A Yellowstone Christmas (Yellowstone Romance Series (Christmas Novella)) Page 6

  Aimee’s opportunity arrived sooner than she could have hoped. None of the men paid her or Kimana any attention. They sat around their various fires, chatting loudly and passing bowls of drink between them. Apparently two women and an infant huddled under a buffalo robe posed no threat. Aimee fought to keep her eyes open. Kimana nursed her infant, while Aimee pretended to sleep. One by one, she observed the men wrap themselves in their own heavy robes, and curl up beside the fires. After a while, only one man remained upright. He huddled in his robe, sitting stoically at the opposite end of camp. Aimee guessed he had been assigned first watch. The way he swayed back and forth told her he was more than likely asleep.

  Slowly, Aimee reached for the knife she’d managed to keep concealed all this time. She nudged Kimana’s arm. The young woman had slipped into sleep, too. Aimee knew she needed rest. Heck, they both needed rest, but it would have to wait until they were safely back at her cabin.

  Shivering in the cold night air, Aimee ached for Daniel’s arms around her. Her children’s faces flashed in her mind as they laughed and played in the snow while Daniel dragged their Christmas tree back to the cabin. Her holiday week had certainly not turned out the way she’d envisioned. There was news she was eager to share with Daniel. The thought renewed her energy.

  “Kimana,” Aimee whispered. “We need to go, now.”

  Kimana startled awake.

  “Keep your baby quiet. Let’s go.”

  “You are planning an escape?” Kimana asked, her voice uncertain.

  “Now’s the right time,” Aimee said urgently. “Come on.” She inched slowly backward away from the light of the fire, grabbing Kimana’s arm when the girl didn’t follow. The buffalo robe slid from Aimee’s shoulder, and she shivered as cold air hit her.

  “This is foolish. Brave Thunder will kill us,” Kimana whispered frantically.

  “Earlier today you told me how you saved Red Fox’s life. That was foolish, too.” Aimee’s patience was running out. She had no intention of leaving the girl behind, but their moment of opportunity was slipping away.

  “All right,” Kimana said, gathering the robe around her shoulder, and adjusting her hold on her infant. She cradled him under her shirt to keep him warm and so he could nurse at will.

  When the darkness swallowed them up, Aimee scrambled to her feet, and pulled Kimana up with her.

  “Up here, through the trees,” Aimee said. “Then we’ll head east.” She could barely see in the darkness; the half moon didn’t create much light, but she was grateful for what little there was. She only hoped her sense of direction wouldn’t fail her.

  They had already skirted around camp, heading deeper into the forest, when a twig snapped loudly behind them. Kimana froze and sucked in a loud breath of air. Aimee wheeled around to face a shadowy figure several yards behind her. In the darkness it looked like a grizzly bear, but Aimee knew it had to be the night sentry with his buffalo robe draped around him. He mumbled loudly, his bow drawn. Aimee reacted without thinking. Her hand that held her knife shot up in front of her, and she hurled the weapon through the air. A second later, a groan and a loud thud told her she’d hit her mark. Her heart beat wildly in her chest when she realized what she had just done. You save lives. You don’t take them.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered into the darkness. Kimana pulled on her arm, bringing her back to her senses. They had to leave quickly. Once the dead warrior was discovered, she was as good as dead herself.

  Mindlessly, they scrambled through the snow, darting between trees and around boulders. Luckily, the snow wasn’t as deep in the forest as it had been out in the meadows. Aimee lost track of time. She could barely keep her eyes open, much less manage to put one foot in front of the other. Her face and hands were numb from the cold. Holding on tightly to Kimana, they trudged on. Off in the distance, the darkness of night gave way to the gray light of dawn.

  ****

  Daniel dodged the low hanging branches of several young lodgepoles as he continued to follow the wide trail left by the Blackfoot war party. He hadn’t seen any evidence that the captives had been harmed. At one point, the group had stopped to rest, then continued in a northwestern direction.

