by Karen Kay
“If that is so, then kiss me again, that I might remember the role I’m supposed to play.”
He sighed, and leaning away from her, said, “Forgive me, Princess, but I find these games tedious. It has been many years since I was at court and subjected to them. Out here in the States, a man—or a woman—says exactly as he or she thinks. Do not dally with me. Tell me what it is that you want forthwith, and I will inform you if it is within my power to help you.”
“So I am to be honest with you?”
“Yes.”
“And you will be honest with me, as well?”
“Yes.”
“Were we ever really truthful with one another, do you think?”
Beside himself, he moaned, “I was sincere with you, Princess.”
“Were you?”
“Princess?”
“Very well,” she said, sitting back against the dirt-covered stone wall. “If you must know, the real reason I have come to the States is to find Prince Alathom.”
High Wolf remained silent.
“I do not believe the reports that reached us overseas, and so I have come here to discover the truth.”
Folding his arms over his chest, High Wolf sat back, saying, “Why?”
“Why what? Why don’t I believe the letter that came to me and to Prince Alathom’s parents? Or why am I determined to learn the truth?”
“Both questions should be answered, I think.”
“Very well,” she said. “I don’t believe the reports because I think that news of the prince’s death came too close to our discovering his whereabouts. It is my conviction that the prince is once again trying to shirk his responsibilities. And I must warn you that I am determined to learn the accuracy of the reports sent us because…well, because I would simply know the truth.” She sent him a quick, though evasive glance. “Do not tell me that you would not do the same.”
“Haa’he, yes, that I would. And why have you contacted me? Because you knew I once promised you a favor?”
She glanced away from him. “That is true, but only partially. Actually I believed, and I still do believe”—she shot a coy look at him—“that you have knowledge of where the prince is.”
If the statement startled him, he showed it oddly, for all he did was say, “So I had assumed from something you had told me earlier. But I can’t think of why you would assume this.”
She snorted. “Isn’t it obvious? The two of you left the Continent together. The two of you have probably been together all this time.”
He stared back at her oddly, as though he might be struggling to understand something, and his frown deepened. At some length, he said, somewhat reluctantly, “We left together?”
“Obviously.”
“And when was this?”
Again, she snorted, tossing her head. “Mr. High Wolf, I don’t have the time or the patience for such a pretense.”
“Pretense?”
“You know as well as I what happened ten years ago.”
The atmosphere in their small crevice became suddenly stifling, though High Wolf moved not at all. At some length, however, he said, “Are you telling me that you think the prince and I sailed away together? Ten years ago?”
“Obviously.”
“I don’t see that there is anything obvious about it.”
“Well, there I was alone, and neither one of you was present. It was plain to my way of thinking that you both deserted me.”
“Deserted you? I saw you marry the prince.”
“How could you have done so when he wasn’t even there?…And neither were you.”
“Wasn’t even there? But I—” High Wolf frowned. “Princess, are you telling me that you did not marry him?”
“No,” she said, her voice rising by a slight notch. “I did. By proxy. And only because the both of you had left the country without me. And…and you…You dared to ask for money from me.”
“I what?”
“How can you sit there and pretend that you did not require three hundred gold dukatens in order to quit your claim on me?”
“My what?” Suddenly High Wolf sat up straight. “You married the prince by proxy?”
She nodded.
“And when he returned—”
“He never returned.”
“Not in ten years?”
“No.”
“Saaaa. Princess, what have you been doing for ten long years?”
“Attempting to help run both his country and mine—or do you forget that I am a princess?”
At last High Wolf sighed. “I took no money.”
However, Sierra’s reaction was a curt snort. “I know better.”
“How can you know better? I left the money and your own personal seal in a satchel in the chapel. Whether you believe me or not, I was there at your wedding. I watched you marry the prince.”
“I have already told you. He was not there—it was another man who stood up for him. Besides, if you were there, why did you not step forward?”
As though suddenly drained of energy, High Wolf sat back against the dirt wall. After a few moments, however, he said, “I was too shocked to do so. Princess,” he continued, “this may come as a surprise to you, but I am beginning to believe that we were betrayed.”
“Humph! So you say now.”
“Believe me, Princess. I assure you that I would not have left your side until I was fully satisfied that you had married another. Only then did I leave. And I did not set sail with the prince ten years ago, and I do not know what happened to him, for I made my own passage without giving him any further thought.”
“Huh!” she uttered. “You must know that I don’t believe you.” She glared at him. “This is a country with very few white men. How can it be that you have been here all this time without knowing of the prince’s whereabouts?”
He grinned at her. “It is a good question. Perhaps answered only by the knowledge that the prince has been in camp with an enemy tribe. I believe that Red Hair said he was with the Crow.”
“Red Hair?”
“Governor Clark.”
“And how is it you came upon that information?”
