this, but most of Ramón’s boys come from alcoholic or broken homes. Some were beaten as kids. They learned how to survive on the streets but don’t talk much about it, except among themselves. They understand each other. This place gave them jobs and a purpose. And not just Ramón’s boys. Many of the others too. Misfits, one and all. Some of the girls were prostitutes, some teenage unwed mothers without a way to earn a living. The men uneducated thieves. You get the picture.”
“Yes.” It was an all too common story among Native communities. One that caused his anger to rise, especially when he recalled his mother’s tales of the hardships her people endured. Yet, a new appreciation for Ramón blossomed as well.
“There was a camp here, before Ramón, but many of them were actors, not even Indians.” She shook her head and frowned. “Ramón changed all that with his money. Not everyone lives here full-time. They have homes they go to after the tourists have gone, but some do live here and wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Shawn remained quiet for a moment. Something nagged at him. Something she wasn’t saying. “Then why do I hear animosity for Ramón in your voice?”
She rocked to her feet and took a step back. Her tone sharpened. “Get some moccasins that fit. I should show you around and then drop you off with Matt and the others.”
Shawn rose to his feet too. “Allie, I didn’t mean to upset you. He’s done a good thing here. Our people have been marginalized for far too long.”
“That’s a big city word, but you’re right.” She put a smile on her face, one that Shawn didn’t believe. The curve of her lips seemed to him more like a brave front. “It’s okay. No harm, no foul.”
“You’d tell me if I pissed you off, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, hell yes, I would.” She shoved him playfully toward the supply chest. “Go on now.”
To everyone in the settlement, Shawn’s name was now “Samoset.” At their longhouse meeting, when Ramón had asked him for a good native name to call him, Shawn had given that name. It meant “He Who Walks Over Much,” and the time traveler in Shawn found it fitting.
He’d also been asked which job he’d like most at the village. He’d immediately responded with the horses, and now it fell upon him to take care of them and give the tourists trail rides, neither of which he much minded. Matt had volunteered to help, so he had company and half the burden lifted.
Yet, the one thing he needed the most remained elusive—time alone with Ramón to complete his mission, escape out of Dodge, or in this case, Dawson City, with his hide intact and get back to Rayna.
He missed her.
A week had gone by, during which he hadn’t been able to determine where Ramón lived. Nor could he follow the assassin when he left the grounds, since the boys and Allie never left him alone. Frustration had set in, but he refused to let it get to him. The boys were just doing their jobs, keeping tight tabs on Shawn until he proved himself to Ramón.
Shawn removed the halter from a high-spirited pinto pony and slapped her rump to send the horse on its way. With a snort and kick of her hind legs, she dashed off. Slinging the halter over his shoulder, Shawn shielded his eyes from the sun as the pony came to a stop in the middle of the high grass and started to munch, swishing her tail to keep the flies at bay.
This was a good life. He stood in stunned disbelief as the notion settled onto his shoulders. Such a thought was a distraction from his goal. He had to keep his head in the game. Yet...his gaze returned to the horses in the field. His horses, his responsibility. He liked what being given chores in the village represented—a sense of belonging. Swiping at a pesky fly, he turned to go back to the village.
&nb
sp; And found Allie smiling at him.
She wore a traditional Eastern Woodlands fringed leather dress made of soft deerskin. Her hair was braided down her back and her footsteps were silent in brown moccasins. Shawn had learned this was her typical garb during workdays. The intricate red and blue beading throughout the garment made it stand apart from others, who dressed similarly. Shawn tried to imagine her sitting with needle and thread, and chuckled at the thought of her being patient enough for the work.
“I’ve been calling to you, Sam.” She laughed. “But it was like you were on another planet.”
Schooling himself not to react to her all too true analogy, he shrugged and moved closer to her. “Sorry. What did you want?”
She beamed a megawatt smile up at him. “I have something for you. Well, two somethings. First this.” From behind her back she held up a hand to reveal a beautiful eagle feather. “It’s not a real eagle feather. You see how well it’s glued together? But I thought this would do for now. May I?”
