Gray Skies

North Carolina 1851

Deep in the mountains of North Carolina lives a branch of the Cherokee nation that no white man had been able to remove. They could come and go like the wind. They were rumored to be ghosts and called the ‘Ghost Tribe’ by those that knew of them.  They were feared by all who lived in those mountainous lands except for one.

Deniah Williams is the one person who does not fear them. And her reason? Gray Skies.  He saved her life as children and has been her friend since that day. She knows there is something unique about her friend and his people and yet she asks no questions.  She has trust in him and for her that’s enough.

But when Deniah’s father learns of her friendship with a monstrous savage of the ghost tribe he is determined to protect her. And he knows just how to do so. He must find her a suitable husband and move his daughter to the northeast and away from the danger he is sure she faces. But things do not go as planned.

When Gray Skies learns of the danger that Deniah faces he knows he must save her. Going against the wishes of his tribe, Gray Skies leaves to rescue the woman who has his heart.

A fiery passion ignites between them and a love stronger than any love before ties their souls together. But hatred and revenge threaten to tear them apart. Join Gray Skies and Deniah as they fight for their love, for each other and for peace among their people.

Prologue: Saved By A Ghost

Prologue: Saved By A Ghost

                Eight year old Deniah did not want to admit fear. Her brother had dared her to go into the woods and touch The Witching Tree. To make the dare a bit more daunting he had insisted she slip out of the house while their parents slept and make her way to the dead, hollow tree in the dark.

                Rumor had it that The Witching Tree was where an evil witch had been hanged nearly two hundred years before and her ghost still haunted the massive oak.

                Deniah knew the tree was only a few hundred yards from her home and yet she had still not come across it and had been walking for what seemed like hours. It was time to admit the truth—she was lost.

                She was an eight year old, lost in the woods at night, all alone and without a light or anyway to protect herself. The hoot of an owl sent shivers down her spine and when the bushes rustled beside her she cried out with fear and tripped over a tree root.

                Falling face down in the leave and grass on the forest floor, Deniah was too frightened to stand back up. She curled up into a ball and sobbed in the darkness.

                Crickets chirped, the owl continued hooting and coyotes yipped in the distance. More movement rustled in the bushes and dry leaves all around her. She shivered, certain that at any moment a monster was going to leap from the darkness and fall upon her. She never should have listened to Matthew. She never should have allowed him to dare her into coming into the woods at night.

                After several long moments of tears, Deniah pushed herself back up to her feet and swiped at her wet cheeks. She was brave. She was going to figure out where she was and find her way back home. She heard the sound of running water and headed toward it, knowing that a river ran behind her family’s cabin.

                She stumbled through the darkness, jumping at every noise and running into bushes, trees and rocks as she went. Her night dress caught on brambles and she could hear the fabric tearing. Her mama would no doubt whoop her soundly for destroying her night clothes.

                There was a full moon but with the thick canopy of trees above her there was very little light making its way through to illuminate Deniah’s way.

                She nearly cried out with relief when she saw the moonlight glinting off the moving water of the river. She had made it to the water. Now she simply had to follow it downstream and it should bring her back to her house.

                Deniah walked along the edge of the bank. The raging water was roaring past her. The river was swollen and swift due to the torrents of rain that had fallen for the last two days.

                Feeling more confident now that she had an idea of where she was heading, Deniah hastened her pace. The darkness and the leaves, hid the tiny boulder from her view until her foot struck against it and she was sent tumbling over the edge of the bank and into the angry waves.

                Deniah struggled to keep her head above the waves yet with the current ripping at her body and tugging her under it was nearly impossible. Deniah could not swim even in the best of conditions and these conditions were far from ideal.

                She was tugged under again and again. She came up sputtering and tried to suck in breath of air only to get a mouthful of water.

                Coughing, Deniah went below the surface once again. Her head swam, her lungs burned. She was tossed against rocks on the river bottom and pain wracked her tiny body.

                She fought to stay awake but it was no use and she was quickly swallowed by darkness.

---

                “Wake up, girl.” An unfamiliar voice broke through Deniah’s dreams of chasing butterflies through the open field with her brother. It had been a dream of years ago before Matthew had gotten too old for playing such foolish games with his sister.

                “You must awaken.” The voice urged. It was the voice of a boy and he spoke with an exotic accent that Deniah couldn’t place. It wasn’t French such as the bread maker in town and neither was it German like the butcher.

                Deniah realized she was lying down and she tried to sit up only to cry out when pain tore at her side. “Careful.” The voice warned. “You hit the rocks when the waves took you under.  I am sure you are bruised.”

                Deniah’s eyelids fluttered open and she saw the boy. He had a small lantern in his hand as he sat on his heels and watched her.

                He was wearing only a pair of buckskin pants. His skin was dark, his hair as black as night and long around his face, though it was held back by a red headband. From the look of him he was a few years older than Deniah, somewhere around Matthew’s age. She looked into his eyes which were the color of the coffee her father drank every morning and it was with fear that she realized what he was.

                “You’re an Indian!” she exclaimed, trying to scoot away, though finding it difficult with the pain she was in. Her clothes and hair were wet and clinging to her. Her lungs were still aching and her throat was raw. How had she gotten out of the river?      

                “Yes.” He replied simply, his head cocking to the side as he studied her.

                “Are you going to hurt me?” Deniah asked shakily. She was terrified of Indians because of her father’s stories about them. Most now called the reservations home and were kept under supervision. In the wild they were dangerous. They were barely more than animals—or at least that’s what her father and mother had always told her.

                This boy didn’t seem much like an animal… nor did he seem dangerous.

                He shook his head, seeming irritated by her question. “No.”

                “How did I get out of the river?” Deniah asked, glancing at the rushing water behind her.

                “I pulled you out.”

                Deniah stared at him with shock. “You saved my life!”

                “Yes. Now you must get home. Do you live in the cabin close to here?”

                “Yes—at least I think so.”

                The Indian stood straight and held out a hand. Deniah only hesitated a moment before taking his hand and allowing him to help her stand. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out with pain once again.

                She was thankful it was summer and the night was hot as it kept her from getting too cold with her soaked nightdress and hair.

                She limped along beside the Indian as he guided her through the woods without a word. Her families cabin came into view and Deniah was surprised when the boy stopped.

                “This is as far as I go.” He stated. “You can find your way from here I trust?”

                Deniah could hear the teasing tone in his voice and she looked at him to see a smile tugging at his mouth. “Yes.” She assured him. “Thank you for saving me.”

                “Stay away from the river at night, girl.”

                He handed her the lantern before turning and heading off into the night. “Wait!” Deniah called out and he stopped in his tracks.

                He turned to face her and watched her expectantly, obviously waiting for her to speak. “My name is Deniah.”  He simply nodded. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Deniah questioned, wrapping one arm around herself and gripping her bruised side gingerly.

                “What?” he questioned.

                “What is your name?” Deniah asked, wondering if the boy was really this thick headed or simply teasing her the way her brother often did.

                He gave her another smile, this one causing her to blush. He was certainly a handsome Indian boy. “Gray Skies.” He replied with a tip of his head, causing his wet, dark hair to fall forward. “No more nighttime trips into the forest, Deniah. I may not be around to save you next time.”

                With that, he slipped into the shadows and was gone. Deniah wanted to chase after him and thank him again, maybe even encourage him to come in and meet her family but her father called out from the porch.

                “Deniah, is that you?!”

                “Yes, papa, it’s me.” Deniah replied, limping forward.

                She saw her brother standing in the corner of the porch, rubbing at his backside. Her father still held his leather strap in his hands making it clear her brother had received a sound whooping; probably for encouraging his young sister to go into the woods at night.

                Her father rushed off the porch and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

                “What happened to you?” her mother declared breathlessly as she ran her hands over Deniah’s body, clearly checking for wounds.

                Deniah winced when her mother touched her tender side. “I went for a walk and I got lost.” Deniah replied quietly. “I fell in the river.”

                “Dear God!” her father exclaimed.

                “The river! But it’s raging! How on earth did you get out?” her mother asked, her eyes filling with tears.

                Her father carried Deniah inside and sat her beside the roaring fire. “A boy saved me.”

                “A boy?” her mother asked with a frown.

                “Yes.” Deniah nodded. She glanced at Matthew and hoped her brother wouldn’t be mad at her over the whooping he’d received. He merely gave her a small smile and relief filled her chest. “It was an Indian boy.”

                “There are no Indians here.” Her papa stated firmly.

                “That’s not true, papa.” Matthew spoke up. “There’s ghosts.”

                At those words Deniah’s mama began speaking swiftly under her breath, saying something about dry night clothes and a comb. Her papa sent Matthew a look that had the boy fleeing up the ladder into the loft where he slept.

                Deniah was surprised when her papa grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “You do not go into those woods alone at night again, girl, you hear me?”

                “Yes, papa.” Deniah replied, tears filling her eyes. She hated disappointing her family. “Papa, he wasn’t a ghost. He was alive. He saved me.”

                Anger and fear flashed in her papa’s eyes and it scared Deniah to see the toughest man she knew appear so shaken. “You just mind me, Deniah. No more woods at night and no more talking to savages; be they alive or dead.”

                “Yes, sir.” Deniah whispered.

                As she fell asleep in her bed on the other side of the loft from Matthew nearly an hour later, Deniah could not keep her mind off the quiet, kind, handsome Indian boy who had saved her life. She wanted to see him again.

                Her father might have said she could not talk to savages but as far as Deniah could tell, Gray Skies was no savage.

Chapter One: The Strangeness of Crows

Chapter One: The Strangeness of Crows

Eight Years Later

April 1851

                Deniah rushed to finish her chores in the early morning light. Mist was hanging low over the mountains and the heavy dew in the grass had the bottom of her skirts thoroughly soaked. Thankfully her papa and Matthew had taken the three hour trip to town and so she was alone at the cabin for the day; having lost her mother to fever six long years before. There would be no one to question her rush or her sudden urge to take a walk in the forest.

                Deniah had many small things to complete before she slipped into the woods to meet with Gray Skies. Her body was humming with excitement as she gathered the eggs from the chicken coop and dropped them into her hand-woven basket.

                It had been three long weeks since she had seen her dearest friend and she missed him terribly. She had awaken that morning and immediately dashed outside to check under the tiny rock beside the barn where Gray often left her messages. She had not received any from him for weeks and had been growing more worried with each passing sunset but finally a message had arrived! And to make the discovery even better was to read that he would be waiting for her at The Witching Tree at mid-morning!

                Deniah took the eggs for the day into the tiny three room cabin she shared with her father and brother. She laid her basket on the counter and tied back the plaid curtains on the kitchen window to allow a bit of the early morning sunlight, just burning through the fog, to come into the cabin.

                She swept all the dirt from the floor and climbed up into the loft to make her brother’s bed. Even at twenty years old, Matthew had trouble remembering to do even the simplest of chores around the house. Deniah didn’t mind however; as the woman of the house it was her job to keep things running smoothly and looking neat and she was happy to do it.

                With the sweeping done, Deniah focused her attention on readying a pie to bake for her brother and father for dessert that night. They would be tired when they returned home that evening after meeting with the tobacco buyer. Hopefully the man would give them good news about prices for the harvesting in the coming fall. While their family didn’t have huge fields, what little tobacco they did manage to grow and sell provided much of their income for the year.

                Blowing out a breath, Deniah glanced impatiently at the clock. Never had she noticed just how long her simple chores took to accomplish. Of course that was probably simply because she had never been so long without seeing Gray Skies and she missed him terribly.

                She began to pack them a picnic of leftover chicken and bread from the night before and thought about her best friend.

                After Gray Skies had saved her from the river all those years ago, Deniah had continued to sneak out as often as she could in hopes of seeing the Indian boy. She never knew what time she’d be able to get away and was surprised more than a few times when he just so happened to be waiting for her.

                When she would ask him how he’d known she was coming he would simply smile and say that he had not and that their meetings were purely coincidence.

                Gray Skies had been uneasy one night about five years ago when he’d found her wandering around The Witching Tree  and he had let her know that she could no longer wander about the woods in hopes he would show up. Instead he told her that he would leave her messages under the rock beside the barn on days he could come.

                Deniah had not asked how he knew about the rock. She had learned by then that her friend often knew things that he shouldn’t; such as when her mother had died.

                Deniah had been ten when the fever had come raging into their home and taken her mother away. After she was buried, John, Deniah’s father, had locked himself in his room. Unwilling, or unable, to be there for his children. Fourteen year old Matthew had become angry, saddled a horse and headed off for town. Ten year old Deniah had been all alone.

                Tears had been slipping down her cheeks as she’d pulled her warm knitted wrap around herself and walked onto the porch. Night had been falling and the fall air had been cool as the wind had blown against her skin.

                Then Deniah had seen the bird. It was a crow and it had been standing in the yard, staring at her so intensely that shivers washed down her spine. Instead of being afraid, Deniah had been intrigued. She’d walked down the porch steps, cooing gently to the creature, wondering just how close it would allow her to get.

