Yellowstone Dawn (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 4)

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Yellowstone Dawn (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 4) Page 2

by Peggy L Henderson


  The woman studied him wordlessly, then her eyes grew wide.

  “Josh . . . Josh Osborne?”

  Josh couldn’t have been more surprised at the words she uttered than if the earth had suddenly swallowed him up.

  Chapter 2

  Josh stared at the woman.

  “You know me?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together. The woman blinked, but didn’t look away.

  “We met about five years ago in Virginia City,” she said, raising her voice over the howl of the wind.

  Was that disappointment he saw in her eyes? Josh strained his mind, trying to recollect having met her before. She couldn’t have been more than a young girl at the time. But then again, fair-skinned, light-haired white women had never held his attention.

  “You can share the shelter,” she offered, moving away some of the branches. Bewildered, Josh realized he still knelt on the ground in the freezing wind. He pushed through the branches and crawled into the dry and calm space beneath the tree, pushing his rifle and blanket in front of him. He bit back a groan when pain shot through his arm. He felt a wetness running along his chest, and knew the bullet wound was oozing blood again. The lowest branches of the tree scraped against his head, and he ducked lower.

  “Not exactly fancy, but better than being out in the open,” the young woman said. She scooted to the side in an awkward motion as if it pained her to move, and allowed him more room. Josh assessed her quickly, wondering if she was injured. A thousand questions flooded his mind. The blankets she had wrapped around her body made her appear large and bulky. The fine features of her face, and her dainty hands told him there should be a small woman under all those covers.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, breaking the silence between them. “Not that I blame you,” she continued, and laughed softly. ”You weren’t exactly the friendly sort.”

  “Refresh my memory,” he said. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what a white woman, one he presumably had met before, would possibly be doing at the sight of a massacre of a family of Shoshone in the middle of nowhere, this time of year.

  “Your father’s mercantile. I ran into you. Literally. You accused me of having no common sense. Then you left in a huff.”

  Even in the dimming light, Josh noticed a sparkle in her green eyes. “That’s a lot of detail to remember for such a quick encounter.”

  “There’s a lot more I remember, but you wouldn’t be interested in those details.”

  Josh’s eyebrows rose. Was she flirting with him? He’d encountered white women of questionable morals who toyed with a man’s mind that way. The sides of her lips twitched, just before she smiled brightly at him. He frowned in response.

  “You’ve got a bullet hole in your shirt,” she said suddenly. Her smile faded, and she leaned toward him. He glanced sideways at his arm. His buffalo-hide robe fell open to expose his torn buckskin shirt where the bullet entered his shoulder. The area around it was stained dark with his blood. The woman’s hand reached out, and she touched the area. He couldn’t suppress a hiss, and he flinched.

  “When did you get shot?” she asked. “That looks fresh.”

  “This morning,” Josh said in a low voice, gritting his teeth.

  “Did you remove the bullet? That wound is going to fester if you don’t treat it properly.”

  Josh stared at the concerned look on her face. She spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, not like some female who would turn to hysterics at the sight of blood.

  “It’ll be fine ‘til morning. I can’t start a fire in this weather to sterilize a knife.”

  “I’ll take it out for you, if you want. In the morning.”

  Their eyes met. Josh studied her face. Her skin was pale from the cold, and her eyes had dark circles underneath them. He wished he could start a fire to offer more warmth. Her layers of blankets would have to be enough for the night.

  “What’s your name,” he asked slowly.

  “Danica. Danica Jensen. But my friends call me Dani. Or, the Shoshone family who took me in …the ones I traveled with, called me Kumaa ekon nawipin. I really don’t know what that means. Maybe you do.”

  Josh couldn’t decide whether to frown, or laugh at the name The People had given her. How did she know he would understand Shoshone? How did she know so much about him? The black hair and his bronze skin gave away the Indian part of his parentage. But how did she know that part was Shoshone? Perhaps she was only guessing. She had said maybe he’d know.

