Climb the Highest Mountain by Rosanne Bittner Read Free Book Online

to my children.”
    He bent down to kiss her, a hungry, possessive kiss; and she knew why. She returned it just as possessively, as his strong arms wrapped around her and pressed her tight against his chest. He parted her lips, searching, branding. Then his lips moved to her cheek, her throat. “I need you, Abbie girl,” he whispered.
    “And I need you.” She hugged him tightly. “Oh Zeke, I was so afraid they’d take you away like they did that time in Denver.”
    He kissed her hair and finally released her. “Well, it’s obvious that cities and I do not mix, not that I try to get in trouble.”
    She sighed and turned to the mirror to repin her hair. “Maybe it will get better, Zeke. There’s just so much tension now, so much happening. Colorado is simply growing too fast. And this talk of railroads … It’s just so overwhelming. Everybody is on edge, and Black Elk and the others are so confused.”
    He dug for a flannel shirt, unable now to wear his muddied jacket. “Yeah. Well, they’re laying low up at Sand Creek for the winter. They figure the less trouble they make, the better off they’ll be. My brother is with Black Kettle’s band. He should be pretty safe. Black Kettle has that medal President Lincoln gave him, and he flies that big flag over his tipi. But I don’t trust Colonel Chivington and his Colorado Volunteers. I’ve heard Chivington is half crazy. The Cheyenne call him Zetapetazhetan, Big Man, Squaw Killer.” He met her eyes. “You know what that means.”
    Her heart tightened and their eyes held. “I know. And with Wolf’s Blood living with them half the time, I worry even more—especially after what happened to Lean Bear.”
    He came to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s try not to think about it for now. Let’s just hurry up and get home.”
    They left the room, just as Sir Tynes’s coach rattled out of town. Unbeknownst to any of them, Colonel John Chivington was that very day marching his Colorado Volunteers through southeast Colorado, with orders to kill any Indians they found. All redmen outside the confines of their reservation were to be considered hostiles.

Chapter Three
    The wind howled, ruthlessly stinging their faces with a mixture of sand and a light sleet. Abbie pulled her buffalo robe closer around her face just as Zeke tried to tell her something, but his voice was carried away in the wind. He urged his horse closer to hers then, grasping the throatlatch of her bridle.
    “Get on behind me!” he hollered. “My body will shelter you more from the wind!”
    “But what about you!” she yelled back.
    “You almost died on me last year, Abbie, and I’m not going to risk your getting sick again. Now get on, damn it!”
    It was too cold to argue. The short respite from winter that the Plains had enjoyed was over, and their journey was hampered by the cold wind that swept down across the Plains, the barren Colorado Plains that offered no shelter. Abbie dismounted and climbed up behind her husband on the big Appaloosa; then she took the reins of her own horse and they were off again.
    She hunkered down behind his broad shoulders, one arm about his waist, grateful for the shelter from the wind but sorry that Zeke had to face it. Still, nothing ever seemed to bother him. She could not remember hisbeing sick, except when he’d been wounded. The elements never seemed to phase him. It was as though he were a rock or a tree. She was glad he had made her bring along her knee-high winter moccasins; the warmth of the buffalo hair was welcome now. She reflected on how ingenious the Indians were at using every last part of the buffalo for survival. However, the buffalo were disappearing. When they were gone, what would the Cheyenne do for warmth and food and shelter?
    They rode for several miles, saying little, and she’d almost fallen asleep against his back when he suddenly pulled his horse to a halt. She straightened to look around, thinking they might be near