The leader turned from the other man and faced Buck again. He held the fish a bit higher and pointed at the two blankets draped over the log near the fire, opposite where the women sat.
Buck nodded, realizing that the man wanted to trade the fish for the blankets. He had no problem with that. They had other blankets in one of their packs, so he would gladly give away two blankets, just to see these men be on their way. He stood, grabbed up the blankets, and handed them to their leader.
The man grunted and pointed to one of the horses they’d been using to carry some of their supplies.
“No, he can’t have that! It was my father’s horse!” Amanda shouted, although she didn’t make a move.
With his head lowered, Thunder stood and released a throaty growl. Buck had to hush the dog once more, and Thunder obeyed, never taking his eyes off the warrior.
The Indian’s eyes narrowed at the dog, seemingly unafraid. Then he pointed to the horse again.
Buck shook his head, but changed his mind when the Indian made a sudden advance toward Amanda, holding his knife. Extending his hand in a sign of peace, Buck moved quickly to the horse, and led it over to the men. He then handed the reins to the leader, hoping this would satisfy the Indians, and they would leave. Since Blackfeet were known for their excellent horsemanship and raided other tribes to take their best horses, Buck was actually surprised that the tall one would settle for the chestnut brown horse that had belonged to Amanda’s father, and not the beautifully marked spotted horse that Jim used to ride.
The Indian grunted and dropped the fish across the log. Mounting his painted horse in one fluid motion, he rode away, pulling Amanda’s father’s horse by a rawhide rope, while the other two Indians followed.
Buck heaved a sigh of relief. Either Amanda’s God or Mary’s guardian spirit must have been watching over them, because he never expected the Blackfeet to leave so quickly. He figured they would want more.
“You gave that man my father’s horse!” Amanda hollered, turning an angry face on Buck. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinkin’ about you, Mary, and the babies,” he replied in an equally angry tone. “If I hadn’t given ’em the horse they wanted, we coulda all been killed.”
“But thee had no right to give my father’s horse away without asking my permission.” Amanda’s voice quavered, and Buck figured she was on the verge of tears.
“Would ya have given it?” he asked, already knowing her answer.
She shook her head. “No, I would not.”
“Would ya rather that I gave you or Little Fawn to those Indians?”
“No, of course not, but …”
“Knowin’ the situation, I gave ’em what they wanted, and now they’re gone, so you oughta be glad for that.” Buck wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m surprised that Indian settled for so little, though. They could have taken all our horses and supplies if they’d wanted to, or even done worse.”
“Buck is right,” Mary interjected. “We be lucky they only took blankets and one horse. Could have took everything—even us or babies.”
Amanda nodded, her shoulders trembling. “I am ever so thankful that no one was hurt, especially our children.”
“Me, too,” Buck said. “We’re all lucky to be alive.”
When Amanda lay beside Little Fawn in their tent that night, all she could think about was Buck and how he’d given away her father’s horse in order to keep the peace with those Blackfeet Indians. Her last encounter with Blackfeet had ended when she’d shown them her father’s Bible, and this time his horse had saved them.
Amanda scolded herself as she continued to think about things. She felt terrible that she’d given Buck a hard time because he’d given away Papa’s horse. While it was good to be brave and stand up for oneself, at times, like today, the less that was said, the better. They were fortunate that the outcome hadn’t been worse.
After the encounter, Mary had also explained to Amanda that Indians valued horses, so there was no reason to worry about her father’s horse, for she was sure it would be well cared for.
I thank Thee, Lord, for keeping us safe, Amanda prayed. Please continue to guide and direct us as we complete our journey. And when we get to the Spalding Mission, I pray that Thou wilt give each of us what we are looking for. She paused and stroked Little Fawn’s silky head. And may my daughter grow up to be a woman of courage, who will love You as much as I do and be willing to serve You with her whole heart.
