Page 61 of Red Hawk's Woman

“I am glad you appreciate them. Come.” He assumed once again a hands-and-knees position. “There is a stand of bushes next to the stream ahead of us.” He pointed. “Do you see them?”

“Yes.”

“We will go there. So far, I have not detected a sign of an enemy, but we must be certain. I will take you to the stream. There, you may relax, and I will scout the area around the place, to ensure it is safe enough to stay there.”

“Very well.”

It took only a few minutes to crawl to the bushes, which grew in a thick patch adjacent to the narrow shoreline of the stream. The two of them did literally crawl there, on arms and belly.

She said, “I don’t think I will ever take your duties for granted again, Mr. Hawk.”

He didn’t acknowledge this. “Wait here. Do not move, do not say anything, do nothing at all until I return. Do you understand?”

“May I breathe?”

He shot her an alluring grin, and then he was gone.

She scratched a particularly itchy part of her skin, wondering what she would look like on the morrow. Would she be red from the mud caked all over her? Would she have welts where the dry and unruly grasses had scratched her?

At least the mud acted as a sort of protection, which went a long way to shield her against many cuts and scrapes. But dear Lord, her feminine persona was certainly taking a beating tonight. With gook covering every inch of her, she probably looked more like a monster than a woman. So much for her vision of strolling leisurely across the prairie, with Red Hawk admiring her beauty beneath a full moon.

There wasn’t even a full moon. In fact, there was no moon at all this night. At first she’d fretted over this condition—certain it would be too dark to go anywhere. Red Hawk had calmed her, telling her that the lack of a moon was to their advantage.

“Old Woman, or the moon, as you call her,” he had explained, “casts shadows, and a scout must always be wary of his silhouette beneath her beams, for its reflection can be seen even when he cannot be.”

Settling down beneath the bushes and glancing above her, she looked at the millions of stars winking at her.

She was startled by a sound. What was that?

Her heart beat a cadence against her chest. There it was again. A snapping sound, like someone moving. She looked in the direction from whence it came and saw that a doe had wandered to the stream, just ahead of her.

She hadn’t sensed its presence, and she felt a little silly for starting at the least sound. Inhaling deeply, if only to calm herself, she was at once struck by the fragrances of the night. Here in the bushes was a leafy scent, quite different from the earthy odor of the grasses and mud to which she had become quite accustomed this evening.

“I believe this place is secure enough.”

Effie jumped. She hadn’t heard Red Hawk return.

“Don’t do that,” she gasped. “Don’t sneak up on me like you have done just now. There is enough to be frightened of in the night, without you giving me a start.”

“But I made much noise.”

“Perhaps you did. However, I am not accustomed to this and do not know what sounds are dangerous and what are not.”

“You are right, of course. But I disagree that there is much to be frightened of at night. It is the safest time in which to travel.”

“Perhaps,” she said, not willing to give quarter.

He seemed to have dismissed the subject, and he sat down beside her and held out his hand. “I have brought some dry meat with me. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” She took the proffered jerky. “I hadn’t even thought of food or getting hungry on the trail. I guess maybe I didn’t think we would be gone very long.”

“We will be traveling through most of the night. It is to be regretted that it is taking longer for me to scout the trail ahead of us. But it is necessary to go slower.”

“Because of me.”

“Because I would be more careful and keep you safe.”

“Thank you, I think.” She stretched. “I surely need the rest. I am so tired and sore that I believe I will sleep well tomorrow night.”