Quicksilver Passion (201 page)

She stood up slowly. Always, her mother had told her she was worthless without her beauty and yet tonight she knew she wasn’t. She had saved a child’s life and a man loved her, no matter how scarred she was. Silver turned and looked toward the east. Somewhere out there, Cherokee and the man she feared might already be in a life-and-death battle.

Suppose Cherokee lost? She shuddered at the thought. In that case, Silver might be riding right into Dallinger’s clutches and she was so afraid of him. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she be at Cherokee’s side, whatever happened—if he still wanted her.

Keso, saddle me the Duchess’s horse and be quick about it!”

His dark eyes lit up with a grin.
Yes ma’am!”

She took Waanibe’s hand and went into the barn as the Indian boy ran to do her bidding. Silver wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do, but one thing was certain: if she could overtake Cherokee, she would make sure that he knew she did love him and the rest was up to him.

Waanibe clung to her hand in the darkness of the barn.
I got a treasure to put in your pocket, Silvery.”

Sure, dear, sure.” She patted the dark head with her free hand absently. Later she would tell Waanibe about her mother and play games with her, but now she had no time for all that.

Keso led the saddled horse out.
Here you are, miss. If you find him, are you coming back?”

Whatever he wants to do, I’ll do.” She paused, trying to decide what to do about Waanibe. What if she left her here and someone took charge of her and turned her over to an orphanage? She might leave her with Keso, but he was just a boy himself. He couldn’t stop grown-ups if they decided to take custody of the Duchess’s child.

She grabbed Waanibe’s waist and lifted her up on the horse, thinking how tall and heavy the child was becoming. Then she swung up on the horse herself, awkward in the billowing skirt.
Which way did he go?”

Keso pointed.
Out the Cherry Creek Road. This is a thoroughbred, miss, faster than any horse in town. If you ride like the wind, you might catch him. And when you do . . .”

Yes?” She looked down on him, feeling Wannie’s two little arms about her waist.

He looked up at her wistfully a long moment.
Tell him I wish him luck.”

Silver nodded and put her heels to the startled thoroughbred. Its long legs spread out and it took off at a ground-eating gallop.

Cherokee had taken off after Jake Dallinger in a rush, but then slowed his horse as he checked the scout’s tracks in the moonlight and realized Dallinger was riding east at a more leisurely pace. Perhaps he knew a shortcut somewhere up ahead or, thinking he had plenty of time, didn’t want to tire his horse.

At the Four Mile House, the stage stop four miles east of Denver, Cherokee stopped and inquired. Yes, a big, bearded man had stopped for whiskey and food less than an hour ago. Cherokee felt chilled and the whiskey looked so good, he could almost taste it. But he turned his back with determination and mounted his horse.

After that, Cherokee proceeded along the trail with caution. It was one thing to have Jake Dallinger in broad daylight on a flat plain up ahead of him, it was quite another to be riding through brush along the creek in the dark, with a shrewd, trail-wise scout ahead of him. Jake was smart enough to ambush him if the scout should realize he was being trailed.

For reassurance, Cherokee felt the butt of his pistol and wished he had a saddle gun. A man armed with a pistol was at a distinct disadvantage if he came up against an hombre armed with a rifle, and one of the things Doc had said was that Jake was carrying a Sharps rifle.

The moonlight threw grotesque shadows along the trail. Cherokee listened intently to the noises of the cold night, the Indian ways of his grandmother coming back to him with a rush. Somewhere in the stunted trees along the river, an
u-gu-gu
, an owl, hooted and the hair rose up on the back of Cherokee’s neck. In almost all the tribes, an owl hooting at night foretold death.
The question was: whose?

It didn’t matter; he couldn’t turn back. He had sworn vengeance for the murder of his two old partners, and given Iron Knife his word that he would do whatever he could to help the Cheyenne should he ever have the chance. This was the chance and Cherokee always kept his word.