Page 53 of Wild Splendor


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Before eating her half, she looked slowly around at the others. When she found Sally and Adam on a blanket on the far side of the group, she smiled to herself, for they had been seen to as though they were as important as the Navaho. They were eating beef jerky, and a peach split in half rested in a wooden bowl beside Sally.

A thrill of sorts spread through Leonida as she watched Sally place the seed from her peach in a leather pouch, obviously also thinking of the Navaho’s needs in the future, showing that she was willing to do her part.

She turned her attention back to Runner as he swallowed the last of his peach and put his small hand on her arm, shaking it.

“I’d like more, please?” he said softly, his eyes looking trustingly into Leonida’s.

Leonida knew there weren’t that many left, and she wanted to spread out the pleasure of having them to eat for several more days. She glanced down at her uneaten half of the peach, then looked at Runner again.

Without hesitation, she scooted the dish toward him. She smiled as he grabbed the peach half from the dish and began taking eager bites from it, the juice rolling down his chin in pink streamers.

Leonida searched inside the travel bag and chose a piece of beef jerky for her meal, trying to forget the peach and how she had thought of eating it all day while traveling. Her mouth had even watered while she broke the peach in half, as though she were already able to taste the sweetness, the juiciness soon to quench her thirst.

“That was good,” Runner said, gulping down the last bite. He wiped his face with the back of a hand. “Now can I go and get Adam? Will you tell us stories?”

“Yes, go and bring whoever you wish to hear my stories,” Leonida said, but she grabbed one of his hands before he could leave. She gave Pure B

lossom another troubled glance, then said sternly, “But you tell the boys that they must sit quietly and not say a word. They can’t even laugh. We don’t want to do anything to disturb Pure Blossom. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Runner said anxiously, then wrenched his hand free and left in a mad run toward Adam.

Before Runner returned with the eager children, Leonida took a moment to lift her eyes to the heavens with a soft prayer that might help Sage in the moments of trial that awaited him. She prayed that she be given strength to accept what might happen these next few hours to her husband.

* * *

Dawn was just breaking along the horizon when Sage caught sight of a fire up ahead, beside the shine of a river. He brought his horse to a shuddering stop, quickly dismounted, and secured the reins on the ground beneath the weight of a large rock. Then he nodded to his warriors to follow him as he began moving stealthily toward the camp ahead. His hand clutched his rifle, his eyes narrowed with hatred as he crept closer and closer.

Then he stopped, puzzled by the paucity of horses grazing at the riverbank. There were only four, which meant that there were only four riders.

Where were the rest if this camp was Four Fingers and his warriors?

If it wasn’t Four Fingers, then who . . . ?

Motioning with his hand for his men to spread out and surround the camp, Sage began moving again, his moccasined feet making not even a shuffling sound in the sand beneath them. He frowned up at a red-winged hawk as it began soaring in the air in slow circles above the campfire, its screeches piercing the morning silence.

Then a rattler slithered into view, shaking its rattle at Sage, threatening him at this moment more than those who were only footsteps away with rifles lying at their sides.

A knife suddenly hissed through the air and sliced the head of the rattler off before it had time to strike at Sage.

Sage smiled over his shoulder at Spotted Feather, glad that he had chosen to stay close behind instead of going in another direction.

Sage nodded a silent thank-you, then continued moving stealthily onward until he was close enough to the sleeping men to realize for certain that he had not found Chief Four Fingers. Yet these were four of his warriors, who surely had separated from Four Fingers to continue scouting the area.

Anger and disappointment fused into one single explosive emotion within Sage. As his men moved in on all sides of the sleeping Kiowa, he inched his way toward them.

Then, as though with one heartbeat, the Navaho raced into the camp, and before the Kiowa understood what was happening, they were captured and tied together with one rope.

“Four Fingers,” Sage growled, leaning down into their faces. “Tell me where I can find Four Fingers.”

None of the Kiowa offered a response. They stood with their shoulders squared and their lips tightly pursed, eyeing Sage with contempt.

Sage nodded at Black Thunder. “Release one of them,” he said, his voice tight. “Release the one who is called Red Bonnet.”

Red Bonnet was set free. He was shoved over, to stand in front of Sage.

“Tell me where I can find your chief or you will suffer for your silence,” Sage ordered, handing his rifle to Black Thunder and yanking his knife from its sheath at his right side. “Count your fingers. You now see five? Soon it will be four, and then three.”

Red Bonnet glared at Sage, unmoved by the threat.

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