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Rain Shadow(8)

By:Cheryl St.John


He turned his gaze on her. Quickly, she lowered her eyes to her task.

"Smoke?"

Anton studied the pipe Two Feathers offered.

"You won't insult him if you don't smoke," Rain Shadow said softly.

"Can I try it, Gramps?" Nikolaus squirmed into Johann's lap, his eyes wide with excitement.

"'Fraid not, Toad," his grandfather replied with a chuckle. "Leastwise not till you grow a few whiskers."

"Aw." He frowned, disappointed. "You try it, Papa!"

Not wanting to breach etiquette, Anton accepted the carved pipe despite  Rain Shadow's words. He puffed a few times, decided it wise not to  inhale the smoke and passed it back.

Two Feathers wore a craggy smile at the corner of his full mouth.

"Can I be escused now?" Nikolaus asked his father.

"May I be excused," Anton corrected.

"May I be excused?"

"Yes, you may. Mind your manners and thank..." Anton felt his face grow  warm and cursed himself for allowing her to make him feel like a youth.  He made himself say her name. "Rain Shadow."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome." Rain Shadow picked up a plate she had prepared. "If Slade's awake, he's hungry."

Johann and Anton thanked her for the meal. "Any time you'd like a  chicken, you're welcome," Anton offered, thinking to save them some  effort. They had no kitchen, and it was a long way into Butler for  supplies. "There are vegetables still in the ground out back of the  house, too."

"We have no need of your chickens, Mr. Neubauer." Her purple eyes  flashed, and she shimmied gracefully past him, fringe slapping against  her calves. "We eat what we catch, and it's good enough for us."                       
       
           



       

"I didn't mean―"

She was gone.

"Well, for..." He stared after her. That woman was as grumpy as an old  grizzly with a thorn in its foot. Two Feathers met his startled  expression with a knowing gaze.

"I didn't mean to insult anybody," Anton said. "I thought it'd be one less worry."

"I am not offended." The Indian puffed at his pipe.

Perhaps not, but the woman was definitely offended. Why did she  interpret his every word as a gibe? Better for him if he kept his  distance. And kept his mouth shut.

He stood and stretched his legs. It had been a long, tiring day, and  daylight would beckon before he was ready. "After you say good-night to  Slade, we'll get you to bed, Nikolaus."

"How 'bout a game of checkers before bed, Pa?"

"It's pretty late."

"Just one?"

Anton looked into his son's vivid blue eyes. He didn't give the boy the  attention he deserved. The thought reminded him that he needed to do  something about that.

Tomorrow was another early start, and Anton hadn't been sleeping  soundly. Another night on the sofa in the parlor wasn't the rest he  needed. He wouldn't sleep that well anyway, so he may as well indulge in  a game of checkers. "Okay. Just one."

"Yippee! 'Night, Gramps."

Anton watched Nikolaus scamper out. Last night's plans with Sissy  Clanton had been disrupted. He hoped she'd received his message. She'd  know he'd been busy with the train, so he wasn't really worried. Next  Saturday night's barn dance would be time enough to put his search into  action. He had to find Nikolaus a mother. The sooner the better.

* * *

Another dawn broke, and Rain Shadow crept silently from the room where  Slade slept, so as not to disturb the Neubauers. Nearing the foot of the  stairs, a young voice called to her from the parlor. "Where ya goin'?"

She raised a finger to her pursed lips and whispered, "To find breakfast."

"Oh," Nikolaus replied disinterestedly as he padded barefoot to meet her at the staircase. "Oatmeal's in the bin in the pantry."

"I'll find my breakfast in the woods."

The sleepy cast fled from his expression. "You mean huntin'? You going huntin'?"

She nodded, smiling at his eager expression.

"My papa said he'd take me huntin', but he's been awful busy."

Casting a wary glance at the boy's long father sleeping on the short  sofa, she motioned for Nikolaus to join her in the kitchen. Anton had  been put out of his room and probably wasn't getting the rest he needed  after the strenuous days he put in. All the time he could spare from his  work had been taken up with helping the show people, and the least she  could do was take Nikolaus hunting so Anton could sleep.

