Grace and the Guiltless

by Erin Johnson

  And yet instead of the decision bringing her joy, Grace swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. It would be painful to leave the village . . . and especially Joe. But she had a mission, and Bullet was well enough to go now.

  When Grace arrived back at camp, she was surprised to hear that Cheis had called her to his kuugh’a. Did he know of her plans already? Though she was eager to begin preparations for her departure, she couldn’t deny his request.

  Grace ducked inside, surprised to see how much it resembled his previous home. Baskets lined the same walls. Even the strips of meat hung from the ceiling. It seemed he had replaced everything that had burned in the fire. But new lines of sadness and pain were etched around his mouth and eyes; he had aged greatly in the past two days. Grace’s heart went out to him. She, too, knew that agony.

  Sequoyah and Joe were seated beside the fire. So were several of the men who met for council meetings.

  Cheis nodded toward Grace. “My words are not always right. Joe may need to say what I cannot.” He spoke haltingly. “Yesterday you were brave. Very brave. You fought for our people; you saved our children. Words are not enough to thank you.” He paused, looking at her closely, then motioned to the deerskin skullcap that fitted over his scalp with several feathers on the top. “We will not give you a warrior’s headdress. But we will honor you with this.”

  He brought out a beaded headband and tied it around Grace’s forehead. Then, with Joe translating, Cheis said, “My daughter, you are now flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone. Yesterday you were officially taken into the Ndeh Nation. And today we name you Dyami, meaning ‘Eagle.’ You are one of us.”

  He held up six eagle feathers. “An eagle feather is a sign that you are acknowledged with gratitude, with love, and with ultimate respect. Draw wisdom from the eagle, the master of the sky. It possesses courage and is a messenger from the Great Spirit. You, too, have that courage.”

  Grace choked back tears as Cheis placed the six eagle feathers in the headband, one by one. She was now a part of them, accepted and loved. Leaving was going to be harder than she ever imagined.

  Sequoyah rushed over and hugged Grace, her eyes gleaming with tears. “Now we are sisters.”

  Grace hugged her back, but inside her heart twisted. She had a sister. No one could take her true sister’s place.

  But Abby was dead. Her whole family was dead. She couldn’t risk opening her heart that way to anyone else again.

  Doubt warred with her need to be loved, and confusion clouded her mind.

  All Grace wanted was to run away and hide. She didn’t want to feel any ties to others. Ties only brought pain and heartache — but the harder she fought, it seemed, the tighter she was tied to those around her.

  Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her family and the promise she had made to get revenge. Surely the Ndeh would understand that she couldn’t stay with them. She had helped them take their own revenge yesterday. No matter how close she’d become to all of them, including Joe, she had to go out on her own tomorrow.

  She felt like a fraud, pretending her tears were joyous when her heart was actually breaking.

  But yesterday she had proved herself in battle — and she had learned she could kill.

  No matter what Joe said, she needed to be able to do that at a moment’s notice if she had to. She was ready to take on the Guiltless Gang.

  As soon as she could slip out without seeming ungracious, Grace raced back to the meadow to find Bullet. He came running when she whistled. She patted him and leaned her head against his neck, breathing in the comforting warmth of his familiar scent.

  Maybe she shouldn’t say goodbye at all. Maybe it would be too hard.

  “Grace?”

  She knew it was Joe. The tenderness and understanding in his tone brought fresh tears to her eyes. When she turned, his warm smile almost made her reconsider her decision to leave altogether.

  “I’m so proud of you. Six eagle feathers?” He walked over and touched the headband with one finger. “I said I’d teach you to be a Ndeh warrior, but I never dreamed —” He swallowed hard. “You were unbelievable.”

  “So were you.” Grace looked down. Her throat was clogged with sadness. She struggled to say the words she needed to say — to tell him she was leaving. The words wouldn’t come.

