Swift Horse

“I don’t think I’m ready to eat any of your cooking, Edward James,” Marsha said, giggling. She smiled up at him from her shorter height. “Big brother, I am much, much better today. Can’t you see that? I’ve come to the store for some flour. I plan to make bread.”

“No, you don’t,” Edward James said, taking her by an arm and trying to turn her back in the direction of their home, but she stayed firm. “If you won’t stay in bed, at least sit by the fire and crochet or read. Truly, sis. I know how to cook. Who do you think cooked for me before you came?”

She gave him a look he understood well. She believed that Soft Wind had been cooking for him . . . and probably many more things.

“Well, yes, Soft Wind did bring me supper now and then,” Edward said, absently running his fingers through his thick rusty-red hair. “But you have to know that wasn’t immediately after I arrived here. I didn’t know her yet.”

“I’m sure Swift Horse made certain the women of the village kept you in nourishing food,” Marsha said, then winced and reached her hand to her cheek, where her burn still pained her despite Bright Moon’s medicine.

“See there?” Edward James said, gently taking her by an arm. “You are still in pain. I’m going to take you back to the living quarters. I insist you lie down, at least for the rest of the morning. And then, if you must, prepare something simple for supper.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Marsha said, taking a step toward the door that led into their home, then stopped with a start and spun around when the front door of the store opened and then slammed closed. Her insides tightened when she saw Alan Burton standing there, the wide grin on his whiskered face revealing where one tooth was missing.

Edward James turned and his hands curved into tight fists when he saw that the cowkeeper had actually come into the trading post when he knew that he wasn’t welcome. He had become a thorn in everyone’s side in the area. Knowing just how much trouble he caused, time and again, for Swift Horse and his people, Edward James walked angrily toward the man.

Alan ignored Edward James. “Good mornin’ to you, ma’am,” he said, lifting his wide-brimmed hat from his head and going through the motions of a mock bow.

He straightened his back, his eyes still on Marsha, and still very openly ignoring Edward James’s presence. “Ma’am, I’ve come to pay my respects,” he said thickly. “It pleases me to see how well you are after the traumatic experience that you had the other day. It is good to see you up and out of bed and doing so well.”

His smile waned when he gazed at the slight burn on her right cheek. He nodded toward it. “I regret not being able to save you from that one burn,” he said. “But I feel that you are lucky if that is all that came from your moments in that circle of fire.”

He glared suddenly at Edward James, who stepped up in front of him, blocking his view of Marsha. “Step aside, storekeeper,” he said, placing a hand on Edward James’s shoulder and giving him a half shove. “I’ve come to pay my respects to your lovely sister. If you recall, it was I who saved her from that hellish fire that the Injuns set. They know the dangers. Not only does it destroy good vegetation and kill small animals, this time it almost killed your sister.”

“Give me one more shove and you’ll get a whipping you’ll never forget,” Edward James said, grabbing Alan’s wrist and moving it away from him, then releasing it. He leaned into the man’s face. “And you’d best forget your obvious intentions toward my sister. You aren’t good enough to even shine her shoes, so turn around and get outta here or be sorry for ignoring my warnings.”

“I’d be careful who you’re giving warnings to,” Alan said, yet took a step away from Edward James, an uneasiness in his beady gray eyes.

“Get this, Cowkeeper,” Edward James said, stepping closer to the man. “I’m giving you another warning, and let me see what you are going to do about it. Scat. I don’t want the likes of you at my trading post. Turn around and go back to where you came from, and while you’re at it, take my warnings about my sister with you. Forget you ever saw her. Do you hear?”

“Just like I should’ve ignored her the other day as though I didn’t see her?” Alan said, laughing throatily. “Had I not came along, she’d have died. You’re an ungrateful sort, but I didn’t expect much more than that from you. You’ve sided with the Injuns in the area. You might as well exchange blood with them and be one of ’em, yourself.”

“If you came for a thank you for what you did, all right, I’ll tell you that I am much obliged that you saved my sister,” Edward James said, sliding his hands into his front breeches pockets, something Marsha knew that her brother did when he was frustrated about something. She knew that he would have rather had his eyeteeth pulled than thank this man for anything.

“Now that’s more like it,” Alan said, smiling victoriously as he took a step to the right, which again gave him a full view of Marsha. “Ma’am, I’d appreciate it if you’d accept my invitation to sit and talk with me someday soon. My wife died not all that long ago. I’ve been mighty starved for female companionship.”

Marsha’s eyes widened in disbelief, changing to horror when she realized why this man was there. He didn’t just want their thanks for having saved her. He was actually making advances toward her.

She looked quickly at Edward James, awaiting his explosion, but she saw that although his eyes were lit with

fire, he kept his temper under control. But she didn’t know for how much longer.

“Cowkeeper, I think you’d best consider not carrying this role of ‘hero’ you’re playing much farther,” Edward James said between his clenched teeth. “Like I said, I am much obliged for you having saved my sister, but that does not give you an iota of a claim on her. In other words, Cowkeeper, neither she nor I owe you anything.”

He took a step closer to Alan again. “And had you not happened along just when you did, someone else was there to rescue her,” he said tightly. “Swift Horse was only a few feet away. Had you not been there, Swift Horse would’ve saved Marsha.”

“It does not erase the fact that I did save her, not Swift Horse,” Alan said bitterly. “And I have come to get my dues. All I want is some time with your sister, to talk, nothin’ more. Now is that askin’ too much for what I did?”

Marsha stepped up beside Edward James. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Edward James, Alan did save me,” she murmured. “I do owe him something.”

“Marsha!” Edward James gasped, paling. “What are you saying?”

She turned and faced the cowkeeper, feeling sick inside at the look of hope on his face and in his anxious eyes. He was taking what she was about to do—was about to say—in the wrong way. He was actually feeling hopeful.

“Sir, I am grateful for what you did for me,” she said softly. “But I must decline your offer. My brother is a good judge of character. Yes, I am grateful, but that is as far as any of this will go.”

“Why, you bi—” he began, but stopped short. Edward James had yanked his fists from his pockets, ready to defend his sister if she was wronged in any way.

“I should take your horse home with me and forget I rescued it for you,” Alan said bitterly.