The revelation hung heavy in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking in. They’d known Steps Right had been forced to leave her village—the home and friends she’d lived with her entire life—when one of her patients had died, despite her care. That patient had been Flies Ahead’s father, the man who would have become chief when his father, Son of Owl, died. Apparently, Flies Ahead hadn’t been satisfied with the punishment of sending an old woman out into the wilderness by herself. He’d decided to hunt her down too.
Faith studied White Horse as that thought settled in a different way. “Why would he search for her? He was the one who sent her away.”
“Hisgrandfathermake her leave.” White Horse was doing a remarkable job holding back his anger, though it sounded in his voice. “Flies Ahead gone when happen. Go to mountains to...” He searched for the word he wanted and found it quickly. “Grieve. For father no more.”
The situation was becoming far clearer, and her own belly churned with anger too. “So Flies Ahead returned from histime of mourning and found that the woman he wanted vengeance from had been sent away.”
White Horse didn’t answer, though the anger simmering in him tightened the air around them.
She couldn’t blame him. His mother had been living in fear, hiding in caves from a danger that he knew nothing about. She hadn’t even turned to her son for help like White Horse had been certain she would. He worked so hard to protect those he deemed friends. Learning this must bring both grief and anger.
The fire crackled softly, the only sound in the heavy silence. Would White Horse go back to his old village? Would he confront Flies Ahead? Fight him?
As if Steps Right was thinking the same thing, she spoke to him in Peigan, her gaze intense. She seemed to be instructing, or maybe trying to convince him of something.
White Horse answered in the same terse tone as before. Then silence reigned once again.
Faith had more questions, though she wondered if it would stir his anger more to voice them. If she didn’t ask now, she might not have another chance. “How did Flies Ahead know where you went? Did he find you, or did you see him before he found you?”
Steps Right’s eyes reflected the firelight. “Not find me. Warriors come. I see. I move. Not find me.”
She must have decided they’d spoken enough of her plight, for she motioned to the ground around the fire. “Sit. Eat.” She reached for a wooden bowl placed close to the fire. White Horse sometimes used the same kind of dish to cook with in his lodge.
They moved to sit by the fire, with Faith settling betweenGrant and White Horse. Grant had been quiet through the conversation, maybe thinking he was an outsider when it came to what they’d been discussing.
She glanced over at him. She wanted him to be a part of this. He’d been by her side through nearly this entire journey, after all.
The fire illuminated his face and the wet shirt that clung to his shoulders and chest, outlining the strength there. Her own damp clothing held a chill that made the fire’s warmth a welcome relief.
As Steps Right passed dishes of stew, a rich aroma rose above the scent of the campfire. Faith lifted her bowl and held it in front of her mouth as she breathed in. “This smells wonderful.”
Steps Right smiled, more with her eyes than her mouth. But her pleasure was impossible to miss.
As Faith took her first sip of broth, the savory flavor was unlike anything she’d tasted. A symphony of tastes, a testament to Steps Right’s skill with herbs and spices.
While they ate, White Horse and Steps Right spoke in their language. Faith couldn’t understand the words, but she caught the shift of concern on White Horse’s face. He seemed to ask a few more questions, then turned to Faith and Grant. “My mother is hurt.” He pointed to her ankle. “Hard to walk.”
Concern pressed in Faith’s chest, and she turned to Steps Right. “What happened? What can we do to help you?” Yet Steps Right was the healer among them. Was there anything more that she’d not been able to do on her own?
The older woman shook her head. “I fall. Need sit. Heal.”
Maybe a sprained ankle, then. Faith studied the woman’sfoot, but the way she had it positioned, her buckskin dress covered most of the appendage.
She looked back up at Steps Right. “We’ll make sure you get all the rest you need. If there’s anything you want, just ask one of us.”
Steps Right returned a kind look but didn’t seem to want to say more.
White Horse spoke up, though. “We take my mother back to the ranch. Soon.”
She met his gaze. He likely wanted to get her to a safe place, away from Flies Ahead. At the ranch, Steps Right could rest, and Faith and her sisters could help her. “When do you want to leave? Tomorrow?” That felt too soon, though. Grant hadn’t found his brother.
White Horse shook his head. “Rest tomorrow. Then leave.”
The day after tomorrow, then. She slid a quick look to Grant, but his expression was hard to read.
She reached for the used dishes and stacked them. “I’ll take these to the water for washing.” She needed a few minutes alone to think about this deluge of new information and churning emotions.
“I’ll get the horses settled where they can graze.” Grant pushed to his feet.
