Sarah's Heart

by Ginger Simpson

  Exhaustion from his ordeal finally caught up with him. Lulled by the soft twittering of songbirds perched in the trees, Wolf’s eyes fluttered, then closed.

  Sarah tiptoed into camp. Wolf had told her he was going to take a nap, so she’d waited in the bushes until she heard him snoring. She didn’t want to wake him. Poor man, he needed his rest. She’d forgotten the clean shirt in her valise and came back clad in her chemise and pants. Water beaded on her arms and drizzled down her face. Her clothes were damp but felt refreshing. She slung her long tresses back and forth, sending water splattering into the air. Her childlike antics peppered Wolf’s face and he bolted into a sitting position, his eyes wide and his hand reaching for his knife. “What the…?”

  “I’m sorry.” She flashed him a sheepish grin. “I should have known better. I was just trying to rid my hair of some of this excess water.” Twisting a handful, she wrung a steady stream onto the ground.

  Wolf wiped his face. “No harm done. It’s just as well. If I sleep now I won’t tonight.” He looked up at her, his smile broadening.

  She suddenly realized her state of undress and embraced herself while sidestepping toward her valise. “I… I… didn’t want to put a dirty shirt on a clean body.” She grabbed the checkered garment, snapped the wrinkles from it and shot one arm through a sleeve. “You can look away, you know.”

  He averted his gaze, staring at the ground. “Who do you think washed and tended you when you were feverish and out of your head? I’ve seen you wearing far less.”

  Sarah stifled a gasp. She’d never given a though to what transpired during that time. Now she felt like someone stoked a campfire beneath her skin. Wolf had seen her naked? Had he taken other liberties while she suffered from delusions?

  She glared at him while buttoning her shirt. “A gentleman would never have blurted out such personal information.”

  Wolf stretched out on his bedroll, lying on his side, his arm propping his head. “Would you rather I’d let you burn with fever? If I hadn’t bathed you with cool water, you might’ve died. I guess I didn’t figure it was practical to douse you through your clothes.”

  She clenched her hands on her hips. “I appreciate that you saved my life. It’s…well… I’ve just never undressed in front of anyone else—at least not since I’ve been grown. I realize it doesn’t bother you to run around half-naked, but you and I come from different places. My mother taught me I should only share my body once I married. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going back to the stream and wash this.” She snatched up her dirty shirt, flung it over her shoulder, and huffed out of camp.

  Different worlds! She’d hit the nail on the head. Wolf rolled onto his back and stared up at a lone patch of blue visible through the leaves, and sighed. He’d known for a long time how unlike he and Sarah were, but until today he wasn’t certain that she did. Maybe he had mistaken her gratitude for kindness and been blinded by it, but not any more. Her blazing stare left him little doubt she didn’t appreciate the fact that he’d undressed her.

  What else could he have done? He learned from the Sioux that showing one’s body was nothing to be ashamed of, rather something to adorn with paint, decorate with beads, and mark with scars of courage. Communal bathing came as natural as breathing. He hadn’t given a second thought to removing her clothing and washing her. His lips curved into a smile at the memory, as he admitted that what he saw was pleasant to the eye, but looking was all he did.

  Sarah returned and, standing on tiptoes, hung her wet shirt from the lowest tree branch in camp, then turned to face him. “I’m sorry I got so upset. I’m fine now, and I really do appreciate the fact that you saved my life. I was embarrassed, that’s all.”

  He rose to a sitting position. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I never would have said anything if you hadn’t made such a fuss about me seeing you in your….”

  “Forget it. How about if I get out the food the good nuns packed for us and we’ll have an early supper?”

  “Great, I’m hungry.” His heart quickened at her smile. She was without a doubt the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and the more time he spent with her, the harder it was for him to ignore the attraction. The biscuit and bacon she handed him couldn’t silence the gnawing hunger inside him, but he ate, wishing for a miracle to bridge the difference between him and Sarah. He swallowed any hope of that happening along with a bite of bread.

  * * *

  Wolf stared again through the leafy canopy overhead, counting the stars in the heavens and listening to the nighttime serenade of crickets and bullfrogs. Sarah’s soft snores added to the music. He wished he could drift off and find peace in slumber, but his thoughts dwelled on how to say goodbye to her when they reached Independence. There was no other way to end his misery. He couldn’t be content to have her as a casual friend, and his kind of life wasn’t the type you asked someone to share. If he had any idea how attached he’d become to her, he never would have offered to bring her along. What he wanted more than anything else lay just a few feet away but she may as well have been on the bright yellow moon above.

  The land where he planned to build his house was on the outskirts of town. Once he set Sarah up in the boarding house, he’d make himself scarce and try to forget she existed. He muffled a chuckle. How could he lie to himself like that? Trying to pretend she didn’t exist would be like forgetting to breath. As much as he hated to admit it, he was in love with her. She couldn’t know—not ever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sarah rolled over and stretched. She’d been so exhausted she’d slept through the night with no concern for the hardness of the ground. Wolf was already up and had a fire going, and the smell of coffee wafted in the air. Father Brouchard had given them a small stash from his own supply, and Sarah’s mouth watered at the aroma.

