“All right, Hunting Wolf. On three. One. Two. Three.”
I held my breath as Marcellious jerked the bones into place with a loud crack.
Roman let out an ear-splitting cry that shattered my heart. He squeezed my hand so hard I thought my bones would be crushed.
But, when Marcellious finally released the leg, it matched the arrow’s line.
Roman became quiet, sinking deep into whatever tortured state of mind he roamed.
Marcellious fell back on his ass, his hands landing on the hide-covered ground.
I applied the salve to Roman’s injuries.
Then, all we could do was wait for him to heal.
I remained in Leaping Deer’s teepee for three days and three nights, staying close to Roman. He moaned and writhed, wrestling with his own demons, but he stayed unconscious the entire time.
I continued to dab healing salve upon his wounds as instructed by Leaping Deer. The tribe brought me food, but I ate little. My sole focus was on Roman. No way would I leave his side.
Emily and Marcellious came and went, checking on Roman and me, ensuring I’d been fed, and offering care. Leaping Deer monitored Roman’s well-being, but she slept with Red Bird since neither had a husband. Leaping Deer’s mate had died of a hunting accident, and Red Bird’s husband had been killed after falling from his horse a few years ago.
I was grateful for her kindness and worried to death about Roman.What if he never comes to?
I awoke from a hard sleep on the fourth morning and checked on Roman. The swelling in his ankle had reduced significantly since Marcellious had wrenched the bones in place. Although his gashes and burns were healing, he had not regained consciousness.
My heart grew heavy with despair.
Leaping Deer entered the teepee, carrying a basket of jerky. “Little Moon, you must eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said, despite my stomach growling.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, her expression serious. “You must eat. I don’t wish to care for you both. Eat.”
She thrust the jerky toward me, and I took it.
I selected a piece and began to chew on it.
Leaping Deer said, “Grey Feather is on his way to speak with you.”
“Oh!” I said, somewhat alarmed. “Is anything the matter?”
“Not that I know of—he simply asked to speak with you.” She lifted the bison hide covering Roman and inspected his wounds. “He looks better. I’m pleased.”
Grey Feather lumbered into the dwelling, carrying a staff to steady his steps. “Little Moon, how is Swift Hawk?”
“You can see for yourself. His wounds are healing, but he is not waking. I’m worried he won’t recover,” I said.
The chief leaned heavily on his sturdy carved stick. He studied Roman for a long time while I eagerly held my breath.
“Swift Hawk will survive, Little Moon. He is strong and will come out of it. Don’t worry about his body—his soul is shaken.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth. “What can I do to help him heal?”
Leaping Deer rose and made her way next to the chief. “You must speak to him. Even in his unconsciousness, he can hear you. Tell him everything—your concerns, your fears, and your love. Share from your soul, and you will reach his.”
My attention focused on Roman’s face, which appeared gaunt. His skin clung to his bones, making him look skeletal, haunted. Yet, looking at him with soft, loving eyes, I could see his essence, honor, and fortitude shine through in the set of his jaw, even in repose. Roman was a warrior through and through. He would make it. But could I reach his spirit? What had happened that made Grey Feather say Roman’s soul was shaken?
“All right,” I said to Grey Feather and Leaping Deer without looking up. “I’ll do it.”