                She’d nearly cried out with displeasure when the bird had taken flight and flown toward the woods. Then confusion filled her when it landed at the edge of the trees and watched her, as if waiting. As soon as Deniah drew close the crow repeated the action. Several times they had gone through this dance, leading them deeper and deeper into the forest. Then suddenly the crow had cawed loudly and flown out of sight.

                Deniah watched where the air where bird had disappeared into the forest for several long seconds. Feeling more alone than ever before, Deniah had pulled her wrap tighter around her tiny shoulders and burst into fresh tears and sobs.

                She’d been so caught up in her sorrow that she hadn’t heard the footsteps coming behind her. Two lean arms had wrapped tight around her and she’d been pulled back against a chest. Primal fear filled her and she nearly let out a scream before a hand clamed over her mouth.

                “I did not mean to startle you.”

                At the sound of Gray Skies voice, Deniah had cried harder, turned in his arms and buried herself against his buckskin clad chest. “She’s gone.. My mama’s gone…” she’d sobbed.

                All the while Gray Skies had held her patiently while stroking her hair.

                Deniah smiled as she found herself back in her kitchen with their picnic packed. Gray Skies had always been there anytime she’d needed him. She had asked him that night why he’d been there that night and he had simply shrugged his shoulders (so strong for a boy of fourteen) and stated that he had dreamt she would need him.

                Deniah checked the clock beside the door and realized it was nearly ten. No doubt, Gray Skies was already waiting for her!

                She grabbed the tiny basket of food and headed out the door, closing it behind her. She heard the cawing of a crow as she stepped of the porch and looked toward the barn to see it watching her. As soon as she looked its way, the creature spread its wings and flew away.

                Deniah shook her head. It was her experience that the crows around here very queer creatures indeed.

Chapter Two: Chaperoned By An Owl

Chapter Two: Chaperoned By An Owl  

                Gray Skies paced the forest floor as he waited for Deniah beside The Witching Tree. The woman was never on time. She tried to do too much and it always stole all the minutes in a day that she should be spending on herself and relaxation.

                He heard the hoot of an owl in the distance and knew it was a warning. Many were angry that he dared continue to see the white woman with hair like fire. He wished they could understand that every beat of his heart called out her name, then they would see that he had no choice.

                A flash of red caught Gray Skies attention and he ceased his pacing and felt his breath catch when she came into sight.

                He had seen many beautiful things in this world but Deniah was the single most breathtaking things that the Great Spirit had ever created. She had pale freckle-dotted skin, soft gray eyes and full pink lips. Her hair was the color of flames—all red and orange with streaks of gold that caught the sunlight. She had a soft body, full chest and rounded hips that made his hands itch with the need to touch her and his arms yearn to hold her close.

                The owl hooted again and Gray Skies took a deep breath to reign in his emotions. A life with Deniah by his side was a life that could not happen. His people, and hers, would not allow it.

                When her gray eyes saw him standing there her entire face lit up with her smile. “I’m sorry I’m late!” she exclaimed apologetically. She held up the basket, hooked in the crook of her arm. “I wanted to bring you something to eat.”

                “Chicken?” Gray Skies questioned hopefully. Chicken was his favorite, but of course Deniah knew that.

                “Yes. Why don’t we walk to the river? It seems a much better place to have our picnic.” She offered.

                The owl hooted once more and Gray Skies whipped his head around, glaring at the bird he could see sitting on a branch in the distance. Gray Skies hoped the threat in his eyes would be easy enough to read and slowly the owl unfurled its wings and took flight, disappearing into the thick forest.

                “Odd seeing an owl out and about this time of day.” Deniah mused. “The birds around here are full of surprises.”

                “Have you seen your crow again?” Gray Skies asked with amusement as he held out his arm and Deniah looped hers through it.

                They started the walk to the river and Deniah blushed and pushed her red hair behind her ear. She had worn it down today with only a few tiny pins holding it away from her face. Gray Skies loved when her hair was free and yet he hated it as well. He wanted to touch it desperately and could rarely find a good enough excuse to act on that urge.

                “It is not my crow.” Deniah whispered with embarrassment. “I cannot even be certain it is the same crow. I’ve been seeing the bird for years. How long do crows live?”

                “I am not certain.” Gray Skies replied, a smile playing on his lips. He never smiled unless he was with Deniah. Only she could bring out the lighter side of him. “What was it you said attracts you to him?”  

                Deniah’s face reddened even more, her freckles standing out sharply. “Honestly, Gray! Why are you teasing me so? I am not attracted to a bird! I simply said he has the most intense and expressive eyes I have ever seen an animal have.”

                Gray Skies laughed lightly as they reached the river. “I will stop.” He promised. In truth he teased her because only with her could he be so carefree—and it was her smile that made him happier than anything else ever had.

                Waiting until she was sitting comfortably, Gray Skies took his place beside her and eagerly opened the basket of food she had brought along with her.

                “Where have you been, Gray? I’ve missed you.”

                “I had things I had to attend to.” Gray Skies replied, picking the largest piece of chicken from the basket and tearing into it.

                Deniah turned her gaze toward the peaceful river but not quickly enough that he missed the sad expression that came over her face. Gray Skies sighed. He hated being so vague with her but he could not tell her the details about what went on with his people. That was forbidden and would do nothing other than paint a target on her back.  

                “I’ve missed you as well.” Gray Skies admitted, hoping that would help make up for his lack of details. A smile was once more gracing her face as she turned to look at him again.

                “You’ve missed my chicken.” She countered. Gray Skies shrugged because it was the truth.

                “How are things for you?” Gray Skies asked gently. “How are things with your father?”

                Gray Skies knew that John was a hard man to live with. He had seen many tears on Deniah’s face because of her father. Nothing that Deniah ever did seemed to please the man.

                “Things are good.” Deniah replied quickly. At the raise of Gray Skies brow she sighed. “They are as good as they ever are.”

                Gray Skies frowned. “You are keeping something from me.”

                “He has been hinting since I turned sixteen that there are too many mouths to feed.”

                “Your brother is a twenty year old man. Why does he not move to a bigger town, get a job and send the money back to help provide?”

                “Because Matthew does not care about anyone other than Matthew.” Deniah replied sadly. Gray Skies dropped his nearly finished piece of chicken back into the basket and wiped his greasy hands on his buckskin pants. He moved the basket from between them and wrapped an arm gently around Deniah’s shoulders as he moved closer.

                “I am sorry.” He offered.

                Deniah sighed as she rested her head against his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Gray. You’ve been my best friend and greatest ally for years.”

                Gray Skies wished he could be more. “Does your father want you to leave then?” Gray asked with fear in his chest. While she lived in the forest his people called home, he could visit her, but if she moved away that would complicate matters.

                “He has mentioned me moving into town and taking up a job as either a housekeeper or seamstress now that I am a grown woman.”

                Gray Skies sighed. Her father was a cold-hearted monster. It was not the extra mouth to feed that bothered John Williams; it was that the face the mouth belonged to reminded him of his late wife. John could barely look at Deniah and Gray Skies knew that was the real reason the man wanted her gone.

                “I could earn fairly good pay as a housekeeper and he says he needs the extra money.”

                Gray Skies temper flared at the thought of Deniah being little more than a servant so that her father could benefit from the pay while Matthew worked so hard at doing nothing.

                “What money you earned would be yours. You would owe your father nothing. One less mouth to feed mean less money he needs to manage his home.”

                “I would have to help, Gray. He has no one else to help him.” Deniah countered. “I just do not see how the home will last if I’m not in it.”

                “You worry about him far too much.” Gray Skies scolded. “He and your brother are grown men. Let them worry about themselves.”

                Deniah just stared down into the river sadly and Gray Skies moved away from her, reached into the basket and removed two biscuits. “Eat.” He urged, sticking one under her nose.

                “Bossy.” Deniah accused, as she took the biscuit.

                “That should come as no surprise to you.”

                “It doesn’t.” Deniah assured him with a light laugh and just like that her sad mood was gone and the two of them fell into easy back and forth conversation.

                It was with a heavy heart that Gray Skies stood after only two short hours together. “I must be getting back.” He admitted, seeing that the owl was back and watching him intently from across the river.

                “I wish you could stay longer.” Deniah admitted as she took his hand and he helped her to her feet. Gray Skies felt the fire from her hand in his and he searched her face for any sign that she felt it too, but her eyes were focused across the river. “That owl is back… that is the same owl is it not? Or have I completely lost my mind?”

                “Does he have eyes as intense as your crow?”

                Deniah stared at the owl another moment and then turned to face Gray Skies, shivering as she did so. “No. That owl frightens me. I have never been frightened of my crow.”

                “I thought he was not your crow.” Gray Skies teased and Deniah smiled.

                “I’m fond of him.”

                Gray Skies was grinning as he picked up the empty basket and held out his arm for Deniah. She quickly looped hers through it and they started back toward The Witching Tree.

                “Gray….” Deniah bit her lip as they approached the tree and came to a stop.

                “Yes?” Gray Skies questioned, his eyes drawn to the way her teeth dug into her full bottom lip. Did this woman honestly not know the spell she held over him? “If there was something wrong in your life you would tell me wouldn’t you?”

                “Why do you ask me such a question?”

                Deniah studied his face carefully and he treid to appear angry but he knew that would not be enough to stop her from continuing. Deniah was fearless and did as she wanted no matter the consequences.

                “I feel as if you are always here for me and you know everything about my life and yet I know nothing of yours or your troubles….”

                Gray Skies shook his head. “I have no troubles,” he assured her.  ‘ And my life is you’ he added silently.

                “You know that I would be here for you, don’t you?”

                “Of course.” Gray Skies assured her. “Now you should be getting home. I trust you can find your way from here?”

                Deniah’s eyes narrowed and she wagged her finger at him. “Don’t be clever. It does not become you.” She warned.

                Gray Skies smiled and laid the hand of the basket in her hand. “Thank you for the food.” He said. “And the company.”

                “Don’t make me wait weeks to see you again.”

                “I promise.”

                “I shall see you later then, my ghost.”

                Gray skies tipped his head and watched her walk away. She looked over her shoulder once and flashed him one of her breathtaking smiles and then she was gone and out of his sight.

                “You are tempting fate, Gray Skies.”

                Gray Skies sighed and turned to face his brother. “This is no concern of yours, Bearclaw.”

                “And the woman?”

                “Not for you to speak of.” Gray Skies warned, his fists clenching. “And you would do well to not follow me next time.”

                With that, Gray Skies pushed past his brother and set off through the woods, fully aware of the other man trailing along behind him.

Chapter Three: Gunshot at Sunset

Chapter Three: Gunshot at Sunset

                “Where have you been?” Gray Skies’ father Wolf Heart questioned as Gray Skies and Bear Claw made their way back into clearing that the tribe called home.

                Their numbers were smaller now and they no longer lived in the cabins they had once been able to call home. They had been reduced to living in teepees in order to be able to disappear that much more quickly should the need arise.

                They would not live on a reservation and most pale skins had no urge to live beside a group of savages and they were willing to kill innocent men, women and children in order to keep the savages away. Who were the true savages?

                Gray tipped his head. “Ask your other son, father. I am sure he would be glad to tell you.”

                “Gray Skies, you cannot continue to risk our people.”

                “I would never risk our people.” Gray Skies countered, feeling his anger grow toward this conversation that they’d had countless times.

                “Our chief feels differently.” Wolf Heart replied sadly as he patted his eldest son’s back. “He wishes to speak to you in his teepee.”

                Gray Skies felt a tremor of unease pass over him. Their people were not a strict people. They lived and worked together for the survival of the tribe. The chief, Big Sky, was more a figure of guidance than a ruler however if Gray Skies angered him enough he could either shun him from the tribe or order him killed.

                His head held high, Gray Skies made his way to the decorated teepee of their chief. He had done no wrong and would not fear this meeting. Deniah was worth any punishment and Gray Skies would not abandon her no matter what his people thought.

                “Come in, Gray Skies.” Big Sky’s voice called out as Gray Skies approached the flap. Gray Skies made his way inside. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the change in light and then fell on the aging chief sitting cross legged on the floor. Big Sky had lived for nearly ninety winters. He had seen the rise and the fall of their people. He had seen many changes to their land. He was blessed and loved by the Great Spirit to have lived so long.

                “Hello, my chief.” Gray Skies greeted him respectfully as he bowed his head.

                Big Sky raised a thin arm and waved his wrinkled, bony hand. “No need to bow, Gray Skies. We are meeting here as two equals. Use my name.”

                Gray Skies nodded as he took a seat on the ground across from the other man and looked into the chiefs sharp brown eyes. Everything else about the man had dulled with age but not his eyes. They still seemed to see and know all.

                Big Sky was silent a moment, simply staring into the small fire burning in the center of the spacious teepee. The sound of children playing and women talking drifted through the deer hide walls. Big Sky sighed as he looked at Gray Skies. “I have been told you have been making trips again to see your white woman with fire hair.”

                “I saw her this morning.” Gray Skies replied with a nod, knowing better than to lie.

