Larkspur (37 page)

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Authors: Dorothy Garlock

Tags: #Romance, #FIC027050, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Larkspur
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It’s . . . you
? Her lips formed the words, but she didn’t say them.

Their faces were so close she could see the amber circle around the irises in his eyes. She was being cradled in strong arms against a warm chest that smelled faintly of woodsmoke.
Let it be real. Please let it be real.

“Buck? It’s you? Really?” Her mouth trembled, her eyes flooded until she could no longer see his face. She lifted her hand to his cheek.

“Yes, sweet girl. It’s really me. We’ll be going home soon.”

“I prayed you’d find me.” Her arms went around him and held him with surprising strength.

“I’d have crawled on my belly through a valley of rattlers to get to you. I kept telling you that I was coming.”

“I heard you. I swear I heard you.”

“Darlin’ girl. Sweet, sweet woman of my heart.”

The hoarsely whispered words came out on a breath. Kristin wasn’t quite sure if she heard them or if she just hoped that she had. She buried her face in the warm flesh of his neck and savored his nearness, his strength, his warm breath on her cheek. Every bone in her body throbbed with pain and her back felt as if it was about to break, but a wondrous spurt of happiness flooded her heart.

“Can we go home now . . . to your house?”

“First . . . I must know if he hurt you.”

“He . . . hit me once and . . . pinched my nose to cut off my air. I thought I was going to die. He was angry because I couldn’t stay on the horse—”

“Did he . . . rape you?” The words came croakingly from his tight throat.

Kristin leaned back so she could see his face. His stern profile was outlined against the blue sky. Her hand came around to cup his cheek.

“No. He didn’t touch me that way.”

“If he had . . . I would kill him now.”

“He said if you came he would kill you. I wanted you to come . . . and I didn’t want you to.”

“I never thought he’d go as far as steal you away.”

“When can we go home—”

“Soon. First I have a few things to settle with him. Don’t worry. We have friends here from Iron Jaw’s camp. Can you stand up, love?”

“Oh, Buck, am I your . . . love?”

“I think of you that way. I’m not good with words, especially when I’m with you. I get all tongue-tied and afraid I’ll say the wrong thing.”

“We talked about a lot of things when I first came to the Larkspur.”

“That was before I realized that you’re the most important thing in the world to me. I think about you all the time. When it’s settled with Forsythe, I want you to have all the Larkspur, the house, all I have—”

“Sshh—” She put her fingers on his lips. “It would mean nothing without you—nothing. I know that I’m dirty and look ugly, but would you kiss me—” Tears rolled once again from her eyes and down her cheeks.

“Ah . . . little love. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You will never look ugly to me . . . not even a hundred years from now.” His voice was choked with emotion.

“Then hold me, kiss me—”

A flood of tenderness washed over him when she turned her lips to his. He was anxious to settle with Runs Fast and leave this place, but the temptation to kiss her sweet lips was too great. He pressed his lips to hers, gently, sweetly, not caring who was watching. He lifted his head and looked down at her. Then put his lips close to her ear.

“The Sioux honor marriage. I have said that you are my wife. I’ve told them we were married long ago and that you stayed with your family until now.”

“Buck . . . I wish it were true. Oh, I wish it were true.”

“Ah . . . sweet girl. I’m not half good enough for you. We must talk about it, but first we’ve got to get away from here. I may have to fight Runs Fast—”

“No! Oh, God! No!”

“If I do, stay close to Black Elk. He is the one with the blue stone hanging from a cord around his neck. He is our friend. If anything happens to me, he will see that you get back to the Larkspur. Now, stand up if you can. Hold up your head like you did that day Runs Fast stole your drawers. Act haughty and proud.” He kissed her ear and pulled her to her feet. She leaned against him and lifted her face.

“I thought I might never see you again,” she whispered. “I couldn’t bear to lose you again. Will you think me shameless, without pride, if I say . . . I love you?”

With his arms around her, conscious of a dozen or more pairs of eyes watching them but not caring, Buck bent his head and pressed gentle kisses on her lips.

“Ah . . . sweet woman. No one has ever said those words to me. It’ll take some getting used to. Promise you’ll say them again . . . when we’re alone.”

