Thad Conway tied his dusty horse and crossed the patch of sun-baked earth that separated the military fort from the rest of the buildings at Fort Elliot.
“Morning, sir.”
Thad knew the boy behind the desk had to be a new recruit. He could tell by the crisp uniform and the eager smile on his face. Most of the officers were holdovers from the War Between the States, whose experiences on the battlefields had left them bitter and cynical. Men who still bore the grim reminders of what war was really like.
“Name’s Thad Conway. I’d like to see your commanding officer.”
“That would be Captain Peters.”
The boy knocked on a door, then disappeared inside. A minute later he returned. “The captain will see you.”
Thad crossed the room and stepped into a cramped office that smelled of whiskey and cigars. He’d been in saloons that smelled better.
“What can I do for you?” the captain asked, without looking up from the map he was studying.
Thad waited a minute, hoping the captain would give him the courtesy of at least a cursory glance. He studied the thin dark hair carefully combed over a bald spot. Then his gaze moved over the hunched shoulders, the pudgy finger tapping a pencil with agitated rhythm.
“I was told at Fort Cobb that a doctor passed through this territory about a month ago and stayed on through an outbreak of cholera.”
“Could be. What’s it to you?’’
Thad leaned over the desk, planting his hands squarely on the map. The captain’s head came up sharply. He found himself staring into eyes that pierced him with a look of cold fury.
“I have reason to believe that doctor was my brother. I’ve come a long way to find out.” Thad thought about the hundreds of miles he’d traveled and the few facts he’d been able to gather. “What can you tell me about him?”
The captain studied the man before him. He was lean and rangy, well over six feet tall, with sun-bronzed skin and the corded muscles of a man who knew hard work. His pale hair spilled over a wide forehead. For a moment he felt the jolt of recognition. The similarity was there in the eyes. They held a fire that few men could match. He had no doubt this man was brother to the doctor who’d gone without sleep for days while he nursed the sick of the fort.
“He was as tall as you. But his eyes were green and his hair was dark.”
Thad straightened. It was the same description he’d been given at every stop. It had to be Dan.
“Did he say where he was headed?”
“No. Just left one night without a word.”
“Thanks,” Thad said, turning away.
“Just a minute.” The captain opened a drawer.
Thad turned. With a surly grunt the captain held up a piece of paper. “If he’s your brother, you’ll be interested in this. It just came with yesterday’s post.”
Thad took a step closer and stopped. The paper was a wanted poster. On it was a rough sketch of a man with dark shaggy hair. Thad studied the picture for several minutes, trying to reconcile the face of this stranger with the memory he’d carried of his brother all these years. Finally he read the caption. “A thousand-dollar reward for the capture of Doctor Daniel Conway, wanted for murder in Boston, Massachusetts.”
The words were like a blow to the midsection. For a minute, Thad read and reread the words until they were burned into his mind. Then he crushed the poster in his hand and let it drop to the floor as he spun toward the door. Before he could yank it open, the captain’s words stopped him.
“I’ll remind you that if you find your brother, you have a duty to turn him in to the proper authorities. Or you’ll be considered a wanted criminal as well.”
Without a word Thad opened the door and strode out, slamming the door behind him.
“Goodbye, sir,” the young recruit called.
Thad’s eyes narrowed. He was only a couple of years older than the lad. But in the past few moments, he’d aged considerably. After today, he’d never feel young and carefree again.
* * *
“You must wake, Pale Wolf.”
Morning Light’s urgent tones penetrated Dan’s sleep-drugged mind. Instantly alert, he sat up and tossed aside the buffalo robe. His hand went to the pistol that lay by his side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” Morning Light realized instantly her mistake. She should not have come here. She had been so concerned about her brother’s son, she had forgotten how isolated was this place Pale Wolf had chosen for his camp. She had forgotten also how erratic her heartbeat became whenever she got too close to this man.
“I would speak with you before my brother awakens.” She struggled to avoid staring at Dan’s hair-roughened chest, so unlike that of any of the braves.
His eyes narrowed. Something must be terribly wrong in the Comanche camp to bring her here at such an hour. “What about?”
“Runs With The Wind.”
“He’s sick?” He started to rise.
She placed a hand on his shoulder to still his movements. “No. Nothing is wrong.”
The breath he had been holding came out in a slow hiss of air. He leaned on one elbow and studied her as she knelt beside him. A mist had settled over the river during the night. Now, as the sun hovered on the horizon, it created a soft, hazy glow. Morning Light, her hair swirling forward across one breast, appeared pale and ethereal, with a halo of light surrounding her. Her eyes were wide and pleading.
“I came to ask that you use your medicine to drive away the spirit that sleeps within the child.”
This was finally beginning to make sense. She had witnessed the cures of the others, and now she was seeking a miracle for her nephew. But why had she chosen such an hour to approach him?
“I want you to understand—” his gaze held hers “—that I can make no promises. I will examine his foot. But I might be helpless to undo what was done at birth.”
Morning Light nodded. “I ask only that you keep the evil spirit from taking over Runs With The Wind’s entire body.”
Of that he had no fear. “I give you my word,” Dan said.
