by Linda Ladd
Stone Kincaid stared at her for a moment, then gave a low laugh. "Yeah, the same thing was revealed to me a few nights back."
Very disturbed, Windsor drew her brows into a V-shaped frown. "But what does one do when confronted with such a problem?"
Stone hunched a shoulder, but his eyes glinted in a way that made Windsor feel he wanted to laugh again. "Well, in my case, I usually put my body atop the one I desire."
"What if one cannot do that?"
"Then one is in a helluva fix."
Dismayed, Windsor stared wordlessly at him. "The Old One taught us to guard against such desires of the flesh. He said that carnal acts would bring only suffering and pain. True disciples must be celibate and disregard earthly desires to achieve ultimate peace within one's self. It is the way to enlightenment."
"Then I seriously doubt I'll ever reach enlightenment," Stone answered, transferring his gaze out over the lake. He assumed a stance with his feet braced apart, thumbs caught behind the black leather of his gun belt. Windsor thought of the vision she'd had, thought of Stone Kincaid writhing atop her, naked, their limbs entwined. Her swallow went down dry and hard, and she tried vainly to banish the disturbing mental image.
"Sun-On-Wings sent me up here," Stone said a moment later, turning back to face her.
"Sun-On-Wings? Why did he not come himself?"
Stone hesitated. "I know you probably didn't realize what was happening earlier, but when you took the ponies from Buffalo Man, you accepted Sun-On-Wings as your husband."
Windsor's eyes widened. "But that cannot be. If I am to become a true disciple of the Dragonfire, I can never marry. It is forbidden."
"Disciple of the Dragonfire? What's that?"
Windsor looked down, astonished that she had let slip mention of the Dragonfire. Never before had she spoken of her temple's secret warrior sect aloud, not even the name! Oh, what was happening to her? Stone Kincaid made her say and do strange, unnatural things.
"I can say no more," she answered quickly.
Stone Kincaid didn't press her. "Then I suggest you let the kid know how you feel as soon as you can, or he'll end up being humiliated in front of his whole tribe."
"I will tell him the truth, and he will understand."
"He's waiting for you down by the lake. He wanted me to find out when you would be coming to his lodge to be his woman."
Stone's gaze captured hers again, holding her eyes against her will, but he said nothing else. Windsor was glad when he turned and strode away. Men made things difficult for women. She was finding that out more and more. The Old One had been right to teach her to avoid such temptations. She would have to explain such wisdom to Sun-On-Wings so that he would accept the fact that she could not be his woman, or any other man's.
Sun-On-Wings retraced his steps on the trail beside the lake. What was taking Arrow-Parts-Hair so long? He was so eager to know if Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman would share his lodge when Grandfather Sun slept behind the mountains that he was beginning to feel sick inside his stomach. The mere idea of taking her down upon his sleeping mat made his heart thud until it hurt his chest. Anxious to see her again, he shielded his eyes from the bright sun and studied the slope that rose to where she liked to sit above the lake.
Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman was coming swiftly toward him. As always when she approached, Sun-On-Wings' tongue felt thick and twisted up like a lariat of horsehair. At such times no words welled inside his throat to leave his mouth. He strove for the appropriate greeting when she stopped in front of him. But all he could think of was how beautiful she was. How white her skin, how soft and gold her hair, like the bright leaves of the aspen in the Moon of the Falling Leaves. All he wanted was to reach out and touch her, but he did not dare.
"I am honored that you wish me to be your woman, Sun-On-Wings."
At her initial statement, Sun-On-Wings' hopes soared heavenward like the red eagle for which he was named, but as she continued, his spirit plummeted back to earth as if pierced by a Pawnee arrow.
"But I cannot marry. I have pledged myself to seek the truth and the way of enlightenment. I must return to my home at the Temple of the Blue Mountain, where I can attain true peace and harmony."
"But can you not do such a thing here among the Little Ones?" Sun-On-Wings asked, swallowing back his disappointment. "Our mountains are high enough to reach into the heavens. Here you will be close to Wah-Kon-Dah."
