Page 25 of Savage Skies


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Remembering that she still had little reason to trust him or anyone in his village, he felt it was best not to tell her anything at this time. He hoped that when he returned he would have something positive to tell her.

If he could find her little girl, how happy she would be. It would be touching to see the two reunited.

Realizing that his warriors were beginning to wonder why he was lingering there so long, Blue Thunder looked straight ahead again, flicked his reins, and rode off with his men through the village.

He was determined to find the child.

After separating into three search parties, Blue Thunder rode straight and tall in his saddle at the head of one of them, his loose, thick, black hair blowing in the wind behind him.

His eyes did not miss any movement in the grass, or behind trees, or on the hillsides they rode past.

This search was as important as any task ever undertaken by himself and his warriors.

If there was a child, somehow, some way, he would find her!

Chapter Thirteen

Be strong!

Say not: The days are evil,

Who’s to blame?

—Babcock

The day had been long.

The search had taken the Assiniboine warriors far and wide.

But they were home now, empty-handed.

Blue Thunder had eaten the evening meal with his daughter and aunt. Bathed and dressed in fresh, fringed buckskins and matching moccasins, he stepped up to the entrance flap of the lodge where the white woman named Shirleen was staying. He imagined she must be feeling downcast, missing her old life with every fiber of her being, especially her daughter.

After spending a full day searching for the child, Blue Thunder spoke Shirleen’s name before entering the lodge. He knew that she deserved as much privacy as anyone else, especially since she was in unfamiliar surroundings, at the mercy of people she did not yet trust.

Shirleen heard Blue Thunder’s voice. It made her heart do a strange leap inside her chest. She realized she felt no fear at the sound of his deep, masculine voice.

Although she did not want him to know that she had any feelings for him, she could not help feeling more and more intrigued by the man. Would he think her attraction foolish, because she was a mere white woman and he was a powerful chief?

When the young chief spoke her name again, Shirleen hurried to her feet and went to the entrance flap.

Dismayed that her hand trembled as she reached for the hide covering, she seemed to have no control over her emotions.

As she held the flap aside, the evening breeze wafted past Blue Thunder into the small tepee, and she noticed the darkening sky behind him. Shirleen did not seem to know how to talk with him, fearing she might say the wrong thing.

She only looked at him shyly as he stepped past her, not waiting for her to invite him in.

As Shirleen dropped the skin back into place and returned to the fire to sit down beside it, Blue Thunder could not help feeling disappointed. He was discouraged that the woman still chose not to speak to him.

He sat down across the fire from her, noticing the hesitancy in her expression when her eyes momentarily met his.

When she looked away from him again, fixing her gaze on the mats upon which she sat, Blue Thunder was overwhelmed by frustration.

“I have been gone most of the day with my warriors,” he suddenly blurted out. “I am going to tell you where we have been, and what we did not achieve.”

He waited for her to respond, but again she chose not to.

His frustration was building, for he truly wanted to help this woman.

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