Sarah's Heart (16 page)

* * *

Wolf scanned the
horizon for the stand of trees that marked their camping spot, praying for a
break from the jolting pain caused by Scout’s every step. The relentless sun soaked
his buckskin shirt and pants with sweat and stuck them to his skin, but the
heat had little to do with the anger boiling within him when he remembered the
faces of the men who’d beat him over and over again. Even the Colonel in charge
of Fort Leavenworth had turned a blind eye when
Wolf declared his innocence. He seethed with hatred at their cruelty and fought
to put the chilling memory behind him.

 
Wolf turned an appreciative eye on Sarah’s
horse, considering he’d paid a hefty price for the animal. He watched Sarah
ride and stifled a chuckle at her lack of skill. Even the saddle failed to set
her body in harmony with Star’s movement. She hadn’t lied when she admitted to
not being accustomed to riding. No wonder she was ready for a rest.

The familiar oval
leaves of the Hackberry trees beckoned not far ahead. His mother had taught him
their Sioux name,
Yamnumnugapi
,
meaning ‘crunching with teeth.’ In the fall, small purple berries ripened,
serving as food for pheasants and wild turkeys, but Sioux women used the fruit
to add flavor to the meat they cooked. He recalled, as a child, helping her
gather the tree’s harvest, and a pang of sadness for a mother long gone plucked
at his heart.

* * *

The two riders
reined their horses in beneath the cooling shade and dismounted. Sarah set to
work, clearing pebbles and debris from the sleeping area, then set stones for a
fire. Wolf untied their supplies from their mounts and dropped them next to
her. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll wander down to the creek and wash up a
bit.”

The stifling hot
midday sun made Sarah’s skin sticky to the touch. The high clouds passing
overhead did nothing to cool the air—only added to the humidity. She rolled up
her drooping shirtsleeves, and brushed the beads of perspiration from her
forehead. “Sounds like a good idea. I’ll take a turn when you’re done.” She
watched him walk off, feeling sorrow for what he’d endured.

The idea of a
campfire held no appeal, but she gathered wood knowing when the sun went down
the temperature fell with it. She dropped an armload of small logs next to the
stone ring then spread out the bedrolls. When she finished, Wolf still hadn’t
returned.

Sarah sat on her
blanket,
her arms wrapped around bent knees and surveyed the
prairie. So far, fate had provided shelter when they needed it and plenty of
water. Despite the few setbacks, she remained optimistic that Independence would be the beginning of a new
life. She tried to recall what the town looked like, but with all the hustle
and bustle of getting the wagons ready to depart for California, there had been little time for
sightseeing. She’d get a good glimpse soon enough.

 
Her thoughts turned again to Wolf and she
frowned, thinking he’d been gone for far too long. She stood, deciding to put
her mind at ease. Following the same path he’d taken, she made her way to the
stream.

Upon hearing the
distinct sound of babbling water, she stepped from between two trees. “Ready or
not, here I come,” she called.

She didn’t see or
hear him.

“Wolf, where are
you?” The panic rising inside reflected in her voice. She scanned the short
lush banks, and the area beyond the tall cord grass. Towering far over her
head, it formed a barrier to the prairie, and she was reluctant to traipse
through it for fear of finding the resting place of another snake.

“Wolf, please answer
me.” The urgency to see his face and know he was safe spiked like a fever. Her
mind raced with possibilities, all of them bad. What if he had fallen and hit
his head or…the war party?

Chapter Fifteen

Sarah stilled her
fear and walked along the creek bank a short distance until it forked, winding
off through tall reeds. The grassy thatch would be an ideal place for someone
to hide, but if there was a war party, wouldn’t she have heard something? Fear
aside, she pushed and weaved her way through the towering shafts, following the
flow and still hoping to see Wolf’s face.

