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“Oh. When two people who don’t see eye to eye work things out so they do see eye to eye, we call that a meeting of the minds.”

His despair mounting, Dega almost groaned out loud. Somehow they had gone from minds to eyes and back again. Here he wanted her to be proud of how well he talked, but again and again he became mired in confusion. Part of the problem was that he couldn’t grasp the nuances of the white tongue.

“Don’t look so glum. You’re doing fine. My pa says that when he first met my ma, they had to communicate by sign for the longest time. She picked up his tongue quick, but he had to work hard at learning Shoshone.”

The mention of sign caused Dega to glance at the Arapaho, who was staring sadly into the flames. Dega imagined he was thinking of the friends he had lost. Dega should feel sympathy, but he felt something else. “Think maybe I learn sign talk quick.”

“I’ll teach you if you want, but it might be better to stick with English until you get that down.”

Dega looked across the fire, into her eyes. “You like him?”

“Who?”

Dega nodded at the Arapaho.

“He’s nice enough,” Evelyn allowed. She remembered the look Dega had given her earlier, and her intuition flared. “Why do you ask? You’re not jealous, are you?”

“What be jealous?”

Evelyn hesitated. He might take it the wrong way. “Jealous is when you like someone and don’t want anyone else to like them.”

“No. I not jealous.” Dega wasn’t being honest. He had felt a twinge of…something…when she was signing to Plenty Elk. Something he never felt before, something raw and hot and disturbing.

“Oh.” Evelyn was disappointed.

Waku had been listening with keen interest without being obvious he was listening. His wife’s comments had kindled his curiosity. As near as he could make out, though, his son and Evelyn King did not act as he and Tihi did when they courted. If they were in love, they were hiding it, even from themselves. Yet there was no denying the looks they gave each other, usually when the other wasn’t looking. As he saw it, it would be a good while before they grew close enough to contemplate sharing the same lodge—his, or any other.

From out of the dark came a grunt.

Evelyn leaped to her feet with her Hawken in her hands. “That was a bear.” She hoped a black bear and not a grizzly. The latter was much more likely to attack.

Dega rose, too, and notched an arrow to his bow. “Fire keep bear away.”

“Not a griz. Not if it’s hungry enough.”

Everyone listened and waited in tense expectation. The grunt was repeated, only closer.

Turning, Evelyn saw a pair of glowing eyes. They were almost on a level with her own. “Don’t anyone do anything rash,” she whispered. “Dega, translate for your mother and sisters.”

Eager to please her, Dega did.

Little Miki edged over to Tihi and clasped her arm. “Mother?”

“Be still and it will go away.”

Plenty Elk stood and faced the bear. Raising his arms above his head, he let out with a loud screech.

Evelyn jerked the Hawken to her shoulder. She had her thumb on the hammer, ready to curl it back, but the bear wheeled and melted into the darkness with a parting snort. Forgetting herself, she said to the young warrior, “That was a darned fool stunt. You could have gotten us killed.”

Plenty Elk lowered his arms. ‘Question. What you speak?’

Leaning the Hawken against her leg, Evelyn signed, ‘You maybe make bear mad. Bear attack.’

‘Bear no like war cry. Bear always go.’

Not always, but Evelyn let it drop. She added chips to the fire so the flames blazed brighter, then scanned the night for glowing eyes. Only when she was convinced the monster had left did she sit back down, cross-legged, with the Hawken in her lap. She wouldn’t be able to sleep for hours now. “Stupid bear,” she muttered.

“Why people no be nice?” Dega asked.

Coming as it did out of the blue, the question mystified Evelyn. “Where did that come from?”

“Nice come from heart.”

“No, I mean, why did you ask?”

“White men who kill my people. Scalp men who take hair for money. Other bad men. Why people no be nice?”

“You’re asking me?”

“I just do ask.”

Evelyn chuckled. “I’ve wondered the same thing since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. The answer I came up with is that some people are naturally nice and some aren’t.”

“That all?”

“What more do you need?”

“Scalp men have hearts with no nice.”

“I couldn’t have put it better, myself. So when the time comes, don’t hold back. It will be them or us.”

Dega stared at his mother and father and sisters. “I no want it be us.” He smiled. “I no want it be you.”

Evelyn King grew warm all over.

Chapter Nine

The scalp hunters were in good spirits. The scent of prey was in the wind and the only thing they liked more than the hunt was spending the money they made from scalping the hunted.

Venom had sent Rubicon on ahead to track. As usual, his men were strung out behind him in a line. They raised less dust that way. When one of his men came up beside him he didn’t look to see who it was. He knew. “Keep this up and I’ll get good and mad.”

“It’s about the girl,” Logan said.

“Which girl? There are two red and one white.”

“The white girl,” Logan amended. He hesitated, cleared his throat, and declared, “I want her.”

“You haven’t even set eyes on her yet.”

“I still want her.”

“Do you, now?” Venom didn’t keep the scorn out of his voice. “You must be confused. The rule has always been that each of us gets to keep the scalps of the redskins we kill. When it comes to other spoils, it’s share and share alike.”

“You can make an exception if you want.”

“I don’t want,” Venom said.

Logan frowned and shifted in his saddle. “Damn it. Why not? I’ll pay the others a share of my scalp money if that’s what will persuade you.”

“You’d do that?”

“I need a woman. I need a woman bad. You wouldn’t understand because you don’t get the itch like I do.”

“What else?” Venom prompted.

“How do you mean?”

Venom almost struck him. “You must take me for a fool. What’s the real reason you want this white girl when you could have the Injun girls or their mother?”

Logan looked away. “You think you have me figured out.”

“Go annoy someone else.” Venom went to lift his reins.

“All right, all right.” Logan swore, then said, “I want her because she’s white. I don’t often get to do white girls, not how I like to do them, anyhow. It’d get me strung up faster than anything.”

“So you reckon to have this white girl all to yourself? Take your sweet time doing those awful things you do?”

“You’re a fine one to talk.”

Venom enjoyed baiting him. “The answer is still no.”

Logan scowled and opened his mouth but closed it again and visibly controlled himself. “I’m asking you nice.”

“Are you now?” Venom smirked. “Have I ever told you how I feel about nice? Nice is for the weak. Nice is for the puny. Nice is for those too soft to take what they want. So they go around being nice to everybody and hope to get it that way.”

“Damn it all.”

“I’m not finished. Nice is for farmers and town folk and those who have blinders on. They think the world is a nice place to live. They think God is nice and they should be the same. Nice is stupid.”

“Rub my nose in it, why don’t you?”