White Owl

by Veronica Blake

  She took a deep breath and wiped her hand across her sweating brow. He was lying on his side with his back to her. She reached out to touch him, but then pulled her hand back. Her heart ached for the pain her husband must feel, and even more because she knew there was no way she could help him.

  “I’m awake,” he whispered.

  Rose exhaled the breath she had been holding as he rolled over onto his back. She immediately snuggled up against him. His arm cradled her securely at his side.

  “I’m so sorry, White Owl. I never wanted to cause you and your fam—”

  “You did not cause this,” he cut in. “It has been brewing since we were little.”

  “But I—” Her words were cut off once again when he put his hand up to her mouth.

  “I will not allow you to blame yourself.” He sighed heavily. “Your brothers and father will feel the same.”

  The blood in Rose’s veins turned ice cold. Her father and Tate would be even worse than Two Feathers. “I must go see them alone.”

  White Owl was silent for a moment. He exhaled sharply. “I will ride with you, but you are right. You should talk to your family alone first and try to make them understand our love. If I am there, they will only be concerned with putting a bullet between my eyes.”

  Rose blinked several times to wipe that horrible image from her mind. As for making them understand? That was not going to happen. Still, she had to go back and see them one last time, especially her mother and Donavan. Then she could move on with her life and the peaceful future she envisioned with her handsome husband, in spite of the sense of impending doom that settled heavily in her heart at this moment.

  Chapter Twenty

  Although everything at White Owl’s village had changed, nothing at the Adair ranch looked any different. Rose glanced back over her shoulder at White Owl. He waited farther back on the ridge so that he was out of sight. He gave her an encouraging smile. Rose forced herself to smile back.

  He looked so regal sitting on his big black stallion. Wearing a complete buckskin suit he looked more handsome than usual. She had braided the front sections of his hair and the long braids hung over his chest. The remainder of his luscious locks that she loved to run her fingers through hung down his back. A beaded headband encircled his head. The only things that detracted from his beautiful image were the thick belts of ammunition he wore around his narrow waist and angled across his broad chest. A rifle hung from his saddle, reminding Rose of the grave danger they faced in this area now.

  She blew him a kiss. His smiled widened, and he nodded his head. When he waved back and turned to ride away, Rose had to wipe away a tear. It was good that he had been strong enough to ride away, because she knew she wouldn’t have been able to be the first one to leave. Even now, it took all of her restraint to keep from kicking Molly in the sides and galloping after him. But she had to be as strong as he was being and take care of unfinished business.

  Besides, he would be back to get her in the morning.

  Rose hunched up her shoulders as a frosty blast of wind whipped around her. The weather was turning colder, and dark clouds were gathering overhead. She would spend the night apart from White Owl for the first time since she had left here over two months ago. It was going to be a long, cold night.

  She drew a deep breath and turned back toward her family homestead. With a gentle nudge, she led Molly down the hill. Before she had even ridden all the way down the slope, Donavan spotted her. He had been getting water from the well, but he had dropped the full bucket on the ground when he saw her.

  “Ma! Pa! Rose is back,” he yelled as he ran toward her. “Rose! Rose!” he cried over and over as they drew nearer to one another.

  The tears flooding down her face were uncontrollable now, and when she was still several hundred yards away from him, Rose jumped down from Molly’s back and ran the rest of the way until her little brother was wrapped in her embrace. Although it had not been that long since she had seen him, it seemed as if he had grown several inches taller, or maybe it had been such a long time since they had actually hugged that she had forgotten how fast he was growing into a young man. He was now taller than she was, and she was certain he hadn’t been when she left two months earlier.

  When they finally pulled apart, Rose’s gaze was drawn to the small woman who was standing a couple of feet away.

  “Mama,” she gasped through her tears. She held her arms open and waited as her mother stepped forward hesitantly as if she was afraid of her. Taking the initiative, Rose stepped forward and threw her arms around her mother. “I’m sorry I left the way I did,” she cried as her mother tightened her hold around her.

  As her mother cried and they hugged, she looked over her mother’s head and glimpsed her father and Tate. They had stopped a good distance back. Each held a rifle and their expressions were identical, filled with hate and disgust.

  “Are you here to stay?” Colleen whispered in Rose’s ear.

  Rose choked back her tears as she realized the fearful tone in her mother’s voice. “No, Mother, I am not,” she replied. She pulled back from her mother and met the other woman’s sorrowful gaze. “I am only here to apologize for leaving the way I did. And to make sure that you are all safe after what happened at the agency. Then I will be returning to my husband.” She said the words as loudly as her shaking voice would allow. Beside her, Donavan moaned. Her mother’s face drained of all color.

  “So it’s true then,” her mother said. “What you wrote in your note?”

  Rose reached out and clasped her mother’s hand; it lay limply in her own. “Please try to understand. I love him more than my own life.”

  “Well, that’s good, ’cause your life is worthless if you are still with that Injun,” Tate spat as he walked closer. Her father had not moved.

  Rose dropped her mother’s hand and stepped away from all of them. “Please hear me out,” she pleaded loud enough for her father to hear. He took several steps closer. “Father, I am begging you to listen to me.” She took a couple shaky steps toward him.

