“Came back to talk.” He pointed to them. “Last night. I wait for sun. See horses.” He motioned up the hill where the herd grazed just over the rise. “Sun come. See you.” He nodded to Juniper. “See him. I wait. Watch. Hide.” He motioned to one of the boulders she had walked past just ahead of Slim’s rifle. White Horse must have been hiding behind it. Thank the Lord he’d realized she needed help.
While he spoke, she gripped Rosie’s hand, and Riley slipped an arm around her waist. She leaned into him, absorbing his solid strength beside her.
Rosie was the first to answer White Horse. “I want to hear the whole story, but I’m so thankful you were here.” She squeezed Juniper’s hand. “We’re all thankful.”
Juniper sniffed again. “Slim’s men are waiting for his signal to come move the horses. If we move quickly, maybe we can catch them.”
Sounds of feminine voices rang from the other side of the slope. Her sisters. It was hard to believe only minutes before she’d been praying desperately for God to save them all.
And He had.
Her gaze found White Horse, and he met her look with strong, dark eyes. She never would have believed the Lord would use this man to answer her prayers.
Juniper sat in their camp with Riley on one side and Rosie on the other, and Faith and Lorelei tucked behind her. They’d stayed in a cluster since everyone had returned to camp, almost as if the girls formed a fence around her. Just now, having them close suited her fine.
They’d not found any of Slim’s men. Maybe the rifle shot had scared them all off. Dragoon had posted himself as lookout, standing watch over the herd. If he ever found any of the men who’d helped Slim steal Bessie, she didn’t want to be that fellow.
For now, she was content to sit with her sisters and friends. She’d just finished detailing the events of the morning and answering their many questions. If only she’d had time to ask Slim more about their father. But she’d barely managed to learn what she had.
Now it was White Horse’s turn to speak.
He sat across camp from them, looking more comfortable than she would have expected. Silence settled over them as they waited for White Horse to begin.
“You search for Steps Right. She is my mother.”
A gasp slipped out before Juniper could contain it.
“Your mother?” Rosie spoke the question bouncing through Juniper’s mind.
He gave a single nod.
So many thoughts rose up inside her. “Where is she? Why didn’t you tell us that before?”
He studied them, as though struggling over how much to tell.Lord, please let him tell us everything. Let there be no more secrets.
After a moment, White Horse seemed to make a decision within himself. “She has been sent away.”
Once more, shock washed through her, but this time she held it inside. She should have expected something like this with the way people’s demeanor changed when Steps Right’s name was mentioned.
“My mother is great healer. She has helped many people in her life. Many who others left for dead, she would not leave. When our chief’s son was sick, they called her to heal. She stayed by his side through night and day. He started to heal. Then his father, Son of Owl, began to grow . . .” His brow furrowed as he seemed to search for a word. He looked over at Ol’ Henry and spoke something in a native language.
“Suspicious.” Ol’ Henry supplied the word with a nod.
White Horse turned back to them, his mouth tasting the sounds before he spoke them. “Suss–pi–cious.” He straightened as he prepared to continue his story. “He has not ever trusted my mother, though neither will tell me why. When his son, the father of Flies Ahead, died, they both say my mother has done it. They will kill her if she does not leave our people. So she has gone away. And then you come, asking about her. I worry your mind has been poisoned byour chief. But when I reach village, he grumbles about you. Now I want to know why you come.”
Juniper met Rosemary’s gaze. So much of what they’d experienced in their search now made sense.
Rosie took the lead, turning back to White Horse. “Our father knew your mother many years ago when he came to this land. When he died, he asked us to return something to her.” Rosie stood and moved to the pack where they kept the beads. She knelt to unwrap them from the fur-lined leather case Papa had kept them in.
Juniper glanced at White Horse to see his reaction as Rosemary lifted the strand and turned to walk to him. The moment recognition dawned, his eyes widened. Her sister wouldn’t have seen his first expression, but she couldn’t miss his rapt attention now.
“Do you recognize this?” She paused in front of him, then dropped to her knees so she held the necklace at eye level.
“My mother has arm necklace like this.” He wrapped his fingers around his wrist like a bracelet. “She tells story of this necklace. When young squaw. She and her sister hunt during the cold moon. My father and other warriors had gone far to hunt, but women hungry, so they walk. Find food. She find man. White man hurt. Head hot like fire.” He pressed a palm to his own forehead.
“Not live in night unless get help. My aunt walk to village, get help and healing plants. My mother stay with white man. Make shelter, stop wind. Make fire, keep warm in night. Keep white man live. Give white man blue beads. White man tell story for each bead, story about love.” White Horse looked from Rosemary to Juniper. “White man tell story about woman and daughters’ love.”
A tingle spread over Juniper’s arms, even as pain squeezed her heart. Oh, Papa. She’d known he loved them. He’d shown it every time he took them for horseback rides, or told stories in the evening, or taught them the inner workings of the ranch, of his life. But more than that, it was the way his eyes shone when he caught sight of one of them. That look of love sparkled in their depths. Even these past years, when he’d sank into melancholy in their Richmond home, he’d still worked hard for a smile for any of his daughters.
