Her Cheyenne Warrior. Lauri Robinson

said softly. “I do not want to have to translate every word said.”

      “Of course he has our word,” Meg said before turning to the rest of their misfit group. “Doesn’t he?”

      Twittering like little birds, Betty and Tillie agreed instantly. Lorna, looking at Meg, shook her head, until the pleading in her friend’s eyes was more than she could take. Then she turned to him. “I won’t make any promises.”

      He said something to Little One, and though Lorna didn’t know the words, she understood the meaning. It was as close to I told you as if he’d spoken those exact words.

      Little One and Black Horse started conversing again, but stopped quickly when the older woman made a hissing sound.

      The top of Lorna’s head started tingling as the woman’s deep-set eyes glared her way.

      “Speaking Mo’ohta Mo’ehno’ha knowledge will split tongue like snake,” the old woman said.

      Meg whispered, “Mo’ohta Mo’ehno’ha means Black Horse.”

      Lorna had figured that out by the way the old woman had pointed at him. Although One Who Heals reminded Lorna of an old crone in a nightmarish fairy tale, she wasn’t falling for any such foolery, nor was she scared. She’d stopped believing in fairy tales—good and bad ones—years ago. “No, it won’t.”

      Expecting a full argument, Lorna was taken aback when One Who Heals merely shrugged.

      “Agree,” Meg said coldly. “For once, Lorna, just agree.”

      “I’ve been agreeing with things—”

      “This time your life depends on it,” Meg interrupted. “All our lives depend on it.”

      All of their lives had been depending on things since they started this journey west, so that wasn’t anything new.

      “What if that was your sister?” Betty asked quietly, “Wouldn’t you want—”

      “No,” Lorna snapped. There was no one in her family she ever wanted to see again. She had no siblings, but that wasn’t the issue. Letting the air out of her lungs, as hard as it was, she had to admit, at this moment in time, conceding was her best choice. “Fine,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.” It wasn’t as if any of the Indians would understand her anyway. Not unless they also knew English, like their leader. Some leader he was, keeping secrets from his people.

      All eyes were on her, but no one spoke. When the silence grew thick, Lorna sighed again. “I said I won’t tell anyone.”

      The glint in Black Horse’s eyes said he didn’t believe her, but he turned toward Meg. “Why you say Ayashe your sister?”

      “Because she is,” Meg answered. “She was captured when our wagon train was attacked ten years ago. By the Dog Men of a Southern Cheyenne band. She was six, and I was ten.”

      “Why not capture you?” he asked.

      Lorna’s teeth dug deeper into her bottom lip. She wanted to hear Meg’s answer, but could see the tears glistening in her friend’s eyes, and that made her angry with Black Horse for asking. If Meg had wanted to share that part, she already would have. When Meg closed her eyes briefly, Lorna said, “What does that matter?”

      Black Horse gave her a cold glance before turning back to Meg.

      Meg was twisting her hands together and her lips quivered.

      “You don’t have to tell him,” Lorna said.

      Meg let out a breath and nodded. “Yes, I do.” Lifting her gaze to Black Horse, she answered, “Because I hid and they didn’t find me. My father was the wagon master. When the scout returned saying the water hole we needed to reach had dried up, he and several other men rode ahead to search for another water hole. That’s when the Indians attacked. While we were camped. I had wandered away from the wagons, not for any particular reason, just exploring as I often did. When I heard the commotion, I hid in the rocks.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I stayed there until it was over, and...and until my father returned.”

      Sitting beside Meg, Little One reached over and squeezed Meg’s hand. “I glad you did. I glad you hid and not captured.”

      “Pa never stopped looking for you,” Meg said. “He died looking for you, and I promised him I’d find you.”

      Things started clicking in Lorna’s mind. Before she could stop herself, she asked, “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? To find your sister. It wasn’t to go to California at all.”

      There was anguish in Meg’s eyes, but also honesty. “Yes. My father guided trains west every year, mainly to learn where Carolyn might be. Two years ago, when he finally admitted I was old enough, he let me join him. He’d discovered the tribe that had taken her had left her with a northern band years ago. He fell ill and died before we could head out again. No one would hire me to guide a train, and I didn’t have enough money to go out on my own.”

      Lorna’s stomach turned hard. She felt as betrayed now as she had back in England. “So you convinced me to outfit your wagon and insisted we take the northern route just so you could find her. That’s why you wanted to separate from the rest of the train, and why you said we should go swimming today, and...”

      “I said we could go swimming because we were all hot,” Meg said. “I didn’t know we were near Black Horse’s camp.”

      “But you hoped,” Lorna said. Meg’s duplicity was eating at her insides. “You were hoping and didn’t care what happened to the rest of us.” It shouldn’t surprise her. No one had ever cared what happened to her.

      “That’s not true,” Meg said softly. “I’ve cared what’s happened to all of you. I’ve—”

      “No arguing, now,” Betty piped in, although it was in a whisper. “Not in front of our hosts.”

      “Betty’s right,” Tillie said. “Besides, one for all and all for one.”

      Lorna wanted to scream, but bit her lips together.

      Meg turned to Black Horse. “I’ve been looking for my sister for ten years. She is the only family I have.”

      His arms were folded across his chest, and Lorna folded hers in the exact way. Perhaps because of the way his gaze once again moved to settle on her. She didn’t want to admit it, but her fate lay in this man’s hands. At least, for the moment it did. The very thing she’d sworn would never happen again.

      “You stay,” he said.

      “Stay?” she replied. “No, we won’t. Meg can stay, but the rest of us are leaving.”

      “No,” he said. “You stay. You all stay until Ayashe decides to return to the white world or stay with Tsitsistas.”

      “No, we won’t—”

      “Nehetaa’e!”

      His fast and harsh snap made a tingle zip up Lorna’s spine.

      Little One pulled on Meg’s hand as she stood. “My brother has said that is enough. We go now. You come my lodge.”