Chapter Thirty

 

“Fox Dancing!” Luke blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating or if his young Cheyenne sister stood beyond the bars on the grass outside. A year had passed since he’d learned of her existence. The night was burned firmly in his mind. She had been unconscious in the loft of his new barn, fighting for her life the night of Brandon and Charity’s engagement party.

Roady discovered her and climbed down the ladder with her in his arms, a picture Luke would never forget. Until that day, he’d been ignorant of her birth. Her beauty and strength, as she stood proud before him now, sent a surge of joy through his heart. Knowing she was alive and well was a gift all in itself.

“Luke,” Faith whispered, from her spot on the other side of the room. “Is someone out there?”

Turning, he was unable to hide his happiness. “Fox Dancing,” he whispered, knowing his wide smile must look absurd. Since she’d departed the ranch last year, he had no way of tracking her whereabouts. Or knowing whether she was alive or dead. What her people were going through. He turned back to the window.

She looked well, and better, strong and fit. Confident. Her dark eyes flashed rebelliously, and she held her frame straight and fearless. A warm breeze lifted a colorful feather attached to the bottom of a narrow braid, almost lost in her thick mane.

Her appearance in his life then had been a huge surprise, as it was today. Why was she here? And what would transpire if anyone from this town saw her? He pushed his arm through the bars.

She reached up, touching his fingers.

Her impish smile made him chuckle. “Fox Dancing,” he whispered, the gravity of the situation returning. “If you’re seen, I can’t help you.”

“I’m happy to see you too, important white brother,” she replied quietly. “You have no words of greeting for your long-lost Cheyenne sister?”

Oh, how he wished he were out of this jail. The sound of her voice was enough to move mountains of sentimentality through him.

“Of course I’m happy,” he whispered. “I’m thrilled to death. A year is much too long between visits. But I fear for your safety.” He looked around behind the jailhouse, imagining all sorts of trouble. Deputy Clark running forward with his gun, taking aim. A mob of angry townsfolk. “You need to leave now. You can do nothing to help.”

“It is your safety you should be worried about,” she replied with all confidence.

He realized that she was probably right.

“Not mine. I am free, where I’ll remain. Stupid white dogs want you to hang. They don’t care if you’re guilty or not. Your Indian blood is all the reason they need.”

She’s dead-on again. How can I make her understand her being here makes things worse for me? If something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. “If anyone sees you off the reservation, they’ll lock you up or worse. You must go.”

“Save your breath, brother. We hear my white brother in trouble. We come swiftly.”

Luke jerked his gaze from her face and searched the landscape until he spotted Painted Bear Stone hidden in a thicket of trees, a rifle cradled in his arms and a bow draped over his shoulder. Luke could feel the brave’s defiance from where he watched. Over the year, Painted Bear Stone had grown stronger. Taller. Luke was sure his gaze missed nothing as he kept guard. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his love.

“I see him,” Luke said quietly, feeling a growing despair. “Painted Bear Stone.”

Her eyebrow peaked. “My husband.”

Luke smiled again. The rightness of the union calmed his soul. “Congratulations. I’m happy to hear that news. Be sure to tell my new brother-in-law I fervently approve. I just hope he doesn’t regret his decision after you start bossing him around.”

Again the eyebrow, but this time with amusement playing on her lips. And love pouring from her eyes. They were a good match. “How did you hear I’d been jailed?”

“We have our ways. Since I returned from Y Knot last year, everyone knows of my Luke. Not everyone lives in the white man’s camps. We—” She glanced over her shoulder at Painted Bear Stone. “We come and go. Can’t stand to stay on reservation for long. We live on land, our land, unseen and unheard.”

She was avoiding his question. He asked again.

“Like a bird flying across country, word found me. I will never abandon you, Luke. Our spirits are connected, more so than just our blood. We think alike. Feel alike. I’ve lived your frustration since you’ve been caged.”

He let out a deep sigh. As glad as he was to see that she was still alive, fear for her life was stronger. “You can’t fight the whole town.”

“Who says I’ll do that?”

Anger welled. She was being foolish. “Me. I know you better than you think. You’re right about our spirits. I can tell what you’re thinking now.”

Her chin tipped in defiance.

“Listen to me, Fox Dancing. You and Painted Bear Stone are only two against many. Get whatever you’re thinking out of your head.”

Her brow arched as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d just said.

“Luke?” Faith asked more insistently. “How is she? What is she saying?”

