White Vengeance

by Susan Edwards

  Sighing, she stood and brushed off her pants. It was past time to return to the group. Mattie and the others would be worried and she would not put her needs ahead of theirs. She’d already deprived them of so much.

  She’d try again in the morning. Mattie believed in her. She just had to believe in herself.

  Yes. Believe.

  The voice startled her, and excited her. She glanced around, spotted Tyler sitting patiently. His had not been the voice she’d heard.

  Letting her instinct take over, she cleared her mind of all doubt and worry. She finally gave in and admitted to herself that the spirits had been trying to communicate with her many times. She’d just been too stubborn to listen.

  Closing her eyes, she let the cooling breeze wash over her. She reached out with her mind and heart. “I believe,” she whispered.

  Open your eyes. Follow your heart.

  Renny opened her eyes and gasped. Directly across from her stood the pale yellow horse. He stood silent and still. He watched. He seemed to be waiting for something. His tail swished back and forth and he bent his head and pawed the ground.

  “You’re back,” Renny whispered. She stood.

  The horse dipped his head then lifted it high, shaking his gloriously long yellow mane. His tail flicked back and forth as he pranced. Then he reared up, came back down onto all fours, and turned and faded back into the shadows.

  Renny sprinted forward, splashed her way across the shallow stream, ignoring the shout behind her.

  * * *

  “Here we go again,” Tyler said as he ran after Renny. He didn’t bother with another shout.

  Catching up with her, he grabbed a fistful of her shirt.

  “Let go. We have to follow it.” She broke free.

  “Renny, get back here.” He ran after her.

  She turned her head and shouted over her shoulder. “It’s the same horse I saw last night. Mattie said she saw horses in her vision. I think I understand. Come on. We have to follow it.”

  Tyler kept pace. “Dammit, Ranait. You can’t just go racing off alone. Especially after a horse that might have an owner nearby!”

  Renny ignored him and ran between a stand of cottonwoods. She stopped. Her head turned from side to side as she searched her surroundings.

  “Not alone. Got you.” She slid him an innocent stare. “Got my Nanny Troll.” She was distracted, her voice lacked heat.

  Tyler frowned as he glanced around for a horse. All he saw were a few trees, some brush and tall grass spreading out all around them. Up ahead he spotted more cottonwoods. They lined the stream snaking through the rolling hills.

  Renny bent down onto her hands and knees. She parted grass, moving slowly but methodically over the area. Suddenly she gave a triumphant cry and pointed.

  “Look! It was here. The horse is real.” She pointed to a set of hoofprints.

  Giving her a strange look, Tyler asked, “What else would it be?”

  Renny looked enchanted for a moment. “A spirit.”

  Tyler grunted.

  “Don’t pretend to understand,” Renny said to Tyler.

  “Good. I won’t.” He walked through the tall grass, every nerve on high alert as he noticed that the grass had been trampled in many places.

  One hand rested on the butt of his revolver. He wished he’d thought to take the rifle from the scabbard on the back of his horse. Hell, he wished he’d brought the horses with him, but he hadn’t been willing to let Renny go off by herself.

  The appearance of this horse made him nervous. Too many places where they could be ambushed. He rounded a partially dead bush, then stopped. “Renny. Over here.”

  She ran through the knee-high grass over to him. “What is it?” Excitement and dread flowed through her.

  He pointed to an area where the grass was flattened and cleared around a small fire pit. “Someone’s been here.”

  Renny scanned the area then let out a long, relieved breath. “It’s not Matt’s,” she said, her voice falling flat. She was also disappointed. She’d hoped to find some sign of Matthew.

  Tyler glanced over at her. “How do you know?”

  She indicated the rocks still forming a ring around the ash. “Matt would have erased all signs. He wouldn’t have left a pit in the ground like this. Not only is it against all he believes in to destroy the land of his birth, but it makes it easier for the enemy to follow and attack.”