She stopped and
listened, cupping her ear against the gurgling water and the rustling breeze.
Something splashed up ahead. Treading softly, Sarah pushed onward, trudging
through the annoying foliage and praying it wasn’t an animal she heard. The
hair on the back of her neck bristled.

Sarah peeked out
from the swaying corridor and saw him. He wore only his breechclout and stood
with his back to her. For the first time she viewed his hair unbraided.
Dripping wet locks hung well past his broad shoulders and glistened in the
sunlight. When he swept the ebony mass to the side to braid it, Sarah’s hand
flew to her mouth, silencing a gasp. Wolf’s entire back was a mass of welts and
bruises. Some spots had scabbed over creating a zigzag of dark lines across his
normally unblemished skin. No wonder he’d stiffened when she hugged him. She
exhaled against her palm, shaking her head in disbelief.

As if sensing her
presence, Wolf turned. His eye widened and he tried to shield himself with his
buckskins. Aware his actions had nothing to do with modesty, she rushed
forward.

“Oh my God, what
happened to you?”
Such a dumb question.
His black and
swollen eye provided her answer.

“Nothing
to fret over.”
He
casually finished plaiting his hair. “I’m actually feeling much better after my
little soak.”

She walked nearer,
rage heating her blood. “How could they… why… I’m so mad I.…”

Wolf met her half
way and pressed a finger against her lips.
“Shhh.
I’m
fine. I’ve survived worse, believe it or not.”

She studied his face
through a blur of tears. “But it’s not right. They had no reason to beat you
like this.” Her finger gingerly traced a welt on his upper arm. “Is there anything
remaining from your mother’s collection of herbs that might help?”

“Really, I’m fine.”
He backed away and pulled his shirt over his head.

Sarah stepped around
him, lifting up the buckskin and surveying his back. “No, you’re not. I can’t
believe you rode so many days to return to St. Mary’s, and now, traveling
again… you’ve not said a word.”

He faced her, his
eyes solemn. “Sarah, it’s over and done. Let it go. There’s no changing what
happened. In a few days, you’ll barely be able to see the marks.”

Words escaped her.
How could he accept such horrid treatment? True, the lines might fade, but
didn’t acts like that leave a scar on a person’s heart? Hers ached for him—for
all that he’d been through in his life simply because he was a mixed breed. It
wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t asked to be born. She touched his arm. “I’m so
sorry you’ve suffered at the hands of ignorant people. I wish there was
something I could do to make up for it.”

“There is.” His
features softened, and he gathered her into his arms. Before she had a chance
to speak, his lips claimed hers, sending shivers of delight coursing through
her body. Her mind screamed to pull away, but her heart’s plea convinced her to
stay. She parted her lips, allowing his seeking tongue entrance to her mouth, his
kiss quenching a desire too long denied. Twining her arms around his neck, she
sagged against him, unable…unwilling to stop.

Wolf suddenly held
her at arm’s length, jarring her back to reality. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I don’t
know what….”

She lowered her gaze,
words failing her. Her cheeks burned with the impropriety of her actions. But
hadn’t she dreamed of this moment? The sun beat down, increasing her discomfort
in the awkward silence.

“That was a
mistake.” His words cut like a knife. “I hope you aren’t mad at me. It won’t
happen again, I promise.” He bent and picked up the items he discarded on the
ground before his bath.

Did her face show
the disappointment and hurt stabbing at her? If she apologized for allowing his
kiss, she’d be lying. She struggled to find her voice. “It’s alright. I think
we’re both overwrought and tired. Let’s just forget it happened.”

As if she could. Her
insides still trembled and her heart begged for more.

* * *

Wolf stretched out
on his bedroll with his arms tucked behind his head. His back had finally
healed enough that it didn’t pain him to lie on it. His insides still hurt. He
stared at the canopy of green between him and the sky. A light breeze fluttered
the leaves and provided slight relief from the stifling heat. Sarah had
returned to the stream to take her turn in the cool water.

