Movement sounded inside. The flap opened, and Rain Shadow stepped out. "Mr. Neubauer."
"You?" He couldn't help noticing the cream-colored doeskin dress she wore, quills and beads gracing the front. The soft leather clung to her petite body's every curve. "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
He gestured. "The tepee and all, I mean."
"I got my things this morning, as I said."
"Yeah, well. I didn't know you were gonna set up your..."
"Lodge? Your father said it would be no inconvenience to set it up here."
"You discussed it with my pa?"
Her tempestuous lavender eyes narrowed under graceful jet brows. "Is there a problem?"
Behind him, the springboard rolled up the drive. Uncomfortable under her gaze, he turned and watched his father lead the team into the barn. "Something wrong with the house?"
"Pardon?"
"I'm guessing you figure to stay out here."
"I've put your family out enough already, Mr. Neubauer. And I prefer my lodge."
"But it's extra trouble for you to come and go taking care of the boy."
Rain Shadow half smiled and shook her head, her black braid brushing the front of her dress in a caress he tried not to notice. At the same time, he thought how unfair it was that the first woman to catch his attention in all those sensually riveting little ways couldn't have been Sissy Clanton.
"Hardly. I'm used to more activity than a little walking."
Determinedly, he kept his gaze nailed on her amethyst eyes, ignoring the way her bow-shaped lips curved up provocatively at the corners. "But there's frost on the ground at night. You'll get cold out hoe."
She laughed outright. Her teeth were the perfect foil for her rich black hair and honey-hued skin. "As long as we can make a fire, it's warm inside. The hides hold in the heat, just like they did on the buffalo."
"What if it rains or snows?" Anton gestured to the smoke escaping the off-center opening.
She pointed to the two lightweight poles holding the smoke flap open. "By moving those, the flaps adjust to compensate for wind and weather. The lodge faces east, and the greater slant of the front braces it against wind from the back."
Anton shifted his weight. He could hardly argue his position with, "What will the neighbors think?" That would be pompous.
"All settled?" His father stepped up beside him, his question directed at Rain Shadow.
"Thank you, yes. I gathered firewood this afternoon."
"There's a whole pile out behind the house," Anton offered, and wondered why his usually dexterous father stepped on his foot and elbowed him in the ribs.
"Good, good," Johann continued as though his son hadn't spoken. "Doc been around yet?"
She shook her head.
"Well," the older man said with a shrug. "I reckon he's still busy tending folks hurt worse. He'll be by shortly."
Rain Shadow nodded.
"Anton, do you think this is a snake hole over here?"
He followed his father to a spot on the ground where he saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"You know," Johann said and rubbed his chin. "I'll wager it helps her feel safe havin' her own place to stay. She might be white on the outside, but inside she's an Indian. This tepee is part of their culture. She and Two Feathers would no more move into our house than an eagle would build a nest in the barn rafters."
Anton glanced over his shoulder at the young woman in the beautifully decorated dress. His pa approved. No use arguing.
"I guess that wasn't a snake hole after all." Johann's faded blue eyes revealed a sparkle of mirth. He appeared to be enjoying the whole situation enormously.
The tent was staying. It didn't matter to him. He headed for the barn. "I have cows to milk."
* * *
Dawn spread its first golden rays through a stand of eastern hemlock's sparse boughs, and a pair of thrushes called to one another. Two Feathers' breath hung in the brisk air. Morning was his favorite time of day. From the rise behind the house, he surveyed the Neubauers' wooden lodges and animal quarters. To the west, meadows and woods stretched as far as his no-longer-youthful eyes could see, to the east, acres of fields plowed under. Rich, fertile soil. Land and crops blessed by Waken Tanka.
Here there was game-pheasant, turkey, and ruffled grouse. He'd seen signs of possum, rabbit and squirrel. A person living on this land could support himself indefinitely. It had been two days since he'd heard the piercing whistle of the iron horse, two restful moons since he'd listened to men roll dice and play cards until the sun rose.
How long would it be until the farmer's medicine man proclaimed the injured ready to move out of the house? Colonel Cody was overseeing the restoration of the train, and it would soon be time to ride it south. Slade would not be ready to leave with the others. Rain Shadow had already spoken of her plan to stay with her son. If Two Feathers left without them, would she catch up soon as she'd planned? A wary sensation brought unease to his spirit. He didn't want to go without her.
The sun appeared over the horizon, a glorious fiery sphere. He raised his palms toward the earth's sustenance and chanted.
As he finished the prayer, Johann Neubauer ambled up beside him. Two Feathers appreciated the pungent aroma of the pipe the silver-haired man held between his teeth. Smoke curled past his faded blue eyes. He squinted at Two Feathers.
"Nothing like a peaceful mornin'." Johann took his hand from a deep pocket in his wool jacket long enough to adjust the pipe.
What kind of spirit sense did the old man have? Two Feathers eyed him.
"Your daughter gets up mighty early, too."
"We have always risen to greet the sun."
"Nice girl."
"Fine sons you have. Land to call your own. You have been blessed."
Johann nodded. "I have."
"Living with our children beside us is how the Indian chooses to live."
"Yep. We've got a lot in common."
"Many seasons have passed without your wife?"
"Many. I always pictured us growing old together. Watching our sons grow into men." Johann shrugged. "God didn't have the same plan."
Two Feathers heard the pain in his voice, knew Johann's joy was half because he had no woman to share it. "I, too, lost a wife." Strange that he should reveal his sorrow to a near stranger, but sharing it seemed right. "And a daughter."
Johann nodded in empathy.
"Rain Shadow took their place in my heart."
No doubt Johann's curiosity was unsatisfied, but he remained politely silent.
"We are much alike." An inexplicable bond had formed between them. They both loved the land and respected life. Both had raised their children alone. Both were kindred spirits. "I go to catch trout for breakfast. I would be honored to have you join me."
Johann's seamy grin was lopsided. "I'll fetch my pole."
* * *
The hall clock struck a few times, but Nikolaus didn't bother to count. It was early. His grandfather had just left the house. Nikolaus crept stealthily to the doorway of his father's room.
"C'mon in."
The voice from within startled him, and he straightened, slowly pushing the door open.
"What's your name?" the dark-haired boy asked.
"Nikolaus."
Head and shoulders propped up on stark white-cased pillows, the Indian boy laid down the catalog he'd been thumbing through. "Hi, Nikolaus. I'm Slade Two Feathers."
"You a real Injun?" Nikolaus edged to the foot of the bed.
"Nah. Just in the show. My grampa's full-blooded Lakota Sioux, though."
"My grampa's German. He can talk it, too. Can your grampa talk Indian?"
"Sure. This your house?"
"Yup. My room's down there, but there's a lady with something busted in my bed. I been sleeping down in the parlor with my pa." He rounded the foot and perched on the bed's side. "Does your leg hurt?"
"Sometimes," Slade replied with a shrug. "Mostly today my butt hurts from laying like this."
Nikolaus widened his eyes at the other boy. "Does your ma let you say that?"
"What?"
"What you said."
"That my butt hurts?"
"Yeah."
Slade shook his head with the superior wry humor his one-year age advantage lent him. "'Course she lets me say it. I ain't a baby."
Nikolaus' wide blue eyes sparkled in admiration. "I could sneak in my room and get my horses if you wanna see 'em."
"Sure."
"Okay!" He bounced off the bed and turned back before he reached the door. "D'you wanna be friends?"