Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (67 page)

Josh scanned the valley again, shielding his eyes with his hand against the wind. His hair whipped around his face. Countless black dots billowed in the wind about a mile away, and he squinted. Ravens fluttered about, even in this weather, announcing the death of some animal.

“Damn.” He nudged his horse down the slope into the valley. What damage had those unscrupulous bastards managed this time? His stomach twisted into a tight knot as he drew closer to the site of the raven congregation. With a sinking feeling, he kicked his horse into a gallop, ignoring the heated pain in his shoulder and side.

His jaw clenched tightly when he pulled his horse to a stop moments later. He counted six bodies lying about amongst the sage. Josh threw his right leg over his horse’s neck and leapt off its back, landing lightly on his moccasin-clad right foot to absorb the impact. He quickly limped to the first body on the ground and knelt beside it. An elderly man lay frozen in death. His eyes were closed, and his hands rested on his chest as if he were sleeping peacefully. Judging by the pallor of the man’s skin, he had died no more than several hours ago.

Josh examined each body in turn. The family group consisted of the old man and woman, a young man, and three small children. His forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. These people had been carefully tended to after their death. Judging by the hoof prints on the ground, their killers had descended on the party quickly and mercilessly. They hadn’t stopped to even plunder the bodies of any belongings, and simply killed for apparent sport.

Someone else must have posed these people after the killers left. Josh swept the area. There had to have been at least one survivor. Faint small footprints that the wind hadn’t obscured led away from the massacre site, in the opposite direction as the men he pursued. Josh weighed his options. He could continue his pursuit of the outlaws, or he could follow the surviving member of this family, and get more information about the killers. The person could tell him exactly what he would be up against. And, he reasoned, he needed to tend to his wounds. In his present condition, he might not be able to apprehend these men, who had proven twice today that they held human life in low regard.

 Wisely, the person who survived was heading for the timberline, no doubt to seek shelter from the weather. His mind made up, Josh vaulted onto the back of his horse, groaning at the pain in his side. He hung off the gelding’s left side for a moment to catch his breath, then followed the faint trail of the lone survivor toward the forest. There was nothing he could do at the moment for the poor souls who had met an untimely and senseless death here.

His horse covered the few miles to the timberline in very little time. Snow flurries descended all around him, their intensity increasing by the minute. Dismounting and remounting his horse earlier had re-ignited the pain from his wounds. It would be good to finally stop and rest. The person he’d been following couldn’t be much further up ahead. The footprints had started out with long strides, but as the distance covered increased, Josh could tell the person had slowed down, the prints closer together, indicating a shortening in stride. Was he or she injured? He’d soon find out.

A line of young lodgepoles loomed up ahead, and Josh knew he’d found the individual he sought. The prints led directly to the trees. All other lodgepoles at the periphery of the forest were too tall and ancient to offer any kind of shelter. These younger ones, with their dense branches low to the ground could offer a person sanctuary much like a small cave. He reined his horse to a stop when he reached the trees, and eyed the bundle of firewood on the ground. He dismounted carefully, and pulled his blanket and rifle from the horse’s back. He removed the animal’s bridle, and hobbled the gelding’s front legs together, giving him enough line to find his own shelter, but not enough to run off.

“Hello,” Josh called out in Shoshone. “I am a friend. You have nothing to fear.” He stood before the tree he suspected concealed the one he’d been following, and waited. The crunching sound of dry nettles from beneath the branches reached his ears. He knelt to the ground. Several branches parted, and he hardened his face in surprise. The person staring out from beneath the natural shelter was the last thing he expected. A woman’s ghostly pale face emerged, her emerald green eyes staring at him. Long wavy strands of golden hair whipped around her face. Her eyes held no hint of fear, only a fierce determination. The shiny glint of a knife drew his attention downward to her hand. His eyes darted to the weapon, then back to the woman’s face. In the deep recesses of his mind, she looked vaguely familiar. He frowned, trying to recall where he’d seen her before. Perhaps she merely reminded him of his cousin’s wife, Katelyn.

The woman studied him wordlessly, then her eyes grew wide.

“Josh . . . Josh Osborne?”

Josh couldn’t have been more surprised at the words she uttered than if the earth had suddenly swallowed him up.

Chapter 2

Josh stared at the woman.

“You know me?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together. The woman blinked, but didn’t look away.

“We met about five years ago in Virginia City,” she said, raising her voice over the howl of the wind.

Was that disappointment he saw in her eyes? Josh strained his mind, trying to recollect having met her before. She couldn’t have been more than a young girl at the time. But then again, fair-skinned, light-haired white women had never held his attention.

“You can share the shelter,” she offered, moving away some of the branches. Bewildered, Josh realized he still knelt on the ground in the freezing wind. He pushed through the branches and crawled into the dry and calm space beneath the tree, pushing his rifle and blanket in front of him. He bit back a groan when pain shot through his arm. He felt a wetness running along his chest, and knew the bullet wound was oozing blood again. The lowest branches of the tree scraped against his head, and he ducked lower.

