Yellowstone Legends Read online

  Wo'itsa stared at her. He was mesmerized, while at the same time, a feeling of dread coursed through him. Everything Mukua had said seemed to be coming true. If she was a Tukudeka woman from the future, she’d lost all connection to her family and the spirits.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. She didn’t relax her stance. “And where am I?”

  Wo'itsa’s forehead scrunched. She appeared surprised about her location. He pointed at the pouch in her shirt. Didn’t she know that the snakehead had brought her here?

  “You are in the sacred mountains of the Tukudeka,” he replied, speaking the language of his people.

  She blinked and shook her head, then glanced around the clearing. Her eyes darted back to him, looking wary. She was a beautiful woman, despite her unusual clothing. He shook off the strange thoughts and sensations. Had Mukua sent her? It seemed highly unlikely. What reason would the elder have to send a woman from the future here?

  Wo'itsa switched to the language his friends spoke, since it appeared by the look of confusion on her face that she hadn’t understood. “You hold the vessel that has brought you to my time.”

  The woman’s bewildered stare went from him to her pocket, then immediately shot back to him. She looked even more disbelieving. Her eyes roamed over him with quick, yet thorough, assessment. She laughed.

  “If I’m in some other time, how come you speak English?”

  Wo'itsa relaxed his stance. Perhaps if he showed that he wasn’t a threat, she wouldn’t feel the need to fight. Somehow, this woman had traveled through time by mistake, since she obviously didn’t understand what had happened to her. It would be best to take her to Mukua, who could help her get back to where she’d come from.

  Mukua had said in order to keep his brothers from changing things in the future, he needed to find the other vessels. Wo'itsa smiled. It would appear one of them had practically landed in his lap.

  “I speak your words because others who have traveled through time taught me.”

  She continued looking at him with suspicion. The play of confusion and disbelief in her eyes indicated she was trying to make sense of her situation.

  “I will take you to an elder of the Sky People who can offer some answers and perhaps help you return to your time, but you must surrender the vessel.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Sky People. Of course. I already told you. You’re not getting that snakehead from me until I figure out exactly what’s going on. You’re the third person now who’s wanted this thing, so it must be quite important.” She hesitated, dropping eye contact for a moment to look at her surroundings, then back to him.

  Movement coming from the direction of his camp caught Wo'itsa’s eye. Mukua was walking toward them at a brisk pace. He nudged his chin toward the elder.

  “You will have your answers in a moment.”

  The woman turned slightly to look behind her, then she started laughing again. She headed for Mukua “How did I guess you had something to do with this? You’ll be happy to know that your little thug got away from me before I had a chance to apprehend him.”

  Mukua stopped, his eyes darting from the woman to Wo'itsa. He glared at her. “He brought me the box, but the vessel was no longer there.”

  “I figured it was the contents, and not the box itself, that you’re after.”

  Mukua held out his hand. “It is best you do not interfere with things of which you know nothing.”

  “So why don’t you enlighten me,” she challenged, raising her chin.

  Wo'itsa’s eyes volleyed between the two. His lips quivered in a suppressed smile. This woman was fearless.

  “Give the vessel to me.”

  She shook her head. “Over my dead body.” Her eyes darted to Wo'itsa, who stood just slightly off to the side and behind her.

  The wrinkles on the elder’s face deepened as his lips parted in a smile. “If you won’t relinquish it to me, Wo'itsa will take it from you.”

  “Wo'itsa?” The woman’s eyes widened. She spoke his name with apprehension and uncertainty. Her features shifted from mild caution to looking like a cornered prey animal.

  Wo'itsa glanced from her to meet Mukua’s stare. The elder nudged ever-so-slightly with his chin in her direction, a clear signal that he was to subdue her. Wo'itsa lunged forward before the woman could bolt – which was exactly what she would do – and wrapped his arms around her from behind to immobilize her.