  “What’s the matter?” Joe reached out a finger and tilted her chin up to study her face. But when their gazes met and locked, he sucked in a breath.

  Grace’s heart stuttered to a stop. For one quiet moment they stared deep into each other’s eyes, but then Joe exhaled a little.

  She could feel his breath on her face as he moved closer, his finger still under her chin. She was torn between closing her eyes and keeping them open. At the last minute, she squeezed them shut and waited with breathless anticipation.

  Waiting for the touch of his lips on hers. Waiting, waiting . . .

  But the kiss never came.

  Instead Joe sighed and rested his forehead against hers for a moment and smoothed a hand down the back of her loose, golden hair.

  Grace’s eyelids flew open, and she saw that his gaze was on the ground, his cheeks flushed.

  He released her and backed away, mumbling a quick good-night. Awkward and embarrassed, Grace stammered out a goodbye and stared at his back as he took off down the hill.

  She stood where she was, dazed, hurt, and uncertain. She was bubbling inside when Joe took her in his arms. She had never felt such excitement and anticipation, such an overwhelming, inexplicable feeling . . . and then to have her hopes crushed?

  Grace ran her finger over her lips. What would it feel like to be kissed?

  What would it feel like with Joe?

  If she left tomorrow, she might never know.

  CHAPTER 20

  Alone in her kuugh’a, Grace lay curled under the buffalo skin. She smoothed her hands across it, dreaming of the way Joe had stroked her hair. She ran a finger over her lips again, soft as the caress of a butterfly. Would this be what it felt like to have Joe’s lips touch hers? Grace drifted off to sleep with thoughts of him holding her close.

  The next morning when Grace got up, the first person she saw was Joe. He glanced at her but didn’t say a word. He just turned and headed down to the stream.

  Grace’s cheeks burned. Maybe he’d realized last night that kissing her would be a big mistake. After all, he had pulled away so quickly, and this morning he couldn’t turn his back on her quickly enough.

  It seemed as if their easy companionship was gone, and instead, awkwardness was driving a wedge between them. Part of Grace wished none of that had ever happened last night, so they could go back to their easy, joking relationship. But the other part of her desperately wanted to know what that kiss would have been like.

  It doesn’t matter, she told herself. She had decided. Today was her last day there.

  But she couldn’t help staring at Joe’s retreating figure, admiring the muscles rippling in his back, his confident stance, his —

  “Grace?” Sequoyah’s soft voice behind her made her jump.

  Grace turned around quickly. “You scared me!” She tried to still the rapid beating of her heart.

  Sequoyah looked apologetic. “Oh, I am much sorry.” Then her look of sorrow turned to a look of curiosity. “You and Joe did not talk?” she asked, glancing toward the direction he had gone.

  Grace frowned. She didn’t want to get into a conversation about Joe. She didn’t want to think about him — she needed to concentrate on preparing for her journey away from here.

  Away from him.

  But before she could say a word, Sequoyah clutched her arm. “Do not fight with Joe. He’s a good man.”

  That got Grace right in the gut.

  “We aren’t fighting. We’re —” But Grace had no words to describe the awkwardness that had come be
tween them.

  Sequoyah laughed. “You not fight. You want to . . . kiss?”

  “Absolutely not.” Grace made her words as firm as her resolve not to think of Joe again with longing.

  But Sequoyah’s expression became dreamy. “I want to kiss Dahana.” She sighed deeply. “I dream of what it will feel like. My friend Sky say it is like floating in the clouds.”

  When Grace didn’t respond, she said, “Maybe you know this feeling already?”

  “No!” Grace burst out, but then her voice softened. “I . . . I wish I did.”

  Then before she knew what was happening, the story of last night and her pain flowed out.

  Sequoyah listened intently. Perhaps she only understood half of what Grace was saying, because the words tumbled over themselves in her haste to get them out of her mind. She poured out her frustration and her anger, and the uncertainty and humiliation of what had happened.

