''They are both no good," Melanie whispered, flinching when she heard the loud bang of Terrance's door as he finally reached his room. "I've grown used to it. Will Shane be able to? Josh can be intolerable at times, especially after he's had a few too many drinks."
Now that she was awake and eager to start the day, Melanie threw her robe aside. Today she planned to spend most of her time with Shane. He needed to know so much! Not only how to read and write, but everything about cattle farming. She wanted to be there for him, to teach him everything. Hadn't he taught her some valuable lessons in the short time she had known him? He had taught her the true meaning of compassion. He had led her down the path of true romance.
Going to her armoire, Melanie ran her hands
through her clothes. She stopped at the fringed buckskin skirt. It was the most comfortable. She would wear it. She planned to spend some time on her horse today, and the buckskin skirt would give her more freedom of movement.
With no further thought of Terrance, Melanie hurried into her skirt and white, long-sleeved blouse, then yanked on her knee-high leather boots. After taking several quick strokes with a brush through her hair, she tied it back from her face with a yellow ribbon. Ready to challenge this new day, she left the room.
But when she stepped out into the hallway and saw the broken bottle and the whiskey spread across the golden grains of the wood floor, her anger at her brother returned. Tapping the toe of her boot on the floor, she looked toward Terrance's room. He could not get away with this careless behavior forever! Something had to be done to make him aware of just how disgusting he had become!
"I guess that little chore is mine," she whispered, stomping determinedly to Terrance's room.
Angrily, she jerked the door open, then shuddered with distaste when she saw her brother sprawled across the bed, still fully clothed. His snores reverberated around the room. The stench of alcohol was so strong, it made Melanie's stomach feel as though it were being turned inside out.
Terrance was sleeping on his stomach, his face turned toward her. A growth of whiskers was dark on his chin, but not dark enough to hide the lipstick that was smeared across his mouth and
cheek. His shirt was half unbuttoned and only partially tucked into the waistband of his breeches. His dark, tangled hair was sprayed across the bedspread.
"You had yourself quite a night, didn't you, big brother?" Melanie said beneath her breath. "You plan to sleep a good portion of the day away, don't you?" She looked toward the pitcher of water that sat beside the basin on his nightstand. "Well, we'll just see about that."
Melanie circled her fingers around the handle of the pitcher and lifted it from the table. Positioning it over her brother's head, she emptied the water from it onto his face.
Awakened with a start, Terrance yowled and bolted from the bed. His eyes were wild as he rubbed the water from his face. "Goddamn it all to hell, Melanie!" he screeched, looking at her through his fuzzy, drunken vision. "What'd you do that for?"
Melanie put the empty pitcher on the table and brushed past Terrance as she walked toward the door. "Seems I came in here for a drink and when I began pouring the water from the pitcher I just somehow failed to have a glass there to catch it," she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. "My, oh my, Terranceseems I've awakened you. I couldn't be sorrier. Why, look at you. You look like something the dogs dragged in."
Laughing, she left the room. She rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grabbing a carrot for her horse and an apple for herself, she stepped out into the brisk morning air. Inhaling deeply,
she looked across the wide pasture at Shane's house. Was he awake also? Was he eager to see her? How soon would he come?
Going to the stable, she went to her horse's stall. "Good morning, Sugar," she said, offering her bay gelding the carrot. "And it will be a good morning. I'll be with Shane again!"
She led her horse from the stable and began brushing its mane, taking occasional glances at the road that led from Shane's house, to hers.
Sparrows were awakening and making a racket in the trees just outside Shane's bedroom window. This, and having to sleep another night on a mattress instead of on a soft pile of bear furs on the floor of his wigwam at the Chippewa village, made him awaken with a groan.
When he heard the creaking of floorboards out in the corridor, his spine stiffened and he slowly reached for his knife that he had slept with under his blankets. Slipping his fingers around the handle of his knife, he began easing his weapon along the side of his body.
