The first light of dawn broke with a woman’s scream. Warriors raced from their tipis, followed by the women. All paused in frightened confusion. When another scream rent the air, Golden Eagle pointed.
“The screams come from my daughter’s tipi.” He ran, followed by his wife and Dove. Entering, they found Star rocking back and forth, sobbing hysterically. White Wind ran to Star and wrapped her arms around her, trying to comfort her.
“They are gone,” Star sobbed. “All of them. I could not prevent it. Again, I could not prevent it.”
“Who, daughter? Who is gone?” Golden Eagle glanced around. Running Elk sat by himself, looking confused and frightened by his mother’s wailing. Renny and Morning Moon weren’t in the tipi.
“They went after her. They ride into the storm. It grows. It murders.” Star’s voice drifted, her eyes clouded.
Golden Eagle knew whatever visions had awoken her in this state once again held her in their grip. His heart clenched. At no time could he recall his own mother being so tormented by her gift of sight. Going to his daughter, he gripped her fingers tightly.
“Do not fight it. Look. Listen. Learn. You must tell me what you see.” He roughened his voice to break through her fear.
“Speak!”
“Emma. She’s gone. Rides toward the soldiers. A soldier rides toward her. His hair. Red. Great turmoil inside. Love and goodness surround him. No darkness. She’s almost there but not alone. Others are with her.”
Star’s voice had calmed in her telling but the edge of fear returned. “A storm, evil, cuts between them. Separates them. Emma rides into the storm, trusting.”
Star broke off and fought the hold her father had on her. “No! No, don’t trust him. Murderer. He will kill them all.” Unable to continue, Star slumped into her mother’s arms.
A short, tension-filled while later, she opened her eyes and fixed their haunted depths on her father. “Must go after them. Emma, my daughter, and Renny and Tanagila. They follow the river, toward the soldiers, toward death.”
Golden Eagle left the tipi at a run without asking any more questions. If Star said they had to go, there was no time to lose. Back out in the open air, Golden Eagle sent two braves to find his son and the others, then hand-chose several other warriors to go with him. Quickly, everyone gathered weapons and made ready.
As expected, White Wind and his daughters joined him. Mounted, each wore a different expression. White Wind looked worried, Star fearful, and Dove determined as she swung her quiver of arrows over her shoulder. Mother and younger daughter flanked Star. Once again, they were a unit, inseparable in times of trouble.
With Golden Eagle leading the way, the group rode out.
Out on the open prairie, Derek had stopped for a few hours’ sleep. The sun was just rising when something woke him. A light sleeper, he felt Wild Sage ease out of his arms. With a growl, he grabbed her and hauled her back. “Going somewhere, my little whore?”
Wild Sage cried out and cowered, covering her face with her hands.
Sitting up, Derek stared at her naked body, pleased by the bruises and bite marks marring her breasts. Served her right—her and her kind, luring white men from their wives and families.
His breathing grew shallow. Just like the squaw who’d taken his father from him and turned his mother into a hard, bitter woman. He scowled and fought for control. He’d never been good enough for Josie Sanders.
Always, she’d compared him to his father.
Always, she’d found fault.
Always, she’d harped.
Closing his eyes against the tide of pain, he comforted himself with the knowledge that Josie Sanders would never hurt him again. He’d taken care of her, shown her that he was a man. Man enough to kill. Remembering her fear and the way she’d begged him not to kill her calmed him.
Just thinking of the heady sense of power that came from being in charge brought an evil, feral grin to his face. Wild Sage cried out.
Finding her watching him, eyes wide with fear, he backhanded her. “Shut up,” he snarled. “Make another sound and I’ll kill you right here.”
Wild Sage whimpered. Derek stared down at her. Lust pooled between his legs. Standing to remove his pants, he scanned the area out of habit. His hand stilled when he spotted a small group traveling toward him. Grabbing his binoculars, he studied them, then grinned.
