Scars of the Heart (20 page)

Carly struggled to follow the woman’s logic. “But what does this have to do with me or the sacrifice?”

“The Pawnee did offer a maiden sacrifice to Tirawa each spring to help bring fat, happy babies and good harvest to our people. Most maidens came from our enemies.”

“How did you . . .” Carly swallowed hard. “I mean, how was she, uh—”

Little Bird studied her for a moment then conceded. “She was made bare and covered in black paint, only part.” The woman indicated the right side of her body. “Then she was tied to two trees and burned.”

A hard shudder rattled Carly. She squeezed her eyes closed to try and erase the picture that sprang to life there.

“You must remember, Carly, that was the way of the people for all time. The great chief Petalesharo saw the wrong of it and told all Pawnee. He cut a Comanche girl from the trees, gave her food and a horse to go home. I cannot help what my elders did before my birth,” Little Bird waited until Carly met her gaze before adding quietly, “Any more than you can help what the white soldiers do to our maidens now.”

Carly stared at her for a long time. She’d heard many stories of soldiers forcing themselves on young Indian women—another tale that could’ve remained a myth in her mind had she not spent so much time with these gentle people. Carly’s heart constricted. She knew only too well how those women felt. Every man she’d encountered since coming west had seen to that . . . every man but Kade.

Shaking off the weight settling about her, she summoned a slight smile. “Do I dare ask what your people sacrifice to Evening Star?” Little Bird seemed equally ready to lighten the mood.

“Only tobacco and the heart of the buffalo.”

Glancing in the direction the hateful woman had gone, Carly grew serious once more. “Little Bird, why does she dislike me so? Does she really believe I bring you bad luck?”

“Do not mind her.” Little Bird patted Carly’s arm again and picked up her quills. “She has a tongue like tall grass in a strong wind. I will speak to my uncle about her.”

“Who is she?”

Little Bird thought for a moment. “You would call her She-Who-Brought-The-Storm.”

Carly snorted. Fitting name. Only she wondered if the worst of the tempest was yet to come.

The rest of the day passed with clear skies, warm sun, and a welcome breeze. Little Bird helped Carly ready her few belongings for the journey. A tightness encompassed her chest when she thought of leaving the next morning. In the little time she had been among the Pawnee people, she had come to respect and admire them, especially the cheerful woman she now called friend. Yet each time Carly remembered the soldiers’ threat and the dark, turbulent features of Storm, she grew eager to leave to provide a measure of safety for the Pawnee people as well as herself.

Little Bird helped her make pemmican, cakes formed of berries, venison, and fat. These would provide her and Kade nourishment on the trail. They also packed jerky and flat bread made of corn. Little Bird explained they too would be leaving soon. The Indians had thinned the game in the region as much as they dared. They always left each hunting area with sufficient life to repopulate it, thus ensuring their own survival. It was time they moved on, away from the soldiers, back to their fields. Harvest beckoned.

Melancholy enshrouded Carly as evening drew near. She had hoped to see Kade, to have the opportunity to talk with him, to clear away the barbs their last conversation had left between them. Her memory swayed between their heated words about the soldiers and their warm embrace by the stream.

Carly walked slowly along the path to the pool. She carried empty water bladders in her hands and a heaviness in her heart. As she reached the high point along the narrow trail, she stopped, letting herself drift toward the place on the horizon where the sun kissed the earth. In the draw of a deep breath, the brilliant flaming arc thinned and disappeared, leaving a wake of fading orange. Carly sighed, knowing that as the color drained from the sky, warmth would drain from the earth. She could sympathize. Kade’s gentle embrace had filled her with a warmth she had never known before, and then, as quickly, this distance between them had let it seep away.

As she turned to carry out her intended task, movement caught her attention. A broad bronze back and long, black hair were quickly concealed by the stand of trees along the creek bank. Carly couldn’t be sure she’d seen anyone at all. Perhaps the deepening shadows played tricks on her. Yet her heart recognized what her eyes would not. Her rapid pulse gave flight to her feet, and she hurried toward the stream.