The feel of her lips
still lingered on his. Why had he apologized for kissing her when he’d thought
about it for days? He’d give anything to have her body crushed against him like
it was during those few fleeting moments.
And the promise?
Could he live up to it and never take her in his arms again? His heart faltered
beneath the heavy burden he’d placed on it, knowing he had to keep his vow.
Sarah deserved better than a life with a half-breed. The soldier’s beating had
served as a brutal reminder that he would never be her equal.

Exhaustion from his
ordeal finally caught up with him.
Lulled by the soft
twittering of songbirds perched in the trees, Wolf’s eyes fluttered, then
closed.

Sarah tiptoed into
camp. Wolf had told her he was going to take a nap, so she’d waited in the
bushes until she heard him snoring. She didn’t want to wake him. Poor man, he
needed his rest. She’d forgotten the clean shirt in her valise and came back
clad in her chemise and pants. Water beaded on her arms and drizzled down her
face. Her clothes were damp but felt refreshing. She slung her long tresses
back and forth, sending water splattering into the air. Her childlike antics
peppered Wolf’s face and he bolted into a sitting position, his eyes wide and
his hand reaching for his knife. “What the…?”

“I’m sorry.” She
flashed him a sheepish grin. “I should have known better. I was just trying to
rid my hair of some of this excess water.” Twisting a handful, she wrung a steady
stream onto the ground.

Wolf wiped his face.
“No harm done. It’s just as well. If I sleep now I won’t tonight.” He looked up
at her, his smile broadening.

She suddenly
realized her state of undress and embraced herself while sidestepping toward
her valise. “I… I… didn’t want to put a dirty shirt on a clean body.” She
grabbed the checkered garment, snapped the wrinkles from it and shot one arm
through a sleeve. “You can look away, you know.”

He averted his gaze,
staring at the ground. “Who do you think washed and tended you when you were
feverish and out of your head? I’ve seen you wearing far less.”

Sarah stifled a
gasp. She’d never given a though to what transpired during that time. Now she
felt like someone stoked a campfire beneath her skin. Wolf had seen her naked?
Had he taken other liberties while she suffered from delusions?

She glared at him
while buttoning her shirt. “A gentleman would never have blurted out such
personal information.”

Wolf stretched out
on his bedroll, lying on his side, his arm propping his head. “Would you rather
I’d let you burn with fever? If I hadn’t bathed you with cool water, you
might’ve died. I guess I didn’t figure it was practical to douse you through
your clothes.”

She clenched her
hands on her hips. “I appreciate that you saved my life. It’s…well… I’ve just
never undressed in front of anyone else—at least not since I’ve been grown. I
realize it doesn’t bother you to run around half-naked, but you and I come from
different places. My mother taught me I should only share my body once I
married. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going back to the stream and wash this.”
She snatched up her dirty shirt, flung it over her shoulder, and huffed out of
camp.

Different worlds!
She’d hit the nail on the head. Wolf rolled onto his back and stared up at a
lone patch of blue visible through the leaves, and sighed. He’d known for a
long time how unlike he and Sarah were, but until today he wasn’t certain that
she did. Maybe he had mistaken her gratitude for kindness and been blinded by
it, but not any more. Her blazing stare left him little doubt she didn’t
appreciate the fact that he’d undressed her.

What else could he
have done? He learned from the Sioux that showing one’s body was nothing to be
ashamed of, rather something to adorn with paint, decorate with beads, and mark
with scars of courage. Communal bathing came as natural as breathing. He hadn’t
given a second thought to removing her clothing and washing her. His lips
curved into a smile at the memory, as he admitted that what he saw was pleasant
to the eye, but looking was all he did.

Sarah returned and,
standing on tiptoes, hung her wet shirt from the lowest tree branch in camp,
then turned to face him. “I’m sorry I got so upset. I’m fine now, and I really
do appreciate the fact that you saved my life. I was embarrassed, that’s all.”