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But when she was well enough to ride a long distance, she would not stop until she found her daughter. And although Shirleen was not skilled with firearms, she would use one to rescue Megan if need be.
Now they had arrived in the midst of the village, where women and children and many elderly people stopped to stare at her. Shirleen kept her eyes locked straight ahead. She was afraid to look into the eyes of those who lived in the village, for she was white, and most whites were hated by Indians.
Most warriors who had stayed behind paid her no heed, but watched their chief until he drew rein before the largest tepee in the village.
Blue Thunder dismounted and smiled at the warriors who greeted him, then nodded toward the edge of the village, where the rescued horses were being led into a corral.
“Go. There are many captured horses,” he said. “Divide them among yourselves.”
When the men looked questioningly at him, he added, “Our mission was successful. Our friend Gray Eyes’ stolen warriors are soon to be reunited with their families.”
“And what of Big Nose?” one of the warriors asked anxiously. “Has he been stopped forever?”
Blue Thunder kneaded his chin, gazed down at the ground, then raised his eyes slowly again. “He was not among the fallen renegades,” he said, regretting that he had lost the opportunity to question Big Nose about Shawnta’s death. “Somehow he escaped our wrath. But he will be brought to justice one day. I promise you that.”
He noticed how his warriors’ eyes now went to Shirleen, then turned again to him in question.
“I have not brought a captive white woman among us,” Blue Thunder said, going to Shirleen and helping her from the horse.
He gently placed a hand at her elbow and walked her closer to the men, who were now being joined by women and children. “This woman was being forced into captivity by Big Nose and his renegades,” he said softly.
“Why have you brought her among us?” one of the warriors asked.
“And how long will she be with us?” one of the women asked quickly.
“She is here only for our shaman to see to her wound. She was injured on her head by the renegades,” Blue Thunder said, indicating the dried blood in Shirleen’s hair. “She survived the wound, but it needs medicine so that it will completely heal.”
He gazed at the woman who had asked the question about how long Shirleen would be among them. “She will stay only long enough for her wound to heal, and then she will be free to go,” he said, yet his heart was not in his words.
He felt protective of her and even more than that.
His fascination with her had aroused needs that he had not allowed himself to feel while in the presence of any woman, white or redskinned, since the death of his precious wife, Shawnta. Since her death, he had put all his energy into fulfilling his duties as chief.
But now?
He was beginning to feel the need to have a woman in his life again.
And if it was this white woman who sparked such need, so be it!
But he now had to make her understand that she was safe among his people. And the fact that he no longer saw resentment or hate in her eyes made him hope that he might be able to reach inside her heart.
“Come with me,” Blue Thunder said as he led Shirleen away from everyone. “After I decided to bring you to my village, I sent a warrior ahead to make certain a tepee was prepared for you. It is not as fancy as you are probably accustomed to in your white world, but it should be comfortable enough for you as you recover from the head wound.”
Shirleen was struck anew by his kindness, by his gentleness toward her.
He took her by the elbow and led her past his tepee to a beautiful lodge set at a little distance from the others. It was much smaller than his, but it was enough for her.
Blue Thunder held aside the entrance flap. He nodded toward the opening. Not at all afraid or apprehensive, Shirleen stepped lightly past him.
Just inside the tepee, she stopped and gazed around her. It was most certainly smaller than the others she had seen in the village, and there was nothing in the tepee, only an earthen floor and rocks positioned in a circle of dug-out earth in the middle of the tepee. The rocks were situated beneath a smoke hole, so she knew that this must be the Indian firepit she had heard about.
Suddenly she realized that she was alone. While she had been so absorbed in looking around her, the man who had brought her there had left the tepee.
She heard his voice just outside the entrance. He was telling one of his warriors in English to stand guard outside her lodge.
Suddenly she no longer felt so much at ease. Why was she being guarded?
She had heard tales of Indian captives, and she shivered at the thought of what usually happened to those captive women.
