hapter 9

When Rachel opened her eyes again she was lying in the shade of the trees by the pond with a blanket from the wagon around her. Her horse was grazing in a glade not far from her with the wagon still hitched to it. She still felt very groggy and she had a headache. She struggled into a sitting position, her hand going to her face at the same time. What's this? she thought as her fingers came in contact with a rough bandage that had been bound round her head. She wondered how long she had been unconscious, but she suspected it hadn't been for very long. She shivered as the memory of what had happened slowly came back to her. Slowly her thoughts cleared. The last she remembered was that she had been aiming her rifle at a man whom she hadn't been able to see clearly. As she sat up she felt the headache come back with increased force. I hope I haven't got a concussion, she thought, as she looked for her rifle. It was nowhere in sight, and suddenly she had to fight a feeling of fear. Swallowing hard she managed to suppress it when in the corner of her eye she saw a man approach her. She turned and suddenly she felt fear take a new grip on her, as she couldn't take her eyes of the newcomer.

The man approaching her was all clad in soft buckskin, from the boots, the fringed trousers to the long shirt. His hair was parted in the middle and on one side it was collected into a plait covered in fine fur. From the back of his head she could just make out two eagle-feathers protrude. The dark handsome face with it's sharp features showed no anger and had no paint as was the custom in case the tribe was at war. Rachel realised that this must be the man that had saved her and taken care of her wound. Still she could not let go of her fear. Anxiously she watched him come closer. The man watched her watch him and without hesitation he placed himself a bit away from her. Close enough to be able to give her a water canteen but far enough for her to feel a bit safer. This surprised Rachel, as did the gentle calmness in the dark eyes that search her face. Strangely enough she had a feeling that it was something familiar about the face, something around the mouth and the nose. She accepted the water with a trembling hand as she swept the blanket tighter around her. She could feel the tear in her blouse and was thankful for the blanket. Taking a mouthful of water she handed the canteen back, waiting for what would happen next. She looked behind the Indian, expecting to see more warriors, but there was none. Again turning her eyes to the man before her, she wondered if he understood English. She didn't have to wonder for long.

"Are you feeling better?" The question was asked calmly as he search her face for signs of fear.

"Why --yes. Thank you," Rachel could hear how croaked she sounded. The man nodded his consent with her answer as he dabbed a rag with water and handed it over to her. Rachel accepted it thankfully. Dabbing it in her face made her feel a lot better. She looked hesitantly at the man.

"Was it you that shot at the men?" she asked finally.

"Yes."

Rachel hesitated, but then she realised that she had to ask.

"Why?"

"They were gonna hurt you." The reply was more a statement than an answer. Rachel shook her head, which caused her to frown from an intense headache at the movement.

"That was none of your concern," she insisted.

The man gazed out over the pond before he answered.

"You fought bravely." The answer did nothing to help her understand his actions.

"I don't understand."

"Is it important?"

The question caught her off guard. She looked at him. If it was important? She didn't know. She hadn't thought of it like that.

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not."

"You should rest before you return. You hit your head badly when you fell."

That's why she had a bandage around her head. She had forgotten the punch and her fall. Thinking about it she could feel a slight tenderness in her face and she touched it carefully. The man was still watching her and suddenly she had this strange feeling that he wanted something from her, and she looked up at him, staring him into the eyes. If there was something wrong she wanted to know it now. Eyes that seemed to have seen every heartache known to man gazed back at her, as deep wells, and suddenly she felt a bit strange and averted her eyes.

"You're from Sweetwater?"

There it was, she thought, there was something he wanted to know. Maybe she shouldn't answer? She looked at him again and decided she should. He'd save her from being raped, so she could very well answer his questions.

"Yes, sort of."

"You know the Pony Express Station?"

Now she was getting wary. What did he want? Although suspicious she couldn't help feeling there was honesty in the man's questions. She took a deep breath.

"I work there."

A faint smile passed over the man's face, and Rachel could help seeing how different he looked when the smile softened the otherwise stern countenance of the man.

"Then you know my brother, Running Buck. He rides for the Pony Express."

Rachel stared at the man. This was Buck's brother, Red Bear, the war chief? She tried to smile at him, suddenly feeling more at ease. Then he must be Wun-oan-to-mee's father, she pondered.

"I know him. He went to see you and came back with your daughter. You're Red Bear."

The man nodded and turned an anxious face towards her.

"How is she? How's my daughter?"

"She's doing fine. We've sent for help." She wondered how much he should tell him.

"Will she be well?"

"I--I don't know. There's hope though. Buck's been by her side all night."

Red Bear frowned.

"Running Buck had a bruise in his face - there's no trouble with her staying?"