Breathing shallowly, he watched the door open slowly. His eyes narrowed when the shape of a man filled out the spaces in the doorway, a man whose outline was defined by the soft lamplight emanating from behind him in the hall. It was Shane's brother, Josh. He had surely just arrived back home after being gone all night, gambling and drinking. Even with the full length of the room separating them, Shane could smell the
powerful stench of alcohol wafting across the room from his brother.
Waiting to see what Josh was going to do, Shane did not move a hair, and the room was still too dark for his eyes to meet and challenge his brother's.
But the feelings were strong without words even being spoken. Shane could hear his brother's heavy breathing. He could feel the hate radiating from Josh and wondered why it had to be that way. Shane had no feelings one way or the other for his brother, for the years had stolen away from him his memories of a brother's love, but he saw no reason why this love could not be rekindled now.
But jealousy was at the root of many a falling-out, even between brothers. Recalling the lawyer's warning that Josh might try to harm him, Shane kept his fingers circled around the handle of his knife. But then his brother turned and stumbled away in a drunken stupor.
Shane perked up his ears and listened for Josh's door to open and close. When it did, he lay his knife aside and rose slowly from the bed. For a moment he hung his face in his hands, recalling the sadness of the previous day. He had lost a father he had just become acquainted with again. What in life was fair? What?
Stepping to the window and drawing aside the heavy drapery, Shane peered across the wide pasture at Melanie's house. At this early hour of morning, she was probably still asleep. Before
going to meet her, he had time to ride into the forest for a time of meditation, to reflect on where he was in life. Although he had Melanie's devoted love and his dying father's assurance that his future was secure, Shane felt anything but comfortable with his new life. His thoughts strayed too often to the life he knew before. Only a few days separated him from what had been. His heart cried out to see Cedar Maid and to ride alongside his faithful companion, Red Raven. How could Gray Falcon have denied him so much? How?
And there was the constant nagging itch to leave everything behind to go and search for Trapper Dan. "Let him have a few more days to feel smug about life," he whispered, his eyes filled with fire. "That will give me more time to anticipate victory over him. Waiting always enhances the pleasure!"
Dropping the drapery back in place, Shane turned to look at the fancy clothes hung across the back of a plush, upholstered chair. They were stiff and cold compared to his buckskins. His buckskins were warm, like a second flesh. He saw no reason not to wear them, at least this one more morning until the other, more casual clothes were ready for him at the shop in St. Paul.
Shane dressed quickly in his buckskin attire, even his soft, comfortable moccasins. Fitting his sheathed knife at his waist, he left the room and moved stealthily along the narrow hallway. He looked toward his brother's closed door, hearing the rumbling of drunken snores. This brother of his had been a disappointment to his father and Shane now understood all too well why! Josh did
not know how to do anything in moderation, especially drinking. When he gambled, did he also do that blindly, carelessly?
Perhaps one day Shane would get the opportunity to teach Josh the art of restraint. He would show him that a man played poker much more s
killfully when he was sober!
Smiling, he rushed down the stairs and outside. Going to the stable, he took his stallion from its stall and patting the horse fondly he saddled it, led it outside, mounted it, and rode away.
The bellowing of cattle drew Shane's eyes admiringly to their long horns glistening in the early morning light. Then his gaze was averted. His heart skipped a beat when he saw someone approaching quickly on a horse, riding up the long lane that led to the house.
"Red Raven?" Shane said, his blood turning cold in his veins when he saw that his friend wore no smile of greeting on his face. He was somber, and streaks of black had been painted on his brow and across his high cheekbones.
Had someone died?
A feeling of foreboding washed over Shane. Red Raven would not have Gray Falcon's permission to come to Shane with any news of their people, for Shane was the same as dead to the new chief now that he had been banished from the tribe. Red Raven had come on his own.
To defy the new chief, the news that he carried to Shane could not be good.