"Get dressed quietly and come with me. You can carry the game back."

"Aw-right!" Her expression silenced him, and he bounded from the room.

* * *

The echo of rapid gunfire brought Anton off the sofa with a start. He  stumbled over the blanket wrapped around his knees and caught his  balance. Trying to orient himself, he realized Nikolaus wasn't on the  pile of blankets near the fireplace. Shots rang out again-six in rapid  succession.

Tugging on his denims, he ran through the kitchen to grab a rifle,  dashed out of the house and down the wooden porch stairs. "Nikolaus!"

Six more shots volleyed across the landscape. Cocking his head to  concentrate with his good ear, he honed in on the direction they'd come  from and ran. "Nikolaus!"

"Here, Pa!"

Anton raced toward his son's voice, cursing silently each time he  stepped on a stone or twig. The ground sloped toward a stream, and then  flattened into a broad shady area along the bank. There, with the early  morning chill pinkening their cheeks, he found his son and the woman,  both booted and hatted, their like expressions faintly apologetic.

Dressed in a pair of leather pants and a waist-length fringed jacket,  Rain Shadow slid her revolver into the holster, which rode her hip  comfortably. Strips of soft leather entwined one long braid. Her  wide-brimmed, flat-crowned hat was trimmed by a colorful beaded band.                       
       
           



       

"Sorry if we woke you," Rain Shadow said. "We were out in the woods for so long I figured everyone was up by now."

He didn't reply.

"Pa, look what Rain Shadow can do! She shoots these acorns right off the  log!" Nikolaus ran and placed a row of acorns along a fallen tree from  which the bark had long ago decayed, leaving a smooth, silverish log.  Several fresh gouges lined the top. He ran back and stood a few feet  from her. "Show him!"

"I think that's enough for this morning." She turned as if to move away.

Anton gestured with his rifle. "No. Go ahead. I'd like to see."

She gazed at Anton uneasily, noted the golden stubble he'd grown  overnight. His fair hair was mussed, his shirt-tails hung outside his  dungarees, and his long, bare toes curled into the dewy morning grass.  His mood didn't appear pleasant.

"All right," she said, deciding. Quick as lightning, she turned, drew and fired six shots.

Anton's stunned gaze shot from the gun she automatically reloaded to the bare log. A few more nicks graced the top.

"Good Lord," he said to no one in particular.

Nikolaus giggled with delight. "Watch this, Pa."

His boy knelt and picked up a walnut from a small pile at his feet.  Swinging his arm in a wide arc, he flung the nut into the air.

Rain Shadow raised the revolver in a flurry of swinging fringe, and the nut exploded into fragments.

The shot echoed in the crisp morning air.

Anton's clear blue eyes lowered from the cloudless sky and settled on  her face. She was accustomed to various reactions from men, the most  common the discomfort that a woman shot better than they. Deliberately,  he subdued an expression of awe.

"Look what else!" Nikolaus ran to a canvas bag under one of the trees and tugged the fabric open. "Turkeys, Pa. Two of'em!"

She could almost see the color of Anton's eyes darken to an intense,  angry blue. His posture rigid, he knelt and peered into the bag beside  his elated son. "Turkeys, huh? Well, what do ya know?"

"I'm gonna help clean and cook 'on, too. You're gonna eat with us, aren't ya?"

Rain Shadow watched him wrestle with his feelings and disguise his anger for his son's benefit. "Am I invited?"

Nikolaus raised an inquiring face to her.

"Certainly. Everyone is invited."

Anton stood. "You shot the grouse yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Where did you learn to do this?"

"Practice. I've been around sharpshooters since I was your son's age."

"She knows Annie Oakley, Pa."

"That a fact?"

She tied her holster thong, tugged the drawstring bag closed and handed it to Nikolaus. "I'd better get back to Slade."

Anton fell in step behind her, picking his way across the ground.  Resentment flared, glowing hot as he watched his son trot adoringly  alongside her, toting the lumpy bag. His jealousy was irrational, but  he'd intended to take Nikolaus turkey hunting before she ever came  along. Guiltily, he realized it had been weeks since he'd made the  promise. If he'd had more time-