“Not the bear’s fault, you say?” Ella inspected the exposed flesh. “Seems to me we might be able to blame her just a little bit.”
“No. She did not…know any better. Protecting her children, as any good mother would.”
“But you would not have harmed her children.”
“She…did not know that.”
“I see. How did you get away from her?” Ella examined the wound further. The blood was already clotting. Thank goodness. The man was in no immediate danger.
“Ran.”
“You outran a bear with a wound in your leg?”
“I believe she was more interested in her cubs than in me. And I run…fast. I am a warrior. Pain does not…stop me from doing what I must do.”
“It’s doing a pretty good job stopping you now, I’d say. And what of your horse?”
“Scared. Ran away.”
“Hmph. Fine thing. Do you inspire no loyalty in your property?”
“My horse is not…my property. We don’t own animals. Or land. We—” He coughed, and his chest heaved.
“That’s enough talking for now,” Ella snapped. “I need to get this wound cleaned and bound. I’m not sure how…” She stood and looked around. “You can’t stay in here. Papa will bring the horses in when he gets home, which could be any time now. Although I still think—”
“No. No white men.”
“Goodness.” Think, Ella think. What could she do with him? Whether she helped him or not, he couldn’t stay here in the barn. Ella paced, tapping her finger to her temple. The old soddy! He’d be warm and dry there, and she could tend him until he could walk back to wherever he came from.
But how would she get him there? On the other hand, he had run from a bear. He could no doubt walk a couple hundred yards.
“Do you think you can move?” she asked. “There’s a dugout on the property not far from here. You could stay there until you can travel back to your home.”
“Hau. Yes. I will do what I must.”
“My mother is in the cabin cooking supper. We must make haste. Come.” She leaned down and offered her arm.
“I can…do it myself.” He grunted as he attempted to rise.
“Have it your own way, then.” She looked away as he continued his ascent. His handsome face twisted into a grimace. Ella couldn’t bear his pain.
“I…go now,” he said.
She turned toward him. He was standing. A little wobbly, but he was standing. “Do you need help?”
He shook his head.
“Follow me, then.” Ella strode toward the door of the barn and peeked out. No sign of her mother or her father. She motioned to him and then cautiously walked out of the barn toward the old soddy. She walked briskly and hoped he kept up. She couldn’t tell without looking back. The Indian was extraordinarily quiet for someone in pain. When they reached the dugout built into the side of a hill, she unlatched the wooden door and pulled it open.
She wrinkled her nose at the musty odor. The room was tiny, even compared to her family’s small cabin, and had only one window. She’d need to find him a lantern or something. No, she realized. A lantern would draw attention to the soddy after dark. He’d have to make do with no light.
“Here we are,” she said. “I’ll bring you a blanket and tend to your wound after I finish supper. I’m sorry there isn’t much I can do now.”
“You have…done plenty. Many thanks.” He sat down on the dirt floor, braced his back against the wall lined with straw, and grunted. “What are you called?”
“You mean my name?”
“Yes.”