“Only Joseph or I can sever the bond between us. You don’t have a say in the matter.”
Feather’s head snapped up to glare at her, the loathing back in her eyes. “He chose me as his first wife.”
“And you let him go.” Sophia dared a quick glance toward the village. Would Evelyn notice that she had left her lodge? Could anyone even see her this far away? With all the trees around, she and Feather most likely blended in among the trunks and branches.
“It was my brother’s doing,” Feather spat angrily.
Sophia studied her. There was only anger in the woman’s eyes. She detected no remorse or longing for something she had lost or given up reluctantly. Feather couldn’t truly love Joseph and regret that she’d left him. Did she really believe that she didn’t have a choice but to let Joseph go? It sounded like a noble thing to do, but surely if she loved him, she wouldn’t have let him go so easily.
“There is always a way if you love someone,” Sophia offered.
“A man will always favor his first wife. You are nothing but a second wife, a servant to the woman who comes before you. A first wife, a true wife, is always valued over any other.”
Sophia almost felt sorry for her. Feather in the Wind appeared desperate. She didn’t understand all the social customs the woman spoke of, but apparently it was quite common for a man to have more than one wife.
“Did you love him? Do you love him now?” Sophia challenged. Perhaps if she kept talking long enough, Evelyn or Lucas would notice that she wasn’t in her lodge.
Feather looked at a loss for words for a moment. Her forehead wrinkled, and her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes narrowed.
“I require a husband,” she said dryly. “Nu umi Kin numpu is a man held in high regard by the Bannock. I am his first wife.” She paused, a malicious smile forming on her face. “He has always enjoyed my sleeping palette. He will do so again.”
The woman wasn’t truly in love with Joseph. She simply saw him as a prize, an acquisition. Feather’s words stung, and for a brief moment Sophia wondered if Joseph had shared the same passion with this woman as he had done with her. She swallowed back her sudden insecurity, and held her ground. Joseph had said they’d both been young and foolish. If Feather thought Sophia would simply hand over the man she loved, she was sorely mistaken.
“You may have been his first wife, but I’m the one he chose for his wife now.” She took a bold step closer to Feather, and stared her in the eye. She may as well throw her words back at her. “It is my sleeping palette he prefers now,” she added. Joseph loved her, and only her. She was willing to stake her life on it.
“If you hadn’t come, he would have taken me back,” Feather screeched. In one swift move, she pulled her knife and lunged at Sophia. Sophia stumbled backward. The heel of her foot caught on a protruding tree root, and she swayed to keep her balance. A sharp pain sliced through her skin where Feather’s knife found its mark, and warm liquid ran down her arm. Without thinking, Sophia pulled her own knife, and held it out in front of her. Her hands trembled, and she backed up. Could she really use the knife to hurt someone, even this woman?
Feather in the Wind leered coldly at her, a deadly gleam in her eyes.
“You are weak. You are afraid. You do not deserve him.”
Feather lunged forward. Sophia stepped to the side to avoid her thrust with the knife. Her foot hit a rock and she stumbled. Before falling completely to the ground, the sound of a gunshot reverberated through the air. Feather in the Wind cried out, and the Blackfoot woman’s body landed heavily on top of her. Sophia’s head collided against a hard object, and a dull pain ripped through her skull. She blinked to remain conscious. Blackness threatened to envelop her.
From somewhere in the distance – or was it close by? – a horse’s hoofs pounded the earth. Sophia struggled for breath. She tried to push Feather’s body off of her. Why wasn’t the woman moving? Her head throbbed as if it had split in two, and dark shadows drifted in and out of her view.
Suddenly, the weight was lifted off of her. Sophia inhaled deeply. She blinked and squinted, trying to see. A dark form hovered over her.
“Lucas?” she mumbled. Her voice sounded far away.
Someone grabbed her arm, and hauled her up off the ground. Sophia cried out in pain. As hard as she tried, her limbs wouldn’t move.
Saddle leather creaked, and the man pushed her up and over a sandy-colored horse’s neck. Her heart responded with a jolt. A dun horse! The knife. Where was her knife? She fisted her empty hand. She must have dropped it during her fall.