She motioned to Shawn’s braided hair.
He nodded, taken aback by her effort. The eagle feather held a great deal of significance, representing power and courage. “Do you realize what you’re giving me?”
She rolled her eyes as she attached the feather to Shawn’s braid. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch. Like I said, it’s not a real feather. That you’ll have to earn all on your own. This is just for the tourists, cool?”
“You have an answer for everything, but yeah, cool.”
“Ha, I’m smart like that.” She stepped back to admire her handiwork and nodded. “It looks good. The tourists riding behind you on the trail will eat it up.”
Shawn raised a hand to touch the feather, not as comfortable as he’d let on. Even fake, it felt wrong to wear the eagle feather without having earned the badge of honor. “You said you had two things for me?”
“Oh yeah, right.” This time, she reached behind her back and pulled out a pair of sunglasses that hung from a leather belt at her waist. Stepping up to him, she balanced them on his nose with a gentle touch and studied him. “Damned if you aren’t movie star material.”
Shawn snorted. “A pair of Wayfarers makes me a movie star? Besides, these aren’t authentic to the gold rush years.”
Allie waved a dismissive hand. “Who cares? They’re useful, and you look good in them. The tourists won’t mind.”
She continued to stare at him until Shawn, feeling like a piece of meat, thought it necessary to break the silence. “Allie?”
“Hmm?”
“We’ve been spending a lot of time together since I got here and…” Suddenly grateful for the sunglasses that helped hide his discomfort with a topic he found difficult, he paused to choose the right words. The last thing he needed was an irate woman who had Ramón’s ear. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me...us. Understand?”
Allie blinked at him, then burst into laughter so riotous it scratched a tender dent in Shawn’s ego. Rage heated his skin. He narrowed his eyes and had to forcibly tamp his anger down by remembering his goal—Ramón, and nothing else. This woman meant nothing to him, but her laughter hurt nonetheless. He’d make time to figure out why that was later.
“Wait.” She opened her mouth to say more, but another convulsion of laughter spilled out. When it passed, she tried again. “You think I’m into you? I mean, I like you, but that’s as far as it goes. I enjoy our friendship. I’d hate for anything to ruin that. Do you think we’re not friends?” She ended on a worried note, her expression sobering.
He stared at her blankly, trying to piece her babbling together, but came up short. His confusion must have shown on his face because she started laughing again, but less uproariously this time.
“Don’t tell me that having a female friend is so alien to you that you’ve never had one.”
“So, you want to be friends?” He hated that the words came out in a hesitant stutter. She’d managed to tie him up in confusion, which only served to emphasize another aspect of human interaction he didn’t understand as well as he’d thought.
“Really, where do you come from? Of course I want to be friends. In fact, meet me tomorrow at the Yukon after the morning meeting and I’ll show you a hidden pool you might like. Okay?”
“I...have a trail ride.” Flustered, he motioned toward the nearby horses.
“Skip it. Matt can handle the ride alone one time. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
Still baffled, he nodded. Allie winked before darting off, leaving him more than a little worried that she would get his ass thrown out of there by morning with a word or two whispered in Ramón’s ear.
Had he been wrong about Allie this entire time? What was her angle? With a few well-chosen curses, he mentally kicked himself for getting too close to her.
Was she only a plant for Ramón to test his loyalty?
The muscles of his back contracted as he imagined the deadly bite of a bullet slamming between his shoulder blades.
18
Two of Ramón’s boys slammed into Shawn hard, knocking him to the ground. He grunted, spitting out dirt as he fought to scramble out from under them. Dirt and pebbles scratched his bare chest, arms, and legs, his breechcloth giving him little protection. As he leapt to his feet they came at him again, and Shawn shoved them aside. Running forward and dodging to the left, he sped up only to be converged on by three others.
A quiet curse escaped his lips as he struggled with the three, knowing Leon and Eddie, the first two who’d pinned him, were fast on his heels. Shawn was confident in his abilities, but he couldn’t take on five of them at one time.