“I listened to your conversation with him at his home when we were both in St. Louis. I wanted to know your real purpose in being here—and I thought he would know it. I learned many things that night, including who was last with the prince.”
“But…I didn’t see you there.”
He smiled. “Of course not. It is the way of the scout that he makes himself invisible to others. Only if I had allowed you to see me would you have done so.”
She gave him a considering glance. “Very well,” she said. “Then you have known all along why I am here, and still you did not seek to help me.”
“I followed the steamboat, did I not? I was there when she sank, and I led you safely away from an enemy tribe. I believe I have helped you.”
“Yes, you have helped me, but at what a cost.”
“Cost? What cost? What have you paid me for my help?”
My heart, she thought. Aloud, she said, “Too much, I fear,” although the words were barely whispered. Then more distinctly, she changed the subject, saying, “It is very easy to spout words—particularly those that you know another wishes to hear. But realize this, I am the one who found that satchel which you claim was filled with money—shortly after my marriage. Nor was it found in the chapel, where you say you left it. But rather I discovered it near the spot where the three of us used to meet. And when I found it, Mr. High Wolf, it contained only my seal…no gold…”
“Then you think I am lying.”
She shrugged. “Yes, I do.”
“I am a scout—”
“Yes,” she said, interrupting him and holding up a hand. “I know. I have heard you say it often enough. Scouts don’t lie.”
He sat in silence for a short time, his attention centered upon the ground. But then, raising his gaze to hers, he said, “Think…If I am right and we were betrayed, do you not know t
hat it would be easy enough for someone to take the money and leave it somewhere else?”
“Mr. High Wolf, I discovered this ’treasure’ at our meeting place…there in the woods. No one else knew about that place—only the three of us.”
At this, he paused, but only for a moment. “Your maid knew, as well as Father Junipero.”
“Maria?” said Sierra, glancing up at him sharply. “Maria would never stoop to do such a thing. No, Mr. High Wolf, I would trust her with my life.”
“Haa’he, I am sure you would.” Then more softly, “But not me.”
She made no response.
“But your maid, Maria, led Father Junipero to our rendezvous spot once. And if I am correct in my assumption, I believe it is Father Junipero who is accountable for leaving that satchel in the woods.”
A scathing look was her reply, before commenting, “Father Junipero, his word and his name, are beyond reproach. Now, I will hear no more talk that maligns his character.”
High Wolf said nothing to this, though there was cynicism in his look.
And Sierra, seeing it, turned her head away, saying, “Mr. High Wolf, I believe that you promised to seek out the whereabouts of my servants; perhaps you had better leave now if you are to keep your word.” Quite deliberately, she stuck her nose in the air.
But if he were affected by her attitude, he said not a word. Instead, he offered, “I will say this only one more time: I tell you the truth. I took no money.”
“Yes, and maybe pigs will someday fly—” She stopped whatever else she’d been about to say, her gaze coming down as though to inspect the dirt beneath her. However, in due course, she raised her glance to stare directly at High Wolf, and said, “I will tell you what I will do: I will think on it.”
“You will think on it? What does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said, that I will think about it…”
“How kind you are,” he uttered sarcastically. But when Sierra had nothing more to say, he at last arose, coming up onto his knees. “Very well,” he said. “But think on this as well, Princess. Why should I lie? What have I to gain by it?”
“My good wishes, perhaps,” she said. “And maybe a renewal of my favor.”
“A renewal of your favor?” She heard him use a curse word—something he had never done in her presence in all their past. And she stared at him—hard—as though by a look alone she could censure him. However, he ignored the look, going on to say, “I think, Princess, that if you examine the facts, you might come to realize that you grossly overestimate the worth of your charms.”
She opened her mouth to retaliate, but was left speechless, having no option but to watch his Adonis-like body as he rose to climb out of their concealed camp.
And truth to tell, though she might be the last to admit it, she very much liked what she saw…
Chapter 13
A dark shadow hung over their camp.
What was it? A man? An animal? A ghost?
And then it was gone, as though it had never been there. And yet, it had…
Silently, stealthily and at first light, High Wolf crept back toward their camp, which was situated under a ledge and between two large rocks. Because it was landscaped so as to remain undetected from the eye, one would have to know it was there in order to see it.
He pulled a face as he came up close to it, dreading what was to come next, for he did not have good news to offer Sierra. True, he had discovered the trail left by her maid and her steward, but the two of them, along with a few of the men, had been taken by Indians; Mandan Indians, friendly to whites, to be sure, but there was a problem…
He shook his head as though the action might clear it. However, it did not.
There were simply too many things on his mind, and High Wolf knew he had need of consultation with an elder from his own clan. He must seek to do this before deciding what course to take with the princess.
But that would involve taking the princess with him farther into Indian country.
Should he do it? Over dangerous territory? Or should he act as instinct demanded, and escort her back to St. Louis, where she would be safely lodged? Thus, he could pursue the trails of her maid, her steward, and her wayward husband—if the prince were still among the living.