  She frowned as she watched Tyler pick up a discarded tin can. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and added, “We live off the land. We make our own food. He would never defile the land like this.”

  She felt let down. She’d been so sure that the appearance of the horse for the second time—and his interaction with her—meant that perhaps he was leading her to Matthew.

  “Well, whoever was here is long gone,” Tyler said.

  Renny nodded. Then it hit her. “Wait.” She let her idea play in her head while Tyler studied her.

  “You think whoever was here might be the person who attacked Matthew?”

  “Well? Could be. Gives us something. The eagle led me in this direction. The horse drew me across the stream, to this very spot.”

  Tyler’s gaze narrowed as he searched the area. He pulled her out of the open and over to a thick cottonwood.

  “Dammit, Renny! You did it again. Took off running without thinking. What if someone had been here?”

  Renny stuffed her hands down into her pockets. “Well, you weren’t exactly tiptoeing around.” She hated that he was right.

  “I was following you and you damn well know it!”

  “Look, Troll—”

  A sudden gust of wind slammed into both of them, knocking them sideways and into each other.

  Instinctively, Tyler grabbed hold of Renny and steadied them both. “What the hell was that?”

  Renny looked stunned. The gust of wind was gone. She laughed softly. “I think it was the spirits telling me that you, Nanny Troll, are, for once, right. I shouldn’t have taken off like that, and if Matt were here, he’d have yelled at me worse than you.”

  Tyler looked slightly mollified. “Come on, let’s get back before Reed comes looking for us.”

  Renny hesitated. “We have to follow. See if whoever was here leads us to Matt.”

  Tyler put his arms around Renny’s shoulder. “Tomorrow. It’s getting too late.”

  Renny wanted to argue. But she glanced over his shoulder at the nearly hidden camp and had to agree. She needed time to study the area, see if she could determine how many had been here and in which direction they had gone.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She stopped and glared at him.

  Tyler held up a hand. “What?”

  She scowled. “That makes twice that you’ve been right, Troll. Don’t get used to it. You’re just lucky today.”

  She walked off, leaving Tyler feeling slightly bemused. What a day.

  “Hey! Get a move on it or I’m leaving you behind.” Renny had stopped and was standing with her arms crossed, her foot tapping.

  Tyler jogged to catch up to her.

  “Women,” he muttered, finding himself thoroughly disarmed.

  * * *

  Matt woke to the sound of birdsong. The chant in his head, the song that resided in his heart, was gone. He caught the flash of white from the wing of a mockingbird perched above him. The bird wasn’t afraid, seemed to want company. He knew the mockingbird taught about the power of song and voice.

  For a few minutes he closed his eyes, gathered inner strength, then tried to sit up.

  “Do not.” The voice was as rough as the bird’s voice was smooth.

  Matthew bit back a groan as his heart pounded. The voice came from a stranger. Not the soft,
gentle voice of Brenna.

  Brenna! Where was she? He tried to remember. He tried to move. Had to find her.

  But he hurt all over. Felt so weak. His mind still felt fuzzy but he remembered Brenna, saw her face, and the hurt he’d put in her eyes.

  What had he done? He’d put her life in danger. He needed to know where she was. Please don’t let her be hurt.

  “Brenna,” he gasped. “Where is she?”

  The stranger’s strangely colorless eyes bore into him. “I found no one with you.”

  “Got to find her.” Matthew struggled once more. This time the pain in his side was so intense he gasped, feeling sick to his stomach.

  Sweat dripped down the sides of his face. The sun was up, but it was still early morning. The stranger sat beside him, watching silently.

  Matthew fisted his hands, hating the weakness. “Have to get up. Help me. Help me find Brenna.” Desperation tore the words from him.

  “You are in no condition to move.” A thread of gentleness softened the rough voice.

  “Have to. My fault.”

  What had he done? Matthew recalled the argument between them. He hadn’t wanted to hear her excuses. There were none, so he’d refused to listen.