  “Good morning,” she called out to Wolf’s crouching form at the fire. “How’d you sleep?”

  He poured himself a steaming cup, replaced the pot, and sank to the ground, cross-legged. “Fine, until I rolled over. I think I have some bruises inside that’ll take a lot longer to heal.”

  Sarah kicked her blanket off, sat up and combed her fingers through her snarled locks. “Why didn’t you tell me about your other injuries?”

  “There was no need to worry you. It isn’t the first time I‘ve been beaten and probably won’t be the last.”

  She shook her head and frowned. “How can you be so casual about it? They could have killed you.” Her voice rose in anger without willing it.

  “But they didn’t.” He put his cup down, poured a second one and stretched to hand it to her.

  The freshly brewed coffee stirred memories of her home and a father who loved his morning drink. She’d already lost everyone in her life, and trembled at the thought of adding Wolf to the list. She set the cup down and caught his gaze. “I can’t understand the army’s reason for mistreating you. If people knew you like I do, they’d realize what a good person you are. Have you really contended with things like this your whole life?”

  He looked skyward, as if searching for an answer. “For as long as I can recollect. It wasn’t bad when both my parents were alive and we traveled from town to town. Then, we didn’t stay in one place long enough for hatred to become contagious. But, once I took a Sioux name and struck out on my own, things got worse.”

  “Then why did you?”

  Serious eyes pierced hers. “Because it was time for me to leave! I needed to find my own place in life, but I’m still proud of my mother’s people. I share their blood, too.”

  His claim of devotion touched Sarah’s heart, but raised another question. “But by your own admission, they didn’t treat you any better than the whites. Why?”

  He released a pent up breath. “I can only guess that ties between the red and white men are so strained, no one is willing to look past the part of me they hate. Sometimes I think it would have been best if I’d never been born.”

  Sarah sipped from her steaming cup and
pretended not to notice when he wiped away his eyes. How horrible for him to never really feel at home anywhere. Surely, he must have some family ties.

  Provoked by niggling curiosity, she leaned in closer. “I hope I’m not getting too personal, but you mentioned your father, Charles Elder, was white. Grey Wolf is the name given you after your vision quest, so what were you called before that?”

  “I was named after my grandfather, Nathaniel Elder, but when I joined the Sioux tribe, I left that part of me behind. My father was gone, and my mother reclaimed her place in the Indian nation. I had little choice but to learn to live among the people.”

  “Nathaniel is nice.” She played his whole name in her mind, attaching a ‘Mrs.’ to the beginning. Then with a quick shake of her head, she scattered the silly schoolgirl notion.

  “They called me Nate, but I haven’t answered to that in a very long time. I prefer Wolf because it’s who I am.”

  He was right. Wolf suited him better. He possessed the same stealth and heightened senses as his namesake. Roaming free, with no encumbrances—there was no room in his life for her, and she was foolish to believe differently—to hope. His kiss haunted her, but had been nothing more than physical desire. He was a man, after all. She had to protect her heart at all costs.

  Unable to look upon his handsome face without lusty thoughts, she began folding her bedding. “We’d best get going.”

  * * *

  They rode alongside one another, the synchronized clip-clop of hooves the only sound for the longest time. Sarah, normally chattering away, had been silent since they broke camp. Wolf studied her profile as she stared into the distance. “Did I do something to make you angry?”

  Her head snapped around. “No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve been unusually quiet.”

  She heaved a sigh. “I ask too many questions sometimes. My mother always told me I was too nosy. I thought perhaps you might like a break from my constant inquisitions.”

  “I don’t mind, really. It’s only natural to be curious, especially when we’ve spent so much time together.”

  Relief softened her face. “Truly? I don’t mean to pry, you know.”

  “I didn’t consider that you were. Is there anything else you want to ask about my past? I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Has there ever been…well…a special person of the female persuasion in your life?”

  She wanted to bite her tongue off for letting such a personal question spill out without thinking. Besides being nosy, she was also impetuous, and that had caused her trouble before—with Silas McCann. His ridiculous intimation that marriage was the only way to salvage her homestead got her dander up. She’d made no bones about telling the repulsive jackass just what she’d thought of him and his underhanded proposal. The shocked look on his face remained etched in her mind. And even though, in the end, he won—foreclosing on her father’s loan and taking back the land and house—given the option, she’d do the same thing all over again. She’d rather sleep outside in a tempest than share the banker’s bed.

  Sarah watched Wolf from the corner of her eye. Her question evidently caught him off guard, and he fidgeted, adjusting his position on Scout’s back and splaying his fingers through the mare’s mane. He sputtered out a nervous cough. “A special female? No, not really. I was fond of one once. Dancing Doe was her name, but we were very young. She died of the same fever that took my mother.”

  Sarah chewed her bottom lip, listening intently. She felt ridiculously jealous.

