Love by Dawn (22 page)

Reaching the bottom of the mountain, they
mounted their horses. Casey knew that they had to find food for
themselves and the animals. The poor creature’s ribs were showing,
although they fed them what they could find buried beneath the
ground. She never knew horses would eat wild onions and turnips,
raw or cooked, but when starving, one would eat anything as she
found out when Blake shot a wolf. And she’d never forget that
day.

He had gone out to hunt and
she was napping. The low growl didn’t disturb her at first; she was
dreaming and she believed it was part of her subconscious images.
When the growl got closer and something cold touched her face, her
eyes flew open. She was staring into lethal black eyes of a wolf.
She thinned her lips with irritation
,
more perturbed than
frightened.

Dear God. What next.

Now, as she reflected back she had to smile
at what her first reasoning was when staring into the jaws of
death. But she had had enough fear to last her a dozen lifetimes.
She gritted her teeth and snarled, “Go away.”

She wasn’t being brave, but foolish as it
was either her or the wild canine and she wasn’t about to be its
lunch. Checkers entered the cave and the wolf turned on the horse
and snarled. The angry wolf’s mind was as made up as was Casey’s.
The animal wouldn’t give up her life easily and began barking
frantically, snapping at Checker’s hoofs. It snarled and growled,
baring yellow fangs but the horse kicked it front legs trying to
discourage the animal. Casey moved quickly away fearing she might
get crushed under Checker’s feet by accident. Dog and horse
continued their battle until Blake ran in and shot the canine.

He patted his horse’s nose and repeatedly
thanked his mount, praising him for saving her life. He went to her
and hugged her, saying, “Can’t I leave you alone for a moment
without you getting into trouble.”

Blake was joking but he was also shaking and
he informed her that while he was searching for her he had passed a
Navaho village not far from where they were now. He had stopped
there to gather more provisions and grain for the horse before
venturing up the mountain. Casey delighted in the news, but she was
even happier as they traveled and the sun warmed her body, fearing
she’d never feel warmth again. Upon reaching the village, she
noticed that the native women were dressed in colorful skirts and
tops whereas the men wore cloths unlike like the Apache. They
donned pants and woolen shirts; their moccasins and trouser were
adorned with silver buttons. Many children, also clad in pants and
dresses, ran up to her and Blake as they trotted into their
village. An old Indian was sitting by his dwelling smoking a pipe;
he nodded and they dismounted.

“Hello,” said Blake, “might I imposed on your
hospitality again.”

The red man nodded and grunted and blew
smoke into the air. Casey hoped that was a positive answer. “Yes,”
he said after another drag of smoke. “I remember you young man. You
may enter my home; my wife is making lamb stew.”

Her mouth actually drooled.

On entering, they saw an old lady hunched
over a boiling pot. Now her mouth really salivated. The old Indian
followed them inside and when the woman stood, Casey noticed, like
the woman’s husband, she wore a beautiful silver and turquoise
pectoral.

“Wife, this is the man who visited us before
when he was looking for his woman.” He turned, looked Casey over
and then grunted. “You are she?”

“Yes,” Casey acknowledged.

Another grunt, “Sit we have plenty of
food.”

She and Blake obliged as the woman, who
never spoke, dished out the meal. Casey looked around at the place
that was very different from the wickiups. A loom sat in the corner
and Blake had told her that these people made the best blankets in
the whole country. The weave was so tight that rain would roll off
the fabric.

She thanked the woman for the meal, which
she devoured in seconds. She wished she could have more, but knew
enough not to ask. As it was, she saw the bottom of the pot and
knew they had shared the last of their food. It was the best meal
she had ever tasted.

After Blake thanked them again, the old
Indian offered their son’s empty dwelling saying he was off
sheering the sheep and wouldn’t return for a few days. Casey
thought she’d really found paradise, things were beginning to look
up. Both tired, they didn’t make love that night, besides she
admitted to Blake she didn’t feel right in a stranger‘s home. He
didn’t argue and they snuggled and slept soundly until a dog barged
in and began licking her face. Her mind still half-asleep she
believed it was Blake annoying her so early.