“I’ll say them every day for the rest of our lives . . . if you want me to.”

Buck closed off his mind from this strange and wonderful thing that was happening. He had to deal with the present danger and could not afford any distractions. He turned to Black Elk and Runs Fast seated before a small fire. Runs Fast’s wives waited beside the packhorses, his warriors beside their ponies. Black Elk’s men waited patiently, one held the reins of Buck’s sorrel.

With Kristin walking beside and slightly behind him, Buck approached the fire.

“Sit and smoke,” Black Elk invited.

Buck shook his head. “I’ll not smoke with the man who stole my wife.”

Runs Fast snorted angrily, but Black Elk nodded his understanding and got to his feet. Runs Fast followed and stood scowling.

“My Sioux brother says that he had a vision,” Black Elk explained. “The Great One told him to find a woman with silver hair to be his talisman. With such a woman by his side, he would be able to do great things for his people.”

“Let him find another woman to be his talisman,” Buck said firmly, and moved so that Kristin stood behind him. “This one is my woman.”

“There is a way for Runs Fast to hear the voice of the Great One without the woman—”

“—There is no way,” Runs Fast interrupted angrily. “Have I not told you that—”

Black Elk turned on Runs Fast and spoke harshly. “Can you not make your tongue be quiet in your mouth?”

“I would hear of this way,” Buck said, and was pleased to see the arrogant Indian’s face reflect his embarrassment at being rebuked.

“It is the hair and not the woman that speaks to Runs Fast through the Great One,” Black Elk said. “He can take the hair to the faraway mountains, but leave the woman with her husband.”

“No!” The word exploded from Buck’s mouth and he reached for the knife in his belt. The image of a bloody scalp flashed before his eyes.

Black Elk moved over to where Kristin stood beside Buck, and touched the braid that lay on her breast.

Kristin had not understood a word spoken. But remembering Buck’s words the day Runs Fast came to the ranch, she did not cringe away from Black Elk’s hand.

“I do not suggest taking the scalp, Lenning. Only braid to hang in his lodge until he finds the woman of his vision.”

“What did he say, Buck?” Kristin asked anxiously.

“He wishes to give Runs Fast your braid.”

Buck looked at the handsome face of his newfound friend and began to understand. Black Elk was a diplomat and was trying to solve the problem without a fight. Buck knew that if he fought Runs Fast it would be a fight to the death. The Indian would accept no less.

“Is that all? Then we can go home?”

“I’ll not ask you to cut your hair and give it to the man who stole you away from your home and put you through a night of hell.”

“Take it, for heavens sake!” Kristin held out the braid to Black Elk.

“Not without the permission of your husband. And he must cut it from your head and give it willingly to Runs Fast.”

“Do it, Buck. Cut it off. It’ll grow back.”

“It’s askin’ a hell of a lot, honey, for me to give it to him willingly.”

“Please—” She held the braid out by the end that was tied with a string. She didn’t understand why her light hair was important to the Indian. Back home there were so many Swedish women with light hair that it went unnoticed. “I would shave my head and give it all to keep you from fighting him.”

“I see why this is the woman of your heart, Lenning.” Black Elk’s eyes admired Kristin before he turned his attention back to the sullen Indian who stood with arms crossed. “Is it not enough if Lenning gives you his woman’s hair?”

Runs Fast looked off toward the mountains. He remembered Lenning defeating him in a footrace several summers back. His humiliation had been great. Lenning was larger, stronger; and while Runs Fast considered himself skilled with a knife, Lenning would have the advantage because he had not gone for more than a day without rest as Runs Fast had done.

By taking the woman’s hair, he would save face with his warriors and his wives would be glad to be rid of the hated
Wasicun.
He looked at his women now through different eyes. They were good to look upon and they did not wail or fight him as the
Wasicun
had done. They were strong, admired him greatly, and in time would bear him many sons.

His camp had been in an uproar since he had arrived with the
Wasicun
several hours ago. He had not thought his women would resent another wife so much, but they had screeched and yelled insults and threatened to divorce him. When he was rested, he would call them all to his blankets and let them give him pleasure.

“What is your word on this?” Black Elk thought he had given Runs Fast sufficient time to make a decision.

