by Bobbi Smith
"Barnie . . . I want my mother . . ." Cari began to cry.
The big, furry dog lay down with the child, curling around her protectively to shield her from the gusting wind. Cari sought the solace of her pet's nearness and slid her feet beneath Barnie's warm body. She clung to the dog's warmth as she began to pray for someone to find them. In the distance the sound of a wolf's howl rent the night, frightening Cari even more, and she buried her face against the dog's neck.
The minutes seemed like hours. Cari kept calling out to her mother and father for help, but eventually she grew sleepy . . . very sleepy. It seemed strange to her that after a while she didn't feel the cold anymore, but somehow it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she fall asleep . . .
When Barnie suddenly lifted her massive head and gave a low growl, Cari knew the dog might be warning her that the wolf she'd heard earlier was approaching. Even so, she couldn't summon the strength to move or even look up. She only wanted to close her eyes and drift off. She sighed, too weary to care.
Barnie's growl turned to a menacing snarl as Cari heard someone speak.
"Be quiet."
The deep, male voice was firm and commanding, and as if recognizing a friend, the dog immediately fell silent.
Cari finally stirred. She opened her eyes and stared up at the man who'd spoken to Barnie with such authority. She blinked in confusion, not sure if she was really seeing the young, handsome, buckskin-clad Cheyenne brave standing over her.
"Help me . . ." Cari managed a whisper. The Cheyenne were her family's friends, and she knew no fear of them.
Fourteen-year-old Silver Wolf and his friend, Strong Eagle, had been riding for their village when Silver Wolf heard her cry for help. At first, he'd thought it was the wind playing tricks on him, for Strong Eagle had not heard it, but when they'd paused, both had heard the call. They'd immediately ridden in the direction of the cry and had found the child's tracks in the snow on the creekbank. They'd followed the trail to where the near-frozen girl lay with the dog.
When the animal had risen to its feet and snarled at him, Silver Wolf had been glad for the first time in his life that he'd learned English. And when the dog had responded to his command to be quiet, he'd been pleased . . . and relieved.
Knowing the dog would not interfere, Silver Wolf bent to take the fair-haired child in his arms.
"I will not hurt you, little one," he promised in a comforting tone.
"I know," she sighed.
Her calm acceptance of him surprised Silver Wolf, for most whites hated and feared his people. This child, however, offered no protest as he picked her up. She was as light and fragile as a bird, and it was then, as he held her, that he realized she was wet as well as barefoot. He knew he had to get her to warmth and safety quickly. Handing her up to Strong Eagle, Silver Wolf mounted his own horse and then took her back.
"It is foolish to brave the winter snows alone," he told her as he cradled her against his chest to share in his body heat. He wrapped his buffalo robe around her, making sure her icy feet were covered. "On nights like this, even the animals of the forest know to stay in their lairs."
"But you're here . . ." Cari murmured sleepily, feeling protected in his arms.
Silver Wolf ignored her point as he asked, "You are McCord's?"
Cari managed to lift her head to look up at him. As she studied him in the darkness, she thought God must have answered her prayers and sent him to save her. "Yes, but who are you?"
"I am Silver Wolf. I will take you home."
At his friend's words, Strong Eagle spoke. "It's a good thing that your grandfather is a friend of James McCord. It would be dangerous to ride up to any other white man's house in the middle of the night."
"McCord will know us. There will be no trouble," he told his friend. Then to the child, he said, "Put your arms around me and hold on, little one. You will be warm soon."
Cari wrapped her arms around him and gave herself into his keeping.
As she snuggled against him, Silver Wolf felt a surge of tenderness for her. He fought it down as he kept one arm securely around her and put his heels to Wild One's flanks. They raced for the McCord home with the big dog running along with them, barking. When they reined in before the white man's house, Silver Wolf called out to the man who was his grandfather's friend.
Barnie's barking had awakened James McCord. He'd just been getting out of bed to investigate when he heard someone call his name. Fearing trouble, he tugged on his pants and then snatched up his rifle and ran for the door. His wife, Elizabeth, quickly followed him, wrapping her dressing gown around her as she went. They reached the front of the house at almost the same time, neither of them noticing that their daughter was not in her room.