  “Tell Joe,” Sequoyah suggested. “You could kiss him.”

  Grace shook her head. “I could never do that.”

  “It is not good to hold in feelings. Not anger. Not love.” She nodded toward a shriveled plant. “You hold bad feelings in here.” Sequoyah patted her chest. “That is what happens to you.”

  Grace nodded, but she knew she could never tell Joe her real feelings. It would be hard enough to leave Sequoyah and the others who had become such an important part of her life. Parting with Joe would be even more painful now.

  Grace said a hasty goodbye to Sequoyah, using the excuse that she needed to care for Bullet. She hurried uphill to where the horses grazed, and Bullet galloped toward her before she could even pucker her lips to whistle. His gait looked even better today. She only wished that her inner wounds healed as rapidly.

  “Today’s the day,” she whispered as she stroked Bullet’s neck and combed her fingers through his mane. She could leave now, grab her things and go — but something held her back.

  In spite of everything, she was reluctant to go without seeing Joe one last time. He was only going to the stream to wash up, so she knew he’d be back shortly.

  She wished she had something to give him, something he would remember her by. And whatever it took, someday she would pay him back for all his kindness — for the pouch of silver, for saving her life, and for teaching her to shoot, and track, and use Ndeh weapons.

  She owed him so much.

  Sequoyah deserved a gift as well. But Grace had nothing to give.

  With a heavy heart, Grace headed back to her kuugh’a to pack her belongings and wait for Joe, but just as she did, Sequoyah rushed toward her.

  “There you are. My father wants to speak to you. Joe is with him, but he wants you too.”

  Grace sighed but followed Sequoyah to her father’s kuugh’a and ducked inside. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the semi-darkness. Sequoyah had draped buffalo hides over the exterior of the kuugh’a, which did not allow much sunlight to penetrate the grass walls. Grace could barely make out Joe’s form on the other side of the fire.

  She was puzzled. Cheis had already given her the headdress . . . surely they couldn’t have any more honors.

  “Welcome, Dyami,” Cheis said, nodding to her. “I have a favor to ask. We have lost so much in the fire . . .”

  He bowed his head and remained silent for a moment.

  Grace glanced at Joe, whose head was also bowed. Was he trying to avoid looking at her?

  At last Cheis looked up, and his gaze fell first on Joe, then Grace. “We need help,” he began. He peered at them anxiously as if to gauge their reaction.

  Joe didn’t hesitate. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

  “We need supplies,” Cheis said. “But we cannot ride into town.”

  “The soldiers will ambush you.” Joe was trying to hide the anger in his tone.

  “This is true. So I ask that you two go. They will not stop you.”

  Grace opened her mouth to protest, frustrated that this would delay her even more, but a frown from Joe stopped her. She sat in sullen silence to hear Cheis out, but she didn’t see why Joe couldn’t go on his own. They didn’t need her, did they? Though a part of her still couldn’t help wanting to assist them one last time.

  Perhaps that could be her gift.

  Cheis glanced again from one to the other as though he knew something. “It will take two of you to carry all that we need,” he said pointedly.

  Joe jumped to his feet. “We will get ready.”

  Grace stood more reluctantly. She didn’t want to ride with Joe — not with the way things were between them. She didn’t want to take off in the opposite direction of the Guiltless Gang. And most of all, she didn’t want to go back to Tombstone. The place that reminded her of the worst day of her life. The place where nobody wanted to help her. Where the sheriff wanted to lock her up and where people wanted to shoot Bullet.

  But how could she say no to Cheis’s request? The Ndeh had taken her in, fed her, clothed her, given her shelter, helped her heal. She couldn’t refuse, no matter how difficult it was for her.

  As she stepped outside into the sunlight, Grace blew out an exasperated breath, remembering how long it had taken her to get up the mountain from Tombstone. She dreaded the long trek there and back. But as Joe emerged, the look of disappointment he shot at her made her feel guilty.

