my son has a new name. He is Rides the
Buffalo.”
“It is a good story,” Mitch remarked, smiling. “And a good
name.”
And a good life, he mused as he turned and gazed at the
lodges spread across the floor of the valley. Yet even as the thought crossed
his mind, Alisha’s image rose before him, her eyes sparkling, her lips curved
in a smile of welcome.
Alisha…
Swearing softly, he turned away from the river, determined
to put her out of his mind, out of his heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Alisha placed her teacup on the table beside the sofa,
counted to ten, and looked over at Roger, who was standing near the hearth, his
arms folded across his chest, a scowl on his face.
“I’m going, Roger, and nothing you can say will make me
change my mind.”
“You’re upset. You’re not thinking clearly. Dammit, Alisha,
you can’t go traipsing off into the desert looking for a bunch of savages.”
Alisha stared at Roger, somewhat taken aback by his use of
profanity. In all the years she had known him, she had never heard him swear,
but she refused to be swayed. “I can, and I will. Can’t you see? I have to go.”
Exasperated, Roger began to pace the floor.
Alisha took a deep breath. He had taken the news that she
had an illegitimate son surprisingly well, but when she told him she was going
to try to find the boy, he had looked at her as if she had lost her mind. They
had been arguing for the last forty minutes to no avail. Roger had declared
that she was being foolish and stubborn. Maybe he was right, but, right or
wrong, she was going after her son. She had already missed the first four years
of his life. She wasn’t willing to miss one day more than she had to.
Roger took a deep breath. “Alisha, you have no one to look
after you now. As your future husband, I insist that you stay home, where you
belong. There’s a trader in town. I saw him over at the restaurant this
morning. If you’re determined to find your son, I’ll hire him to look for the
boy.”
“Hiring a guide is a good idea,” Alisha said. She had
thought of it herself, of course. She wasn’t foolish enough to consider
crossing the desert alone. Still, she was willing to let Roger think it was his
idea. “But I’m going with him.”
“Alisha, I can understand how you feel. Truly, I do, but I
must forbid it.”
“Forbid it?” She stared at him. “Forbid it?” She took a deep
calming breath. “You’re not my husband yet, Roger. And I am going, as soon as
possible.”
“Is that your final word on the matter?” Roger asked
quietly. “You won’t change your mind?”
“I can’t.”
“Very well. If you won’t reconsider, I think I shall have to
call off our engagement.”
“Call it off?”
Roger nodded. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could tolerate
a wife who will not heed my counsel.”
She felt a twinge of regret, and a wave of relief. “I’m
sorry, Roger.”
“So am I. Goodbye, Alisha,” he said stiffly, and taking up
his hat, he left the house.
As soon as Roger left, Alisha put on her gloves and bonnet
and hurried into town. It took her over an hour to find the man she was looking
for, and when she did, she wondered if she was making a huge mistake.
Red Clements was a short, squat man with long, limp brown
hair, squinty brown eyes, and a nose that had been broken more than once.
Alisha judged him to be in his late thirties, but his face was so lined and
brown from the sun, it was hard to tell. He wore a greasy buckskin shirt and
trousers and carried an enormous knife on one hip and a huge pistol on the
other.
“You loco, girl?” Clements exclaimed when she told him that
she was looking for a guide to take her to Apache Pass.
She had assured him she was not. Like Roger, Red Clements
tried to talk her out of making the journey. He enumerated his reasons,
counting them off on his fingers. The Comanche and the Apache were on the
warpath, there were wild animals, it wasn’t seemly for a single young
Buffalo.”
“It is a good story,” Mitch remarked, smiling. “And a good
name.”
And a good life, he mused as he turned and gazed at the
lodges spread across the floor of the valley. Yet even as the thought crossed
his mind, Alisha’s image rose before him, her eyes sparkling, her lips curved
in a smile of welcome.
Alisha…
Swearing softly, he turned away from the river, determined
to put her out of his mind, out of his heart.
Chapter Thirteen
Alisha placed her teacup on the table beside the sofa,
counted to ten, and looked over at Roger, who was standing near the hearth, his
arms folded across his chest, a scowl on his face.
“I’m going, Roger, and nothing you can say will make me
change my mind.”
“You’re upset. You’re not thinking clearly. Dammit, Alisha,
you can’t go traipsing off into the desert looking for a bunch of savages.”
Alisha stared at Roger, somewhat taken aback by his use of
profanity. In all the years she had known him, she had never heard him swear,
but she refused to be swayed. “I can, and I will. Can’t you see? I have to go.”
Exasperated, Roger began to pace the floor.
Alisha took a deep breath. He had taken the news that she
had an illegitimate son surprisingly well, but when she told him she was going
to try to find the boy, he had looked at her as if she had lost her mind. They
had been arguing for the last forty minutes to no avail. Roger had declared
that she was being foolish and stubborn. Maybe he was right, but, right or
wrong, she was going after her son. She had already missed the first four years
of his life. She wasn’t willing to miss one day more than she had to.
Roger took a deep breath. “Alisha, you have no one to look
after you now. As your future husband, I insist that you stay home, where you
belong. There’s a trader in town. I saw him over at the restaurant this
morning. If you’re determined to find your son, I’ll hire him to look for the
boy.”
“Hiring a guide is a good idea,” Alisha said. She had
thought of it herself, of course. She wasn’t foolish enough to consider
crossing the desert alone. Still, she was willing to let Roger think it was his
idea. “But I’m going with him.”
“Alisha, I can understand how you feel. Truly, I do, but I
must forbid it.”
“Forbid it?” She stared at him. “Forbid it?” She took a deep
calming breath. “You’re not my husband yet, Roger. And I am going, as soon as
possible.”
“Is that your final word on the matter?” Roger asked
quietly. “You won’t change your mind?”
“I can’t.”
“Very well. If you won’t reconsider, I think I shall have to
call off our engagement.”
“Call it off?”
Roger nodded. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could tolerate
a wife who will not heed my counsel.”
She felt a twinge of regret, and a wave of relief. “I’m
sorry, Roger.”
“So am I. Goodbye, Alisha,” he said stiffly, and taking up
his hat, he left the house.
As soon as Roger left, Alisha put on her gloves and bonnet
and hurried into town. It took her over an hour to find the man she was looking
for, and when she did, she wondered if she was making a huge mistake.
Red Clements was a short, squat man with long, limp brown
hair, squinty brown eyes, and a nose that had been broken more than once.
Alisha judged him to be in his late thirties, but his face was so lined and
brown from the sun, it was hard to tell. He wore a greasy buckskin shirt and
trousers and carried an enormous knife on one hip and a huge pistol on the
other.
“You loco, girl?” Clements exclaimed when she told him that
she was looking for a guide to take her to Apache Pass.
She had assured him she was not. Like Roger, Red Clements
tried to talk her out of making the journey. He enumerated his reasons,
counting them off on his fingers. The Comanche and the Apache were on the
warpath, there were wild animals, it wasn’t seemly for a single young
Similar Books
