just thisâ¦limb.â Her voice trailed off and broke. He realized she was on the verge of tears.
Black Sun exhaled sharply. He might have dismissed her story as a womanâs imagination, but the huge, fresh pug marks in the earth gave testimony to the truth. He should never have left her here alone.
âYou shot at the cat and missed, and now youâre sitting there expecting to beat it off with a stick.â He was angry at himself, not at her, but when Charity straightened her spine and thrust out her chin, it was clear that she hadnât understood things that way.
âYes,â she declared. âIt was all I could find. I didnât want the cougar to attack the horses.â
âYouâre sure you missed? We canât leave a wounded cat out there.â
âIâm sure. The bullet knocked this limb off a tree. Stop treating me like a child.â She shot him a scathing look. âDid you find the Blackfoot?â
âYes.â He strode toward the horses, glancing back at her as he untied their tethers. âThey were camped for the night. Weâd have been fine. But your gunshot changed all that. Theyâll be after us as soon as they can round up their horses. Weâve got to get moving.â
âIf you hadnât gone off and left me for cougar bait, thereâd have been no gunshot.â She scooped the little weapon into her pocket and staggered to her feet, swaying with exhaustion. Sheâd been remarkably brave, Black Sun thought, but this was no time to tell her so.
Pain rippled across her moon-pale face as he helped her mount, but she did not cry out. âWhere are you taking me?â she asked.
âThat depends on how far we can ride before the horses give out.â Black Sun caught the lead of the packhorse and swung the animal into line. Best not to mention the forbidden canyon. As a white woman, she would not understand the importance of respecting sacred ground, and she might argue for stopping there.
Nudging the dun pony, he started out of the clearing at a brisk trot. There would be other hiding places beyond the canyon. The trick would be to reach them without being discovered. The Siksika would lose a little time catching their mounts, but they had the advantage of speed and endurance. Riding double and with an injured woman, Black Sun calculated, he would not be able to stay ahead of them for long. Even if he were to unload the packhorse, progress would be slow, and the two of them would have to do without much-needed food, clothing and blankets.
Charity held on to him tightly as they picked their way down a creek bed to hide their trail. The hands that gripped his ribs were small and cold. What was she thinking? he wondered. Was she mourning her husband, the father of her child? Had the man been good to her? Had she loved him? But such questions were none of his concern, Black Sun reminded himself. Charity Bennett was not, and never would be, his woman.
Her belly pressed the small of his back, so close that Black Sun could feel the thrust of a small foot against his spine. The movement sent a strange, warm quiver through his body, but he quickly steeled himself against it. He could not let himself feel anything for this white woman and her unborn child. His only aim was to get her back to her own people before the time came for her to give birth.
And how soon would that be? It was not a seemly question to ask a woman, but her time had to be close at hand. And if her pains started here in the wilderness, with only his unskilled hands to help her, she could die.
Like his mother.
Like his wife.
âTell me how you learned English.â Her voice startled him in the darkness. Earlier he had found her personal questions irritating, but Black Sun had since come to realize that she made such careless talk to take her mind off her fear and the pain of her blistered back, so he resolved to be patient.
âI learned English from the
Learning to Kill: Stories