                Big Sky tossed his long gray braid over his shoulder and studied Gray Skies carefully. “You understand the danger our people will face if we are found?”

                “Yes.”

                “Does this woman know of our secret?”

                “No.” Gray Skies shook his head. “She knows nothing and she asks nothing.”

                “Are you in love with her then?”

                Gray Skies hated the way the chief’s eyes were studying him and gauging his reactions. The old man’s face was drawn. His skin was folded in deep wrinkles and his lips were narrow and thin.  

                “No.” Gray Skies lied. He knew he was walking a fine line but it was one that needed to be walked.

                “You cannot be.” Big Sky reminded him. “She is not our kind. She is pale skinned. If her people knew about us, what we truly are, they would hunt us down and murder us like animals. You know this to be true.”

                “Yes, chief.” A thin gray brow quirked up and Gray Skies tipped his head. “Yes, Big Sky.”

                “Soaring Eagle spotted elk to the north while he was scouting. I want you to pick five other men and bring us some back.”

                Gray Skies nodded and slipped from the teepee. He wished his people would realize that he needed Deniah. She was as essential to his survival as the air he breathed.

                Shoving aside his thoughts, Gray Skies set about his task of gathering men for the hunting trip.

---

                Three long days it had been since Deniah had seen Gray Skies. She missed him more than she ever had before. Something had been different the last time they’d been together. She had noticed something in the way he looked at her and felt something when he had touched her that she had never seen or felt before. She had no name for what the feelings and sensations were but she wanted to experience them again.

 Deniah sat on the riverbank behind her family’s cabin and watched the clear water rushing over her bare feet. The sun was setting and the water seemed to glow orange as did everything else around. Deniah loved this time of day. The time of day when everything that stirred during the day began settling down and the night creatures began to wake from their slumber.

                On instinct, Deniah looked up and smiled when she saw the crow circling the sky above. She had no way of knowing if this was her crow, it was too far away, but she took a comfort in its presence just the same. Her papa was gone to town and would be until the next morning and so she was alone here with Matthew.

                She loved her brother but he had taken the wrong path in life. He did not work, barely even helping with the farm, and he liked his liquor more than he should. When he got to drinking, as he was doing now inside the cabin, he became angry and unpredictable.

                Deniah knew that out here was the safest place for her to be. She felt no urge to have her brother bellowing at her. Lying on her back, she stared up at the sky and watched the crow. It kept swooping low and then soaring back up. Flipping, diving and looping through the sky.

                “If I knew no better I would swear you were trying to impress me.” She said with amusement as she watched the bird’s antics. She was surprised when the crow flew down and landed in the grass only a few feet away from her.

                “Well hello, mister crow.” Deniah laughed lightly. The bird’s dark eyes looked straight back into hers intently. Deniah felt her breath catch as she looked right back into his eyes. There was something familiar about them…. Something that made her feel exposed and confused.  

                “Deniah?!” Matthew’s angry drunken voice exclaimed as he burst out the back door of the cabin. His clothes were disheveled, his red hair was a mess and a bottle of whiskey was clutched in his fist.

                Deniah pushed herself to her feet and grabbed her shoes. “Do you need something?” she asked.

                “Are you getting smart with me?” Matthew growled as he strode several steps toward her. Deniah swallowed hard and shook her head. She had nowhere to run. The river was behind her and Matthew was too close and too fast for her to run from anyhow.          

                “Of course not.” She hurriedly assured him, plastering a smile on her face. “Are you hungry? I have a pie baked. Would you like me to get you some?”

                “Why don’t you wait just a goddamn minute?” Matthew grumbled and Deniah pointed her finger at his chest.

                “Watch your language, Matthew.”

                Matthew sneered at her, took another big swig of whiskey and then grabbed her arm as she tried to slip past him. “Don’t tell me what to do, Deniah.”

                “Let go of me.” Deniah ordered, hoping her fear could not be heard in her voice. She attempted to yank her arm away but Matthew’s grip on her tightened painfully. She knew it was the liquor causing her brother to act this way. Matthew would never hurt her if he wasn’t drunk.

                “I’ve about had it with you.” Matthew sneered, the scent of liquor on his breath was enough to make Deniah gag. “Who were you out here talking to?”

                “No one.”

                Matthew’s eyes went to the river and narrowed. Deniah followed his gaze and saw the crow still standing in the same place, its dark eyes now locked on Matthew and appearing angry. Was it possible for a crow to look angry?

                “You were talking to that damn bird weren’t you? Well how about I just shoot the damn thing?”

                “Don’t you dare,” Deniah warned and Matthew glared at her.

                “You won’t tell me what to do!” He raised his hand and Deniah’s eyes widened as she realized he was going to hit her. He had never struck her before.

                Suddenly an ear piercing caw filled the air and the thudding of wings filled Deniah’s ears. Matthew cried out and jumped away from her as he swatted at the crow, currently attacking his face with its wings, feet and beak.

                “Damn critter!” Matthew bellowed. He pulled his gun and fired a shot before Deniah could stop him.

                She saw the crow fall away from Matthew and then it took off into the woods, though it was clear Matthew’s bullet had done damage as the creature could hardly maintain flight.

                Deniah felt tears filling her eyes and running down her cheeks. “How could you?!” she exclaimed brokenly.

“Deniah, I’m… I’m sorry…”Matthew muttered lamely, blood oozing from several cuts along his brow and cheek.  

Deniah turned on her heels and fled into the cabin. After locking herself in her room and securing a chair beneath the handle, she flung herself onto her bed and sobbed.

Chapter Four: Crow Feathers and New Sensations

Chapter Four: Crow Feathers and New Sensations

                Deniah did not step out of her room until dawn the next morning. She had not trusted being alone with Matthew, not after what he’d done outside. Matthew had stumbled down the wrong path in life around the time their mama had died. Deniah knew that if their father had intervened in the beginning Matthew probably could have been saved before it went too far, but John went a good year without actually seeing his children after losing his wife.

                Deniah missed her brother and pitied the man he had become. Just now, however,  she was angry enough at him to strike him if he dared to speak to her.

                She still could not believe that he had tried to strike her last night. Even more shocking was the reaction of her crow as it had attacked Matthew.

                Her crow…….

                Deniah’s heart broke as she remembered the sound of Matthew pulling that trigger and shooting the poor bird. It had gone into the woods but it had been obvious that the creature had been gravely wounded.

                Deniah could hear Matthew snoring loudly up in the loft as she slipped out of the cabin, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders to warn off the early morning chill and mist. Everything was shrouded in the thick dampness; blocking her view of the woods and mountains around her.

                Deniah walked barefoot across the wet grass to the river and then continued deeper into the woods, following the path her crow had taken. Her heart was hammering in her ribs and her stomach twisted n knots at the thought of finding the bird’s dead body but she knew she had to give him a proper burial if Matthew had indeed killed him.

                After all, the crow had died protecting her, as strange as that may seem.

                Deniah stooped and picked up a black feather from the forest floor, shaking as she clutched it to her breast. A tear slipped down her cheek as she glanced all around her. It was silly to be so upset over an animal but the crow was so much more than that to Deniah. He had been there so many times when Deniah had needed him and she had looked forward to seeing him as he had made an appearance nearly every single day for the last eight years…

                Deniah leaned against a tree, pressing her cheek to the rough bark as she sobbed and clutched that feather against her breast.

‘Hoooohoohoo’ Deniah’s head jerked up as she looked into the branches of a nearby tree and saw the owl watching her. A shiver ran down her back as she looked into its eyes and it stared right back. The owl was familiar…. Deniah recognized it as being the same owl from the river the day several days before.

Deniah was trembling as its big yellow eyes glared down at her; seeming to bore into her soul. She was about to turn and flee when two strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into a broad, bare chest.

                Deniah did not panic. She knew Gray Skies’ arms when she saw them. Again she felt that strange sensation of heat work its way throughout her body, warming her from the inside out.

                Gray Skies waved one hand in the owl’s direction, starling the bird and causing it to fly off quickly into the forest. “Deniah, I do not like finding you in tears out here alone.” Gray Skies whispered, his warm breathe dancing across her ear and causing her to tremble. Her knees suddenly felt weak and Deniah clung to Gray Skies arms while wondering what these feelings were.

                “How did you know I would be here?” she asked breathlessly as she leaned against his strong body.

                “I did not.” Gray Skies replied, his voice seeming strained. “I was coming to slip a message beneath the rock. I wanted to see you today.”  He turned her around and Deniah gazed up at his sharp-featured face. He had full, firm lips, defined jaw and high cheekbones. A strong brow and thick lashes lined the most expressive and caring brown eyes that Deniah had ever seen.

                Her trembling and jumbled, confused thoughts over her feelings only increased when Gray Skies ran one gentle knuckle down her jaw. “What has you in tears, Fire Hair?”

                “What…?“ Deniah frowned. “What did you call me?”

                A smile curved Gray Skies’ lips. Her hair was loose and he looped several long curls around his finger. “Your hair is like fire.”

                Deniah couldn’t speak as she stared up at him. Never had he commenting on her appearance before. Did he like hair that looked like fire? As he continued to stare at the long strands against his skin, Deniah suspected he did.

                What was this? What was this heat, this pulsing in her core, this fluttering in her chest? What was she feeling as she stared up at his handsome face? It was something she had never felt before but it was pleasant and she liked it.

                “Tell me,” he urged, bringing his gaze back to her eyes. “What has you so upset?”

                All good feelings fled from Deniah as she thought of the feather clutched in her hand. “He killed him, Gray.”

                “Who killed whom?” Gray Skies asked, his black brow rising.

                “Matthew shot my crow.” A new tear slipped down Deniah’s cheek as she held up the shining black feather.

                “Why would Matthew do that?” Gray Skies voice was tight.

                “He had been drinking.” Deniah replied simply. Gray Skies nodded and then surprised her when he grabbed her arm gently in his hand and moved her shawl to reveal to bruise just below her elbow from Matthew’s grip.

                “And this was because he was drinking?”            

                Deniah’s mouth worked as she tried to speak but no words would form. How had Gray Skies known she was bruised? She had never seen Gray Skies so angry. His brown eyes were flashing and the muscles in his jaw were tense and jumping. Suddenly the story from last night was pouring from her lips.

                “He was drinking and he didn’t mean any harm.” She quickly assured a shaking Gray Skies. “He grabbed my arm and I made him angry so he was going to strike me—“ A string of words flew angrily from Gray Skies’ mouth in a language that Deniah did not understand. Deniah rushed to continue as soon as Gray Skies mouth snapped shut. “—My crow attacked him. It was the most incredible thing I had ever seen! And then Matthew pulled his gun and…” Deniah’s voice trailed off as she covered her mouth with her hand and sniffed.

                Gray Skies stood there silently for several long moments. His eyes closed and he breathed deeply leaving Deniah to wonder what was going on in his head. His calloused thumb gently stroked the tender bruise on her arm, sending prickling shockwaves of awareness clear up into her scalp.  She didn’t understand this! She’d known Gray Skies for years—why was she feeling these strange, pleasing sensations now?

                “How is Matthew’s face?”

                Gray Skies’ question was unexpected and Deniah blinked several times before replying. “He had several deep scratches.” She would swear Gray Skies appeared proud. “Why?”

                “I am certain your crow is fine.”

                “But I saw him get shot.” Deniah argued with a forceful shake of her head. “And I found this feather.”

                Gray Skies released his hold on her and took the feather from her hand. He placed the base of the feather between his full lips and his long fingers quickly began to braid a lock of her hair. Deniah stood there, too full of heat and confusion to speak.

                “Hold this.” Gray Skies ordered, lifting her hand to the bottom of the braid. Deniah did and then Gray Skies ripped a fringe of buckskin from his pants before moving her hand and securing the braid. He then attached the crow feather and smiled.

                “Your crow is fine. I am sure of it.”

                “Gray Skies….” Deniah began but he took a step back and sighed.

                “I must be going.” He said with regret. “I want to warn you of something—“ he continued. “—if your brother lays another angry hand upon you he will pay for it with blood. No one hurts you without answering to me.”

                Deniah swallowed hard at the possessiveness she could hear in his voice. Where had that come from?! And, more importantly, why did she like it?

                “He won’t, Gray,” she assured him.

                Gray Skies gaze strayed to Deniah’s lips and on instinct her tongue shot out across them. She saw Gray Skies’ eyes turn dark and he sounded as if he were in pain as an animalistic growl left his chest, working up through his throat before passing between his lips.

                “Tomorrow. I will see you tomorrow around midday.” He ground out and then with clenched fists he moved around her and began to walk away.

                That’s when Deniah saw it. Something that made her heart cease beating and caused her to question her very sanity.

                On Gray Skies’ back, just below his shoulder was a deep gouge. It was red, oozing blood and quite painful looking. Blood streaked his skin as well, some of it dried and some more fresh. It looked suspiciously as if Gray Skies had been grazed by a bullet.

