White Wind by Susan Edwards Read Free Book Online Page A

up a small hill.
    He sensed something familiar about the quiet dark figure. He darted. Shadow to shadow. Tree to tree. His heart pounded fiercely, making breathing difficult. Not sure what he would discover, Golden Eagle only knew that he had to follow his instincts.
    On silent feet he approached from the left, dark eyes observing intently as he neared the small clearing.
    Staying down low, Golden Eagle remained hidden at a respectful distance from the white man’s burial ground. His eyes never left the boyish figure kneeling beside a wooden cross.
    Golden Eagle’s breath caught in mounting suspense as two small gloved hands lifted and removed the concealing hood.
    Stunned, he stared as long silvery-white hair spilled into the moonlight. It gleamed and shone almost as if it were a beam of light sent from the moon shining brightly above.
    It was her, dressed in the clothing of a white man! After all this time, he’d found the girl-child called Sarah again. Only now the child was a young woman, the same one who’d haunted his dreams for so long.
     
    On her knees beside her father’s grave, Sarah allowed herself a moment of self-doubt. “Oh, Pa, I hope I’m doing right. I miss you so much. Why did you have to leave me? I need you, I need you so much right now.”
    Her voice breaking, Sarah clutched the heart-shaped locket banging from her slender neck.
    Staring into the inky darkness, Sarah hoped Mary would one day forgive her. She’d left a small white square of paper addressed to Mary on the table.
    It was safer for Mary not to know where she was, at least for now. Thank goodness Willy’s arrival had not awakened Mary.
    Lifting her eyes toward the heavens, Sarah gazed at the full silvery moon through eyes misty with unshed tears. She gathered courage from the bright moonbeams as she slowly pushed herself to her feet.
    Pausing beside her mother’s grave, she caressed the time-worn cross. “Ma, I don’t remember much about you, except the picnics in our meadow. Now I know why you sometimes cried there when you thought no one would see. As a little girl I never could figure out why such a beautiful place made you sad.”
    Sarah pulled at some grass choking the wildflowers that were beginning to bloom. “Pa told me that was where my father left you and where he found you. I’m going to try to find him, Ma,” she promised.
    Though her mother had learned to love John, she’d never forgotten her Indian lover. As she had many times since learning of her true father, Sarah wondered about the man who’d befriended her mother and fathered her. She thought of the painted box and necklace carefully packed in her bag.
    She would hire a scout to find her father’s tribe. Some of the trappers had good relations with tribes in the area. Many even wintered with them, trading knowledge of ways and language. Suddenly she needed the comfort of knowing that she had family somewhere. She would find him. Saying her silent goodbyes, she squared her shoulders and left the small grave site.
    Sarah mounted her coal-black horse in one swift fluid movement, and headed toward her meadow for one last goodbye.
    Arriving at the quiet wooded area, she slowly skirted the small clearing, a black void in the night. Much like my life these days, she thought wistfully. Would she ever be free to laugh and run with the carefree abandon of her childhood?
    Saddened, she silently said her goodbyes. She knew it would be a long time before she returned, if at all. All she would have were her memories, good memories. Stopping near the spot where her Indian rescuer had once stood proudly, Sarah halted Black Lady. Slowly, she glanced around, eyes searching the darkness surrounding her. A prickling sensation traveled down her spine, almost as though she were being watched. Almost as if he were here, in her meadow, watching her.
    Shaking the odd feeling away, Sarah attributed it to the nerve-racking events of the night and the resulting lack of