Wolf Shadow’s Promise (11 page)

His friend signaled agreement and, with a quick pat to Moon Wolf's shoulders, faded back into the shadows.

Moon Wolf watched him for a moment before, taking a deep breath, he began to sing his courage song in the best drunken voice he could muster. Perfecting his stagger so that he epitomized the image of a drunken idiot, he sauntered unsteadily back in the direction of the all too recent fight.

 

“Well, if it isn't ole Moon Wolf,” Lieutenant Warrington's voice alerted Moon Wolf to the man's close presence. “Where've you been, you old drunk?”

Moon Wolf halted for an instant in his wobbling act and pulled the robe down from around his head. He had been
erasing the tracks they had left behind and hoped that his disguise had once more masked the truth of his identity. He pasted an inane smile on his face, turned, swaying at the same time, and uttered, “Mor-r-re whisk-ee,” slurring the words.

“No more for you, you good-for-nothing rotten bag of fleas.”

Moon Wolf deliberately rolled his eyes until they bulged, then hiccupped. “This one not—hiccup—flea-bitten, not drunk either.”

“I wouldn't take any bets on it.” The lieutenant paused. “Did you see what happened here tonight?”

Moon Wolf staggered forward, clutching onto the lieutenant. “Mor-r-re whisk-ee.”

“No more.” The lieutenant disengaged Moon Wolf's hands from upon him, none too gently. He made a face. “Whew, you smell worse than a skunk in heat. I think you've already had more than your fair share of liquor for the night. You were supposed to be watching here and listening. And you had better be doing that or I won't be giving you any more of the brew. Have you news for me?”

Moon Wolf didn't answer at once. Instead he kept on singing.

The lieutenant tried again. “You good-for-nothing varmint, what news have you?”

“Mo-r-re whisk-ee.”

“Not until you tell me what you have heard.”

More singing followed the demand, and the lieutenant began to lose all patience. But then, just as the man made to turn away, Moon Wolf volunteered, “There are those—hiccup—who say the Wolf Shadow was killed.”

“Killed?” The lieutenant stomped back. “Killed, you say? Why you no good old bummer of an Injun. You're crazier than a loon. If he was killed, what do you call this tonight?”

Moon Wolf staggered forward. “Information must be…not good.”

“Pshaw! Not good, you say. Is that all you can tell me? Now, what use are you to me if you can't get me the details I need?”

“Much good is this one…heap big good.”

Lieutenant Warrington snorted, “I wouldn't take bets on that either. Now, no more whiskey tonight, do you hear? There'll be none for you at all until you tell me what I need to know.”

Moon Wolf teetered unstably. “No more whis-kee? But you promised you would get the white man's drink for me—hiccup. Said you nothing of these…details you needed.”

“Details?…” The lieutenant made a face. “I need to find myself another Injun is what I need to do. You're turning out to be nothing but a no-account dirty critter, and a drunk.” The lieutenant turned away and began to stroll off in the opposite direction.

“Don't need another,” Moon Wolf called after him. “This one good.”

“Good for nothing.”

“You tell this one what you need to know,” Moon Wolf staggered after him, adding another hiccup for good measure. “This one will get it. Besides, know…that all others are afraid…to be cursed, they are…”

Lieutenant Warrington stopped, and shook his head before he turned around. “All right, then,” he said. “See if you can manage to get it right this time. I need to know the identity of this Wolf Shadow, not his state of health, nor any other trivial facts about him. I need you to discover how the trickster gets into and out of the fort without leaving a single trace. Who helps him? Who are his friends? D'ya hear me? That's what I need to know, not, not…and no more whiskey until I get what I want.”

Moon Wolf deliberately bulged his eyes. “But what you ask is impossible. They say he is a ghost. How can I?…”

“That is your problem, not mine. And he is not a ghost.”

“But—”

“If you can't do it, I promise you that I will find myself another Injun, curse or no curse, and damn you and your whiskey.”

