Lorelei pushed to her feet as the brave left the calf and slipped to the barn opening. He disappeared outside without a word, leaving her with a knot of panic twisting her gut. Should she stay with Curly or see what was happening?
The latter. She had to know what threat faced them now. She scooped up the pail of salt water and carried it with her, lest Curly try to drink it, even though he had a bucket of fresh water in his stall. She could come back to clean and wrap the hoof later.
When she reached the barn doorway, the sight halted her midstep. A vast line of Natives rode through their valley along the river, a line that stretched nearly from one end to the other. She couldn’t even see the tail end from this viewpoint.
There must be at least a hundred. Nay, two or three hundred. An entire Native city, from the looks of things. Manyof the horses carried high loads of furs and packs, and some dragged lodgepoles behind them.
She scanned the yard for White Horse and Riley. The two stood to her left beside the barn, as though trying to hide in the building’s shadow. She sat down the pail of salt water and closed the door behind her, then shifted over beside White Horse.
“What are they doing?” She kept her voice low so it didn’t carry over the open space.
“Moving to new camp.” White Horse matched her quiet tone.
“What tribe are they?” She couldn’t find any distinguishing marks, but he’d likely spotted some.
“Sioux.”
White Horse was Peigan Blackfoot. Were they at odds with the Sioux? She couldn’t recall him saying much about the tribe, so hopefully not.
The front of the parade had halted near the end of the valley, and the leaders appeared to be speaking among themselves.
“Where do you think they’re going?” The line would have to spread nearly single file to ride through the mountain pass. That was the only way out of the valley unless they crossed the river. With the spring thaw flowing down from the mountains, the water level was at its highest since they’d first arrived here last autumn. Crossing could be treacherous with all these children and supplies. Yet crossing the pass would be a challenge for some of the horses that carried long lodgepoles.
“I think they camp here.”
As White Horse’s words sank through her, Lorelei beganto understand. Even now, the middle sections of the group had reached the front and had also halted, spreading wide in a large rectangle. Many of the people were pointing, as though laying out where lodges should be erected.
And why not? This valley stretched long and had plenty of water and grass. The land was protected on all four sides by mountains, though the wind still had plenty of room to sweep through. At least the peaks protected them from the worst snowstorms.
A bawling from behind her snagged her attention.The calf. Did they know about Curly? Had he been part of the incentive for them to move their village to this place?
What would this mean for her family and their own massive herd? Right now, they were keeping the horses mostly at the far end of the valley with rope fencing they’d made, moving them every few weeks to new grass so there would always be fresh grazing. Now the new herd with this village would eat the grass she and her sisters had been saving.
And were these strangers a danger to them? She knew well that each person should be taken as an individual, not an entire race of people marked as dangerous or not. Yet in a group this size, at least a few bad apples existed—unscrupulous men or wily women who would cause trouble.
And what of Curly? Even if these Sioux didn’t yet know of him, she couldn’t hide him in the barn forever. Hadn’t the story White Horse told them of the white-buffalo-calf woman originated with the Sioux tribe? They might come night and day to gawk at, or even worship, the calf.
Lord, no. The urge to hoist him up on her mare’s backand take him to Tanner’s trading post screamed within her.
But the idea tore at her heart. Maybe that was the right answer for later but not so soon. It would be too hard to let him go, plus there was the added complication of the hoof infection. Could there be another solution?
eleven
Lorelei stared out at the Indian band gathering by the river and voiced the question spinning inside her. “What should we do?” She turned to White Horse and Riley for an answer.
Someone should ride to the herd to get Rosie and Faith. Why hadn’t her sisters come back to the house already? The line of travelers would have passed right by them. A new fear clutched her chest. Had something happened to either woman? Maybe they were simply securing the horses before they rode to the house.Lord, keep them safe.
She’d been sending a lot of those desperate pleas heavenward lately but hadn’t spent quiet time in prayer in a while. There was always so much to do, especially since Curly came. She usually managed to fit in her morning Bible reading, but one of her sisters or the animals often kept her distracted or cut the time short.I’m sorry, Lord.I’ll mend my ways soon.
A motion to her left jerked her focus that way. Rosemary and Faith rode toward them at a steady trot. They lookedunscathed, though their expressions were hard and grim. After they reined in and dismounted, her sisters stood on Riley’s other side, all of them still watching the newcomers.
“How many do you think there are?” Faith’s voice held more awe than fear.
Riley might have been waiting for White Horse to answer, but when he didn’t speak, Riley said, “I’d say close to three hundred, counting the children. More than that number in horses.”
“What should we do?” Rosie asked the same question Lorelei had voiced a few minutes before.
Riley looked to White Horse. “Should we go meet them?”
