by Karen Kay
Alys smiled. “Ah, the very best, you say?”
“I do.”
Alys sighed. “Tell me, ladies. Will you risk taking a challenge?”
Both young women glanced at one another.
Alys carried on, “If you can catch him some night, look again at the figure of the Wolf Shadow, if you dare, that is. And when you do, then you will have to tell me true if you have ever seen a man or an animal as handsome or as well built as the man we call the Wolf Shadow.”
Emma and Abigail exchanged a more wide-eyed gape, both ladies coming to sit up perhaps a little straighter than was necessary. Emma commented, “Why would you notice such a thing?”
Alys turned her back on her visitors, choosing to stare, instead, into the early evening. “Who wouldn’t? In truth, young Emma, your comment makes me wonder about you.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You do prefer the male gender, do you not?”
Her question was met by the loudest of gasps. “Why, I never.”
“That’s what worries me about you,” came Alys’s rejoinder.
As though her chair had suddenly been set afire, Emma jolted to her feet. Chin out, nose in the air, she commented, “I did not come here to be insulted.”
“No, I suppose you expected to give out ridicule, not receive any.”
“Really, I refuse to stay here one more instant and endure your—”
“Hush, Emma,” Abigail commanded. “We are here as guests of Miss Alys and you have done little this evening but insult her. If you cannot keep a civil tongue in your mouth, then I suggest you leave here with all due haste.” And while Emma clucked, young Abigail turned back toward her hostess. “Thank you so much for the tea and the chat. It has been enlightening seeing you and talking to you. I hope that you will excuse Emma’s impudence and will not hold it against her. I, for one, will communicate your opinion to my father. It is certainly a fresh outlook.”
Alys nodded toward her.
“I also hope that you will come and visit me soon where we can…talk some more of your trip to the Continent.”
“Of course I will. Thank you for dropping by to see me.” Alys inclined her head toward them. “Now, please, our maid will see you to the door.”
And with that said, Alys turned her back on the two women and their chaperon, retracing her steps to the window, the click of the door signaling their departure.
Alys’s thoughts immediately turned to Moon Wolf. Was he out there, she wondered, challenging the soldiers? And if he was, why was he doing it, fighting them in the light of day? What did he hope to accomplish with such recklessness?
But most of all, and where her thoughts really were leading, was simply this: why had he not sought her out this past week?
She thought back briefly to the night they had shared. It had been wonderful. It had been perfect. But, if she really thought about it, Moon Wolf had been acting strangely then, too.
Was something wrong?
Well, standing here at her window certainly accomplished nothing. She had best leave the house and go and determine what the commotion was all about. If it were the Wolf Shadow doing something, she would do what she could to help him.
This decided, she turned away and hurried toward the door.
Her stomach fell, her heart stopped for a moment, then it raced on, thumping wildly, as though it might never stop.
She gazed on at the fight as though in a dream.
What did he do? In one part of the fort, a fire blazed—the Bureau of Indian Affairs’s storage building—while farther away another fire twisted through the army barracks. Soldiers and civilians alike tore from one part of the fort to another, weapons forgotten as each man and each woman made ready lines for water. Shortly, she heard the reverberation of shots fired from even farther away, from the stables. Soon frenzied horses raced through the streets.
Alys didn’t see him. She couldn’t find Makoyi, either. But she didn’t need to; she knew the Wolf Shadow was responsible for this. He had become reckless this past week, starting skirmishes, battling the soldiers single-handedly.
Why? Why had he taken to fighting in the light of day? Did he not know that such a confrontation would be difficult to win? Especially since he could not fade into the shadows?
Her eyes scanned the horizon for a glimpse of him. Nothing out there until…There, off in the distance, barely discernable, raced a figure…a man with a wolf by his side. Up, up he climbed to the top of a mound, Makoyi by his side.
Briefly, Makoyi howled, and Moon Wolf cried out his war whoop before the two disappeared down the other side, their figures lost within a group of Indians that had appeared from out of nowhere. No shots followed their trail, the townsfolk remaining too busy putting out the fires.
An explosion ripped through the air as ammunition caught fire. Efforts to put out the blaze doubled. Lieutenant Warrington rushed past her, issuing orders.
Lieutenant Warrington? An idea suddenly flashed. Was it possible her home might not be so heavily guarded at the moment? Could she take this opportunity to steal into the caves?
She had to try. She had to speak with Moon Wolf and discover his plans. She had never seen him so reckless as he had been this past week. If he continued taking so many chances…she didn’t want to finish the thought.
Turning away from the throng of people, she picked up her skirts and hurried back toward her home, fighting the crowd that pushed her in the opposite direction. It took a few minutes for her to free herself, a few more to ensure no one watched her, and then, lifting her skirts once more, she ran as quickly as she could toward the back of the fort.
Where was he?
She had been waiting for what seemed like hours. Was he still using the caverns?
She had expected him to be here when she arrived. But she had figured incorrectly.
She remained seated on the blankets of his bed, alone.