“Ah, I couldn’t have planned this better myself.” Bending down, he yanked Wild Sage to her feet. “Get dressed and hurry.” When she was done, he shoved her toward the horses. “Let’s go. And don’t try anything.”
Galloping along the river, Emma kept her eyes focused ahead. At her side, Tanagila kept pace. “I won’t return with you, Tanagila. Please, take the girls and go back.” Emma frowned at the two girls riding up ahead in twin dresses of fringed bleached-white buckskin. Renny and Morning Moon chatted away as if this were a grand adventure.
Rubbing her forehead, Emma felt like crying. Renny wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be back in the village, safe. According to Tanagila, who’d caught up with her last night, the two girls had been following Emma. Worry churned in her gut. She’d vowed not to endanger her sister again but here they were, unprotected in the wilderness along with Morning Moon and Tanagila.
“You must listen to me, Emma. I was wrong to cause trouble. My heart was jealous. Please turn back. No one will think bad of you.”
Emma glanced at the girl, still surprised by her turn of heart. After confessing to finding the portrait of her and Tatankaota, she’d spent the remainder of the night trying to talk Emma into returning to the village. “Go to your warrior, Tanagila. Take the girls. I promise to return for Renny.”
“Our chief loves you.”
Emma shook her head sadly. They’d been over and over this. “If he loved me, he could not kill my father.” Heartache brought tears to her eyes. She was right in what she was doing. Striking Thunder had his duty. She had hers. There was nothing to say so she remained silent, keeping her horse pointed eastward.
Tossing her braided hair, Tanagila reached out and stopped Emma’s horse. “You don’t understand. He must. It’s our way.”
Emma glanced over at the Indian maiden. “You don’t understand that I also must do what I have to do.” Reaching out, she put her hand on the other girl’s shoulder.
“Do you not see what will happen if I allow Striking Thunder and the rest of your warriors to do this? If they kill my father, a colonel in the army, the soldiers will retaliate. They will wipe out your entire village as punishment. Is this for the good of your people? Do you want to see your innocent children and babies killed? And for what, revenge?”
Fighting weariness of both body and soul, Emma’s voice broke. “It’s wrong to kill, Tanagila. There is nothing anyone can do to bring your sister or any of the others back. Go back and warn your people to move where they will be safe. Take the children away.”
Tanagila looked troubled, but stubbornly didn’t turn back. Ahead, Morning Moon, seated behind Renny on the back of the horse, turned to look at Emma. Her eyes were dark and serious. Her heart went out to the girl. From what Renny had said, Morning Moon had known Emma was leaving and the two girls had followed.
Emma’s heart grew heavy. She was torn. If Tanagila didn’t turn back soon, Emma would have no choice but to return with them. She couldn’t put Renny and Morning Moon at risk.
But what would she be returning to? A warrior who couldn’t put her needs first? A chief who would someday marry one of his own? Suddenly, her future loomed, empty of love and laughter.
“Emma, look.”
Drawn from her depressing thoughts, Emma glanced out across the prairie. Two riders were coming toward them. There was nowhere to go or hide. Silently, the group stopped and waited. As the pair of riders drew near, there was something about one of them that she recognized. Dressed as a trapper, there was no mistaking that moustache or gleaming blond hair.
“Derek!” Emma spurred her horse fo
rward. He could take her and Renny to their father, leaving Tanagila and Morning Moon free to return. Then she would take her sister back to St. Louis and try to forget the handsome young chief who had stolen her heart.
With her attention focused on reaching Derek, Emma didn’t hear Morning Moon call her back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Striking Thunder caught up with his father by noon. Stopping briefly so that Golden Eagle could fill him in, Striking Thunder learned about Star’s visions and the missing women and children.
Golden Eagle pointed. “They follow the river to the Big Muddy River.” He glanced at his son. “There is another set of tracks. All seem to be traveling together but I do not know who the other is.”
Striking Thunder rode toward the back where Star rode between his mother and sister. The three women stopped when he rode up. He looked into Star’s eyes and saw her fear.
“Can you tell me anything more?”
