Cattleman's Lament

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6-13 Available On

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Chapter Five

Frank rode into the old Johansen ranch yard when the sun wasn't quite at the noon position. The place was deserted. Based on what his father had said, he figured they had gone to find their sheep. He knew roughly where they had last been, also compliments of his father's sparse comments from the night before, and headed that way at a canter. His horse was still in good shape. He hadn't rushed, knowing he'd need a lot more out of the animal before he was done. He was amazed at the width of the trail once he found it. Cattle followed each other, mostly, when they moved naturally, making relatively narrow trails. But this was as wide as he could see. He frowned at the grass, so short that the sun would burn it if it didn't rain soon.

He set his horse in the direction the sheep had gone, and found the flock three hours later. There were dirty-white animals everywhere.

He was greeted by a dog, who ran around him in circles barking. His horse didn't much care for that and danced, almost unseating him. Running his horse didn't help. The dog was able to keep up easily, though it left off barking mostly. He saw people and horses up ahead, and a wagon that looked something like a Conestoga, but shorter and lower to the ground. He rode up fast, and skidded the horse to a stop, raising dust.

"I'm Frank Collins." he announced. "I'm here to find my sister and my mother. Do any of you know where I could do that?"

A woman was standing on the front of the wagon, holding the reins to a team of horses pulling the wagon. She had on a bonnet, but her flaming red hair spilled out of that onto her shoulders. The dog had set to barking again. He realized now it was just an adolescent, just grown out of its puppy stage.

The woman shouted at the dog. "Hush now, Zeke." The dog continued to bark. "Enid!" she yelled. "Shut that dog up!" A girl came around the wagon and jumped over the traces like they weren't even there. She was dressed in buckskin, like an Indian. Her hair was red, though not so red as the woman's, and it was done up in pigtails, while the woman's was pulled back in a bonnet. She tried to catch the dog, but it ran from her, thinking they were playing a game. The girl suddenly wilted to the ground, as if she were, without reason, unconscious. The dog immediately ran to her, sniffing at her face. She grabbed the dog in a lightning move and closed her fingers over its muzzle as it wiggled.

"Gotcha!" she said triumphantly. "You're so stupid." she said to the dog, cuddling it, her actions giving lie to the sound of her voice. She obviously loved this dog, even though she called it stupid. It subsided and went limp as she scratched its belly, splaying its legs open and showing it was a male.

The woman spoke. "Do all the Collins men ride around like chickens with their heads cut off?"

Frank had tried to impress these sheep farmers with his riding skill and the control he had over his horse. But the woman didn't seem all that impressed. He didn't know what to say. He fell back on his original statement. "I need to find my mother and sister." he repeated.

"I had hoped she was already home by now." said the woman.

"No, Ma'am." he said automatically. It rankled him to show respect to sheep people, but respect for others had been hammered into him, oddly enough, by his father.

"Then I expect they're up ahead." said the woman. My husband says there are horse tracks up the trail, heading higher. He says there are five sets, one of which belongs to our son's horse. It appears he is following your sister too, and has someone with him."

She looked at Frank and he felt like he was being inspected. Then she went on.

"That might be your mother with my son. If she was looking for your sister they may have met up and are traveling together."

Frank blinked. His mother, traveling with a sheep herder's boy? That didn't make any sense at all.

"I'd like to see these tracks you speak of." he said, for lack of anything else to say.

"I'll take him up to Papa." said the girl, dumping the puppy on the ground and letting him scamper off.

The woman looked at the girl, and then at Frank. She took a deep breath, which made her breasts push at her shirt in the most distracting manner, at least to Frank's way of thinking.

"All right, Enid." she said, though it looked like she meant to say much more.

Frank looked at the girl, who now had a name. Enid. What a strange name. She smiled at him.