  His face was red, and the fury in his blue eyes made them look as hard as ice; his lips were drawn together so tightly that they barely formed a thin white line above his chin. Inwardly, she cringed. “I will have my say and then I will leave, and you will not have to look at me again.”

  “Paddy, please?” Colleen cried out. “She’s our daughter.”

  “And a filthy squaw,” Tate growled between gritted teeth. He raised his rifle.

  Colleen screamed, and Donavan ran to place himself between his older brother and sister. Rose could not move in her dazed state. Did her own twin hate her enough to kill her? The events of the previous night flashed through her mind . . . White Owl and Two Feathers, wrestling on the ground and then the knife pressed against Two Feathers’ heart. She swallowed hard. How could two people falling in love cause so much animosity?

  “Tate!” Paddy yelled. He walked up to the group and faced his eldest son. “I know how you feel, but this ain’t gonna solve the problem.”

  Tate stared at his father for an instant and then slowly lowered the gun. His head dropped. Paddy reached out and easily took the rifle from his hand. Then, turning back to the rest of his family, he said flatly, “You came back for a reason, and we will hear you out.”

  “T-th—” Rose’s voice would not work. She felt her mother’s arm around her shoulder and Donavan’s hand clasp ahold of hers.

  “We’ll set at the table and talk like a rational family,” Colleen said.

  “I don’t want her in the house,” Tate announced.

  “Enough, boy.” Paddy glanced at Rose with narrowed eyes. “You say what you came to say.” He shook his head and added, “And you’re welcome in the house.” He cast a warning glance at Tate, whose face was now redder than his father’s.

  Rose was led forward by her mother and younger brother, but she felt like her legs were made of lead. Although she had known what to expect from Tate and her
father, actually hearing how much they hated her was worse than she had ever imagined.

  The delicious odor of freshly baked cornbread filled the air, and the interior of the sprawling ranch house was warm and comforting, especially compared to the dropping temperature outside. But Rose no longer felt welcome there. She pictured the cozy cave at Vermillion Basin and fought back tears. She sat down at the table and stared blankly at her father as he sat across from her. They were the only two to sit down.

  Her mother rushed to pour her a cup of coffee and placed the mug and a large chunk of corn-bread in front of her. Rose didn’t even look at the food or drink because she knew nothing would be able to pass over the strangling lump in her throat.

  “Speak,” her father ordered after a couple of minutes of uneasy silence.

  Rose jumped at the sound of his impatient command. “S-so you found my note?”

  “That you were running off with some Ute buck and not to try to find you.” He slammed his fist down on the tabletop. “Do you have any idea what that did to your ma?”

  Rose flinched but tried to stay calm. She glanced at her mother. “I know, and I am sorry. I just knew that you—none of you—would understand if I tried to tell you how I feel about White Owl.”

  A hateful chortle came from Tate. “White Owl,” he repeated like he had tasted something repulsive. He opened his mouth to say more, but Paddy’s look of warning silenced him.

  “I-I—” Paddy’s face reddened again, and he had to take a moment before he could speak again. “I guess that was what you were doin’ on all those long rides—meetin’ up with that—that—” His mouth clamped shut as if he couldn’t even say the words out loud.

  Rose stared down at the full mug of coffee sitting before her. “Yes,” she mumbled. Her lies had come back to haunt her. She should have just told them right from the start about meeting White Owl, but her fear had prevented it, and now she was realizing how much worse she had made the entire situation. She heard a disgusted grunt from Tate’s direction.

  “You’ve been with him all this time?” Tate’s hate-filled voice rang out in more of an accusation than a question.

  Rose slowly nodded and looked back up at her father. “He’s my husband and I love him with—”

  Her words were cut off sharply when her father’s anger overwhelmed him. The heavy wooden table went rolling over when he grabbed the edge and sent it flying onto its side. Rose felt the burn of the hot coffee when the overturned mug fell in her lap. She cried out and jumped up, knocking the chair over and then tripping over the chair and crashing backward on the hard wood planks of the floor.

  Her mother was kneeling beside her. “Rosaline, are you all right?” Her hand was on Rose’s forehead as if she was trying to take her temperature.

  Rose stared up at her mother as her image danced like waves before her eyes. As her vision began to clear, she was aware of pain in her back where she landed on the floor and the burn of the coffee on her thigh, but neither injury induced as much pain as her father’s rage. She blinked and slowly nodded her head. “I’m fine,” she said quietly. Her mother helped her sit up, but it took a second for her head to stop spinning so that she could stand up on her quivering legs.

  “Paddy!” Colleen screamed. “Why?”

  Paddy Adair was standing on the other side of the overturned table. “Get your clothes changed, Rosaline. I’m takin’ you to Denver now!”

  His words spun through Rose’s foggy mind. “No—you can’t make me go,” she retorted in as forceful a voice as she could speak. “I won’t . . . I’m a married woman!”

  “You’re my daughter, and that . . . that so-called marriage ain’t legal.” He looked at his wife. “Go with her and get her a bag of clothes. Don’t think I won’t hunt her down this time if you let her leave.” His tone was so filled with venom that Rose felt her mother shiver.

