"She's out back. Just go around the house and you'll find her."
Kitty mumbled her thanks and walked toward the back of the house.
The young woman sat on the back stoop, holding a young baby in her arms. She sat rocking the child in her arms and singing softly to it. A look of fear mixed with surprise crossed her face when she saw Kitty standing there.
"Hello, Sage," Kitty said softly.
"Have I done something wrong? Was your bath not warm enough—or, maybe too hot?"
"Oh, no, no. Everything was fine. I was just hoping you could help me."
A look of relief crossed the girl's face.
Kitty stepped closer to the girl and asked, "May I sit?"
Sage moved over so Kitty could sit next to her.
"I’m looking for a man. His name is Brady Wells. I thought perhaps you would know him."
A sly smile touched the girl's lips. "And why is it you want to find this Brady Wells?"
"Ahh, it's a long story. Years ago, Brady made a promise to me—that if I wasn't married by the time I was twenty-one, he would marry me."
"So this man, do you believe him? I mean if he were not married, do you believe he would marry you?"
Kitty worried her bottom lip. "I don't know," she answered truthfully. "But I've got to find out, so I can—decide what to do, one way or the other." A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Sage smiled a knowing smile up at her. "I do understand. I, too, am wondering what I should do. Should I stay here and wait for the man who promised me he loved me, or take his son and go back and live with my people? People who would love my son and care for me—but still, I am afraid if I leave, how will my man find me and his son?"
Kitty stroked the top of the baby's cloud of midnight black hair with her fingertip. "He is a fine son. One any father would be proud of."
A smile of pride wove its way over Sage's lips.
"I do know of this man, Brady Wells. In answer to your question, he is not married. Although, many of the women here, as you say, have set their caps for him."
Relief filled Kitty. Brady wasn't married. But then, a new set of worries worked their way into her mind. Others wanted him.
"Please, can you tell me where to find him?" she asked, desperation edging her voice.
“I will do even more. I will draw you a map."
Chapter Six
Early the next morning, Kitty was up at dawn. Golden rays of sunlight spilled into the room through her curtained window. She looked out at a cloudless sky, filled with shades of purple, blue, and gold. She quickly dressed in her best traveling suit, a light gray jacket with lace edging around the cuffs and neck, with silver buttons, and a matching slim skirt that whispered down to the tops of her white kid boots. She arranged her golden curls into a soft bun at the back of her head and then put on a wide-brimmed hat decorated with silk flowers. When she was finished, she stood before the mirror and looked at herself with a critical eye. Satisfied with her appearance, she packed up the rest of her few belongings and made her way downstairs.
With the map Sage had drawn her held tightly in her hand, Kitty made her way to the livery stable. After a good night's rest, she felt she could take on the world this morning as she paid for the horse and buggy and made her way out of town.
The sun shone down on her as she reached the crest of the hill going out of the city. A vista of spectacular views met her gaze as she looked at the land Brady had settled. The scent of pine trees filled her senses, crystals of every shape and color lay where the pitted road had been dug out for easier travel. Kitty promised herself she would stop and take some with her if she ever came across this spot again. The sun's rays danced off the waters of a lake that ran alongside the roadway. As she made her way off the mountain and followed the deeply rutted road, her heart filled with nervous hope.
As she traveled along lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the black clouds that descended off the mountains and moved south. The sound of a deer running through the thicket had her looking up. A smile crossed her lips as she saw a young fawn nervously following behind its mother. So engrossed was she, that she didn't see the predator waiting at the edge of a boulder alongside the road sunning itself. Its light brown and dark pattern blended perfectly with the color of the boulder. The sound of the horse's screams made her look up quickly.
As the startled horse raised up and thrashed about, pawing the air with its hoofs, the perfectly camouflaged rattler coiled and struck out. The horse raced off frantically, surging across the meadow, mindless of the rocks and boulders that dotted the landscape. Kitty tried desperately to pull the horse to a stop, but all her commands to stop, and pulling vigorously on the reins did nothing to halt the frightened horse.
