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“Yes, I am an independent person,” Stephanie said, as he rolled away from her to lie beside her.
“And in my independent logic I have made a choice,” she said matter-of-factly. “It is to marry you and be your wife. That will be my career by choice. Not because you gave me an ultimatum.”
“I believe I am smarter than to ever give you ultimatums,” he said, chuckling as he ran a hand over her hip.
“I’m never going to give you cause to even want to,” Stephanie said, rolling against him. She threw a leg over him and drew him against her. “I’m going to make you an absolutely perfect wife.”
“There are only two things missing in my happiness at this moment,” Runner said, holding her close.
“Pure Blossom,” Stephanie said sullenly. “Pure Blossom’s tragic affair with Adam.” She paused and swallowed hard. “And Little Jimmy.”
“Yes, Pure Blossom,” Runner said, gazing hauntedly into the fire. “And . . . Jimmy. . . .”
Pure Blossom rode to the brink of a cliff which plunged into a chasm cut by an ancient stream. Its boulder-strewn bed held only a narrow trickle of water, more than one hundred feet below. She drew a tight rein, dismounted, and draped her horse’s reins over a low limb of a cottonwood tree and went and sat down beside a stream.
Leaning over, she stared at her reflection in the water, then angrily and without control, she began pummeling her fists into the water. She had wanted to erase all signs of herself, instead she succeeded mainly in making herself look more distorted than before as the ripples played and moved on her reflection.
“I hate you!” she cried at her reflection. “Why were you ever born?”
A rattling sound that she was familiar with made her grow cold with a sudden fear. When she turned to see where the rattlesnake might be, she screamed; the rattler struck at her and sank its venom into one of her ankles.
“E-do-tano, no!” she shouted, as the rattlesnake scurried away from her in the dust. “I truly didn’t mean it. I don’t want to die!”
She grasped onto her throbbing ankle. A wave of weakness ran through her as she started to collapse onto the ground.
She closed her eyes, then blinked them open momentarily when through her veiled tears and the haziness of her blurred vision she saw a hand reaching toward her.
Caught between strong arms she smiled, for she recognized the one who had come to he
r rescue. She felt blessed that the color of his skin was the same as hers. Somehow, after having become enamored with Adam, she had managed to forget this handsome Navaho.
“Gray Moon?” she whispered, then floated away into a tunnel of darkness.
Chapter 32
Love took you by the hand
At eve, and bade you stand
Where I should pass.
—JOHN NICHOLS
Stephanie walked slowly toward her horse, finding it hard to leave Runner’s village. She feared that if she entered that other world she had known before him, something might keep her there. Perhaps she might even be tempted to go back on her word and send the photographs back to Wichita.
She had to prove to herself that she was strong enough to withstand such temptations. She knew deep inside her heart that her love for Runner was much stronger than her need to continue dabbling in photography.
Runner stepped up beside her and lifted her into her saddle. “I will go with you and stay with you until you set things right in your life before returning,” he said as he gazed up at her with his midnight dark eyes. “As you know, word has spread about Damon Stout fleeing the law and going into hiding. It would be dangerous for you to be alone while he is free to wreak havoc on our lives.”
“I know that you feel that way, but I’ll be all right,” she said, taking her reins into her hands. “You have responsibilities here. There’s Pure Blossom; she hasn’t returned. Don’t you think that you should go and look for her to see if she is all right?” She rested her hand on her holstered derringer. “She is far more vulnerable than I.”
Runner turned and gazed into the distance, past his village. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She has been gone for too long now,” he said, his voice drawn. Then he swung himself into his saddle and grabbed up his reins. “I will go and look for her. You will go with me. After we find her and escort her safely back to her hogan, I will then ride with you to your train.” He smiled over at her. “My woman, there is no need in arguing. This man who loves you will not let you out of his sight until Damon Stout is found and placed behind bars.”
“I love feeling so protected,” Stephanie said, returning the smile. “It’s wonderful that you also feel as protective of your sister. Let’s go, Runner. Let’s go and find her.”
Her words had scarcely crossed her lips when, at the far side of the village, she saw a horseman arriving, a travois attached to the horse by two long poles dragging behind.
“What on earth . . . ?” Stephanie said.