Sophia struggled in his grasp, her arms and legs heavier than lead anchors. No sounds came from her mouth when she tried to scream. She fought to focus her vision, but the pain in her head was blinding. A steely arm wrapped around her waist, and pulled her against a hard chest. The rider kicked his horse into a gallop, and she cried out. Her head was ready to split open.
Off in the distance, several gunshots echoed, or had she imagined it?
“Joseph,” she mouthed silently, and her head slumped to the side as her world went dark.
****
Joseph guided his mount along the banks of the wide creek. Just around the bend, the tips of teepees came into view. What a welcome sight. He’d been gone for four long days. Too long not to see and hold his wife.
His search for Oliver Sabin had come up empty. After he and his father found the Crow warriors’ camp and asked them about the man they had seen, they decided to split up. Based on the warrior’s description, it could very well have been Oliver Sabin. A man about his father’s age, with dark hair and wearing an eye patch over his left eye.
His father had ridden south to scout out the trails along the Snake River, while Joseph had followed a more easterly course through the marshlands. They had agreed to meet back at the Bannock Village within a week if neither had found anything. From there, they would resume their search and head north toward the great Jackson Lake, and into the higher mountains.
If Sabin was in the area, where would he hide out? The high country was an obvious choice if someone didn’t want to be found, but Sabin’s presence here after all this time could only mean one thing; he was after Sophie.
Damn! Yancey had been right. The greenhorn had feared that Sabin would try and get to Sophie, and Joseph had dismissed the idea as ridiculous. He still couldn’t figure out how the man would have even found out about her presence here in the first place.
The obvious answer was the man on the dun horse. Joseph gritted his teeth and cursed his own stupidity for the thousandth time. He should have dealt with the man when he had the chance in St. Louis. He wouldn’t rest again until he found him, and Sabin, and made sure they would never get the chance to harm Sophie again.
Sophie. The thought of her sent ripples of warmth flowing through him. Her smiling face, the love that shone in her eyes for him, her touch. He urged his horse into a lope, eager to reach the village and his wife’s arms. Soon, they could begin their lives together, after the danger was dealt with once and for all.
He’d build her a cabin anywhere she chose. Perhaps she’d want to remain in the valley that his parents called home, or maybe he’d show her some of the lakes along the base of the mountains. The old cabin his father had built over twenty-five years ago for his mother still stood along the shores of a pristine mountain lake. He hadn’t visited the area in years. Maybe next spring, he would take Sophie there. Maybe he’d even take her to climb the peaks of the Teewinots like she’d said she wanted to do.
Joseph slowed his mount as he rode past the herd of horses grazing the periphery of the village. His eyes fell on the lodge he and Sophie spend their wedding night in, then his gaze roamed the village, trying to spot her. What had she done during the last four days to occupy her time?
Several children ran toward him, but their usual exuberant greeting was absent. Caleb was among the group.
“Joseph, Joseph,” the boy called and ran past all the other children
. It wasn’t a greeting of joy. An inexplicable shiver of dread washed over him. Something didn’t seem right. Men and women began to gather in groups, watching him approach. Where was Sophie?
Joseph reined his horse to a stop and dismounted. Caleb flew at him and wrapped his arms around his thigh.
“What’s wrong, Caleb?” Joseph kneeled to be at the boy’s eyelevel. Tears streaked down the child’s face.
“It’s Miss Sophie, Joseph,” Caleb sobbed. “She’s gone missing. A man took her.”
A jolt so fierce, he thought it might pierce his heart, shot through Joseph. He sprang to his feet. His mother came running from the direction of Two Bears’ lodge. Joseph rushed up to meet her. He held her upper arms, the look of anguish on her face confirming what Caleb had said.
“Oh, dear God, Joseph,” his mother sobbed. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“What happened?” he asked, swallowing the bile that rose to his throat. “Where’s Sophie?”
“He took her,” his mother wailed. “I . . . I’m not even sure what happened. One minute, she was in her lodge, the next, we heard a gunshot.”