  Brenna had destroyed more than his trust. So he’d lashed out, deliberately hurting her. And when she’d run out into the rain, he’d let her. She had nowhere else to go, so he knew she’d return eventually.

  It didn’t matter that deep inside he understood what had driven her to protect her mother at all costs. He even felt sorry for her. But loyalty to his brothers and sisters meant that Brenna needed to atone for frightening all of them.

  But he’d never wanted her to be hurt or put in danger. So when she didn’t return, when it started to rain even harder, he’d made up his mind to go after her. He was responsible for her, and he’d also been ashamed of himself for deliberately causing her sorrow and pain.

  But then he’d heard a noise outside and had assumed that Brenna had returned. So he’d pretended to be engrossed in sharpening his knife. Unable to resist looking at her, he’d glanced up.

  It hadn’t been Brenna standing in the opening of his canvas lean-to. It had been Gil. And to his shock, Brenna’s brother had a shotgun trained on him.

  Somewhere in the hazy recess of his mind, he recalled hearing a gun blast right before he’d fallen into a dark void.

  Once more he tried to sit up. Stabbing pain made him gasp and fall back to the ground.

  “You are not ready to move about.” The stranger came over to him. He held a bowl in his hands. “You must eat.”

  Shaking his head, Matthew said, “No time. Got to find her. My fault. Have to be sure she is safe.”

  She was with her brother, surely she was safe. But why had Gil come after them? Why not just take Brenna and return home? It didn’t make any sense to Matthew. He’d always gotten on well with the man.

  “Open.”

  “No. Need—” He choked on the trickle of watery broth that was spooned into his mouth. Before he could protest, a hand slid behind his head and lifted. A bowl was put to his lips.

  “Drink.”

  Matthew let the broth slide down his throat. He would eat. Then he’d get up and go after Brenna. Somehow he’d find her.

  After a few minutes, the bowl was taken away. “Enough.” The stranger stood and stared down at him. “She is not here,” the stranger said.

  Matt stared up at the old man. “Where is she? Take me to her. How do you know that she is alive?”

  The old man drew in a deep breath. “Trust that I speak the truth.” The white-haired man walked away.

  “Can’t wait. Must go after Brenna. Tell me, old man,” he said. “How long have I been ill?”

  The white-haired man shrugged. “What does it matter? You were near death and death still hovers around you.”

  Matthew groaned in both pain and frustration. “How much time has passed?” He immediately regretted shouting, for the pain that shot up his side left him gasping.

  The old man looked him steady in the eyes. “We cannot always measure time. Days often feel like weeks, and weeks like minutes. For you, the time may pass quickly; for another, it may travel much slower.”

  Matthew closed his eyes for a moment. When he had the pain under partial control, he opened them. “I did not ask for a riddle, old man. I asked a simple question and require a simple answer in return.”

  The old man lifted a bushy white brow. “There are no simple questions. Each question asked is as complex as the man who asked it, as is the answer given to that man.”

  “She does not deserve this. I have to help her. Help me,” Matthew begged.

  “To help her, you must first help yourself.”

  Matthew stared at the man. He looked old as the hills with a shock of white hair like snow on a mountain. Still, the man moved as smoothly as a young lad.

  “Who are you?” Matthew’s voice ended on a croak.

  Once more he found himself staring into wise, kind eyes.

  “A friend.”

  Matthew frowned. His body craved sleep but his mind fought the fog closing in on him. This time he forced himself to sit up.

  He was not going to lie here when Brenna was out there somewhere. He had to find her. Make sure that she was safe. Gil knew nothing about living or traveling in the wilderness. Once more the questions came at him. Why had Gil come after them? Did he now have Brenna with him?

  The thought that Brenna might be alone out there, lost, cold or hungry, hurt worse than his injury. After much sweating, cursing and fighting the cold grip of nausea, he stood.

