Rosemary sank onto the blankets on the other side ofFaith. “Lights out, girls. We need to be rested for tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll find the woman we’ve come all this way to meet.”
Riley’s belly clenched as they descended the slope on horseback the next morning, headed toward the little cluster of Peigan lodges nestled beside the river. It seemed too unlikely that one particular woman would be in this tiny village instead of the many, many others spread across this side of the Rockies.
After they inquired here, what next? They had to return to the main trappers’ camp first, there was no questioning that. Not only would staying away another night seriously endanger the sisters’ reputation as women of virtue, but he’d also left all the supplies he traded a year’s worth of furs for back in the lodge. He trusted Ol’ Henry, Dragoon, and Jeremiah, but it also wasn’t their job to guard his belongings. Anytime they left the lodge, his things would be easy pickings for any man who hadn’t brought in enough furs to procure his own supplies. Or who simply wanted to add to his stock without the hard work of trapping and scraping and stretching the skins.
But all that would come later. First, he had to navigate the meeting with this new band. If he were by himself, he wouldn’t have minded stopping in a Peigan village to ask questions, or even the larger Crow band they’d passed yesterday. Most of the natives were friendly and hospitable to a man or two coming into their village with peaceful intentions.
But having these four women in his care made the stakesconsiderably higher. They were such a novelty to everyone in this land—trapper and native alike. It was hard to know how each man or group of people, or even the native women, would respond to the Collins sisters.
And he couldn’t take chances that weren’t absolutely necessary. His father had once said it was a man’s responsibility to protect the women in his charge. He’d certainly not planned to take on that role with the Collins sisters, but they’d brought no one else to do the job, and he couldn’t stand by when they needed help. Needed someone who knew the lay of the land and the ways of its people.
If only they would let him handle the search on his own. But they’d made it clear they wanted to be part of every step along the way.
When they’d ridden halfway across the valley, the stirring of figures in the lodges showed they’d been spotted. As they drew near the camp, two men stepped outside the circle of homes. One wore his long gray hair in a single bundle down his back, but the other looked much younger. Perhaps around twenty years old. With six lodges, he would expect at least ten men here, since extended families often lived within a single shelter. These two must be leaders among them. The chief, maybe, and perhaps his grandson, a young warrior being molded into a future chief.
Riley greeted them from atop his horse, using the hand talk, but he also spoke aloud in English for the benefit of the women. If only he’d spent more time learning the tongues of the individual tribes. The sign language had always seemed enough, since all the nations in this area spoke and understood it. The Blackfoot tongue, in particular, was said to bechallenging—almost impossible to learn unless one lived among the tribe for years.
The older man responded with a stilted greeting, and his face showed wariness. He was mostly looking at the women, and his gaze drifted to Juniper far more than to her sisters.
Riley’s body tensed more, but he did his best to show only confidence. “We are looking for a woman. Can we come into your village and ask about her?”
The younger man’s hands hung by his side, but at Riley’s words, the fingers on his right curled toward his palm.
Toward the handle of his tomahawk.
Riley didn’t let his focus linger there but kept stock of the young man’s movements as he focused on the elder’s answer.
The older fellow gave a slow dip of his chin, then signed a response.You are our honored guests.
Thirteen
No lads trotted out from among the lodges to water the horses this time. Riley glanced over at Juniper and Rosemary, who’d been riding beside him, and kept his voice low. “They don’t seem as friendly as the others, but they’re allowing us to come in and ask. Why don’t one or two of you come with me, and the others stay out here with the horses?”
Would it be better for Juniper to go inside where he would be nearby to protect her from the natives’ curiosity about her piercing blue eyes? Or remain outside of camp with her sisters? These strangers might act on their curiosity either way. As opposed as he was to bringing her into camp, he’d feel better having her close.
Rosemary leaned forward to swing her leg over her saddle. “June and I will go with you. Lorelei, you and Faith stay with the horses. And whatever you do, don’t let that pup get loose.”
Heavens above, don’t let the pup get loose. That would be the very last thing they needed. The animal had done pretty well on the journey so far, except for whimpering severaltimes in the night. While they rode, it seemed content to stay tucked in Miss Lorelei’s arm or walking alongside her with a cord tied around its neck and shoulders in a harness. He’d never have imagined a wild coyote could be tamed so well.
He led the way into the village, following the chief. Juniper and Rosemary stayed close behind him, and the younger man turned and strode after them.
It took everything in Riley not to stop and move the women in front of him, so he could be the protective barrier between them and the young warrior. But that would show fear on his part and lack of trust, both things that would lower their respect of him and make these hosts more likely to turn hostile.
The chief led them to a cook fire in front of one of the largest lodges and lowered himself to sit. The younger man stepped inside the lodge, disappearing into the darkness within. No women approached to take Juniper and Rosemary away, though many clustered at the door flaps of almost every lodge in the group.
Riley motioned for Juniper and Rosemary to sit beside him. They did so with a grace that showed their bravery, though they crowded close, both to each other and to him. Juniper’s skirt touched his leggings all the way down.
He had to fight to ignore the warmth of having her so near. Had to work to focus on the leathery lines on the face of the man in front of him.
The chief drew out a long pipe decorated with feathers and braided leather. After he blew a long stream of sweet-smelling smoke, he handed the piece to Riley.
He’d never developed a preference for the taste of the kinnikinnick that many tribes in this area smoked, but theritual of sharing the pipe meant peace between them—and he appreciatedthata great deal.
After blowing out his own stream of smoke, Riley didn’t offer the pipe to the women. Back in the world they came from, women didn’t smoke, at least not publicly that he knew of. And in this culture, women weren’t often invited to the council circle at all.
The chief reached to take the pipe back, and Riley handed it over. The man tapped his chest and spoke a sound too quick to understand. Then he signed the wordsSon of Owl.
Riley nodded and pointed to himself. “Riley Turner.” He motioned to Juniper and spoke her name, then the same with Rosemary.
