A Place Called Home

by Elizabeth Grayson

  As she did, Reid caught sight of flying skirts, a battered hat, a buttermilk mare—and knew exactly who it was.

  "Livi," he bellowed as he turned his mount to follow her. He was pleased as hell to see her no matter how much trouble she was in. "Livi!"

  Livi never slowed.

  Leaning low over his gelding's shoulder, Reid urged him after her. A hundred yards beyond the trail dipped in a treacherous descent. Reid took it at a headlong pace. Ahead, Livi rode even more recklessly, less in control of her mount than a rider should be on a course like this.

  The narrow track poured out into a meadow between the hills, an expanse of yellow-green grass trampled by the force of the wind and weather. Once he gained the field, Reid spurred his horse to greater speed. He gained on Livi and relentlessly rode her down.

  She turned as he came up on her horse's flank. He could see the panic in her face. She raised her pistol.

  "Jesus, Livi! It's me!" he roared.

  The gun exploded, spitting smoke and flame. The ball flew past Reid's arm, close enough to sting like fire but well shy of its mark.

  Somewhere between pulling the trigger and looking back to see what damage she'd done, Livi must have realized who he was. She sawed back on the reins, and the mare pranced to a stop. Reid surged past her, reined in his horse, and trotted back.

  "Oh, my God! Reid!" Livi gasped when she saw the stain of red blossoming on his sleeve. "Did I shoot you?"

  "Not anywhere that matters much," he answered. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

  "Weems's men are after me."

  Reid cast an eye back at the hill, wondering how many men were coming and how soon. He scanned around for cover. A scattering of boulders lay clustered along the far side of the meadow near where the trail disappeared into the trees again. Anyone could see it was a perfect place for an ambush, but Reid didn't think that mattered.

  Weems and his men thought Livi was alone, without resources. And Reid meant to make them sorry—for that and so much else.

  With a gesture for her to follow, Reid led Livi toward the rocks. They'd barely gotten their horses tied back in the trees when Weems's men appeared at the far side of the field. Scrambling for cover, Reid sighted down his rifle. With her own rifle tucked beneath her arm, Livi joined him behind one of the boulders and reloaded her pistol.

  On horseback, four men were making their way across the beaten grass. Four. Only four, and three were Shawnee. The one in the uniform coat was too short and slender to be Martin Weems. Reid scanned the edge of the meadow, expecting treachery.

  "Where the hell is Weems?" he whispered, half to himself.

  "I shot him," Livi said quietly.

  Reid jerked around to look at her. "You what?"

  "Shot him. When I took back the disks."

  "You got the sacred disks?"

  "How else was I to get my baby back?"

  Campbell turned his gaze back to the field, feeling a little stunned, a little deflated. Somehow he hadn't expected Livi to succeed without his help.

  "Did you kill him?"

  When she did not answer, Reid spared her another glance. She was pale enough that the few faint freckles spattered across her cheeks stood out like dots on dice. He noticed the bruise that marred one perfect cheek and wondered how she'd gotten it.

  She swallowed hard. "Yes, I killed him."

  "Good."

  Reid drew a shaky breath and looked away. So David Talbot's death had been avenged. And not by him. Finding and taking revenge on the men who murdered David had been his focus for all these months. It had been his way of coping with his loss, of answering beliefs he'd long denied.

  The knowledge that Livi had done what he could not left him feeling compromised, hollow somehow. Reid tried to tell himself that it didn't matter who killed Weems. He tried to tell himself that David's spirit had been appeased. It didn't help.

  He was your brother and you failed him.

  He hadn't been strong enough or tough enough or persistent enough to do what had to be done. He hadn't proved himself worthy of either David's friendship or his—

  "Reid?" Livi whispered. "How much closer do you intend to let those men get?"

  "Not much." He sighted down the barrel of his rifle and squeezed the trigger.

  The Indian on the left grabbed his shoulder and toppled off his horse. After a moment of surprise, the other three scrambled out of their saddles and took cover in the grass.

