Apache Protectors: Running Wolf Part 10

He shrugged. "I like them all."

Crazy Riding turned to Big Thunder. "You?"

Big Thunder's expression was serious but he gave his head a shake.

Crazy Riding now turned his attention to Running Wolf. "My mother says that my uncle heard Iron Bear ask you to court Spotted Fawn."

Running Wolf sighed.

Big Thunder stiffened and his frown grew deeper.

Running Wolf did not like being gossiped about, and he didn't like being told who to court. Actually, until a certain raven had swept into his life, he would have been happy to court Spotted Fawn.

"She is young yet," he said. He thought she was six winters younger. He recalled going on his vision quest when she was still playing with a stuffed leather bear.

Big Thunder nodded his agreement but did not speak. His silence on this topic troubled Running Wolf. His friend usually had opinions on such things.

Crazy Riding said, "You have enough horses, more now with the raid. The buffalo skins for a lodge you could take in one good hunt." Their chief had been generous, giving him five new horses and the captive he had taken, whom he'd immediately given to his mother.

The women of the tribe called him a good son. He wasn't. He was burning with l.u.s.t for Snow Raven and he was doing all he could to hide his feelings from the others while keeping her from being a common woman. What would Spotted Fawn do if he married her and kept Snow Raven as his own?

Some women would welcome the help of a servant, but no wife wanted to be second favorite behind an enemy captive. Running Wolf knew that, if he took that path, sooner or later Spotted Fawn would hate Snow Raven.

He could not have them both.

Weasel laughed. "If you think she is too young, then wait. But if just the thought of her does that-" he pointed to the bulge in Running Wolf's loincloth "-then you should go see Mouse."

Big Thunder took his leave at this point without another word.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Crazy Riding.

Running Wolf shook his head in confusion as he watched his friend retreat up the riverbank.

"Maybe he likes Mouse," said Weasel.

"Don't be stupid. She's an enemy," said Crazy Riding.

Weasel nodded. "She's pretty, though."

"Skinny, you mean. All bones now. Besides, no Sioux warrior would ever demean himself by choosing a Crow for a wife," said Crazy Riding.

"But he doesn't mind sleeping with her."

"That's different," insisted Crazy Riding. "Every man has needs. Right, Running Wolf?"

"Turtle Rattler has a captive," he pointed out.

"She keeps his lodge. He's too old for that, isn't he? And too smart to have children that are half-Crow."

A call came from the village and a boy ran to the men bathing in the river.

"The scouts are back. They found buffalo."

A cry of excitement broke into the air. The buffalo had been acting differently now that the white man's wagons had made a track across the plains. It made everyone nervous. But their scouts had found them.

Running Wolf walked quickly through the village to find the women already breaking down the lodges in preparation to follow the herd.

Running Wolf was considering which of his hunting horses he would pick. Lately he had been riding Snow Raven's gray horse, Song. The mare was smart, fast and very quiet. He had decided this was his new favorite deer-hunting horse. He tried not to think of the real reason that he preferred this mare-imagining Snow Raven as he had first seen her.

Big Thunder appeared beside him. They both listened to the scouts as they relayed the position and size of the herd. Running Wolf grinned, knowing that Big Thunder enjoyed buffalo hunts best. But Big Thunder just stared at him as if suffering a toothache.

"Will you ride with me?" asked Running Wolf. It was an unspoken promise that they always rode together. But it was still polite to ask.

"I don't know."

Now Running Wolf was frowning. "What is the matter with you?"

"Are you courting Spotted Fawn?"

Running Wolf's eyes widened as he recognized the look in Big Thunder's eyes. It was how he felt much of the time since Snow Raven had appeared. Suddenly Big Thunder's abrupt departure from the river made perfect sense.

"You want that one? I have never even seen you speak to her."

"Our chief has asked you to court her."

"He just wants to see her wed before he takes the Ghost Road."

"But he did not ask me. He asked you."

Before Running Wolf could address this, someone slipped beside him and clasped his arm.

He stared down to find Spotted Fawn mooning up at him. He grimaced. What terrible timing. He glanced to Big Thunder and the two exchanged a look-Running Wolf's apologetic and his friend's defeated.

Spotted Fawn tugged at him, demanding his attention in the way of children.

"A hunt," squeaked Spotted Fawn. Her head did not reach past his shoulder, and her voice was high and unappealing. What did Big Thunder see in her?

She smiled, and he thought she was pretty and had straight teeth. But having her grip his arm only made him want to shake her off. She stuck to him like a burr.