The grinding sound of a wheel crashing against a large rock filled the air. Kitty went airborne amidst the first snowflakes that had just begun. Her screams echoed across the valley seconds before her body landed in a heap with a hard thud, knocking the air from her lungs. A sharp, searing pain jolted through her as her head smacked against a jutted rock.
****
The snow had picked up its pace since Brady first ventured out to bring his cattle in from the high meadow. The past few days, he'd seen warning signs that the weather was in for a big change, but he'd ignored them. It had been such a warm winter, he'd thought they were just due for an early spring. From the front steps of his porch, he'd watched as the black clouds gathered to the north and the wind picked up, bringing with it a chill that seeped into his bones. He'd been quick to saddle up Cash and head out.
By late afternoon, the snow was deep enough to cover Cash's chest as he plowed through it. White puffs of air blew from his nostrils as he battled the heavy snow and freezing winds. His eyelids were covered with frozen beads of ice. Brady sat astride his horse, his head bent against the swirling snow and harsh winds that buffeted him. He'd managed to get his herd down to shelters he'd placed about the three-hundred-twenty acres he'd acquired over the past three years. One thing he'd learned while working on the Triple C Ranch was to have enough shelter for his herd and extra feed available in case of inclement weather. Funny, he mused, as he looked through the swirling snow, it had been three years ago today since he left the Triple C and—
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horse whimpering off in the distance. Why, it wasn't fit for man or beast out here. He kneed Cash in the withers. The horse seemed to understand the need to hurry, and lunged farther into the storm. Through a veil of white, the silhouette of a dark horse emerged. Brady slowed Cash to a stop and climbed out of the saddle. The snow stood in drifts up to his waist. He talked softly to the horse as he assessed it. It was still hitched to the wagon which was now wedged between a huge stack of boulders, minus a wheel.
"Whoa, now, boy," he crooned.
The horse stomped its hooves, and its eyes were wild with fear.
"Where's your passenger, boy?"
As the horse settled itself at the sound of his soft voice, he unhitched it from the buggy. Once free, without so much as a backward glance, the horse took off and headed for the hills.
Brady looked around. Snowflakes clung to his lashes and covered his face as he peered out into the darkness. The snow had blotted out the late afternoon sun and night was coming fast. He whispered up a quick prayer for the bastard that was lost out in this mess. If he didn't find him soon, it would mean certain death.
He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Hello! Hello!"
As he walked in the direction the horse had come from, out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red and green color. He walked closer and bent down to dig through the snow, as his fingers connected with the object, he pulled it out, brushing the snow away. It was a bag, all covered with flowers. No self-respecting man would be caught dead with a piece of frilly luggage. No, in these parts, most men traveled with saddle bags.
Fear started to eat away at his gut. It would be one thing to lose a man to freezing, but a wo
man... Now, that just seemed doubly wrong. He walked a bit farther. His leg bumped against something buried in the snow. At first he thought it was a rock or a boulder, but as he bent to brush away the snow, he saw it was body. Fear raced through him, and his hands dug down deeply, pushing away the snow. The form started to take shape. A cry rose up in his throat as he saw blonde hair, a soft face with cherry red lips.
"Oh, my God…Little Bit!"
Chapter Seven
His hands shook with fear as he frantically pushed the snow away and lifted her from the white cocoon where she lay. A lump rose in his throat as he carried her back to where Cash stood patiently. She was so cold. He cradled her in his arms as he mounted his horse. All the way back to his ranch, he prayed. He rubbed her hands and stroked her face, talking to her the entire way.
He stepped from his saddle and made his way up the steps to the wide front porch of his home. With his booted foot, he kicked at the front door. A woman in her mid-forties with black hair worn in a single braid down her back answered the door, ushering him inside.