  Reid snatched up Livi's rifle. Without Weems to spur them on, just how eager would these men be to continue their search for Livi?

  Not very, he thought, and deliberately sighted on the Englishman's hat. He blew the cockaded thing to kingdom come. Then, in quick succession, he aimed and fired his pistol and Livi's, the rifles she'd reloaded, both his and hers.

  He could almost hear the men conferring, speculating about Livi's arsenal and her marksmanship. They were wondering if getting back the sacred disks was worth braving the wrath of the woman who'd put a hole in Weems.

  Reid left off firing long enough for the three of them to take a good, long look at how comfortably he and Livi were settled here in the rocks, at how little cover there was if they tried to approach.

  Taking careful aim, he sighted on the one brave's feathered headdress, just visible above a clump of grass. He did his best to part the Shawnee's hair.

  That seemed to decide them. Reid and Livi watched the men creep back across the field, leading their horses. They watched until they mounted up and disappeared into the trees.

  With a sigh, Livi leaned back against the boulder and closed her eyes. "I'll take care of your arm in a minute, all right?" From the sound of her voice, he could tell she was trembling.

  "It's nothing much. It's probably stopped bleeding on its own by—" Reid looked across at her and pulled up short. "What happened to your hair?"

  Livi opened eyes that were blurred with tears. "Captain Weems cut off my braid with his s-s-sword."

  Reid cursed under his breath. He reached to take her in his arms, but Livi held her ground.

  "He said I didn't have the courage to shoot him. That if I had been brave enough, I would have killed him the night that David died."

  "You shot Weems today," he offered softly.

  Her eyes shone fierce and wet. "I had no choice. I needed to ransom Little David."

  Reid stared, stunned and awed by the change in her. Somehow Livi Talbot had learned to fight. She had learned to protect her own. She had proved herself worthy of this harsh new land. Yet the softness was with her still, the womanliness, the remorse and regret. She'd done what she had to do without compromising herself or her humanity.

  They stayed there hunkered down among the rocks until Livi was ready to leave. When she was, Reid made sure all their weapons were loaded, helped her mount, squeezing ankle when he was done. Then he led their way out of the valley.

  They traveled most of the day. Livi didn't ask where they were going. She didn't have to.

  After killing Weems to get the sacred disks, Reid knew she wasn't about to be left behind while he went to negotiate the baby's return. And she'd more than earned the right to be there.

  They stopped at dusk. The trails to the south were too treacherous to navigate at night, and Reid could see that Livi was done in. Besides, there were things they needed to discuss.

  While they shared parched corn and the fish he'd caught, Livi told Reid about the Creeks' visit to the cabin. He'd heard most of the story from Eustace, but Livi filled in the gaps.

  "The men who came, the three leaders, represented various factions of the tribe," he explained when she was done. "The one who was painted white was one of the Holy Men. He came with them to handle the disks, since not everyone can touch them. The one who translated was the Interpreter, an advisor to the Miko, the chief. The third—"

  "Red Hand," Livi offered helpfully.

  Reid's gut tightened. It was Heart of the Wolf, Red Hand's younger brother, he had accidentally kill
ed all those years before. It was Red Hand's clan that had taken his uncle's life in retaliation.

  "Red Hand is a War Chief," Reid explained. "That's why he was painted red."

  "He said such terrible things," she murmured, and Reid could hear the tears in her voice. "He said they'd sacrifice Little David if I didn't bring him the plates. He said they'd burn him in the sacred fire to appease the Master of Breath."

  Reid had never seen that happen, but he'd heard tales of babies being sacrificed that way. If Red Hand made a threat, there was no question that he would carry it out, especially if he thought the baby was Reid's son.

  "It isn't going to be easy to get Little David back—even now that we have the plates," he told her. "You must do exactly what I tell you when we reach the village.

