“But what will the other Chochmi people think? A…a pale face woman staying with them.”
“They welcomed Henry Butterleigh after we found him wounded,” Hinto said. “They healed him, cared for him, until he was able to look after himself.”
“But I am not injured.” Alice’s nerves jangled. It was different meeting one Chochmi, or even a few. But lots? What if all the campfire stories were true? What if they were taking her back to the totem pole to stake her, burn her, then eat her in some kind of wild ghostly festival?
“Why are you scared?” Hinto asked.
“It’s just…well, it’s all so different, I suppose.”
Mahpee smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are brave, Brave Flower, that is why you have that name.”
She was glad he thought so, because right now she wasn’t feeling it.
“So find that courage,” he went on. “Pack up your things and come with us. We will protect you, I promise, and the Chochmi, the Elders, the braves, and the squaws will welcome you with open arms as our charge…as our woman.”
“Your woman?” Her attention went from Mahpee to Hinto, then the other tall man who was yet to speak but was rummaging around in the grass with his rather cute rear in the air. “What do you mean, your woman?”
“Exactly that,” Hinto directed at Mahpee. “Our woman.”
Mahpee frowned. “As in our responsibility. There will be times I need Hinto or Yas to care for you, Brave Flower.”
“I’m sure,” Alice said, “I’ll be able to…oh!”
A single bloody finger with a bitten dirty nail was shoved under her nose.
She recoiled, slipping from Mahpee’s embrace. “That…that’s disgusting.”
“That is an evil white man’s finger,” Hinto said, peering at it. “Cleanly cut just above the…” He tapped his knuckle.
“Knuckle,” she said for him.
The skin was ragged where the bullet had burst through it, the sickening points of jagged bone clear to see. Unattached, a finger was a weird thing, stubby, lifeless and grimy.
The huge Chochmi pointed at her, the dismembered digit, then swirled his finger in a circle.
“Yas says take it, it’s yours,” Mahpee said.
“What? No, I don’t want it.” She stared from the finger up at Yas. “Why would I want it?”
“A trophy,” Mahpee said before Yas could speak. “Like a scalp.”
“Oh, dear Lord above. A scalp! No, I really don’t want Old Conner’s finger.” She swallowed another rise of bile. “Get it away from me.” She nodded at the digit and clenched her fists. Shooting it off was one thing. Keeping the disgusting thing was a whole other kettle of fish.
“I guess that’s a no,” Hinto said with a shrug.
Yas released a small pouch hanging from his belt and dropped the finger inside. He tightened the drawstring.
“You’re…you’re going to keep it, there?” she asked him.
He moved his hand to his chest, pointed at the forest, and then swirled his fingers some more.
She frowned. “What…what does that mean?”
“He’ll keep it close because Old Conner will be back.” Hinto paused. “Yas doesn’t speak, Brave Flower. He never has.”
She hesitated. “Why not?”
“His grandfather didn’t, neither did his father. It is so more time can be spent on thoughts.” Hinto nodded at Yas. “Correct.”
Yas nodded.
“So he gives us words with his hands, signs,” Mahpee added.
She stared at the big, intimidating Indian. His eyes were intelligent, sharp, and his jawline square. His nose seemed as if it might have been broken once or twice; it had a bump and a slight bend on the bridge.
He was staring at her with seemingly as much curiosity as she had for him.
“How do you say hello, with hands?” she asked quietly.
“Like this.” Hinto pressed his palm to his chest and inclined his head a little.
“Ah, I see.” She copied, keeping her focus on Yas.
Suddenly his entire face changed—the stern line of his lips broke into a smile, and creases shot from the sides of his eyes toward his temples.
He copied the gesture, tapping his hand twice on his chest.
“That means he is very happy to have met you,” Mahpee explained.
“And I him…I mean you.” She paused. “Can he hear?”
Yas nodded and cupped his ear. He made a walking gesture with his fingers.
“He hears very well,” Hinto said. “A master at tracking and hunting because of his own lack of sound.”
“Oh, that’s…good.” She smiled.
It didn’t seem like she had much choice but to go with the three men to their camp. Staying here at the cabin would likely mean another encounter with Old Conner, or at least his cronies. Maybe she wouldn’t be so lucky to get a first shot next time. “I’ll collect my things.”
“We will help,” Hinto said. He strode to the riverbank and gathered her pan and the saddle blanket.
“Brave Flower.” Mahpee took her hand. “You did the right thing, to shoot, I promise you that.”
She squeezed his fingers and fought down the feeling of dread the memory of that moment brought. “I shot him because he was going to shoot you.”
Mahpee seemed to ponder on her words, then, “In that case, I am in debt to you, with my life.”
“No, no I didn’t mean that. There is no debt. I did it because I care about you…a lot.”
“As I care for you.” He ducked and pressed his lips to hers. “Not being with you,” he murmured, “is how the moon feels without the stars, a mountain without a valley, and a riverbed without water. I will not leave you again without being sure in my absence you have the protection of my spirit brothers Hinto and Yas. That was my mistake.”
“Old Conner’s nasty ways are no one’s mistake. He is a Godless man who now, I hope, will be less of a danger to others in at least one small way.” She wiggled her finger. “The trigger will not be so easy to pull now.”
Mahpee smiled.
Faith suddenly appeared at her side. Yas was holding her mane.
“Thank you, Yas.” She smiled and stroked Faith and spoke near her ear. “Sorry to scare you, my friend.”
Yas made a sign in the air.
“What is he saying?” she asked Mahpee.
“He says she is a fine mare, good stock.”
“I am lucky to have her, Yas, and thankful.”
He nodded. His face had returned to its serious, brooding expression. He had dark painted lines beneath his eyes, charcoal perhaps, and it made him all the more fierce when his smile was absent.
“Collect your bags,” Mahpee said. “We will leave soon.” He put his finger in his mouth and whistled.
As Alice grabbed her two saddlebags, water canteen, and rifle, Ouray and two other strong, tall horses appeared in the clearing. Ouray halted, proud neck arched and tail held high.
Faith whinnied and shook her head, clearly pleased at his arrival.
Yas fisted the mane of a large black-and-white horse and hurled himself on. The animal paced back then forth before standing squarely.