When Passion Calls

"Gray Falcon, Shane has brought good meat to our people," Red Raven said softly. "He has even brought cows to give our children milk. Because of Shane many lives will be spared."

Gray Falcon nodded slowly. Tears sparkled in the corners of his eyes. "That is good," he said. "Thank you, Shane." He licked his parched lips and blinked his eyes. "Oh, Shane, it is with a sad heart that I leave you! We have missed so much valuable time together because of my jealousy and spiteful ways! Will you ever truly forgive me?"

"I have forgiven you," Shane said, swallowing back the urge to cry. "Ah-pah-nay I forgive you. Do not enter the hereafter with sadness in your heart." He placed a doubled fist to his chest, over his heart. "You should enter triumphant! Your father and mother will be there to greet you! Tell them I think of them often!"

"Ay-uh, Gray Falcon will tell them," he said, his eyes closing heavily. "Sleep. I . . . must . . . sleep."

Shane placed Gray Falcon's hand on his friend's chest and rose slowly to his feet. Tears near, he turned and embraced Red Raven. "My friend," he said thickly. "My friend."

The muffled sound of horses approaching in the

snow drew Shane and Red Raven apart. They exchanged questioning glances, then left the wigwam. Shane's insides stiffened when he found himself suddenly eye to eye with Trapper Dan, who was hanging like a sack of potatoes over the back of a horse, his hands tied behind him, icicles hanging from his nostrils and his bare fingers.

Shane's gaze then moved to the trapper's legs. He should be missing one.

Shane smiled lazily when he saw a wooden peg in place of the leg that had been mangled in the trap.

Then he met Trapper Dan's steady stare again, the blue and brown eyes reminding him again of that fateful day long ago past, the day of the massacre.

"Have mercy!" Trapper Dan yelled. "I didn't mean nothin' by leavin' poison meat for the animals. The Injuns shouldn't have stole the animals from my traps! It's not my fault they did!"

"But they did, and now even Chief Gray Falcon lies near death," Shane said, taking a step closer to the trapper. "How is it that you are alive? I left you for dead!"

"A trapper friend of mine came to visit and found me," Trapper Dan said, his voice thinning. "He took me to the doctor and all that I lost was my leg, not my life!" He glowered at Shane. "No thanks to you! I should've come and cut your throat, but I thought I'd best hightail it out of your area. I came to these parts and took my chances with these heathens again! I should've known better! I ain't got a chance in hell of survivin'."

''That's correct," Shane said, looking up at the braves who flanked the horse on which Trapper Dan had been tied. "Let him down. I've a score to settle. This time I'll make sure the bastard is dead."

Trapper Dan emitted a loud shriek as he was cut loose and fell with a thud into the deep snow. He tried to get to his feet, but his wooden peg kept slipping in the snow. He stopped and looked up at Shane, trembling. "What'cha got planned for me?" he asked, his eyes wild.

"Help him up," Shane said, his eyes narrowing as two braves helped Trapper Dan from the ground. "Take him over there by the fire." He chuckled low. "We shall test his endurance."

"What?" Trapper Dan gasped, moving clumsily along as he was half dragged to the communal fire. "What 'cha goin' to do? I cain't stand pain!"

"No one likes pain," Shane said, bending to a knee to withdraw a burning twig from the fire. "Chief Gray Falcon lies near death, his insides eaten up with poison. Do you not think he is in pain?"

While the men held Trapper Dan in place and forced the fingers of one of his hands open, Shane placed the burning twig in the palm and watched the fire moving closer to the trapper's flesh. "Cry out. Give us cause to call you a woman," Shane said solemnly. "Then comes another test."

Though Trapper Dan was trembling from the fierceness of the cold, sweat began to bead up on his brow. He watched the twig burning closer, closer. He tried to shake his hand, to remove the

twig, but his hand was being held immobile by the braves.

He bit his lower lip as the fire began to burn along the flesh of his hand, sizzling as it blended with the snow and ice on it.

Then the snow and ice melted away and all that the trapper felt was the burning, searing heat of the fire!

In one powerful yank he jerked away from the braves. Now balancing himself well on his wooden peg, he grabbed a knife from the sheath of one of the braves. He twirled around and lunged for Shane, the knife poised for its death plunge.

But Shane was too quick. He had withdrawn his own knife and watched as Trapper Dan fell right onto it.

The knife completely imbedded in his clothes and stomach, Trapper Dan looked wildly up at Shane, grunting, then fell slowly to the ground, his eyes staring straight ahead in a death trance.

Shane stared down at the trapper, finding it hard to believe that this was the last time that he would ever have to look into those eyes. He took a deep breath, shook his head, and went back inside Gray Falcon's wigwam with Red Raven at his side. Together they sat down beside Gray Falcon, looking solemnly down at him.

"Is Trapper Dan truly dead this time?" Shane suddenly blurted, looking over at Red Raven. "I did kill him, didn't I, Red Raven?"

Red Raven placed a hand to Shane's shoulder. "He is dead," he said, smiling.

A slight moan drew their eyes back to Gray