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Michelle pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders and stared into the fire. Although the sun had just risen, she’d been awake and restless for hours. She glanced at the gray sky. The dreary day made her feel worse.
Luther walked through the yard, cradling a stack of wood in his arms. “How did you sleep?”
“I had nightmares again.” She huddled near the fire and rocked back and forth. No matter how close she sat to the flames, and despite all the blankets she wore, she felt cold and empty inside.
Luther stacked the wood near the cabin and knelt next to her. “About the bear?”
“No. Something else.” She bowed her head. She didn’t want to tell Luther she’d had another nightmare about Roger. When would her terrible dreams end? For the last two nights, she’d dreamt about Roger coming to the cabin and killing her. She shivered and adjusted the blanket again. “When are Black Elk and Redfeather coming back?”
“I have no idea. They went hunting hours ago.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Are you upset that my father is staying here?”
“No. I’m glad you talked everything out. You both seem happy now.”
Over the last week, Luther and Black Elk had made up for lost time. They went hunting and hiking together. Every night, Black Elk told Ojibwa legends and sang songs as they sat by the fire. “I’m happy they’re here. I’m learning a lot.”
“Are you sure you’re feelin’ well? You look upset.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s the weather. I’m cold and miserable today.”
Luther kissed her cheek. “I know what’ll cheer you up.” He rubbed her back. “Marry me.”
“What?”
“Let’s go back to the village with Black Elk and Redfeather and get married. What do you say?”
“Of course I will.” She smiled. “Would your father allow it?”
“I already asked. He said it would be an honor and a good way of welcoming you into the village. You’ll become one of us.”
Luther stood and kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t you get in bed and rest for a while? I’ll come join you when I’m done with the wood. I know a fun way to keep us both warm,” he teased.
* * *
LUTHER FROWNED AS HE stacked the split wood near the cabin. Although Michelle had tried to hide it, he knew she was upset about something. She’d cried out in her sleep for the last two nights. At first, he thought the nightmares were about the bear. But now he wasn’t sure. Michelle was acting spooked.
A twig snapped behind him and he whirled around. He took a step back in shock as a man came out of the woods. What the hell? Nobody ever came here, especially folks like this.
Luther studied the stranger as he approached the cabin. He was pale, with sandy brown hair, a mustache, and black, rat-like eyes. One glance at his clothes told him the man didn’t belong out here. He wore a fancy gray suit and tie, matching gloves, and a tall hat. His suit was muddy and torn, as if he’d been wandering in the woods for days. He scowled. This man was an Easterner if he ever saw one. What business would he have up here?
“Hello.” The man’s voice sounded weak and nasally. “I’m wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for Kathleen Stanton.”
Kathleen? Luther’s skin prickled. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t about to get anywhere near Michelle. He bent over and casually picked up a piece of wood. “You must be lost. You got the wrong place, mister. I ain’t never heard of Kathleen Stanton.”
Luther kept his head down and watched the man out of the corner of his eye. If the stranger made a sudden move, he’d get a log smacked upside his head. So far, the man hadn’t done anything to warrant violence. He might go away quiet.
“Is that so?” The man fingered his mustache. “That’s odd, considering she was with you at the fort a few weeks ago.”
Luther took a good look at him. Now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered this man wandering near the tent at the rendezvous. He didn’t buy anything, but he had sure hung around a lot. “Who the hell are ya, anyway?”
“My name is Roger Barrington, and I know Kathleen is here. I saw her with you and the other savages at the fort. Tell her to come out.”
Roger? Why hadn’t he believed Michelle when she told him she’d seen Roger? Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to keep Roger talking. If he stalled long enough, Roger would let his guard down.
“You sure you got the right place? Maybe there was someone who looked like this woman at the fort. There’s nobody here but me.”
“Liar. I’d know her anywhere. It wasn’t hard to recognize her with that golden hair, even though you tried to make her your squaw.”
Roger paused and brushed a leaf off his jacket. “I gave a few of those lice-riddled trappers money to buy your trinkets and chat you up. They told me everything I needed to know.” Roger cleared his throat.
“After I finished my business at the fort, I took a coach to that disgusting little town. A storekeeper named Jed was happy to talk about you, half-breed. And for a small sum, he was kind enough to point me in the direction of this”—Roger gestured at the cabin—“filthy shack.”