  “I’ve never been in a position, “he continued, “to ask someone to share my life. I’ve drifted around so much, and you saw where I took shelter when I needed it. You can’t rightly ask a woman to share a cave, can you now?”

  Remembering the low ceiling and sandy floor of his special place, she chuckled. “I guess not. I prefer somewhere that allows me to stand up straight.”

  Her body grew tired from the continual plopping of her bottom against the saddle, but his statement about moving around piqued her interest. “You said you wanted to raise cattle. Don’t you have to stay put to do that?”

  “That’s the plan. If everything works out, I hope to build a ranch on the land I told you about. It’ll take some time, but I’ve got more of that than money. I’m going to be busy, so I won’t have time for courting and all that nonsense.”

  Sarah stiffened in the saddle. He may as well have slapped her in the face with his truthfulness. But at least she knew how he felt. He had no romantic interest in her. Why did her stomach feel like someone slammed a fist into it?

  She stifled a sigh. No matter how hard, she’d stop fawning over him. There was no future in falling for a man who couldn’t see love right in front of his face. She pushed words through a lump in her throat. “You’re absolutely right. Why waste time on silly romantic notions?”

  She agreed far too easily. Evidently his kiss hadn’t meant anything. Maybe it was for the best that they part company. Still, being next to her every day and night and not acting on his feelings hurt like hell. Looking into those beautiful eyes tempted him to throw caution to the wind and beg her to help him build his dream, but what if things didn’t work out with the bank loan? He’d have nothing more than his disappointing life to offer her. The last thing she needed was to witness any more hatred and hurt. Yep, separation was the answer. He’d have to remain strong—hold her at arm’s length and ignore what his heart wanted.

  “Wolf?” She stretched her foot across and nudged him. “You drifted off. I asked if we could stop. I need to relieve myself.”

  “Sorry. I was just thinking about my land,” he lied. He needed relief too, but not in the way she did at the moment.

  * * *

  “There it is.” Wolf pointed toward dots on the horizon, a big smile on his face.

  “You mean it?” Sarah’s heart pounded with excitement. “We’re finally here?” Her body ached for a respite from days of riding. They had mutually decided to pick up the pace, and now she was happy they had.

  “Yep, that’s Independence. Your new home.”

  She let loose a contented sigh. “It’s funny to be so happy to come back to where I started my journey. I never expected when I left for California that this would end up being my final destination. I can‘t wait to get off this horse…and stay off.”

  Wolf urged Scout to a trot and Sarah nudged Star to keep up. The specks grew before her eyes, as structures, storefronts, horse-drawn carriages and buckboards came into view. The rutted trail widened into the area where Mr. Simms had gathered the wagons, then narrowed again to form the main street of Independence. A banner hung overhead, announcing a picnic and horse race on the third Saturday of the month. Sarah misted at the memory of her lost friends, but welcomed the excitement of her trail’s end.

  She and Wolf rode into town side-by-side. People stopped on the elevated wooden walkways and stared at them. Two women whispered behind gloved hands, then cast a disapproving look at Sarah. She squirmed in the saddle, reaching up to push a fallen tress of hair back up under her hat, envying the fashionable garb of the gossiping pair. With less than ten dollars in her valise, it would take quite a while for her to achieve a look like that. She never figured on longing for a dress and feminine trappings.

  “Rotten half-breed,” a man called out from the swinging doors of the saloon. A bottle shattered in the street just ahead. Star shied away and reared back while Sarah hung on for dear life. Faces peered out from doorways and pressed against windows, not a friendly one among them.

  “We don’t need your kind here. Take your whore and leave.”A portly man teetered on the sidewalk’s edge, waving his fist in the air.

  Sarah’s stomach knotted. “What do we do?”

  Wolf’s gaze remained fixed straight ahead. “Just keep riding and ignore them.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ignore them?”

  He glanced at her, his chin held high. “Words can’t hurt you. I l
earned that a long time ago. I’m used to this. It happens every time I come to town. If I don’t engage in their games, they usually leave me alone.” He flashed an apologetic look at her. “I should have let you ride in alone. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Sarah squared her shoulders and followed Wolf’s example. She sat taller in the saddle, her head high and her eyes forward. “They should be apologizing to you. You’ve done nothing wrong. They’re just lucky my pistol is packed away.”

  Wolf chuckled. “Like you could ever shoot anyone.”

  He’d no sooner spoken than gunfire rang out. Bullets struck the dry street in front of their horses, sending pellets of dirt splattering into the air. Sarah’s breath seized as Wolf reached over, grabbed her reins, and urged Scout into a run. Star followed behind while Sarah gasped in fear and hung tight to the saddle horn. Why was someone taking pot shots at them?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wolf and Sarah rounded a corner onto a side street. The gunfire ceased. Sarah’s pulse pounded and her hands trembled. Wolf slowed their mounts to a walk and handed Sarah’s reins back to her. “Damn drunks and their shenanigans. One of these days they’re gonna kill someone.”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open; she was speechless for a moment. “Are you telling me that someone shot at us to amuse themselves?”