He was handsome, too. Age had changed his features, as it did everyone’s. Now he had more lines on his face, but his eyes held the same twinkle. To her he was the handsomest man alive. She would never tell him that, of course. He would boast of it forever.
It was a mystery, love. Part of it was plain to understand; two people met, they were attracted, they wanted to be together. But another part, the deeper part, was a mystery to her people and, she had found, to the whites, as well. It was fine to say that love happened when one heart reached out to another. But why that particular heart out of all the hearts in the world?
Blue Water Woman stopped knitting and chuckled. Here she was, thinking thoughts more fitting for a girl who had seen but sixteen winters.
The sitting had made her stiff. She got up, put her knitting on the rocking chair, and went out. She took her rifle, as she always did, and strolled to the lake. A haze hung over it, as was common in the summer.
The lake teemed with water birds. She liked to watch them swim and dive. She particularly liked the couples, and the mothers with their little ones.
Blue Water Woman regretted not being able to give McNair children. She’d told him she didn’t, but she did. Had they wed when they were young, she would have delighted in having babies until she couldn’t have had them anymore.
Blue Water Woman stretched. She gazed across the lake, toward Zach and Lou’s cabin, barely visible on the far side. She thought she saw two people come out. One had to be Louisa; she was wearing a dress, unusual for her, as Lou preferred buckskins. The other figure was a man—and he appeared to be pushing Lou ahead of him.
Blue Water Woman blinked, and the pair were gone around a corner. She moved to her left to try and see them again, but couldn’t. Alarm spiked through her. The man couldn’t be Zach. Zach was off with Shakespeare. And anyway, Zach would never push Lou, not for any reason.
She told herself she must be mistaken. There had been no sign of strangers in the valley. But she couldn’t deny her own eyes. Quickly, she hurried to the corral and brought out her dun. She didn’t bother with a saddle. She had no need of one; she had been riding bareback since she was old enough to straddle a horse.
Mounting, Blue Water Woman jabbed her heels and brought the dun to a gallop. The wind on her face and in her hair felt nice. She glanced to the north, but she still couldn’t see the two figures.
It was a long way from her cabin to Lou’s. She passed Nate and Winona’s at the west end, and then flew along the north shore until she reined up in a swirl of dust.
The front door was wide open.
Alighting, Blue Water Woman leveled her Hawken. “Louisa? Are you in there?” When she got no answer, she warily stepped to the doorway.
Inside, it was neat and tidy, as Lou always kept it. Pans and a bowl were on the counter. Nothing looked out of place. Blue Water Woman saw no signs of a struggle. She saw Lou’s rifle propped near the door. That puzzled her. If Lou had been taken by hostiles, they would surely have taken it. Guns were as highly prized as horses.
Blue Water Woman went around the corner. The thick woodland that bordered the lake was an unbroken wall of green.
“Louisa! Where are you?”
Again, no answer.
Her dread climbing, Blue Water Woman shouted several more times. When she still got no response, she came to a decision. She moved to the water’s edge, raised her rifle over her head, and fired. The shot would carry a long way. Shakespeare and Zach had not been gone that long. They were bound to hear it and fly back.
Blue Water Woman reloaded. She debated whether to stay and wait for them or to go after Lou by herself. She really had no choice. Lou must be in trouble. The more time that went by, the greater the chance that whoever took Lou would get away.
Blue Water Woman climbed back on the dun. She reined toward the forest. Once more she called out to Lou. The silence preyed on her nerves. It was too quiet. All the birds, the squirrels, everything had gone silent. A bad omen. She wished Nate and Winona were home. She could use their help. Indeed, whoever took Lou would find her father-in-law a formidable adversary. Nate King was a superb tracker and a skilled fighter.
His son was a holy terror.
Blue Water Woman imagined that Zach would be beside himself. It wouldn’t surprise her if when Zach caught whoever took Lou—and Zach would catch him—he chopped the man into bits and pieces. Blue Water Woman cared for Zach, cared for him dearly, but there had been times, especially when he was younger, that he worried her. When his blood was up he was a rabid wolf.
Off in the trees, something moved.
She drew rein, tucked her rifle to her shoulder, and put her thumb on the hammer. But whatever she saw was gone. It might have been a deer. She waited, and when the woods stayed still, she lowered the Hawken and rode on.
Shadows dappled her and turned the vegetation into a patchwork quilt of light and dark. It played tricks on the eyes. Twice she thought she saw a two-legged shape silhouetted against the green, but either it vanished or it was never really there.
Blue Water Woman didn’t realize her mouth had gone dry until she tried to swallow. The clomp of the dun’s hooves was the only sound. She looked every which way so she wouldn’t be taken by surprise, and soon had a crick in her neck. She willed herself to stay calm and shut her worry from her mind. She must stay focused on one thing and one thing only.
A patch of white appeared. Then others, mixed with patches of brown. It took a few seconds for Blue Water Woman to recognize them for what they were—the coat of a pinto. She drew rein.
The pinto was just standing there, head bowed, dozing.
Blue Water Woman looked all around. She swung her leg over the dun and slid down. The pinto must belong to whoever had taken Lou, but where were they? She slowly advanced. As quietly as she could, she cocked the Hawken. Passing under a pine, she paused to scour the undergrowth.
A sound reached her. A low cry, muffled. She tried to pinpoint where it came from. When she heard it again, she moved cautiously. She went around a thicket—and saw Lou.
Louisa was on her side, bound wrists and ankles. She had been gagged with a piece of her dress. Her eyes were wide and she began to shake her head and thrash about.
Blue Water Woman saw no one else. She hastened to her friend, whispering, “Don’t worry. I will cut you free.”
Lou thrashed harder.
Blue Water Woman took her finger from the Hawken’s trigger and put her hand on the hilt of her knife. She heard rustling and started to turn. She wasn’t quite all the way around when a blow to her head sent her stumbling to her knees. Pain exploded. She looked up.
A warrior was poised with a large rock in his hand.
“No,” Blue Water Woman said.
The world faded to black.
Chapter Seven
Louisa King thought she was done for when the warrior gripped her by the throat and raised his knife. But instead of stabbing her, he shoved her toward the front door and came after her, pushing her when she didn’t move fast enough to suit him. She almost made a grab for her rifle. The jab of his blade low in her back dissuaded her.
Lou blinked in the sudden glare of the sun and paused. He pushed her again, toward the corner. She thought he might want her to mount her horse, but then he pushed her toward the woods.