“Not exactly fancy, but better than being out in the open,” the young woman said. She scooted to the side in an awkward motion as if it pained her to move, and allowed him more room. Josh assessed her quickly, wondering if she was injured. A thousand questions flooded his mind. The blankets she had wrapped around her body made her appear large and bulky. The fine features of her face, and her dainty hands told him there should be a small woman under all those covers.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, breaking the silence between them. “Not that I blame you,” she continued, and laughed softly.  ”You weren’t exactly the friendly sort.”

“Refresh my memory,” he said. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what a white woman, one he presumably had met before, would possibly be doing at the sight of a massacre of a family of Shoshone in the middle of nowhere, this time of year.

“Your father’s mercantile. I ran into you. Literally. You accused me of having no common sense. Then you left in a huff.”

Even in the dimming light, Josh noticed a sparkle in her green eyes. “That’s a lot of detail to remember for such a quick encounter.”

“There’s a lot more I remember, but you wouldn’t be interested in those details.”

Josh’s eyebrows rose. Was she flirting with him? He’d encountered white women of questionable morals who toyed with a man’s mind that way. The sides of her lips twitched, just before she smiled brightly at him. He frowned in response.

“You’ve got a bullet hole in your shirt,” she said suddenly. Her smile faded, and she leaned toward him. He glanced sideways at his arm. His buffalo-hide robe fell open to expose his torn buckskin shirt where the bullet entered his shoulder. The area around it was stained dark with his blood. The woman’s hand reached out, and she touched the area. He couldn’t suppress a hiss, and he flinched.

“When did you get shot?” she asked. “That looks fresh.”

“This morning,” Josh said in a low voice, gritting his teeth.

“Did you remove the bullet? That wound is going to fester if you don’t treat it properly.”

Josh stared at the concerned look on her face. She spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, not like some female who would turn to hysterics at the sight of blood.

“It’ll be fine ‘til morning. I can’t start a fire in this weather to sterilize a knife.”

“I’ll take it out for you, if you want. In the morning.”

Their eyes met. Josh studied her face. Her skin was pale from the cold, and her eyes had dark circles underneath them. He wished he could start a fire to offer more warmth. Her layers of blankets would have to be enough for the night.

“What’s your name,” he asked slowly.

“Danica. Danica Jensen. But my friends call me Dani. Or, the Shoshone family who took me in …the ones I traveled with, called me
Kumaa ekon nawipin
. I really don’t know what that means. Maybe you do.”

Josh couldn’t decide whether to frown, or laugh at the name The People had given her. How did she know he would understand Shoshone? How did she know so much about him? The black hair and his bronze skin gave away the Indian part of his parentage. But how did she know that part was Shoshone? Perhaps she was only guessing. She had said
maybe
he’d know.

“Well? Do you know what it means?” she pressed, when he didn’t answer. He scrutinized her face. Rather than look away from his stare, her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, I think the name probably suits you,” he drawled slowly.

She glared at him.  “You’re not going to tell me,” she accused. “Fine. It doesn’t matter now anyways. They’re all dead.” Her voice cracked, despite her effort to appear indifferent. She pulled the blankets more firmly around herself, and shifted her body awkwardly to lean against the trunk of the tree. Her eyes closed, and her face contorted in a grimace. Josh wondered again if she was injured. He pulled his own blanket around his shoulders to ward off the cold.

“Miss Jensen, what do you know about that family of Shoshone that was massacred a few miles south of here?”

Her eyes flew open. “You know about them?”

“Your tracks from the site where they got killed led me here to you,” he said slowly, studying her face for her reaction.

“They were good people,” she whispered. She sniffed, and swiped a hasty hand over her eyes. “They helped me out last summer. I needed to get back to Virginia City, but I lost my way in the wilderness. I don’t know if they ever planned to return me to a white settlement. I have no idea how to get out of this wilderness, and we haven’t come across any white people . . . until today.” She laughed with disdain.

“You’ve been with them for nearly a year?”

“Close to it. I can’t remember.” She shrugged.

Josh frowned. Her vague answers only begged for more questions. What was a white woman doing traveling with a family of mountain Shoshone?

“Who attacked you?”

She shook her head, her eyes furrowing. “It happened so fast, no one had a chance to even react. Grandmother,
kakuu
, she threw a blanket over me when the first shots fired, and pushed me to the ground. They came from out of nowhere. I heard horses, and loud yelling, and just lots of guns firing.
Kakuu
fell on top of me, and I couldn’t move.”

“No doubt that saved your life. You don’t know how many men there were? You didn’t see any of them?”