He kept hold of the bars but turned to look at Faith. “She and Painted Bear Stone are married,” he whispered, then chuckled at her smile. “Just like us, they’re tied together for life.” He liked the way that statement lit up Faith’s expression.

Luke sobered. The seriousness of the situation loomed. He turned back to his sister. “The McCutcheon name has no pull in this town. The best way to help me is to go home now. As your older, responsible brother, I expect you to respect my wishes.”

At the sound of someone approaching, Luke quickly stepped off the cot and spun. Leaning his shoulder to the wall, he looked at his fingernails. Stupid to be sure, but that was all time allowed.

“Mrs. McCutcheon…”

Luke lifted his gaze.

Deputy Clark strode into the room and pulled to a stop.

His eyes narrowed. He looked back and forth between Luke and Faith; most likely discerning what the strange sense in the room was all about.

Faith stood by the cell, one bar grasped in each hand, her face flushed and her eyes wide.

Luke strode over to the bars and took one of her hands. “What do you want, Deputy?” he barked. “Can’t you see my wife is upset? Do you have to pester us every minute of the day?”

Faith blinked several times, and then moisture sprang into her eyes. “What now, Deputy Clark?” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m just so tired of this. You need to come to your senses. My husband didn’t kill anyone.”

Clark looked between them again, his nostrils flaring.

Did the man suspect something? Faith was playing her part to the hilt. Luke needed to stall Clark a little longer so Fox Dancing and Painted Bear Stone could get out of sight.

“You’ve been awfully quiet in here for the past few minutes,” he said, walking closer. Clark sucked on his upper teeth. “What’s going on? Care to let me in on the big secret?”

“How can anything be going on?” Faith replied, her tone turning icy. “I’m just wondering about Smokey and Colton. Did they run into trouble at the restaurant when they went to get coffee? The way the citizens of Priest’s Crossing have turned against good, law-abiding people is not right. You’ll see when we prove my husband’s innocence.”

Good girl, keep Deputy Clark busy.

Faith straightened. “I’ll go check on them. I don’t trust this town where my son is concerned.” She looked at Luke. “They even pick on a small boy.”

Luke reached for her arm. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said in his no-nonsense voice. “You’re staying right here until Smokey returns. You know my rule. You don’t go anywhere without him. I’m sorry I let him go. Maybe the restaurant was out of coffee and they had to perk a new pot. Any number of things could be keeping ’em, but you’re not finding out.”

“Whatever you say, McCutcheon,” Clark said. “You’re a strange pair. I don’t even remember what I came in here to ask you. Something of Mrs. McCutcheon, but…”

The tall man scratched his head, but Luke didn’t buy his stupid act at all. He’d seen the way the deputy watched and listened. His gaze strayed to the window one too many times, and the way he gnawed on the inside of his cheek meant he wanted to get to something else. He was suspicious. And if he wasn’t, he should be. Or did he have something to hide, as well? That was an interesting thought. Luke wished he was free to investigate the town himself.

The man spun on his heel and left.

Luke heard him talking low to Jones in the outer room, even though he couldn’t make out their words. When Faith opened her mouth to say something, Luke quickly held a finger to his lips.

Jones’ chair scraped on the floor. A few more whispers and then the outer room was quiet.

“They aren’t as dumb as they look, or that we think they are,” Luke whispered. “We need to be very careful. Fox Dancing is playing with fire showing up.” He fisted a hand and stared at Faith. “We need to take action soon. The longer I’m in here, the longer she and Painted Bear Stone are in jeopardy of being discovered. Of course, she wouldn’t think of going home.”

“She loves you, Luke.” Faith reached into the cell and tenderly stroked his arm. “We all do. I understand her motives. Besides, you didn’t really think she’d leave, did you?”

He gazed at her, wondering where she was taking this.

“The two of you have the same blood. What if she’d told you to go home that horrible night in Pine Grove when that horde of fired-up men wanted to hang her? I’m sure you’d have just ridden out because she asked you nicely.”

His gut tightened. That was a terrifying night. “It’s not the same thing. She’s a girl. Younger than Charity.”

“A young woman. She and Painted Stone are married. All her life she’s been fighting to stay alive. You might be surprised at how clever a young, helpless woman can be.”

Faith had him there. A day didn’t pass that he wasn’t surprised by his wife, Charity, or now Fox Dancing. Even Dawn and little Holly were turning out to be forces to be reckoned with. He might as well give up trying to get his younger sister to comply.

“Good. I can see you’ve come to your senses.”

Faith might be right that he didn’t have any power to protect Fox Dancing, but that truth didn’t make him happy. No sir. Not one little bit.