“Also,” she cautioned softly, “Two Moons must not know of this. This must be our secret.”
So that was the reason for her early-morning visit.
She saw the frown line that appeared between Dan’s brows. “I don’t like keeping secrets from the chief. The boy is his son. He has a right to know that I’ve examined Runs With The Wind’s leg.”
“Please,” she said pleadingly. “You do not know the pain that has been caused my brother. There must be no more pain.”
Dan placed his hand over hers in a gesture of acquiescence. Didn’t she understand that he could deny her nothing? Especially when she appeared to him in the morning mist like an angel.
“All right,” he said softly. “It will be our secret. For now.”
“Thank you, Pale Wolf.”
As she started to stand he caught her wrist, stilling her movements. Her eyes widened in surprise as she was forced to continue to kneel beside him. Her throat went dry.
His tone was low, ominous. “The others are asleep?”
His voice seemed suddenly deeper, more dangerous.
She swallowed and tried to speak, but no words came out. She nodded her head.
He could feel the pulse at her wrist beating an unsteady tattoo against his fingers. He didn’t know why, but it gave him a perverse sense of pleasure to know that he made her nervous. Maybe that cool sense of detachment she usually showed him was merely a pose.
“Then you won’t be missed if you don’t return soon?”
“I...” She struggled to pull her hand free, but he tightened his grip. “Pale Wolf, what are you doing?”
He gave one tug and she found herself sprawled across the solid wall of his chest.
For a moment she was speechless as her hands came in contact with the springy mat of hair on his chest. His eyes looked heavy lidded and dangerous. His lips were mere inches from hers.
She was engulfed in a wave of heat as his arms came around her, pinning her to the length of him.
She saw his eyes narrow as his gaze roamed her face before settling on her lips. She thought her heart would leap from her throat as he cupped her head with his hand and drew her slowly down to his waiting lips.
For a moment it was the merest brushing of mouth to mouth. His lips skimmed hers, nibbling, tasting, teasing, until her mouth softened and her lips parted on a sigh.
Her whole body seemed to grow slack. Slowly her hands, which she had tried to keep firmly between them, began to move across his chest, tingling as her fingertips came in contact with his naked flesh.
She felt her nipples harden as they pressed against him. She should flee, she scolded herself. Now, while she still had her wits about her. She felt his arms tighten their grasp as he suddenly rolled her over on the buffalo robe until she was pinned beneath his hard, firm body. And then all thought was swept away as his mouth covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss.
His lips were no longer gentle, but demanding. His mouth moved over hers with practiced ease until he heard her little moan of pleasure.
He plunged his hands into her hair and rained kisses along her exposed throat to the little hollow between her neck and shoulder. She moved in his arms and gave herself up to the feelings his touch unleashed.
She was hungry for his mouth. She moaned and clutched at his head until his lips returned to hers. He lingered over her lips, savoring the wild, sweet taste of her. And all the while his hands worked their magic, touching, caressing, seducing.
They both knew they had to end this now, before they crossed the line into madness. And yet neither was willing to give up this intense pleasure.
When his fingers reached for the laces that held together the bodice of her buckskin gown, she stiffened. Struggling through the mists that had begun to cloud her will, she pushed him away.
“I must go. Already the morning is upon us. Please, Pale Wolf.”
He knew the wisdom of her words. And still he lingered over her lips a moment longer before lifting his head and breaking contact. With great reluctance, he let his hands fall to his sides.
While she got to her feet and smoothed her skirts, she was painfully aware of Dan, lying very still, watching through narrowed eyes.
She ran in her haste to return to her brother’s tepee before she was missed. While she rolled her buffalo robe and began to prepare the morning fire, she struggled with the wild beating of her heart. Wild. Indeed, there was something wild and primitive about the feelings Pale Wolf aroused in her. Feelings unlike any she had ever known.
She must never allow herself to forget for even a moment that it is dangerous to rouse a sleeping wolf.
* * *
Runs With The Wind lay quietly on the buffalo robe while Dan poked and prodded and studied him from every angle. While he was being examined, the little boy watched the man’s eyes, searching for a clue to his thoughts. But the green eyes, so different from any Runs With The Wind had ever seen before, gave away nothing.
If the man’s eyes were indifferent, his hands were not. His touch was easy and gentle. As he probed, his fingertips soothed away the fears the boy had experienced when he had first arrived at the secluded camp of Pale Wolf. The little boy was no longer afraid; merely puzzled.
He had already accepted the fact that a spirit dwelled within him. Though it took tremendous effort, he had learned to run and play and keep up with the other children. And when he fell behind, they did not mock him. They, too, knew about the spirit.
At last, the examination completed, Dan reached down and lifted the boy.
For one brief instant Dan was a boy again, lifting his little brother from the dirt where he had fallen. Thad. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to think about the brother he had left behind when he had gone off to Boston to study. Their parting had been too painful. The boy had clung to him, begging Dan to stay a few more years, until Thad was old enough to go with him.
Thad would be a man now. Dan’s heart contracted painfully. A stranger.
For a moment longer he hugged Runs With The Wind to his chest, feeling all the old stirrings of love for his family that he had long cherished. How he had missed them. How desperately at times he had longed for their love and comfort in that strange place.