“I didn’t see them. I only saw one of the horses before
Kakuu
covered me with that blanket. It had a cavalry brand on its left shoulder. I assumed the men had to be soldiers. I’ve heard about the army rounding up the Indians.”

“Cavalry brand?” Josh frowned again. The men he’d been tracking were definitely not cavalry. “How do you know it was a cavalry brand?”

Miss Jensen raised her brows, and looked at him as if he was daft. “The letters U and S on the left shoulder? I believe that’s the brand of the US cavalry.”

Josh studied her. The iciness in her tone matched the frigid wind beyond their shelter. His mind reeled. How did a poacher get hold of government horses?

“Who shot you?” she asked.

“The same men who killed the family you were with. I’ve been tracking them for days. They’re not cavalry. They’re poachers.”

“Why would they attack an innocent group of people?”

“Damned if I know,” Josh growled. He adjusted his left hip, and stretched out on the ground. “Listen.” He raised his head and looked at the woman huddled against the tree trunk. “We should probably both get some rest. In the morning, this storm should have blown over. Then we can figure out what to do.”

Miss Jensen stared at him. “I already know what I need to do,” she said firmly. “I need to get to Virginia City. Do you know how far it is from here?”

“About two day’s walk I’d guess. You’re just within the northwestern boundaries of the national park. Virginia City is due west of here.”

“Okay. Good.” She slowly eased herself to the ground with a groan, and huddled up in a ball, her limbs drawn up to her trunk, as best as he could tell. She raised her head again briefly. “Good night, Josh. I’ll remove your bullet in the morning.” With those words and a deep sigh, she nestled herself into her covers.

Josh stared at her bulk for a few more minutes, then settled into his own blanket, adjusting his weight to rest on his right hip. His mind still reeled with questions. This woman wasn’t going to provide any answers about herself freely, that much was clear. Not that he wanted to know anything about her, he told himself. She wasn’t his concern. His focus needed to stay on the men he’d been tracking. Closing his eyes for some much-needed rest, Josh hoped he could pick up their tracks again in the morning to continue his pursuit.

*****

Danica closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come. Josh Osborne. Her heart sped up, and her hands clutched at her stomach. A man she never in her wildest dreams expected to meet again. Her mind wandered back five years to the day she had first met him. She’d been scurrying through town in her brother’s old clothes, trying to evade her latest would-be beau, Trent Sloacum. Her friend Maddie had suggested they hide inside the mercantile, which had just opened its doors to begin the business day. Running through the door, she had collided head-on with the most handsome young man she had ever laid eyes on, and her sixteen-year-old heart and mind were in love at first sight.

There had been something about him she couldn’t define. His intense dark eyes perhaps when he glared at her with obvious distaste, or maybe it had been his strong hands that grabbed her arms, or the solid feel of muscle as her body collided against his. Danica didn’t know the reason. She simply knew that in all her sixteen years, she had never fancied herself smitten with anyone. And she was smitten with Josh Osborne. She’d seen him only briefly once more, but she never forgot him.

The memory of him had stayed with her over the next five years. No man she’d met since could compare. She knew her father would never approve of a man like Josh Osborne. His own father was a well-respected citizen and merchant in Virginia City, but because Josh’s mother had been an Indian, Danica’s father would surely shoot Josh on sight. In her father’s eyes, all Indians were in allegiance with the devil, no matter if they had a Christian upbringing or not.

Not that there was ever any hope for her that Josh Osborne would fancy a girl like her. Her friend Kate Russell had warned her that Josh was not interested in white women, nor was he a settling kind of man. But a girl could have her dreams, and Danica clung firmly to hers.

The Josh Osborne she met tonight, the man who slept mere feet away from her, was almost as she remembered him. He’d grown a bit older, his youthful face more chiseled now than the twenty year old man she lost her heart to. His eyes were the same; dark and serious. If anything, his shoulders were broader, and his body stronger now than it was back then. His thick black hair still hung in unruly strands to his shoulders.

Of all the places for her to meet him again, why here? Why now? Danica’s entire life had changed during that ill-fated trip last summer. She hadn’t seen her father in almost a year, and she wasn’t at all sure what kind of reception she would receive when she finally returned to Virginia City, but she had to get home. Surely he wouldn’t turn her away. Her future held no certainty. She didn’t know what she would do if her father sent her away. She’d almost asked Josh if he would be willing to take her to Virginia City, but he seemed determined to pursue the men who had shot him and killed her Shoshone family.

His gunshot wound worried her. She was almost certain that he also had another injury lower on his body, the way he’d kept shifting his weight. He was obviously in a lot of pain and discomfort, but to a casual observer, it didn’t show. That bullet had to come out of his shoulder, and she prayed the storm would let up by morning, and she could build a fire. Would he allow her to remove the bullet? She’d offered, but he had neither accepted nor declined. She couldn’t possibly imagine him taking out the bullet by himself.