Desperation seized Leonida’s insides. “You can’t have him,” she said in a rush, “I mean to say, he has no living relatives. Before she died, Carole asked me to raise him as if he were my own child. I gave my word that I would. And, Kit, I never break a promise to anyone.”
For a moment there was a strained silence, then Kit nodded. “I am sure you will make a good mother,” he said in an unconvincing voice. “But there is the fact that you are now married to Sage. The child will have no means to acquire an education.” He cleared his throat. “And, Leonida, he will be raised to learn the customs of the Navaho, instead of—”
“I am already teaching him how to read and write,” Leonida interrupted. There was now at least a measure of peace between Sage and Kit. She wished to get these discussions over with and get Kit on his way before something was said that would cause Sage to change his mind.
“And to live with the Navaho, one must learn their customs,” Leonida continued. “He is adapting well. And he is happy. Isn’t that all that matters?”
Kit kneaded his chin, then nodded. “The child has suffered a great loss,” he said. “And if you have the ability to lift him up from his grieving and be happy, so be it. Who am I to argue against something that is obviously right for the child?”
“My wife is very right for the child,” Sage said. His voice and his smile were soft as he cast a quick glance toward Leonida.
Then his eyes narrowed as he turned his conversation back to the business at hand. “You have said that you will plead the Navaho cause with your President,” he said. “That is good and I am grateful. But there is one more thing that we have not discussed.”
“And that is?” Kit said, leaning forward.
“Those Navaho who came down from the mountain and surrendered to the soldiers,” Sage said smoothly. “A part of the terms of my releasing you is that you promise to release those of my people who foolishly joined you to go to the reservation.”
Kit’s jaw tightened. He straightened his back and placed his hands on his knees again. “You have already promised my release,” he said, his voice drawn. “You said nothing then of further terms of my release.”
“It is being said now,” Sage said flatly.
Kit inhaled a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sage,” he said softly. “That’s impossible. Those Navaho surrendered. They did it willingly. This is something that cannot be reversed. It is by the order of the President that they are going to the reservation. It is not an easy task changing the President’s mind. I will be waging perhaps a private war between myself and the President when I go and argue your case. Let us leave it at that, Sage, or all might be lost and I may be forced to hunt you down again.”
Kit paused. “Think of those of your people who stood devotedly by you,” he then said. “They deserve to have a chance. I am giving them and you a chance to escape to a new land. Let me and the captives go now without requiring promises of me that I cannot keep.”
Sage gave this much thought. He was unhappy about getting only half of that which he had demanded from Kit Carson, yet he knew that what Kit had said was true. If Sage insisted on the release of those Navaho who had turned their back on their chief, he might be endangering the rest of his beloved, strongly devoted people. It did not seem a risk worth taking.
“Go,” he said, rising to his feet. “You are free to leave. Take the captives with you.”
Leonida rose slowly to her feet, relief flooding through her.
Kit got to his feet and went to Sage. He looked questioningly into Sage’s dark eyes, then without further thought embraced Sage affectionately. “My friend,” he said. “It is good to be able to call you that again.”
Sage returned the hug, then stepped away. “Friendships last as long as trust is maintained between two people,” he said. “I will go now and speak to my warriors about your return to your people. Many will escort you and the women and children. Horses will be loaned you until you reach your people.”
“That is very considerate of you,” Kit said. “Thank you, Sage. I truly appreciate it.”
Sage turned and left.
Leonida went to Kit. “Thank you for everything,” she said, then without hesitation gave him a hug. “Thank you for understanding what freedom means to Sage and his people.”
“I have always understood the meaning of freedom for all Indians,” Kit said. “Most of my adult life has been spent trying to make wrongs right between the white and Indian communities. Of late, though, it has become almost impossible. There are so many settlers rushing west for land and a new way of life. The Indians are in the way. Navaholand is now populated more with people who have white skin than those with red. Washington wanted it this way.” He shrugged. “I’m one man and I take my orders from Washington. What else can I say?”
Leonida clutched his arm strongly. “Please do all that you can to assure Sage’s freedom,” she begged. “He deserves no less and you know it.”
“All that I c
an say is that I will try my damnedest,” Kit said. He gazed into her eyes. “What am I to tell Harold when I get back to the fort?”
Leonida flinched and drew her hand back to herself. The sudden mention of Harold caught her off guard. “Harold?” she murmured. “Lord, I had completely forgotten about him.” She ran her fingers through her hair nervously, then lifted her chin proudly. “Tell him the truth, Kit. Tell him that I am now married to Sage. It isn’t fair to let him think that he might still have a chance with me.”
“How did this marriage come about?” Kit asked, clasping his hands behind him. “You were among those taken captive, were you not?”
“Yes, I was,” Leonida said. “But not intentionally. Sage had no idea I was on that stagecoach.”
“What difference did it make if he did or not know?” Kit further questioned.
“You see, we had met before,” she said, blushing. “We had been attracted to one another before the stagecoach holdup. When we were thrown together as we were traveling toward his stronghold, our true feelings for one another surfaced. We were married shortly after we reached his stronghold.”