Joseph’s chest tightened as if a bullet had hit him.
“Feather in the Wind is dead. Several of the warriors gave chase, but it was getting dark, and they lost the tracks. Lucas still hasn’t returned.”
Joseph blinked and shook his head. He tried to make sense of his mother’s words. What did Feather have to do with this?
“When?” It was the only word he managed to produce. He swallowed several times, trying to work the lump out of his throat.
“Yesterday afternoon. We found this.” His mother held a familiar leather pouch out to him. The braid of hair that was his and Sophie’s had been cut and ripped apart.
Joseph could only guess at what had happened. Somehow Feather had found the bundle. She must have been lurking in the area rather than heed his advice.
“We think Sophie met her along the tree line, and they must have argued. Sophie’s knife was on the ground. Feather’s, too.”
“Where was Lucas?” Joseph asked between clenched teeth. He’d made one specific request of his brother.
“Don’t be angry at your brother, Joseph. Sophie was with me all afternoon yesterday. She said she wanted to freshen up in her lodge before helping me with supper. That’s the last we saw her.”
Joseph gathered his reins and mounted his horse.
“Be careful, Joseph.” She reached up and grabbed his knee. “Lucas thought there were two men. He said judging by the hoof prints, the man who took Sophie was not the one who shot Feather. The shot was fired from a different direction.”
Joseph weighed his mother’s words. He knew exactly who had taken Sophie. Now that Sabin and the other man were together, it would make tracking them easier. And he had prints to follow. He refused to even think of what he would find when he caught up with the men.
He nodded curtly to his mother, then spun his horse around, and kicked the gelding into a gallop. Anger mixed with fear such as he’d never experienced before coursed through his veins. If any harm had come to Sophie . . . Joseph cursed. She was here because of him, and he’d endangered her life, or worse.
Chapter Twenty-four
The impending darkness made it nearly impossible for Joseph to follow the trail of hoof prints that led away from the Bannock village. He’d covered a lot of ground already, but Sophie’s abductor had been in quite a hurry, and had a day’s head start on him. Joseph scanned the ground for another set of tracks to join the first, but the only other visible prints were presumably from Lucas’ horse.
It gave Joseph a small sense of assurance that his brother was in pursuit of the abductor. Lucas would have been only minutes behind. Perhaps his brother had already caught up to them and Sophie was safe. Lucas was fiercely competitive to a fault, and if nothing else, he’d see this pursuit as a personal challenge.
When the night fully enveloped him, Joseph had no choice but to dismount his horse and continue on foot. He didn’t want to risk losing the trail, and the cloud cover in the sky obscured the moon enough to dim its light. He hadn’t covered many miles over several hours, and he cursed the blackness.
A twig snapped somewhere up ahead, and Joseph froze. He cocked the trigger on his rifle that he carried in his arm. A horse snorted, and Joseph’s gelding tensed, then whinnied a soft greeting.
“Joseph?” Lucas’ voice drifted from out of the darkness. A shadowy figure leading a horse materialized.
“Lucas, where’s Sophie?” Joseph’s heart pounded in his chest. He approached his brother, who appeared to be limping.
“That bastard’s taking her up into the high country,” Lucas grumbled. “My horse took a fall and threw me. Afraid we’ve both gone lame. I was trying to get back to the village to get a fresh mount and head out again.”
“Did you see anyone else? Who took her?” Joseph didn’t disguise the frustration in his voice.
“I only caught a quick glimpse of him, Joseph. Looked like a dun horse. Didn’t see anyone else with him. When I got within shooting range just before sundown, my horse took a misstep.”
Joseph paced in front of his horse. He’d clung to the hope that Lucas would be close enough to Sabin and the other man to keep Sophie safe. Now he was still a day behind.
“Get goin’, Joseph. I’m sorry I let you down. I can’t move any faster right now.”
Joseph stared at Lucas through the darkness. Even in the dim light, the grimace on his brother’s face was obvious. He still had a fresh bullet hole in his shoulder, and now an injured leg. There would be no stopping Lucas from boasting about his war scars.
