“Yes, you. That morning at the river when I sighted you, I saw you, and yet the image before me was not entirely the way you are now. In my vision, I beheld you not as a white woman, but as my wife.”
“Your wife?”
“Haa’he. And it was then that I realized that whether you could help me free my people or not, it was not important. Seeing you as my wife was the Creator’s way of giving me hope. Hope for a future, hope for happiness. In truth, it is more than I have had for many years.”
Angelia gulped. She? She had given him hope? A warm flush swept over her. “Oh, Swift Hawk, what a noble thing for you to say. And it reminds me of how much I love you. But I don’t really know if Icanhelp you. I will try, though.”
She lay back, but no sooner had she done so than another thought occurred to her, and she scooted up so that she couldlean onto one of her elbows. “Are you certain that what you are doing now, following me, is what is necessary to break the spell? I mean, do you think this is where you should be?”
“No,” he admitted, “I am not certain of that anymore. I have had another vision that leads me to believe that there might yet be another path, a different path. After I accompany you and your brother safely to Santa Fe, I will do what I can to pick up this new trail.”
Angelia hesitated and drew her brows together in a frown. But though she was quiet, Swift Hawk did not interrupt her thoughts. After a while, she said, “No.”
“No?”
“No, you shouldn’t take us all the way to Santa Fe.”
Rising up, he smiled into her eyes, then he placed his lips against her forehead. “It is kind of you to release me from my promise, but you must know that I would not be an honorable man if I let you do it.”
“But—”
“Your brother will make mistakes that will bring attention to him—you know that he will. I could not leave here knowing this, for he might attract these bounty hunters to you.”
“Really, I think that?—”
“No,” he emphasized the word. “You will not sway me on this. I will see you both safely to Santa Fe. Then I will discover this other trail.” Once more, he lay back against the ground.
She nodded, following his lead and, moving onto her side, she cuddled her body against his. There was something very erotic about discussing such subjects with one’s lover, in the nude, in a lean-to, out on the prairie. Erotic, and yet natural, all at the same time.
“Can you tell me about this other vision?”
He shrugged. “It is not a common thing to share one’s vision with another, for a vision is a private thing, and a man may go his entire life following what the Creator has set forthfor him. Even still, the only people who would know of his vision are himself and his medicine man.”
“Oh. I see.”
“But because you are part of this,” he continued, “and a part of my vision, I think that I might speak to you of it.”
She inclined her head gently. “I would like to hear of it, then. Perhaps I might still be able to be of some help.”
“It is possible. You might. It happened earlier, shortly after the sun hit its highest peak.”
“Around noon,” she interpreted.
“Haa’he. I was on the prairie, and with the dark clouds coming, I threatened the Thunderer, challenging him to a duel. As I was turning away, I saw the vision, there in the clouds. It was an image of two men. One was a white man who wore a black hat and black boots. His mustache was black, as was the hair upon his head, and he wore a red shirt and buckskin trousers.”
Angelia nodded. It could be anybody. “And the other man?”
“He was a short man, fat, with little hair on his head, though what hair he did have was black and was slicked across his head. He was dressed differently than the first man, than any of the other white people I have seen, thus far. His trousers were of a material similar to those I have seen made by the Pueblo Indians, those Indians who live a little farther south and west of us. This man’s shirt was also of a different color and looked like the cotton shirts of the French, yet not quite the same. And he had a flimsy material of sorts at his neck.”
“Yes, I understand. What you have described could fit the description of any well-to-do man in the southern part of our country.” She frowned as an unusual image took shape within her mind, one that wouldn’t let go. Why, Swift Hawk might be describing a man she knew…a man she despised. “Was there more?”
“Yes. My people were there also, happy, but most important they were free. In my vision I had accomplished my purpose. Itis this that leads me to believe that my path may be to find these men, for I think they might lead me to breaking the curse.”
“Yes. Yes, it would seem so. However, Swift Hawk, I must protest. I really think that you should followthispath now, not?—”
He placed a finger over her lips. “Do not say more. My mind is made up on this. I will see you safely to Santa Fe.”
“Correction. You will see my brother safely to Santa Fe. If you go to seek this man, I will go with you.”
