Another Chance (42 page)

Her quick move caused his lips to skim across her cheek
. Even their brief contact had scorched her skin, but she moved away, presenting as cold a facade as possible. Only to herself would she admit that his fleeting touch had filled her soul with longing.

             
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

She and Wolf walked toward the house. They kept as far away as possible without making their situation obvious to any casual observer. Sarah swallowed hard as Little Turtle ran up to them.

"Can we practice throwing our knives
, please?" he asked, looking directly at her.

The boy's request was a mixed blessing for
Sarah. She was pleased because it showed a softening in his attitude toward her, yet why now when Wolf's relationship with her had reached an impasse? Pushing this thought aside, for she refused to allow the child to suffer for a problem not of his making, she forced a light response, "Lead on."

"May I come, too?" Wolf asked
.

"If
Sarah doesn't mind," Little Turtle answered.

Ironic, the child and father had reversed roles
. The lad had accepted her, and the father had rebuffed her.
Although not technically true, his lack of commitment was tantamount to the same thing,
she thought. After briefly considering what she should say, Sarah replied, "Of course, he may join us."

Little Turtle returned to the spot by the creek where
Sarah had first seen him throwing his knife.

"Show me what to do," he said
.

Sarah
pulled her penknife from her pocket. "Unsheathe thy blade and hold it thus." She placed the knife on the palm of her hand. "Watch what I do." The penknife flipped over and the blade stuck into the dirt. Before Little Turtle could try, Sarah said, "Watch again. I will slow down the action." Picking up her knife, she said, "Never hurry." Again, she performed her trick. The blade landed in the slot she had carved into the ground only moments before.

"Wow!"

"Good throw," Wolf said.

"Care for a game?" she challenged
.

"Why not?" he replied
.

"I'll be the judge
." Little Turtle marked off a four-foot shape, looking more oval than round. Inside he drew two small ones. Next, he drew stick figures of animals and birds between the lines. "Sarah, you start."

"Since thy father understands the game, let him begin while thee explains the rules to me
."

"When it's your turn, stand where
No X'han
, my father,
is. You throw the knife so that it hits an animal."

"Like this," Wolf said, as he released his blade
.

"Wow!" shouted Little Turtle
. The tip and the top of the shaft stuck firmly in the earth.

"Do we aim for certain animals before others?"
Sarah asked.

"No, any figures in the outside ring will do
. Next the middle, and last the inside circle," Wolf explained, pulling his knife from the dirt.

"Is it my turn?" she asked
.

"
No X'han
throws until he misses," Little Turtle said.

"I'll watch,"
Sarah said. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back and rested her back against the nearest tree. She watched the two of them with mixed feelings. They could be her family, if Wolf loved her and if she stayed. Would she return to her own century? Without Wolf's love, she had no reason to remain. The life of a woman raised in the traditions of the Quakers during the 18th century no longer held any illusions for her. The restrictions imposed upon these women grated on Sarah. She could never change them, nor could she ever cheerfully follow them. Since that was the case, little reason remained for her to stay. Still her heart ached at the idea of leaving Wolf and his people.

"Only two to go and you missed,
No X'han
," Little Turtle shouted, breaking into Sarah's thoughts. "It's your turn." He glanced at her, his face bright with anticipation.

"My turn?" she asked, still trying to get her bearings
.

Wolf bowed
.

Nodding her head in his direction,
Sarah took his place. With easy, yet cautious moves, she completed the first two circles. She analyzed the center section, where Wolf had missed. "May I have a practice shot?"

"No," said Little Turtle
. 

Wolf shrugged
. "It's his game."

"All right," she sighed
. With great care and concentration, she hit the animal squarely in the middle.

"Wow!" the boy shouted
. "Only the bird to go."

"Don't make me nervous," she scolded gently
. As she released the knife, a mocking bird called. The blade missed the drawing by less than a half an inch. "Dang!"

"My turn," Wolf said
. He struck the stick figure squarely in the center. "Would you care to continue the game?"

"Why not?" she replied, wanting to win and beat him
.

"Can you throw your penknife as well as flip it?" he asked
.

She tossed it lightly in her hand
. "Yep!"

Wolf glanced around
. "See that burl on the maple tree?"

"That knob about head high?" she asked
.

He nodded
. "The blade must stick in the hole in the center."

"Where do we stand?"

"Back here," said Little Turtle as he moved to the far end of the clearing.

"That's about fifty feet," she said, unsure whether she could reach her goal from this distance
.

"Yep!" Wolf repeated her word and smiled
.

She laughed
. "Thee first."

"Oh, no
, ladies before gentlemen." He bowed with a flourish.

Sarah
walked next to the boy. "Right here?" she asked.

He nodded
.

"Here goes
." She took a deep breath and released the knife. Thud. "I did it!" she shouted, jumping up and down. Sarah grabbed Little Turtle's hands and spun around. "I won!"

"Ahem
. I have a turn," Wolf said, as he approached.

"Oh
. Of course. Let me fetch my penknife." After securing her knife, she stepped behind the lad and watched.

