“Who did it, Uncle Abner?” Lauralee asked, moving to touch Dancing Cloud’s face.
“Noah Brown found him. That’s all I know,” Abner said thickly. “I’m not at all surprised that Noah brought Joe to the hospital. Although Noah lost his son Brad in the war, he’s not the kind of person who’d allow a man to die of gunshot wounds, especially during these times of peace. Not even if the man who’s shot is known to have fought for the South.”
He kneaded his chin and looked over at Lauralee. “But as for who did this,” he said, his voice drawn. “Your guess is as good as mine. Noah said he heard shots. He found Joe Dancing Cloud. That’s all he had to say about it.”
Dancing Cloud moaned and his head turned to one side.
Lauralee dropped to her knees beside the bed, her heart beating anxiously. “I’m here, darling,” she murmured, again slipping her hand beneath the sheet, to intertwine with his. “Darling, oh, darling, please wake up.”
Abner’s insides splashed cold when he saw Lauralee’s devotion to the Cherokee. Now her legal guardian, Abner would never want to see her aligned with an Indian, especially one who fought against the northern cause during the war. He wanted better for her. There were many young, unmarried men in Mattoon who would make Lauralee a deserving husband.
Noah’s son Paul!
Now that was a man who was hardworking on the farm, and whose dedications to the northern cause had been the same as his brother’s.
Abner tapped Lauralee on the shoulder. “Lauralee, can you step outside in the corridor for a moment?” he asked stiffly.
Lauralee looked up at him guardedly, knowing why he wanted her to leave Dancing Cloud’s room. He had just witnessed her true feelings for the Cherokee. It was obvious that he did not approve.
“Uncle Abner, I can’t leave just yet,” she murmured. “Dancing Cloud is showing signs of awakening.”
Abner’s upper lip stiffened. His eyes narrowed, then he left the room in a dignified, slow stance.
Lauralee gazed down at Dancing Cloud again. “He’ll never understand, darling,” she whispered. She leaned down and gave him a
soft, lingering kiss. She ached inside over his lack of response.
Tears flowing down her cheeks. Lauralee scooted a chair beside the bed and waited . . . and . . . watched....
Chapter 12
When at eve, thou rovest,
By the star, thou lovest,
O then remember me!
—THOMAS MOORE
Dancing Cloud felt pressure on his hand. A sweet, soft pressure. He felt the black fuzziness floating away. A dim, golden light was beckoning his eyes to open.
But the more aware he became of things, the more he realized the depths of the pain in his right shoulder. He groaned as he fluttered his eyelashes.
Lauralee stifled a cry of relief behind a hand when she heard Dancing Cloud make a sound and saw his eyes slowly opening. She rose to her feet and leaned low over him, her hands framing his face. She smiled down at him as his eyes locked with hers.
“Darling?” Lauralee said, tears warm against her cheeks. “Dancing Cloud, I’m here. Once I knew that you were here I haven’t left your bedside.”
She so badly wanted to hug him, but the bandages around his chest and up over his right shoulder gave her reason not to. She was afraid of hurting him.
“Lauralee?” Dancing Cloud said, his voice weak. “O-ge-ye? Where am I? How did I get here?”
Lauralee dreaded telling him about the ambush. It made her feel sick inside to know that someone could resent him this much. She was not sure if the resentment centered on him being a southern Rebel, or an Indian.
Either way, she regretted that he had been a target for someone’s prejudices.
“Do you remember anything about the shooting?” Lauralee asked, easing down on the bed beside him. She gently stroked his brow. “You didn’t get far from Mattoon. A farmer . . . a Noah Brown found you.”
Remembrances then came to Dancing Cloud in flashes. He had been aware enough of things going on around him after he had been shot by Clint McCloud to recall a kind man coming to his rescue.