She wove her way through the trees and bushes. Her eyes scanned the shadows for Kade. As she neared the clearing, she saw him. Stopping, she allowed herself a moment. Uninhibited by the presence of others, unembarrassed by his knowing stare, Carly let her gaze travel the full length of him.

He was more beautiful than any painting or sculpture she had ever seen. He stood tall and proud, letting the fading light wash weakly over him. The evening breeze swept his hair away from his face, allowing Carly a perfect view of his chiseled features. He was a symphony—a perfect blending of silk and sinew, of contour and plain, of power and promise.

As she started toward him, a rustle of leaves made her hesitate. The bushes near him parted. Willowy legs stepped through the foliage. Carly strained her eyes to identify the intruder. Tall, slender, and self-assured, she moved to stand directly in front of Kade. He turned to face her, blocking Carly’s view of the woman completely.

Their quiet voices carried on the night air. Carly backed deeper into the foliage, though the duo appeared to be heavily involved with each other and unaware of her presence. The female voice escalated, but Carly couldn’t understand the Pawnee words. A moment later, the woman threw herself at Kade, wrapping her long arms tightly around his neck.

Carly gasped. She ducked behind a bush, fearing she’d drawn their attention. Why hadn’t she known? Of course Kade would have a woman here among these people. That’s who had nursed him back to health. Who had shared her tepee with him all the while Carly thought him dead. Who he sought in the stillness of the night.

When she looked again, Kade held the woman by the shoulders, at a slight distance so he could peer into her eyes. He spoke softly to her, and although Carly couldn’t see the woman’s face, she watched the Pawnee shake her head in response to what Kade said.

Glancing around, Carly sought an escape route. Why had she been foolish enough to think Kade might care for her? Why did she even want him to? A mournful wail drew her attention back to the clearing.

The woman now stood with her back to Carly. Her slender arms stretched before her, toward the swaying foliage disturbed by Kade’s departure. Her cry deepened to a groan of agony, yet the bushes stilled. Kade was gone.

A lovers’ rendezvous. Carly had almost interrupted the pair’s farewell. She and Kade would be leaving in the morning, and his lady grieved his parting.

Something crept up Carly’s throat, making breathing difficult. Why hadn’t Little Bird told her? Then again, why would she think to? Kade’s private life was none of Carly’s concern. His
life
was none of Carly’s concern. For reasons that were his own, he had felt it his duty to rescue her from Tiny. To appease a hysterical stranger, he’d agreed to deliver her to Marshall. After saving her life in the Destiny livery, he’d been shot. Now, instead of going home with his family and friends—with his lover—Kade was proving true to his word and taking Carly to find her aunt. His actions spoke only to the character of the man, not at all of emotions she’d hoped he had for her. He owed her no explanations. She owed him everything.

The sobbing grew louder. Bushes rustled and snapped. The woman fled. Carly peered through the leaves and realized the Pawnee ran toward her. In the fading light, Carly could see the bare brown arms hastily moving branches aside. She ducked deeper into her hiding place, holding her breath and fearing detection.

Her eyes widened as the woman drew near. Carly bit her lip to keep from crying out.
No! It can’t be!

She hugged her knees to her chest and sat there in the growing darkness and creeping cold long after Storm blew by.

“Carly? Did you hear me?” Kade twisted to look behind him at his companion. She hadn’t uttered ten words since they’d set out on their southward trek early that morning.

“What? What did you say?”

Green eyes blinked away the fog. He would’ve thought her asleep if she hadn’t repeatedly toyed with the strip of rawhide dangling from the saddle near his thigh. “I asked if you were all right. You’ve been very quiet this morning. Are your injuries bothering you? Do we need to stop and rest?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Kade knew Little Bird had given Carly something for the pain before they left. She also mentioned having put more turnip root powder in Carly’s bag. Yet he could think of no other reason for her solemn musing.

He thought back to the tribal feast they had enjoyed last night—festivities meant to honor the gods for the successful hunting season, beseech still other gods to make the harvest just as plentiful, and send the travelers safely on their way. Carly had been quiet and withdrawn all evening. He had assumed she was tired or in pain. Yet when he inquired of Little Bird this morning, she’d assured him Carly’s injuries were healing nicely and her sleep had been restful.