Star shuddered. “Soldiers. A forked path. One leads to peace and happiness, the other is soaked in blood. Hatred destroys those who walk that path.” Glancing at him, tears streamed down her face. “Choose wisely, my brother.”
Striking Thunder frowned. When he rejoined his father, he suggested they head across the prairie to cut Emma and the others off. Agreeing, they crossed the river. The hooves of the horses thundered across the prairie. Staring straight ahead, fear for Emma’s safety churned in him. This was his fault. He should have known she’d run again. With sudden insight, he realized he’d misread his own vision. Emma’s leaving, their separation, had been a warning, not a prediction.
And because he hadn’t shared it with their wicasa, their holy man, this mistake might very well cost him dearly—his heart.
Riding faster, he thought of Emma and the choice she’d made. Her father over him. While it hurt, could he blame her? Her sense of duty, like his own, was strong. His mind conjured up a child much like Renny, watching her father leave, not realizing he wouldn’t be back. The image of that little girl, charged with raising an infant sister, haunted him.
But his need to avenge Meadowlark was different. Would his father not have done his duty and married Wild-Flower rather than risk starting another war? Yet his father had suggested that there was duty to oneself. What was his duty to himself? Everything he’d ever done had been for his people. Except Emma. Taking her to his tipi, keeping her, that had been for himself. Because he loved her.
The thought of losing Emma, the flame of his heart, left him feeling hollow and empty inside. Dead. And if he felt this way, it would affect his ability to lead his people.
And what about Emma? What was his duty to her? Marriage? Protection? Provider? All of these were a warrior’s responsibility. But what about trust? Loyalty? Did he not owe her these? With a sigh, he put his troubling thoughts from him. There was much for him to consider. Right now, he had to find Emma and bring her back safely. Returning to the river, they followed it in silence.
The sun warmed the land. New grass formed a soft mat and tiny wildflowers added color and beauty. Striking Thunder appreciated none of it. By midafternoon, he was beginning to fear they’d lost Emma and the others. Ready to turn half of his warriors back, he glanced up into the sky and saw Black Cloud circling above them.
Suddenly, the bird shot across the sky. Following the bird’s direction, he saw a large group riding hard toward them in the distance. Calling a halt, he watched.
When he saw the flags and uniforms of soldiers, he gave the signal to form a line. Bows were readied but he gave the command that none were to shoot unless he gave the orders. White Wind and Star stayed well behind the strung-out line of warriors. Dove took her place in front of her mother and sister, her bow and arrow at the ready.
Striking Thunder waited, his heart pounding, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. Emma’s father had come. Emotions churned. Images of Emma over the last few months flashed before him. What he did now would affect everyone’s future. He glanced back at Star. She seemed calm, which suggested the danger surrounding Emma was not ahead.
Glancing at his warriors, he also knew what he decided here would affect how they viewed him and his leadership abilities. How could he put love before them? How could he not? Around and around he went. Time worked against him as the enemy advanced slower now. Soon, he must make his decision. Emma and love, or duty and revenge. It was a forked path before him.
When the soldiers stopped, the glint of light flashed on the metal barrels of their rifles. Silence fell as the two groups of fighters faced off. Striking Thunder had no trouble picking out Emma’s father by his long red hair, blowing in the breeze beneath his hat. He kept his eyes trained on that man.
Finally, the colonel dismounted. He was tall, trim and wore a neat uniform. Another man, dressed as a trapper, also joined him. The colonel gave the universal sign for peace with his hands and spoke the words. “I am Colonel Grady O’Brien. We come in peace.”
Concealing all thought and emotion, Striking Thunder nudged his mount forward. His father moved with him, keeping back a bit so all knew who was in charge. Normally the Indians, even if they spoke the white man’s language, didn’t reveal that fact. But Striking Thunder didn’t have time to play games. Emma was in danger, although, if her father was here, he wasn’t sure from what or whom. Still, Star had seen something. He would be careful.
“You are on Sioux land.”
