Unless someone chose to forgive.
White Horse had continued on, pointing to each track as he passed it, which left Grant mired in this painful question. If any man had the strength and integrity to forgive such an atrocity, White Horse just might be able. But would he be willing?
If an enemy hunted down and killed Will—Grant’s last blood relative—would he be able to let it go without retaliation? Probably not. And Faith . . . He’d been trying not to let his mind consider her. But if they found both women dead...
Fury surged through him, lengthening his stride and making his breath come hard.
He clenched his jaw. Little by little, she’d seeped into his life. So much that the thought of her not being there in his future ... A life like that looked far too dark to contemplate.
Faith had become light and hope in his life. She’d taughthim what it meant to be strong, to fulfill a promise no matter what the risk. And she’d done it all with a smile that radiated warmth to his deepest core.
No matter what, he couldn’t let Flies Ahead snuff out that light. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let Faith down.
But even with that determination, he had a feeling it might take a Power greater than what he and White Horse both possessed to rescue the women unharmed.
Faith studied the three braves across the camp, straining to make out anything in their Peigan tongue. Flies Ahead stood tall in front of the other two, his back to Faith, fists clenched at his sides. Though their voices were loud and heated, they spoke too quickly for her to pick out any of the words White Horse had taught her.
She glanced over at Steps Right, who sat quietly, head resting against the tree she was tied to. She must be as uncomfortable as Faith. More so, for she had the swollen ankle that must pain her.
But the older woman’s face was a calm mask, betraying little emotion as she listened to the exchange. Only the subtle tightness around her eyes and the slight downturn of her mouth hinted at concern.
“Misstapok’a!” Flies Ahead spat, the command cutting through the air. His men fell silent, watching him as though waiting for his next command. “Nitakit!”Flies Ahead flapped his hand in a shooing motion, and one of the men—the one who’d attacked her and had been gone all night—turned and sprinted into the trees.
Faith’s pulse quickened as Flies Ahead turned towardthem, his cold gaze locking on Steps Right first, then flicking to her. He started toward them, and she fought to keep her shiver from showing. She couldn’t let him know how afraid she was.
When the third man showed up that morning, she’d half expected them to pack up camp and hoist her and Steps Right back on the horses with them. Since they’d not been killed yet, surely Flies Ahead planned to take them back to his village.
But they still sat here, tied to these trees. What else could he be waiting for? More men to return from errands he’d sent them on?
Flies Ahead stopped three strides from them, the perfect position to look down on her and Steps Right without shifting his gaze.
The perfect position for her to see the hatred darkening his eyes.
He snarled, spitting out his words. “White Horse not save you.”
Though Steps Right didn’t make a sound, Faith could feel her tension even without looking at her. She didn’t dare take her focus off the fierce warrior.
“Hear now.” Flies Ahead’s tone dropped to an icy pitch. “I kill.” He pointed from Steps Right to Faith. “Slow. Much hurt.” Then his gaze locked on Steps Right again. “Your son and white man watch.”
White man?Faith’s entire body froze, her lungs refusing to draw breath. Grant? Had he returned with Will already? That seemed unlikely. He would have found his brother after dark last night. But since Will knew Steps Right, maybe he’d agreed to set out first thing this morning. Still, it didn’tseem possible Grant could have brought his brother back so quickly.
Oh, God, help us get out of this mess without anyonegetting hurt. Not White Horse or Grant. And definitely notSteps Right.
Flies Ahead glared at her, as though he’d listened to her thoughts, or maybe he saw the confusion on her face. “Punish white man for taking hunt from Flies Ahead’s gun.”
Taking hunt from Flies Ahead’s gun?Her head ached too much to decipher his meaning, especially with the broken English. Then a memory slipped in. Back when she and Grant had still been traveling with Parson’s group, she had helped Grant smoke a side of elk meat. He’d said he found the animal already killed. That the hunter had abandoned the kill. Or maybe the elk hadn’t died right away but wandered a while and the shooter hadn’t been able to find it.
She cleared her throat. “You shot the bull elk? Grant waited for the hunter to come.”
Hatred darkened the man’s gaze. “No man takes from Flies Ahead.” He flicked a gaze over his shoulder, then turned back to her. “Three times I send man to punish him. Now I make suffer.”
She stared at him. “You attacked Grant before? You followed us?”
He jerked his head toward the other man. “Crooked Knife. He run. Bring dishonor on his father’s lodge.”
All the times strange things had happened . . . those had been Flies Ahead’s doing?
He raised his chin, the act making him look even more like a chief than before. “We go to rendezvous for trade. White man steal elk. Follow to make pay.” A light flickered in his eyes. “We see son of Steps Right. The gods smile onFlies Ahead. Lead us to the one who kills the father of Flies Ahead.”
