Saturday midday: Ft. Peck Indian Reservation

“Lindsay, these are the gentlemen I spoke to you about,” Neha said. “This is Red Feather.”

Lindsay smiled and extended her hand, “Pleased to meet you. Neha has told me much about you, Mr. Red Feather.”

“Please, everyone calls me Red,” he replied.

Lindsay glanced past Red Feather at the younger, much larger Cheyenne standing behind him. Yellow Wolf seemed frozen in place, mesmerized, his eyes fixed on Lindsay as if he were a ten-year-old meeting Wonder Woman. The stare caused her to blush.  She was no stranger to men being smitten with her beauty and took it all in stride unless the looks were excessive or creepy.

“And this is Yellow Wolf,” Neha continued. “He’s a close friend of Red’s.”

“Happy to meet you,” Lindsay said, stepping forward.

Yellow Wolf’s eyes grew wide as Lindsay approached and extended her hand.  He was embarrassed by his own star-struck reaction. Yellow Wolf swallowed hard, looked to the ground and cleared his throat.

“Everyone calls him Matty,” Red Feather said. “Dude, where’s your manners? Shake the woman’s hand.”

Lindsay grinned again at the big man’s reaction. It was only when he reached out and shook her hand that the smile disappeared from her face. The Cheyenne’s hand was enormous, and it swallowed hers. His grip was gentle, but she felt its immense strength. The enormous palm and fingers reminded her of someone.  Someone special to her.

She looked up and met his eyes. Yellow Wolf met her gaze and his face formed an involuntary smile. Lindsay blushed a little again, feeling herself reacting to his touch.

“I'm pleased to meet you also,” he said, breaking the eye contact.

Yellow Wolf continued to hold on to her hand, shaking it for a long time.

“You can let her hand go now, Matty,” Neha said. 

Lindsay chuckled, red in the face.

“Don’t mind my friend,” Red Feather said. “It’s his first time meeting a woman.”

“Huh?” Yellow Wolf replied, releasing his grip on Lindsay’s hand and coming out of his trance.

“Why don’t you boys get your bags out of the truck?” Neha said.

“Bags...” Yellow Wolf repeated. “Yes, the bags. Good call.”

He looked at Red Feather, “Come on Red, let’s go.”

Red Feather chuckled as his friend struggled to maintain composure, “I think that’s a really good idea.”

The two men walked outside toward the pickup.

“What the hell was that?” Red Feather asked. “It was embarrassing for me to watch that.”

“You were embarrassed? Imagine how it was for me,” Yellow Wolf replied. “That was the most awkward moment of my life. She was the most stunning woman I’ve ever met in person.  Have you ever seen anyone more beautiful?”

“I’d like to think my Rose is damn gorgeous,” Red Feather answered, “but you’re right, Lindsay Vanderbilt is one beautiful woman.”

“Is she single?” Yellow Wolf asked.

“Yes, but don’t go getting ideas,” Red Feather said. “You are not here to strike up a romance. You are here to help me watch over her and protect her, and besides...”

“Besides what?” Yellow Wolf asked.

Red Feather held up his left hand, palm up, “A rich, smart, beautiful white girl.” He held up his right hand, “A poor, dumb, broke Indian.”

He motioned his hands up and down as if trying to balance the two ideas.

“I get it,” Yellow Wolf said. He reached into the back of Neha’s truck, grabbed two bags and set them on the ground. He looked at Red Feather again.

“What?” Red asked.

“Still, I thought she gave me... a look,” he said.

“Matty, don’t set yourself up for a fall,” Red Feather said. “She’s the sole heir to the Vanderbilt fortune. Her picture is in fashion magazines. Your picture is in bars with the caption, Don't accept checks from this man. She’s way out of your league.”

Yellow Wolf sighed, “Yeah, I know, but a man can dream.”

“Wipe the drool off your face, put your eyes back in their sockets and let’s go back inside,” Red Feather said. “And show a little pride, man.”

Yellow Wolf shrugged and nodded.

 

Forty-feet away, Lindsay Vanderbilt was peeking through the curtains.

“What are you looking at?” Neha asked.

“He’s gorgeous,” Lindsay replied.

“And he’s married,” Neha cautioned.

“No, not Red Feather,” she shot back. “The big one.”

“Yellow Wolf?”

“Yeah, Matty.”

Neha peeked out the window. She smiled.

“He reminds you of someone doesn’t he?” she noted.

“Not unless you mean a younger version of Jackson,” she replied. A wide smile appeared on her face.

“He does remind me of a younger Rainhorse,” Neha admitted.

“And with fewer bullet holes in his body,” Lindsay agreed. “Did you see the arms and shoulders on that guy?”

Neha chuckled, “He’s a big boy, all right.”

“Is he single?” Lindsay wanted to know.

“As far as I know,” Neha replied.

“Why are they here again?” Lindsay asked.

“I’ve wanted to spruce up my place,” Neha said. “Red Feather is a gardener and all-around handyman.  I knew Red when he was a little boy. Matty works with him. Work is scarce where they live, so...”

The wide grin Lindsay had been wearing disappeared. She furrowed her brow.

“Spruce the place up?” Lindsay interjected. “I’ve never heard you mention that before.”

Neha shrugged, “It’s time. This old place could use a nip and a tuck.”

“So, they will stay awhile?” Lindsay interjected.

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know, but cool your jets, girl. Matty is not here to be your personal boy-toy.”

Lindsay grinned again.  It had been a long while since she had a boyfriend and her recent dreams had caused her to think about sex... a lot. She was still a virgin, but no nun. Ever since she’d been kidnapped, life had been a whirlwind for her. She'd been on a few dates here and there, but never with one boy (or man) more than twice. She had had such a girl-crush on Rainhorse; she held every man she’d met up against him for comparison. None of them measured up—not even close.

“I’ll be good,” she said, peeking through the curtains again.