Woman of Courage (39 page)

Buck had been on the trail for seven days, and it had been snowing most of that time. Between the heavy snowfall and the driving wind, it was hard to see up ahead.

“What am I doin’?” he mumbled under his breath. “I need my head examined, traveling in weather like this.” What he needed was a place to hunker down until the weather improved. Buck knew that the higher up he went into the mountains, the more challenging his trek would become. It was difficult now to see his brother, the hawk, with the snow falling as hard as it was, but Buck knew the red tail was there, for he could hear his call overhead.

Guess I should have holed up at Fort Walla Walla
, he told himself.
But if I’d done that I would have been tempted to ride over to the mission and check on Amanda
. He clenched the reins tighter.
Would that have been so bad? I would like to know how she’s doing
.

In spite of the furs he would be collecting, the idea of spending the winter in his drafty little cabin didn’t hold much appeal now that Jim was gone and wouldn’t be stopping over at his place for regular visits.

I could even stay in Jim’s cabin, since Yellow Bird won’t be goin’ back there, but I’d still be alone and thinking about Amanda
. Buck knew that no matter where he was, his thoughts would be on her.

Buck reined in for a moment, looking ahead, then glancing back from where he’d just come. He watched as snow kept falling, laying so heavy on the pines they could no longer support it. Buck was cold and miserable, especially now when snow from the branches ended up down the back of his neck. Did he really want to go any higher, where it would be even colder?

“What do ya say, boy?” Buck murmured, leaning over to stroke Dusty’s neck. “Should we turn around and head back to the fort where it’s warmer?”

The lathered horse whinnied as if in response.

“All right then,” Buck said, turning the horse around, “let’s head down to the fort, and we’ll stay for the winter.”

M
rs. Spalding would like you and your family to join us at the mission for Christmas dinner,” Amanda told Yellow Bird the morning before the holiday. “Gray Eagle and his family are welcome to join us, too.”

Yellow Bird blinked as she looked at Amanda with a curious expression. “What is Christ-mas?”

“It is the day we remember Christ’s birthday,” Amanda explained. “Remember, I told you the story of how Jesus was born in a lowly manger.”

“I remember story, but know nothing about Christ-mas dinner.”

“It’s the way many of my people celebrate, to remember the day of His birth. We get together for a special meal, sing songs about Jesus’ birth, and read the Christmas story from the Bible.” Amanda placed a gentle hand on Yellow Bird’s arm. “Will you come and help us celebrate?”

Yellow Bird nodded. “I will ask the others, too, but not till Gray Eagle returns.”

“Where is Gray Eagle?” Amanda asked.

“He go hunting with White Foot. They hope to get a few deer.”

“That would be good,” Amanda acknowledged. “Since winter is starting out, I hope they have good luck before the weather gets even worse.”

Making his way back down the mountains, Buck halted his horse and sat looking down at the Clearwater River. When he’d reached the top of the slopes overlooking the river, he’d found himself on a treeless, rocky plateau. During this snowstorm, Buck was glad he’d made the decision to turn back, for he knew it would have been a mistake to risk his life or Dusty’s to travel higher into the Rockies. He’d been dealing with heavy snowfall all day, and the rocky path was slippery. He would be glad to get down the frozen slope and onto the level ground that followed the river.

His horse’s flanks quivered from the day-to-day exertion, and Buck knew they both needed a rest. Buck had actually been planning to stop at Fort Walla Walla but had changed his mind, deciding to go back to the Nez Percé campsite to see Amanda instead. He still hadn’t decided what to say to her. Nothing had changed between the time he had left and now, so he couldn’t declare his love for Amanda or offer her any kind of a future.

So what is my purpose in going back?
Buck asked himself. He’d convinced himself that he was returning to the Nez Percé camp so he wouldn’t have to spend the winter alone, but Buck knew the real reason he was going back was to see Amanda.

“What am I hopin’ for?” he muttered. “Do I think if I stick around long enough she’ll accept me the way I am, and won’t expect me to convert to Christianity?”

With hooves pawing at the snow, Buck’s horse snorted, obviously impatient to go. Despite his own energy waning, all Buck could think about was getting back to the Nez Percé camp.

“Okay, okay, let’s be on our way,” Buck said, giving the reins a snap.

Dusty moved forward, but his hooves slipped on a frozen rock, partially hidden beneath the snow. Before Buck could intervene, horse and rider were sliding down the hill. Buck tightened his legs, gripping Dusty’s middle, and hoping to keep his balance. But the hill was too steep, as the horse whinnied and labored, slowly losing the battle to stay upright. Unable to hang on, Buck fell off the horse, and as he landed, Dusty lost his footing and rolled over on top of him, with most of his weight on Buck’s leg.

Buck groaned as his leg started to throb, fearing the worst, not only for himself, but for Dusty.
What was I thinking, pushing my horse like that?
He was almost sure his leg was broken. The pain was so intense he feared he might pass out. Miraculously, the horse stood up, shaking his mane, and Buck was relieved to see that, except for some blood coming from a cut above Dusty’s back leg, the horse seemed to be unharmed.