"Come on, Mister Cowboy." She took off at a run, and Frank was startled. Not only did she not ride a horse, she ran like the wind. He had a sudden image of her as an Indian girl, running across the plains. He kicked his horse with his heels and the startled animal jumped, almost unseating him again before he got his seat firm again. He flushed, knowing that the woman had seen that, and blamed it on being tired. He caught up to the girl in only a few handfuls of seconds, but she only ran harder, jumping over rocks and darting between stands of brush that Frank had to ride around. He was astonished at how much ground she covered with those two puny legs.

Feeling slightly foolish, Frank let the horse drop to a quick walk, not quite a canter. Now they were going through what looked like a hallway between sheep on both sides of them. The sheep bleated and scurried out of the way. The puppy caught up to them and ran with the girl, barking happily and darting this way and that into the flock.

Enid looked over her shoulder at the puppy and stopped just as her foot contacted a rock she hadn't seen because she was looking over her shoulder. She pitched forward and ducked her head, rolling onto one shoulder into a somersault and bouncing up into the air, laughing. Then, as if nothing at all had happened, she dashed toward the puppy and scooped him up in her arms.

"Bad dog!" she growled at the wriggling dog, panting. "You don't know a damn thing about what you're doing." She looked up at Frank, who sat his horse with his mouth open. "He's a pup and he doesn't know anything yet." she said, as if that made any sense to him at all. "Come on." she said. Then she turned and, carrying the struggling hound, took off at a run again.

The sheep had closed in around them in the brief interlude, and Frank didn't know what to do. He was afraid his horse would step on one of the animals. But as he nudged his mount forward, the sheep bleated and jumped to the side, making a path that opened magically for him. Cows sure didn't act like this. His horse would have been shouldering cattle out of the way unless he yipped and swung his hat, or a rolled up lariat at them. The girl was almost a hundred yards ahead of him, still running hard, and he urged his horse faster.

Enid ran around a corner and saw her father up ahead. He was mounted, and leading Betty, the senior ewe in the flock. The rest of the sheep followed her. She saw Queen off to one side, bunching the flock toward the leader and preventing them from stopping to graze. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder and saw the boy coming around the corner. She wanted to look at him longer, but didn't want to fall again. That had embarrassed her, and she didn't want to look foolish to this boy. That thought exploded in her mind. She'd never cared about what some boy thought of her in the past. Especially a cowboy! But when she'd seen this boy her stomach had felt all fluttery, and her mouth had gone dry. She'd felt like a little girl standing in front of a man years older, even though he was obviously about her own age. He had sounded so stern ... so serious ... so ... manly.

She saw her father look over at her and knew he'd be wondering why she was running so hard. But she also knew that he could see the mounted cowboy behind her. It never occurred to her that he might suspect she was being chased.

Brad did, indeed, suspect that something was wrong. He saw Enid running like her life depended on it, holding a struggling Zeke in her arms, and then a mounted stranger burst into sight behind her. Brad's Winchester was out of its scabbard and into his hands, one hand working the lever automatically, and he started to bring the rifle up to his shoulder. Just then his horse decided to circle as Betty caught up to him and stopped. The sheep following her wandered forward, beginning to graze and surrounding his horse.

"Noooo!" He heard Enid's faint yell above the bleating of the flock. By the time he got back around and could draw a bead on the man chasing his daughter, she was within shouting distance.

"Don't shoot, Daddy" she yelled. "He's looking for that woman."

Enid ran up to her father and dropped Zeke, who ran full tilt toward his mother. Queen ignored everything except her job of keeping the sheep bunched up and moving.

"He's ... one of ... those ... Collins ... people." Enid panted, holding onto her father's stirrup to steady herself. She dragged in huge lungfuls of air, trying to get her breath.

"What's he doing chasing you?" asked Brad.

"He's ... not ... chasing me." she gasped. "He's ... following ... me. Mamma sent him ... up here."

Brad looked at the boy on the horse, and lowered his rifle, letting it rest across his lap. He had to admit the boy had sand, as he rode up to Brad and Enid. He hadn't slowed at all, even though the rifle had been pointed in his direction. Brad decided to just sit and see what happened.

