Looking around the room, he noticed Gray Falcon had positioned himself so he was leaning against a far wall, directly across from the table used for trading. Eagle Heart joined him there, and, leaning back, crossed his arms in front of his chest, prepared to wait.
Unexpectedly, the delightful sound of a feminine laugh filled the air. He frowned, surprised, for the voice was pretty.
And, then he saw her: she had slipped into the trading center from a room in back and was standing behind the trader, Larpenteur. When she moved slightly, Eagle Heart caught a glance of bouncing brown curls with a hint of gold within them. And, those locks were shimmering against a very pretty face. She laughed again and took a few steps around the clerk, a smile still affixed to her lovely countenance. She was glancing up at Larpenteur, and Eagle Heart experienced a startling reaction: he forgot to breathe. She was that beautiful.
Her figure was slim and small, her profile showing off a perfect nose that turned up slightly at the end. Her eyelashes were long and brown, and her eyes were a brilliant color of green. Her cheeks were rosy, and her full lips were still smiling. The brown color of her hair, with gold intertwined, was of a shade he had never before seen on a woman until this moment, and the length of it fell down her back in luscious curls. And, he saw not a single hair on her face.
Eagle Heart tried to breathe in. He couldn't. She had literally stolen his breath away.
At this moment, he couldn't force himself to look elsewhere, and he felt as awkward as a young boy who was besotted by a girl. It was, however, impolite to stare, so Eagle Heart at last glanced away from her, only to return his gaze upon her when he heard her say, "Mr. Larpenteur, how good of you to write down all of your transactions. It is to be regretted, however, that I cannot read your handwriting." She grinned up at the man.
And, Eagle Heart experienced the sensation of his stomach dropping, as though there lived both moths and small butterflies within it. Of course, he had no idea what she'd said, for she didn't speak the same language as he. All he knew was her voice sounded as engaging as the song of the meadowlark.
"Ohpo'kiiyoo!Follow!" Gray Falcon nudged him in the ribs. "I am leaving here.Okí!Come on, let us go."
"Saa, I do not wish to leave from here yet." From his peripheral vision, he saw Gray Falcon frown at him.
"I admit she is pretty," said Gray Falcon. "Still, I do not understand how a white man's seed can make a woman to be so comely. But, it is so, is it not?"
"Áa,it is so."
Within a moment, another man, a tall, dark-haired fellow with a mustache that curled at its ends, stepped out from the adjacent room behind the counter. He put his arms around the woman's waist, and she didn't admonish him, as Eagle Heart thought she should since this was a public place. Instead, she laughed softly and turned into the man's embrace.
She must be married to the man.
Eagle Heart couldn't fully understand the feeling that swept over him, for his spirits plummeted. It was odd, because whether she was married to the curly-mustached man or not, it was nothing to him. She was beautiful, yes, but she was also married, as any fine-looking woman should be.
"It is told to me that she is not yet this man's wife," said Gray Falcon as though reading his friend's thoughts. "Although it is also said they are soon to be married. I think the man uses her, for he should not be keeping her so closely to him if they are not married...and before all eyes to see."
"It is so, my friend," Eagle Heart responded. "Yet, the whites are a strange people, and we do not know all of their ways. Perhaps a white man is permitted to hold her, even if they be not married. But still, he should not do this in front of others in case her reputation will be soiled.Okí,come, let us leave. I must ask the white men in this fort if they have any knowledge about where my brother might have gone, for I would be on my way."
Gray Falcon simply nodded, and the two friends quietly left the trading room.
****
LAYLAH MCINTOSH WATCHEDas two young Indian gentleman stood away from the wall in front of her and, turning, left the room. She wasn't certain what it was about them that caught her eye, for there were many Indian men here. Perhaps it was the elegant manner in which the two of them were attired, for their buckskin clothing was bleached a startling white, and, set off as it was with the contrast of their black hair, their dress alone looked as elegant as any man's might, white or Indian.
Or perhaps it was the muffled sound of their footfalls that brought her attention to them, for they made little sound as they crossed the room. With no boots to announce their departure, their footfalls were almost silent. They were both tall, also; their shoulders were squared back and their steps seemed oddly graceful.
"Mr. Larpenteur," asked Laylah softly. "What tribe of Indians are those two men? The ones wearing white." She nodded toward them.
"Dey bePieds Noirs, Mademoiselle."
"Pieds Noirs? Do you know the English name for the tribe?"
"De Blackfeet, Mademoiselle."
"The Blackfeet? The Tigers of the Plains?"
"Oui,Mademoiselle."
"How strange they should be so well dressed," she said. "I have heard the Blackfeet guard their land well and will kill any white man they find in their territory. It seems rather savage, and yet, to look at them...they seem almost stately."
"Oui,Mademoiselle. De Blackfeet look so, but rob...I am rob by thePieds Noirstoo much! DePieds Noirswild. Eet has been so since Monsieur Lewis and Monsieur Clark kilt a man of dePieds Noirs,de Blackfoot Injin."
"It is good you have told me about them. I shall do all I can to keep them distant from me, and shall make a mental note to never go into their country."
"Indeed, you shall not," agreed Thomas Sutter, who was Laylah's fiancé. He placed his arm around her waist and drew her in close to his chest. "Instead," he continued, "we shall return to St. Louis as soon as your visit to this land is finished. And, once there, we shall marry. Where would you like to live, m'dear. Here? Or in St. Louie?"