                “Gray?” she somehow found her voice as she touched her hand subconsciously to the crow feather in her copper hair.

                “What is it, Fire Hair?” he questioned, as he stopped walking but did not turn to face her.

                “What—“ Deniah swallowed hard. “—what did you do to your back?”

                “I fell.” He replied tightly. He was lying and it hurt. Deniah knew that Gray Skies had the grace of a panther. He did not fall. “Go home, Deniah. I am certain your crow will be there soon and he will be worried about you. I will see you tomorrow.”

                With that Gray Skies went on his way into the trees; vanishing just as ghost would vanish and laying claim to the name those in these mountains had given his elusive people.

Chapter Five: Threats, Confusion and Fireside Chats

Chapter Five: Threats, Confusion and Fireside Chats

                Deniah saw her papa’s wagon approaching later that same day and nearly cried out with shock when Matthew’s arms gripped her wrist tightly. He grunted as he dragged her into the barn and out of sight.

                “What are you doing?” Deniah demanded, fear prickling up on the back of her neck as she remembered their encounter from the night before.

                Matthew’s eyes were still bloodshot and his complexion was ashen. He glared down at her and she could smell the whiskey still on his breath. She wondered if he’d been drinking already again that morning but did not dare to ask him.                

                “You better not tell him.” Matthew warned.

                “I better not tell who what?”

                “You better not tell papa about last night.”

                “You mean when you shot my crow? Or were you referring to bruising my arm?”

                “I didn’t bruise your damn arm.” Matthew countered.

                Deniah jerked her wrist from his iron grasp and raised the sleeve of her blouse to reveal the dark mark marring her pale skin. Matthew’s face paled yet more and he shoved his hand through his thick red hair. “Shit, sis, I didn’t mean to do that!”

                Deniah’s throat clogged. “But you meant to kill my crow?” Despite Gray Skies assurance that the crow would be fine and despite her own confusion over the gouge on his back, her crow was nowhere to be seen. It was nearly midday and he had yet to make an appearance.

                “That damn bird was attacking me! Have you seen my face?”

                Deniah saw the scratches along his cheek but could not manage to muster up even the smallest of sympathies. “It served you right for manhandling me that way.”

                Matthew scowled. “Just keep your mouth shut, Deniah. You tell pa my secret and I’ll tell him yours.”

                Without giving Deniah time to ask him what secret of hers that he could possibly know, Matthew strode from the barn and called out a meeting to their papa. Deniah took a few moments to compose herself.

                Matthew was frightening her. He had been falling deeper and deeper into darkness as of late and now he was nearly unrecognizable. The Matthew from her childhood would never have manhandled or threatened her. He would never have had such blind fury or rage in his eyes. Deniah shivered. The drink did bad things to a man.

                She let out a shaky breath and stepped into the sunshine. “Hi, papa.”

                “Deniah.” Her papa acknowledged with a tip of his head as he hopped down off his cart. “I trust things were fine here while I was gone.”

                Matthew met Deniah’s gaze over their papa’s shoulder and the warning in his eyes made her shiver. She looked away from him and smiled at John. “Of course things were just fine, papa.” She assured the man as she stepped forward and laid a kiss to his cheek. He stiffened at the contact just as Deniah had known he would. “I baked a pie this morning. Come on in and I will get you some. Matthew too.” She added.

                “That will be nice, dear. I have some things to talk to you about as well.” Her papa stated. Deniah did not like the way her papa spoke those words but she kept the smile on her face and led the men inside. She placed their pie on plates and sat it on front of them both at the table.

                “You eat,” she urged. “And then we can speak about what news you have, papa.”

                Deniah quickly slipped back out the door, eager to put off whatever talk the man was wanting to have. Knowing her papa the way she did, Deniah was sure it had something to do with getting a job in town. She did not mind working and it wasn’t the idea of hard labor that caused her to dread the prospect of a job—no it was being so far from Gray Skies.

                She knew next to nothing about his people but one thing she did know was that they did not go to towns. They avoided pale skins at all costs—though Deniah was glad that Gray Skies made an exception for her. She wished she knew more about his people, his family, but he would not speak of them and Deniah had learned long ago to stop asking.

                They were called the Ghost Tribe and many believed them to be just a rumor. A story dreamed up by protective parents attempting to keep their children from wandering into the woods at night. Deniah knew the truth. They were not ghosts, they were flesh and blood. And feather?

                As she sat down beside the river, Deniah raised her hand to the braid Gray Skies had placed in her hair and the feather he had slid inside the band. Could Gray Skies be her crow? They had both appeared in her life at roughly the same time and it seemed that when the crow disappeared, Gray Skies appeared soon after.

                Deniah laughed at herself. Of course Gray Skies was not a crow! He was a man! Men could not simply turn into animals. The very idea was absurd. Still, Deniah was more certain than ever that her crow had not been ordinary crow.

                She lay back on the long grasses and gazed up at the sky as her heart broke. Her poor crow; shot by her drunkard of a brother while protecting her. Deniah closed her eyes and let the sunlight shine down upon her, imagining that the warm rays were washing away her pain.

                She nearly screamed when she felt something touch against the bare skin of her wrist. Her eyes flew open and her gaze dropped to find a crow standing there in the grass with his beak against her pale skin—and the new bruise forming from Matthew’s grip in the barn.

                Deniah could not get her mouth to form words as she stared at the bird. Its eyes met hers and with shock she realized that this was no plain crow—this was her crow!  Gray Skies had been right!

                “Mr. Crow! I am ever so happy to see you!” she exclaimed with a smile. The crow tilted his head and once again touched its black beak gently against her wrist. “I am fine.” She promised gently. “It does not hurt, I promise.”

                The crow hopped back a step as Deniah sat up. “I want to thank you, Mr. Crow, for risking so much to protect me last night. My brother does not mean to do the things he does—“  The crow let out a whoosh of air that was either a snort or a sneeze. Could birds sneeze? Deniah was not sure. “What about you? Were you hurt?”

                Much to Deniah’s surprise the crow shook its head and then did a slow turn, spreading his wings so Deniah could inspect his body. She was surprised to not see a single injury. Confusion filled her. She was certain she had seen the crow get shot….

                Her thoughts were interrupted when the crow jumped up onto her lap and pressed its body against hers as if he were wanting to hold her close. The bird had never done this before and Deniah could not explain the tugging she felt in her heart at the contact.

                Instantly she laid a gentle hand on the crows back before taking one finger and running it over the creatures head. She felt the crow tremble beneath her touch.

                “Deniah!” her papa’s voice called from inside the house.  Deniah sighed.

                “I must be going, Mr. Crow. I am very happy that you’re alive and well. You had me worried.”

                The bird looked into her eyes for a moment and then Deniah gasped when its head came forward and it pressed its beak gently against her cheek. Deniah’s eyes widened as the crow pulled away and she stared at it with wonder.

                “Gray…..?” she whispered, her fingers pressing against the tingling skin of her cheek.

                “Deniah!” her papa’s voice held a note of impatience with this yell and the crow hopped off her lap. He let out a gentle cooing hum before unfurling his wings and flying off over the trees.

                Deniah watched him until he was out of sight, feeling more confused than ever before. Why was she feeling some of those same wonderful and alarming sensations that she had experience just that morning with Gray Skies.

                “Deniah! Get in here!” her father was growing angry now so Deniah scrambled to her feet, shoved her thoughts aside and dashed into the cabin.

---

“But papa, I don’t want to leave here. This is my home.” Deniah whispered as she and her papa sat alone beside the fire that night. He had informed her earlier that he had found her a job in town and she would be leaving in two days, though he had just now agreed to discuss it further with her.

                “I need the extra income, Deniah, are you truly that lazy?” Deniah bit her lip. That had stung.

                “Matthew could get a job just as easily as I can.” Deniah countered. “I am needed here to do the cooking and cleaning.”

                “I need Matthew here to help with the fields.” Her father countered, running his hands over his black beard and gazing into the fire.

                “I help with the fields.” Deniah countered, her temper rising a bit.

                John sighed and rubbed his face roughly. “Deniah I am not trying to punish you. I cannot trust Matthew the way I can trust you. Can you imagine what would happen to him without anyone to keep an eye on him in that town? How long do you honestly believe he would work with a saloon there to distract him?”

                Deniah remained silent for several long moments. Her father had never been so honest and open about his decisions with her. He had also never admitted that Matthew had a problem.

                “I need your help, Deniah. You are the only help I have.”

                Deniah felt her resolve crumbling. If her papa needed her than she would do what he asked of her. “Okay, papa.”

                “Thank you.” John replied, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “You are so beautiful, Deniah. Inside and out. So much like your mother.” He reached out an arm and cupped her cheek tenderly in his calloused hand. Deniah felt her heart swell with an emotion that was bittersweet.

                Then just as suddenly as her papa had offered that scrap of affection, he was pulling away and standing up. “I’ll be getting to bed now. You should as well. There will be a lot to do tomorrow to prepare for your leave.”

                Deniah watched her father lock himself inside his bedroom. She knew she should sleep as he had told her but instead she stared into the dying fire for a long while. The night was silent save for the chirping of crickets and Matthew’s incessant snoring.

                A thousand different thoughts and emotions kept her awake but one of the most prevalent of those was the dread she felt over her meeting with Gray Skies the coming day. Her heart was going to break at telling him goodbye (though she hoped they would still see each other on the occasions she was able to return to the cabin), and she had no doubt that he was going to be angry. Very angry.

Chapter Six: Stolen Kisses–Stolen Life

Chapter Six: Stolen Kisses–Stolen Life

                “Gray Skies, brother, you know you are tempting fate by seeing this pale woman. Why do you continue to play with fire this way?” Bear Claw questioned as he trailed after Gray Skies. It was just before midday and Gray Skies had to get to The Witching Tree for his meeting with Deniah.

                The thought of holding her soft body against him already had his blood heating in his veins.

                “You are pushing the boundaries, brother,” he warned the younger man. “I already have one shadow; I do not need another.”

                “I have to look out for you since you are too blinded to look out for yourself. You are too near the pale skins here. If they see you—“

                “She is a pale skin and I am still alive and well.” Gray Skies cut Bear Claw off. To say he was well was probably an overstatement. He was not well at all. He craved to have his Fire Hair in his arms. To cover her full, pink lips with his own and join their bodies as she moaned softly beneath him…..

                “Gray Skies, you are my brother and I worry for you.” Bear Claw interrupted his hungry thoughts.

                Gray Skies sighed and stopped walking as he turned to face his brother, younger than him by two years. “Bear Claw, I will be fine. I know the limitations and the boundaries that I cannot cross with this pale skinned woman.”

                “You desire her. You want her to be your wife.”               

                Gray Skies knew he could not hide anything from his brother. They knew each other too well. “Yes,” he replied simply.

                Bear Claw’s brown eyes filled with sadness. “You cannot.”

                “No.” Gray Skies shoulders drooped as he continued on his way. How much easier life would be if he could abandon his people, whisk Deniah away from her poor excuse of a family and take his place beside her just the way he knew he was meant to.

                “Then why torture yourself?” Bear Claw asked. “Find a woman our people will approve of and build a life with her. Forget about your pale woman.”

                Gray Skies simply shook his head and did not respond. Bear Claw had never been in love and therefore would never understood.

                “I’ll stay near just in case.” Bear Claw stated as they neared The Witching Tree and the younger man stopped walking.

                “Stay out of sight. You make her uneasy.” Gray Skies warned.

                “But I am beautiful and majestic.”

                Gray Skies grunted. “Ugly and frightening.”

                Bear Claw’s laughter faded into the background as Gray Skies left him behind and continued to The Witching Tree to wait for his Fire Hair.

---

                “Father, we need to speak.” Matthew stated as he approached the man in the barn. John stood straight, leaned his rake against the wall and winced as he rubbed at his back.

                “What’s the problem, son?”

                Matthew sighed but inside he was smiling. He would get Deniah back for acting as if she was so perfect and he was the one in the wrong. Damn her. She needed to be put in her place and telling their father about her secret rendezvous with that savage would be the perfect way to do that.

                Matthew had heard Deniah and Jonathon’s little chat the night before. Curse them both to hell for acting as if he were worthless. Jonathon would never look at his little girl the same once he caught her in the arms of a man no better than an animal! Matthew had known about her meeting with that savage for the last year but he knew it had probably been going on a lot longer.

                “It’s about Deniah, father.”

                “Well what is it, boy? Spit it out! Is she in trouble?”

                “She might be.” Matthew rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged sadly. “She’s been meeting with a savage.”

                Jonathon studied him hard for a moment and then shook his head. “Nonsense. There are no Indians around here.”

                “You know that’s not true, father. It’s one of them damn ghosts.”

                Matthew watched his father’s face lose all its color. “My little girl is out there in the woods with a ghost savage?”

                “Yeah.. I know I should have told you sooner but she begged me not to. She didn’t want you to know that she’s been meeting him for years.” Matt lowered his gaze and forced sadness. “She was ashamed of what you would think of her.”