Frank had indeed seen the rifle, and the electric feeling of having a weapon pointed at him had surged through his body. But as teenagers everywhere feel invulnerable from harm, he couldn't believe that anyone would want to hurt him, and he rode on anyway. His mind ran over what the man had seen, and he understood immediately what had happened. He'd have done the same thing. He rode on, stopping a few yards away from the girl and her father.

"I'm Frank Collins." he said. His prepared speech jumped into his mouth without him thinking about it. "I'm looking for my mother."

Brad was astonished to find that he immediately liked this boy. He couldn't be a day over fifteen, but he rode and acted like a man. He seemed serious beyond his years.

"There appears to be a lot of people looking for your mother." said Brad.

Frank was still hopped up from the adrenaline running through his veins from realizing he was in danger. "Your ... wife ... she said there were tracks." he said.

The man looked off to one side and whistled. Another dog, a bigger one, and the same puppy that the woman had called Zeke came running over.

Brad got down off his horse.

"Queen" he called. The larger dog ran up to him, tail wagging. "Hold!" Brad commanded. The dog turned as if she'd been shot and bounded off, the puppy trailing. Frank could see that she started circling the part of the flock that was all around them, as if there were some race she had suddenly entered. She disappeared behind a pile of boulders and Frank looked back at the man, who was standing, looking at him.

"Up ahead." the man said, turning his back on Frank and walking off to leave his horse standing. The girl followed her father.

Frank, not knowing what to do exactly, decided to ride, and he nudged his horse through the sheep that again surrounded him, and followed the two sheep farmers. As they left the flock behind, Frank looked over his shoulder to see the big dog running back and forth, between them and the flock, keeping the sheep from following their shepherd. He was amazed that one dog could control so many sheep.

The man stopped several yards away and looked down at the ground. Frank stepped down off his horse and let the reins drop. He knew the horse wouldn't move again unless he called it or remounted.

Frank saw the tracks easily. He recognized Tulip's tracks instantly and took a breath. Then he walked up to the man and bent over to look at the others. They were on a well defined path that wound its way through small trees and rocks, some as big as a horse.

The man pointed. "Those are from Bobby's horse - my son." he said, pointing. "And those over there," he pointed a few feet to one side, "I believe are from horses belonging to my men."

Frank could see it now. Now that he was closer he saw the tracks of the horse named Vixen. Three sets of tracks were together, to one side. The Circle C horses' tracks, and those of another horse with winter shoes on it - this man's son - were together to the left of the first set. Frank could see that some of his mother's tracks, and the tracks of the winter shoes, were on top of the others occasionally, meaning they had followed. But he couldn't tell whether they had all been riding together or not. He got down on his knees and looked at the right hand set. They didn't look quite as clear as the others, with grains of dust crumbling from the edges into the deeper impressions. He saw that one of the horses was more heavily loaded than the other, but that might only mean a bigger man rode that horse.

Then he looked at his mother's tracks. They were cleaner, with less dust in them. Vixen's tracks were deeper than those of Tulip, which was his mother's horse. "My mother was following those two." he said, pointing to the tracks Brad had identified as his men's tracks. "Your son was either with her, or she was right behind him. He based that on the fact that his mother's tracks sometimes were on top of the winter shoed horse, which were just as clean and clear.

"I was thinking the same." said Brad. "What I don't know is why she'd think your sister was with my men."

"See how your son's tracks go mostly beside the others?" Frank pointed. "And how my mother's seem to follow his?" Frank pointed to one of Tulip's prints on top of the one left by a winter shoe. "I think your son was tracking those two, and she was following him. I can't tell if she was riding Vixen or Tulip, though. I think maybe she brought a horse along for my sister to ride when they found her.

"Then Bobby must think your sister is with my men too." said Brad. "He left the flock alone with just the dog, and he wouldn't have done that unless he thought your sister was in some kind of danger."

"My sister's horse was shot." said Frank heavily.

Brad knew that already, but didn't say anything. "Well they're up ahead somewhere." said Brad. "And so are my men. They shouldn't have left the flock either. I don't know what's going on here, but I don't like it one bit." Brad looked at Frank. "Where's your father? You aren't out here alone are you?"