  Swift as a deer, she bent her knees, stepped to the side, brought her knee up behind his leg and delivered a prompt kick that sent him off-balance again. She wasted no time and twisted in his loosened grip, jabbing him in the face with the open palm of her hand. Wo'itsa stumbled backward. He blinked and shook his head, but was unable to do much else. Before he could react, she pulled his knife from the sheath hanging from his belt, and jumped back to put some distance between them.

  With eyes blazing like a cornered mountain lion, she held the knife in front of her, ready to deliver a deadly blow to him. His pride already wounded, Wo'itsa cursed. He’d left his horn bow lying in the grass a short distance away. If she wanted a fight, he would give her one.

  Wotisa pulled his ax from his belt and faced her. “I have underestimated you for the last time,” he growled. “I have never fought a woman before, but if you want to fight like a warrior, then so be it.”

  The woman’s stance faltered as her eyes widened, and she stared at him with disbelief. A flicker of fear, then renewed determination, passed over her face. She squared her shoulders and gripped Wo’itsa’s knife in her hand, clearly ready to do battle.

  Chapter 8

  Kendra gripped the knife in her hand. Her heart continued to beat wildly like a drum against her ribs. Her mouth was dry as cotton, making swallowing difficult. She faced the . . . native . . . the Indian . . . the guy . . . standing a few feet in front of her.

  His eyes sparked with anger, which was barely overshadowed by the look of disbelief and uncertainty on his face. Kendra almost smiled. Almost, if she wasn’t so damn shocked at this unexplainable situation.

  Wo'itsa. Kendra swallowed. The name sent a shudder through her. Wolf, or rather, a wolf with the power of the spirits, if her translation of the old language was accurate.

  “Find the bear but beware of the wolf.”

  Kunu’s warning echoed loud and clear in her mind. Had her grandfather been referring to a person all this time, and not an actual wolf? While she gripped the knife in one hand, she jammed her other hand in her jacket pocket to make sure that snakehead wasn’t going anywhere. Someone seemed to be trying awfully hard to get their hands on this thing.

  Kunu’s talk of Sky People, time travel, and ancient legends was one jumbled mess in her mind. Her dreams had taken quite a different turn, unless this was either some elaborate hoax . . . Or, everything Kunu has ever told you is coming true.

  How did she end up in this clearing in the middle of the wilderness? She’d almost apprehended the intruder in her apartment who’d wanted to steal Matt Donovan’s wooden box, and then . . . what had happened then?

  Had she been transported to the past? What other explanation was there? A multitude of questions flooded her mind, and she mentally shook her head. Now was not the time to think about any of them. She had bigger problems at the moment.

  The guy seemed equally surprised by her. He had clearly not been expecting her to fight back, but something about his determined stance made it apparent she wasn’t going to surprise him again.

  She’d faced her share of shady characters while living on the streets of L.A., and also in the line of duty, and had never backed down from a confrontation. There was something primal and feral about this guy that was unlike anyone she’d ever faced. Matt Donovan’s features flashed in her mind. He’d had that same sharp look in his eyes, something indefinable that distinguished a domesticated animal from a wild one.

  Kendra’s fingers tightened around the handle of the knife. Why hadn’t she strapped on her gun today? She was
never without her firearm, yet today – was it even today anymore? – of all days, she’d decided to leave it in her locked bedroom dresser because she hadn’t thought she’d need it to visit Matt Donovan’s daughter.

  Her heart hammered in her chest while she studied her opponent. She had to be ready for the slightest move he made. This was the real deal, not some training session in the gym at the police station. Everything around her was unnaturally quiet, or rather, devoid of familiar noise. There were sounds – the breeze rushing through the tops of the trees, countless birds chirping, and the nearby gurgling of a flowing creek or river – but they weren’t the familiar sounds of the city.

  Kendra blinked. From the moment she’d opened her eyes, staring up into the face of the guy who looked like he could easily kill her, her head had been spinning. She swayed slightly as the world tilted in front of her, as if she was adrift on the ocean, or much like a cold-medicine hangover. She adjusted her stance to keep from ending up on the ground. If she showed any hint of weakness, she was finished.