“Go back to the village, Lucas. Thanks for all you’ve done.”
“I’ll be right behind you, Joseph. Go after them and give that bastard hell from me.” Lucas slapped him on the back.
Joseph nodded, and mounted his horse. Taking advantage of the shifting clouds that uncovered the moon, he guided his gelding through tall sedge, heading west to the base of the mountains. He crossed a shallow stream, the faint moon’s light reflecting off the water in an eerie glow, and the terrain became rockier. Conifers loomed in greater numbers all around him, slowing him down. By the time the first rays of dawn rose in the eastern horizon, he’d covered several more miles when he led his horse along a narrow deer trail up the mountain.
Joseph stopped at a trickle of water that sprung from between an outcropping of rocks, and held his hand under the water, splashing it on his weary face. He blinked his eyes to try and clear his head. He hadn’t slept much in almost a week. Images of Sophie popped in and out of his mind; visions of her in a satiny blue ball gown that accentuated her bare neck and shoulders. It’s what she’d worn the first time he laid eyes on her in her father’s study in Boston.
Joseph sipped once more from the cool spring. She would have been safer in Boston. Her life wouldn’t be in danger from a killer at this very second. But Boston would have choked the life out of her in time. She belonged here among the splendor of the mountains, just as she belonged with him. And she would be back in his arms, he told himself firmly.
Reaching for his horse’s reins, Joseph froze. Small bits of gravel rolled toward him from the trail up ahead. Slowly, he cocked his rifle, and stepped away from the spring. His horse tensed, and the gelding’s ears moved nervously back and forth. Joseph focused on his surroundings, slowly scanning the trees beyond and to the sides. Birds that chirped loudly in the trees moments ago now quieted. The gentle breeze that swayed through the branches of the conifers became ominously loud.
Every nerve ending in his body told him he was being watched. And he would lay bets that whoever was watching him knew that he was aware of his presence. The man apparently wanted to be found.
“Show yourself,” Joseph called. His voice echoed off the mountain.
“Lay down your gun first,” came the immediate reply.
Joseph scoffed. “Like hell I will,” he yelled. “Who are you?�
� He strained his ears to listen, moving his eyes almost imperceptibly from side to side.
“I have Sophia.”
Joseph clenched his jaw. “If you’ve harmed her in any way, I’ll kill you. Let her go.”
The man laughed. “She’s in a safe place for now.”
More gravel rolled down the path to his right, and he caught a glimpse of some blue fabric. In one swift move, Joseph darted around a tree trunk, aimed his rifle and fired. A soft groan came from behind the trees where he fired his weapon.
With a small sense of satisfaction that he had hit his target, Joseph dropped to the ground. Slowly, with the practiced stealth taught to him by his father, he inched along the ground, thankful for the thick foliage that obscured the other man’s view. He circled a wide berth around to where he suspected the man sat waiting. Joseph slowly pulled his knife from its sheath. Around another tree, his target sat with his back to him. Joseph sprang to his feet and rushed up behind the man, wrapping his arm around his neck, and pressed the tip of his knife into his opponent’s throat.
“Where’s my wife?” he growled into the man’s ear. His hand itched to drive the knife into his adversary’s throat, but first he needed to find out where Sophie was. That she wasn’t here with this man was obvious. What had that bastard done with her? Joseph’s choke hold increased. What if he’d already killed her?
The man struggled and gurgled for air, and kicked out with his legs. His hands wrapped around Joseph’s arm and gripped tight in an effort to free himself, but Joseph refused to let go. Rage and frustration, mixed with fear of what might have happened to Sophie, consumed him.
“I should just kill you now,” he rasped between clenched teeth, straining to maintain his chokehold. The man’s grip weakened. Joseph eased up on his victim, and the man sagged to the ground, gasping and coughing for air. Joseph kicked the man’s rifle that lay on the ground out of reach.
Teton Romance Trilogy Bundle: Includes Yellowstone Proposal (Short Story) Page 43