What Frank wanted to say was that his father was wasting time back at the ranch, but he didn't want to air any dirty laundry in front of this sheep farmer. He also felt the sting of another adult treating him like a child, but he bit off the retort that sprang to his mind. "He sent me on ahead to find the trail." he said, trying to make it sound like he was important.

Brad heard the lie, but couldn't figure out why the boy would tell it to him. "Well, there's the trail. We can't follow it as fast as I'd like with the flock along, but it doesn't look like rain. I figure we'll catch up with them sooner or later and find out what in tarnation is going on."

"I'm not waiting." said Frank. "I mean to find out what's going on and I mean to find out soon." He said defiantly.

"I'll go with him." said Enid suddenly.

Both men looked at her and she blushed.

"I mean he shouldn't go by himself, right?" she tried.

"You'll do no such thing." her father said, staring at her.

"I don't need a girl following along." said Frank.

Enid almost cursed, mostly at herself for speaking in the first place. She had no idea why she'd said that. What they'd said made her mad, though and she opened her mouth to yell at them both.

"I said no." her father said firmly. "You have no business going off into trouble."

"Well ... well ... how do you know there's trouble anyway?" said Enid, her face flushing red with anger.

Brad looked at her, amazed. She had always been more boyish than Beth, and she carried her weight like a man, but she was just a girl. It should be clear to her that there might be serious trouble afoot.

"I said no." he said again. You get back and help your mother. This flock is strung out and we need to keep them together.

"But his mamma may need help!" insisted Enid, proving that she did suspect there was trouble after all.

"Am I going to have to tan your hide girl?" asked her father, getting mad now.

Enid was as stubborn as he was. "Well then ... what if he finds some kind of trouble that we need to know about? What then Pappa? We could be walking right into an ambush or something!"

Brad started to shout, but swallowed his words. He realized suddenly that he had been foolish. He was so centered on the flock, and getting them to their summer pasture that he hadn't really thought much about anything else. He was certainly following his son's trail, but he had never really thought about anything being bad wrong, or representing danger to the rest of his family. While he was just as stubborn as Enid, and just as unlikely to apologize for making a mistake as Jonas Collins was, he was also smart enough to recognize when he hadn't thought things out as well as he should have too.

"Let's just suppose there is some kind of trouble up there waiting for us." said Brad as patiently as he could. "Wouldn't you just walk into it first?" He was trying to show her that scouting trouble was no job for a fourteen year old girl, despite her boyish ways.

"Not if we were careful." said Enid immediately. "I know how to sneak around, and besides, he'd be going first, and I could just watch him get ambushed and then come back and tell you about it." Enid nodded towards an astonished Frank.

"You'd let me get ambushed and do nothing to help?" he squeaked. That bothered him. His voice hadn't cracked in a long time. He cleared his throat.

"Well?" she stuck out her chin at him. "You're the one who said you didn't need any girl along. So I won't BE along. I'll just watch what happens from behind you. Then you won't have to worry about a GIRL!"

"Enid, that's crazy." said her father. "I won't have it."

"Well I think it's a good idea!" she said, now jutting her chin at her father. "But if you want to let our neighbor's son get himself shot or whatever, I guess we'll hear it, so I suppose I don't REALLY need to be there." She turned around, putting her back to the two men.

Brad thought about that. Damn! If this boy DID get hurt, and it turned out he was alone, when there was a full grown man not far away, it wouldn't look good. Damn! But he couldn't leave the flock. They were his livelihood ... his whole family's livelihood. It was hard enough keeping the flock on track with his two daughters and the dogs. Amanda couldn't do much because she had to bring along the sheep wagon, which had some of the lambs in it that were too small to put on the trail, plus all their supplies for the trip.

Damn!

Brad looked at the boy. "She could just trail along behind you." he said. "Just so that if somebody jumped you she could come for help."

Frank scowled. "I told you. I don't need no girl to protect me."

Brad wanted to smile. Instead he tried logic. "I'm not worried about you." he said. "I'm worried about what your Pa would think if he found out you DID get into trouble, and had turned down a little help."