Buck, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well. He became instantly nauseous, seeing the bone showing through the skin on his leg through a tear in his leggings. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t put any weight on it. He needed something to pull himself up so he could get back on the horse. But short of a miracle, he didn’t see how that was going to happen, because there wasn’t even a twig within his reach. Buck was certain that if he stayed here on the cold, snow-covered ground too long, he would freeze to death.

The longer Buck lay there, the worse he felt. Shivering against the cold and feeling something warm and sticky on his forehead, he reached up to touch it. When Buck withdrew his hand and saw blood, he knew it wasn’t just his leg that had been injured. For some reason, though, his head didn’t hurt. Maybe the cold had numbed the pain.

Kree-e-e-e-e … Kree-e-e-e-e … Kree-e-e-e-e …

Through squinted eyes, Buck looked up and saw his winged friend circling overhead. He felt even more nauseous and woozy and knew he was losing consciousness. The last thing Buck remembered was the red hawk swooping down, landing on his chest, and then flying off again. As blackness overtook him, Buck was sure all hope was lost.

Kree-e-e-e-e … Kree-e-e-e-e … Kree-e-e-e-e …

Gray Eagle looked up and spotted a red-tailed hawk circling overhead. Then it swooped down, just missing his head.

“I wonder what is going on with that hawk,” Gray Eagle’s companion, White Foot, said.

“I am not sure.” Gray Eagle watched as the hawk flew up toward the hill in front of them and circled some more. After two or three times of circling, it swooped down again, screeching as it passed by Gray Eagle’s head, so close he could have reached out and touched it.

“Look up there!” White Foot pointed to the hill, where a buckskin horse stood on the edge of a cliff.

Gray Eagle shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun hitting the snow and looked in that direction. “I can’t be sure from here, but that looks like Buck McFadden’s horse. I think we should go check it out.”

“I thought you said Buck had gone back to his home in the mountains,” White Foot said.

“He did, but maybe something happened to him and his horse wandered off. You can stay here if you want to, but I’m going to take a look.” Gray Eagle snapped his horse’s reins and headed for the hill. He was glad when he looked over his shoulder and saw his friend following. If there was any kind of trouble ahead, it would be better if there were two of them.

As Gray Eagle and White Foot cautiously ascended the snow-covered hill, the red-tailed hawk seemed to be leading them on as it continued to soar and swoop.

When they reached the ledge where the horse stood, Gray Eagle spotted a man’s body lying in the snow. As they drew closer, he realized it was Buck.

“I think he is dead,” White Foot said, after the two men had dismounted and knelt next to Buck. “He does not seem to be breathing.”

Gray Eagle grimaced, noticing the blood seeping from Buck’s forehead, not to mention the bone sticking out of his twisted leg. He placed his hand in front of Buck’s mouth. There was a breath, but it was faint and shallow.

“Buck, can you hear me?” Gray Eagle asked.

No response. Not even the flutter of eyelashes.

“We need to find some wood and make a travois, because we have to get him back to camp right away,” Gray Eagle told White Foot. “Maybe Two Feathers, the medicine woman, can save him. Buck is a good friend to Yellow Bird and Amanda. They will not take it well if he dies.”

W
hen Gray Eagle and White Foot entered Two Feather’s tepee, carrying Buck on a travois, they found the middle-aged woman with a blanket draped closely around her, weaving a storage basket. Two Feathers was small, with smooth bronze skin and dark brown eyes. Her hair was thick, and a few strands of gray intertwined with her long coal-black braids.

“What is it?” she asked, looking up at them with surprise.

“Our friend has been injured, and we brought him to you for healing,” Gray Eagle replied. With White Foot’s help, he carefully placed the travois on the mat beside Two Feathers.

“His leg is broken, there’s a gash on his head. He’s also suffering from the cold.”

“He is barely breathing,” White Foot put in. “The bone in his leg is sticking out, too.”

“I will do my best.” Two Feathers placed the partially finished basket off to one side. “But I make no promises. If it be the Great Spirit’s will for this man to live, then he shall.”

Gray Eagle looked down at Buck. He still had not opened his eyes, nor given any kind of response when they’d talked to him. He feared the worst and knew he’d better head to the mission to let Amanda and Mary know what happened. After learning how close Buck had been to Yellow Bird’s husband, it wasn’t going to be easy to convey bad news about her longtime friend. Gray Eagle himself had acquired a great deal of respect for Buck, knowing how he’d protected Yellow Bird and Amanda as he accompanied them on their journey. If it hadn’t been for Buck, Gray Eagle might never have been reunited with Yellow Bird again, so he was grateful to this man.

“We must leave now,” Gray Eagle told Two Feathers, “but we will be back later to check on him.” Motioning for White Foot to follow, Gray Eagle hurried from the lodge.