Sinking his heels into the flanks of his horse, Shane sent his stallion galloping hard until he
reached Red Raven. Drawing his reins tautly, he stopped alongside his friend, eying him warily. "My friend, why have you come?" he asked, his voice drawn. "I see much in your eyes that is not good. What news have you brought to me?"
Red Raven, attired in only a brief loincloth and moccasins, a beaded headband holding his coal black hair back from his face, reached a hand to Shane's shoulder. "Shane, nee-mah-tah-bin, it is good to see you," he said. "But I have not come for a friendly visit. You have guessed right. There is much that troubles me."
Shane shifted uneasily in his saddle. "Tell me, Red Raven, what is in your heart?"
"The news is about Cedar Maid," Red Raven said, lowering his hand from Shane's shoulder. He cast his eyes downward. "My bride price was not large enough. She has become another man's woman. She is no longer in our village. She was forced to leave with the man who paid many horses and pelts for her."
Shane flinched as though shot. With trembling fingers, he reached a hand to Red Raven's shoulder and pressed his fingers firmly into his bare copper flesh. "Gray Falcon did this?" he growled. "He traded her off as though she were no more than aa dog?"
"That is so," Red Raven said, nodding. "She is gone."
"Cedar Maid is gone?" Shane said, easing his hand back to his reins, clutching them so hard that the leather bit into his flesh. He squared his
shoulders. "Who was this man who came into the Chippewa village and paid for my sister?"
Red Raven rose his eyes slowly upward. They wavered when he found Shane looking at him so intensely. "Shane, it is not an easy thing to tell you," he said, swallowing hard. "How do I?"
"What do you mean?" Shane asked. "Why are you finding it so hard to tell me who paid the price for Cedar Maid? Is it someone I know and do not care for?"
"It is someone you have never met," Red Raven said. He rested a hand on the pommel of his saddle. "But you know of him. He is a man of your past and of your worst nightmares."
A shudder coursed through Shane. There was only one man of his past who had troubled his dreams! "You are speaking of Trapper Dan?" he said, almost choking on the words. He was dying a slow death inside at the thought of sweet and gentle Cedar Maid forced to be attentive to such a vile man!
"It was he," Red Raven said, nodding. "I was there. I looked into his eyes. They turned me cold inside, Shane, for I knew, at that moment, exactly who he was!"
"Did you tell Gray Falcon?"
"Yes, I told him."
"And he still accepted the bride price for Cedar Maid?"
"Ay-uh, that is so."
Shane looked quickly away from Red Raven, so distraught he could hardly hold himself at bay. He
wanted to shout! He wanted to wail to the tree-tops!
But he would not. He had placed all of his Indian ways behind him.
However, he would use the skills the Chippewa had taught him to track down the trapper and kill him. He would take Cedar Maid away from him and bring her to his home. She would live in peace with him.
Red Raven sidled his horse closer to Shane's. "What do we do about Trapper Dan and what he has done?" he asked, his voice solemn.
Shane turned his eyes back to Red Raven. They were clouded with emotion. "Do you even have to ask?" he said flatly. "Do you travel with me? Or do I travel alone?"
"Need you ask?" Red Raven said, setting his jaw firmly.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Shane said, flicking his reins and sinking his heels into his horse's flanks. He rode away, Red Raven alongside him. All thoughts of Melanieall thoughts of anyone or anything elsewere banished from his mind. Only Cedar Maid and her welfare mattered now. If anything happened to her, it would be his fault, for he had placed everything else before finding the evil trapper who had been close to the village on the very day that Shane had been ordered to leave!
In truth, it would be Gray Falcon's fault if anything happened to Cedar Maid, for if Shane had been allowed to stay with the Chippewa, he would have been there when Trapper Dan had
arrived. Trapper Dan would have never left the village alive. As it was, Gray Falcon had succeeded in total revenge against Shane by selling Cedar Maid to the man responsible for Shane's mother's death!
His eager stallion pounded the earth as they rode away from the farm.
