White Eagle's Touch by Karen Kay Page B

“I, too, have felt this. Still…did you know that the fort’s clerks, under the guise of nightfall, have been giving the Indians free liquor tonight? Illegal liquor? And we all have heard what a drunken Indian can do to a trader—even to themselves.”
    Katrina nodded. “Then it indeed is not safe. You may go back, Rebecca, I wouldn’t want you to put your life in danger. But I must stay. I must talk with White Eagle tonight.”
    “Is that his name?”
    Katrina nodded. “You go on back, now. I will meet you there later.”
    The young maid’s grip upon her mistress’s arm tightened. “And leave you here, alone? No, I will not.”
    The women glanced at one another.
    “Very well, then,” Katrina said, “stay with me, but I wish to remain here a little longer, at least until I have a chance to speak to White Eagle. We will watch and listen. I don’t believe anyone has noticed us.”
    Rebecca huddled in toward her, whispering, “All right, mistress.”
    “You are wrong,” came a definite masculine reply from behind them.
    Huddling together, the two of them turned in unison.
    It was the Indian. How had White Eagle moved so swiftly so as to come up behind them? And especially, how could he have done it so silently?
    He said, “You have been very much noticed, but you are in no danger. We are flattered that you are interested in our dance. Come closer, won’t you? I have something for you.”
    “N-no,” Katrina said, her hand clutching Rebecca’s. “We are happy to just stand here on the outskirts of the…ah…dancers.”
    “I promise that no harm will come to you.”
    “Do you?” Hadn’t she heard somewhere that an Indian’s word was as honorable as the most civilized gent’s? “What do you have for me?”
    “You will see, and, yes, I promise,” he said, as he held out an object toward her—a pink-and-white frilly contraption…
    “My umbrella! Wherever did you find it?”
    “It was left behind when you visited me in my lodge.”
    “Oh, I must extend my apology for the inconvenience. Thank you for bringing this to me.”
    He nodded.
    He handed the object to her and looked away, silence reigning between them, until at last, she asked, “Do you celebrate something tonight?”
    “Aa, yes.”
    “Oh? What are you celebrating?”
    “My people have had a good trading season this year, and they will go home much better off than when they came here. It is a good thing.”
    “Yes.”
    He stared at her then, just as he had when she’d first noticed him across the line of dancers, and she returned the attention.
    Something elusive passed between them, within that steady look. She couldn’t have said what it was, only that it made her feel…calm. Calm and warm.
    She said, “I have come here to talk to you.”
    He nodded, and held out his hand. “Come,” he said.
    But Katrina held back. She huddled in closer to Rebecca.
    He did not withdraw his hand. Instead, he said again, “Come.”
    Both girls stared at that hand, Rebecca looking over toward Katrina, then back at the hand.
    Katrina, however, lifted her gaze to the Indian. Their glances met, held; his inviting, hers…
    She made a movement forward, toward him, but Rebecca clung to her, holding her back. Rebecca whispered, “I don’t think you should do it. I feel we should leave here at once. Whatever you have to say to this man can be said in the morning.”
    Katrina looked at her maid, then back at the Indian. She said, “I have come here to speak with you.”
    White Eagle nodded. Without letting his hand drop, he said again, “I know. Come with me.”
    “I…”
    “Mistress…?”
    Katrina didn’t even glance at her maid. She stared only at White Eagle’s hand, as he stretched it out toward her. She wanted so much to take it. What could be wrong with that?
    She made to move forward.
    “Mistress…?”
    Again Katrina paid her maid no heed. Rebecca wasn’t gazing at White Eagle; Rebecca couldn’t know the pull…the magnetism of him,