  “Well? Do you know what it means?” she pressed, when he didn’t answer. He scrutinized her face. Rather than look away from his stare, her eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah, I think the name probably suits you,” he drawled slowly.

  She glared at him. “You’re not going to tell me,” she accused. “Fine. It doesn’t matter now anyways. They’re all dead.” Her voice cracked, despite her effort to appear indifferent. She pulled the blankets more firmly around herself, and shifted her body awkwardly to lean against the trunk of the tree. Her eyes closed, and her face contorted in a grimace. Josh wondered again if she was injured. He pulled his own blanket around his shoulders to ward off the cold.

  “Miss Jensen, what do you know about that family of Shoshone that was massacred a few miles south of here?”

  Her eyes flew open. “You know about them?”

  “Your tracks from the site where they got killed led me here to you,” he said slowly, studying her face for her reaction.

  “They were good people,” she whispered. She sniffed, and swiped a hasty hand over her eyes. “They helped me out last summer. I needed to get back to Virginia City, but I lost my way in the wilderness. I don’t know if they ever planned to return me to a white settlement. I have no idea how to get out of this wilderness, and we haven’t come across any white people . . . until today.” She laughed with disdain.

  “You’ve been with them for nearly a year?”

  “Close to it. I can’t remember.” She shrugged.

  Josh frowned. Her vague answers only begged for more questions. What was a white woman doing traveling with a family of mountain Shoshone?

  “Who attacked you?”

  She shook her head, her eyes furrowing. “It happened so fast, no one had a chance to even react. Grandmother, kakuu, she threw a blanket over me when the first shots fired, and pushed me to the ground. They came from out of nowhere. I heard horses, and loud yelling, and just lots of guns firing. Kakuu fell on top of me, and I couldn’t move.”

  “No doubt that saved your life. You don’t know how many men there were? You didn’t see any of them?”

  “I didn’t see them. I only saw one of the horses before Kakuu covered me with that blanket. It had a cavalry brand on its left shoulder. I assumed the men had to be soldiers. I’ve heard about the army rounding up the Indians.”

  “Cavalry brand?” Josh frowned again. The men he’d been tracking were definitely not cavalry. “How do you know it was a cavalry brand?”

  Miss Jensen raised her brows, and looked at him as if he was daft. “The letters U and S on the left shoulder? I believe that’s the brand of the US cavalry.”

  Josh studied her. The iciness in her tone matched the frigid wind beyond their shelter. His mind reeled. How did a poacher get hold of government horses?

  “Who shot you?” she asked.

  “The same men who killed the family you were with. I’ve been tracking them for days. They’re not cavalry. They’re poachers.”

  “Why would they attack an innocent group of people?”

  “Damned if I know,” Josh growled. He adjusted his left hip, and stretched out on the ground. “Listen.” He raised his head and looked at the woman huddled against the tree trunk. “We should probably both get some rest. In the morning, this storm should have blown over. Then we can figure out what to do.”

  Miss Jensen stared at him. “I already know what I need to do,” she said firmly. “I need to get to Virginia City. Do you know how far it is fr
om here?”

  “About two day’s walk I’d guess. You’re just within the northwestern boundaries of the national park. Virginia City is due west of here.”

  “Okay. Good.” She slowly eased herself to the ground with a groan, and huddled up in a ball, her limbs drawn up to her trunk, as best as he could tell. She raised her head again briefly. “Good night, Josh. I’ll remove your bullet in the morning.” With those words and a deep sigh, she nestled herself into her covers.

  Josh stared at her bulk for a few more minutes, then settled into his own blanket, adjusting his weight to rest on his right hip. His mind still reeled with questions. This woman wasn’t going to provide any answers about herself freely, that much was clear. Not that he wanted to know anything about her, he told himself. She wasn’t his concern. His focus needed to stay on the men he’d been tracking. Closing his eyes for some much-needed rest, Josh hoped he could pick up their tracks again in the morning to continue his pursuit.