  Hunched over, gripping the thick bandage covering his left side, he took an unsteady step, gasped at the pain, then felt the darkness closing in. “Brenna,” he cried out as he fell.

  A blanket of air caught him, cradled him, and set him down on his pallet with the gentleness of a mother putting her newborn to bed.

  Beside Matthew, the stranger stood. “Rest.” Then he faded from view, becoming wind and air.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Renny rode into camp just ahead of Tyler. She deliberately avoided looking at him. Now that she was back with the others and faced with what lay ahead, she wasn’t sure how she felt about what had happened between them.

  She wasn’t totally shocked or surprised by their passion. She’d been attracted to him for a while, had fought against it by building a thick wall of anger and resentment to keep herself from caving in to the part of her that longed for love and friendship.

  But his confession of how his sister had died, and his genuine need to see that none of them made the same mistake, had torn down the barrier she’d erected between them. It now left her vulnerable to the pull between them. She couldn’t deny that something was there.

  Renny figured that maybe he loved her, and had for a while. But she wasn’t sure what she felt—other than horrified and even a bit scared that she’d so easily given herself to him.

  She grimaced. Given herself? She’d fallen apart and then begged him. That was something she didn’t understand.

  Her family always came first. They were smack in the middle of a rescue mission with a questionable outcome. It had been wrong of her to seek comfort in something so primal as lovemaking.

  She should have spent the afternoon planning and thinking of her next step, not lost in some brilliantly colored world where there was just her and Tyler. But even as she felt guilty, she wanted to do it again.

  Tyler had shown her a bit of heaven, and she didn’t think she could live without it. Knowledge, she mused, could be frightening. Suddenly she wasn’t quite sure that she could live without Sheriff Trowbrydge Tyler Thompkins Tilly clinging to her like the mother hen he was.

  Sheriff Tyler.

 
Her Troll.

  Renny chuckled a little. Who’d have thought the most insulting of names that she could come up with would turn into an endearment.

  She sighed. It was done now, and there was no turning back. No one knew this better than she. Taking a deep breath, Renny decided to deal with Tyler and her own confusion later. Much, much later.

  Clearing her jumbled mind, she took stock of their camp. The spot Reed had chosen was near a small trickle of water. There were no trees.

  No trees meant no wood, which meant no fire. Not that they always had a fire. If they had fresh meat, they made a fire. Otherwise, they ate dried meat, dried fruit, or hard biscuits. They had cornmeal with them to make cornmeal cakes when they cooked their evening meal.

  They hadn’t brought a lot in the way of supplies. They survived off the land. If they were lucky, they’d find some prairie chicken eggs for the morning meal or a bird or rabbit for lunch.

  They didn’t really go after anything bigger, as they didn’t have the time to preserve the meat that they couldn’t eat in one or two meals. It went against her upbringing to kill for sport or waste a life that had been given so they might live.

  Renny sighed. She didn’t mind going without meat or hot meals. She did, however, miss coffee. Nothing better than a mug of black-as-night, thick-as-mud coffee. The stronger the better.

  Maze had brought some tea and sugar. But Renny had decided to forgo the coffee as it took time to roast the beans and grind them too.

  Spotting Maze sitting on a blanket with Caitie, Renny watched as the woman helped Caitie with her sewing. Seeing that calm, simple domestic chore eased some of the tension from Renny’s shoulders.

  Renny found Kealan right where she expected: exploring the creek. The horses were nearby, munching on the abundant supply of grass with Daire watching over them.

  Come nightfall, the horses would have to be tethered to stakes to keep the animals from running away. She gave the sky a quick glance. No summer thunderstorm today.

  She was relieved. No matter how well trained, horses did not like the loud booms and bright flashes of lightning and tended to bolt in reaction.

  Her horse needed no urging to go join the others. The mare knew the routine. Daire came striding up to her. He took the bridle in one hand while Renny dismounted. “Thanks,” she said, gladly letting Daire care for her horse as he had since the start of their journey.