What was that? Some rocks hitting the cavern floor? Or was it Moon Wolf?
Footsteps sounded off in the distance, coming down the ladder.
She breathed out a sigh of relief, and, standing, rushed forward to meet him even before he’d had the opportunity to take more than a few steps.
“Ah,” she began, unable to stem the flow of sarcasm in her tone, “the great Wolf Shadow has fooled the soldiers yet again…this time.”
His head came up with her words, but it was the only reaction she obtained from him. He barely acknowledged her presence, though his eyes scanned her form up and down.
She couldn’t help feeling that he should have taken her in his arms right then. He should have kissed her until her fears evaporated. It was what she wanted, needed. He did neither, however, saying only, “You should not be here.”
She raised her lantern that she might see his face better. She responded, “And you should not be fighting the soldiers during the day. What are you thinking?”
He ignored this last comment and made to move around her. She stepped in his way. “Please, Moon Wolf, tell me. What are you doing? Why are you starting to attack the fort during the daylight hours?”
“A real wife would not question the wisdom of her husband.”
“What is that supposed to mean? A real wife? And I think I have every right to wonder and question you about your plans.”
He didn’t answer her, merely met her questions with a quick jerk of his head before he made to move around her again. This time she stepped aside.
Luckily Makoyi did not share his master’s curtness. Whining, he came to stand before her. Coming up onto his hind legs, he pressed his paws onto her shoulders, his nose in her face. She laughed and petted the creature. “I’m glad to see that someone here is happy to see me.” She darted a quick look at Moon Wolf, accepting Makoyi’s wet kisses at the same time.
Moon Wolf hardly spared a glance for the two of them before calling to his pet.
Makoyi obeyed his master, coming down on all fours, and trotted off.
She pressed on. “Where have you been this past week? Why have you not come to see me? And why are you attacking the soldiers in the light of day?”
He had taken off his headdress to place it beside his bed. Next he started to remove the black paint from his face. He didn’t answer her, seemingly intent on ignoring her.
She glanced over his body, noting blood on his legs and arms. She asked, “Are you hurt?”
Another shrug. “Some scratches, perhaps. It is nothing. I will go and wash them and they will be fine.”
“Still I would have you sit before me that I might see them for myself.”
He didn’t appear to object to this, but she approached him with a good deal of hesitation.
She touched his arm above a minor cut. He jerked in reaction and shivered, as though her touch had set off a minor explosion within him. She glanced up at him quickly to catch his look, but found that he had already masked whatever he had been feeling.
She cleared her throat nervously and began, “I have become worried about you and I would speak to you about it. But you have not visited me so that I could tell you all that I feel.”
“Humph.”
She gulped. He could make this easier for her.
She volunteered, “I have missed you and have looked for you every night. Why have you not come to me?”
Again, that jerk of his head, a gesture that had to be a purely Native American display. Still, he didn’t speak.
She touched a cut on his leg, watching that limb twist out of her reach. She raised her eyes to his, uttering, “I do not think you are as immune to me as you would like me to believe.”
He said, “Perhaps I am not. But one cannot always control the urges of the body.”
Reeling from the curt comment, she drew back from him. What, for the love of God, was wrong with the man? He practically gushed antagonism…for her.
She tried again. “Are you not going to share your plans with me? Would you have me worry?”
He drew back from her and came up onto his feet. She took note that he was indeed not as invulnerable as he might like her to believe. He said, “I cannot sit here and talk with you now. I must go to the falls and wash these wounds.”
“I could bring you some warm water and do it for you.”
“You could not. You might have come here without incident this once, for there is great commotion within the seizer’s fort, but it cannot be repeated. You must leave now.”
“I will not.”
She watched his body become tense. It was the only indication of his reaction. He said, “I will not have you followed here.”
“I do not believe that I was seen coming here.”
“Still I cannot take the chance. You must go.”
“I will not leave here until I talk to you. This might be the only chance I have to do so. I will not let it pass.”
He didn’t argue the point with her, stating only, “Then you will have to wait for me to return from the falls.”
“Why?” she asked at once. “I will go there with you.”
“You will not.” He frowned at her. “If you wish to discuss something with me, you must wait for me here. I will not speak to you at the falls, I promise you this.”
“But—”
She didn’t finish. He had already turned away from her, was already sauntering down the tunnel that would lead him to the waterfall, the tension about him clearly stating that he would brook no argument.
And she didn’t need his “Do not follow me” to remind her that he did not wish to speak with her.
As his figure dimmed to a silhouette, she let out her breath and prepared herself for a long wait. It appeared she had little choice.
Chapter 18
He never returned. Darn the man.
She should have followed him to the falls despite his protest. She should have demanded the audience he seemed so reluctant to give her.
She made her way to the end of the tunnel now, but she knew he would not be there. He clearly did not wish to speak to her, was all too obviously avoiding her.
Why? What had she done?
She arrived at the falls in time to witness the rise of the full, orange moon in the eastern sky and spared a few moments to admire it. Too soon, she shivered under the cool spray from the water.