“Blake,” she groused, sleepily, “Stop, I’m in
no mood for your kiss…” She opened her eyes gaping at long tongue
and white fangs. “Eeeek!” she screamed and jumped up, taking the
blanket with her leaving Blake naked to the world.

“What the hell!” he said tersely, “I hope you
have a good explanation why you nearly punctured my ears
drums.”

She shrieked, her hand on her breast, “A… a
wolf!” Her voice broke and she took a quick sharp breath. The
drooling dog sat looking at Blake its head cocked as if he was
wondering why she was acted funny. Blake stared back appearing more
surprised than frightened.

“Hey boy,” he put his fist out so the canine
could smell his scent. The animal sniffed and then licked his hand.
Apparently, her foolish bed partner felt confident enough to
scratch behind the dog’s ear. “Hey, fella, where did you come
from?”

Casey stamped her foot and pouted. “Do you
mind?”

“Huh?” Blake looked up and she pulled her
mouth into a straight line telling him she was not happy about the
dog invading her territory.

“Ow, honey, he’s just a big mutt. He won’t
bite.”

She pulled the blanket tighter and jutted out
her quivering chin. “So, you’re an expert on wolves?”

Blake had the nerve to laugh, making her
feel very foolish at her conduct. But in her mind it was
understandable what with that episode in the cave and her fear of
strange dogs. In her heart, she had always been afraid of them ever
since one chased her up a tree when she was eight. That damn beast
had growled at her for a long time before Hunter found her crying
hysterical on a limb. The canine had to be chased away before she
would come down and if that wasn’t enough, Hunter teased and
laughed at her for three days until their father put a stop to her
brother’s tomfoolery.

Blake didn’t have to be hit over the head to
see she was very frightened. That this female, who fought the cold,
sickness, a crazed Indian and tried to shoo away a hungry wolf was
afraid of a mere dog surprised him; but he was certain she had a
good reason. He could have kicked himself in the ass for being so
insensitive and apologized for his crassness. Taking the dog by the
scruff of his neck, he pulled him out of the lodge quickly before
being caught in his all together.

“Sorry, old girl, two females in one home
only leads to disaster.” He had to smile but he wouldn’t let Casey
see him enjoy his mirth and he wiped the grin off his face before
turning around.

“I know I should explain my childish actions,
but I don’t want to. Let’s dress and leave before something else
frightens me.” She turned her back telling him she had nothing else
to say. He merely shrugged.

On the third day of the journey, a light rain
chilled Casey to the bone and she wished she had one of those
tightly woven blankets. But thankfully the rain didn’t last and the
sun dried her again. And so it went, the sun was brutal during the
day and the nights were cold, but Blake’s body and love would warm
her, bringing back memories of when they first met.

It seemed like eons ago and so much had
happened in the months she had spent away from the only place she
had known as home; the small shack in the middle of a nowhere. She
wondered what her parents would think if they knew what had
happened to their children. “A penny for your thoughts?” asked
Blake catching her woolgathering.

Casey looked up at the moon, shivering at the
sound of a distant coyote. She sighed, “Oh, just wondering about
life and my parents. I miss them very much.”

“Honey, you never talk about them. I do know
your pa died that same night. Pits caught him and you brother
dealing with slave traders. Believe me, it’s a night I’d like to
forget.”

Holding her close, he commented sincerely,
“I’m sorry about your father.”

She released another drawn out, sad breath.
“It wasn’t your fault, so tell me about your parents. You never
talked about them except that your father was a doctor.”

It was her lover’s turn to sigh and he
answered sadly, “He wanted me to be a doctor, but I hadn’t the
stomach for it.”

She would have snorted but she didn’t. “You?
I cannot believe that. You said you’d fought in the war.” It was a
question and a statement.

“Yes, I guess I saw so much blood and death,
I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Besides, I already decided not to
follow in his footsteps. The war only made me more adamant towards
the idea. I have no siblings and I disappointed my old man.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you didn’t.
And I’m sure he loved you all the same.”