"I will help your mother skin any buffalo you take. You will need them for a lodge. And you have many horses, and my father said you could trade some of those for wool blankets and beads to please his new wife."

She was listing her bridal sum, he realized. He glanced about for Big Thunder only to find he had vanished.

He put his free hand on Spotted Fawn's shoulder to stop her restless bouncing. She stilled and blinked up at him, smiling as if she were already a bride. Running Wolf s.h.i.+vered.

"Where is your s.h.i.+rt?" she said, running her hand over the dimpled skin of his chest.

He forced himself not to recoil. This was not going to work.

"You know my friend Big Thunder?"

Spotted Fawn made a face, and Running Wolf's spirits dropped even farther.

"What about him?"

"What do you think of him?"

"What do I think? I think he hates me."

"What?"

"Well, he never speaks to me, and when I try to talk to him he runs away."

"Perhaps he is just shy?"

"He has no trouble speaking to the council."

"Speaking to a woman requires a different kind of courage."

Spotted Fawn's hand paused and then slid away from his skin. He found he could breathe easier.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I just..." Yes, why was he?

"I thought you were courting me." One hand lifted to her hip. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No!" Was he? He must be the biggest fool ever born. If he married this woman, he would surely be the chief's favorite. Gaining his support would go a long way toward winning the votes of the council of elders.

"Why are we talking about him, then?"

"Well, he is my best friend, and I want you to be nice to him."

Her protruding lip vanished and she brightened again.

"I can do that."

"And I will ask him to try to speak to you."

She grabbed his arm again. "Yes. I will do all I can to be friends with your friends. Even Weasel. And you must be kind to Pretty Thrush and Lighting b.u.t.terfly."

Running Wolf groaned inwardly but managed to nod. "Of course."

Pretty Thrush was only thirteen and Lighting b.u.t.terfly was only one winter older. All were more girls than women. He did not care what her mother said and what ceremony she had completed. He would not be shocked to learn she sucked her thumb at night.

Whereas Snow Raven was lush and lithe and completely self-possessed. She did not cling or fawn. Well, she had clung last night, but that was the right kind of clinging. And she was strong and brave and rode like a warrior. He wondered if she had ever taken down a buffalo.

Spotted Fawn now jabbered like a mockingbird about the color of the dress she was making for herself and how she would decorate it with elk teeth if he would bring her some. Running Wolf scanned faces, looking for Snow Raven. Was she tearing down his mother's lodge?

"I have to get ready to travel," he said by way of an excuse to Spotted Fawn, and saw that pink lower lip once more stick out in a very unappealing pout. "I will see what I can do about the elk teeth."

Her smile was back and he was away from her, thank the Great Spirit.

Before the sun had reached its apex the tribe was packed. The horses that were not needed to carry or pull would follow along. No halters were necessary. Their instinct kept them with the herd, and so they followed wherever the others went.

Running Wolf had selected his packhorses but he subst.i.tuted the usual brown horse with white socks for her gray mare. His mother lifted a brow, but the horses were his. Women did not own them. Her mother ordered Snow Raven about. It was clear that, though she could ride a horse, she was not accustomed to packing one.

"Did you not pack your family's lodge?" he asked.

"My grandmother needed no help. In fact, she insisted on doing this herself."

"What did you do?"

"I gathered my horses and weapons."

"You have horses?"

"No. I had them."

"How many?"

"Seven."

Seven horses! That was enough for a bridal payment. What would her family expect a groom to give if she already had seven horses? And why was he even thinking of this? Now he was thinking something else. Who gave her these horses?

"Gifts from your sweetheart?"

"I caught them myself, except one, the foal of my chestnut mare, Drum."

"So you can ride and hunt and catch horses?"

"Yes. And now I can also wrestle." She smiled.

"Crow women are unnatural," said his mother, tying another bundle onto the gray mare. Then she retreated to the diminis.h.i.+ng pile of their belongings.

Running Wolf stepped closer to Snow Raven and rested a hand over the one she had on the crosspiece of the packsaddle. Her gaze lifted to his.

"One day I will take you hunting for elk."

Her eyes flashed with excitement. It was the first time that his words had made her look truly animated since her arrival and the sight filled him with gladness.

"I can track for you."

He did not say that he could track quite nicely for himself. He was too happy seeing her pleasure. "Have you ever taken an elk?"

"I have. I sewed the teeth onto my hunting s.h.i.+rt."

He remembered now. He also remembered the women tearing that beautiful s.h.i.+rt from her body. He understood all the strands of hair she had tied to the front now, as well.