Depending on the Doctor (Nevada Bounty Book 2) (21 page)

“She’s waiting for us.”

Yellow Hair Woman led us to a lodge large enough to seat most of the camp. Inside, several fire pits burned, heating the space and cooking a meal that made my stomach rumble again, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything substantial for several days.

Bodies filled the room, two and three deep, crowded together in small groups. I scanned the space for Lydia, and almost missed her.

She sat next to Yellow Hair Woman, who was on Four Bears’ right. He had ensconced himself at the head of the table, if there had been a table, with Leaning Bear hunkered on his other side. Directly behind Lydia several other women leaned in her direction, chatting with her and Yellow Hair Woman.

Lydia wore a buckskin dress, with her hair plaited in a pair of braids, each of which left several inches of light brown waves loose at the ends. Her glasses rode low on her nose, and even from the door I noticed her amber eyes glittering in the firelight. Her smile lit up her face in a way I hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing yet. It hinted at what a happy, relaxed Lydia looked like, and I wanted to see that smile more often. More than that, I realized I wanted to be the one to put that smile on her face.

For now, I’d satisfy myself with sitting next to her and sharing in the glow of her happiness.

I picked my way through the people until I stood next to Lydia.

“Hello, sweetness.”

She looked up at me and beamed. “Hello. You look well.”

“I almost didn’t recognize you from across the room. You look so much different.”

Worry clouded her eyes, and her hand went to her hair, fiddling with it. “Is different bad?”

I sank down beside her, grunting at the pain in my side. That I’d put that worry in her eyes troubled me. Taking a lock of her hair between my fingers, I lifted it and rubbed the softness of it over my lips. “You’re a beautiful woman, Lydia. I’ve been wondering what your hair looked like not gathered into that tight bun.” I inhaled, catching a whiff of something floral in her hair.

She blushed that pretty rosy color I liked so much. “And?”

I brushed the lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in close to tell her, “You’re a temptress, sweetness.”

When I pulled back, the look in her eyes made my heart squeeze. She wanted to trust me, but doubt eclipsed her pleasure at the compliment. I wanted to strangle whoever had put that doubt there. I suspected Randall played a role, and my fingers itched to get around his neck. It was one more reason to dislike him.

Four Bears raised his voice and the overall volume fell to a murmur. Yellow Hair Woman translated for us.

“We are gathered here to welcome our guests. Leaning Bear and his warriors found them freezing in a cave and brought them here. He could have left them and been on his way, but he saw that they were lost and injured and made the honorable choice to help them.”

Leaning Bear and several men nearby all sat taller, basking in the attention. In truth, they’d done a brave thing. For any native these days, interaction with whites was a tricky prospect because they were more likely to be killed than be thanked for their trouble. From their perspective, whites had to be worse than a plague of locusts.

“Tell us your story,” Four Bears said.

I looked to Yellow Hair Woman, not sure what he’d meant. “He wants you to tell how you came to be in the cave. Gatherings are a time for sharing stories.”

“May I?” Lydia spoke up beside me.

“By all means,” I said.

By this time, people had begun passing plates and bowls of food to each other. I wasn’t much good with stories, so I was happy to yield the floor, focusing instead on filling my eager belly.

As it turned out, though, Lydia had yet another surprise for me because she was a gifted storyteller. I had no way of knowing how her words translated, but by the rapt attention all around, and the way everyone fell silent to listen, I had to assume our adventures translated well.

Like a master, she used just the right words to capture a person’s character, and she came alive with gestures and expressions, leaning into her descriptions, and embellishing where it improved the story. When she told of the train robbery and how Clyde’s men injured the boy, the listeners grunted and murmured their disgust with him, just as Lydia meant for them to. She told them I saved the boy’s life, which wasn’t entirely accurate, but all eyes turned to me, full of respect. She built up Ernie’s impending death as a test of our courage and mettle, and when Ernie died she downplayed her role in saving our lives, instead making me out as the hero. Appreciative murmurs rippled through the crowd. It didn’t escape my attention that she minimized her role in events. When she told of beating Clyde over the head with a burning log, a wave of enthusiastic laughter rippled through the crowd. In her story, though, her efforts were clumsy and I was the one who saved her, enduring a gunshot in the process, but still managing to rescue us and get us away from the evil fiends.

“When I woke the next morning, Emmett burned with fever and I was afraid for his life. That’s when Leaning Bear and his men showed up, just in time to save us. You know the rest of the story,” she finished.

Nods of approval worked around the room, and anyone close enough nudged and clapped Leaning Bear and his men on the shoulders and back, praising their actions.

With a full belly and healing wound, gratitude overwhelmed me. “Thank you, Four Bears, for your generosity. You’ve shared your home and food and medicine with us, when you didn’t have to. We appreciate your hospitality.”

Four Bears nodded, accepting the gratitude with gravity. I turned my attention to Leaning Bear.

“And thank you for taking pity on us, Leaning Bear. We’re grateful you went out of your way to show us kindness. If not for you and your men, we may have died in that cave.”

I’d spent just enough time with natives in my travels to know many of their cultures revolved around honor, especially among the warriors. I had no desire to upset that balance, so I tried to choose my words carefully to show my gratitude, but also to maintain Leaning Bears’ reputation. Besides which, I really was thankful that he’d saved us.

Leaning Bear preened, clearly pleased with himself. He leaned toward Four Bears and said something just for his ears. Yellow Hair Woman watched them, and from her furrowed brow she knew the subject of their conversation. So when Four Bears turned to discuss the matter with her, she was ready for him. To anyone not paying close attention, the exchange didn’t seem out of place or heated, but I couldn’t help notice their disagreement. They both scowled and although they kept their voices low, the words were clipped and intense.

