He was going to have to talk to She-steals-my-breath once again and ask if she might inquire about who the Crow girl was. He did not wish the white woman to speak to the Crow people about this, however—there could be danger for her in doing so. But, there would be no harm in asking her to make inquiries of other white people. Someone might know who the girl was and might even have more information.
Perhaps tomorrow, he would seek her out again. He was surprised by the instant pleasure that washed over him at the thought. And, even reminding himself that she was soon to be married didn't cause the pleasure to dim.
****
SHE WAS SURPRISINGLYtaken by the manners of the Indian gentleman. He had been firm in his questions to her, yet had also been kind, being considerate about her reluctance to speak with him. He had shown her respect, as well as sensitivity to her situation by giving her the option to withdraw from speaking to him. Further, once he had obtained the information he had sought, he'd given her an eagle's feather. She knew enough about the tribes to realize the gift was bestowed in appreciation. But, there was more: it had come from his heart. His hand over hers had symbolized this. And, the gift had, indeed, touched her.
Oddly, her hand still remembered the feel of his touch. She placed her fingers to her face, imagining her fingers were his and were smoothing over her skin.
No! She dropped both of her hands.
What was wrong with her? Perhaps he was simply too handsome and too...charismatic. Never had she ever imagined she would react to an Indian man in such a way.
Instead, she had expected the natives to be dressed in cavemen-like fashion: in repulsive skins and furs, with gaudy feathers, tattoos and ornaments covering every inch of their bodies. Never had she thought to admire an American Indian’s dress nor his manners. Moreover, besides the obvious beauty of his people’s clothing, she had never expected to see a gleam of intelligence behind the Indian man's dark eyes.
She sighed, realizing she was thinking about this Blackfoot Indian much too greatly. It was a useless mental exercise, for it was unlikely she would ever see him again, which was as it should be. She reminded herself she was soon to be married.
But, her encounter with the Blackfoot man did cause her to ask questions of herself: was it wise to marry Thomas when his touch did not affect her in an emotional, passionate way? A man who did not make her tremble in anticipation?
The thought was troubling because shehadfelt a spark between herself and this Blackfoot man. But, surely her reaction was not a flicker of pleasure; probably, it was fear.
He will be gone tomorrow, and I will never see him again. And, this is very good!
CHAPTER TWO
––––––––
"CAREFUL WHERE YOU STEP, m'dear," cautioned Thomas as he and Laylah led their horses toward the outer gate of the fort. "I fear no one has been about yet this morning to clean up the grounds, and you might step into something that will require you to change your boots."
Laylah laughed. "I thank you for your warning, for this could very well be so. I will be careful where I place my feet."
"Good. Are you excited to begin the day?"
"I am, Thomas. It seems we have talked about an excursion like this for weeks, and at last we are doing it. I cannot wait to put our plans into action. Indeed, I have longed to leave the fort and travel the paths of the prairie to see what it looks like in the autumn. Yes, there are many trees we can see from the fort, but it's not the same as being out there. And, now, with the scent of autumn within my breath, I can hardly wait to experience the beauty of it all." She smiled at Thomas. "Are we also looking at the grounds for other reasons?"
He chuckled. "We might be, m'dear. We might be."
Laylah returned his grin as they slowly stepped toward the gate. She drew in a deep breath of the dry, refreshing air, filling her lungs with the abundant supply of sweet oxygen. Taking a moment, she looked around the fort.
It was a bright and beautiful morning. There was plenty of sunshine to caress the growth of trees hugging the hills around the fort, and, looking up, she espied many fluffy clouds sailing by overhead. Truly, they did appear to be sailing through the sky, for the incessant wind in this place was giving speed to those white puffs. The atmosphere felt warm on this day in early October, and she had to admit to being excited about leaving the fort, if only for half a day.
She and Thomas had diligently set their plans this past week, having put aside this day to ride out upon the prairie, there to admire the landscape which was generally brown at this time of year. It was an odd sort of beauty: the prairie itself was flat and brown, yet high cliffs—tinted brown, tan or white—rose up majestically from the prairie floor.
She had already explored the woods housing many different kinds of hardwood trees that grew on the hills close to the fort. Even now, their leaves brightened the brown plains with their yellow and gold colors.
Laylah’s enthusiasm was fueled by the traders, the clerks and the trappers who had spoken about the many coulees which cut into the prairie, and she had heard stories from Thomas of the beauty to be found within these gorges. Additionally, several of the trappers had described these in more detail to her, their descriptions painting pictures within her mind of the short grasses and rivulets that ran through them. She could imagine the cedar and juniper trees that clung to the cliff walls; she could envision the look of the cottonwood, the willow and the ash trees that hugged the shores of the creeks that flowed within these coulees.
Imagine the beauty Thomas and I shall discover today.
She could barely keep the feeling of excitement from bursting out from within her. But, it seemed silly to be so excited about leaving the fort to merely peep at the colored leaves, since there were many and varied deciduous trees within easy range of it. Indeed, the fort was graced by patches of cottonwood, elm, ash and weeping willow trees that grew up strong on the north, south and eastern slopes surrounding it. Even to the west, across the coffee-and-cream-colored waters of the Missouri River, were groves of these same kinds of trees. Yet, the idea of being free upon the plains, with the wind in her hair and upon her face, had taken hold of her as though either it or she were enchanted.
However, in the back of Laylah's mind was an additional plan which gave her an even more distinct feeling of pleasure: today she and Thomas might find a piece of ground they both liked enough to build a home upon it. Perhaps there they would settle down at last and begin the adventure of raising a family.
But, there was a slight negative about this, though she tried not to consider it. At the back of her mind was always the question as to the safety of the northern prairie. Perhaps this was why she was here: to determine whether their eventual home would be here or in St. Louis.
This past week, she and Thomas had spoken about their plans for this day and had decided that, in addition to viewing the prairie, they would pack a picnic dinner to enjoy around midday. To this end, they had secured several blankets to set out over the ground and had also filled many baskets with the kind of food that was in abundance in this land: dried meat of all kinds, fresh berries and bread.
Thomas had piled all of these onto the back of their packhorse. And, although it was still early in the morning, a stable boy had already saddled their three horses—her gray quarter horse included—and had secured their baskets and blankets.