"Oh, my, who is this?" The woman’s black-brown eyes widened with concern.
"Kiya, this is the one I call Little Bit. I've spoken of her."
"Ahh, your woman. The one you wait for," she answered.
Brady's face flushed and heated. "Now—now, I never said I wait for her. I mean, I—"
"All is well," she answered, patting his arm with her warm hands. "We will talk of this later. Now, I will see to her. Take her into your room and lay her on the bed."
Relieved, Brady laid Kitty on the quilted bed. For a while there, he didn't know if he'd make it back without them both freezing to death. He watched as Kiya brushed away soft curls of blonde hair from the girl's face, taking special care not to touch the black and blue bruise on her temple. Brady helped her take the sodden clothes off Kitty's body, mindful to look away as she lay naked. Kiya wrapped her in the patch-work quilt from the bed. She walked out of the room and into the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a bowl filled with things she would need, including a handful of crushed wild indigo root and dried leaves to place on the bruise on Kitty's head. The plant would heal the bruise and also reduce any pain she was having.
"Brady, go into the kitchen and bring me a cup of hot water from the kettle. Add a bit of honey to it to sweeten the water."
Brady hurried to the kitchen and took a tin mug from the pine shelf. His hands shook from exhaustion as he picked up the kettle from the wood-burning stove and poured the boiling water. He added the honey as Kiya had told him, and then walked back into the room.
Already, the white-blue coloring that had covered Kitty's face was easing. In its place was the normal soft pink color of her skin.
Kiya took the cup from him and added the dried leaves of horsemint to the water. “This will help to relieve her fever, if she should develop one, and also ease the pain of her sore muscles.”
Kitty coughed and sputtered as Brady eased her into a sitting position, and Kiya carefully poured the concoction down her throat.
After seeing her settled back on the bed, Kiya sent Brady to fetch two large rocks from the hearth of the fireplace. As Brady handed her the warmed rocks, she placed a small crystal in each of the palms of Kitty's hands and then she wrapped the two larger rocks in cloths and placed them at the bottom of her feet. She walked to the stand where she'd placed a large shell and lit the sage and sweet-grass she'd tied together. As the smoke started to rise, she lifted an eagle's feather and fanned the flames, chanting all the while.
Exhaustion seeped through every inch of Brady's body, leaving him bone weary and barely able to stand. There was nothing more for him to do but wait, now. He walked out of the room and took a seat before the fire. He rubbed his hands together and held them toward the heat.
Although he was too tired to move and sleep beckoned to him, his busy mind wouldn't let him rest. What on earth was Little Bit doing here? Maybe something happened at the ranch and she'd come for his help. He shook his head. But Jasper hadn’t mentioned any troubles at the Triple C in his letters… A wry smile touched his lips. Jasper had also written of the many suitors Kitty had run off…and ended by saying, ‘She isn't one to let no man push her around.’
Kiya stepped into the room. "Toska, she sleeps. She will probably sleep through the night. There is food in the oven. I will come back in the morning. But for now, I must go to Red Eagle—he waits for me to feed him, and warm his bed. "
A sly smile touched her face as she bent and kissed him on the cheek. "Maybe this night, Little Bit will warm your bed—and your heart." She walked to the front door, opened it and stepped out. Brady stood and watched her as she walked from his front door to the small cottage he had built for her and her husband.
****
Brady returned to sit by the fire and warm himself, his thoughts returning to the past. He’d only been in Hill City a short time after arriving in South Dakota. Finding the land he wanted to homestead, and land that would attach to that property, was no easy feat. He'd been a bit luckier than others, though. With the gold rush at French Creek, many homesteaders caught gold fever and sold everything they owned to buy a stake on the banks of the creek. While he searched for the perfect location for his ranch, he'd stayed in town in a two-story boarding house with green shutters. While there, he met a young Lakota Sioux woman called Sage.