Damn that Jed. One day he’d get what was coming to him. Luther tightened his grip on the piece of wood. Roger was crafty—and three steps ahead of him. He cursed to himself. Why had he opened his fool mouth at the fort? When folks had come over to talk at the rendezvous, he thought they were being friendly.
Maybe he could trick Roger into thinking Kathleen, Michelle, had left. He forced himself to laugh. “Well, mister, I hate to tell you this, but Jed took your money and sent you on a wild goose chase. Folks in town like to fun with people who ain’t from these parts. Kathleen was here, until about a week ago. Jed would know, he saw her get on the coach and leave.”
“You’re lying. Call her out here, now.”
“I told you, she ain’t here. You been fooled. Now I think you should get off my land and go about your business,” he growled.
“Kathleen is my business. I’m offering you a thousand dollars for her return. That’s more money than you’ll see in three lifetimes. Hand her over to me and it’s yours.”
Luther licked his lips. Michelle was right. Roger had money to spend, and he never stopped looking for her.
“Like hell I will.” Luther swung the piece of wood and bashed Roger to the ground. He kicked him as hard as he could and heard a rib crack. “You get the hell outta here, you son of a bitch. You think I’d let you anywhere near her?”
“This says you will, half-breed.” Roger pulled a small silver pistol from his jacket as he stood. He cocked it and aimed it straight at Luther’s chest. “Call her out here. Don’t make it worse for her, or you.”
Luther dropped the wood. He knew better than to fool with a madman holding a gun.
“Do it.”
He kept his gaze focused on the gun. If he got it away from Roger, he’d take care of him once and for all. Now he understood why Michelle was so afraid and why she wanted to keep running. She had every right to fear for her life. Roger was insane. “She ain’t here. She went to wash clothes.”
Roger gestured with the gun. “Call Kathleen out here now, or I’ll kill you and find her myself. It might be better for you that way. You won’t want to see what I do to her.” He chuckled. “I bet she’ll be surprised to see me.”
Probably not. Now he knew why Michelle felt out of sorts today and what her nightmares were about. How could he warn her? He thought for a moment and then did exactly as Roger said.
“Kathleen!” He had promised never to use that name again. Michelle was clever. She’d figure out something was wrong. He prayed she was still awake to hear him. “I told you—”
“Again, louder!”
“Kathleen, you in there?” Luther sneered at Roger and waited for a chance to knock the gun away. “See? She ain’t here.”
“Get inside. We’ll look together.” Roger kept the gun pressed against Luther’s back as they walked to the cabin.
Luther opened the door and Roger shoved him inside. If he made a sudden move, Roger would shoot him. Then what would happen to Michelle? He didn’t want to think about the possibilities.
“I told you, she ain’t here.” Michelle had to be hiding somewhere. He would have seen her if she had climbed out a window.
“Sit.”
Roger rammed the gun against Luther’s ribs. He sat and clenched his fists. The second he got control of the gun, that would be the end of Roger Barrington. Barrington? Bear? Now he understood what the spirits had been trying to communicate. Bears of all sorts were trouble for Michelle.
“Kathleen, I know you’re in here.” Roger pointed the pistol at Luther’s temple. “I have your diseased savage. Come out before I count to three, or his brains will be all over these walls.”
He knew Roger meant it. He would kill him and then go after Michelle. Roger had tracked the terrified girl all the way here just to torture and kill her.
“One... Two... Kathleen! Don’t make me find you after he’s dead.”
“She ain’t here.”
“Yes, she is. I know it.” Roger leaned over Luther’s shoulder. “See how much the bitch loves you? She doesn’t care you’re about to die. I told you to take the money.” Roger straightened up. “Last chance. One... You know I’ll kill him. Two...”
“Stop!” Michelle came out from the spare room and leaned against the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Don’t hurt him, Roger, please,” she whispered. “Let him go. It’s me you want.”
“Shut up and get over here, right now.”
Luther watched in shock as Michelle took a step closer to Roger. Why was she obeying him?
“Please, let him go.” Michelle cringed and wiped her teary eyes with one hand. “Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want—”
“You will anyway. You won’t have a choice.”
Luther sat immobile and waited for the right moment to attack. Michelle was crafty. If she kept Roger distracted long enough...
“I’m sorry I ran away. I never told anyone about that girl. I was scared,” Michelle said as she inched closer to Roger. Without warning, she lunged at him. The hunting knife she had concealed behind her skirt flashed in the firelight as she tried to plunge it into Roger’s chest.