"James! They're Indians!" Eastern-born-and-bred Elizabeth clutched her husband's arm in an effort to hold him back when he would have immediately opened the door and gone out. She'd never become accustomed to the people of the plains, and the sight of two Cheyenne braves on horseback before her home in the middle of the night frightened her. "What if they're here to cause trouble?"
"If they'd meant us any harm, Elizabeth, we'd already be dead," he told her. "Besides, they're from Tall Shadow's tribe. The one boy is his grandson, Silver Wolf; the other is Strong Eagle. They're our friends." He shrugged off her clinging hold, threw the door wide, and went out on the porch to greet his night visitors.
Elizabeth wondered how he could call them boys when they looked so fierce . . . so savage. Their hair was long, worn loose past their shoulders with feathers tied in the lengths. Their buckskin clothing and fur robes made them look to her as if they were only one step above the animals whose skins they wore. She was trembling as she followed James outside.
"Silver Wolf, Strong Eagle, it's good as always to see you, but why have you come to my home so late?" James asked.
"We have come to bring you what is yours." Silver Wolf swung down from his horse, making sure to keep the robe tucked around Cari.
McCord frowned, puzzled by his words. "I don't understand."
"James!" Elizabeth had come to stand behind him, and her whisper was nearly frantic as the young brave came toward them. To her, he was a fearsome-looking wild man, and she had no idea what he was carrying wrapped in the filthy animal robe.
"Be quiet, Elizabeth," James ground out under his breath, afraid of what she might blurt out next.
Silver Wolf climbed the porch steps and stopped before them. Until that moment he'd kept his robe tight around Cari to warm her, but as he moved forward, he let it fall open so they could see it was their child he carried.
"Cari!!" Elizabeth was stunned. "What are you doing with my baby?" Cari was supposed to be in her bed sleeping! How had this creature . . . this half-breed Indian gotten her child? She snatched Cari from his arms.
"Cari? What . . .? How . . .?" James gave Silver Wolf a confused look.
"Silver Wolf saved me, Mother," Cari said in a small, quavering voice, sorry the warrior was no longer holding her. Even though she'd been wet, cold, and miserable, she'd liked riding with him. Now, however, she was going to have to face her mother's fury.
Elizabeth cast outraged looks at all of them as she held her daughter to her breast. Then, without a word, she turned and disappeared inside.
"You saved Cari?" James asked. "Where was she?"
"We heard her calling for help as we rode for our camp. We found her by the creek with the dog." He gestured toward Barnie. "The dog is a good dog, but the child should be tethered."
James cast a glance over his shoulder and watched his wife strip the buffalo robe and wet clothes off Cari, then wrap her in a warm, dry blanket. His daughter was shivering, but otherwise appeared unhurt. He turned back to Silver Wolf and smiled, offering his hand in the white man's gesture of friendship.
"I thank you for the gift of my daughter's life, Silver Wolf. You're right. The dog is a good dog. She obeys. My only daughter, however, is young and already has the will of a buffalo. It
was my good fortune that you found her and saved her from her foolishness."
Their gazes met, and Silver Wolf, seeing the honesty of his words reflected in his eyes, nodded as he took his hand in a firm grip. "It is good that she will live."
"Will you stay with us and have something to eat?" James invited.
"No. We must return to our village."
"I'm sorry you cannot stay, but thank you, Silver Wolf. You, too, Strong Eagle. You are always welcome in my home."
Silver Wolf glanced past James to where the child sat with her mother before the fire. Her back was to him and her waist-length, white-gold hair was tumbling freely about her shoulders. It struck him that her hair was the color of shimmering moonlight. The revelation disturbed him for some reason, and he turned quickly and walked away. He'd just started to mount his horse when he heard her call to him.
Though Cari was still freezing, she wanted to talk to her warrior one more time.
The young brave looked back to find that the little girl had come out to stand at her father's side.
