Return of the Coyote (The Coyote Saga Book 2) by Schwab Ron

Author:Schwab, Ron [Schwab, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Poor Coyote Press
Published: 2017-03-14T04:00:00+00:00

21

Ethan leaned against a fallen trunk at the edge of the clearing, his legs stretched out in front of him. He decided there wasn't a muscle in his body that didn't ache, and his back and shoulders felt like they had been squeezed with a giant vise. He vowed he would have more empathy for his horse in the future.

The river crossing had been uneventful. Jeb had tossed a rope across the river and they had anchored it to sturdy trees on both sides. She-Bear had crossed first, wading through the current and grasping the rope as she followed it hand over hand to the opposite side. Jeb seemed to be watching her with more than casual interest and had stepped into the water unnecessarily, Ethan thought, to pull her up to the bank. With Ethan's help, and the rope as a stabilizer, Skye had struggled across the river, clutching the rope with her single hand while he anchored her narrow waist with his arm and held on to the rope with his free hand. It had been a clumsy journey, but they were greeted at the end by an excited Running Fox who raced to Skye, hugged her warmly, and then shifted to Ethan and threw his arms about his waist.

Jeb had shot a deer during Ethan's absence and they all ate heartily of venison strips Jeb roasted over the fire with She-Bear's help. The feisty Sioux woman also brewed up a concoction of deer fat and some chopped roots she had gathered from the surrounding woods with which she greased Skye's wounds and then applied to Badger Claw's scalp as well. Badger Claw had sat sullenly at the fire and eaten his share of the venison. He responded to questions asked by Skye and She-Bear in Sioux, but his responses seemed abrupt and brief. Ethan noted that Running Fox was listening attentively to the conversations among his tribesmen, and, a bit guiltily, he figured the boy would pass on any information Ethan should know.

The sun was starting to disappear over the mountain peaks, and he realized it was time for some decisions. They could not camp here indefinitely. He had hoped One Ball McLarty would have returned by now, but they should head out tomorrow morning regardless. They would follow the Powder River Trail, and, hopefully, the mountain man would intercept them before they found trouble. But he needed to talk to Skye. She seemed to be avoiding him ever since their return to the camp. And, perhaps not. He had learned quickly after their first meeting that predictability was not a Skye dePaul trait.

He heard someone moving in behind him, and he tossed a look over his shoulder. It was Skye, grasping a crudely-chopped walking stick for balance, walking unsteadily toward him. She sat down on the log that he was reclining against, her back toward him, which he thought strange.

"Thank you," she said, "for carrying me all those miles. For coming for us. I am sorry I attacked you with the knife.

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