                Jonathon let out a growl of rage and strode from the barn. Matthew jogged to keep up with the man as he entered the house and grabbed his musket from beside the door. “Get your gun, Matthew. No daughter of mine will be with a savage.”

                Matthew ran to grab his black powder revolver from beneath his bed. He was smiling to himself and proud that finally Deniah was going to be taught a lesson. Father would no longer see her in such a positive light.

---

                Deniah chewed her lip nervously as she made her way to The Witching Tree and struggled to think of what she would say to Gray Skies.  Saying goodbye to him was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done. True she still hoped that she would see him on the occasions she was able to come back to the ranch but those occasions would few and far between—not near often enough. Especially now that she was feeling this feelings toward him.

                Not that she was entirely certain what these feelings were. She glanced up from her feet as she walked across the forest floor and saw him.

                He took her breath. So tall, so proud, so handsome. He looked majestic and regal; as if he was a creature of this forest himself.

                Her voice left her and she could hardly speak. She managed to whisper his name, “Gray…”

                At the sound of her whisper his smile faltered, his dark eyes flashed and he was suddenly striding toward her. His long, lean legs ate up the distance between them and Gray was sweeping her into his arms.

                Without a word and too quickly for Deniah to understand what was happening, Gray Skies pushed her loose strands of hair away from her face, tilted her head back and pressed his lips to hers.

                Deniah froze. She had never been kissed. She did not know what she was expected to do or what to be prepared to feel…..

                What she felt was heat—white hot heat and a thundering in her chest. Gray Skies’ lips were not gentle, nor were they rough. They were firm, possessive and demanding as his hands lowered to her hips and pulled her body closer into his.

                An animalistic moan tore from Gray Skies’ throat and then he was breaking away from her just as suddenly as he had come upon her.

                “I apologize.” His voice was strained and his breathing harsh. “I should not have done that.”

                Deniah could not speak, could barely breathe. Her chest heaved with her breaths. Her lips felt swollen and they were hot as they tingled and burned. “Gray…..” She was surprised at herself when his name ended up sounding more like a moan.               

                Gray Skies looked as if he was going to swoop in and take her in his arms again however he stayed firm where he was and closed his eyes as he breathed deeply. “I should not have done what I did.” He repeated.

                “Yes you should have.” Deniah replied, shocked at her own boldness. “You should do it again.”

                Gray Skies eyes flew open and, more quickly than Deniah could blink, he was on her again. His hungry lips tasted her just as possessive and demanding as they’d been the first time. His hands went up her back, pulling her close and holding her there.

                Deniah wrapped her arms around him as well; pressing her fingertips into the bare skin of his lean back. She felt him tremble beneath her touch just before he deepened the kiss, sending his tongue between her lips.

                Deniah had no idea how to respond but then nature took over. She moaned deep in her throat, pushed her body against his and let her lips move and her tongue battle his.

                She cried out with frustration when he once again pulled away from her and put several feet of distance between their bodies. Deniah pressed her fingertips against her lips. “Am I doing something wrong?” she whispered.

                “No..” Gray Skies’ voice was little more than a croak. He cleared his throat before continuing.  “You could never do wrong. We need to talk, Fire Hair. You appeared to have something on your mind as you walked this way.”

                And just like that all the good feelings, all the tingling, all the heat, disappeared from her body. Deniah felt her shoulders fall and tears pricked behind her eyes. “He’s sending me to town, Gray. He found a job for me and I have to leave to take it.”

                “ Tla ! Why must it be you?” Gray Skies growled. Deniah simply shrugged one shoulder. She had known he would be angry. He only used his language around her when he was angry.

                “It just must be. Papa doesn’t trust Matthew to be out of his sight and remain sober. He says I am all he has and the only one he can trust.”

                “When are you leaving?” Gray Skies asked after several moments of silence.

                “Tomorrow morning. I am sorry, Gray….”

                “My Tsunadadatlutugi

, you never need apologize to me.” Gray Skies closed the distance between them again and pulled her body close to his. “You are my galvquodiadanvdo.”

                “I have no idea what you are saying to me.” Deniah whispered, finding that those foreign words spoken in his low, smooth voice caused her body to fill with a pulsing need—but a need for what she did not know.

                Gray Skies smiled down at her and then hugged her close, burying his face in her hair. They did not speak, simply held one another close. Deniah was certain she was in both heaven and hell. Being so close to Gray Skies; feeling his warm, hard body so close to hers and his arms holding her so tenderly, simply felt right. But the knowledge that she was leaving in the morning caused her heart to break in her chest.

                Deniah was building up her courage to ask him to meet her again that night while her family slept when she was stopped by the sound of an owl.

‘Hooooohoohoo Hooooohoohoo !’

She could not see the owl but Gray Skies stiffened and shoved her body behind him just before her brother and father came bursting into the small clearing.

                “You’ll get your dirty hands off my little girl, you animal!” Jonathon ordered. Deniah glanced around Gray Skies’ arm to see the rifle her papa had pointed at his chest. Matthew had a gun as well. Her entire world stopped turning.

                “Papa, Matthew, no!” she screamed as she tried to come around Gray Skies. She was shocked when his powerful arm wrapped around her and shoved her back.

                “She is mine.” He stated without fear.

                Deniah blinked several times as she stared up at him. She was his? Honestly? The man had not even asked…. Then again he did not need to. She was his and had been since he had pulled her from that river so many years before.

                “You’ll let her go now, savage. I don’t want to cause war between our people but if you don’t release my daughter then we’re going to find out real fast if ghosts can bleed.”

                Deniah felt tears on her cheeks. Gray Skies could not die! On instinct she looked at his back for the wound he’d had just had yesterday but her heart stopped when she realized it was gone. There was nothing but smooth healthy skin stretched over taut muscles.

                “Let her go!” Jonathon ordered again.

                Gray Skies’ reply was simple. “No.”

                “Enough of this!” Matthew raised his revolver and the awful sound of a gunshot reverberated through the forest as smoke filled the air. Deniah was faintly aware of a body flying between Gray Skies and her family as she screamed in fear for Gray Skies’ life.

                “ Dinadanvtli!” Gray Skies’ yell was primal and full of fear, hurt and rage as the man fell to his knees.

                Deniah stared in shock at the man Gray Skies was cradling in his lap. It was another Indian man, younger than Gray Skies, and bleeding heavily from a hole in his stomach. His breathes were shallow and his face draw and ashen.

                “Well I shot the wrong one.” Matthew laughed as he prepared to shoot again.

                “No!” Deniah screamed as she launched herself around Gray Skies and thrust her body in the line of fire. Matthew quickly raised his gun and scowled at her.             “You will not kill Gray Skies. I will come with you. I will suffer whatever punishment you deem worthy, papa, but please do not kill him.”

                Jonathon stared hard at her and Deniah held her head high, despite the tears running down her cheeks. She heard Gray Skies begin to say something and she shook her head and waved her hand back at him to silence his words.

                “You are to never see this man again, Deniah. He is a dangerous animal and no daughter of mine will dirty herself with him.”

                Deniah’s heart was screaming out for her to argue; to fight for Gray Skies. Her mind, however, knew better. To argue would be to sign Gray Skies’ death warrant and she could not do that.

                “Okay, papa. You are right.” She whispered.

                Jonathon held out his hand and Deniah took it. As her papa tugged her away from The Witching Tree and back toward home, Deniah glanced over her shoulder and immediately wished that she hadn’t.

                Gray Skies was still on his knees holding the bleeding man against his body but his eyes were locked on Deniah and in them she saw more sadness than she thought possible.  Inside she screamed out her feelings for the man and could only wish he would be able to read her thoughts.

---

                Gray Skies held his brother’s body against him and looked down at the other man once Deniah was out of sight.

                “Is she worth this brother?” Bear Claw questioned, his voice weak.

                Gray Skies chose not to answer for he was ashamed that the answer was yes. Deniah made him selfish and willing to sacrifice everything just to be near her.

                “I am dying.” Bear Claw stated, his dark eyes staring up at the bit of blue sky visible through the tree tops.

                “Yes.” Gray Skies replied quietly.

                Bear Claw smiled through blood covered teeth, as the red liquid dripped from his mouth and ran down his chin. “It seems we are not ghosts after all.”

                “No.”

                Bear Claw raised his arm and grabbed Gray Skies’s hand firmly. “I gave my life so you could have life, brother. Do not waste it. Have your life.”

                Gray Skies did not respond. He didn’t know exactly what his brother met by that. Have what life? Bear Claw began coughing, his blood splattering against Gray Skies’ skin. Gray Skies stared down into his younger brother’s eyes as they lost focus and finally when the life left them completely, Gray Skies pulled his brother into his chest and rocked back and forth as he cried over his loss.

A/N: Okay so I found an english/cherokee translator. I know the words probably aren’t exactly right but they are as close as I could get so please dont be offended if i wrote something wrong!

Translations:  Tla :  No

                          Tsunadadatlutugi : sweetheart

                           Galvquodiadanvdo : soul

                           

Dinadanvtli : Brother

Chapter Seven: Death Chants

Chapter Seven:

                Deniah folded her legs under herself as she sat curled upon the empty flour sack in the corner of the dark, damp cellar.

                She had no way of knowing how long she had been here. There were no windows, no source of light, to tell the night from the day. The tears had long since stopped flowing and now she simply waited.

                Her papa had tossed her down here and locked the door behind him when he had left, telling her he had business to tend to in town. Deniah didn’t know where Matthew was and honestly she hoped to never see that monster again.

                Matthew was no longer her brother. He was no longer the boy he had once been. Something evil lived inside his soulless eyes. Something that drove him to drink too much and be filled with rage. It caused to lash out at those weaker than him and murder innocent men…..

                Who was the man he had killed? It had to have been one of Gray Skies’ people. A cousin perhaps? Or a brother?

                Eyes that Deniah had thought were too dry to shed any more tears, quickly filled once again and her heartbreak poured down her face. How could Matthew have done what he had done? Poor Gray Skies….

                Deniah had caused that pain that had been in his dark brown eyes. If she had not met him, if she had not led her brother and father right to their special place, then no one would have pulled a trigger and no one would have died.

                Gray Skies would no doubt hate her now and she could not blame him. The look in his eyes had made it clear that his heart had been broken as he’d held that dying man in his arms.

                Deniah wrapped her arms tight around herself and buried her nose in her skirts to block out the musty smell from the corner. She’d had no choice but to relieve herself, as shameful and embarrassing as that was, because no one had answered her calls to be let out.

                What if something happened to them? What if she ended up stuck down in this cellar for days? There was food at least but surely she would go mad! Already the walls seemed to be growing closer with every passing hour. Would anyone come looking for her ever? Or would she simply remained locked down in this darkness and one day die of the madness that ate away at her brain?

                Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of rattling chains. Deniah leapt to her feet as the cellar door was pulled open and her papa stepped down the staircase. He looked tired. His gray hair was a mess on his head, dark circles surrounded his eyes and his skin was drawn over his gaunt face.

                “You will go pack a bag and you will spend tonight at the Inn in town.” He stated without looking at her.  

                “But papa, why…?”

                “In the morning we will be leaving. Matthew and I are going to be taking you to the train station which is three days ride by wagon away and you will be leaving for New York.”

                “New York?” Deniah shook her head and stepped toward her papa only to have him back away and meet her gaze. She swiped at her wet face and stared into his eyes, silently pleading with him to have mercy on her. “Why, papa? Why are you sending me away?”

                “Because you have now become my biggest shame and disappointment.”

                Deniah felt as if she had just been punched in the gut. “But, papa, I love him…” she whispered, knowing it was the truth. She was in love with Gray Skies and had been for a long time.

                Her papa’s face paled and he appeared sickened by her words. “I never thought that I would have reason to be ashamed of you, Deniah.”

                “But—“

                “You let that animal touch you!”

                “Gray Skies is not an animal!” Deniah shouted, surprising even herself. “He is a good man!”

                “He is no man!” John bellowed as his hand fell sharply across her cheek. Deniah laid her hand against her burning face and stared at her papa with shock. He had never struck her face before. She tasted blood and knew he had split her lip.

                Shockingly enough he did not seem bothered by what he had just done. “He is a savage and you let him touch you! So help me God, Deniah, you had better tell me that you still have your innocence.”

                “Yes, papa…” she whispered. “I still have my innocence. But I will not go to New York. I will stay here.”  

                “Why? So you can be with your animal?” Jonathon spat.

                “Yes, so I can be with Gray Skies. You call him an animal but he is not the one that shot an innocent man! Matthew did that!”

                “Don’t you worry yourself about what your brother has done. He would not have had to shoot anyone if you hadn’t been such an irresponsible child!” Deniah felt her heart twist painfully as if there was a knife thrust deep inside of it and turning slowly.

                “Get your ass in the cabin and pack your things.” Her papa grabbed her arm roughly and all but tossed her toward the stairs. Deniah was unable to catch her balance before scraping her knees against the rough wooden boards. She cried out with pain but her father jerked her to her feet and continued shoving her.