  Her slight move made her opponent tense, and he raised the primitive ax he gripped in his hand. Kendra stiffened. All her self-defense training might be useless in this situation. She might stand a chance in a wrestling match, but not fighting with a knife and an ax. The element of surprise was gone, and he was on high alert. Every inch of him was poised for business. He clearly knew what he was doing with that weapon in his hand, yet he seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move.

  “Woman, I have no wish to harm you, but you give me no choice if you do not lay down your weapon.”

  Wo'itsa’s rich voice startled her. Her mind was busy trying to sort out how she’d ended up in this predicament. If she was a few hundred years in the past, how was it that he spoke English? He had spoken in the old language of the Shoshone, the Sheepeaters, at first, but he’d switched. Maybe he’d thought she hadn’t understood when he’d told her she was in the mountains of the Tukudeka.

  The mountains of the Tukudeka. Yellowstone?

  For a split second, Kendra’s eyes left the guy in front of her and glanced around. This very well could be Yellowstone. She’d spent enough time there growing up when Kunu had dragged her into the backcountry to teach her about the old ways.

  “Why do we have to come to the wilderness all the time, Kunu? Can’t you just tell me the stories in your living room?”

  “We are closer to the spirits here, Natu. This is where you will reconnect with your ancestors.”

  If Kunu had been frustrated or angry at her lack of interest in the old ways, or whenever she’d adamantly protested that she didn’t want to learn about her ancestors, he’d never let on. He’d patiently gone about his teachings, and always with a smile on his face. As she’d gotten older, he’d taken her into the wilderness more frequently and for longer periods, and no amount of protesting on her part had deterred him. Not until she’d finally had enough and run away.

  Unless this was another vivid dream, Kunu had been correct all along. Right now, that seemed the most plausible explanation, no matter how absurd it sounded. If she was indeed in some other decade or century in the past, now was the time to see how much she remembered of what he’d tried to teach her.

  Kendra raised her chin and stared at Wo'itsa. “What makes you so sure you’re going to harm me? I can probably do more damage to you.”

  His face remained passive at her bold challenge, but there was a subtle gleam in his eyes. This stand-off couldn’t go on forever.

  “Give me the vessel, and I will send you back where you came from,” the old man interjected. Kendra glanced his way for a split second. She’d almost forgotten about him. He took several steps toward her, holding out his hand. He didn’t carry a weapon, at least not anything that was immediately visible. Kendra shook her head in reply. She refocused her attention on Wo'itsa, who was more of a threat than the old man.

  “You do not want to be here,” the old man coaxed. “Give me the vessel, and I will return you to your normal life. Isn’t that what you want? There is no need for you to concern yourself with matters that don’t interest you.”

  Kendra darted another quick look at the old man. He seemed almost desperate and took another step toward her. The smile on his face appeared forced, making the deep wrinkles in his skin more pronounced.

  “Your grandfather would not want you to be burdened with this anymore.”

  Kendra’s head snapped fully to the old man. Her eyes narrowed. Without thinking, she acted, and sprang at him. In one swift move, she grabbed his bony wrist and brought it behind his back, while her other arm snaked around his neck. The knife she held in her hand was pressed firmly against his jugular.

  “You had something to do with my grandfather’s death, didn’t you?” she hissed into his ear. “If I don’t get some answers now, my knife is going to slip.”

  Rather than struggle, the old man relaxed. His laugh was nothing more than a raspy croak.

  “He wasn’t truly your grandfather.” His crackly whisper was barely understandable. “You and I both know it. If you release me, I will give you all the answers you seek, Natukendra’eh weda.”

  Kendra sucked in a quick breath. Adrenaline raced through her limbs at the sound of her given name. Wo'itsa stared from her to the elder, the struggle clear in his eyes about what to do to help the old man.

