Page 23 of Red Hawk's Woman

Whatever the case, Effie was aware that she was not accomplishing anything of use. Despite what these two gentlemen had confided to her, she was still saddled with a problem: She needed to hire a guide.

Apparently, this left her with no alternative but to solicit each man’s cooperation personally. All right, so be it.

Intending to do that at once, Effie swept off down the street.

Chapter

Six

Effie’s boots sounded like a staccato over the sidewalk’s puncheon logs. Things weighed heavily on her mind. Even the events of the previous evening—frightening though they might have been—were fading in significance against this newest problem: Where was she going to find a guide?

She supposed the first thing to do was to find the rest of her crew. Lesley and her husband, Henry, had left on errands with the student and his wife, Carl and Madeline Bell. The reasoning, which had been sound at the time, was that they could all accomplish more if they each one worked at different tasks.

That was before Effie had talked with the sheriff. Now, her viewpoint had changed, and she realized they needed to band together to resolve this problem. Of course, their finances would be stretched because they wouldn’t complete as many tasks if they were all concentrating on only one assignment. However, there was nothing for it, since there would be little point in any expedition at all were there no guide.

She had sent Henry and Lesley to the hardware store to purchase the shovels, axes and trowels required for the dig. Madeline and Carl had gone off to the livery, to buy or hire the wagons needed for the journey.

She would try the livery stable first, and since the hardware store was in the same direction, perhaps she could accomplish two things at once. Changing direction, she set off at a steady pace.

Involuntarily, a thought came to mind. Jinxed.

Drat! Who had started the rumor? And how did she go about changing it?

It simply wasn’t true—why, she and her students had hardly begun this expedition. How could it be jinxed so soon? Outside of this problem of finding a guide and the robbery attempt the night before, there had been no trouble, no bad luck. Nothing.

She climbed down a set of four steps in preparation to cross an alley between buildings.

That was when she saw him.

Standing across the main thoroughfare, he stood watching her. He was wrapped in a blanket, making it difficult for Effie to discern much about him, except that he was, indeed, American Indian. The blanket he wore was a colorful one. Made in geometric hues of reds and oranges, browns and pinks, it covered him completely, except for his moccasins and the bottom of his leggings.

His hair was parted down the middle and held at each side of his face with braids. Two eagle feathers, which must have been affixed at the back of his head, had been pushed forward and were twirling in the wind. However, the style of his hair was different than what she would have expected. Instead of his mane being simply parted in the middle in front, as she had always supposed was the more common Plains Indian fashion, a forelock of his hair had been brushed up high over the forehead, pompadour style.

Also, she could discern a white, looping necklace, which fell down over his chest. Or at least she thought it did. His blanket hid the bottom half of the jewelry.

Around his neck was a white and blue choker, and hanging from his ears were white shells on a string. They were similar to the ones suspended from a gold chain around her neck.

The man wore no war paint that she could discern. And he stared at her. Indeed, he seemed to frown at her.

She caught her breath. Unquestionably, he was magnificent.

She should glance away. But she didn’t.

In truth, she couldn’t quite explain what drew her toward the man, or the fact that she discovered she was crossing the road without having willed herself to do so. It was as though her feet knew the way toward him, and she was simply traveling along for the ride.

As she drew level with him, she smiled. After all, it seemed the polite thing to do.

He did not return the gesture. Instead his eyes flashed at her dangerously.

She ignored his look, and, coming to stand in front of him, she was not hesitant to speak to him, saying, “I am seeking a guide to take me into the Gates of the Rocky Mountains country,” before she could stop herself. Perhaps that was what had drawn her to him. Need.

He didn’t answer, and she fretted. Had she forgotten her manners? Or maybe he didn’t speak her language. She bit down on her tongue, then began again, “I’m sorry, sir, but do you speak English?”

He didn’t say a word, though he did narrow his eyes at her.

Perhaps his silence should have made her uncomfortable, but it didn’t. Curiously, she discovered she was at ease with him, and she continued to speak to him. “Excuse me, let me begin at the beginning. I don’t mean to accost you like this, but I am desperate to find a guide for my archaeological expedition.”

She shot a smile at him again, but he might as well have been a boulder for all the good it did her. “Let me introduce myself,” she said. “My name is Effie Wendelyn Rutledge, and I…”