"My Pa knows I don't need any help from ..." Frank's mouth snapped closed. He had been about to insult a man who was still holding a rifle.

Brad sighed. "I know how you people feel about sheep. But that's not really the issue, now is it? You and I both know that there's something funny going on, and your mother and my son are involved in it. I can't just abandon my sheep, but if Enid had you in sight and something happened to you, she COULD come back and get help. Now doesn't that make sense to you?"

Had Brad had time to think about it he might have been amazed at how he had been maneuvered into arguing for what Enid wanted to do, and which he had started out discounting as utter nonsense.

Frank looked at the girl. She wasn't smiling. In fact she wasn't even looking at him. She was bent over a sheep, pulling a thorn or something out of the fluff around it's ears.

"I'm gonna have to move fast to catch them." he said, thinking that would stop this girl.

"I can keep up just fine thank you very much." said Enid standing up, her hands on her hips.

Frank looked at her. His eyes slid to her chest and he closed them, wishing he hadn't looked. He didn't want to feel anything for this girl, but she was awfully cute. He opened them. "Not on foot you can't." he said with finality.

"Then I'll get my horse." she said simply.

"You have a horse?!" he asked, incredulous.

"Of COURSE I have a horse." she said, disgusted.

"But you ... you .... you RAN to get up here!" he said. The idea of running on your own two feet when you had a perfectly good horse available was something he couldn't get his mind wrapped around.

"I was only going a short ways." she said, her hands on her hips again. That buckskin shirt showed an awful lot of freckled chest and Frank looked away again. "Well I have to be moving on. I can't wait for you to go get your horse. I'm moving out. Thanks anyway."

He tipped his hat to the girl's father and kicked his horse with his heels, ready this time as the cow pony jumped like it had been burned with a branding iron. He wanted to gallop, but he knew he had to keep his mother's tracks in view. If he lost those he'd lose even more time finding them again and the last thing he wanted was for those sheep people to catch up with him while he hunted fruitlessly for her trail.

He was therefore greatly surprised when, a very short time later, he heard hoof beats behind him and looked over his shoulder to see the girl riding toward him. She WAS at a gallop, or close to it, and he wanted to sneer that she was so inexperienced at riding that she'd hazard her horse on rough ground like this.

Except that it was obvious to his already experienced eye that she WASN'T an inexperienced rider. She sat her horse solid as a rock, the animal moving under her as she took the shocks in her knees. He couldn't help but watch those fabulous breasts in that tanned leather, bouncing up and down as she rode toward him. She looked ... good! He groaned. He couldn't feel like that about a sheepherder.

His eyes stayed on her, though, watching her jiggle as she trotted up to him.

Enid flushed as she realized where his eyes were. She could feel her breasts bobbing and bouncing under her shirt. She had never thought about it much, except that if she rode too hard for too long sometimes her breasts hurt from bouncing so much. But no man had ever looked at them. Not right AT them.

"What are YOU looking at?" she shouted as she brought her horse to a skidding stop. "You aren't supposed to be looking at me THERE!" She was outraged.

Frank flushed, embarrassed that he had been caught staring. "I thought you were supposed to stay behind me. Back there." He pointed back the way she had come.

"Oh posh!" she said, forgetting she was mad at him. "There's no danger up there." she said.

"Oh really?" asked Frank, confused now. "Then why did you want to come?"

"I don't know. I'm tired of sheep I suppose." she said airily.

Frank hadn't had enough experience with girls to hear her interest in him as a boy in her voice. For that matter, Enid probably wasn't aware of why she'd actually wanted to follow him either.

"Well, you're supposed to be watching me so you can report trouble to your pa." said Frank.

"So you really don't want to talk to me." said Enid, anger growing in the pit of her stomach.

Frank DID hear that womanly tone of voice that spelled trouble. He didn't understand it in this situation, but he recognized it. "I didn't say that." he said heatedly. "But that's what your pa said you were supposed to do."