“I will take the hair, but I will cut it.”

“The hell you will,” Buck said heatedly.

“It is the husband’s duty to give his wife’s hair.” Black Elk nodded for Buck to proceed.

Buck pulled his knife from his belt. Kristin held on to the braid close to her head and Buck took the end. With it stretched tightly between their two hands he sawed back and forth with his knife until it came loose in his hand.

Holding it by the bound end, he held out the foot-long braid. Runs Fast reached for it and snatched it from his hand.

“Come near her again, you mangy son of a bitch, and I’ll kill you,” Buck muttered.

“It is done. We go.” Black Elk walked quickly to his pony and sprang up onto its back.

Keeping himself between Kristin and Runs Fast, Buck urged her to where the warrior held the reins of the sorrel. One side of her hair hung down her back, the other side swung loosely over her shoulder. He boosted her into the saddle and mounted behind her.

 

*  *  *

 

Black Elk set a faster pace on the return trip to Iron Jaw’s camp. The days were getting shorter and dusk came quickly to the mountains.

During the long ride they stopped only one time to water the horses and to let the scout behind them catch up and another scout go ahead. Buck could almost think Black Elk had had military training.

Kristin rode astride in front of Buck. She had been uncomfortable, at first, because her dress came only to her knees. Buck whispered to her that their companions were not shocked at the sight of her black-stockinged legs. He explained that men and women often bathed together in streams. She drew in a shocked breath.

“Without . . . clothes?”

Buck chuckled. “As bare as the day they were born.”

“My goodness gracious!”

Buck opened his coat, drew her tightly against his chest and wrapped the coat around her. His tired body took on new life. Here in his arms was everything he ever wanted. That she was safe and back with him was a miracle. Now he had to figure out a way to get her to a safe place until the business with Forsythe was over.

While he was at Wheeler Creek he had decided to send her away with Gustaf. His arms tightened around her at the thought. When she was rested, he must talk to her about it, even though it would almost kill him to let her go.

“I saved bread pudding for your supper.”

He groaned. “Don’t tell me. Bonnie gave me some biscuits to eat on the way, but I was so worried I forgot to eat them.”

“How did you find me?”

“At first I thought it was Forsythe’s men. I’ll tell you about it later. Are you warm?”

“Warm and happy.”

After a few more whispers she fell silent, and he realized that she had gone to sleep.

Smoke from supper fires hung over the camp when they reached it. Buck followed Black Elk to Iron Jaw’s lodge. The Indian dismounted when the old man came out. He listened to what Black Elk had to tell him, then came to where Buck sat his horse holding Kristin, who was still sleeping.

“It is good that Runs Fast gave up the woman without you having to kill him.”

“I’m not so sure I would have. He is strong and clever.”

“But you fight for your woman,” the old man said. “You would have been the victor.”

“Black Elk has my thanks for finding a way to prevent the fight.”

“Runs Fast will go far away and look for his foolish vision. He is vain and thinks only of what is good for him, not for our people.” Iron Jaw spoke bitterly.

“I regret he has taken some of your young warriors. If you need the drovers you lent to me, I will send them back.”

“They learn much from you. Black Elk says Buck Lenning is a man he could call brother.”

“I say the same about him. I have long admired the Sioux and been ashamed of the treatment they have received from my people.”

“It is enough that you say this.”

“Thank you. My wife will also thank you when she awakens.”

“When Man-Lost-in-Head first came to these mountains, he have hair like this.” Gnarled fingers stroked the bright hair that had escaped from beneath Buck’s coat. “Then his name White Cloud.”

“Man-Lost-in-Head was my wife’s uncle.”

“I can see that it would be so. Long ago when first I see you, in Man-Lost-in-Head’s bed, you cry with pain. I call you Crying Boy.” The old man chuckled. “You mad, say bad words, want to fight.” He placed his hand on Buck’s knee in a gesture of affection. “No longer Crying Boy. Lenning is much man now.”

“If that is true, I owe it to you, Iron Jaw, and to Man-Lost-in-Head.”

“Be gone, my son.” The old man waved his hand. “Black Elk will take you to a tepee where you can spend the night. Tomorrow will be time enough for you to return to the Larkspur.”

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