  "Everything depends on how the plates are returned. Everything depends on whether I can convince the council that the plates were not defamed while they were in my care." He looked at her long and hard. "My reacceptance by the tribe after all this time will determine whether the council will exchange the plates for Little David."

  She nodded and swiped at her eyes. "What must I do?"

  "When we reach the Creek encampment, I'll leave you with the women of my family, if they agree. You must stay with them and do exactly what they tell you to do while I prepare myself to address the council. You must not admit to seeing the plates. You must not admit to touching them."

  "I never touched the plates."

  Reid nodded before continuing. "The Creeks believe that a woman's touch profanes all sacred objects. They must never suspect that anyone besides one of their own has touched them. Even I will be suspect after living among the whites for all these years."

  "Then why did you give one of the plates to David?"

  It was a question Reid wasn't sure he could answer. It had to do with his ambivalence about who and what he was, with not wanting to accept the entire responsibility for something so precious to his tribe.

  "I thought that if anything happened to me," he answered slowly, "David could return at least one of the plates. And I told him where I'd hidden the other."

  "But if you recovered the plates at Vincennes," Livi asked, "why didn't you return them long before this?"

  "Because there wasn't time. Because I never had the chance."

  Because I'm afraid to go back. Because I've never been able to face that part of who I am.

  "Are you sure they're taking care of Little David?" Livi asked softly, moving to other things. "Are they holding him and seeing he gets enough to eat?"

  "The Creeks love their children, Livi. Even the ones who aren't really theirs."

  He saw that she was crying again and drew her toward the bed he had made for them. She needed rest and comforting.

  When they were settled, Livi raised her head. "Do you think Tad and Cissy are all right?"

  "When I was at the cabin Eustace was taking good care of them."

  She nestled closer. "It's going to be all right, isn't it?"

  Reid wished he knew.

  "Of course it is," he lied and stroked her ravaged hair.

  "Oh, Reid," she whispered after a moment and sought his mouth with hers.

  He kissed her in return, emotion rising inside him. Tenderness tinged with regret. Sorrow and fear and elation. Loving so strong he ached with it.

  He felt her hands on his skin. Felt her fingers skim along his ribs. Felt the nudge of her heavy breasts against his chest. And he caught fire.

  He rolled over her, needing the press of their bodies length to length. Needing the taste of her in his mouth. Needing the welcome in her touch. Needing the lift of her hips against him.

  When she pulled him closer, they barely had time to remove their clothes. Then he was inside her, sharing sensation and emotion so deep he wasn't sure where he ended and she began. Merging solace and elation. Blending sweetness and searing heat. Joining flesh to flesh and heart to heart.

  He closed his eyes and felt her fly with him into a haven of pure sensation. He felt her cling to him in the maelstrom as tightly as he was clinging to her. He felt her settle against him when the loving was past, languid and replete, all tenderness and trust.

  He held her close in the aftermath, offering warmth and comfort and succor. He held her close because she needed to be held. He held her close because never before in his life had he been so very much afraid.

  Chapter 23

  They rode all the next day and half the night. They slept; they rose; they rode again. Livi clung to her saddle by dint of will, plodding after Reid from dawn to well past dark. Sometimes only the conviction that her child was waiting at the end of the ride kept Livi moving forward.

  It was late afternoon on the third day when they arrived on the crest of a river bluff overlooking the Creek settlement. Tucked into a wide, level spot at the bend of the river, the town was organized around two large buildings and a central square. Livi could see that in every direction houses clustered around individual quadrangles, with the rich, deep red of newly turned fields at their sides and backs. She had never imagined that the savages who'd stolen her son could live in such a peaceful and orderly fashion.

  As her gaze ran over the compound, she knew Little David was down there somewhere. She took comfort in Reid assuring her that no matter what Red Hand had threatened, the Creeks would care for her child.

  Beside her, Reid sat silent. The set of his shoulders, the turn of his lips, the distance in his eyes all made Livi think he was preparing himself for his return to the village. Only the necessity of exchanging the disks for her son had brought him back to the place he had fled so long ago.