Moon Wolf remained silent, swaying slightly.

“Good,” the lieutenant asserted. “I guess we understand one another well enough.” And with that said, the man stomped off, back toward the barracks, anger marking his every step.

Moon Wolf watched for a moment before turning away. Hiding a grin with the easy stoicism of his race, he pulled the robe back up around his head, continuing to erase all signs of his and the new “Wolf Shadow's” tracks.

“I
s he still alive?” He crouched down beside her, where she squatted over his pet, and extended his hand to stroke the wolf.

“Yes,” she responded, watching that hand and his long fingers in fascination, “the bullet didn't hit any of his vital organs. See?” She bent over and pulled away the bandage she had set to the animal's wound, pointing to where the bullet had grazed its chest.

Moon Wolf drew in his breath, the sound of it resembling a hiss. He asked, “Will he live?”

“I'm fairly certain of it. There's a lot of blood, but I believe it's only a surface wound. I will go home shortly and get the herbs we will need to heal it. But if I am right, your wolf should be up and about again in a few weeks.” With a jerk, she raised her head and sniffed the air around her, asking after a few moments, “Moon Wolf, have you been drinking?”

He didn't answer, merely stared back at her until at last he stood. Grabbing the lantern, which he had set off to the
side, he signaled her to stand, too, and follow him.

She did as he asked, bringing another lantern with her.

They had gone only a short distance, their figures casting two large shadows on the cavern walls, when Moon Wolf suddenly stopped and rounded on her. “What is it that you do?” he demanded.

“What do you mean, what do I do? I am trying to save the wolf's life.”

“That is not what I mean and you know it. What did you mean to do tonight at the fort?”

She swung the lantern to her side, set it down, and crossed her arms over her chest, her own shadow flickering against the walls. She said, “I might ask you the same.”

Moon Wolf ignored her. “Did I give you permission to act as me?”

“Did I give you permission to get out of your bed?”

“Since when do I need such a thing? I am well and have been up and hunting for several suns now. I am capable of fighting my own battles.”

“I beg to differ.”

“What sort of lies are these that you tell me? Can you deny that I have been hunting every day?”

She held her ground. “I would deny that you are well enough to go up against the soldiers.”

“I am well enough and I am recovered.”

“I didn't think so at the time and I still have my reservations about it now.”

He scowled at her. “Do not bicker with me. It only causes us to leave the point, which is that you are not to go about disguised as me again. Do you not realize the danger you brought onto yourself tonight?”

“It is the same danger that you face whenever you go into the fort. Why should you have all the adventure?”

“Adventure? Is that what you think this is, why I do what I do? Do you not realize that I have no other life
than this? Do you think I would not rather be with the rest of my tribe, listening to the old men talk of the long ago days, smoking my pipe and watching my children grow fat from lack of want?”

She swallowed, only one thing he had mentioned holding her attention. “You have children?”

“That is not the issue.”

She backed up, unaware that his shadow loomed over hers. She asked, not caring if it concerned the subject at hand or not, “How many children do you have?”

She could sense his anger, yet still his answer was polite as he offered, “I have no children and we leave the point I am trying to make.”

“And your wife?”

His frown deepened. “Do I look the sort of man to be married?”

“Yes,” she returned. She could very well imagine it. From the recesses of her memory, she recalled just how well equipped this man was for such a role.

He made a sound deep in his throat, perhaps to vent his frustration, before he uttered, “If I were married, I would be with her now, helping her during the period of the white man's terrible injustices to our people.”

“Then you are not married?”

His brows narrowed. “
Saa
, no, I am not married.”

She let out her breath, unaware until she did so that she had been holding it. She couldn't quite bring herself to look at him as she came away from the wall and asked, “Why…why are you not married?” She risked a brief glimpse up at him to find him looking momentarily puzzled.