                Deniah quickly scampered up the steps and realized it was already almost dark. “Papa, why New York?” she asked as she walked toward the cabin.

                “Plenty of rich men to marry you off to up there. Then I’ll know you’re safe and out of that savages reach and you’ll have plenty of money to send to your papa. Now go, I’ll ready the wagon.”

                Deniah wrapped her arms tight around herself and somehow managed to fill her small traveling trunk with clothes and belongings. She saw paper and an ink well and quill on her bedside table and quickly wrote a letter to Gray Skies.

                She didn’t know if he would come and look beneath their rock but she knew she had to leave him something. She had to let him know how sorry she was and why she was now leaving.

                Slipping out the back door of the cabin, Deniah managed to get to the side of the barn and slide her note beneath the rock without being seen. She walked out the front of the cabin moments later, dragging her trunk behind her.

                As her father drove the wagon slowly away from the cabin he never spoke a word. Deniah found herself staring up at the darkening night sky, hoping she would see her crow. But the sky was empty and he never came.

---

                Gray Skies felt his heart breaking as the chants rang out in the night. His people were a small community. There were other clans scattered across the country, living in pockets and attempting to remain untouched and undiscovered by the pale skins, but their numbers were very few. It made any loss they suffered that much more devastating but especially when the life lost was that of a young, strong man such as Bear Claw had been.

                Bear Claw’s body would be buried in the morning just after first light so that his flesh might continue to feed mother earth and be recycled into nature but for now his body was laid out in the family teepee and in small groups the tribe was entering the sadness inside and paying their respects to the young man.

                Gray Skies did not want to be in this teepee but as Bear Claw’s brother and the last to speak with him it was his duty to stay with the body until it was buried.

                His father, after hearing the story of what had happened to his youngest son, had turned his back on Gray Skies and had yet to speak another word to him. For the first time in his life Gray Skies was thankful his mother had already passed on. He was not sure he would be able to survive seeing the shame in his father’s eyes, shining out of hers as well.

                No one that entered the teepee said as much, but Gray Skies could read the blame on their faces when they looked upon him. It was his fault that Bear Claw was lying there cold and lifeless. It was his obsession with Deniah that had led to this. It had been his inability to stay away from his Fire Hair had led to his brother’s life being stolen away from him.

                If Gray Skies had any pride in his people, any decency left in him at all, he would swear to stay away from that woman and all other pale faces but clearly Gray Skies was as evil as his people now thought him to be because all he wanted was to hold Deniah. He wanted to feel her holding him. He wanted to look into her gray eyes and see her smile as she helped to love his pain away.

                The chanting grew louder outside and Gray Skies clenched his fists as he stared down at the floor. His nostrils flared as he tried to breath in gulps of air to fight the rise of emotions in his chest.

                Never had he felt so lost.

Chapter Eight: Punishment and Signs

Chapter Eight: Punishment and Signs

                Gray Skies had known this moment was coming, he had only hoped the elders would allow him more time to grieve. It seemed they were not going to do that however as they had summoned him to the chief’s teepee.

                His brother’s body had not even been buried a full hour and Gray Skies was now facing punishment. He pushed aside the flap and stepped into the dark interior, his eyes quickly taking in the four men who had been waiting on him.

                “Gray Skies, you have much to tell us.” Chief Big Sky stated. His brown eyes were the only pair not looking at him with anger or judgment.

                With a sigh, Gray Skies retold the story of what had happened to end his brother’s life and all of the events leading up to it. When he finished he sat there in tense silence and awaited their ruling.

                “Were you not warned that bad things would come from seeing that pale skinned woman?” Big Sky questioned.

                “Yes.” Gray Skies replied, keeping his gaze on the bear fur rug he was seated upon.

                “And yet you chose to go against our people’s wishes and see her.”

                “Yes.” Guilt ripped at Gray Skies heart.

                “And because of that your brother is now dead.”

                “Yes.”

                “Do you vow to never see your pale woman again?” Big Sky asked. “Can you do your brother that honor?”

                Gray Skies did not reply because he suspected the answer would not be one they wanted to hear. The answer was no. Gray Skies could not make that vow. Not now. His mind was too clouded, his thoughts too jumbled and his emotions too raw.

                “Leave us.” Big Sky ordered, his eyes not appearing as kind as they had when Gray Skies had entered. “We will discuss what the consequences of your choices shall be.”

                Gray Skies stood and made his way to the flap, stopping and bowing his head at the last moment. “I will humbly accept any punishment you feel I have earned however nothing you do to me can cause me near the pain as the loss I have just suffered.”

                Without waiting for a response, Gray Skies left the teepee. He met his father’s eyes across the camp and saw, even from this distance, the way they filled with disappointment and sadness.

                Suddenly he could not take it anymore. He had to get away even if only for an hour. Gray Skies ran into the woods, allowing his feet to carry him quickly across the leaf and rock strewn ground. He did not stop until he came to a rocky outcropping full of caves, waterfalls and a peaceful calm that Gray Skies needed to feel.

                He untied the leather strap holding his knife on his leg and took off his buckskin pants and shoes. The warm breeze blew against his bare skin and slowly his stress began to melt away. While his mind was still crowded he though he may actually be able to think through his tangled thoughts out here. Gray Skies walked to the edge of the rocks and look down the jagged cliff line to the pool of water one hundred yards below.

                He took in a deep breath, stretched his arms over his head and leapt over the cliff, his body falling swiftly toward the jagged rocks and pulsing current below.

                As he fell, Gray Skies focused on the change that needed to take over his body. As his bones shrank and shifted he felt no pain. Fluidly black sleek feathers burst from his skin, his face elongated into a beak and at the last moment, just before his body crashed against the rocks, Gray Skies spread his wings and soared over the rocks and water, letting the breeze carry him higher and higher up to the clouds.

                As he looked at the rolling mountain terrain around him, Gray Skies reveled in how much simpler life was up here. No tribe. No pressure. No guilt. No pain. Just the sky, the breeze and the sun. Up here as the crow he could forget about his troubles, if only for a moment and simply be .

                Flashes of Deniah’s face appeared in his mind. Her bright smile, freckled cheeks and fire hair. He thought of her body and how soft and warm it had felt pressed against his own. He thought of how her lips had tasted to his tongue. Suddenly all he wanted in the world was her. Nothing else mattered.

                But as Gray Skies let his wings begin to take him to his woman a wolf yipped below him and an eagle joined him in the sky.

                His keepers.

                Though he could not see the wolf, Gray Skies knew it was his father. Gray Skies’ people were unique. They were shifters. Their souls were not tied to any one form; they could choose which body suited them. Human, crow, wolf, eagle, owl—each tribe member had one animal that was the easiest to master. While they could become any animal they chose as long as they had seen the creature before, anytime you shifted you shared that animal’s body with the animal urges.

                For Gray Skies the crow was the easiest. For Bear Claw it had been the owl, though he’d also been fond of shifting into a bear and scaring the girls in the clan. Their father preferred the wolf and Gray Skies knew that eagle was another brave named Eagle Feather.

                No doubt they had followed him to ensure that he was not running back to Deniah.

                Knowing he could not go to her now and would have to wait, Gray Skies began to fly in slow, lazy circles. It was his hope that the others would grow bored and leave him be. After nearly two hours, Gray Skies realized this was not the case.

                He flew back to the rocky ledge he had left his clothes on and landed gracefully. His claws clicked against the wet stone as he walked to his clothes and felt the fluid change once again taking place in his body.

                The smallest sheen of sweat on his copper skin was the only sign of what he had just done as Gray Skies stood straight, once again a man.

                He was just sliding into his pants when Eagle Feather approached him, also having shifted back into a man. “You are wanted back at camp.” Eagle Feather stated. “The chief wishes to speak to you once more.”

                Gray Skies nodded and was thankful for the smallest bit of worry he could see in Eagle Feather’s eyes. They had been friends most of their life, though not close friends. Gray Skies could not have risked anyone finding out about Deniah and just how deeply attached to the woman he was. Bear Claw had been the first and it had cost the man his life.

                “I am sorry this happened.” Eagle Feather admitted. “I know that you would have rather that bullet struck you than killed your brother.”

                “Yes I would have.” Gray Skies agreed without hesitation. He tied his knife to his leg and without another word headed back to camp to find out his fate.

---

                “No punishment.” Big Sky stated as he and Gray Skies sat alone inside his teepee.

                Gray Skies’ eyes widened in surprise. “Truly?”

                “You have a decision to make, Gray Skies. It is either your people or your pale woman. You cannot continue to live in both worlds. It is too dangerous for us. Our people will be hunted and slaughtered like animals if you continue to draw the attention of the pale men.”

                “Yes, chief.”

                “You must make your decision soon, Gray Skies, or face being shunned.’

                Gray Skies nodded his understanding, his braids falling across his shoulders. Being shunned was a terrible curse. It meant you had no people, no home and it was rumored that the Great Mother would no longer allow you to shift forms. You were left merely a shell of what you had once been.

                “Leave now, Gray Skies. You have much to think about.”

                Gray Skies slipped from the teepee relieved that his punishment had not been worse and yet more lost than ever about what to do.

                Give up Deniah? Was that something even conceivable for him? Was it something he had the power to do? She was in his blood. She was what flowed through his veins and had been since he had pulled her from that river so long ago.

                Gray looked up at the afternoon sky and made his way back to the rocky ledge he had spent his morning at. He sat upon the rocks and simply stared out into the sky.

                Gray Skies loved his people. He did not want to let go of them. Yet they did not look at him the same now. He was a disappointment and had cost them Bear Claw. And Deniah… would she want him now? Was she okay? Gray Skies did not know. He remembered the rage on her father’s face and the madness in Matthew’s eyes and his blood froze.

                What if they had harmed her?

                Gray Skies could not allow Deniah to be harmed because of him.

                But if he left…..

               

‘Hooooohoohoo! Hoooooohoohoo!’

Gray Skies’ head whipped around and he saw the owl in the tree.

                “Bear Claw?” he whispered.

                The owl’s intense eyes met his and suddenly Gray Skies was hearing a replay of his brother’s dying words in his head.

                “I gave my life so you could have life, brother. Do not waste it. Have your life.”

                “Is this what you meant, Bear Claw? Am I supposed to be with Deniah? To abandon our people and go to her?”

                The owl suddenly leapt from the branch, unfurling his wings and coming straight for Gray Skies. It lifted at the last minute, just barely grazing his head with his talons before soaring off toward the east and—Deniah.

                Gray Skies looked up at the darkening sky and a faint smile curved his lips. “Okay, brother. Thank you for the sign.”

Chapter Nine: Death and Danger on the Cliffs

Chapter Nine: Death and Danger on the Cliffs

                Gray Skies knew he had no time to waste. Already he could feel fear gripping and clawing at his gut. Was his Fire Hair safe? Why had he not gone to her sooner?

                His fists clenched as he ran through the darkening forest. Gray Skies knew he could reach Deniah’s home faster as a crow but knew he needed to do so as a man. And if her father and brother had harmed a single blazing hair on her head he would spill their blood.

                On and on he ran silently. His feet made no noise as they bounded across the leaf and stick strewn forest floor. The pale faces called his people the Ghost Tribe and that is what Gray Skies moved as. Silent as a ghost.

                He was not being followed. He had made sure of that first before heading toward Deniah’s home. He knew that Chief Big Sky had no doubt told the tribe to leave him be and let him have his space to make the decision he needed to make.

                And Gray Skies had made his choice. He had never truly had one to make. There was always only one decision he could make.

                It was nearing midnight when the clearing and Deniah’s home came into view. Gray Skies knew instantly that something was wrong. It was far too quiet. Different from ordinary silence, this was oppressive, thick and heavy.

                Giving no heed to the danger of Matthew and Jonathon’s guns, Gray Skies ran to the cabin door and threw it open. He had never before been here outside of crow form and this was his first time inside.

                The cabin was meager at best but it was clean and tidy. There were wildflowers in a jar on the table but they had begun to wilt.

                “Deniah!” Gray Skies called into the silence. “Fire Hair?”

                There was no answer though he had not truly expected one. Still Gray Skies searched the two small bedrooms and climbed the ladder to the loft.

                Frustrated and growing sick with worry, Gray Skies made his way back out into the night. Where was she? Desperation and sadness filled his soul. He had lost her.

                Gray Skies had no way of knowing where Deniah’s family had taken her, though he knew it was a long trip because all of her belongings had been gone. Instinct told she was not in town merely a few hours away. They would not want her that close to him; that within his reach.

                Gray Skies walked down to the river and sat in the spot Deniah loved. The very place he had visited her as the crow, her crow, many times. Crickets and frogs filled the inky black night with their songs as Gray Skies stared down at the gently moving current of the water.

                Gray Skies’ mind raced. His brother had sent him a sign. Had Gray Skies misunderstood? Where was Deniah? Had she been harmed? Was she angry with him for not coming for her more quickly? The answer to that final question was no. She would not be angry at him. Deniah had the most forgiving soul that he knew. That was apparent in her constant defense of those monsters she called family.

