Yet she knew better than to try and interfere. Her sons had a way of keeping secrets from their mother. This saddened her, yet she had grown used to it and accepted it and loved them no less for it.
Runner placed the food into his saddlebag, then swung himself up onto his horse. “I will do my best to find my brother,” he said, then wheeled his horse around and rode away.
He rode for several hours, even traveling as far as where he had seen Thunder Hawk that one night when it was quite late, but there were no signs of his brother anywhere.
He rode on and on, stopping only to refresh his horse beside a meandering stream and to eat his fill of his mother’s delicious bread. Then he rode onward again, watching for the signs of any travelers on all sides of him.
When he knew that his search had taken him perhaps too far than what was normal for Thunder Hawk’s travels, he started to turn his horse back in the direction of home, but stopped and edged his steed behind a cover of bushes when he saw two people approaching on horses. His gut twisted when he spied a pack mule ambling behind them.
“Stephanie and Adam!” he hissed through angry, clenched teeth.
With guarded deliberation, he watched their approach. When they rode past him, not realizing he was there, his heart beat angrily within him: the direction of their travel would take them to Canyon de Chelley! Adam was taking Stephanie there for her to photograph what Runner had explained to her was sacred.
She was going against Runner’s wishes, and he did not have to think long as to why she felt free to do this. Adam had surely told her that he had confessed everything to Runner about how she was tricking him. Now that she knew that the truth had been told, she obviously did not care what Runner would think about her going to Canyon de Chelley. She was free to do as she pleased.
This proved to Runner that her love for him had never been sincere. She would never photograph what he had asked her not to unless she no longer cared what he thought.
“Little white woman, we shall see about that,” Runner said, anger flushing his face red.
After they got farther up the trail, he began following them.
Chapter 24
She yet more pure, sweet, straight and fair,
Than gardens, woods, meads, rivers are.
—ANDREW MARVELL
Several horses trailing behind him on ropes, Thunder Hawk’s heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and fear as he rode proud and tall on his Navaho horse. Sky Dancer’s village was in view. He could hardly wait to see her again, yet fears of being rejected by not only her father but also Sky Dancer ate away at Thunder Hawk. She had no idea that he was arriving at her village to ask for her hand in marriage. He hoped that he had read her eyes correctly the many times they had seen one another at each of their village’s joint celebrations and feasts.
He glanced over his shoulder at the horses that he had either found wandering or had stolen from Damon Stout. One by one, his eyes roamed from horse to horse, mentally counting them.
“Fifteen,” he whispered. “Surely that is enough for the bride price.”
It had to be enough. These were all that he had been able to find, or steal, and keep in his secret corral.
He directed his eyes toward the village again as he rode closer to it in a slow lope. It had become too dangerous to steal any more horses from Damon Stout. Word had been brought to Thunder Hawk that Damon had been at Fort Defiance lodging complaints against the Navaho people. That had to mean that Damon’s horses would be guarded too closely for Thunder Hawk to ever steal from him again.
“Fifteen,” he repeated. “Will that be enough to please Chief Red Moon?”
Frowning, he recalled Sky Dancer’s father. Chief Red Moon’s reputation was known far and wide as a fierce leader who dealt severely with those who became his enemy. He had warriors guarding his enchanting daughter both day and night as though she were an untouchable, sacred object.
As he should, Thunder Hawk thought. She was beautiful beyond words; and so sweet, just looking at her had melted his heart.
“She is only fifteen winters,” Thunder Hawk worried aloud. He feared that this could be one of Chief Red Moon’s arguments against his young daughter taking a husband.
“My own age could be a problem,” Thunder Hawk continued to worry aloud. In his lifetime, he had only witnessed seventeen winters. In the Navaho tradition, it was the custom for the men to marry at a much later age.
But not every man fell so totally in love at this age, he thought. And not every Navaho brave his age was forced to attend the white man’s school. Once married, he would assume the duties of a husband. The foolishness of an education would be no longer forced upon him, as though he were a mere child.
This thought made determination replace his fear. He must make a good impression. He had to leave this village today with Sky Dancer riding at his side.
A shudder ran through him at the thought of how he might be received back at his village with a bride. He had already deceived his parents by sneaking away from school yesterday to come on this pilgrimage of the heart. Surely when they saw the reason why—that he had gone to seek a wife, and then saw who his bride was—they would no longer be angry at him.
Everyone adored Sky Dancer. Who would not want her as a daughter-in-law?
Still, he thought with another shudder, if Chief Red Moon sent him from the village empty-handed, what excuse could he give his parents then? To make things up to them, he would have to attend school for many weeks without sneaking away.