But she would not go back there willingly, and the desire to fight her was quickly waning from him. In truth, he was beginning to believe that he had little fight left in him when concerning the princess.
True, he had told her he believed she was overestimating the worth of her charms, and at the time, he had meant it. But as he replayed their most recent conversation, he was beginning to admit that he had been in the wrong.
For years.
In truth, each time he thought back to this morning’s conversation, he knew shame. To think that he had misidentified the person at Sierra’s wedding; the result being wasted years…years that might have been spent in happiness.
Indeed, he could barely think of it without chiding himself. How could he have made such a mistake? He, a scout, prized for his ability to observe?
Worse, he now realized that neither the princess nor Prince Alathom had betrayed him. The prince had probably caught wind of what was occurring and had attempted to thwart it, had most likely left on the ship they had all hired together, thinking that High Wolf and the princess would most likely follow.
But something had gone wrong: No one had foreseen the trouble that could be made by a very vindictive man. A man who hid his evil character behind the cloak of goodness.
Ten years. Ten years…wasted unnecessarily. Worse, Sierra didn’t believe the truth; plus, his chance to prove his innocence had expired the moment he had left the country.
In faith, the whole affair left him feeling as though he had been set adrift. For years, he had nurtured his righteousness, so certain was he in his reasoning.
But to learn that such piousness was based on no more than a series of falsehoods…
It was a sobering fact. And he could only think: Had he taken a closer look; perhaps had spoken up at her wedding, things might be different.
But he had felt helpless at the time; one against an entire nation…no, two nations.
Unfortunately for him, in the here and now, no amount of self-recrimination could erase the past. He could not go back and relive it, much as he wished he could.
However, the truth did provide a means to perhaps right this wrong. In sooth, if he looked at it from a different perspective, he might see that only by learning this truth could he now have a chance to right himself with the princess.
Make no mistake, she might be legally married, but in deed, she could be as innocent as she had been ten years ago. And whether the prince were alive or dead would make little difference to High Wolf. He recognized no such marriage—one in which the groom had never lived with the bride?
No, the princess was free, he realized. Free, to love him…if he could only make her believe in him.
And yet, why should she? From her viewpoint, not only he, but the prince as well, had deserted her.
Could he ever atone for doing such a thing to her? Especially since, unintentionally, it had been true.
He could try. No, that wasn’t strong enough: He would try to make it up to her. He didn’t know how; he didn’t know when but somehow, in some way, he would make reparation.
Oh, how her heart ached.
Confusion, disbelief—alas, ill-will—waged a battle with the deep-seated love that had found its way back into her heart. And she thought that perhaps watching High Wolf go, without so much as a kind word from her, was probably one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. Dear Lord, help me, she cried to herself.
She wanted to believe him. She truly wanted to believe him. Yet how could she? How could she betray what she knew as fact?
And yet…
Deep within her was the desire to forget the past. To leave it alone. After all, what good was it to her now? People change. Situations ch
ange.
Still, how could she forget what he had done? “Once betrayed, a wise monarch never overlooks it, nor does he ever forgive.”
So had spoken a man of wisdom. Her mentor. Father Junipero.
And yet, she remembered happier times. Times when there was no recrimination, only laughter…and the newness of first love…
The violins sang out in harmony, so very sweetly, while the cellos serenaded the assembled guests with one melodious note after the other. The bass, always low and rhythmic, kept the beat to a constant and invariable meter, allowing the dancers certainty in their steps.
Step up, back, hands linked together. Turn, bow, step, back together. High Wolf smiled at her as the dance led them up close to one another, and in his smile was so much affection, Sierra thought she might surely burst with happiness.
As it was she was loath to restrain her delight, and her gay laugh filled the ballroom, causing several pairs of eyes to turn her way.
But what did she care? Tonight was the night. Tonight she and High Wolf would announce their engagement. At last, she thought, she would be able to start her life.
“Are you as excited as I?” asked the princess, as they stepped in time to the music.
High Wolf smiled, executing a turn, walking away from her to the rhythmic beat. However, soon the step brought him up close, and he said, “I am probably much more excited than you are, my love. For I have never known such happiness.”
“Nor I.”
The music ended, the partners bowed and curtsied, and taking a step toward her, High Wolf accepted her hand as he led her off the dance floor and onto the balcony. He took her to a corner, where, leaning against a banister, they were able to gaze out onto the countryside, which was laid out before them there beneath a starlit night. And then, swinging his attention around to her, he said, “Do you feel the excitement in the air?”
Sierra did, indeed, and with a single nod, she smiled up at him.
“Good,” he said, “then for a moment, let us close our eyes and memorize every detail there is about this time, that we might always recall it, even in our old age.”
“Yes,” she said eagerly, for this was a kind of game that the two of them had, of late, been playing. A game that excited her very much.