  Livi wanted to thank him and offer what succor she could, but Reid had withdrawn from her in the last three days. He hadn't touched her since they'd made love. He hadn't helped her mount or dismount, hadn't so much as brushed her hand. He hadn't slept with her or spoken a word more than necessary. Livi understood that the change in him had something to do with returning to this place. He would never have come here except to get Little David back for her.

  They rode into the village on a wide, well-kept street with houses grouped on either side. Some were sturdy, rectangular dwellings plastered with mud and roofed with bark. Some were large and open, constructed with log uprights from which two distinct floors had been suspended.

  Without giving Livi any indication of where they were going, Reid rode toward the center of the village and turned into a complex on the right. Their arrival in the courtyard caused a stir. Women cooking over the fire and scraping skins looked up from their work. Children ran into the house to announce their arrival.

  Just as Reid and Livi were dismounting, an older woman emerged amidst a spill of children. Thick black braids liberally laced with silver were twined around her head. Her lined face was etched with both the joys and trials of life.

  For a moment she hesitated, staring at Reid. Then all at once she smiled and hurried toward them.

  "Ravens Flight, you were barely more than a boy when I saw you last," the woman greeted him in English.

  "And you were weeping for your brother, tckutci, because of my recklessness."

  "Though I wept, I knew it was our way. I accepted his death. You did not." A silent reprimand hung between them before the woman went on. "But why have you returned to us after so much time?"

  "Don't you know why I'm here, tckutci?" Reid asked.

  For a moment the woman pursed her lips, as if deciding how much she would admit. "I know Red Hand brought back a child he says is your son. He has promised that the boy will be sacrificed unless you return the sacred disks."

  "That's why I've come."

  The woman's eyes warmed. "And you have the sacred disks?"

  Reid lifted his brows in a gesture that indicated he had no intention of answering her. "Is the child well?"

  "We have heard that he is being cared for by Red Hand's daughter."

  "Here in the village?" Reid asked.

  The woman s
hook her head. "In the red village upriver. Red Hand put him with her because he claims you will try to take the child by force since you can not return the disks to us. Now that you have come, the woman and child will be guarded night and day."

  Livi saw the color come up in Reid's face. "Does Red Hand think so little of my honor?"

  "Red Hand and his clan have always wished ill to us of your grandmother's blood, but many will believe what Red Hand claims." When Reid said nothing, she went on. "Some think The Hair Buyer destroyed the disks. Others believe he gave the plates to the Shawnee to fulfill the ancient prophecy. Some think the hawk-faced Englishman will return our sacred disks only if we continue fighting the settlers."

  "And what do you think?"

  "I think," the woman answered slowly, "you would not have come back unless you had a reason."

  "Then will you help us?"

  The woman smiled. "My door has always been open to you, hopwiwa."

  Reid gestured Livi forward. "This is the boy's mother," he said. "She is known as Livi Talbot. Livi, this is my aunt, She Who Heals. You will be staying here with her."

  Fear of being abandoned made Livi's heart beat faster. "What do you mean that I will be staying with her?" she whispered. "Where will you be?"

  "Nearby," he said, and gestured for her to follow She Who Heals into the house.

  It was dark and warm inside, though the coals in the fire pit at the center of large rectangular room were barely burning. As Livi's eyes adjusted to the dimness and the smoke hanging in the air, she could see that the space was ringed with couches or beds made from woven sticks and covered with mats and skins. Raised nearly three feet off the floor, the beds provided a wide, deep space beneath, into which the occupants had crammed boxes and sacks. Simple clothing hung from hooks along the wall, as did assorted pots, bison horn dishes, and cooking utensils.

  The children who seemed to follow She Who Heals everywhere peered at Reid and her with bright-eyed curiosity. Though their perusal was more subtle, the people working at a variety of tasks either on the floor or benches clearly wondered about their presence, too.

  She Who Heals led Livi to a couch to the left of the door. "This will be yours," she said.