Swift Horse

Because of a recent confrontation with Edward James Eveland, he knew that he wasn’t welcome at the trading post for a while. Looking from a distance was all that he could do at that time. Hopefully things would change now that he had rescued the woman.

He smiled slyly at that thought. Yes! A reward would be offered, and he would refuse it. Just having the opportunity to go to the trading post again, to make trade and to see the woman again, would be reward enough.

As he continued bathing her face, hoping that she would soon awaken, Alan thought about how lonely he had been since the death of his wife. This woman could be the answer to that loneliness. Surely she would be grateful enough to him to allow him to court her.

Ah, what a beautiful bed partner she would make. Now that a portion of the ash was removed from her face, Alan winced when he saw the slight burns on one cheek.

Suddenly his insides tightened when he saw her eyelashes fluttering as she slowly awakened.

She coughed throatily, then gazed up at Alan. Marsha smiled at the man and attempted to say, “Thank you,” through her parched throat, then blacked out again.

Glad that he had saved both the woman and the fawn, and that she had awakened long enough to see that he was the one who did it, Alan carried Marsha to his horse and laid her beside it. He went back for the fawn and took it and slid it inside his saddlebag, leaving its face exposed, its eyes now wide and watching. Then Alan lifted Marsha onto his lap on his horse, positioning her so that her head rested against his chest.

Smiling triumphantly, Alan knew this good deed would most certainly get him on the good side of her brother. He needed Edward James’s support against Swift Horse, to

get his way about things. He slapped his reins and rode away from the flames and smoke, then went cold inside when Swift Horse was suddenly there, blocking his way.

“Hand the woman over to me,” Swift Horse said, his dark eyes glaring at Alan. “I saw her leave her home and made chase but lost track of her until moments ago when I saw her amidst the fire.”

Alan hesitated, then said, “Absolutely not,” his jaw tight. “I saved her. I’ll take her home to her brother.”

Swift Horse edged his steed closer to Alan’s. “Cowkeeper, you do not seem to understand,” he said, with an edge to his voice. “I saw her when you saw her. You just reached her before I had the chance to. Hand the woman over to my care now, or regret it later. I will take her to her brother.”

Marsha awakened through their argument. She saw Swift Horse demanding that she be handed over to him. She had heard Swift Horse call the man Cowkeeper and then realized the company she was in. Everyone despised this man, including her brother.

She gazed up at Alan and shifted her weight in his arms. He felt her movement and looked quickly down at her.

“I would rather be returned home by Swift Horse,” she said through her parched throat. “Please be so kind as to give me over to him.”

Disgruntled, Alan saw that he had no choice. He gently placed her in Swift Horse’s arms, and the chief positioned her on his lap.

“I . . . also . . . want the fawn,” she said. She looked around her, deeply saddened to believe that White Cloud had more than likely perished in the fire.

She heard Alan grumble something to himself as he reached inside his saddlebag and slid the fawn free. Marsha reached her arms out for the tiny thing. Alan’s eyes met Marsha’s for a moment, then he placed the animal in her arms.

Alan glared at Swift Horse. He felt cheated. He would surely not reap any rewards for having saved the beautiful lady, but he would still find a way to use what he had done in his favor.

He wheeled his horse around and rode toward his home. After traveling a short distance, he spied a beautiful white horse standing at the creek, drinking freely of it.

He looked in the direction of where he had last seen the woman being taken away by Swift Horse, and smiled. This steed must be hers! He rode up to it and grabbed its reins and again headed for home.

Having something of the woman’s was certainly in his favor! Perhaps it could be used to lure her to his home. But, no! He would take it to her!

He smiled as he rode onward, glad to leave the flames and smoke behind.

Chapter 10

I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden,

Thou needest not fear mine;

My spirit is too deeply laden

Even to burthen thine.

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

Swift Horse rode toward the trading post just as Edward James stepped onto the front porch with a warrior from a neighboring village.