"Your land is beautiful. I have been happy here in your village, but I must leave when Stone Kincaid's body has healed and he is able to travel."
"I will go with you," Sun-On-Wings decided on impulse, suddenly finding the idea very appealing. "I will go to your faraway land called China, where I, too, will find peace and harmony."
Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman smiled. She has to be a spirit, Sun-On-Wings thought, struck dumb with awe. No mortal human could be so beautiful and so wise.
"Before I return to my temple, I must travel far with Stone Kincaid. We seek a man of evil—a man who has killed ones beloved to us. When he is punished, then I can journey across the great ocean and submit to my destiny."
"I am a brave warrior, and the best in the tribe with my bow. I can help you find this evil one."
"No. You belong here in your mountains with your own people. One day you will be a great chief of the Little Ones. White-Spotted-Wolf has seen it in his dream sleep. He told me."
"I would rather be with you," Sun-On-Wings muttered, his chest tight with a feeling of loss.
"You will care for another someday. I am not the woman of your destiny. But I will always remember you, and our contest with the bows."
Smiling, she placed her palms together as Sun-On-Wings had seen her do so often since she had come into his life; then she bent respectfully at the waist. Sun-On-Wings returned her bow in the same way, but as he watched her walk away with her silent, graceful tread, his heart was heavy with loneliness.
8
Crouched behind Windsor's lodge in the darkness, Stone shivered and pulled his buffalo robe tighter around him. The temperature had plummeted since nightfall, complicating his decision to leave while the Indians slept. During the month or more they had spent at the Osage camp, he had secreted enough food and supplies for the trek home. Now was the time; all he had to do was go.
Huddling deeper beneath the furs, Stone grimaced as the high notes of Sun-On-Wings' courting flute filtered out to him from inside the lodge. The damn kid was serenading Windsor again, and as much as Stone didn't want to admit it, he knew exactly why he had waited so long to leave. He cursed his own weakness.
Windsor Richmond was the reason, dammit. Leaving her behind did not set well with him. After all, she had saved his neck. And he liked her—even if he did think she was the weirdest person he had ever met.
Furious at himself for the guilt that continued to prick his conscience, he stood up and tried valiantly to shake off his nagging reluctance to strike out without her. She would be all right. She could take care of herself; she had certainly proved that more than once.
His face molded in determined lines, he slung his heavy hide-wrapped bundle over his good shoulder and, careful to edge the perimeter of the village, crept silently toward the trees where he had hidden a pony. There was no moon, which helped conceal his furtive flight, and the night was so cold and still that he could hear wolves howling, their melancholy songs echoing eerily far across the lake.
Within minutes he came upon the spot where he had tethered the horse early that morning while the camp was busy performing the Dawn Chant. He slung his supplies over the mare's back, then hesitated, glancing out across the quiet fields toward Windsor's hut. She'll be all right, he told himself firmly. The Osage treated her like a queen, didn't they? Nobody was going to hurt her. She would be in far more danger if she went after Clan with him, as she wanted to do. Stone didn't intend to see her get hurt. Besides that, she had a way of causing too damn much trouble for him.
Swinging up onto the woven blank
et that acted as a saddle, he touched his heels to the mare's flanks and headed up the narrow forested trail that would take him out of the valley. I'm doing the right thing, he told himself, still struggling with his conscience. If Windsor wanted to leave the Osage, she would. He had to stop worrying about her and concentrate on his own problems.
Two days later, Stone was still reproaching himself for leaving Windsor behind. What if she did something foolhardy again, such as following him on her own? Even the survival skills she possessed wouldn't be enough to save her in the dead of winter. And the weather was worsening each day. He had waited much too long to leave. The snow was already deep at the higher elevations, and judging by the threatening sky, if he didn't reach Silverville soon, he might not make it at all. He urged his horse to a faster gait.
As he had feared, snow began to fall by late afternoon. Sporadic flakes swirled on gusts of wind, then gradually increased until the mountains around him were hidden by a white curtain that concealed the landmarks he needed to guide his way to the old mining town. Finally, when visibility was practically nil, he began to search the cedar-spiked slopes for some kind of temporary shelter. He pushed on, the snow falling harder, and was relieved when he glimpsed several caves above him on the side of a rocky slope.