“I don’t have the damned ball!” he shouted, shouldering Drew hard enough to knock the aggressor off his feet.
Eddie reached Shawn as he regained his balance and plowed into him, and Leon finished him off by taking him down a second time.
Matt let out a savage war whoop.
“And our boy, Sammy, is down again, eating dirt!” he hollered. Throwing back his head, he brayed laughter.
“Is this how you sons of bitches always play lacrosse?” Shawn accepted Eddie’s offered hand to help him up.
“Nah, man,” Matt said through his laughter. “But you’re the newbie, ya know? We gotta get our licks in before we play a real game next time.”
The impromptu game started in the short space of time they had between Ramón’s morning meeting and the start of work at the settlement for the tourists. Shawn had enjoyed the camaraderie but never expected all of them to gang up on him like they did. He didn’t really mind though. He’d had fun.
Shawn dusted himself off, making careful detours around the scrapes on his bare legs, arms, and chest. “Alright, I get it. It’s pile on top of Sh-Sam day. I’ll get you assholes next time.”
He offered a tight grin to show he held no animosity toward them.
“There you are! I thought we had a date.” Allie strode onto the makeshift lacrosse field, her eyes flashing. “Did you really just stand me up?”
A couple of the younger boys snickered. Matt sobered and raised an eyebrow.
Shawn handed his lacrosse stick to Drew, shrugging. “You were serious about that?”
“I most certainly was.” She thrust her hands on her hips and tapped a foot. “Don’t you dare let the conversation we had yesterday get in the way.” She walked right up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Got it?”
He took a step back. “Alright. Let me clean up and I’ll meet you at the river.”
She nodded before taking off in a huff the way she’d come.
Shawn and the others watched her go, then they dispersed too, chuckling and elbowing each other as they joked about the game. Shawn stretched his back and started to head toward the longhouse, but Matt grabbed his arm. “Hold up a minute.”
Shawn turned to him with raised eyebrows. “I gotta get a move on. Take the first trail ride for me, alright? Apparently, I have a date.”
A date he’
d agreed to the day before and he didn’t want to piss her off.
“Yeah, about that. Look, it’s not really my business how you spend your free time, but I can’t help noticing you’re spending a lot of it with Allie.”
“Yeah, so? She’s nice when she’s not acting holier than thou.”
“You know why she behaves like that, right?”
Shawn shrugged, and Matt’s mouth dropped open.
“Wait, she didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what, Matt?” Shawn got the distinct impression he was missing a vitally important fact.
“Oh, man. I thought you knew. Allie is Ramón’s daughter.”
Shawn stared at Matt.
“Are you screwing with me?” he asked but already knew the answer. This made perfect sense now that he thought about it.
Matt shook his head. “Nah, man.”
“Damn.” Shawn took off at a jog.
Matt called after him, “Where you going?”
“To have a little chat with her highness,” Shawn said over his shoulder, quickening his pace.
As he ran toward the Yukon, the smoke from cooking fires dazzled his senses, stirring his stomach, although he’d already eaten a hearty early breakfast. Bees buzzed by his ears and little swarms of gnats flew into his face. Unmindful, he continued until he reached the landing where Allie waited for him.
Coming to a stop as she waved to him with an eager smile, he frowned.
He planted his feet at hip distance apart and crossed his arms over his chest. “You should have told me.”
Allie’s face paled, and a look of such exquisite sorrow crept into her eyes that Shawn couldn’t misread the emotion. Moments passed before she at last pointed to a birchbark canoe tied to a small wooden dock. “Get in and we can talk.”
Shawn remained stoically silent and unmoving, resisting the urge to slam his hands onto his hips and tap his foot like Allie so often did when annoyed. He wanted answers, not a joyride.
Slowly lowering her arm, Allie sighed. “You came here for a confrontation, but I swear that I’ll never speak another word to you ever again if you don’t get in this canoe so we can have a private conversation. If you don’t, you will never get the answers you came here for.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. She blinked and heaved in a breath. “Please, get in.”