  A thick veil of early morning fog hovered over the snowy landscape. The sun rose slowly over the eastern mountains, and Daniel pushed on with renewed determination. He’d barely stopped to rest all night, and he found himself no closer to his wife’s abductors than before. The deep snow in many places made travel almost impossible. Stopping to survey his surroundings, he tried to imagine where the Blackfoot could be heading. If he at least knew their destination, he could possibly find a shortcut. If he guessed wrong, it meant an even longer delay.

  Daniel wiped his gloved hand against his sweaty forehead in frustration. For the thousandth time he cursed himself. How could he let this happen? He’d vowed to protect Aimee with his life, and now she was held captive by a hostile group of Indians whose behavior was as unpredictable as the weather in these mountains.

  A flock of geese fluttered through the air; their loud honking broke the silence of the morning. A mule deer suddenly darted through the trees several yards to his right, and Daniel’s body tensed. Something had to have startled the animal for it to jump out in front of him. His grip on his bow tightened, and he focused his senses in the direction of where the deer had emerged through the trees.

  Frantic voices reached his ear. Female voices. His heart jumped to life inside his chest. Adrenaline flooded his system, and he dashed through the trees. Within moments, two figures moving between the trees caught his eye. A heavy buffalo robe was draped around their shoulders. One person stumbled, and Daniel caught a glimpse of golden hair as the other pulled her companion to her feet. She shot a look over her shoulder.

  Every cell in his body urged him to rush to his wife, but Daniel willed himself to remain cautious. Pride swelled within him. His wife had managed to escape her captors. He ducked out from between the trees to make his presence known without shouting out to her. Aimee spotted him immediately. She stopped suddenly, then called, “Daniel, look out!”

  A split second later, a large shadow emerged from between the trees to his left, and Daniel raised his bow over his head reflexively to ward off the large warrior’s blow from his war club. The ax crashed down on Daniel’s horn bow with a loud crack, the Blackfoot growling like a wolf as he tried to forcibly bring the weapon down on Daniel’s head.

  Daniel braced his arms against the impact of the ax against his bow, every muscle in his shoulders and back strained to hold off the larger man’s attack. Behind him, Aimee frantically called his name. He remained focused on his opponent, gritting his teeth as the attack became a sheer battle of strength. Inhaling a deep breath, Daniel suddenly relaxed his stance, and in the same instance stepped quickly to the side.

  The unexpected move caused the large warrior to stumble forward, his arms reaching into the snow. He regained his balance, and wheeled his body around to renew his attack. In a lightning fast move that came from years of practice, Daniel pulled an arrow from his quiver behind his back, notched his bow, took aim, and released the arrow. The deadly projectile found its mark, and the surprised Blackfoot stopped in mid-stride, then toppled face down into the snow.

  Daniel immediately notched another arrow, ready to kill his next opponent. His eyes scanned his surroundings. He neither saw nor sensed any other warriors.

  “Daniel,” Aimee called to him again. She trudged through the snow toward him, throwing the buffalo robe off her shoulders. Daniel relaxed his stance, and lowered his weapon. He met his wife halfway, and she flung herself into his arms. Daniel crushed her to him, relief flooding his system that she was unharmed.

  “I knew you’d come,” she breathed against his neck. “Are the boys all right?”

  Daniel pried her arms away from his neck, and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “They are fine,” he mumbled against her lips.

  “I want to go home,” Aimee whispered. “I
want to go home, and I want you to hold me by the fire, and I want to finally decorate my tree. I refuse to have Christmas spoiled by a bunch of troublemaking Blackfoot.”

  Despite everything, Daniel chuckled. He swept his fingers along Aimee’s cheek.

  “Where are the others?” he asked, the muscles in his jaw tensing. Aimee might merely call them troublemakers, but the Blackfoot still posed a life-threatening danger.

  “I think the only one who chased after us was Brave Thunder,” Aimee said, nodding at the body of the man lying dead in the snow. “Kimana and I didn’t notice anyone else following us after we escaped.”

  Daniel raised his head to look at the Blackfoot woman standing quietly several yards away. He offered her a slow smile.

  “For some of us, Christmas might turn into a joyous occasion after all,” he said, his eyes on Kimana. He took hold of Aimee’s hand, and led her away from the dead man. He was as eager to get back home as she was.