Roger spun away at the last second, and the knife sliced into his arm. Blood soaked through his coat sleeve. “You bitch! I should have taken you outside that night.”
Luther sprang from the chair and punched Roger hard under the chin, knocking him backward. Roger yelped, but did not go down. He hit him again and grabbed his arm as they wrestled for the gun.
Roger kicked him in the left knee as the gun went off. His head struck a chair as he went down. He heard Michelle scream, then everything faded.
* * *
“NOW YOU’RE MINE!”
Michelle shrieked as Roger yanked her to her feet and slapped her. Her knees buckled, and she fought to stay upright.
Roger clamped his hand on the back of her neck and slammed her head into the table. “This is what you get for running away from me.”
She tried to straighten up, but was too weak and dizzy. Blood trickled down her forehead. Roger had killed Luther. What would happen to her?
Roger pulled her up by her hair and threw her across the cabin. She collapsed against the far wall near the door.
“Do you know what a scandal you caused? I swore to your father that I’d find you and bring you back, dead or alive. I promised I’d make sure you wouldn’t disgrace your family again.”
“I don’t care. I hate them. I’d rather die than go back there with you,” she yelled as she opened the door and stumbled from the cabin. Blood pounded in her ears as she ran across the yard. Where could she hide?
“Get back here, Kathleen!”
Michelle cast a glance over her shoulder. Roger was right behind her. If he grabbed her again... The next thing she knew, her weak ankle gave out on her, and she sprawled to the ground.
Roger scrambled on top of her, pinning her beneath him. She screamed and fought against him, clawing at his face.
“Yell all you like. There’s nobody here to help you.” Roger punched her in the side of her head, and everything spun. “I killed your half-breed. Now I’m taking what you owe me.”
A second later, she heard a loud whoosh noise and something passed close over her head. Roger cried out, and his weight was thrown off her. She lay still, trembling and listening to her ragged breathing.
“Get up, Ayasha.”
Redfeather? What was he doing here? She sat up, then gasped at the sight a few feet away. Roger lay sprawled on his back. An arrow jutted from his chest. Black Elk was crouched next to his body.
“Is he—”
“Yes,” Black Elk answered. “Redfeather had to wait for a clean shot.”
Redfeather turned to her. “Where is Luther?”
She bolted to her feet. “In the cabin. Roger shot him.”
Black Elk and Redfeather followed close behind her as she hobbled to the cabin and dashed inside. Blood pooled on the floor near Luther’s head. She knelt at his side and held his hand. “Oh, Luther, this is all my fault.”
“Let me see.” Redfeather shoved her aside. He moved Luther’s head and examined the wound. “Get me the whiskey, Ayasha,” Redfeather ordered.
She ran to the shelf and brought the bottle back to Redfeather. “What are you going to do with this? He can’t drink. He’s been shot.”
“Watch.”
Redfeather opened the bottle and splashed whiskey on Luther’s bloody scalp. Luther jerked upright.
“God dammit! What the hell?”
“You’re alive.” She wrapped her arms around Luther’s shoulders and hugged him.
He flinched. “Easy, easy. Watch my bad shoulder.”
“I thought he killed you,” she said, kissing his cheek. “I was so scared.”
Luther touched his still-bleeding head. “I thought so, too. I guess he’s a lousy shot.”
“Not true,” Redfeather replied, bending close to examine Luther’s wound. “The bullet grazed your scalp.” He gestured at the blood on one of the chairs. “You must have hit your head and got knocked out.”
Luther tried to stand. “Where is that son of a bitch? I want a piece of him.”
Black Elk rested his hand on Luther’s good shoulder. “No need. Redfeather is a swift shot.”
“He’s dead, Luther. Roger’s dead,” Michelle said as she helped him to his feet. “It’s finally over.”
* * *
MICHELLE HELD LUTHER’S hand as he closed the cabin door behind them. A breeze rustled the leaves on the trees, and she let out a sigh of contentment.
“You sure you wanna do this?” Luther asked.
“I’m positive. Anywhere you go, I go.”
“I love you,” he said, kissing her.
“You two are not married yet,” Redfeather teased from atop Wildfire. “Come along. Black Elk is waiting.”
She grinned as they walked to the cart loaded with supplies and their belongings. Redfeather would escort them to the Ojibwa village and help them get settled after their wedding.
Michelle rested her head against Luther’s shoulder. Her troubled past had finally been put to rest. Now she could look forward to building a happy future with her true love.
