Savage Tempest

Her eyes were wide and tears spilled from them as she gazed into his.

“You cry,” High Hawk said, wiping tears from her face with his thumb. “Do you regret having stayed? Do you regret what you now see?”

“No. It is just that seeing Mole again has brought such terrible memories to mind,” she said, glancing again at the outlaw’s body.

“He will not touch you again, nor will he harm innocent white people, or red,” High Hawk said.

He gazed past her into the darker depths of the forest, then into her eyes again. “One soldier escaped,” he said. “That means trouble for my people.”

“What do you mean?” Joylynn asked.

“If the escaped soldier is not found, he will carry news of today’s ambush to those in charge,” High Hawk said. “I must see that my people do not suffer because of what had to be done today.”

“What can you do?” Joylynn asked, placing a gentle hand on his smooth, copper cheek. She ached inside to see the torment in his eyes.

“We must return home quickly and prepare my people for a quick departure to a place where they can hide from the pony soldiers,” High Hawk said. “Ho, when that soldier arrives at his fort and explains what happened today, the pony soldiers will come in large numbers, looking for High Hawk and his warriors. Not only that. They will slaughter my entire Wolf band.”

“Your warriors will surely find him,” Joylynn said, horrified at the thought of what High Hawk now feared.

“Even so, once the bodies of these downed soldiers are found, I fear there will be trouble,” he said. He gazed at her rifle and saw that it had not been fired. “I am glad you did not fire upon the whites. That means that if they ever catch us, they cannot fault you for what happened. They will, instead, see you as my captive and will take you with them, thinking they have saved you from a ‘savage.’”

Joylynn dropped her rifle and flung herself into his arms. “I can never leave you, not for any reason,” she sobbed, clinging to him. “You are my life, High Hawk. You are my very breath and heartbeat.”

“As you are mine,” he said, gently holding her. “That is why we must leave quickly for the mountains. I have always known this would happen, that a time would come when my people would be forced to seek shelter away from the white eyes. I have searched and found the place where more children will be born into our band, and where those who are children now will grow up and have children of their own.”

“You already know where you will go?” Joylynn asked. “You knew this might happen?”

“Always,” High Hawk said, again drawing her close and hugging her.

Suddenly there was the sound of horses arriving.

Joylynn’s heart skipped a beat. Had the sound of gunshots brought someone to investigate already?

But soon the two warriors who’d been sent to find the escaped soldier came into view. They rode up to High Hawk.

“He is long gone,” one of them said. “We traced his tracks, then lost them in the river. He has apparently gotten far ahead of us.”

“Then we must hurry home and prepare for our departure immediately. Once that soldier arrives at his fort, and reports what happened, the white eyes will be out for blood . . . ours,” he said. “Hurry home. Prepare your families quickly for departure. You know where we are going. I have met in council with you and told you.”

He turned and looked at the stack of rifles, and at others lying beside the dead men.

He gave his warriors a tight-jawed look. “Before we head for home, gather up all the rifles you can find among the dead, as well as those stacked there. They are now ours. If the white eyes find us, we will use their own firearms against them.”

The warriors nodded, and after gathering up the rifles, hurried to their picketed horses.

Joylynn took one last look at Mole, not allowing herself to again relive the rape, t

hen smiled and ran alongside High Hawk until they reached their horses.

Soon they were riding hard toward their village, knowing that time was now their enemy.

“Although I hate to leave the village where my people have lived for generations, where our ancestors are buried, the place I will lead my people to now is a paradise,” High Hawk said to Joylynn. “It is a place where our children will be born and raised without the fear of white eyes waiting to shoot them in the back.”

“Wherever you are will be the right place for me, a true paradise,” Joylynn replied, smiling. His answering smile brought a wonderful warmth into her heart, helping erase the memories of blood and death they were leaving behind them.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The village was a sad sight to behold. Only yesterday the Pawnee had been a content people. With their crops harvested and placed in cache pots, with much meat put aside, as well as warm clothes made from newly tanned buckskin, they were well-prepared for the cold winter ahead.