It was a fleeting impression, however, for he quickly swept all emotion from his countenance, pointing out, “I am not seeking a wife so do not put these thoughts into your mind, if it is a husband you are soliciting and the
reason you ask me these questions. You will not find a husband in me for I have no time for such a pleasant thing. But again, we leave the reason why we are even now talking, which is your recklessness tonight.”

“It was not reckless,” she defended. “And I am not seeking a—”

“You could have been killed.”

“But I was not.”

“No thanks to your own lack of planning. Did you go there with no strategy in mind as to what to do if the soldiers attacked?”

“Strategy? I didn't know I was supposed to have a plan.”

“Did you not? Then you should know better than to go out alone, with no one to help you if you should get into trouble. If it hadn't been for
Makoyi
awakening me, I hate to think what might have been.”

“
Makoyi
? You mean Wolf? The wolf awakened you?”

He nodded. “And led me to you.”

“I didn't know…” She glanced toward the wolf. “I didn't realize that animals could be so…so…”

“Human? So capable of feeling? What do you think? That an animal does not experience loyalty and emotion, just as you and I feel these things?”

“Of course I know that animals do, must have feelings…it's only that I…I owe the wolf a debt of gratitude, then.”

“Make him well. That will be enough.”

She nodded. “I will.”

“Hear me well, Little Brave Woman. Never again are you to go into the fort without at least two escape routes well planned. Nor should you let yourself be led into a trap.”

“A trap? That wasn't what this was tonight, was it?”

“I believe it might have been.” His face showed none
of the concern she heard in his voice as he continued, “How did you learn of this bull train?”

“I overheard some men talking.”

He paused a beat. “Why did you not tell me about this?”

She backed away from him, straightening up. “I knew you would only try to stop it and I didn't think that you were ready for that yet.”

He withdrew from her, too, and appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, barely listening to her, until, at last, he said, “They were talking to set up a trap, I believe. Did they see you listening? I should never have asked you to do my work for me. You must be careful in the future. You do not want suspicion thrown onto you.”

“I do not think anyone would suspect that I am helping the Wolf Shadow. I have been back here such a short time.” She frowned. “What makes you think it might have been a trap?”

“Because there was no whiskey on that shipment and I think that the wagon was there only to lure the Wolf Shadow into the open and capture him…which they almost did.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “How do you know that those wagons had no whiskey?”

“I went back to the scene of the fight that I might cover our tracks.”

“You what? Are you crazy? You could have been captured…you should have been. Why were you not?…”

He shrugged.

She thought for a moment, while several unanswered questions, like pieces of a puzzle, started to fall into place. She stated, almost to herself, “You use some sort of disguise when you go into the fort, don't you? That's how you can go into it and out of it as easily as you do. That's it, isn't it? I should have realized this before now.” She
scrutinized his appearance. “What is it you pretend to be?” She sniffed at the air. “A drunk?”

He lifted a single eyebrow at her, his only response.

“I'm right, aren't I? You pretend to be a drunken Indian, don't you? And I wager that you have other people helping you in the fort, too. That's how you can mastermind several routes of escape. And that's why no one has been able to catch you.” Her glance up at him was full of respect.

His expression, however, didn't change, nor did he utter a word.

“Although if that is the case,” she continued, “why did none of the Indians I approached in the fort help me? In truth, most of them seemed antagonistic toward the Wolf Shadow.”

“Because,” he spoke at last, “no one knows you and no one understood that you were a friend. You are white. Did you think others would trust you so easily?”

She shrugged. “I guess not.”

“
Haiya
,” he said inspecting her up and down, his gaze lingering over that area of her body where her breasts should have been in evidence. Under his intense regard, her knees went a little weak, while a sensation like white-hot lightning careened down her nervous system. She had never felt more like collapsing. But she didn't. She stood before him, shoulders pressed back, listening as he continued, “It seems that like the wily fox, you are very clever and quick of mind, yet it occurs to me that, once again, we leave the purpose of our talk. I can only wonder, do you distract me purposely?”