As far as he could tell, the only way to reach them was straight up a steep hill studded with tall evergreen trees. The ascent looked rocky and as slick as frozen cobblestones. But he didn't have a choice. Guiding the mare upward, he prayed she wouldn't lose her footing.
Stone released a heavy sigh of relief when the mare lurched up the last few feet to the level stretch of ground in front of the caves. There were three caverns; one was large, with a smaller one on either side. Eager to get a fire started, he dismounted and pulled his horse toward the nearest opening. His hands felt frozen; his face was red and chapped despite the blanket he had wrapped around his nose and mouth.
The bite of the wind lessened once he reached the shelter, and he hobbled his horse, unloading her and wiping her down, then went outside again to gather kindling for a fire. Wood was plentiful, and he gathered an armload, then drew to a standstill when he glimpsed a couple of Indian ponies on the ground below, moving slowly against the driving snow.
Ducking down, he inched backward into the cave, not taking his eyes off the two riders. He had been lucky so far—he'd not seen any war parties or hunting bands. His good fortune seemed to be holding out, because the swift-falling snow had already obliterated the hoofprints of his horse.
"Damn," he muttered beneath his breath as one of the Indians pointed up toward the caves. He backed farther into the darkness. If the two braves had decided to wait out the storm in the caves, he was in trouble. Unless they were friendly—and he sure as hell couldn't count on that.
Pressing back out of sight, he drew his Colt and held it up against his shoulder, cocked and ready to fire. He didn't have long to wait. Within five minutes, the first heavily cloaked rider appeared, the second one a few yards behind him. Luckily, they chose to take shelter in the big cave, which lay about fifteen feet from Stone's position. Still gripped with tension, Stone watched the first man nudge his horse toward the mouth of the cave; then he turned his gaze to the other horse now cresting the slope. Stone's jaw dropped, his eyes riveted on the tiny black-and-white monkey clinging to the rider's back.
"Dammit, Windsor," he swore furiously beneath his breath. He stepped from his hiding place, certain now that the first rider was Sun-On-Wings.
"Windsor!" he yelled. "What the hell are you doing following me?" His words whipped toward her, tossed about on the howling wind.
Startled, she whirled to face him, nearly unseating Jun-li from her shoulder, but before she could respond, a great growling roar split the air. Horrified, Stone watched a huge grizzly bear plunge out of the cave toward Sun-On-Wings. The immense animal rose on its hind legs and attacked the boy's mount, its six-inch claws slashing downward to open long, bloody gashes in the horse's neck.
Seriously wounded, Sun-On-Wings' mare brayed and fell backward, flailing her hooves in panic. Stone ran forward as the terrified horse backed into Windsor's mount, sending both animals and riders reeling off the ledge and somersaulting down the steep incline.
Still enraged at the invasion of his den, his angry bellows echoing out over the snow-muffled valley, the grizzly went after his victims, plunging down the incline, half loping, half sliding on his hind-quarters.
Stone reached the edge of the cliff and tried to take aim, but the trees and blowing snow blocked his gunsight. He scrambled down the hill after them, slipping, half falling, finally managing to stop his out-of-control descent by grabbing onto a tree branch with his free hand.
A few feet below him, Windsor's horse was galloping away, but Sun-On-Wings' mare lay struggling weakly on her back, screaming in agony as the angry bear clawed open her belly. The boy lay motionless on the ground behind the grizzly. As the bear turned on the Indian, slapping at him with sharp, blood-drenched claws, Stone was appalled to see Windsor scramble up from where she had landed, waving her arms and shouting in a suicidal attempt to distract the bear from her friend.
"Windsor, get back!" Stone cried, but his warning came too late. The bear veered away from Sun-On-Wings and after Windsor. She was limping heavily, and the grizzly caught her within moments, swinging one gigantic paw against her back and sending her sprawling forward.
Stone opened fire, pumping six bullets in rapid succession into the bear's back. The grizzly staggered but did not fall. Stone halted as the great gray beast turned on him; then he began to back away as he pulled his other revolver from his holster.