                Time ticked by slowly as Gray Skies wondered what he should do. Should he go into town and ask those that lived there if they had seen Deniah and her family? That would be easier to do of course if pale faces did not hate and fear his people so greatly.

                Gray Skies sighed. If only seeing Deniah could always be as simple as slipping a note beneath a rock.

                The rock!

                Gray Skies leapt to his feet and ran to the barn. He moved aside their rock and nearly called out with joy when he saw the folded parchment beneath.

                Cursing the darkness that kept Deniah’s words a secret from him, Gray Skies quickly went back into the cabin and lit the lantern that hung beside the door with matches from the tidy countertop.

                He settled himself down at the table and read Deniah’s words, thankful that Big Sky had insisted their people learn to read, write and speak the pale man’s tongue.

Gray Skies,

                My heart is heavy and broken as I write this message and pray that you will find it. I wish I had time to write down all I long to say to you but I must write in haste before my father comes looking.

                My heart and soul both long to be yours. I am so very deeply in love with the strong, caring, proud man that you are. It is not meant to be however….

                I am so deeply sorry and my apology for your loss is most heartfelt. I never imagined Matthew could do anything so terrible.

                My father is taking me on a three day journey to Cedar Hills. From there, I will take the train to New York City and be wed to the first rich man who will have me. Please know that those are my father’s wishes and not my own.

                My heart will always belong to you, my ghost. Please do not worry for me too badly. I am certain that I will be safe and cared for. I pray that you never forget me completely.

                                                                                Eternally Yours

                                                                                Fire Hair

Gray Skies read the letter twice, his rage building and growing with every delicately penned word. He growled low in his throat and tossed the letter to the floor as he rose to his feet.

                Deniah was his! No other man would touch her. Gray Skies would gladly slice their throats if they dared to try.

                He strode back out into the night. The wind was beginning to blow with more force and Gray Skies could smell the rain. A storm was moving in and Gray Skies found it fitting as it matched the raging in his soul.

                “Is this your choice then?”

                Gray Skies’ head whipped around at the sound of Big Sky’s voice. The chief was standing in the darkness and his bare skin made it clear he had shifted and used his heightened senses as a great cat to track Gray Skies down more quickly and easily. His chief’s face appeared thoughtful and sad.

                “Yes.” Gray Skies replied. “She is my choice.”

                “I knew she would be from the moment I told you about the decision you had to make.” Big Sky’s eyes narrowed. “I can only hope your choice does not end with suffering for you or for our people.”

                “She is my one true life mate. I have to go to her.”

                “You know your heart and needs more than I,” Big Sky smiled, his wrinkled cheeks curving. “On foot you will have trouble catching them.” The chief looked out into the night. “It is too bad you do not have wings.”

                With those parting words Big Sky turned and walked away, fading into the shadows of the forest. Gray Skies frowned. Big Sky had not mentioned shunning him. Did that mean he would be allowed back? Now was not the time to worry about that.

                Gray Skies slid from his clothing and stood bare in the strengthening wind.

                He thought of the crow and moments later he was spreading his wings and heading up into the sky.

---

                Deniah was hurting. Her face, her arms, her back, her legs, her heart and her soul. All of these parts of her had been beaten and battered for nearly two full days.

                She, her papa and Matthew had been on this road toward Cedar Falls since dawn the morning before. They had camped last night but Deniah had felt as if she was with strangers.

                Matthew had been increasingly violent, forceful and mean. Deniah had hoped her papa would protect her but he had simply turned his head and pretended nothing was happening.

                Deniah’s body was dotted with fresh bruises from Matthew grabbing her roughly whenever the mood struck him. He had also taken to tripping her whenever she was off the wagon, though he claimed all four times had simply been accidents.

                The most recent time had been just after dawn as they had been taking down their camp. The rain had been coming down in torrents and the wind had been threatening to blow them all away.

                Matthew had stuck out his foot as Deniah walked to the cart and she had stumbled over his boot and struck her face against the wagon wheel.                 

                Now the rain had settled down to a steady bone chilling drizzle and Deniah’s eye was sporting a fresh bruise.

                “Well I’ll be goddamned!” Matthew sneered from atop the horse he was riding. Deniah and her papa were sitting at the front of the wagon and Matthew rode beside them on this tight and winding road.

                A few days before Deniah would have warned her brother about riding so close the steep mountain ledge but she no longer cared about his safety or well-being. Her love for her brother was now a dead thing that merely weighed upon her.

                “What is it son?” Jonathon questioned.

                “It’s a crow,” Matthew laughed. “Deniah has a soft spot for those ugly critters.”

                Deniah was shaking from the chill of the rain but her eyes instantly searched the sky for the crow her brother was referring to. Her heart constricted when she saw the black crow high above them. It was flying in slow circles and seemed to be moving lower.

                “I reckon I’ll shoot this one just the same as I did her last one.”

                Deniah saw Matthew pull his gun and she screamed. Without giving any thought to her own safety, Deniah prepared herself to launch from her seat and toward her brother….

                Several things happened all at once in the following seconds.

                A crow call filled the air, the rain grew stronger and lightning flashed. One horse screamed and another reared. Matthew cried out with anger and her papa with fear as the road they had been on gave way.

                Deniah was faintly aware of screaming as she, her family, the wagon and the horses were all sent tumbling over the mountain.

                Deniah struck her head against something hard while tumbling down and the last thing her eyes were aware of before her world went dark was a flash of black feathers and wide brown eyes.

Chapter Ten: Storms and Caves

Chapter Ten: Storms and Caves

                Gray Skies saw the wagon tilt and then tumble over the mountainside as the ground gave way. He saw the flash of Deniah’s fiery hair and he cried out for her; the cawing of his voice followed by a loud clap of thunder.

                Swooping down, ignoring the rain and fighting the wind, Gray Skies dove. He tried to follow the path Deniah’s body took as it banged against the rocks and ground, tumbling down the mountain. Her body broke away from the wagon, the thrashing horses and her brother and father, but soon became swept up in the mud, dirt and rocks tumbling from the road and he lost sight of her.

                Gray Skies could no longer hear her screaming and that frightened him more than anything else could have. Surely the Great Mother would not take her from him this way!

                Gray landed in the mud, his talons struggling to grip as they slipped and slid down the wet mountain. There was nothing he could do as a crow. Quickly he let the change take over him and then he looked all around him for Deniah’s body.

His head whipped this way and that in his search, his long black hair became wet and clung to his bare shoulders, back and chest. Angrily he swiped at the water dripping into his eyes.

                Where was she?! The rain, the wind, the splintered wood, mangled horses, fallen rocks and mud all made finding Deniah among them difficult. Gray Skies’ heart was racing and a lump had formed in his throat.

                “Deniah!” he screamed desperately, though his voice was barely audible above the roaring wind. Every bit of quiet calm that Gray Skies had been raised to possess left him. He became frantic, desperate and animalistic as he ran back and forth across the fresh landslide and cried out Deniah’s name.

                He clawed at the dirt and then he saw the flash of a pale leg when lightning ripped across the sky. Ignoring the chill of the rain as he slipped his slid his way to that leg, Gray Skies prayed desperately that he would find her alive.

                Never had he felt so helpless as he pulled the rocks and mud from atop her and took in the sight of her beaten and battered body.

                Gray Skies lifted her into his arms thankful when he heard her moans of pain. Moans meant that she was alive and that was all he needed to know. Gray Skies would take as long as was needed to nurse her body back to health. First, however, he had to get her out of this rain.

                Her face was pale and bruised. Her lips were turning blue and her entire body was trembling and shaking against him. Gray Skies saw a case lying half covered by broken shards of wood from the wagon. He scooped it up by the handle and made his way into the forest, never bothering to check Matthew or Jonathon. It was his sincerest hope that they were dead.

                Gray Skies’ only thought, his only concern in this moment was getting Deniah somewhere out of this storm and assessing the damage done to her. He ran then, ignoring the rain, the thorns tearing at his bare legs, the slippery ground.

                It took a long time to find a suitable place but when the cave came into view, Gray Skies knew he had found it.  He quickly carried her into the cave and laid her down upon the soft moss covered ground.

                The storm was easing but the inside of the cave was dark. Thankfully Gray Skies could see just as well at night as he could during the day as could all of his people.

                His heart was tight in his chest as he took in the sight of all the bruises marring her skin. Most were just forming, but some seemed older; at least a day or close to that old. Gray Skies’ blood boiled when he realized these bruises must have come from her so-called family. His hopes increased that those men were lying dead.

                Shame filled him as well. He should have never let them take her from him. He should have fought for her or gone after her more quickly. Because of his hesitation she might be…….. No! Gray Skies refused to acknowledge that Deniah could be dying.

                He was going to save her.

                Quickly he ran his hands along her body, searching for broken bones and breathing out relief when he found none. The bloody welt on her head worried him but he did not believe it to be life threatening.

Deniah was still shivering and cold from the rain outside. Gray Skies opened the case he had grabbed and as he tore through it he was relieved to find it contained a blanket, matches and a spare pair of pants he could slide into among other things.     

                He wrapped Deniah up tightly in the blanket, slid into the pants and went about gathering dry tinder from inside the cave for fire.

                He would not let Deniah die and he would never again let her go. She belonged to him.

---

                Deniah fought to regain consciousness. It felt as if she was deep down in murky water and fighting her way to the surface. She swam as hard as her arms would allow, pumping her legs and fighting to reach the surface.

                Her lungs burned, her muscles ached and still she could not break through to the air above. She could see the sunlight streaming down through the dirty water and she thrashed her head, desperate for just one good gulp of what was above.

                “Deniah,” Gray Skies’ familiar voice broke through the water and his shadow appeared on top of the river’s surface. Deniah reached for him, desperate to see his face again; knowing deep in her heart that he would save her.

                “Fire Hair, you will wake up now.” Deniah felt his big hand close around her arm and she was lifted up and up. Her head broke the surface of the murky water and it was then that her eyes truly opened.

                “Gray! I thought I’d never get out of the river!” she exclaimed. Her arms went around his neck and she clung to him. She realized he did not hold her back and she frowned. “Hug me, Gray.”

                “Deniah, you are confused—do you even know where you are?”            

                “You saved me from the river of course.” Deniah replied with a light laugh. The pain was sinking in now. Her body hurt terribly. Her head was pounding, her back was aching and her skin was raw and burning in places. “How did I fall in the river?”

                “Deniah, look around you.”

                Deniah pulled away from Gray Skies and allowed her eyes to fall upon their surroundings. They were inside a cave, a deep cave. The entrance seemed small in the distance and water dripped into a pool somewhere behind her. She could also hear bats squeaking and it caused bumps to cover her flesh. She hated bats.

                “Gray, where are we?” she whispered. Her eyes went down to herself and fear gripped her heart. The sleeves had been ripped from her dress, though not cleanly. They were shredded and torn. Her skirt was ripped apart as well and she could see patches of her bare legs, cut up and bruised.

                Her arms were bruised and covered in scrapes as well. Deniah raised her hand to her pounding head and felt the welted bump above her temple, wincing when her fingertips bumped against it.

                “Gray…..?”

                Gray Skies scooted closer. He was wearing no shirt and dressed in white man’s trousers. She had never seen him wear clothes like those before. His hair was loose and hanging long and free and his face was drawn. His dark brown eyes looked deeply into her gray one’s as he laid a hand on her cheek.

                “Do you remember anything from yesterday, Fire Hair?”

                “Yesterday?” Deniah’s frown deepened as she struggled to understand what he was asking. Her pounding head had tears pricking behind her eyes.

                “You were in a wagon with Jonathon and there was a landslide.” Gray Skies offered.

                Suddenly it came back to Deniah. Flashes of falling rocks, twisting horse bodies, her brother and father’s screams mingling with her own…. And a flash of crow feathers.

                “What… where are they?”

                Deniah watched Gray Skies’ gaze falter and his eyes went to the stone wall beside them. “Dead.”

                Deniah’s hand flew to her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut tight. Dead? Her entire family was dead? Her mind had trouble comprehending that as her head pounded and her thoughts raced. If they were dead why was she alive? How had Gray Skies found them? How had she gotten here in this cave with him?  

                What was going on?

                Deniah wanted to ask him all these questions but her head began to swim and her vision went blurry. Nausea washed over her and she was certain she was going to vomit.

                “Deniah….” Gray Skies’ voice seemed far away and then her vision went completely black and it seemed as if she was falling once again. She felt Gray Skies’ strong arms wrap around her just before she lost her grip on consciousness.

Chapter Eleven: Mine

Chapter Eleven: Mine

                The scent of cooking herbs and meat had Deniah’s stomach rumbling as consciousness cleared her mind and roused her. Slowly she opened her eyes and pushed her sore body up to sit, blushing as she wiped at the drool covering her cheek. She glanced around the cave, searching for Gray Skies but realized she was alone. A pot of delicious smelling stew simmered over a small fire and Deniah moved closer to it and breathed in the scent while taking in the warmth of the flames.