He said he wanted to believe her words and
silently she had to think he did. She approached what she hoped was
a better subject and inquired, “What about your mother?” A warm
light came to his light eyes and Casey knew he was thinking of
her.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“That goes without saying,” commented Casey
truthfully. “Look at her handsome son.”

A flash of humor crossed his face and his
deep chuckle made her believe that he was sincerely amused.

“Well, then Casey, I guess that your own
mother was beautiful. Just look at how handsome your brother
is.”

At first, the gist of his banter sailed over
her head, then she frowned and poked him playfully. His rich
laughter filled her with happiness and she joined in. When their
laughter died, Casey sighed. “My mother died when I was young. Yes,
she was lovely, but she had a hard life and aged before her years.
And for your information smart ass, I look like my father.”

“Hmmm? He musta been very pretty.”

Blake tweaked her nose, his lips turned up
into an impish grin. She burst out with another fit of mirth.

When she and Blake trotted into the village
of White Mountain Apache clan, she was as well known as Blake. That
night they stayed in that neighboring clan of Blue Thunder’s tribe
and she knew they would soon be home. It was here she met the son
of the deceased chief Itca-chu, a good friend of Blue Thunder’s
father. She was grateful that Blake’s reputation preceded him and
she learned Blue Thunder had sent scouts to look for her.

“This is Pytha-Ouray, Fire Arrow,” Blake
introduced the handsome Indian to her. “I met him on my search for
you hoping that his clan had information about your whereabouts.
His sister, princess Rozene, which means Rose Blossom married my
cousin Jason, Moon Glow’s brother. He was the fellow I told you
about when I first came looking for Melissa.”

Fire Arrow chuckled. “We called him One Eye
because he could not see out of right eye. The white man bumped
into things.”

The Indian laughed again, but it wasn’t done
out of cruelty and Casey knew the Apache hadn’t meant any harm.
“Yes, I heard about him. He moved back home and is doing well after
the war left his family’s plantation in ruins. I also hear that his
younger sister Daphne, Moon Glow’s sister was raped by a Union
solider and had his baby on the wagon train coming out west. Daphne
now lives in California with her husband, Seth. Moon Glow told me
she was on that wagon train when Blue Thunder captured her.”

Fire Arrow grunted in compliance. “Yes, the
story was told to me. And my sister, Princess Rozene loves the
south. Moon Glow tells me that she has turned into a real Southern
Belle.”

Casey sighed, “It is ironic how all our lives
interweave with one another.”

Blake took her hand. The love in his eyes
told her that he was lucky that it did. And she had to agree. Her
mother always said something good always comes out of something
tragic.

That night she and Blake were given lodging
with Fire Arrow. They accepted his hospitality though she would’ve
preferred to be alone with Blake. He informed her that after
another day’s ride, they’d be back at Blue Thunder’s camp.

Sometime during predawn, the ground rumbled
and Casey’s dull, sleepy senses recalled the night her father
called for her. “Casey!” his voice seeped into her sub-conscience
and it brought back that nightmare. “Casey!” Again, the voice
penetrated her brain but it was only a bad dream, one she had many
times when growing up. She ignored it. But someone was shaking her
now and calling for her to wake up. She grumbled and moaned.
“Papa?”

“Casey! It’s Blake, wake up!”

She didn’t want to; it was only that same
recurring nightmare. Total recall blended with elusions and somehow
she knew her father was dead. The ground shook and curses reached
her foggy brain as she was continuously being roughly shaken. This
was not right. Her eyelids popped open and Blake had a fearful look
on his face.

“What?!” she croaked. Then she heard the
cries and screams of people. He yanked her to her feet. She tried
rubbing the sleep crust from her eyes, but he pulled her hands away
from her face

“Hurry, I think we’re under attack!” He spoke
with quiet, but desperate determination.

What!?
her mind screamed. Blake strapped on his gun belt and drew
his weapon. “Stay here,” he ordered in a voice of authority and
turned. Over his shoulder he proclaimed in a rush of words, “Fire
Arrow left to fight. I’m going to join him.” Before she could
protest, he was out the opening. Casey swallowed and took a deep
shaky breath.