Savage Dawn

himself, testing the sound of the title as it passed his lips.

Again he smiled. “Ho, I like it,” he whispered. “And so shall everyone else when they have no other choice but to accept me as their chief.”

He fought off the guilt that came with actually wishing his brother would die.

Spirit Wolf had never shown any outward signs of resenting his brother; he knew those who witnessed such behavior would turn their backs on him in disgust.

So he had carried this secret well guarded inside his heart; even his brother had never seen any hint of resentment when he looked at Spirit Wolf.

Ho, now was the time for Spirit Wolf to be the object of everyone’s attention. Even those who were the most devoted to their true chief, Eagle Wolf, would see the worth of his younger brother.

Spirit Wolf had cleverly aligned himself with warriors who he knew could be encouraged to follow his leadership, no matter what. If Eagle Wolf did live and return take up his old position, it would be brother against brother.

Spirit Wolf planned to be the victor!

He looked one last time around him, at the big new tepee. If his brother did return, this new lodge would be his, at least until Spirit Wolf got brave enough to do what he must to take leadership from his brother.

But for now, Spirit Wolf had another place to be. His own new lodge, which had also recently been erected. He would return to it and to his new bride.

When his people had fled to this mountain hideaway they had been joined by members of a different clan who were rescued along with Spirit Wolf’s own people and brought to live among them.

Spirit Wolf had chosen a young and beautiful maiden from among those people. He had married her. He saw in her the perfect wife who would bear him many sons. To him, sons were far more important than daughters; it was necessary to have enough men to defend the future of their clan.

Oh, but he did love his new bride. She was the only person in his life who had ever won his loyalty. Spirit Wolf had grown to love her, with a love so overwhelming, he knew that this woman was the most positive force in his life right now.

This beautiful, delicate creative, whom he loved with every fiber of his being, was his now, no matter what else happened in his life. And she had a name that matched her loveliness.

Her name was Dancing Snow Feather!

Chapter Six

The campfire burned softly as the meat of a deer cooked on a spit over it, thick and juicy.

Sam Partain and his gang were washing in the river not far from the clearing where the food cooked and their horses were tethered.

They were laughing and splashing each other as they bathed the smell of death and smoke from their bodies.

“We got the son of a gun,” bragged Ace, one of Sam’s men, his long stringy black hair resting on his shiny, wet, muscled shoulders. “Did you see the look in that gambler’s eyes when you first shot his wife in the head, then aimed the gun at him? You’ve been itchin’ to kill that son of a gun for a long time, and you did, Sam. Good for you. Good for you.”

“He didn’t die all that quickly,” Sam grumbled as he ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. He was a tall, thin man, with shaggy whiskers. “If I had it to do over, I’d have shot him again in order to keep him from taking hold of his wife’s hand like he did. I wanted him to spend eternity alone, damn him.”

“The main thing to be glad of is that no one is left alive to tell what we did, and that we are far enough away from that stinking town not to be blamed for the killings,” Ace said. “As it is, there ain’t no chance in hell of anyone bein’ on our trail, because we made certain that everyone was dead.”

“But there is one thing left undone,” Sam said as he climbed from the river and squeezed water from his hair.

“And what’s that?” asked Tom, another one of the gang members, as he climbed out and stood beside Sam.

“The daughter of that cheatin’ polecat gambler,” Sam said, stepping into his breeches, and then pulling a shirt over his head.

“Why mess with her?” Tom asked as he quickly dressed, too. “We’re lucky we got away with what we done with no one bein’ the wiser. Why take the risk of searchin’ for the woman?”

“Because I am a gambler, that’s why,” Sam growled as he sauntered over to the campfire and pressed a finger into the hot meat, checking it for tenderness.

“We’re better off the way we left things,” Ace said, sitting down on a blanket and pulling his boots on as the other men came from the river, water running from their flesh.

“I ain’t gonna rest until I complete my mission,” Sam said, sitting and pulling his own boots on.

“Mission?” Ace asked, squinting his eyes.