  *****

  Danica closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come. Josh Osborne. Her heart sped up, and her hands clutched at her stomach. A man she never in her wildest dreams expected to meet again. Her mind wandered back five years to the day she had first met him. She’d been scurrying through town in her brother’s old clothes, trying to evade her latest would-be beau, Trent Sloacum. Her friend Maddie had suggested they hide inside the mercantile, which had just opened its doors to begin the business day. Running through the door, she had collided head-on with the most handsome young man she had ever laid eyes on, and her sixteen-year-old heart and mind were in love at first sight.

  There had been something about him she couldn’t define. His intense dark eyes perhaps when he glared at her with obvious distaste, or maybe it had been his strong hands that grabbed her arms, or the solid feel of muscle as her body collided against his. Danica didn’t know the reason. She simply knew that in all her sixteen years, she had never fancied herself smitten with anyone. And she was smitten with Josh Osborne. She’d seen him only briefly once more, but she never forgot him.

  The memory of him had stayed with her over the next five years. No man she’d met since could compare. She knew her father would never approve of a man like Josh Osborne. His own father was a well-respected citizen and merchant in Virginia City, but because Josh’s mother had been an Indian, Danica’s father would surely shoot Josh on sight. In her father’s eyes, all Indians were in allegiance with the devil, no matter if they had a Christian upbringing or not.

  Not that there was ever any hope for her that Josh Osborne would fancy a girl like her. Her friend Kate Russell had warned her that Josh was not interested in white women, nor was he a settling kind of man. But a girl could have her dreams, and Danica clung firmly to hers.

  The Josh Osborne she met tonight, the man who slept mere feet away from her, was almost as she remembered him. He’d grown a bit older, his youthful face more chiseled now than the twenty year old man she lost her heart to. His eyes were the same; dark and serious. If anything, his shoulders were broader, and his body stronger now than it was back then. His thick black hair still hung in unruly strands to his shoulders.

  Of all the places for her to meet him again, why here? Why now? Danica’s entire life had changed during that ill-fated trip last summer. She hadn’t seen her father in almost a year, and she wasn’t at all sure what kind of reception she would receive when she finally returned to Virginia City, but she had to get home. Surely he wouldn’t turn her away. Her future held no certainty. She didn’t know what she would do if her father sent her away. She’d almost asked Josh if he would be willing to take her to Virginia City, but he seemed determined to pursue the men who had shot him and killed her Shoshone family.

  His gunshot wound worried her. She was almost certain that he also had another injury lower on his body, the way he’d kept shifting his weight. He was obviously in a lot of pain and discomfort, but to a casual observer, it didn’t show. That bullet had to come out of his shoulder, and she prayed the storm would let up by morning, and she could build a fire. Would he allow her to remove the bullet? She’d offered, but he had neither accepted nor declined. She couldn’t possibly imagine him taking out the bullet by himself.

  Danica shifted her weight to adjust her aching back. She huddled more deeply into her blankets. The cold seeped through even three layers of wool and her buckskin clothing. She couldn’t imagine Josh being warm with only one blanket, but he did wear a buffalo hide jacket. She focused her ears on him, trying to hear past the whistling of the wind, and the groans and creaks of the tall lodgepoles as they swayed and bent through the gale. She heard his steady rhythmic breathing, and it gave her an odd sort of comfort.

  *****

  Danica woke suddenly, startled by the absolute stillness all around her. Light streamed in between the branches of the tree she found herself under. A sharp jab in her gut brought her fully awake, and she struggled to raise herself to a sitting position. One hand rubbed her stomach, the other kneaded her sore back. Her eyes darted around her little shelter. Josh was gone. The blankets fell down her shoulders, and she hastily pulled them back around herself when an icy blast of cold air hit her.