With very little preparation time, Wolf threw his blade
. It sank into the very spot vacated by Sarah's knife.

"Wow!
It's a tie."

"Shall we proceed?" Wolf asked
.

"No
. I admit that thee is just as good as I am."

Wolf grabbed her around the waist and swung her
. "As good? I'm better."

His arms felt wonderful around her, and for a moment she hoped he returned her love
. Until he declared himself, allowing his embrace to continue accomplished nothing but hurt for Sarah. She eased out of his arms. "Who missed first?" she asked, stepping away.

"Yeah,
No X'han
?" Little Turtle said, defending her.

Sarah
squeezed the boy, grateful that at least this relationship was going well. "My champion."

He beamed
.

After retrieving his blade, Wolf said, "If you have had enough lessons for one day, Little Turtle, you should stay and practice
."

Wanting to separate herself from Wolf,
Sarah said, "If thee has a problem or a question, I will remain with thee and help."

The child shook his head
. "Maybe tomorrow." Little Turtle juggled his knife in his hand preparing for his next shot.

Unable to push their delicate relationship,
Sarah said, "Take thy time, practice, and thee will learn."

He flicked the knife
. The tip of the blade stuck and held.

"Bravo!"
Sarah said.

Little Turtle smiled at her
.

"Good job, son
." Wolf added.

Sarah
started to walk away.

"Shall we return to the house?" he asked
. "Or mayhap, we could visit grandfather's cabin."

Her heart filled with tears
. "I cannot do that. As I have told thee, when the corporal is found and taken prisoner, I will return to Benjamin."
If I make love to thee again, my resolve might weaken and that must not happen.

Leaving him on the trail,
Sarah ran ahead. Realizing there was nothing for her to do at the house, she decided to visit Quick Rabbit and see how her new friend fared.

She saw the woman sitting on her step, but saw no signs of Long Knife
. The angle of her approach prevented Sarah from seeing Quick Rabbit's face.
Had their reunion been successful?  If so, where was the lad?
With her steps heavy from worry and concern, Sarah hurried toward the cabin.

Quick Rabbit glanced up
. A tranquil expression filled her face.

Sarah
sighed with relief. "Where is thy son?"

"Gone
." A small cloud whisked over the Lenape's face. "Back to camp."

Looking intensely at Quick Rabbit,
Sarah saw no distress. Did his mother believe he was still off hunting? Had he told her the truth? Sarah decided not to ask. "May I join thee?"

Quick Rabbit nodded and inched over
.

Before she sat,
Sarah glanced at the yard. The mild weather had lengthened the growing season, and many herbs waited to be harvested. Needing some type of activity, she asked, "May I work in thy garden?"

"We do together
."

Sarah
chose the left side and Quick Rabbit began on the right. For many minutes, they worked quietly. As Sarah pulled the basil from the dry soil, thoughts of Wolf and his behavior ricocheted in her head. Perhaps if she knew more about his earlier life or his wife, she would understand his reluctance to love. Could Quick Rabbit share this information?  Did she dare ask?

Shaking the dirt from the roots,
Sarah gathered her nerve and asked, "How long has Wolf's wife been gone?"

Only silence greeted her question
. From the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Quick Rabbit sit back on her heels. Her gaze apparently focused on the wooden wall of the cabin.
So much for information,
Sarah thought and returned to work, but with less enthusiasm.

"Five winters
."

Whipping her head around,
Sarah asked, "She's been dead five years? Opps, sorry, with the stars?"

Quick Rabbit nodded
.

"She did not grow up in the village, did she?"
Sarah asked wanting to confirm what Bowl Woman had told her and hoping to ease Quick Rabbit into telling more.

With short, fleeting sentences, Quick Rabbit told about the massacre
. The story matched what Sarah knew. "Only she survived. Wolf married her one moon later."

"To wed so soon after they met, he must have fallen in love with her very quickly
."

"Love is not the only reason our people marry
."

Sarah
realized she must have spoken her thoughts aloud.

"We must wed outside our clan
. With fewer Lenape, we have less choice." She pulled out a clump of green onions.

Unable to think of a way to ask if Wolf had grown to love her,
Sarah returned to collecting the plants. While she worked, she sought to discover the right words or find an opening to push for additional information.

"Quick Rabbit
."

Both women turned to look
.

Jeremiah strode toward them
. As he drew closer, Quick Rabbit's body tensed.

Jumping to her feet,
Sarah moved to intercept his advance. She held out her arms, as if in greeting, yet forcing him to stop. He grasped both her hands, but a puzzled look covered his face.

Quick Rabbit huddled on the ground, her back bowed, and her head tucked between her shoulder blades
.

Sarah
's soul ached for the poor woman, as her heart hardened toward the British corporal who had caused the destruction. With difficulty, she restrained her impulse to cradle the paralyzed woman in her arms. Instead, she maintained her guard, keeping herself between the visitor and the petrified Lenape.

"Ahhh, good to see you
Sarah. You, too, Quick Rabbit." Jeremiah leaned to the right so he might see the other woman, but did not try to decrease the distance.