The two had become good friends. Sage had invited him to come to her village to visit with her people. One of his reasons for coming to this area of South Dakota had been the small bits of information that had been left with the sisters at the orphanage…his mother was a Lakota Sioux, and he hoped to find someone who might know her.
"Mother, we are here," Sage had announced as she pulled back the heavy buffalo rug that covered the doorway into the tipi.
A woman in her mid–forties turned from her work as she sat stirring meat in a big vat. Her black–brown eyes met Brady's—and held.
"Who are your people?" she’d asked, getting up slowly and coming to stand in front of him.
A look of surprise and embarrassment covered Sage's face. Never had she brought a guest home to have her mother act so strangely. "Mother?"
Brady's face heated. This woman was looking at him so intently, as though she was looking directly into his soul. He cleared his throat and said. "My father was a trapper, his name was—"
"Your father is a trapper named Joshua Wells. Your mother's name is Mina."
Brady had stared at her. "How do you know this?" he stammered.
"Because, I am your tunwi—your aunt! Your mother is my younger sister—she was very young when your father took her from us." Her voice filled with excitement as she asked. "Is she here with you? Is she in Hill City?"
Brady's face fell and he shook his head. "I never knew my mother. She died giving birth to me. My father died soon after. I was raised in an orphanage. I know nothing of them except what information was given to the sisters at the orphanage where I was raised.”
The look of pure joy on Kiya's face faded as tears formed in her eyes. Her hand went to her throat and her bottom lip trembled. She had reached out and pulled Brady to her. "You are my toska— my nephew. We are your people. We are your family."
From that day on, Brady had family. In the three years he'd been here, they'd helped him build his ranch from something he'd only dreamed of; to a ranch that he could truly be proud of. In return, Brady had built Kiya and her husband Red Eagle a cottage. His aunt cooked and cleaned for him, along with every now and then, throwing in a little motherly advice.
Chapter Eight
His thoughts returned to Little Bit as he stared into the flames, finally starting to get warmed up. Why is she here? She’s traveled hundreds of miles—
He got up from his seat before the fire and walked around the room. This train of thought held no answers. He walked back into his bedroom. There she lay, with her hair shimmering in the firelight like spun gold against the white of the pillow.
Her cheeks were pink in sleep, and her thick lashes lay black against her warm cheeks. She was so beautiful. His heart hammered in his chest. He'd nearly lost her. And if he had, her death would have been blood on his hands.
He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. With a gentle finger, he traced the side of her cheek. It was so soft. She murmured something in her sleep, and he smiled. For the first time since he'd been home, he realized his clothes were still damp from being out in the storm… not wanting to give her a chill, he pulled off his wet clothes and slipped beneath the quilt. He lay beside her, just wanting to rest. Hearing the soft sound of her breathing was the last thing he remembered as sleep claimed him.
****
Kitty woke with a start. Where was she? Moonlight spilled into the room, giving her a shadowy image of a man lying beside her. A scream welled up in her throat and lodged there.
Brady felt her move and was instantly awake.
"Hush now, Little Bit, it's okay. You're with me," he reached out and stroked her bare shoulder. "I got you, honey."
"Brady?" His name trembled on her lips. "Brady is that you?"
"Yes, honey. It's me."
She looked around the darkened room. How did she get here? She remembered driving the buggy and the horse rearing up...but that was all.
She lay back. Brady moved beside her, his arm wrapped around her protectively. His body felt so good lying next to hers—the feel of his muscled arms and chest offering her security. She reached with a timid finger and stroked the soft silkiness of his chest hair. For the first time, she realized she was naked…and so was he.
A secret smile traveled over her lips as she trailed her finger lower still to stroke the soft hair below his navel. The sharp intake of his breath as her hand traveled lower, still, was all she needed to hear before she reached for his hardening manhood.
On an oath, he pulled her to him and covered her hand with his, trying to still it.
Lariats, Letters, and Lace Page 8