"Thank you . . ." she said as she hugged the blanket around her.
He did not speak, but swung up on his steed in one fluid motion and wheeled his horse around. He raised a hand in silent acknowledgment and then rode off into the snowy night with Strong Eagle.
Cari remained in the doorway with her father, both watching the two men until they'd ridden out of sight.
"Silver Wolf saved me, Papa."
"I know. He's a good man, just like his grandfather Tall Shadow."
"I like him."
James put an arm around his daughter's shoulders as he offered a silent prayer of thanks to the brave who'd brought his child home. They were starting to go back inside when the sound of a whine stopped them. They looked down to see Barnie sitting at the foot of the porch steps, a hopeful look on her face. The warm glow of the fireplace beckoned, and though James didn't usually allow the dog in the house, tonight he would make an exception.
"Come on, Barnie. You've earned a bed by the fire."
With a bark of happiness, the big dog jumped up and ran indoors. She immediately curled up before the hearth. Warm and toasty at last and secure that Cari was safe, she quickly fell asleep.
Keeping her blanket wrapped around her, Cari sat down next to the dog. "If it hadn't been for Barnie and Silver Wolf, I'd be frozen right now!"
"And just what were you doing outside in the middle of the night, young lady?" Elizabeth asked as she came from the kitchen carrying a steaming cup of tea.
"I wanted to play in the snow," Cari answered honestly as she took the hot brew from her mother and sipped from the cup. She made a terrible face.
"Drink it all," her mother ordered, knowing the whiskey she'd put in it would help to warm her.
Though Cari grimaced at the nasty taste, she obeyed without comment.
"I'm sorry, Mother." She gave her mother a pleading look.
Elizabeth stared down into her daughter's beautiful face and innocent blue eyes and knew that she loved her more than life itself. She took the empty cup from Cari and set it aside before taking her in her arms and hugging her tight.
Cari was relieved by her mother's reactions and allowed herself to enjoy the embrace.
"Oh, darling, if anything had happened to you . . . if that terrible half-breed had hurt you . . ."
"Elizabeth . . ." James said her name sternly, angered by her words.
Cari glanced over at her father as her mother released her. "What's a half-breed?" She had never heard the term before.
"A half-breed is a man who's half white and half Indian," James quickly explained. "In Silver Wolf's case, his father was white, but his mother is Cheyenne."
Cari was intrigued. "Isn't it good to be a little of each? Silver Wolf can be anything he wants to be. He could be a rancher or he could be a warrior . . ."
"Cari . . ." Elizabeth began again, ready to launch into a condemnation of any and all Indians.
"Silver Wolf kept me safe, Mother. He brought me home. He wouldn't hurt me. He's nice."
There would be no convincing Elizabeth that Indians were nice. "Yes, I'm sure you're right, but that's enough talk about Indians for now, Cari. Let's get you tucked into bed where you'll really be safe. You can sleep with your father and me for the rest of the night."
Cari loved her parents' big, soft feather bed. Her mother helped her put on a heavy flannel nightgown, and soon she was bundled up under the covers between them. She quickly fell asleep, the liquor in the tea having warmed her to drowsy contentment.
James slept, too. Only Elizabeth remained awake, staring into the darkness. She loved her husband and daughter. They meant everything to her. She and Cari had come here two years ago to join James in this godforsaken wilderness from their life back East because it was what he'd wanted, and she'd wanted to please him. Yet, as much as she adored her husband, this land he loved so dearly terrified her.
Elizabeth couldn't help but imagine what would have happened had that horrible Indian not brought Cari back. A part of her told her she should be thankful to him for saving her child, but she refused to give him credit. Her daughter had almost died! If they'd been living in the city this would never have happened. This was a barbaric land, rugged and untamed, and she was beginning to hate it with a passion.
Tears of bitterness and confusion slid down her cheeks. She wondered if James would ever give up his crazy dream of carving an empire out of the wilderness and return to the comfortable life they'd known before. She wondered, too, if she had the strength to stay by his side if he didn't. Her tears lasted until the first light of dawn.