"You just let me worry about my pa." she said. Her chin jutted toward him again. "Do you want to talk to me or not?"

Frank felt nervous all of a sudden. He wasn't equipped to have this argument, and he didn't like the way this was going at all. "I want to find my mother." he said. "That's what I want to do."

Enid felt rejected. She was quite sure nothing at all was wrong up ahead. She couldn't conceive of anything really bad happening to her brother, or to a grown woman. This disturbing boy's sister had had some accident, or gone off on some wild goose chase, and there was nothing wrong at all. All Enid could think about was that he wasn't interested in her at all. That riled her for some reason.

"Well then, little boy," she said acidly. "You go off and find your mommy, and I'll tail along and keep an eye on you."

Frank would have retorted, but she turned her horse like it was a cutting horse and ran it back down the trail. Finding that his teeth were grinding against each other, he decided to ignore this infuriating sheep girl and do what he had come to do. He turned and began following the trail again.

Bobby decided that they needed to ride into the Indian camp plainly visible, with no weapons showing. His family had traded with this tribe before, and had never had any misunderstanding with them. He was sure he could collect this woman's daughter and they could start home, assuming the girl could travel. They had a spare horse, and should be able to get at least halfway back to the woman's ranch by nightfall.

The last time Molly had seen an Indian was when she was eleven, and she had shot at the man. Everyone else had been shooting at the Indians too, and many people on both sides of the issue had died that day. The soldiers, and the Government had brought peace to the area since then, but that memory bothered Molly and she wasn't at all sure that riding in like this was a good idea. She found herself deferring to this strange boy/man whom she now realized she actually liked. They'd had time to do a lot of talking, and her preconceived notions of what he was going to be like had been eroded until she realized he was just a nice young man, smart as a whip, and perfectly capable of taking on the role of an adult.

Her gut tightened as she saw there were several Indian men coming to meet them. The men had spears, and one had a rifle.

Bobby got down off his horse and walked toward them. Molly didn't want to do the same. She felt fear and itched to reach for her own rifle. Instead she just sat and let her horse follow Bobby's. Bobby's horse was showing all too much interest in Vixen. That big black animal was magnificent, and Vixen acted like she was coming in heat. Molly didn't pay any attention to those things around the ranch. Those were things her husband was concerned with.

She saw the men look at her. She swallowed. They looked magnificent too with broad muscular chests and bulging arms.

"Wah hah no shay." said one of the men to Bobby. Then he spoke broken English. "You grow much since long time ago."

Bobby spoke to the man. "Howdy, Man who runs like deer. It is good to see you again."

The Indian looked at Bobby's horse, and then at Molly's horse, and then at Molly. She saw approval in his eyes of her as a woman and flushed.

"You no have wool string?" he addressed Bobby again.

"No, not this time." said Bobby. "We're looking for a girl, a white girl. She may be hurt."

The Indian was silent for a long time. No one made a sound.

"Why you think this white girl is with the people?" he finally asked.

"There was trouble up in the hills." said Bobby. "Bad men stole this girl and hurt her. It looked to me like some of your people found her ... helped her ... brought her here."

There was more silence.

"Bah-bee" said the man finally. "You have been friend to the people. What means this woman to you? Is she your woman?"

Bobby didn't know quite how to respond to that. For some reason he had the suspicion that the "correct" answer was "Yes, she is my woman", but he couldn't just say that ... could he? The Indians were waiting. He had to say something.

"Yes." he said simply. Then he added. "Bad men stole her from me."

He heard Molly's intake of breath and turned to shoot her a warning look. She looked outraged, but subsided. Her fingers were gripping her reins so hard her knuckles were white.

Man Who Runs Like A Deer stared at Bobby. The two men with him said nothing. Finally Man Who Runs Like A Deer spoke. "I was told of these bad men ... men who hurt such a woman."

Molly couldn't control herself any longer. "Where is she?" she gasped.

The Indian looked up at her, and then at Bobby. "Who is this woman who has no manners? Did you bring her to trade?"

