Page 56 of Red Hawk's Woman

Or was there more to it than what she was telling herself? Was her excitement due to the opportunity she would have to put more questions to him? If he really were from the Lost Clan, then the chance to learn more about her own craft was endless.

Think for a moment of the opportunity if it were true, if we could meet these people in the present. Think of the questions we might ask those people, the knowledge we might acquire…

So had her father spoken, long ago.

She exhaled deeply. Certainly, she was not immune to the possibilities such a condition might present. No long sessions studying artifacts, no guesses, no conjectures to make about the way man lived long ago. She could find out about the past firsthand. As an added bonus, her reputation would be secure.

As one thought after another chased through her mind, she sat up onto her knees and reached for her comb. After grabbing hold of it, she leaned back and began the process of removing the pins from her hair, as well as the lone eagle feather that adorned it. The feather she placed in a box, along with the gun she always carried. Carefully, she set the box aside.

She shook her head, allowing the natural curls of her mane to cascade down her back, and ran the comb through her tangled locks.

“You wear too many clothes.”

She gasped.

“Do not cry out. It is I, Red Hawk.”

“I know, I recognized your voice. It’s only that you startled me.”

“You did not see me here?”

“No, I did not.”

He sighed.

“Don’t say it,” she said. “Don’t tell me again about my being unobservant and about how you will teach me to look and to really see.”

“I will do as you say,” he conceded.

He sat behind her, and she scooted around to face him, nudging him with her hand in the process. He made no comment, though for her part, a feeling of awareness darted from her fingertips, up her arm, all the way to her midsection.

“Are we to meet here, inside my tent, then?” At her question, the excitement from his touch ebbed a little, while a feeling not unlike disappointment came over her, causing her to realize she had been very much looking forward to a stroll beneath a starlit sky.

“We could stay here, if you wish it.”

Her eyes met his in the darkness of the tent. With no light, it was difficult to discern much about him. His presence, as well as the scent of mint, all mixed up with the clean, musky aroma of masculinity, filled the air. She wondered how it could be that she had been so unaware of this man.

“I had not intended that we stay here,” he said. “As well as speaking to you, I have to be about my night duties.”

“Night duties? I didn’t know you had night duties, beyond taking your turn at standing watch.”

She could sense his frown as he voiced, “Are you truly unaware of them?”

“Of course I am. When we made the arrangements for this trip, you said nothing about night duties.”

“Annisa, this is my mistake. I assumed you would understand that protecting you would demand I use the evening to scout, seeking the best trail to follow. If there is an enemy about, I will find him in the evening, thus allowing me to avoid any trail that would intersect with his.”

Effie sat silently for a moment. “I had no idea.” She frowned. “I am not familiar with scouting. In truth, I assumed you knew the trails so well that⁠—”

“I do know them. What I do not know is where the enemy is. This I determine by looking for him at night.”

“When do you sleep?”

“In the early evening usually.”

“But that would only allow you a few hours of sleep if you have to scout ahead and search for enemies at night.”

“It is enough sleep…for now. When we reach my country, I will rest.”