  Rose stumbled blindly into her old room as her mother pulled her along with her. Once they were on the other side of the heavy curtain that separated the room from the rest of the house, her shock finally began to fade into disbelief and then refusal. “He can’t make me go,” she stated as her mother began rushing around the room grabbing clothes and stuffing them into a cotton satchel.

  “Please, Rose, don’t argue with him. I’ve never seen him so angry.” Her mother’s panic was apparent. “I am afraid for you, so please don’t fight with him anymore.”

  Rose started to walk over to her mother and realized that her leg and back were filled with shooting pains from her hard fall. She limped over to where Colleen was shoving toiletries into the bag with visibly shaking hands. She reached out and grabbed her mother’s arm. “I am married, Mother, to a man I love so much that I would rather die than live without him.”

  Colleen ceased all movements and looked over at her daughter. Their blue gazes locked. Rose could see the sorrow in her mother’s eyes, as well as her own reflection shimmering back at her. Her mother was her only hope now.

  “You have to go to Denver,” Colleen said in a hoarse whisper.

  Rose’s arms dropped against her sides with a thud as her mother’s unexpected demand echoed through her mind. No! No! No! she wanted to scream, but she knew it would not matter. She could see the terror in her mother’s eyes and realized for the first time just how frightened her mother was of her father.

  Rose closed her eyes and turned away as the hot tears once again rolled from her eyes. Without turning to face her mother again, she said quietly, “He will be coming here to get me in the morning. Can you at least tell him where I am? Please, can you do that one last thing for me, Mother?”

  A sharp pain sliced through Rose’s breast as she waited for her mother’s reply. “Rosaline, once you reach Denver you will realize what a mistake these past few months have been, and you will be able to move on with your life. No one will ever have to know.”

  Rose threw her hand over her heart. This time it truly felt like it had just been torn out of her chest, and there was nothing more than a hollow hole left. He would come here tomorrow and she would be gone. No one was going to tell him where she was, and that was more than she could bear.

  As the room suddenly began to spin before her eyes, and then went completely black, Rose felt herself slipping down to the floor once again. The darkness was welcoming—safe. In her dreams she was in White Owl’s arms again.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The blizzard lasted for three days. It had started late in the afternoon on the day that White Owl had left Wild Rose at her family’s ranch. He had tried to head back to the ranch that same evening, but his father had told him to wait to see if the weather cleared by morning. She wasn’t expecting him until then, anyway.

  The next day was a complete whiteout, and traveling was impossible with the blinding snow falling sideways in the freezing wind that howled across the land. The villagers began to pack up their belongings so that at the first break in the weather, they could begin to move farther south. The long hot autumn and drought of the past summer had rapidly turned into a vicious winter, and already some of the tribe had headed to warmer grounds. Strong Elk’s second wife, Cloud Woman, and his young daughter, Shy Girl, had left a few days earlier with the first group to begin setting up the winter camp.

  White Owl was crazy without his woman for this long. One night apart had seemed like an eternity, but three nights was pure torture. His only consolation was that she was safe with her family, and once he went to get her, they would never be apart again. It was a good thing, he tried to convince himself, that she was staying with them this long. He had no doubt that they had been furious at first, but perhaps the longer they had been forced to be under the same roof during the storm, they had been able to overcome some of the anger.

  He wanted his Wild Rose to be content when they continued on their life’s journey, and he knew that she was deeply troubled by the way she had left her parents’ home before. White Owl had convinced himself this storm had probably been benefic
ial, even if it meant he had to spend three endless nights alone under the fur robes of the tepee he had erected in anticipation of her return.

  He glanced around the tepee as he put his heavy bear-fur coat on over his buckskin suit. He would be making love to his Wild Rose in here tonight. But by tomorrow, if the weather stayed decent, they would probably be taking the tepee down again so that they could begin the winter trek south. The thought of the long cold winter ahead did not seem so harsh now that he had his beautiful flame-haired wife to keep him warm.

  The trip across Milk Creek and to the Adair property took longer than White Owl planned because of the heavy wet snow and the cold, relentless wind that still blew against him and Niwaa. With the slow progress they were making, it was late afternoon by the time he reached the ridge above the ranch. He was more than a little anxious to get his wife back, which was why he was not using his usual caution as he started down the slope. When the shot rang out and whizzed just inches away from his arm, it took him a second to even realize what was happening. Niwaa, however, was aware of the danger immediately, and while his master had hesitated to react, the horse twirled around and began charging back up the hill.

  When White Owl’s shock began to fade, he pushed Niwaa to the top faster as another bullet dug into the snow just a few feet beside them. At the top of the ridge, he jumped from Niwaa’s back and pulled the rifle from his saddle as he dove face-first down on the ground. Since he had not been paying attention, he was not even sure where the shots were being fired from or whether or not there was only one shooter. He scooted on his stomach through the snow along the ledge until he found a protruding rock to hide behind. He slowly raised his head above the rock and surveyed the ranch. There was nothing to give him a clue as to where the attack was coming from.