Embrace the Wild Land by Rosanne Bittner Page A

“I’m sorry, Abbie.”
    She blinked back tears. “I know, Zeke. I’m sorry, too.”
    He walked up to her and put his arms around her. How he hated hurting her, or being demanding in anyway. The subject of his father always seemed to stir his anger and make him speak harshly to her. “It’s been a trying day, and I’m in a lot of pain, Abbie,” he told her gently. “Let’s go pack and head out for Santa Fe. We have a few hours of riding time left.”
    She looked up at him and their eyes radiated understanding and forgiveness. He kissed her lightly, suddenly wanting more. But there was no time for more.
    They walked together toward the two Monroe
tipis
, but there was a new heaviness to her heart. The news about Danny had stirred an old fear in her heart: the fear that the distant and confusing Civil War would somehow separate them. They had been separated before by the hands of fate, and the fact remained that Zeke Monroe now had a favorite brother involved, and he still had a father in Tennessee, even though he made no claim to that part of his heritage. It was the first time in many years she had thought of Tennessee with any kind of worry or nostalgia. She had long ago decided Tennessee was a part of her own life to be forever buried, for she was not the same person as that young, dreaming Abigail Trent who had left that state with her father, brother and sister. Her family was dead, and that part of her life was dead. This was her life now, here in this land that she loved, with this man that she loved. Yet suddenly Tennessee had unexpectedly and without invitation loomed back into her life.
    Zeke tied the last rawhide strips that secured the travois to Abbie’s horse, wincing with the pain in his arm.
    “Zeke, we should stay here and rest a day first,” she told him. “You never should have done what you did. There’s blood on that gauze again. You started it bleeding.”
    He shook his head. “I did what had to be done. I couldn’t leave here without making sure that manregretted touching you.” He walked to his own mount and her eyes teared. But her worry was interrupted by gunshots and distant screams. They all looked in the direction of the fort. Navahos seemed to be scattering everywhere, mixed with some Cheyenne and others who had stayed for the final big race.
    “What the hell?” Zeke mumbled. He quickly mounted his Appaloosa. Abbie and the children sat frozen and confused on their horses, Abbie clinging to little Jason, and Lillian holding tightly to Wolf’s Blood, with whom she would ride on this trek of their journey. They were prepared to leave for Santa Fe. Black Elk and the rest of the Cheyenne would head back home to the Arkansas River.
    “Zeke, what’s happening?” Abbie asked, her heart pounding at the sound of more gunshots and more screaming. Some Indians, including women and children, were falling.
    “Be ready to get the hell out of here,” he replied sternly. “I knew it! I’ve smelled something foul all day. Randolph Cole wasn’t the only reason I didn’t want to stay for the last race.”
    Black Elk was running toward them now, dragging his young wife, Blue Bird Woman, and their son with him. “We go! We go!” he yelled to Zeke. “You leave now! Get children away!
Hopo! Hopo!
”
    “What’s wrong?” Zeke asked. “Why are they shooting the Indians?”
    “Race! Somebody cut the bridle of Navaho’s horse. He fall. Lose race! Navahos say soldiers cut the bridle. Soldiers say it is not so.” He hurriedly gathered his own horses, and Zeke quickly dismounted, helping his brother knock down his
tipi
, gathering only part of their belongings and throwing them onto Abbie’s travois.
    “There’s no time for more!” Zeke shouted to Black Elk. “Get your family out of here! We have enough tokeep you supplied back to the Arkansas.”
    Abbie watched in terror as more Indians fell in the distance. Would the soldiers ride out of the fort and chase more of them down? Lillian