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Yep, he was going to make Mia pay for treating him as though he was beneath her. No one treated Tiny Brown like that and got away with it.
Mia grew cold inside when she saw Tiny glaring at her lovely bird, and then giving her a slow sort of knowing glance.
She was afraid that he had something on his mind now besides cards. But surely she was wrong. He might be a man she despised, but she could not believe he would take his spite out on her lovely Georgina.
She went back and sat in the shade of the shed beside the birdcage. Georgina hopped closer to her and began singing again, this time even more beautifully than before.
“Oh, Georgina, what would I do without you?” Mia whispered.
Yes, ever since her mama’s death, she had found a measure of peace listening to the canary’s sweet song. She just wished the little bird had the same effect on her father.
She glanced at him now and saw how lost and alone he seemed without his wife.
She worried about the shortness of breath and chest pain he was so prone to having.
She was afraid that one of these days he would have a massive heart attack, and then she would be all alone in the world except for her canary.
She looked heavenward and said a soft prayer that she hoped would get her through these difficult time
s, praying especially to have the strength not to worry so much.
She gazed out upon the loveliness of the land the scow was gliding past.
Then she thought of that Indian who’d stood on that bluff, with his bow and arrow and hate in his heart for whites.
She knew that where there was one Indian, there were surely more, yet she had not seen hide nor hair of any others since that one warrior had taken her mother’s life.
“Mia, bring me my pipe and tobacco,” her father suddenly said, drawing her attention back to him.
“Yes, Papa,” she murmured, scurrying to do something that she knew would make him feel better, at least for the moment. He loved his pipe sometimes more than food.
She took his pipe and bag of tobacco to him and watched him prepare the pipe, then leisurely smoke it.
“Ain’t cha going to share that with me?” Tiny said, laughing sarcastically.
Harry frowned at Tiny. “Not on your life,” he growled out. “Not on your life.”
Another shiver passed through Mia, for she felt certain that Tiny was up to no good. This sarcasm seemed to signal a change of attitude, for he never did anything to openly aggravate her father. He had tried not to get on her father’s bad side.
It seemed he knew that he wouldn’t be a part of their lives for much longer.
She wondered just how much Tiny had heard when she’d been discussing him with her father.
Chapter Three
What we behold is censored by our eyes,
Where both deliberate, the love is slight.
Whoever loved, that loved not at first sight?
—Christopher Marlowe
The birdsongs in the trees had stilled. Even the breeze seemed to hold its breath as two whiskered men, dressed in denim breeches and faded plaid shirts, slunk through the forest.
Each carried a rifle, and their squinting eyes searched avidly for the traps they had placed there earlier in the day.
It was very rare for them to forget where they had set their traps, but this time, they had decided to go far beyond their usual trapping lines, and they had become disoriented in the unfamiliar territory.
