Wind Dancer Read Online Free PDF Page A

they hadn’t heard him.
    Leaning to see past a thorny bush, he heard the voice of a woman and the lower tones of men—two of them, he thought—but he couldn’t make out their faces in the dim light. Creeping closer, he strained to hear what they were saying.
    â€œThat was close! Mon Dieu , Julian, did you see it?” A woman asked.
    â€œYes, of course I saw it. But must you scream? You fear so little, why must you fear thunderstorms so?” The man sounded irritated, and Samuel found himself grinning.
    Another flash of lightning lit up the area, giving Samuel enough light to see three forms under low, leafy branches. An Indian stood off at a distance watching the sky, while a woman stood at the side of the other man, their backs hugging a short, fat tree. Moving closer still, he waited for more clues as to their identity before revealing himself. They might never be so honest as when being unknowingly watched.
    â€œI’m not afraid,” she protested, “just startled is all. Why must you always exaggerate, Julian?”
    The man called Julian huffed. “You were in mother’s bed, hiding under the covers during the last storm. I saw you.”
    â€œSpying were you? I might have known. And I wasn’t hiding, I was … comforting mother. She was alone again; the storms bother her.”
    â€œYes, of course. It is mother who is afraid of thunder and lightning. Pray, forgive me, I should have known better.”
    Samuel nearly chuckled aloud. He had enough siblings of his own to recognize this squabble.
    The Indian spoke. “Enough.” He said it with quiet authority, and they both became silent until all Samuel could hear was the pelting of rain on leaves. The storm was diminishing, passing over like a great, dark bird.
    A soft voice broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Julian. I am a little afraid of storms. I have never been cornered under a tree by lightning, at any rate.” There was a smile in her voice that warmed it.
    â€œYes, well, neither of us has been nearly struck by lightning. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as well. We were lucky, eh, Quiet Fox?”
    The Indian grunted.
    Samuel squatted in the brush, letting the rain drip from the brim of his hat onto his back. He supposed he should make his presence known, but he didn’t want to get shot at. The Indian was alert and ready with his long rifle. Maybe he could circle around and come up from behind them. The rain would make enough noise to cover him. It was a better plan than just stepping out of the trees into the middle of an armed party.
    He stood slightly and backed his way into a clear section of the forest floor. It didn’t take long to silently tread around the threesome. When he came to the tree where the two were standing, he found that Julian had left his post beside the girl and had joined the Indian looking at the clouds. The girl—woman, he corrected himself, now seeing her shapely silhouette clearly against the tree trunk—was alone and digging through her pack. He inched forward, hoping to glimpse her face in the light of the blue-green sky that was growing brighter as the storm moved to the east.
    A sudden gust of wind moved the branches overhead, letting a shaft of light fall to the wet ground. The woman looked up, her face wet and beautiful in the strange light. Then, for no reason he could imagine, she suddenly turned and looked straight into his eyes.
    She yelled again—not with fear this time but with challenge.
    Suddenly, shockingly, he found himself looking down the barrel of her long rifle. Where did that come from?
    â€œCome out, you skulking scourge,” the hellion shouted at him.
    Slowly, with his hands raised in surrender, Samuel stepped out of the brush to find two more barrels pointing at him fromeither side. If one of them fired, they would shoot his head clean off.
    Samuel checked his irritation and controlled his facial expression.