Maybe, more than any of them, it had been Thad who had made Dan yearn for the knowledge to be a doctor. Thad, so young and helpless without a mother’s love, had often burned with mysterious fevers in his childhood. And Dan, with a growing frustration, had vowed to find a way to cure all his ills.
How simple it had all seemed then. An education in Boston, he’d thought, would equip him to cure everything. With a wave of his black bag, he would ride across the West, erasing all pain and illness. What bitter irony. The more he learned, the more he realized how little he knew.
Morning Light, watching in silence, saw a look of pain cross Dan’s face before he handed the little boy over to her arms.
“Take him to play with the other children,” Dan said wearily. “He’s had enough serious business for one day.”
“The spirit...?” she began, but Dan cut her off abruptly.
“We’ll talk later, Morning Light. When Runs With The Wind is sleeping.”
She felt fear clutch at her heart and turned away, hugging the boy to her breast. She had defied her own brother, the chief. She prayed that any punishment for her boldness would be upon her, and not upon this innocent.
* * *
Two Moons watched as his sister tossed and turned in her buffalo robe. His son, resting in the crook of his arm, was sound asleep. But Morning Light could not get comfortable. She seemed troubled in her mind.
He suspected that it might have something to do with Pale Wolf. His suspicions grew when, a short time later, he saw his sister throw off her covering and make her way silently from the tepee.
It was not his way to follow Morning Light, for that would be an insult. But he would pray to the spirits for her guidance. She was treading a narrow, dangerous path.
* * *
Dan was waiting by the river. Morning Light saw his darkened figure hunched on a fallen log. He could have been carved from stone, except for the occasional movement of his hand as he lifted the cigarette to his lips. The red tip flared for a moment in the darkness, then arced as he tossed the cigarette into the water.
He sat staring at the moon. In profile his handsome features were marred only by the frown that furrowed his brow.
His thoughts were as dark as the night that surrounded him. What had he done? Why had he insisted upon examining the boy? Now he had raised Morning Light’s hopes, only to have to dash them.
Miracles, he thought, curling his hand into a fist. He’d hoped for miracles to persuade her. What a cruel joke. Sings In The Forest had survived her bout with measles. Running Elk’s pain had disappeared as soon as his tooth had been pulled. But neither had been miraculous cures. Now he needed a real miracle. And he had been around long enough to know that such things were not to be.
“You have spoken with the spirit?” Morning Light asked softly.
Dan whirled.
As always, the sight of her took his breath away. The fawn-colored dress revealed the soft contours of her slender body. The laces at the bodice exposed the shadowed cleft between her breasts. Her tiny waist was accentuated by a beaded belt that held a small pouch. Tucked into the waistband was a knife. The blade caught and reflected the light of the moon. Her softly rounded hips swayed as she walked closer. On her feet were moccasins that cushioned and silenced each step.
Her hair fell to below her waist in a veil of dark silk. Several strands had drifted forward to kiss her cheeks. He longed to catch the strands and watch them sift through his fingers. But he had no right. And so he kept his hands stiffly at his sides.
She saw the look on his face and felt the fear once again clutch at her heart.
“What has the spirit told you, Pale Wolf?”
“Only that I’m a fool.” He gave a bitter laugh. “And a poor excuse for a doctor.”
“What are you saying?”
“I can’t help Runs With The Wind.”
Her eyes widened. “You have angered the spirit within him?” She let out a cry and brought her hand to her mouth. “What have I done? The spirit will now take over his body, as it took over the body of his mother.”
“No.” Dan gripped her by both shoulders to still her words. In low, measured tones he said, “There is no evil spirit. He’s not doomed to die. But the horse’s hooves crushed the tiny bones and muscle and sinew. They’ve fused together. If I had better skills. If I had the proper equipment. If...” He shrugged, and his tone hardened. “There’s nothing I can do to change what has been done to him. But he won’t have to suffer a life of pain and agony, Morning Light. He can run and play and ride a pony.”
“The spirit that stole his voice and withered his leg will now choke the life from him.”
“No. I promise you. It won’t happen.”
He saw the tears that shimmered in her eyes. She blinked quickly, but her eyes filled again. “But you are the healer. I saw you drive the evil spirits from the others. Why can you not do the same for Runs With The Wind?”
“I wish I could. You’ll never know how badly I wish that.”
“And his voice?”
Dan shrugged. He had examined the boy’s tongue, mouth and throat. He could find nothing physically wrong. But he could not explain why the boy didn’t speak. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. Maybe it was the pain of the accident. I can’t even guess what he went through.”
She pushed away from him and drew her arms around herself as if to ward off a sudden chill. “I must go back to my brother’s tepee and stay close to his son.”
“I promise you, Morning Light, nothing terrible will happen to him because of my examination.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. He knew, in that moment, that she didn’t believe him. Once again, in her mind, she had been betrayed by a white man.
“I must go,” she whispered. “And keep watch.”
With a muttered oath he watched as she ran through the darkness toward the fires of the Comanche camp. Then he returned to the log where he continued his troubled, silent contemplation of the stars.