The contents of my stomach rolled and soured.

I leaned to Lydia and whispered in her ear, “I have a bad feeling…”

Before she could respond, Yellow Hair Woman made a
hmph
sound and turned to address us.

“Leaning Bear has taken an interest in Red Face Woman, and has expressed his desire to make her his wife.”

“Who is Red Face Woman?” I asked, puzzled as to why this was our concern.

Yellow Hair Woman glanced at Lydia, whose jaw had dropped open in disbelief. Two and two came together, then, and I realized Lydia was Red Face Woman. If not for the circumstances, I would have found it amusing that first of all she’d already earned a name among the People, but also that they’d chosen one so very appropriate for her.

“I’m sure Lydia’s flattered by Leaning Bear’s attention, but…”

“I can speak for myself, Emmett.”

Four Bears spoke, and Yellow Hair Woman continued her position as translator. “Does Red Face Woman belong to another man?”

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Lydia said at the same time.

“Is she your wife?” Four Bears asked.

“No,” I said.

“Is she promised to you?”

“Not exactly.”

“You wish her to be?”

I looked at Lydia, whose expression hinted that she was ready to work past some of her timidity.

“Yes,” I said, and swallowed hard.

Lydia’s brows went up in surprise.

Four Bears and Leaning Bear continued in heated discussion, then Four Bears said, “Since two men want her, we must decide which will win her. She has no family among us for you to present your gifts to, and to decide who will have her. So we must decide another way.”

Lydia looked as if she might explode. She was certainly disgruntled, if not downright outraged. “What if—” she started, but I interrupted her.

“Not now, Lydia. Whatever you’re going to say, think hard about it. The last thing we want to do is insult the people who saved us.”

“What if I don’t want either of you?” she whispered.

“I don’t think that’s an option.”

“Well, you know of the two alternatives, I’m going to choose you.”

“I just hope they allow you to make the choice.”

Her pique slipped just a bit and shades of panic crept into her eyes as she worked out the idea of being forced to marry Leaning Bear.

“What if,” she said, turning to Four Bears, “we have a competition?”

Four Bears frowned, considering her suggestion. “What kind of competition?”

“No fighting,” she glanced at me, then at Leaning Bear. “Where would be the honor in beating an injured man?”

Leaning Bear didn’t appear very happy about being denied what would have been an easy win, but of course her appeal to his honor worked like magic and may have saved my life.

She was a crafty little thing wrapped up in an unassuming package. By Leaning Bear’s expression, he thought the same thing and liked it; or at least considered it an asset that made her a more valuable—and maybe formidable—wife. He seemed the kind of man who enjoyed a challenge.

“Then what?” Four Bears asked. “What would be a fair test?”

“What about storytelling?” Lydia asked. “That’s a well-regarded skill, is it not?”

I groaned inwardly. I’d almost rather fight Leaning Bear with my fists than with words. All I could hope was his storytelling skills were worse than mine. She’d saved my life only to hand me the nearly impossible task of saving hers.

Four Bears smiled and nodded. “Storytelling is an excellent choice.”

“And Lydia will choose the best story,” I said.

“You will both tell your stories and everyone will decide which is best,” Four Bears said.

I wanted to point out the crowd would surely favor their own man over a stranger no matter how good my story, partly because he was family, but also because they had to live with his wrath if they didn’t. But if I said so, I’d insult everyone in the camp, which wasn’t a very smart move. My only real hope was that he’d tell a story that even if well-loved, was one they’d heard before and maybe, just maybe, they’d appreciate a new story even more. Now all I had to do was figure out what story to tell them.

I’d done all I could to give Emmett a chance, now it was up to him to figure out how to win the competition. I couldn’t be more terrified if I tried. Emmett couldn’t lose, because I couldn’t be married to an Indian. Not that Leaning Bear wasn’t an attractive man, in a savage sort of way, but if I ever married, I intended to have some say in who stood across from me at the altar. I never wanted to find myself sold off like property ever again. I’d done that once, letting Father make that decision for me, and agreeing to it like a sheep. At the time it hadn’t felt like a blessing to be rejected, but in the end it really had been, regardless of how much I’d struggled since then. At least if Emmett won, I wouldn’t have to marry him, but if Leaning Bear won, I wasn’t sure how I’d avoid it.

“Leaning Bear, share a story with us,” Four Bears said.

As Leaning Bear spoke, Yellow Hair Woman translated for us, keeping her voice low so she didn’t disturb the rest of the audience.

“When I was a young man, I went on my first buffalo hunt, where I earned my name.”

I watched the people around me as they smiled and nudged each other, nodding their approval. The story must be a well-known favorite if everyone recognized it. I glanced at Emmett as he listened, and he appeared distracted. He watched Leaning Bear, and listened to Yellow Hair Woman, but he seemed to be focused inward, I hoped, formulating his own story.

“We followed the herd for three days. The final day, Short Shadow told us we had caught up to the buffalo and would hunt tomorrow. We made camp.”

Leaning Bear told his story well, using his upper body to sit tall or hunch as a way of engaging his audience. His energy infected them, and they hung on his every word despite having heard the story before. His hands danced in the air, emulating actions, and his eyes glittered with mischief in the firelight.

He told of the hunters making camp, preparing their weapons, and how he decided to explore. He convinced another boy to go with him, and they wandered off, climbed some rocks and found some rabbits to chase through the trees.

The girls behind me giggled. I didn’t think chasing rabbits was particularly funny, so maybe they anticipated whatever came next. All eyes were on Leaning Bear, except for one young woman who had fixed her gaze on me. Her grim frown made it obvious she didn’t like me, though I hadn’t met her yet, so I could think of no reason for her to feel that way unless…