Page 87 of The Spirit of the Wolf

Odd, how she missed the out-of-doors. Though the bourgeois’s house was nice, she felt strangely stifled. But here, outside, she seemed to feel…at home.

The man at her side broke the silence. “It is a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Listen.” She frowned and lowered her voice. “Something is wrong, Mr. Adams. Do you hear it?”

“What, miss?”

“The quiet.”

“I don’t understand, miss. Hear the quiet?”

“Yes,” she said, continuing. “These past few nights have been filled with noise—the Indian drumming and singing from the camps. It’s gone on all night. But not tonight. Listen. There’s not a wolf howling, nor even a nighthawk squawking. It’s quiet. Too quiet.” She turned to the man. “Do you know the cause?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t.”

“But you should, Mr. Adams,” she observed. “One of the details I learned from the Indians is that the night should be filled with sound. If it isn’t, there is a reason, and it should be discovered, lest there is danger about.” She glanced around the deserted courtyard. “Sir, could I beg a favor of you?”

“Yes, miss. Anything.”

“Could you please return inside and inform the bourgeois about my fear that something is wrong?”

“But—”

“Please?”

“Of course, miss. I will do so at once.”

“Thank you. It will set my mind at ease.”

After exchanging a polite smile, the man turned to do her bidding.

Again, Marietta inhaled deeply. And though the night air felt good on her lungs, she couldn’t help worrying. Was there danger, and if there were, was Grey Coyote safe?

“The Indians have broken camp,” said a low voice behind her, as Grey Coyote stepped out of the shadows. “This is why it is so silent, for the animals have run away at their approach.”

The wind rushed into her face, yet she turned quickly. “Where have you been?”

“Looking for the man we seek.”

“And have you found his trail?”

“I have.”

“Good. Good. When do we leave?”

Grey Coyote paused. “Then you are ready to go?”

“Of course I’m ready to go. Why wouldn’t I be ready to go? The sooner we get this duty over with, the sooner I can depart for England.”

He shrugged. “I had feared that perhaps the lure of your own civilization might be too much, and you would not wish to travel again. At least not as a scout.”

Marietta jerked her head sideways. “Then you feared incorrectly. I said I would help. I will help.”

He grinned at her, and reaching forward, ran the back of his fingers over her cheek. Fleetingly, she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. It felt so good.

She said, “I have missed you.”

He nodded. “I, too, have missed you.”