  She scrambled to her knees, and crawled out from under the tree. The storm had passed. It had left behind a frozen world. The sun shone in ribbons through the canopies of the tallest lodgepoles, reflecting off the ice and fresh snow on the ground, creating the illusion of millions of shimmering crystals and diamonds. Danica had to squint to shield her eyes from the brightness of it all. The smell of wood smoke drew her attention to the man squatting on the ground some ten yards to her left. He was feeding branches to an already sizeable fire. A spit was fashioned over the pit, and a large bird hung from a skewer, juices from the cooking meat sending delicious smells through the air.

  Danica’s stomach growled loudly in response. She hoisted herself awkwardly to a standing position, wobbling precariously on unsteady legs. She arched her back in a stretch, while keeping the blankets wrapped firmly around herself. Looking toward the fire, she caught Josh staring at her intently. Had he noticed? Her heart sped up. She turned, and wordlessly headed further into the forest for some privacy.

  When she returned, Josh stood. He limped toward her. Just as she’d suspected, he did have another injury.

  “Good morning,” she called, trying to sound cheerful. Josh pulled a large hunting knife from his belt.

  “Mornin’,” he answered gruffly. “If you’re hungry, there’s some meat on the fire. If you’re still willing, I’d appreciate it if you’d remove that bullet from my shoulder.” He held out the knife for her. She glanced at the weapon, then at his bronze hand that held the blade. Finally, she met his eyes. With a slight twinge of alarm, she thought his pupils looked a little unfocused.

  “Are you feeling all right?” she asked, and reached a hand up to his forehead. Josh took a step back when the back of her hand made contact with his skin. To her relief, he didn’t feel overly warm. He must simply be in a lot of pain that he tried hard to conceal.

  “Yes, I’ll remove the bullet,” she said when he didn’t answer her. ”Let me put this knife in the fire, and you tell me when you’re ready.” He nodded, and she walked past him. Danica sank to her knees, one hand pressed into the small of her back, and the other held the knife in the fire. She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to rise from the ground without support. She felt rather than saw his presence next to her, and pulled her blankets more firmly around herself.

  Minutes passed in silence, then Josh said, “the knife’s ready.”

  Danica turned her head toward him, and watched him pull his shirt over his head. She stared openly, and her heart hammered against her ribs. She’d seen plenty of bare-chested men, but the magnificent display of muscles before her took her breath away. The only thing that marred the beautiful vision was the angry-looking hole in Josh’s shoulder, and the dried blood smeared down his chest. Just at his belt line above his left hip, a fles
h wound stood out prominently in red against his bronze skin. Danica wondered how he could be so unaffected by the bitter cold. He dropped to his knees in front of her, and looked at her, his expression unreadable.

  “Do it,” he said firmly, and pulled the knife from the flames, thrusting it at her. Danica held his eyes for a moment, then took the knife from him, her cold hand brushing against his warm one. Her fingers tingled to life instantly, the sensation radiating up her arm and down her center, to settle somewhere deep inside her. A familiar stirring and fluttering in her stomach brought her back to her senses.

  Danica scooped up a handful of fresh snow, and pressed it to his wound. “Perhaps this will make it a bit numb,” she offered. Josh hadn’t moved. Once the snow melted and dripped through the cracks between her fingers down his chest and abdomen, she slowly raised the knife to the entry wound. Using her other hand as a lever to part the hole, she inserted the sharp point of the knife into the wound, and felt for the bullet. Probing with the knife and her fingers, she soon realized the projectile wasn’t deep, and she was able to lift it out easily with the knife.

  Josh still hadn’t flinched, moved in any way, or emitted any sounds of discomfort. Danica knew he must be in excruciating pain, and she hastily swiped her arm across her sweaty forehead. With a final tug and scrape, the bullet protruded far enough out that she could take hold of it with two fingers. She held the bloody slug triumphantly in front of her, then quickly pressed more snow to the bleeding wound. Only then did she dare to look up at Josh. Danica’s heart leapt to her throat. Her blankets had fallen away from her while she worked. His eyes focused on her round and swollen abdomen, a deep frown on his face. Her baby kicked out sharply at that precise moment.

 

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