Swift Horse

“The horse’s tracks from where you left the one-eyed man will lead us back to him,” Swift Horse said. “Come. We shall follow them. We will find him.”

Marsha silently prayed that One Eye would still be there. Finally Swift Horse would know he was the one-eyed man. Finally the proof would be there, staring him in the face.

Marsha got One Eye’s horse. She walked beside Swift Horse as his eyes stayed glued to the ground as he walked his own steed, following the tracks. They wandered onward, and then Marsha grabbed at Swift Horse’s arm.

“The creek,” she said tightly. “Over there. That’s where you will find him.”

“There are many creeks . . .” Swift Horse said, gazing into her eyes.

“I know, but I’m almost certain this is where it happened,” she murmured, the sound of the owl still making its eerie night call convincing her.

They walked onward, then Marsha stopped and stared blankly where she had left One Eye, the bloody rock proving that this was absolutely where she had left him—but he was gone!

“He’s still alive,” she gasped out, paling at the very thought of him still out there ready to wreak more havoc, and surely more eager to kill her now than before. She, a woman, had bested him.

She looked desperately at Swift Horse. “He’s alive—and gone,” she said, her voice drawn.

“For now it is enough that you are alive and well,” he said quickly, grabbing Marsha against him, holding her tightly. “My woman, had that man killed you . . .”

“I’m fine,” she softly explained.

Their lips came together in a quivering, warm and sweet kiss, but Marsha could not keep her mind on the kiss or embrace. She could not help but fear One Eye’s escape.

Oh, Lord . . . where was he?

Chapter 25

That was all I meant,

—To be just

And the passion I had raised,

To content.

—Robert Browning

Edward James stood staring at Marsha’s sewing basket. “Where is Marsha?” he said thickly, not certain now what to do. When he had arrived home and found her sewing equipment spilled at the foot of the chair where she always sat and sewed before the fire, panic had grabbed at his gut.

His sister was too particular to have left her thread and sewing needles on the floor. They were there because someone had come in after he had left his sister to visit Soft Wind.

Someone had abducted her!

He had hurried to Swift Horse’s cabin to seek his help, or to see if, just by chance, Marsha was there. Perhaps Swift Horse had discovered her missing, as well, and had gone and found her. But when Edward James had found no one at Swift Horse’s cabin and had seen that his favorite steed was gone, he could only assume that Swift Horse was out there searching for Marsha and the man who abducted her.

Edward James began pacing, then stopped and lifted a log onto the fire. He turned and gazed at the back door. He knew Marsha had double-bolted it. That had to mean that whoever came uninvited came through his store.

He doubled a fist and raised it in the air. “How could I be so foolish to think no one would come into my store at night?” he shouted, his face hot with anger. “Threats mean nothing to those who have an agenda. Tonight that agenda was my sister!”

He thought about who might have taken her and came up with two prospects.

The cowkeeper, who had come to claim his reward after saving her from the fire.

And then there was the one-eyed man who might have heard that she was hell-bent on finding him and making him pay for his crimes.

“And what if that one-eyed man is One Eye?” he whispered harshly, lowering his hand to his side.

He shuddered at the thought of that possibility, and remembered how he had ignored his sister when she had said that he was the one who had murdered their parents. If One Eye was the culprit, he could be the one to have done this asinine deed tonight, to silence her.