Sharon shut her eyes and turned over in the buffalo robes laid out over the ground in the shelter she shared with Sweet Woman. She was supposed to be sleeping, but it was hard to do. She had told Strikes Fast the truth; she did love him. She would always love him. But, perhaps she shouldn't have communicated it to him as she had. Maybe she should have kept this particular detail to herself and should have simply thanked him for coming to her aid.
No, an unadorned "thank you" wasn't adequate for what he had risked on her behalf. For all of her existence, she would remember what her life might have become had he not been there for her, and always she would hold him in high esteem. Still, she hadn't meant for him to return her love, and particularly she hadn't meant for him to look upon her with any kind of carnal excitement.
And, what was she to do about her own reaction? He had kissed her fingers with passionate intent, and, despite many good reasons why she shouldn't, she had liked it…too much.
How she wished she could talk to the noble Pastor James or his wife. They would give her good advice. Hadn't they always?
For as long as she could remember, she had looked upon the dear pastor and his wife as the parents—or grandparents—she'd never had. Before she'd been old enough to know what it meant, her parents had been killed in a boating accident upon the Mississippi River. Because of the accident, she had grown up with no knowledge of them—no inheritance, no portraits, no diaries, no family. Nothing.
Instead, she had become close to the two people who had run the Methodist Church Orphanage for Children in the village of St. Louis. And, when she had been old enough, these two wonderful people had told her about her parents and how she had come to the orphanage as a baby; she had been brought to them by the woman who ran the boarding house where her parents had lived.
But, this was all they had been able to tell her. The nice pastor and his wife hadn't personally known her mother nor her father, and so weren't able to enlighten her about her lost family. But, these two people had stepped into her life and had become as close to her as grandparents might have been.
And, oh, how she wished they were here to give her their sound advice. But, even they were now gone.
It was shortly after the loss of the pastor and his wife that Sharon had met and become close to Amelia McIntosh. Amelia, young though she had been, had filled the absence within Sharon's life for having a family member. Amelia's excitement for living and for the Indian culture—and in particular for Gray Falcon—had given Sharon meaning in her life, and she had freely bestowed all the love in her heart to her new friend, Amelia.
She still remembered the day when Amelia had asked her to accompany her into the Montana Territory. Though the thought of going into the environment of the Plains Indians had frightened her to the point of nightmares, it had scared her more to think of Amelia going all the way to Indian Country alone. She had agreed to accompany Amelia, but had never told her friend how terrified she was of making the trip.
And, then had come the day when she had met and fallen in love with David Woodwin, a man so very handsome and so vastly talented as a painter, she'd had to pinch herself to ensure she wasn't dreaming when he had begun to court her.
David had proposed to her almost at once, and, in a whirlwind, they had made their plans to marry. It would have to wait for a couple of years, however, Sharon had told him, because she was accompanying her friend Amelia into the territory of the Blackfeet.
How exciting it had been when David had expressed a wish to come along with them. One of his heroes in the world of art was George Catlin, who had gone into the West to paint the portraits of the Indians. It was David's dream to become as successful as Mr. Catlin. Why, he could paint the Indians, too. What was more, he had suggested he and Sharon should marry in the American Northwest.
How happy they had been. It had been as though a dream had come true for Sharon. Truly, she would marry David, she would raise a family of her own and she would shower her love on each and every one of the children they would have.
She and David had been making their wedding plans on the very night when the Crow warrior, Red Sky, had kidnapped her. How happy she had been before her capture, happy enough to bestow all the love in her heart to David.
The memory caused her to gasp. She pinched herself. She was free from the Crow magician now; only a few days had passed—perhaps a week at the most. Therefore, it was not too late to set her agreement with David into motion: she and David would take the next steamboat back east to Fort Union. It had to be Fort Union because a man of the cloth resided there. The priest would then marry the two of them under the watchful eyes of God. Afterward, her world would turn right-side up again.
Sharon smiled and calmed down. It was going to be all right. Once she and David were married, their premarital indiscretion wouldn't matter. After all, she loved David, and she would make him a good wife.
Indeed, she would put behind her the passionate response she'd felt with Strikes Fast's mere touch. Passion, after all, was not a reason to call off a marriage. What was important in marriage was respect, love and shared interests. All this she held in common with David.
Closing her eyes, Sharon turned over and fell to sleep, a sleep filled with images of Strikes Fast stepping into the lair of the magician, Red Sky…Strikes Fast accompanying her to the Pikuni war camp and reuniting her with Amelia and her husband, Gray Falcon…Strikes Fast kissing her fingers…Strikes Fast telling her he loved her….
****
"Since he rescued you, have you come to know him well?" asked Amelia the very next morning as they were both working over and adding beadwork to a pair of moccasins.
"Who?" asked Sharon.
"Strikes Fast. Do you know him well?" asked Amelia.
"I do not. He has come to my defense twice now, it is true, and I consider him to be my hero, but I know almost nothing about him except that he is handsome, strong and more masculine than a man has a right to be. Do you know anything about him?"
"A little," said Amelia. "He is a Crow warrior, not Pikuni."
"Oh? Why is he here living with the Pikuni, then? I thought the Pikuni and the Crow were enemies."
"It is true. They are," said Amelia.
"Then, why is Strikes Fast such good friends with your husband as well as Laylah's husband?"
"I asked my husband the same question only recently, and he told me about an incident that happened about five years ago. It was then when both Eagle Heart and my husband saved Strikes Fast's sister and her child from a fearsome creature. He told me about how Eagle Heart's brother, Chases-the-enemy, had also rescued both Strikes Fast's sister and her child. When Strikes Fast's sister—her name is Little Dove—agreed to marry Chief Chases-the-enemy, Strikes Fast came to live amongst the Pikuni people, also. Apparently, Little Dove and her son are the only people still alive within his immediate family. My husband told me there is another reason why Strikes Fast remains living with the Pikuni, but I know not what it is, nor will my husband tell me anything about it."
Sharon nodded. After a moment, she said, "It is odd…."