CHAPTER 44
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Summer was just a memory. The warm days had been replaced with cool, crisp mornings, and the bugs were no longer a nuisance. The aspens had turned a bright golden yellow and stood in stark contrast to the pine trees. Birds flew overhead in large groups, making their southward journey. Fall was upon them, and Buck said they might see some snow soon.
Amanda had always loved fall in New York. It pleased her to see that, although they were different species, the trees out West also showed off distinctive colors before the cold and gray of winter set upon them.
Although they were getting closer to their destination, they still had a ways to go. Amanda was weary of traveling and figured Mary, Buck, and especially Thunder were, too. She knew they would all be glad once they reached the mission.
They’d encountered a few trappers along the way, as well as some Flathead Indians, who’d been hunting. Amanda had kept Little Fawn’s face turned away from the men so she wouldn’t be asked any questions about why she had an Indian baby. Every day she prayed that God would grant them traveling mercies and reveal Himself to Buck.
One evening, after Mary and Little Joe had gone to bed, and Amanda had put Little Fawn down, as well, she decided to sit by the fire awhile, because she couldn’t sleep. She took a seat on a log across from where Buck sat. Thunder slept nearby, awaiting his turn to keep watch.
Amanda looked up at the star-studded sky, while taking her hair out of the restraining bun she wore every day under her Quaker bonnet. “It’s a beautiful evening,” she murmured as a few ringlets sprang free and fell loosely around her face.
Buck nodded. “Cold, though. Winter will be here soon, and it’ll bring snow.”
She shivered. “I had hoped to be at the mission by now. The idea of traveling in the snow worries me.”
“Nothin’ to worry about. We still have plenty of blankets to keep warm, and the horses are used to the cold.”
Amanda rubbed her arms briskly. “If it’s this cold already, I can’t imagine how it’ll feel once the snow flies. Will it get very deep?”
“Some areas end up gettin’ closed off once winter’s truly here, but we oughta be at the mission before the snow socks in too bad.” Buck left his seat, took a blanket from one of their packs, and wrapped it around Amanda’s shoulders. Then he seated himself beside her. “Is that better?”
“Yes, thank you.” She smiled. “I have to admit I don’t miss the bugs now that the weather has turned colder.”
Buck nodded.
As a coyote’s lonely howl sounded in the distance, they sat quietly for several minutes; then Amanda turned to him and said, “I know I have said this before, but I really appreciate all that you’ve done for us, Buck. We could not have made it this far without you.”
“I do what I know is best,” he replied with a brief shrug.
“You are a good man, Buck McFadden. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”
“You are the good one,” he said. “Much better than me.”
Amanda opened her mouth to comment, but her words were cut off when he touched her lips with his finger. She read the longing in his eyes as he gazed at her. Then he cradled her face in his hands and gently caressed her cheeks with his fingertips. He leaned closer, put his arms around her waist, and kissed her.
Amanda’s heart thumped so rapidly she could almost hear it. The touch of his lips brought pure joy to her soul, yet a deep-seated fear crept into her fast-beating heart. So ma
ny times she had wondered what Buck’s kiss would be like, and it was even more wonderful than she could have imagined. She could hardly breathe from this unexpected feeling. She wanted him to kiss her again.
What is wrong with me? The words came uninvitingly into her head. She was a white woman raised in a proper, Christian home. She should not be kissing a man who wasn’t a committed Christian. Had she done or said something to give Buck the idea that she saw him as anything more than her friend? Although she’d never spoken a word about her feelings, could Buck tell what she’d been wishing for?
Even the friendship they had come to know was risky. “Friendship can lead to love.” Amanda had heard her father say that many times. That had been the case in his marriage to Amanda’s mother. Ruth Collins, a farmer’s daughter, had wed Clarence Pearson when she was a young woman of seventeen. She was the oldest in a family of ten children, and her parents were anxious to see her married off so they would have one less mouth to feed. She and Clarence had begun their marriage based only on friendship, but later it had turned to love. Amanda’s father had told her this when she’d become a young woman.