Bobby wished he'd paid more attention to Indian customs when he was here with his father in the past. He had been agog at looking at strange sights, eating strange food, smelling strange smells, but hadn't paid any attention to negotiations much. He did know that, if you wanted something from the Indians, they demanded something in trade. Bobby suddenly realized the meaning of what Man Who Runs Like A Deer had said. He was suggesting that Bobby owned Molly, and might want to trade her for something!

"No!" said Bobby forcefully. "She is my woman too. I do not wish to trade her."

"Bobby!" gasped Molly. He turned around, his face scowling. "Be quiet woman!" he growled. He winked at her startled expression and then winked again, pleading in his face. This wasn't working out at all like he had planned.

Man Who Runs Like A Deer frowned. "Do you want me to get you a stick to beat her with?" he offered. "She has very bad manners."

Bobby felt his stomach sinking. "No ... that's all right, Man Who Runs Like A Deer." he said. He felt one of his hands tremble. "I haven't had her very long and I am trying to be patient with her."

The big Indian looked up at Molly, still frowning. Then he grinned. "She looks to be a strong woman. Too pale for me, but I can see why you like her. You'll have to beat her though. I can tell." he said as if he and Bobby were old friends, talking about this and that.

Molly gasped and her horse moved as it felt her emotion. Bobby turned and, with his face completely blank, snarled "Quiet woman, or I WILL beat you!"

Molly's mouth snapped shut and she bit her cheek to keep from screaming at him. She recognized, though, that this was a different culture than what she was used to, and that she needed to play along. She began thinking about ways she could make this young man rue the day he'd spoken to her like this.

Bobby turned back to the Indian. "I fear you are right, Man Who Runs Like A Deer. I may have to beat her. But what of my other woman?"

The Indian seemed to come to some decision. "This could cause trouble." he said. Bobby waited, tensing up. "She was captured in battle with these bad men you speak of. The brave who took her claims her too."

Bobby felt his stomach clench. He had to try to get her back. "This is not good" he said as firmly as he could. "She is my best woman. As you can see I have come a long way to get her."

The Indian turned and huddled with the other two men. They spoke their own language, which neither Bobby nor Molly understood. It was a long discussion, with some voices raised at one point or another. Finally Man Who Runs Like A Deer turned back to Bobby.

"This is something we must consult the elders about." he said. "I will have Morning Mist get you something to eat. You may feed your woman too, if you wish. My woman will prepare food for you."

"Thank you, Man Who Runs Like A Deer." said Bobby formally. "Tell the elders I must have my woman back. That is why I came here. Perhaps we can trade again when this is finished."

"Perhaps" said the Indian, obviously saying an unfamiliar word.

Bobby was led to a wigwam, where Man Who Runs Like A Deer barked commands to two women who were tending a fire that had strips of meat impaled on sticks suspended over it. They looked at Bobby, and then at Molly, still on her horse, and grinned their welcome. One of them was missing several teeth. The other was younger and pregnant. A third woman, perhaps nineteen, came out of the wigwam with a clay bowl that had beans in it, soaking in water. She was also pregnant, and heavy with child.

Bobby turned to Molly and told her to get down, but not to speak. Her only comment was "We'll talk about this later, young man, you can be sure of that."

"I'm sorry." he said softly. "But it was all I could think of. I'm trying to get your daughter back. Please help me do that."

The old toothless woman came and offered Bobby two strips of steaming meat that were almost too hot to hold in his fingers. Then she examined Molly, walking around her, bending over to look at Molly's jeans and boots, and fingering the colorful shirt Molly was wearing. Molly stood and looked at the woman, unsure of what to say or do. Acting on impulse, Bobby ate both pieces of meat he had been given, and then smacked his lips in appreciation. He pointed at Molly and then at the meat smoking over the fire. The older woman smiled her toothless grin and got one piece, which she gave to Molly. She then reached out and patted Molly's abdomen, rubbing her hand over it in a remarkably sensual and familiar way.

Before Molly could react to the invasion of her space, the woman backed up and turned away.

Bobby squatted beside the fire, and looked at it, like he was bored. Molly shuffled around behind him.