"No." Rachel looked at him as if she couldn't believe that he had asked such a thing, when she realised that he was probably as wary of them as she was of Indians. "No," she repeated, "she's welcome. Nobody would hurt her." As she uttered the last words, she suddenly remembered what she had told Teaspoon only hours before and she felt ashamed. Red Bear sat in silence looking over the pond and a strange feeling that she had nothing to fear from this man made her ask more questions.

"Are your men with you?"

"Out here? No, I came alone."

She wondered why, but there was another question she wanted to have answered first.

"Are you or your men responsible for the raids around Blue Creek?" Rachel knew instantly that she'd crossed a line, though she wasn't sure what line it was. He turned his head and fired off a thunderbolt with his eyes that was like being hit with physical force. If Rachel staggered, it was inwardly. She understood that it had been her question that had triggered the reaction, but she was surprised of how it felt. Like a body slam. One look and he had taken the breath from her lungs, and she suddenly realised why he was a war chief. Rachel knew that she had insulted him with the question, but there was no way of taking it back.

"I didn't mean to--" she started when the anger subsided in Red Bear's face.

"There's not much trust between our people," he said with a sad voice. "My people have not raided those farms," he added sternly, "we're too few to start a war."

"I don't know why I asked," Rachel said, suddenly feeling an urge to explain herself. "My mother was killed in an Indian attack. I was only a teenager, but the fear seemed to linger on." She tried to smile, but failed miserably.

Red Bear looked at the young woman. She had a bruise in her face and loose strings of golden hair hang around her face. He wondered what it was that had prompted him to save her. When he first had seen the situation, his first thought had been to ride out of there, to leave matters of the white to the white. Then he had seen her readiness to fight and her brave appearance in front of the men and he had changed his mind. Maybe it was the memory of his mother or simply the fact that there was something about this woman. He couldn't put his finger on it, yet. To discover that she was working at the Express Station had been a relief as the news that although his daughter wasn't well, she was no worse either. He wanted this woman to reassure him that his daughter was safe. He trusted his brother with his life, but one man could only do so much, and Running Buck couldn't stay awake forever. Red Bear knew that he should be on his way, leaving this woman to get back to her home, but something kept him by her side. He had never spoken to a white woman before like this and this one was intriguing. He couldn't remember speaking to white people like this before either. He could sense that there was a strong feeling of loyalty and love in this woman, and he begun to wonder about her. He wanted to know more of the world that his half-brother had chosen before the tribe and he had a feeling that Running Buck wouldn't tell him. He loved his little brother with all his heart, but sometimes it where as if they were speaking on different levels. Maybe this woman held some of the answers, he pondered. So he stayed.

"Will my daughter be safe?"

"At the station? Yes." Suddenly Rachel realised how silly it sounded. Moments ago she'd accused Red Bear of murder and now she was trying to convince him that nothing would happen to Wun-oan-te-mee.

"If you say so, I will believe you."

Rachel felt herself blush with shame. She had done nothing for him to believe in her and yet he did.

"It must be hard on you and your wife," she said.

"My wife was killed three years ago." There was still pain in his voice. Rachel could hear that.

"I'm sorry. I lost my husband a year ago and ---" She silenced.

"Indians?" Red Bear looked at her with sympathy.

Rachel shook her head.

"No. White men."

Suddenly she felt that this was absurd. Here she was, sitting in the middle of nowhere, having small-talk with a war chief wanted by the army. She realised that she was tired and that her head hurt. She closed her eyes and bent her head forward. Suddenly she felt a hand beneath her chin and she looked up in the concerned eyes of Red Bear.

"You're tired. I'm sorry I have kept you from returning."

"No, it's OK," Rachel said as a mixture of feelings rushed through her. The touch, however gentle, had suddenly set her heart beating, and she had a feeling that she'd better leave.

"I need to get back," she murmured. "The riders will look for me."

"I must leave too." Red Bear's hand was still gently holding her chin. There's fire in this woman, he thought, looking into her eyes. Fire in her hair and in her eyes. He let his hand softly touch her cheek.

"Thank you for taking in my daughter."

"I'll look after her for you." Suddenly Rachel felt scared leaving the security of Red Bear's company. Red Bear saw her hesitation.

"The men are gone. They will not come back."

"How do you know?"

"I know. Trust me."

Red Bear rose with agility and held out his hand to help her to her feet. He helped her over to the wagon and handed her the reins after she had stepped up.

"You will be fine," he assured her.

"Thank you," Rachel said again and collected the reins. When she turned to say goodbye, Red Bear was gone. It was as if he'd never been there. She shook her head and urged Clodhopper forward. It was time she came home.

Chapter 10

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