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“Those eyes. They’re the color of liquid gold. I only know of two others who had eyes like those.”
“Who?” Raven asked, wondering why it mattered.
“My father”—the older man’s eyes softened and he stared at Bear’s face with a look of longing—“and my son.”
Chapter Thirteen
Raven steadied his breathing, forced his mouth closed when it wanted to drop open. He looked to Bear, who spoke no words as Ella’s father continued to gaze at him. “Naomi.”
“Bobby”—the older woman touched her fingers to her lips—“it can’t be.”
“This man is our son.” Ella’s father turned to Raven and Standing Elk. His handsome face burned red with anger. His amber eyes darkened and glowed.
Raven blinked. For a moment, time turned backward, and he recalled finding Bear, soon after his first vision quest, standing in the face of an Indian boy who dared to say he wasn’t a true Lakota. The flesh on his face had burned scarlet and his eyes had darkened to an amber not unlike Robert Morgan’s.
The man was tall and muscular like Bear. His hair was the same light brown of chestnuts.
No. No, it cannot be.
Robert Morgan’s hands curled into fists and he walked toward Standing Elk. His teeth clenched, his voice even lower, even icier, he said, “You stole my son, you heathen redskin.”
Bear moved in front of Raven and Standing Elk. “You will not speak to my father in that manner. I assure you I am not your son, white man.”
Raven fingered for his dagger at his side and then remembered Ella had asked him not to wear a weapon to their wedding. He inhaled, again forced to steady himself in the face of his pounding heart. What would he do, anyway? Threaten Ella’s father? Kill him? What would that do to his wife?
Standing Elk, though wearing a dagger, did not reach for it. He faced Ella’s father, his black stare never wavering. “I stole nothing from you or any other white man.”
“My brother wandered into our camp when he was a young boy,” Raven said. “My father took him in, adopted him as his son, and I as my brother.”
“Raven.” Standing Elk’s voice was firm.
Though he said no more, Raven ceased his explanation. He would let his father speak.
The woman, Ella’s mother, walked toward Bear, tears glistening in her amethyst eyes. They were lighter than Ella’s, Raven noticed, lighter, like the hue of the violet right before it wilted and died.
Her gaze traveled over Bear, from the top of his head to his moccasin-clad feet, and then returned to rest on his face. “Those eyes, they are David’s, and the nose, it’s mine. Mine and Ella’s. You are tall, like your father and mine. Dear God…” Her body trembled, and she fell backward into her husband’s arms. “David,” she said, and her eyes closed.
“Where is Summer Breeze?” Standing Elk said in Lakota.
“She is with Ella and Singing Dove,” Raven said.
“Fetch her,” Standing Elk said to a young warrior standing nearby. He turned to Morgan. “Your wife has fainted. Summer Breeze will see to her needs. Then you will come to my tipi, and I will tell you about my son, Wandering Bear.”
“I’ll stay with my wife,” Morgan said. “I can’t leave her.”
Standing Bear gripped Morgan’s shoulder. Morgan tensed. Just a bit, but Raven noticed.
“You forget, friend. I know how you love your wife. I was there the first time she was injured. When she lingered near death. Summer Breeze helped her then, and she will help her now. Trust me.”
“Trust you? Are you serious? You stole my child! And now you’re taking the only one I have left. Do you have any idea what this has done to Naomi? To me? Losing David nearly killed us.”
Standing Bear nodded. “I understand more than you know.”
“Raven!”
Raven turned at Ella’s voice. Ella, Singing Dove, and Summer Breeze came running.
“What’s going on?” Ella gasped when her gaze landed on her mother. “Mama? Papa, what happened to Mama?”