Using all the willpower she could muster, Amanda pulled free from Buck’s embrace, and shook her head slowly. “I am sorry. I should not have allowed that to happen. I don’t know what came over me.”
Buck’s forehead creased. “There ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. I kissed you, so it’s my fault.”
“But I let you kiss me, because I wanted it.” Amanda flinched as she admitted those words. It was not right for a woman to flirt with a man or let him know how much she was attracted to him. She’d heard her aunt Dorothy say so many times. Not that her father’s sister had much experience with men. She was forty years old and still not married. She’d probably never kissed a man, either.
Buck reached his hand out to Amanda, but she quickly stood up. “No, please! We must not let our feelings get in the way of good judgment.” She swallowed hard and blinked back sudden tears. “I do care about you, Buck, but it would never work for us to be together.”
Rising to his feet and standing in front of her, Buck felt a muscle in his cheek twitch as he held her gaze. “Is it because I’m part Indian?”
“No, it’s not that,” she assured him. “But you are not a Christian.”
“You’re right; it couldn’t work out for us.” Before Amanda could respond, Buck turned and stalked off.
Amanda’s voice caught on a sob. “Dear Lord,” she prayed fervently, “please make him understand.”
She began to pace, twirling the end of her hair between her fingers. Every few minutes her eyes went to the stand of trees where Buck had tied the horses and mules. She still couldn’t believe she’d let him kiss her. Worse than that—she’d enjoyed the kiss and had done nothing to discourage it. Amanda wondered what her father would say if he had seen her being held in Buck’s embrace. Would he be ashamed of her brazen behavior? Probably so. Would he approve of her rescuing an abandoned Indian child? Most likely.
Amanda’s father had always been an upright, godly man, and he’d raised his only daughter to be the same way. If he could have witnessed her behavior with Buck, he would have been appalled. And why shouldn’t he be? Amanda was aghast herself. Not because she believed white people were better than Indians or that it was beneath her to kiss a man who was half-Indian. No, it was because she knew it was wrong to be unequally yoked with an unbeliever.
Amanda wondered if she would have reacted to any man’s kiss the way she had to Buck’s. Nathan had never kissed her on the mouth, only her hand. That certainly hadn’t left her breathless the way Buck’s kiss had.
The memory of Buck’s gentle touch caressing her face and the pleasant feel of his warm lips upon her own lingered in Amanda’s mind. How wonderful it had felt to be held so closely by him—almost as if she belonged there. “Right or wrong,” she murmured, “I have fallen in love with Buck. But he must never know.”
CHAPTER 45
Buck rode in silence, trying to keep his mind on the trail ahead and a wary eye out for any kind of trouble. So far they had been fortunate. They’d met up with several more bands of Indians, but none of them were hostile. They’d never asked for anything other than a simple trade of cooking utensils, blankets, or food. Thanks to their loyal companion Thunder, any threats from wildlife had also been kept to a minimum. If the spirits smiled down on them, they might make Fort Walla Walla by noon tomorrow.
It had been a long five months since Buck had first met Amanda. And oh, how things had changed between them since then. So many events had occurred during that time—some good, some bad. And somehow he’d managed to lose his heart to the beautiful white woman. They would soon part, when he would leave her and Little Fawn at the mission and return to his home in the Rockies.
Though she’d be gone from his sight, Amanda would never be gone from his heart. Of that much, he was certain. After the kiss they had shared, he would never forget her. He could still picture Amanda unraveling her hair out of the bun she wore every day. Buck had tried to think of other things, but it was difficult.
If only things could be different, he thought. If she were Indian and believed as I do, then maybe …
Buck drew in a deep breath and tried to shake the image of Amanda from his head. He was thankful she had respected his need to be alone when they camped each evening. Being close to her was pure torture, and he knew that one look from her intense blue eyes would have banished his resolve to keep her at arm’s length.