If the colonel was surprised by his English, he didn’t show it. Without turning, he signaled his men to lower their rifles. Standing straight and proud, his hands at his side and well away from his pistol, he stepped forward. “I am in search of my daughters.”
“Look among us. Do you see your daughters?”
Grady’s gaze scanned over Striking Thunder’s warriors. “I seek a young chief by name of Striking Thunder. It is he who has my Emma.”
“You said daughters.” Striking Thunder knew with one slight motion of his hand that he could give the orders to cut down this man and most of the soldiers standing nervously behind him. Still, he hesitated.
Grady’s voice caught. “I do not know where my youngest daughter is. The information I have concerns only my elder.”
“And what information is this?” Striking Thunder listened as Emma’s father explained what he knew of Emma’s whereabouts. And he watched and judged. He saw no false concern and no hatred. The more the man talked, the less of a soldier he seemed. He became a father. A worried one.
The image was not what he was prepared for. Considering the man before him, and his sister’s vision of two paths, he knew the choice rested with him. Not to kill this man and keep peace between the two groups of armed men, or to kill him, avenge the deaths of his people and cause bloodshed. Tension grew.
Two paths. One with Emma. One without. One filled with love and laughter, the other cold silence. But what about duty, his people? Suddenly, everything became clear. His first duty was to his own heart. Though her skin marked her white, her heart and soul belonged to the Sioux and his belonged to her. They were tied. One and the same. His duty lay with her and together, with her love, he’d be able to serve his people.
The need for revenge drained away. Yellow Dog, the one who had committed the murders, had died. And if the colonel lost his own daughters, by their own choice to stay, wouldn’t that be punishment enough? All he had to do was tell this man he didn’t know of Emma and leave. The colonel would never need to know of his daughters’ whereabouts. It was enough that they were safe.
As quickly as he gave thought to that idea, he discarded it.
Emma would not want her father to worry. But did this man who’d put duty ahead of his family truly care about his daughters? Did he deserve to know the truth? Striking Thunder decided to test him. While meeting with the other chiefs, he had taken the colonel’s belt buckle. He pulled it out of the pouch tied to his waist and held it up. The sun sparkled off the silver and flashed. With a word, he tossed it to Emma’s father.
Tensio
n mounted as the colonel cradled the belt buckle in his hands. Lifting his eyes, Striking Thunder thought he caught a gleam of tears in his eyes. “This is mine, stolen from me months ago.”
“Stolen or given to Yellow Dog as payment to kill the Sioux?”
Grady’s head shot up. “Stolen. What purpose it served, I do not know.”
“You did not give it to Captain Sanders with orders to use it as payment to Yellow Dog?”
The colonel drew himself up. Barely restrained fury flashed in blue eyes with a hint of storm in their depths. “Ah, now I begin to understand. Let me tell you, that in addition to searching for my daughters, I’m also after Sanders. I have reason to believe he means to harm my elder daughter.”
“Why would this man want to harm your daughter?”
“I do not know for sure but he is dangerous. He has killed one woman and kidnapped another.”
Before Striking Thunder could ask more questions, Star moved up next to him. She stared at Emma’s father for a long time. “The Eagle,” she whispered, then turned to her brother. “The white man speaks the truth. No darkness surrounds him.”
The Indians withdrew a few feet and conferred. Grady sensed something deeper going on. Who was this warrior and what did he know? Tracing the initials on the belt buckle his daughters had given him, he also wondered how this warrior had come to be in possession of it.
Then with certainty, he knew. This had to be Striking Thunder, the young chief who’d killed Yellow Dog. He glanced around one more time. Where was Emma?
He longed to step forward and demand answers but he didn’t dare, not with arrows pointed at him and his men. Though he didn’t fear for his own safety, one wrong move could set off a bloody chain of events.
The two sides were well-matched. Even though his soldiers had rifles, those arrows would find their mark just as quickly as bullets. To still his impatience, he let his attention wander over the Sioux. To his surprise, there were three women. The one talking to Striking Thunder held his gaze.
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