The two women had grown very close in the time Kade and Carly had spent in the village. Perhaps that was what troubled her. Perhaps she found leaving Little Bird a difficult thing to do. After all, she’d been through so much in recent months, and there had been no one to talk with, to laugh with since the death of her mother. Perhaps Carly simply missed her new friend.

Kade left her to her private thoughts the rest of the day. When he attempted to draw her into conversation, her answers were brief and distant.

Though the evening was clear, he searched for a secluded place to camp for the night. While among the Pawnee people, the couple had enjoyed some measure of security. Now that they once again traveled on the open plains, the risks were great. Kade and Carly had many enemies between them, and the last thing he wanted tonight was trouble.

Attempting to ignore the man who moved much too near her, Carly busied herself arranging her sleeping fur for the fourth time. Riding behind him on the stallion all day had been torturous. She’d tried to avoid contact, but the powerful muscles in his back moved against her in a demanding rhythm. His masculine scent settled about her in a captivating embrace. His voice, the few times he spoke, reached the very core of her, like a fist ensnaring her soul.

Yet Kade had been completely unaware of his effect on her. In fact, he’d seemed almost completely unaware of her altogether, lost in his own thoughts. Thoughts that most assuredly revolved around willowy legs and dark, steamy eyes. And now he expected Carly to sleep only inches away from him in this narrow dry wash he’d chosen as their bed.

She stood abruptly and moved toward their gear. A quick shake of the canteen doused her impulse to pour the cool liquid over her head. Water ran scarce through this dry land so late in the summer. She longed for a tall glass of lemonade, a proper bed with a fat mattress, and cool, crisp, clean sheets. She mumbled her disgruntlement.

“Did you say something?” Kade had been packing away their rations, but he stopped to glance in her direction.

“I said I don’t know how you tolerate life in this godforsaken land, full of grit and grime, devoid of even a trace of simple pleasure or civility.” She poured a small amount of water into her palm, then splashed it on her face. “What I’d give right now for a decent bath and a hairbrush.”

A long moment passed before Kade asked, “Carly, are you all right? Is your shoulder giving you grief?” He started toward her, but she cut him off.

“My shoulder is fine. And I’ll be fine once I’m back where I belong, back in Virginia with a solid roof over my head, delicious meals filling the house with rich aromas, and clever, educated people to socialize with.” She ran her damp hand behind her neck, begging the thick night air to stir up a cooling breeze.

Kade stared hard, making the evening hotter, the gully more narrow. Finally he turned and continued packing with a vengeance. She pretended not to notice. So what if she’d made him angry? So what if she’d hurt his sense of pride? She meant every word. She wanted to go home, home to Virginia, the sooner, the better.

She poured a small amount of the precious water in a tin cup and dug in her leather bag for the medicine pouch that Little Bird had stowed there. After dumping the white powder in the water, Carly swirled the mixture and drank it in one gulp. Perhaps the turnip root would numb more than just her aching shoulder.

Kade rolled to his side and cursed the star-filled sky. The moon shone brightly, keeping him awake. If he turned to the other side, he’d have to face Carly and be constantly reminded of how very near to him she lay. As if he could forget anyway. She tossed about unceasingly, no doubt to emphasize her earlier remarks regarding her discomfort.

“Spoiled, little ungrateful . . .” He gritted his teeth. He’d send a telegraph to Marshall at the first town they encountered. He would ask Carly’s aunt to wire ahead to the next station. Then he’d put the ragamuffin on the first stage headed that direction. Let the old aunt figure out how to get her back to Virginia. He’d been saddled with this brand of trouble long enough.

Her moan rolled on the still night air, and Kade covered his ears. Again she moaned, louder and longer.

“Stop it, Carly. You’ve made your point.”

More tossing and turning answered his command.

“You’re acting like a rotten child.” His last drop of patience evaporated. He rolled to face his companion. “And if you’re going to act like a child, then you deserve a fitting punish—”

“Kade . . .”

Something in her voice stopped him. Frustration? Anguish? Desperation? He focused his gaze in the thin light. A fine layer of perspiration glistened on her pale skin as she tossed her head back and forth. Her breathing came in short, ragged breaths. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.