  “Release Mukua. Harming an elder of the Sky People will get you killed, woman.” Wo'itsa snarled at her, his eyes blazing. He was definitely concerned for the safety of this old man.

  An elder of the Sky People?

  Somehow, whenever Kunu had spoken of the Sky People, she’d pictured someone looking more regal and strong, not a frail old man who might fall over with a slight nudge of her finger.

  “Then I suggest you toss your weapon aside and not threaten me again.”

  Time. She needed time to think. She was in no position – or location – to apprehend Mukua and take him into custody. What she was doing right now was threatening and kidnapping an old man, but she needed time to figure out where she was and what was going on.

  If Wo'itsa was the wolf her grandfather had warned her about, then who was the bear? Clearly not this old man. Matt Donovan was the only person who came to mind. He’d given her the snake. Mukua really wanted the snakehead, which meant she definitely couldn’t give it to him.

  “Do it,” she shouted at Wo'itsa. “Toss your weapon away, or my knife is going to slip across his throat, and it’ll be on you that your elder dies.”

  Woit’sa’s jaw clenched visibly. He hesitated, then tossed his ax into the tall grasses some distance away.

  “Now back up,” she ordered. “Get on the ground, face down, and put your hands behind your head where I can see them.”

  Any other time, she would have laughed at the dumbstruck look on Wo'itsa’s face. His eyes narrowed, and his forehead scrunched, leaving deep furrows above his nose. He leaned forward slightly like someone who was hard of hearing. He probably didn’t even understand her instructions.

  Kendra shook her head. She held back a curse and gritted her teeth, then tightened her hold on the old man. She backed up several steps, dragging him along.

  “Stay where you are,” she warned, staring at Wo'itsa, who looked ready to dive for his ax. “And get down on the ground, like I told you. Don’t move until I’m gone with the old man. You really don’t want to find out if I’m bluffing or not.”

  She continued to back up, dragging Mukua with her. The old man didn’t resist. In fact, he laughed again.

  “You are not safe here. You do not even know where you are, Natukendra’eh. You will not live to see another sunrise unless you allow me to help you. There is too much danger here for a woman like you, who has been raised in the future.” His words were spoken just loud enough for her to hear. In the next instant, he called to Wo'itsa. “Do as the woman says. Do not worry about me. She will not harm me.”

  “That’s why you’re coming with me,” she hisse
d. “And for insurance that your bodyguard won’t try to attack me.”

  “I will find you,” Wo'itsa called out. Directing his eyes on her, he added with a snarl that was reminiscent of his name, “And I will find you, too, if you harm this elder.”

  Kendra’s eyes locked on Wo'itsa. He stood with his hands in tight fists at his sides. Even from a distance, it was evident that every muscle in his body was taut and he looked ready to spring into action and give chase. The only thing keeping him rooted to the spot was the old man’s orders.

  She spun them both around, then pushed Mukua in front of her. “Let’s go.”

  The old man moved surprisingly fast as Kendra led him from the clearing into the forest. She kept one hand wrapped firmly around his arm and the other gripped her knife.

  “Do you know where you are taking me?” he asked after she’d pushed him around deadfall and through the dense woods.

  “For now, we’re getting as far away from your friend as possible.” Kendra glanced around. The forest seemed to close in on them, and she lost all sense of direction. There seemed to be an opening in the trees up ahead, and her eyes locked on that area.

  Soon the trees opened up to allow the sun’s rays to reach the forest floor, and a small stream trickled through the underbrush, surrounded by tall grass. The trees grew further apart in this area, and Kendra slowed her steps. All moisture was gone from her mouth, and she eyed the clear water in the stream. Was it worth the risk of catching some bug to ease her thirst?

  “Your grandfather didn’t teach you well, did he, Natukendra’eh?”

  Kendra’s steps faltered at the old man’s unexpected words. Her fingers tightened around his bony arm. She faced him fully.

  “How do you know that name?”

  “I am an elder of the Sky People.” Mukua’s features didn’t change as he met her stare.