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Leonida sighed and went back inside her hogan and began making flatbread from wheat flour, sickened over today’s turn of events. Hardly ever did she see her husband so adamant about anything, or as bitter.
She feared what was going to transpire these next few weeks due to his inability to accept changes to his homeland. But she knew that he would soon realize he had no choice but to again accept what he could not control, as he had learned to accept being forced onto a reservation all those years ago and so many other injustices that had been forced upon him and his people.
She saw these changes as never-ending. She knew that Sage also saw this, and feared that could make him grow old before his time.
Feeling so utterly helpless to do anything in her husband’s defense, tears splashed from Leonida’s eyes. She suddenly felt old, herself. So v
ery, very old.
Chapter 10
Fly not yet—’t is just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower,
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night,
And maids who love the moon!
—THOMAS MOORE
Stephanie savored the last light of the fading sun as her horse clattered along beside Runner’s into a narrow, shale-strewn floor of a box canyon, its one entrance almost clogged by a rubble of boulders. She was in awe of the unbelievable beauty that surrounded her. She drew a tight rein, Runner soon following her lead.
“I do understand why your people are against the railroad,” she said, turning to him. “Truly I do. Undisturbed, this land is so beautiful . . . so serene. I can imagine how you must feel when you hear the screaming of the train as the whistle echoes across the virgin land of your people.”
“Yes, I see in your eyes that you have an understanding most white people don’t have,” Runner said. He edged his horse closer to hers. “It is evident that you and Adam do not share the same blood. You are nothing at all like him.”
“Since our parents married, we have shared much in our lifetime,” Stephanie said. Her pulse raced at the mere closeness of Runner. “We have shared excitement about many things. I was even excited for him and his plans for this private railroad spur and the town that he has dreamed of since he was twelve.”
“He remembered the land as it was when he was here as a captive of my father.” Runner scowled. “Its seduction began even then.”
“I imagine so,” Stephanie said, nodding.
Runner motioned with a hand toward a bluff that was only a short ride away. “Come,” he urged softly. “Share a place with me where I have come often to watch the moon replace the sun in the sky. It is a place of quiet. It is a place that shows off the wonders of this land.”
“I would love to see it,” Stephanie said, her heart racing. She felt as though there wasn’t, nor ever could be, any animosity between them. It did not seem at all like he held her responsible for anything that Adam was planning.
Yet, there was her love of photography. Somehow that had been lost in the shuffle of conversation and heated arguments about the private spur line, and Adam’s town. But she knew that she could not elude the talk of cameras and what she wanted to do with them for much longer. Her photography equipment was there, so close. All that Runner had to do was lift the leather drop cloth and look inside her saddlebags.
She wheeled her horse around and rode with him in this twilight hour, grasping tightly to her reins and straining to keep in the saddle as he led her up a steep incline.
They finally reached the summit where the land leveled off, and where the panorama from this vantage point was well worth waiting for. The sky was all pinks and shadowed blues, darkening along the horizon where a velvet moon was just barely visible.
She rode to the very edge with Runner and looked out across the great expanse of land that was notched about by canyon openings, shadowed and dark, their craggy floors rising steeply to the rocky passes. Miles upon miles of beautiful, arid landscape lay before her, and off in the distance the mountains were the crowning glory.
There was already some snow on their peaks, glistening orange against the final, last splashes of the sunlight as it slid from view. With sundown, the wall of shadows moved slowly down from the heights. A hazy stillness was over the valley below.
“It is so peaceful,” Stephanie said, turning to Runner. She was surprised to find that he had dismounted and was at the side of her horse, offering her his arms.
Runner gazed at her loveliness, her face blushed with evening’s quiet pink. “Stay here with me for a while?” he said. His heart raced when she gave him a nod and allowed him to help her from her horse.
She slipped slowly to the ground and went with him as they tethered their horses and the pack mule under a rim of rock. She turned to him and eased into his arms as though it were a natural thing to do.
“You are so beautiful,” Runner whispered, weaving his fingers through her lustrous, long hair, drawing her lips closer to his. “It is easy to forget everything at this moment but you.”
“There is nothing but you and I,” Stephanie whispered back, sliding closer to him. She trembled as he leaned himself into the curve of her body, yet feared the torrents of feelings that were swimming through her. She feared giving herself to him as easily as she felt inclined to. She had never made love with a man before. She had never even seen a man undressed.