  He shook his head. “After all the Ndeh have done for you, you can’t even give them one day of your time?”

  “One day?” Grace exclaimed. “We’ll be gone for days, Joe.”

  “A half-day’s ride at most,” he muttered. “We’ll be back by nightfall.”

  Was he joking? “It took me more than a week to get here.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Joe’s voice was gruff. “You didn’t know much about surviving in the wilderness then. You probably went around in circles.”

  Maybe she had, but there was no need for him to sound so dismissive.

  “I’ll go saddle Bullet.” Grace stalked off.

  A short while later, the two of them set off down the mountain, Joe in the lead. Reluctantly, Grace reined Bullet in behind Ash. After they made it through the steep, narrow passes, Joe slowed a bit and kept pace beside her.

  Several times he looked as if he were going to speak, but then he snapped his mouth shut into a thin line, his lips pressed together as if holding back words that wanted to escape. The ride turned into pounding hooves, puffs of dust, relentless heat, and even more relentless silence.

  Finally, Joe sighed hard. His brow furrowed, and his lips twisted.

  His eyes told her that maybe, just maybe, he was as mixed up as she was. That she wasn’t just imagining something between them. Strange as it seemed, that idea sparked a little hope in her heart.

  “Grace,” he said at last, his voice husky. “I . . . I’m sorry about last night.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” Grace tried to make her words sound flippant, neutral.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She swallowed. “Hurt me?”

  “Yes, it’s just that . . . I, well —” His next words came out in such a rush that Grace could barely make sense of them. “I’m mixed up right now. I mean, I have these feelings when I’m around you that I don’t know how to express. I don’t know what to do with them. I just — whenever I’m with you . . .” He trailed off, seeming not to know what else to say.

  Grace’s heart leaped.

  So he wasn’t as indifferent as he had seemed this morning.

  But the thrill she felt bursting in her chest soon shrank. She couldn’t encourage him. If they got too close, she would never be able to leave.

  Hesitantly, she said, “I’m mixed up too. I only wanted to be friends, but things have changed. But I . . . I don’t want things to be strained between us.” She sighed. “I just wish we could go back to the way thing
s were before.”

  Joe looked hurt, but he seemed to be trying to conceal it. “Oh. Well, I’ll be honest,” he confessed. “I’ve had these feelings for a while. I’ve tried to hide them, but I guess that isn’t working.”

  “Can’t we . . . can’t we just stay friends?” Grace asked hopefully.

  She could hardly believe she was saying it. Deep down she knew that she didn’t want to just be friends.

  Joe nodded. “Maybe that would be best.”

  Now his rapid response hurt Grace’s feelings. She had been hoping he would protest, or . . .

  Or what?

  * * *

  The closer they got to Tombstone, the more nervous Grace became. Her jaw clenched, and she clutched the reins more tightly.

  “Joe?” Grace slowed Bullet. “I’m worried about going back into town.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry. No one will recognize you. You look so different cleaned up.”

  Grace bristled. “I couldn’t help the way I looked then. I’d just —” She swallowed hard.

  Joe looked over at her, and his face fell. “I didn’t mean it that way.” A flush crept up Joe’s neck and splashed across his cheeks. “I was just trying to say, um, that you look good now.”

  That was a compliment. Now it was Grace’s turn to be embarrassed. “Thank you,” she mumbled. They rode in silence for a few minutes, avoiding each other’s eyes. Finally, Grace broke the silence. “Joe?”

  “Yeah?” He kept his gaze on the trail in front of them.

  Grace had to know. “Did you mean what you said? About me looking so different that no will recognize me in town?”

  “Yes. You’ve . . . you’ve really changed, Grace. Inside and out.”

  Grace smiled at him. “But they’ll recognize Bullet.”

  “Can’t miss such a good-looking palomino, that’s for sure.”

  “There’s something I didn’t tell you,” she said. “Something that happened after you left town that day.”