Emma said quietly. At Ridge's questioning glance, she waved her hand outward. "This. The land. Quiet. Peace." A magpie flew past and the sunlight turned drab feathers to shiny blue. "Freedom."
Ridge remained mute, but Emma knew he'd heard her.
"Do you miss it?" she asked curiously.
"Sleeping on the ground, eating cold biscuits and tough jerky, not being able to take a long, hot bath?" He flashed her a wry smile. "Yeah, sometimes I miss it."
Emma laughed softly. "Yes, bathing in a mountain-fed stream isn't one of my favorite things either." She sobered and her gaze wandered across the wilderness. "But it wasn't a bad life. The People, they care for one another, watch out for each other's children." Her breath hitched in her throat. "They share their bounty with the rest of the tribe. When one suffers, everyone does. Not exactly how the whites see things, is it?"
"Two different kinds of people, Emma," Ridge began. "For one, the world is there for the taking and folks want the biggest piece they can get their hands on. It's like a grownup marbles game—whoever has the most wins. For the People, they look at things different. Respect for the land and honor of one another and those who came before them are their beliefs. Without them, they don't have anything."
Although surprised by his relatively long speech, she nodded, her gaze turning inward, to the reservation camp she'd visited before starting her search. "But that's changing."
"It's the way of life, Emma. Things're always going to change."
"But that doesn't make it right."
"I never said it did," he said patiently. "But you and me can't stop it, so it doesn't do any good to get all riled up about it."
Emma's thoughts turned to her son, a child of both worlds, but embraced by the Lakota. If she took him back to her parents' home, what kind of life would he have? But if she and Chayton stayed with the Indians, how much longer would her adopted people remain free? And she didn't want to raise her child on a reservation, unable to walk freely on the same plains as his father's ancestors.
"Maybe if enough people got riled up about it, we could change things," Emma said.
"Maybe." Ridge didn't sound hopeful.
Emma leveled her gaze at him. "Would you?"
Ridge rubbed a wind-weathered cheek with a gloved hand. "I'm a simple man, Emma. All I want is a piece of land I can call my own, some cattle to run on it, and a good woman to share my life and raise my children."
"What if someone stole your land, scattered your cattle, and hurt or killed your wife and children?"
He met her gaze. "Your pa already stole my land."
Emma flinched. From what she'd heard, her father hadn't exactly stolen the land, but what he paid for it was equivalent to cheap beads and cheaper blankets. She didn't know how to respond to Ridge's bitter statement so she chose silence.
Her thoughts returned to the People and where they might be headed. She knew there were a number of Sioux further southeast, in the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory. However, many of the Tetons preferred the Powder River basin. Was that where her adopted people were going? Or was it Canada where the U.S. government couldn't touch them?
"What about Canada?" she asked.
"I already thought of that, but figured they'd more'n likely stay on land they know. The next camp I'm checking is about fifteen miles from here," he said, keeping his gaze aimed forward. "I should know if they're there once we get within a few miles of it."
It would be a long fifteen miles.
Chapter 7
By nightfall, Ridge was certain the Indians were nowhere near the second possible camp. His next guess was some fifty miles away and it would take the better part of a day to get there, provided the weather cooperated. As he unsaddled his horse, Ridge raised his head and sniffed the cool air. There was a change coming. He suspected winter was going to make another appearance.
He and Emma prepared their camp, moving around one another in companionable
Ridge remained mute, but Emma knew he'd heard her.
"Do you miss it?" she asked curiously.
"Sleeping on the ground, eating cold biscuits and tough jerky, not being able to take a long, hot bath?" He flashed her a wry smile. "Yeah, sometimes I miss it."
Emma laughed softly. "Yes, bathing in a mountain-fed stream isn't one of my favorite things either." She sobered and her gaze wandered across the wilderness. "But it wasn't a bad life. The People, they care for one another, watch out for each other's children." Her breath hitched in her throat. "They share their bounty with the rest of the tribe. When one suffers, everyone does. Not exactly how the whites see things, is it?"
"Two different kinds of people, Emma," Ridge began. "For one, the world is there for the taking and folks want the biggest piece they can get their hands on. It's like a grownup marbles game—whoever has the most wins. For the People, they look at things different. Respect for the land and honor of one another and those who came before them are their beliefs. Without them, they don't have anything."
Although surprised by his relatively long speech, she nodded, her gaze turning inward, to the reservation camp she'd visited before starting her search. "But that's changing."
"It's the way of life, Emma. Things're always going to change."
"But that doesn't make it right."
"I never said it did," he said patiently. "But you and me can't stop it, so it doesn't do any good to get all riled up about it."
Emma's thoughts turned to her son, a child of both worlds, but embraced by the Lakota. If she took him back to her parents' home, what kind of life would he have? But if she and Chayton stayed with the Indians, how much longer would her adopted people remain free? And she didn't want to raise her child on a reservation, unable to walk freely on the same plains as his father's ancestors.
"Maybe if enough people got riled up about it, we could change things," Emma said.
"Maybe." Ridge didn't sound hopeful.
Emma leveled her gaze at him. "Would you?"
Ridge rubbed a wind-weathered cheek with a gloved hand. "I'm a simple man, Emma. All I want is a piece of land I can call my own, some cattle to run on it, and a good woman to share my life and raise my children."
"What if someone stole your land, scattered your cattle, and hurt or killed your wife and children?"
He met her gaze. "Your pa already stole my land."
Emma flinched. From what she'd heard, her father hadn't exactly stolen the land, but what he paid for it was equivalent to cheap beads and cheaper blankets. She didn't know how to respond to Ridge's bitter statement so she chose silence.
Her thoughts returned to the People and where they might be headed. She knew there were a number of Sioux further southeast, in the Black Hills of the Dakota Territory. However, many of the Tetons preferred the Powder River basin. Was that where her adopted people were going? Or was it Canada where the U.S. government couldn't touch them?
"What about Canada?" she asked.
"I already thought of that, but figured they'd more'n likely stay on land they know. The next camp I'm checking is about fifteen miles from here," he said, keeping his gaze aimed forward. "I should know if they're there once we get within a few miles of it."
It would be a long fifteen miles.
Chapter 7
By nightfall, Ridge was certain the Indians were nowhere near the second possible camp. His next guess was some fifty miles away and it would take the better part of a day to get there, provided the weather cooperated. As he unsaddled his horse, Ridge raised his head and sniffed the cool air. There was a change coming. He suspected winter was going to make another appearance.
He and Emma prepared their camp, moving around one another in companionable
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