“Even though you were spoken for by Harold?” Kit asked, sighing.
“Perhaps Harold still regarded me possessively,” Leonida softly explained. “But I did not feel the same toward him, ever. My father arranged the marriage. As you saw, I was on the stagecoach leaving Harold. That was explanation enough to him, I thought, as to why. I could never marry a man like him. I don’t even know now why I ever allowed my father to persuade me that it might work between myself and that . . . and that cad.”
“I see,” Kit said, then put a hand gently on her shoulder. “I shall make Harold understand things.” He cleared his throat nervously. “I wish you much happiness, yet I don’t see how it can be achieved living the life of an Indian.”
“As Sage’s wife, I could not be happier,” Leonida murmured. “Whatever obstacles get in the way, Sage and I will work them out together.”
Runner burst into the wigwam, crying. Leonida caught him up into her arms as he made a lunge for her.
“What’s the matter, sweetie?” she asked, brushing tears from his cheeks.
“Adam is leaving,” Runner wailed. “He can’t leave. He’s my best friend!”
Leonida felt trapped, not knowing what to say that might alleviate his pain. He had already lost his mother. And now his best friend was leaving him? To a small child, a best friend was something like a lifeline. They depended on each other for sharing their secrets and for so many more things.
And she was afraid that his next words would be—to allow him to go with Adam, to return to the ways of the white world instead of living like an Indian!
“You should be happy instead of sad that Adam and his mother are able to return now to their loved ones,” Leonida tried to explain. “Don’t you know that Adam’s father is worried sick over him? If anything happened to you, Sage and I would hardly be able to bear it. It is the same with Adam. His father will be so happy when he has his son back with him. Adam will be as happy to be with his father. And Adam’s mother. You want her to be happy, don’t you? She’s going to be reunited with her husband. That is like if I had been gone for a long time and I was finally able to return to Sage. Can’t you see? It is the same for Adam and his mother and father.”
Kit smiled from Leonida to Runner, then left the wigwam.
Runner sniffed and gazed up at Leonida. “Will I ever see him again?” he asked in his soft little voice.
“I’m certain of it,” Leonida said, relieved that he, as usual, was adapting quickly to change. “In fact, I will see to it, my darling Runner, that one day you two will play again together. It might be several years before this can be achieved, but, sweetie, you will see Adam again.”
Runner snaked his tiny arms around Leonida’s neck and hugged her. “I love you,” he said, then wriggled free of her arms. “I’ve got to go and tell Adam that we will see one another again. That will make him so happy!”
Leonida smiled, inhaled a relieved breath and gave a small prayer of thank-you to her Lord, then left the wigwam. When she got outside, she stood watching for a moment as the women and children packed up things that the Indian women had given them as gifts of remembrance. Tears came to her eyes as she watched these women of different skin colors hug one another, some crying, truly hating to leave one another.
Then Sally came to Leonida and embraced her, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was so wrong about so many things,” she murmured. “Forgive me?”
“Forgiven,” Leonida said, returning the embrace. “This isn’t a final good-bye. I’ve promised Runner that he will play with Adam again. I’m not certain how, or when, but I will see that my promise is kept to that youngster.”
“I will look forward to the day we meet again,” Sally said, hugging Leonida again. Then she fell in step with the other women as they began walking toward the horses assigned to them, their children riding in the same saddle with their parents.
Leonida rushed to Sage’s side. Runner came and clung to Leonida. His eyes were wide and he was biting his lower lip to keep from crying as he waved a last time to Adam.
Kit turned and saluted Sage, winked at Leonida, then urged his horse into a soft trot through the camp, the women and children behind them, the Navaho warriors riding alongside, in groups of threes.
Soon the horses’ hooves could no longer be heard. The Navaho women stood silently craning their necks to get a last look, and then returned to their chores of cooking, washing clothes, and putting wood on their campfires.
“Well, that’s that,” Leonida said, sighing. She smiled up at Sage. “It’s going to work out, darling. I know it is.”
Sage did not respond. His jaw was tight and he was staring into the distance. Leonida had to wonder if he was already regretting his decision to let Kit Carson go. Sage had to know that without Kit, he no longer had his trump card.
Chapter 30
I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire.
—ERNEST DAWSON
The journey to Fort Defiance had been a long and grueling one for Kit Carson. Halfway there, he began to feel ill, yet he could not put his finger on what was wrong. Slowly his energy drained from him and he needed to stop more often than he wished to catch a wink of sleep. He was needing more rest than had ever been required of him before.
He was sitting in Harold’s office listlessly as they discussed the events of the past few weeks. Kit scarcely heard what Harold said, and his temples were pounding.
Harold sat behind his desk. He noticed Kit’s lethargy, yet thought it was because of the long journey and the imprisonment that he had endured.