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“I don’t care what you do with anything,” Leonida snapped, then stamped away from him.
He caught up with her immediately. “I’m sorry for upsetting you,” he said, glad to be away from the Indian tents and walking toward the fort. “But, Leonida, I must warn you against being so easily swayed by the Indians. I’m being too trusting myself to believe that I will ever see anything made from the yarn I handed over to that crippled wench.”
Leonida cringed at his reference to Pure Blossom as a “wench,” but she now only wanted to get to the privacy of her house. “Who was that Indian warrior?” she asked cautiously. “It is obvious that you don’t like him.”
Setting his jaw tightly, Harold did not answer her right away, but he finally responded, knowing that he would have to sooner or later, anyhow. Leonida was not the sort to let anything get past her. Especially the name of a man with whom she was so obviously infatuated.
“Sage,” he grumbled. “A Navaho chief.” He glared over at her. “Pure Blossom is his sister.”
“He’s a chief,” Leonida said to herself, still tingling inside from Sage’s touch, his voice, and the way he had looked at her with his midnight-dark eyes.
The sound of hooves behind her drew her eyes around just in time to see Sage riding away on a magnificent chestnut stallion with a saddle of stamped leather. The silver ornaments hanging from his saddle flashed in the sun. For a brief moment he turned his head her way. When their eyes met, a silent promise seemed to be exchanged between them, yet she did not know why.
Shaken by her feelings, Leonida tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere. She stared at the fort as they approached it. The western side had a strong wall twelve feet high. Adobe rooms along the inside of the wall were used as officers’ quarters and garrison headquarters. The north end wall was similar but shorter. The south wall was a barracks that contained the main entrance to the fort. The eastern wall, called the “long barracks,” had a hospital at one end and an enclosure for cattle and horses behind it.
Stretching to the west and south was a green valley that wove toward widely separated mountain ridges. Through this valley flowed a river of sparkling blue waters. Unable to shake the Navaho chief from her mind, Leonida turned and watched him as he rode toward the river in the distance.
It was her keenest desire to follow him.
*****