Growling in pain and rage, the wounded animal loped toward him. Stone fired again, once, twice, three times, but the grizzly kept coming. Dropping to one knee, Stone braced his arm and aimed at the beast's head. He pulled the trigger.
The slug hit, ripping through the lower jaw, but still the bruin came at him. When the bear was two yards away, Stone fired yet again. This time the lead ball hit true, smashing into the bear's brain and stopping him in his tracks. The animal fell forward heavily, and Stone scrambled out of the way, emptying his cylinder in the writhing carcass. Panting and gasping with delayed reaction, Stone sank to his knees, staring at the huge, bloody creature, realizing just how close he'd come to being mauled to a gory pulp.
Still shaky, he got to his feet and saw that Sun-On-Wings had come to and was sitting up, groggily rubbing the back of his head. But Windsor lay still, facedown in the snow. Jun-li was screaming shrilly and pulling at her clothing, and Stone's heart turned as icy as the ground beneath his feet. Then he was running to her, rolling her over, wiping the snow off her face. Frantically, he searched her body for blood, then heaved a sigh of relief when he heard her moan.
"Damn you, Windsor," he whispered. He pulled her gently into his arms and carried her back up toward the cave, shouting for Sun-On-Wings to follow.
"Windsor? Can you hear me?"
She opened her eyes and found Stone Kincaid's face very close above hers. She struggled to sit up, but his hand on her shoulder held her down.
"Better not move so fast or you'll be sorry. You have a bump as big as a goose egg on the side of your head."
Windsor obeyed, raising her hand to touch the spot above her temple. She winced as her fingers found the gigantic lump; then she suddenly remembered her friend's peril.
"Where is Sun-On-Wings?"
"Sun-On-Wings here," came the boy's voice.
Battling the pain slivering through her skull, she turned her head and found the Osage youth sitting near the fire. A blood-soaked white cloth was wrapped around his forehead, and his face was marked up with scratches. Makeshift bandages covered the long, shallow gouges across his naked chest.
"Are you all right?" she asked him. Sun-On-Wings nodded, but it was Stone Kincaid who answered.
"If you ask me, both of you are damn lucky to be alive."
His voice was more like a growl, and she
knew he was angry from the way his dark brows were drawn together and his abrupt movements as he fed sticks into the fire. She shifted slightly, becoming aware of the pain throbbing in her ankle from where it had been pinned beneath her horse's leg when they had landed at the base of the cliff.
"You saved our lives, Stone Kincaid. We are grateful to you."
Stone gave her a sour look. "Frankly, I'm getting a little sick and tired of risking my life to save your neck. One of these days I'm not going to be around when you get yourself in trouble. Then what the hell will you do?"
"You will always be there for me, as I will be for you. Destiny has written our names together. You must learn to accept—"
"I don't have to accept a damn thing! Don't you understand, Windsor? You almost got yourself killed today! And the kid, too. If I hadn't picked this place to stop for the night, you'd be dead right now!"
"But I am not dead. And you did stop here. Is that not convincing proof to you that our souls are connected?"
"All that tells me is that you're damn lucky. You should have stayed back at the camp instead of following me. How the devil did you find me so fast anyway? I had at least a day's head start on you."
"One who wishes to hide his footprints should not walk upon the snow," Windsor pointed out sagely.
"Don't give me that. It sure as hell wasn't snowing when I left."
"Trail easy to see," Sun-On-Wings announced, "Jun-li help follow."
"Jun-li?"
"Jun-li watches for me," Windsor explained. "He alerted me when you left the camp, so we followed at once. Where do you journey, Stone Kincaid, that you sneak away in the dark of night?"
"None of your business. Tomorrow I want both of you to turn around and head back to the village. I'm not taking you with me, and I mean it."
"I will not return to the village of the Little Ones," Windsor replied with calm resolution.
"Sun-On-Wings go with Yellow-Haired-Warrior-Woman," the Osage boy added, his face fervent. "Sun-On-Wings go to land of China and be nun."