"What are we doing?" she asked finally.

He turned his head to look up at her. "Waiting." he said shortly.

All three women were watching them, as if listening to their conversation. A boy and girl came out of the wigwam. Both looked like they might be eleven or twelve. They stared at the white people at their fire.

"I don't think I can do this." said Molly.

"You have to do this, Molly. We came here to get your ... to get Sarah, and I mean to do that. We just have to play this by ear."

There was the sound of a crying child from inside the teepee, and the girl darted back inside. She came out with a toddler, who wanted down. The girl put the toddler down and she immediately ran toward the strangers. She almost fell, but caught herself in time to come to a stop beside Bobby. She stared at him. He turned his head and looked at her. He grinned and she backed up. The older pregnant woman spoke and the toddler looked at her, and then back at Bobby. Then losing interest, she went to examine Molly, who squatted and smiled too.

"Aren't you a cute little thing." cooed Molly to the little girl. The toddler raised both hands in the air and then swept them downward, almost falling over backwards while making a sound. It didn't sound like speech, just the kind of noises that children too young to talk make. Molly held out her hand to the little girl, who leaned forward to examine it. She reached out and touched the back of Molly's hand, running one stubby dirty finger along Molly's pale, soft skin. Looking at Molly's eyes one last time with her own huge ones, the toddler spun and tried to run to the woman who had spoken to her. She tripped and fell right towards the fire.

Bobby reacted instantly, rising and stepping one booted foot into the fire, hitting one of the uprights that held the sizzling meat and almost knocking it over. Strips of meat sizzled as they fell around his boot. His hand darted for the toddler's leather shirt and grasped it just as the baby's outreaching hands were about to hit the coals. He gave a jerk upwards and strained as the baby's weight came onto his outstretched arm. He pulled the child toward him and scooped it up with his other arm as he felt the heat of the fire penetrating his boot. The child squalled as he stepped back. All three Indian women and both youngsters were frozen.

Bobby found himself holding a squirming crying Indian baby and, by instinct, held it out away from him, towards the women. It's mother unfroze and rushed to hold the baby, sitting it on her hip, since her round belly was in the way of a direct hug. The child quieted almost immediately, but turned hurt eyes on Bobby, who stepped back and squatted again, not knowing what else to do.

The old toothless woman stepped forward and reached into the embers of the fire to pull blackening strips of meat out. Her fingers seemed not to feel the heat at all.

It seemed like it took forever, but finally Man Who Runs Like A Deer came back. This time he had seven or eight men with him, and two youths, about Bobby's age. Bobby stood to face them, his hands empty. Man Who Runs Like A Deer looked at the three women who stood across the fire from Bobby. They weren't moving. He spoke to them, his voice sounding an undecipherable question. The older woman spoke, her voice quavering at first, and then getting stronger as she talked longer. The Indian barked harshly, and all three women scurried, two going back in the wigwam, and the other pulling more strips of meat away from the fire.

The two women who had gone inside appeared with hides, the hair still on them, and spread them on the ground. The toddler's mother came and pulled Bobby toward one and seated him on it. She came back for Molly and pulled her to sit behind him and to one side. The older woman brought them more meat, this time lying on a stick they could hold so their fingers wouldn't be burned.

Man Who Runs Like A Deer sat down on the other skin, and was served in a like manner. Bobby gave Molly two strips of meat, and ate three more himself before anyone spoke.

Man Who Runs Like A Deer threw his stick into the fire and wiped his fingers on his leggings.

"My woman tells me you kept my daughter from the fire. That is good." he said.

Bobby smiled. "It is good when children are not hurt." he responded.

"I have talked with the elders about this problem." said the Indian, as if nothing else had been said before. "You must fight Sees Long Distance for the woman."

Molly gasped and Bobby frowned. "Why must I fight? She is my woman."

"Yes" said the big Indian. "But you lost her. Now, to get her back you must fight. Will you do this?"

Bobby stood. Molly started to stand, but he put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down. "I will fight." he said.

END OF PREVIEW

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