Cari slept late. When she awoke she discovered that the storm had passed and the sun was high in the sky, reflecting brilliantly off the new-fallen snow. She was surprised that she'd slept so long, and she padded barefoot from the bedroom, rubbing her eyes in a sleepy morning ritual. As she entered the main room, she saw her mother holding Silver Wolf's buffalo robe.
"I don't care what you do with it," Elizabeth was saying to James, handling the robe as if it were too vile even to touch. "You can burn it for all I care. I just want it out of my house."
"Mother, wait!" Cari ran to them. "I'll keep it in my room until we see Silver Wolf again. It's his, and I have to give it back to him."
"She's right, Elizabeth. The Cheyenne set great store by their robes."
It annoyed Elizabeth to keep the thing in the house, but she handed it over to Cari without further comment. Her daughter took it and held it as if it were a most cherished object.
For the next three days, the temperatures remained freezing. Cari played in the snow every chance she could, but even as she did, the Cheyenne brave was in her thoughts. At night, Cari curled up in her bed with his buffalo robe. She spent hours studying the beautiful designs painted on it, trying to figure out what they meant. When she fell asleep each night, she dreamed of Silver Wolf, and she knew she would one day see him again.
A week passed before the temperatures finally moderated and the snow melted. Cari followed her father to the stable one afternoon to talk to him in private, away from her mother.
"Papa, I want to go see Silver Wolf now that the weather's better," Cari told him as she helped feed the horses. "I have to give him back his robe."
"I'll make sure he gets it the next time I visit Tall Shadow," James offered. He'd known one day she would ask, and he wanted to discourage her interest, for he knew it would anger Elizabeth.
"No. I have to see him myself. I want to thank him," she persisted, her mind and heart made up.
James smiled ruefully at the familiar look of determination on Cari's face. He knew full well where she'd gotten her hardheadedness, for he and Elizabeth were both as stubborn as the day was long. "All right, sweetheart. We'll go tomorrow."
Actually, James was glad she wanted to go. He'd long feared she'd be affected by her mother's hatred of all things Indian, and it pleased him to discover that she hadn't been. If they were
going to build a successful life there in the territory, it was important that she learn all she could about the Cheyenne. This ranch, after all, would be hers one day.
The next morning, Cari sat before her father on his horse as they rode for the Cheyenne village. She'd feared that her mother would convince her father not to make the trip, but he'd ignored her angry protests. He'd promised her mother that they would return by nightfall, and then they'd ridden off without another word.
The sun was bright and warm, the day unusually mild. Cari rode easily with her father, holding Silver Wolf's buffalo robe in her arms as if it were her most precious possession. She could hardly wait to see Silver Wolf again, and her eagerness showed as she bombarded her father with endless questions about the tribe.
"How did you and Chief Tall Shadow get to be friends, Papa?"
"We met when I first came to the territory. We did some trading. Then one day, I spotted a band of Pawnee heading onto Cheyenne land. I knew the Cheyenne and the Pawnee weren't on friendly terms, so I warned Tall Shadow. He was ready for them when they attacked. We've been friends ever since. He respects me just as I respect him and his people."
"Why doesn't Mother like them?"
"Your mother likes the city, Cari."
"And you don't?" Cari had lived in Philadelphia with her mother until she was six and they'd moved west to join him. She'd thought the city nice, but she preferred living on the ranch.
"Once I saw the beauty of this land, I knew I could never go back." He reined in his mount. Above them, the sky was blue and cloudless. He pointed to the snow-topped mountains on the horizon. "This is God's country, Cari. It's beautiful and open and free. If a man works hard, he can build a good life for himself here, and I intend to do just that. I'm going to make our ranch the finest in the territory." James drew a deep, satisfied breath as he looked around. After a quiet moment, he urged his horse on.
Cari had never been to the Cheyenne village before, and when they reached it late that morning, she stared in awe. There were more than forty tipis in the encampment. Children were running about laughing and playing in the unusually fine weather. The Cheyenne women who were tending the cooking fires stopped their work to watch them ride in.