“What is wrong?” she asked of no one in particular, perhaps of the moon. Something was. Something was desperately wrong. But what?
And what did Moon Wolf plan next? His schemes no longer seemed to center around the supply wagons, but rather upon a war of hit-and-run with the soldiers, a dangerous game. One hard to outwit.
What could she do but sit and watch…and hope…
Darn the man. What was wrong with him?
Disgusted with herself for caring so much, yet more displeased with him for refusing to communicate, she made her way back through the tunnels, back toward his bed; back to where he had left his headdress. Coming down onto the floor, she picked up the figure-head and fingered the piece absentmindedly.
“The Wolf Shadow,” she whispered to herself, “alone defying the United States cavalry. Alone…”
Or perhaps not.
An idea came to her. A wickedly, wonderful idea.
She only needed to talk to a few people, gather together a few things, and she could perhaps put a plan into action. Hopefully a plan that would ensure the safety of her man.
Hopefully…
Two days later three prairie schooners sat conspicuously within the fort, due to leave soon, the wagons filled to overflowing with whiskey. Guards were posted around the wagons; some lay hidden within the shadows, while others were staked out on the roofs. Clearly, all were expecting a visit from the Wolf Shadow. The situation looked to be more of a trap than any attempt at shipping.
What could she do?
Moon Wolf would not rest until he had stopped the shipment. It would be perfect for him, since he seemed intent to risk his very life.
But tonight he would have help, aid in the form of an ally he would not expect.
She, too, waited in the shadows.
She had escaped her own home, noting that the guards posted around her house seldom bothered to watch her closely. More intent upon their card games than on keeping vigil, the guards allowed her a fair amount of freedom. Perhaps, though, they were relaxed as a result of her recently announced engagement; perhaps, too, there had proved to be little for them to see.
Whatever the cause, she had easily escaped their notice.
Now she waited, perched like the soldiers in the shadows, but with a different purpose from those men Moon Wolf called the seizers.
The hour became late and she yawned, pinching herself and fluttering her eyes to keep them open. She must keep alert; she would not fail her man.
It was close to daybreak, in the darkness before dawn, when she rocked herself awake. She had sensed something. Was it the Wolf Shadow?
She glanced around her yet saw nothing. But it was dark, much too dark. Then, swish, the sound of an arrow whizzed through the early morning air.
One wagon went up in flames, the next, and finally the third. But no one scuffled to put out the flames. Instead, lanterns in hand, the soldiers raced toward the place where the arrows had originated.
Alys followed.
“There he goes!” someone shouted. “Do ya see ’im?”
“Shoot ’im!”
A shot followed. Then a wail of pain.
“What the blazes? You idiot! You’ve hit one of us!”
“Sorry Cap’n.”
Alys sunk back into the shadows.
“Dad blame it, you’re the sorriest excuse for a…”
Alys didn’t wait to hear more. Men were already gaining on the Wolf Shadow.
She had no time to lose. Gulping back her fear, she climbed to the top of a building, a wolf headdress, which she had sewn together, sitting atop her head, though her figure, beneath her borrowed dress, loomed obviously female.
She screame
d at the top of her lungs, “Here I am, you oafs! See if you can catch me!” And she clamored over the side of the building.
“What the…who was that?” It was a soldier speaking.
“Don’t know,” came the reply. “Looked female. First time I’ve ever ’eard ’im speak. Is the Shadow female?”
“Follow her!”
“Yes, Cap’n.”
“And if you find her, shoot her!”
“You ’eard the Cap’n! Find her and shoot her!”
Alys plunged into the shadows, cautioning herself to remain steady. She had planned every detail in advance.
She tore off the headdress, revealing her nightcap. Next the buckskin dress, up and over her head, leaving her standing in her linen nightdress. Then off with the moccasins, uncovering her own silken slippers. She folded the extra items hurriedly—even the headdress, which she had made out of nothing but fur—and stuck them into a pouch beneath her dress.
Then as casually as possible she stepped away from the shadows and into the crowd of people, which had all gathered in the town’s center. Not the least out of place, since all stood in their nightclothes, she joined in with the talk.
“What was that?” she asked someone next to her. “Did you say the Wolf Shadow was female?”
“’Pears so.”
“No, it’s someone else who’s come to help him,” came another reply. “Couldn’t be no female.”
“And why not?” she asked, feigning surprise. “Seems to me a woman could do just as good a job as a man. Did anyone catch the Wolf Shadow this time?”
“Catch him? Can’t rightly figure out who the Wolf Shadow is now.”
Alys smiled. And no one paid her any attention when she gradually drifted off toward her home, pleased as pudding with herself. She had successfully diverted the soldiers away from the real Wolf Shadow.
Now all she had to do was anticipate all his moves.
She grinned to herself. If it all went as easily as this, it should be a piece of cake.
Of course she hadn’t reckoned on Wolf Shadow discovering her surprise so soon, nor had she anticipated his reaction to it. Or perhaps, in the back of her mind, she had—had counted on it all along.