  Chapter 11

  Daniel set a slow pace as he led the two tired women along the easiest path he could find. He stopped often to rest, and a few times carried the brave young Blackfoot woman in his arms, while Aimee held the baby. Part of him wanted to reach his cabin as quick as possible, but he knew a hard push to reach his home was not a good idea. He decided not to mention that he and Elk Runner had found Red Fox alive. When Daniel left the cabin the previous night, the Tukudeka had still been unconscious. He had been exposed to the elements for two nights, and there was no telling whether he survived the night.

  By midmorning, Daniel killed a snowshoe hare with a well-aimed ax throw, and cooked a quick meal over a small fire. Aimee took one bite of the meat, then leapt to her feet and emptied her stomach contents in a nearby bush. Daniel rushed to her side, supporting her back while she stooped over, retching.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, for lack of something better to say.

  “Fine,” Aimee coughed. “Must be that I haven’t eaten in a while. It’ll pass in a minute.” She held her hand to her stomach, then scooped up some clean snow from the ground and wiped at her mouth.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel asked, gripping her arm. Aimee had never been ill before, not that he could recall. “We’re only an hour from home. You need rest.”

  “I’ll be fine, Daniel.” Aimee offered him a reassuring smile, and placed her hand over his. His eyes roamed her face, then he nodded. Looking up, he noticed Kimana’s gaze on Aimee, her forehead wrinkled. Her eyes darted to him, just before she quickly lowered her head, but he didn’t miss the soft upward curve of her lips. Daniel had the distinct feeling there was something he was missing.

  He covered the small fire with snow, then picked up his horn bow off the ground. Looking from Aimee to the Blackfoot girl, he said, “I know you are both tired, but it’s best that we push on to reach the cabin.” No sooner had he spoken, and the hair on the nape of his neck raised as it always did when he sensed danger. Notching his bow, he wheeled around and glared beyond the tree line. He made a motion with his hand for Aimee to get behind him and drop to the ground, and positioned himself in front of the women.

  Moments passed, and he neither heard nor saw anything. Then he caught movement between the trees, and three figures emerged. He relaxed his stance. These were not Blackfoot warriors. It was a group of Tukudeka, and even from a distance, Daniel recognized the man in front.

  “Fallen Eagle.” Daniel held up his hand in greeting, lowering his bow. He masked the surprise at seeing the shaman from one of the northern clans of Sheepeaters here in the valley. Elk Runner had told him that the clan had traveled to seek aid from their neighbors to the south after the raid, but why would they then come further east to the Madison Valley? Daniel waited for the men to approach.

  “White Wolf, it is good to see you,” Fallen Eagle greeted and held out his hand. Daniel clasped the older man’s elbow.

  “It is good to see you, Fallen Eagle. I’m sorry for the trouble that has visited your camp.”

  Daniel sensed Aimee’s presence right behind him, and he welcomed the distraction. A few feet away stood the woman who had birthed this man’s grandchild. The situation couldn’t get any stranger. Daniel was at a loss as to what to tell the shaman.

  “Dosa Haiwi, it is good to see you.” Fallen Eagle greeted Aimee with a wide smile. “You are well?”

  “I am well, Fallen Eagle,” Aimee answered respectfully.

  Daniel watched the man’s face harden suddenly. His eyes darted from her to Daniel, and then he shot a curious look at the young woman behind them.

  “As you both know, my son was taken from me last spring. All this time, I believed him to be dead. I have received word that he is, in fact, alive. The Blackfoot raided our camp searching for him and the woman he took as his wife.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Kimana approach the group of men.

  “Fallen Eagle, it is an honor to meet you,” she said softly. She glanced at Aimee, as if she was unsure of what to say next.

  Aimee stepped forward. She took hold of Kimana’s hand and pulled her to stand next to her. “Fallen Eagle, I want you to meet Kimana, wife of your son Red Fox. She holds your grandson beneath her robes.”

