Juniper watched Riley from the edge of her vision as he glanced backward again. What was he looking for? He’d been doing that for at least the last hour, maybe longer. She’d forgotten to pin on her watch that morning, so she had no accurate notion of time.
They must be getting close to the Gros Ventre camp by now. They’d already passed one native village. Snake Indians, Riley had called them.
“Do you think it’s on the other side of that hill?” Faith was the only one among them who had the nerve to ask how much farther they would have to ride, though thankfully this was only the third time she’d formed some version of the question.
Riley eyed the hill, as though searching for sign of what might lie beyond it. “Maybe. I haven’t been to the camp yet. We’ll see soon enough.”
By the time they’d ridden partway up the slope, Riley had peered over his shoulder twice more.
She could no longer hold her tongue. “What are you looking for back there?”
He hesitated, like he was debating whether he should tell her the truth. Perhaps she could make answering easier for him. “Is someone following us?”
His gaze flicked her way, then focused forward again. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”
So that was a yes. Only he didn’t want to frighten her. Hopefully soon he would realize he needn’t worry about their sensibilities. They had to know the way things really stood in order to make wise decisions. “Do you think it’s an Indian?”
He glanced over his shoulder, barely turning his head. “They’re usually better at staying hidden.”
“Why would a white man follow us?” For that matter, the question had little to do with skin color. Why wouldanyonepursue them?
Riley huffed out a frustrated sound. “The same reason I asked you not to leave your lodge unless I’m with you. These fellows haven’t seen a woman from the States in years, most of them. Some will do anything to...”
He didn’t have to finish his statement for her to understand his meaning. But would men follow them this far out of camp when they had an escort? She looked over at Rosemary to see if his comment surprised her too. Rosie’s mouth had formed a grim line.
She was saved a response as they climbed the crest of the hill and the valley stretched out below them. Lodges much like the one they were staying in formed a circle in the distance, with the Green River running along one side. Horses milled about on the grassland closest to the river.
“Is that it?” Faith’s chipper voice broke the quiet as their horses began to maneuver the downhill grade.
“Looks like it.” Riley showed a remarkable amount of patience with her little sister’s many questions.
Rosemary frowned at the cluster ahead. “Are the lodges in a circle for protection?”
“Sort of. They bring the horses into the middle at night so they aren’t stolen by other tribes or attacked by wild animals.”
Juniper jerked her attention to Riley. “The Gros Ventre don’t get along well with others?”
Riley shrugged. “Stealing horses is common among most tribes. It’s kind of a pastime for many of the braves. Plus a way to grow their herds.”
“They won’t try to take ours, will they?”
As they reached level ground, several men stepped from the circle of lodges and stood waiting for them. Unease prickled in her middle. The Peigan camp had been mostly women, but that wouldn’t be the case here.
As they rode closer, the features of the four men waiting for them became clearer as well as the numerous heads watching from just inside the circle of lodges.
Riley spoke in a low voice, his tone urgent. “The men might wish to speak with me alone. If they separate us, just do as they say. Be careful not to offend anyone.”
Separate them? She glanced at Rosemary on her other side. How would she and her sisters know what to do without Riley to interpret?
Rosie gave her the slightest of nods, but it was firm enough to speak clearly. The four of them would stay together. Even if Riley was taken from them, she could rely on her sisters.
Juniper took in a slow breath, then eased it out.
They halted several paces from the men who’d come out to meet them. Riley made a sweeping motion toward the natives, maybe the same he’d done at the Peigan camp. “Hello.”
The man in the center of the three men spoke several sounds and returned the same wide gesture.
“Do you speak the white man’s tongue?” Riley accompanied the words with another series of hand movements. This must be the hand talk he’d spoken of that the tribes understood. She tried to catch some of the signs, but he moved too swiftly.