Her answer, a simple one, was a mischievous grin.

He shook his head. “Now hear me well. You are not to masquerade as the Wolf Shadow again.”

“Fine. I won't.”

He relaxed.

“As long as you promise me that until you are com
pletely recovered, you are not to become the Wolf Shadow, either.”

“
Haiya
, you are impossible. This is what I do. What gives you the right to dictate my actions to me?”

She raised her chin. “The right of any nurse. Besides, I am not trying to tyrannize you. I am only trying to cure you.”

“Then beware the cure.” A hint of humor tainted the hard quality of his words, though he paused for a moment. “What is this ‘tyrannize'?”

“I…well I guess it means to try to run other people's lives and not necessarily for their own good.”

“
Aa
, yes, this is a good word, this
tyrannize
, and describes exactly what you are trying to do.”

“I am not.”

He held up his hand. “We will not argue this any further. Do not make me repeat this again. You will not go about disguised as the Wolf Shadow again. I have spoken.”

“Fine,” she said. “I will devise my own disguise.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“And who will stop me?”

“
Haiya
, you would test the patience of Sun,” he uttered before he moved forward so swiftly that she didn't have time to react. He swept her into his arms. “It is I who would stop you.”

She didn't resist. Indeed, such a thing would have been the last thought in her mind. The clean, though earthy, scent of him assailed her, and she stared intently up into his dark, dark eyes, his lips so very close to her own. She dared to ask, “And how would you do it?”

In the space of a moment, he captured her mouth with his own, his answer to her, and she rejoiced, her own lips hungrily seeking out the sweet-salty taste of him. Was this what she had been awaiting all these long weeks? Was this where the long hours of teasing had taken them?

Indeed, her head spun, her body felt light, and excitement, sexual and thrilling, washed through her. It was as though an emotional reservoir had been let loose within her. Never, she realized, never would a kiss such as this stop her from trying to protect him. In truth, it made her all the more determined.

It did occur to her that perhaps, because she acted as a nurse, she should follow some code of ethics and pull away from him. But as his arms swept her even closer to him, with the rock-solid contours of his body outlined against her, she ceased to think at all.

Ah, sweet heaven. She felt herself melt.

All at once he drew back from her, staring down intently at her. Briefly, his fingers came up to brush over her cheeks once, again; his eyes alternately adoring, then angry. He asked, “Alas, Little Brave Woman, is this a madness with us?”

She couldn't answer.

“Do you feel it, too?”

“Hmmm,” she nodded, unable to voice a single word.

He groaned. “I don't need this right now,” he protested, even while his lips assailed hers again, kissing her, then holding her tightly to him, rubbing his cheek against hers. “Do you understand that, Alys?” he asked, his voice heavy with dissent. “I don't need this.” But even as he spoke, his lips, his tongue, played havoc with her.

“I must see you,” he admitted contrarily, breaking off the kiss and pulling her in closer. He ran his hands up and down her spine as though he might ease the yearning between them with his touch alone. He said, “My memory is not so long that I desire to use only it to bring the naked image of you back to mind. I must look upon you again, now, and”—he tugged on the shirt—“without this.”

She didn't think to deny him. She couldn't. Coherent thought had deserted her, her body now under his com
mand, and she let him ease the buckskin shirt up and over her head, the chilly touch of the cave's cool air only adding to her awakening. His fingers, however, met with the layers upon layers of linen she had used to wrap her breasts.

Clearly frustrated, he drew back, but only a little. “What is this?” he asked, fingering the material, his tone half amused, half tormented.

She grinned up at him. “I did not think it right that the Wolf Shadow should have breasts. I thought it might spoil his reputation.”

“It might at that,” he uttered, his voice a mere whisper. “But perhaps the seizers would not have fired upon you had they seen or been aware of these.” His hands cupped the material where her soft mounds should have been.

“Perhaps not.”