He shook his head slowly. I should not have agreed to be her guide. Was he ready to be on his own again? Would he be satisfied to once again have brother hawk as his only companion? One thing was certain: being around Amanda was more difficult than dealing with a band of hostile Indians.
When they awoke the following morning, a blanket of pristine snow covered the ground, giving everything a peaceful, serene look. Tree limbs dipped low beneath the weight of the wintry blanket, and powdery flakes of snow danced against the gray sky. The snow must have started shortly after they’d retired for the night.
When Amanda peered out the opening of the tent and saw Buck adding wood to their campfire, a sense of longing welled in her soul. Crawling out of the canvas shelter, she stood and stretched her legs. In a childlike manner, she couldn’t resist facing the sky and opening her mouth to catch a few snowflakes on the tip of her tongue. Her delight lasted only a minute or so, and just that quickly, the childhood memory faded.
She bit her bottom lip and frowned, wondering if the snow might prevent them from traveling. But then, there was no wind, and the horses were surefooted. Their travels might be slowed, but she was sure they would make several miles, just as they had been doing each day, and every passing mile would bring them closer to their final destination. Her conflicting thoughts left her confused, Amanda realized, for she wanted nothing more than to arrive at the Spalding Mission. At the same time she knew it could be their final good-byes and that Buck would leave them at the mission and be gone forever.
Fort Walla Walla lay just up ahead. Amanda could see it as they crested a hill. It looked like a typical wilderness trading post, with log walls built high and its gates closed tightly against unwanted intruders. The compound stood in a clearing, with tall, snow-covered fir trees surrounding the buildings. It was a welcome beacon for weary travelers and traders alike.
Buck would soon be going back to his home in the Rocky Mountains, and she would probably never see him again. Would he miss her as much as she would him? Would he regret not having sought out the one true God? Perhaps it was best that she would never know the answer to her burning questions. It would only bring more pain to her already broken heart to know that he ached for her as much as she did for him, yet would not give himself to the Lord.
Amanda’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Buck’s deep voice. “We’ll get some supplies here and rest a few days,” he announced.
She smiled in response, knowing they would
n’t be leaving right away. His concern for their welfare was evident, not only by the tone of his voice, but from the sincere expression on his handsome face.
Someone inside the fort must have seen them coming, for the large wooden gates opened, bidding them entrance to this wilderness post, where spirals of smoke drifted up from chimneys, and horses whinnied a greeting from the large split-rail corral.
As they entered the compound, Amanda spotted a tall man dressed in buckskins and wearing a long coat and hat made from an animal skin. He had long brown hair and a scruffy beard, peppered with gray. He reminded Amanda a bit of Jim, and she wondered if Mary had noticed it, too.
Buck dismounted from his horse and came around to help Amanda and the baby down, as well as Mary and Little Joe. Amanda had no sooner stepped to the ground when the burly looking man stepped up to Buck and said, “You can put your horses over there with the others.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Buck said, looking back at the women. “Amanda and Mary, you should take the babies and go inside the main building where it’s bound to be warmer.”
“You can follow me in,” the man said to the women. “I’ve got some some grub warmin’ over the fire.”
As Amanda and Mary, carrying their children in their cradleboards, followed the big man toward the main post, Buck tended the horses. Amanda looked forward to spending a few days at the fort to rest up and replenish their supplies. Her happiness was heightened by knowing she’d be around Buck a little longer.
A blast of warm air greeted Amanda as she and Mary entered the log structure used as the main post. Bundles and stacks of supplies littered the floor along one side of the building. A huge stone fireplace graced one wall, and a roaring fire emitted enough warmth to heat the entire room. A black kettle hung in the center, with a stewlike mixture bubbling inside. Three split-log chairs sat in front of the fireplace, and a bearskin rug lay on the floor a few feet from the hearth.
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