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He also had told her that no warrior would be standing outside her appoin
ted lodge, for all the people of his village would be participating.
He had told her that he trusted her not to flee now that she knew she was in no danger of being harmed while she was among his people. Oddly enough he had not asked her to promise not to escape.
She hated the idea of leaving after looking into his midnight-dark eyes. There was not only trust in them, but also caring.
She did not know how it could be happening, but she, too, cared for him. It was his voice, his manner, his magical way of just being who he was, so handsome and intriguing, that had awoken these feelings that she had never felt for a man before.
And she no longer blamed him for her father’s death. She knew that her father had been living on borrowed time. His heart had been steadily weakening all during their trip.
“Oh, Papa, I miss you so,” Mia sobbed out, feeling an emptiness inside at the thought of never seeing him or being held by him again.
All that she had ever known was gone now.
It was only herself, and…
No. She should not put Wolf Hawk into the category of someone who was now a part of her world, for she knew that he would soon set her free to go on her way, to find her way alone in the world. She should not put aside her plans for him.
Wolf Hawk was just someone taking a role in her life for a short while, and then, he, too, would be in her past. Although they both obviously had feelings for each other, he was a proud chief, and he would surely not make a white woman a permanent part of his world.
“What am I to do?” Mia said, standing and pacing.
She had eaten and felt comfortably full.
The morning air was now warm and pleasant as it wafted through the opened entrance flap, which she had brushed aside.
There was a soft fire in the fire pit, which she planned to let burn itself out. The sun was shining so bright today, she believed it was going to be one of the warmer days of spring.
“A good day to flee…” she found herself whispering.
She stepped to the entranceway and gazed out. She saw no one. The pro cession of Wolf Hawk’s people had left the village, and must have reached their burial grounds with the two fallen youths.
She had seen them being carried on two travois behind powerfully muscled horses. The bodies had been wrapped in blankets so that their faces were not visible.
But their belongings lay on each side of them, with some hanging from thin poles that had been attached to the travois. There was a drum, a pair of moccasins, and several feathers tied in a bundle.
There were more things, but she had felt they were too sad to look at. She imagined those things were to be buried with the boys. Probably they were the braves’ most precious possessions.
She choked on a sob to think of her father all alone beneath that mound of dirt. She had not even thought to bury something of his with him, as these Indians were doing.
But his most precious possession had been his pipe, and that now lay at the bottom of the river.
“I should have buried his book of poetry with him,” she whispered, gazing at it where it lay with her mother’s Bible.
She would have to leave them and all her other belongings behind, for she would have to move with speed, and could not carry anything that would slow her down.
She knew that once the burial rites were over, Wolf Hawk would come to the lodge and find her gone. She wondered how angry he would be.
Or would he be hurt? Would he feel that she had betrayed his trust?
“No matter which, I must go,” she said aloud, her decision suddenly final.
Yes, she trusted Wolf Hawk never to harm her, but she was not so sure about the other members of the village. They did not feel the same kindness toward her that Wolf Hawk felt.
She was afraid that as soon as the burial of the two fallen youths was over, these people would center their attention on her. They would hold her to blame for the boys’ deaths.
She had no choice but to leave.