  Fallen Eagle’s eyes widened. He shot a hasty glance at Daniel as if looking for affirmation to what Aimee had said. Daniel nodded slightly, studying the older man’s reaction.

  “I have sad news of your son, Fallen Eagle. Red Fox died several days ago, leading me to safety,” Kimana said softly. The shaman’s eyes widened, staring at the girl who was his daughter-in-law.

  “He might still be alive. Elk Runner and I found Red Fox yesterday,” Daniel quickly interrupted. He didn’t want to give false hope, but he had to let both the father and wife know that there was a chance that Red Fox wasn’t dead. “When I left the cabin to search for you, he was alive.” Fallen Eagle’s face betrayed none of the mixed emotions he must certainly be feeling at hearing conflicting stories about his son.

  Kimana gasped loudly. “My husband is alive?” Tears filled her eyes.

  “I think we should talk about all of this on the way back to the cabin, Daniel,” Aimee said. “That’s wonderful news, but Kimana is weak after everything she’s been through the last few days, and her baby needs to get out of this cold.” To emphasize her words, she turned and started in the direction of home.

  ****

  Aimee sat in the rocking chair, a wide smile on her face. She surveyed the many people in her warm home. Samuel sat on her lap, his head resting on her chest, his thumb in his mouth. Matthew and Zach played with marbles in the corner near her tree, which was still undecorated. Kimana sat with Red Fox by the hearth, their baby cradled in his arms. Aimee had examined Red Fox after they arrived at the cabin and found him fully awake. Several of his fingers and toes were frost bitten, but Aimee didn’t think it was severe enough that he would lose any digits.

  Elk Runner had begrudgingly agreed that this was one time that tradition could be broken, and Red Fox could spend time with his wife and son. It was customary for a Tukudeka father to have no contact with his wife and newborn child for the duration of a full month after the birth, but since Kimana hadn’t been in the birthing hut to begin with, even Fallen Eagle had agreed that the family should be together.

  The shaman sat with Daniel and Elk Runner at the table, a happy glow to his face. Although he hesitated at first, he had accepted Kimana as his daughter-in-law. Her actions and command of the Tukudeka language had obviously convinced him that she had adopted the Shoshone ways, and given up her life as a Blackfoot. The two Tukudeka who accompanied the shaman sat on the floor behind the door.

  A sudden loud bang on the door made everyone jump. Daniel and Elk Runner immediately reached for their bows, and Red Fox handed Kimana the baby. He stood protectively in front of his wife and son. Daniel opened the door, Elk Runner next to him, his bow drawn. Aimee’s heart raced when she caught a glimpse of the man standing just outside her cabin. She recognized two of
the warriors who flanked this man from the Blackfoot camp the previous night.

  “I am told my daughter is in the lodge of the white Tukudeka they call White Wolf,” the formidable Indian spoke in broken Shoshone. He wore a thick robe made from buffalo hide, and his hair was braided in three braids down his back. Several eagle feathers adorned his head. Kimana stood to her feet, and boldly walked around her husband. Red Fox held her back, but she looked at him and shook her head slightly.

  “I will speak with my father,” she said.

  “Kimana,” the Blackfoot chief said loudly, and took a step into the cabin. Daniel raised his hand to stop him.

  “You will enter my home only with peaceful intentions,” he said forcefully, glaring at the chief.

  Iniwa stared at Daniel for what seemed like forever, then nodded slowly. He gestured with his hand for his warriors to remain outside. Daniel stepped aside to allow him to enter.

  “Kimana, it is time you returned home to your people,” Iniwa spoke, still in Shoshone. Aimee suspected it was out of respect for the rest of the people present in the room. His eyes rested on the infant in his daughter’s arms.

  “I will not,” Kimana said. “I have chosen my life, father. I wish to live with my husband as a Tukudeka. I refuse to return to the people who would make war on innocent families in the dead of winter.”

  “Brave Thunder acted by himself,” Iniwa said. “He conducted his own search for you, while I conducted mine over the months. I only want my daughter back, not make war.”

  “Brave Thunder is dead,” Kimana said.

  Iniwa’s eyes widened. “By whose hand?” he demanded to know.