Through the Fire (The Native American Warrior Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the evening before were gone. Only a small contingent remained; some nursed wounds they ’d received. Blankets, pots, and cups strewn about the site suggested the larger party would return, though possibly not for hours.
    The sound of voices drifted to her. After a moment, she detected the low thread that was Shoka ’s. Through the leaves, she spotted him at the far end of camp speaking with two men seated at the base of a tree. Neither were warriors. Both were bound at the wrists and ankles. She strained to see.
    “ Lieutenant McClure,” she whispered in relief. She hadn’t actually seen him fall in the bloody attack, just assumed he lay among the dead.
    Shoka hadn ’t said a word about any soldiers taken captive. The prisoners could do nothing for her, though, or she for them unless she sought help. At least she wasn’t tied up. Would she be bound when she’d regained her strength?
    Quite possibly. An unbearable thought.
    She should get away while there were few to guard her. Still, it only took one. Shoka would foil any attempt she made to flee—
    A hand on her shoulder splintered her scheming thoughts. She flinched and looked up into the friendly face of the young brave who ’d brought her meat the evening before.
    Smiling reassuringly, he held out a large piece of bark stacked with venison. “Eat, lady.”
    Cold game was far from her usual breakfast fare, but this might be the last food she ’d have for some time. Nodding her appreciation, she lifted a slice from the improvised platter and chewed while the young man watched, his eyes on her every move. The meat was flat and flavorless this morning. Even so, it would strengthen her, and she needed all the vigor she could muster.
    Urging her to take more, he extended the venison again.
    She forced down another piece and stopped. An unsettled stomach could only hold so much. “Thank you, no.”
    He stepped over to what looked like a birch tree and broke off a twig. He darted back to hand it to her. “For your teeth.”
    She nibbled on the unlikely toothbrush then chewed with more relish as it released a minty wintergreen flavor.
    “You like?” He sat beside her.             
    “ Very much. Meshewa?”
    He nodded, obviously pleased by her mastery of his name. “Rebecca Ell-iot?”
    Shoka must have told him. “Just call me Becca,’” she said. “How old are you?”
    “ I see eighteen harvest moons.”
    “ Eighteen. The same age as my sister.” And he appeared as completely without guile as Kate.
    “ She is woman who stays on the fast horse?” he asked.
    Rebecca winced at the cutting pain of the memory. “Yes.”
    Meshewa crinkled hazel eyes in concern. “You fall hard. Better, now?”
    “ A bit,” she said, a plan of escape taking shape in her mind. She’d been praised for her keen wits; now was the time to use them. But she must act quickly before Shoka came.
    “ How many harvest moons do you see, Becca?”
    “ Twenty.”
    “ You look more. Such beauty you have,” he hastened to add, as if fearful of having insulted her.
    He was engagingly sweet, surprising in a warrior. If she weren ’t so desperate, she might enjoy sitting here speaking with him. Unlike Shoka, he hadn’t yet schooled himself to guard his emotions.
    “ You are kind. Meshewa, may I go to the water?”
    “ Alone?” A shade came over his eyes. He shook his head.
    He wasn ’t quite as gullible as she’d hoped. Another idea occurred to her that would suit this seemingly naive youth perfectly. It smacked of dishonor, but she was in no position to stand on scruples. She fixed him with a pleading look that had softened far harder hearts than his. “Will you take me?”
    He blinked. “Shoka come soon. He take you.”
    “ Must we wait? Please, I’d rather go with you.”
    Meshewa wavered and then stood. He gestured. “We go.”
    She rose stiffly and walked down the bank beside him. Dainty meadow rue and tiny gold daisies no bigger than her thumb bloomed amid