Melanie looked toward Shane's house again, then dropped her brush with alarm when she saw him riding away alongside an Indian! Was he leaving? Was he returning to the Indians? Did Josh do something to him in the night to make him want to leave?
Fearing all of these things, Melanie's fingers trembled as she slipped the stirrup on her horse. She didn't take time for a saddle. She had to catch up with Shane. She had to know the reason he was riding away as though in desperation! She had to stop him. Somehow, she had to dissuade him from leaving!
Gripping her knees against the horse, Melanie snapped the reins and began riding in a strong gallop away from her farm. The brisk wind tore the ribbon from her hair. The early morning air seeped through her blouse, chilling her clean through. But her eyes never left Shane as he thundered away in his buckskin attire toward the incline that would take him upward, into the depths of the forest.
Afraid that she would lose sight of him once he blended into the forest, Melanie snapped her reins harder against her horse. She leaned low over her
mount's flying mane. She was gaining ground! She was going to catch up with him.
''Shane!" she screamed, squaring her shoulders as she straightening her back. "Shane! Stop! Oh, please stop!"
Terrance had heard Melanie riding away on her horse. He stumbled from his bed and drew the drapery aside and peered through the window. He kneaded his chin as he looked at Melanie riding toward Shane, and frowned. Where was Shane going in such a hurry? Why was Melanie following him?
Then he focused his attention on the Indian riding alongside Shane. He smiled crookedly. "Well, I'll be damned," he drawled. "Shane's friend has come and got him. He's going back to the Indians!"
Dizziness claimed him. He reeled, catching himself as he grabbed the back of a chair. A sick feeling swept through him and he understood why. He had been ill many times before after a full night of drinking, gambling and womanizing. Today was no different. He needed sleep. That would make it all pass.
Forgetting Melanie in his need of rest, Terrance stumbled back to the bed and plopped face down across it.
Sleep quickly claimed him again.
Shane's spine stiffened when he heard Melanie's voice from somewhere behind him. He drew the reins tautly and wheeled his horse around. Breath-
ing shallowly, he watched her riding hard toward him. He took her reins as she stopped alongside him, her hair tangled, her eyes wild.
"Shane, where are you going?" Melanie asked, breathless. She looked at Red Raven. Attired in only a brief loincloth and with black paint st
reaked across his face, he looked no less than threatening.
"Why are you leaving with him?" She implored Shane with tear-filled eyes. "Shane, please don't leave. You can't! Things will get better between you and your brother. Please give it a chance!"
"What I am doing has nothing to do with Josh," Shane said, his blue eyes filled with emotion. "Nothing at all."
"Then what?" Melanie persisted, reaching to touch his hand. "Why are you leaving so hastily? Where are you going?"
"My friend, Red Raven, has brought me troubling news," Shane explained quietly, casting Red Raven a glance as his friend edged his horse close to Shane's.
"What sort of news?" Melanie asked, looking guardedly at Red Raven.
"It is about Cedar Maid," Shane said.
Melanie was aware of the sudden pain in Shane's eyes at the mention of Cedar Maid. She could tell that the news about her could not be good. She was almost afraid to ask further about her, yet she had to know. Anything that had to do with Shane now, had to do with her!
"Shane, what about Cedar Maid?" she asked weakly. "What has happened?"
"She is no longer with the Chippewa," Shane said, anger suddenly flaring in his eyes. "A great bride price was paid for her. She now travels with a white man. This white man is the same man who stole from my mother's dead body! It is the man with the peculiar eyes! He has returned to steal from me again!"
Melanie grew cold inside at Shane's vehemence. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "That's terrible."
"He will not have Cedar Maid for long," Shane said, narrowing his eyes. "By nightfall she will be mine. She will make residence in my house. She will be safe with me, forever."
Jealousy stung Melanie's insides. Could Shane's strong feelings for Cedar Maid be more than that for a sister? She swallowed back a lump that was invading her throat. "Then you intend to go and take her from this man?" she asked, her voice drawn.
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