                She saw two wool blankets lying on the floor of the cave and grabbed one. She wrapped it gingerly around her shoulders while wincing at the pain in her bruised and battered body. Where was Gray Skies?

                Deniah looked into the stew and thought about her family. They were dead now. She tried to force tears to come for her brother but they would not. He had turned into nothing but a monster during the last weeks of his life and Deniah would not mourn his loss. She did however shed tears over her father.

                He had been a good man and a good father until her mother had died and that had changed him. Losing his wife had turned Jonathon into a shell of the man he had been and he had never been able to fully come back. He had never found the bravery or strength to stand up to his bully of a son and he had broken Deniah’s heart by attempting to take her away from her home and force her into a loveless marriage.

                Deniah sighed as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. There would be no trip to New York and no forced marriage for her now… Gray Skies had saved her.

                Her Indian. Her ghost. Her man. A tremble coursed through her body at that thought and she marveled at the heat that pulsed through her, warming her chilled skin. She knew she was premature in calling him hers when they had never spoken of anything other than friendship between them. They had shared that kiss—that amazing earth spinning kiss but did that mean things had changed between them? Did Gray Skies want things to be changed between them?

Deniah rose to her feet, taking her time to slowly allow her body to hold its own weight. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep but one thing was certain; she needed to answer natures call and she needed to so quite quickly.    

Using the wall of the cave for support, Deniah made her way to the entrance, her bare feet moving silently across the rocks, mud and moss. “Gray?” she called as she peered out at the thick forest surrounding her. Deniah bounced on her toes for a moment and then decided she could not wait any longer.

                She slipped around the side of the cave and headed toward a large bush nestled in some pines. It took some doing with her beaten and battered muscles but Deniah managed to relieve herself without soiling her dress or undergarments.

                She readjusted her clothes but then was too fatigued to attempt to make it back to the cave. Bumps covered her flesh and she began to feel even more chilled. Deniah rubbed her arms, hoping to warm them as her chest began to burn.  A cough burst from her mouth and the pain in her lungs intensified.

                Her legs felt as if they were little more than twigs and the smallest breeze would topple her over. She laid her hand against her brow and winced. She was hot.

                Two strong arms encircled her waist and Deniah knew instantly that it was Gray Skies as she leaned back against his chest. She trembled at the feel of his breath on her neck but the trembling was hidden well due to the way her fevered body was shaking. She tried to open her mouth to speak but her teeth chattered together and she snapped her mouth closed.

                Quickly Gray Skies spun her around, gripping her upper arms to hold her steady when she swooned and nearly collapsed. His deep brown eyes looked into hers and a frown tugged at his firm lips. “You are not well,” he stated, his tone sounding almost accusing.

                Deniah forced her teeth to stop their chattering and managed a shaky smile. “I am just fine, Gray.”

                “Whenever you say you are fine, you are not fine. Such is the way with all women.”  Deniah wanted to scold him for making such a statement but his wrist came to rest on her brow and he let out a string of words that she assumed were curses in a language she did not understand.

                “Fire Hair, you should have waited for me to return and I would have helped you.”

                Deniah felt her face redden at the thought of Gray Skies helping her relieve herself. She had no strength to tell him that however. Her body shivered again and she nearly collapsed as her head swam. Gray Skies placed one arm behind her shoulders and the other behind her knees and scooped her up into his arms.

                “Gray, what are you doing? You’ll harm yourself.” Deniah scolded. Never before had a man carried her—at least not since she’d been a very little girl and her father had carried her to bed.

                Instead of responding, Gray Skies merely growled under his breath and held her more tightly. He carried her back into the cave and Deniah simply kept her arms around his neck and enjoyed the closeness. She laid her head against his shoulder and gazed at his neck and jaw, marveling at the strength and pride she could see.

                Gray Skies settled her back down on the blanket she’d been sleeping on and wrapped the second blanket tight around her. Deniah was in awe of the quiet grace he moved with as he ladled out some stew into a bowl and held it out to her.

                Deniah recognized the kettle, ladle and bowl that Gray Skies was using. They were the same utensils that her father had packed for their trip. “Gray, where are we?” she asked, before coughing several times and whimpering at the pain in her lungs.

                “In a cave,” Gray Skies replied with a frown. “Now eat and I will go get you medicine.”

                “Medicine?” Deniah was having a hard time focusing on anything. The world around her seemed to be moving in slow motion and every breath that she took in was like a knife between her ribs.

                “For your chest and fever.” Gray Skies replied gently. He crouched and placed a tender kiss to her brow. “Now eat, rest and do not leave this cave until I return.”

                Deniah watched him stand and walk to the cave entrance. “Gray?” she called out.

                He looked back at her expectantly. “You found my letter?” she questioned. He simply nodded “Gray, why did you come after me?” Deniah’s heart was racing though whether it was due to the fever and tightness in her chest or the way Gray Skies’ eyes were staring intently into hers she did not know.

                “Because I care,” Gray Skies replied after several long moments of silence. Deniah felt somehow let down by his answer—though it could simply be the fever causing her brain to not process conversation correctly. Perhaps the kiss had not meant to him what it had meant to her.

 Gray Skies’ eyes flashed and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And because no other man can have you. You are mine.”

                Deniah stared at the empty cave face long after Gray Skies had disappeared from view. She was his? Her already racing heart began to beat yet harder. She was Gray Skies; there was no point in denying it. His touch, his kiss, his very presence was all that she craved.

                Deniah drank a bit of the stew broth and her hungry stomach rumbled loudly. She wondered about the man who had died in Gray Skies’ arms. Who had he been? She wondered about her brother and father. Had they been buried? Did she truly care? She had a million questions to ask Gray Skies about what had happened, how he had found her and about their future.

                Her body felt increasingly weak as she finished her stew and sat the bowl aside. She was still shivering and her head swam with every tiny movement that she made. Deniah stoked the fire a bit to build the flames, wrapped herself tighter in the blanket and lay down on her side.

                She fell asleep with Gray Skies’ words echoing in her ears. ‘Because no other man can have you. You are mine.’

Chapter Twelve: Fever Fueled Delirium

Chapter Twelve: Fever Fueled Delirium

                Gray Skies was worried; no he was terrified. Deniah’s fever was high and her coughing and weakness did not bode well for her health. He could not lose her. Gray Skies knew how to boil willow bark to make a tea that would help with the fever but he was worried it would not be enough. He needed medicine blessed by Big Sky.

                It would take him at least two hours to reach the chief if he flew his fastest and he could only hope that the chief would give him the medicine he required for Deniah. Gray Skies knew he had no right to ask for it since he had chosen a pale-skinned woman over his own people but he was going to ask for it just the same.

                Gray Skies stripped from the wool trousers which were stiff and uncomfortable and felt the cool spring breeze blow across his bare skin. He focused on the crow and the change was nearly instant. Spreading his wings, he took off into the sky with the sun beating down on his sleek, black feathers.

                He flew hard and he flew fast. He did not want to leave his Fire Hair alone in that cave for any longer than he had to. They had been in that cave for two uneventful days but he still worried that someone would stumble upon them and without him there to protect her, Deniah was helpless.

                Gray Skies descended into the trees and landed on the forest floor just outside of the clearing the teepees were nestled in. He opened the chest that was sitting beside an oak. The chest was full of spare clothes for tribe members returning from the change. While nudity after a change was common among a tribe of shape shifters, Gray Skies wanted to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He had learned that his naked form tended to draw more than a few stares.

                Gray Skies slid into a soft pair of buckskin leggings, belt and breechcloth.  He tied the leather straps around his knees to help hold his leggings in place and then headed into camp. Attempting to stay near the edges and inconspicuous.  He let out a breath of relief when he made it Big Sky’s teepee without being noticed. Most of the men were gone from camp, probably out hunting, and the women and children were too busy with the crops, the cooking and the washing to pay any attention to him.

                Strangely enough when Gray Skies slipped beneath the flap and entered the old chief’s teepee, the man did not seem the least bit surprised to see him. 

                “Gray Skies, you are troubled.” The chief said quietly as he blew out the smoke from the pipe in his hand.

                “Yes,” Gray Skies replied as he sat across from Big Sky, crossing his legs and taking the offered pipe.

                “Is this about your pale woman?” Big Sky questioned, his sharp eyes watching Gray Skies knowingly from that wrinkled face.

                “Yes.” Gray Skies took a draw off the pipe and blew the smoke out slowly as he handed the ornate piece of wood back to his chief. “She has a high fever and a sickness in her lungs. I need medicine for her. Medicine you have blessed.”

                Big Sky sat the pipe aside and tapped his fingers on his knees as he studied Gray Skies thoughtfully.  “That is a large request, Gray Skies; one that you have no right to ask of me. She is not our kind and that medicine is made and blessed for our people.”

                Gray Skies tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I know that I have no right to ask this of you, Chief Big Sky.”

                “And yet you ask anyway?” the chief questioned, his voice amused.

                Gray Skies met his eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

                “This woman means this much to you? So much that you would risk further angering your people to have her?”

                “Yes.”

                Without another word Big Sky rose to his feet and walked to a small wooden box in the corner. His aged hands quickly drew out two small pouches. “Boil these in water and have her drink them. They will heal her body and drive the sickness from her.” Big Sky assured him as he turned back around and held out the pouches.

                Gray Skies felt his love for the old chief grow. “Thank you.”

                “Do not thank me, Gray Skies.” Big Sky laid a gnarled hand on Gray Skies cheek. “You are like a son to me. However decisions are not made by me alone and the other elders among are people—“

                “Do not agree with my choice,” Gray Skies finished. Big Sky smiled sadly.

                “Now you change and I will put these over your neck,” the chief ordered. Gray Skies was loathe to take off the comfortable clothing he was wearing, knowing that he would once again be forced to wear the wool trousers he had taken from the wreckage of the wagon. Then he thought of Deniah alone in that cave and he stripped and made the change faster than he ever had before.

                Big Sky crouched down and put the leather straps of the two small pouches over his neck. “Now go to her. “

                Gray Skies needed no further urging. He hopped out of the teepee and then spread his wings and escaped into the air, disappearing quickly into the low lying clouds.

                Gray Skies found Deniah sound asleep beside the dying fire where he had left her. Her breaths were shallow her face was drawn with pain. When he touched her brow he could feel the fever still raging in her blood.

                Gray Skies grabbed a tin cup he had also taken from the wagon wreckage and carried it to the swift moving stream at the back of the cave. He filled the cup then brought it back to the fire to make the first of the medicines. All he could hope was that Big Sky’s blessings would be enough. Losing Deniah would mean ripping out half of his soul.

---

                Deniah kept seeing flashes, nothing more than flashes, of Gray Skies. He looked troubled as he sat cross legged beside her. His head was bent, and his bare copper skinned chest was gleaming in the firelight.

                Deniah tried to reach for him, she wanted to ease the drawn expression on his face and take away all his worry; worry that she knew was for her. Movement proved impossible as it felt as if her body were being held down in a thick murky fog too cloying to even move through.

                Another image of Gray Skies flashed through her mind. He was chanting, his voice low and soothing. The words were beautiful though Deniah did not know what any of them meant. She could feel his hands caressing her skin.

                “Gray…” she whispered his name and then the world went black once again.

---

                Deniah had no idea how long it had been since she’d fallen asleep but as consciousness once again woke her she sat up quickly. Her body was still sore but not nearly as bad as it had been. She glanced around her and saw Gray Skies. He was lying on his side next to her and he was sound asleep with his head resting on his arm.

                Deniah had never seen him sleeping before and she soaked in the sight. He seemed so relaxed; so at peace. His long dark lashes were resting on his cheeks and his firm lips were parted slightly as he took steady even breaths.

                She was careful not to wake him as she lay back down slowly and let her eyes wander over his leanly muscled body. Gray Skies was truly the most perfect creature that God had ever created. The curves, lines and dips and the way his dark bronze skin that seemed to glow in the dying firelight were all perfection.

                Deniah reached out a hand and pressed her fingertips gently to his firm cheek. Instantly his eyes flew open and she found herself staring into their deep brown depths. “Deniah….” Her name left his lips as little more than a breathless whisper.

                “I feel much better,” she assured him, seeing the worry in his eyes. She could tell the fever was gone. She still felt the smallest urge to cough but there was no longer any pain in her lungs. “The medicine you got for me must have worked.”

                “The medicine had been blessed by Big Sky or it would not have worked so quickly.” Gray Skies admitted as he slid an arm around her waist and slid closer.

                Deniah felt her stomach flutter at his closeness. Never had she lay with a man this way. She could feel the warmth of his body and his breath washed over her face. “How long have I been asleep?” she asked.

                “I returned in the afternoon yesterday with the medicine and it is now nearing night.”

                “That long!?” Deniah exclaimed. “I am so sorry. You must have been so worried.”

                “Yes I was, Fire Hair.”

                Deniah smiled at the nickname. “Who is Big Sky?” she asked. She loved this closeness and the intimacy she felt lying with him this way. Their breath was mingling, their bodies were touching and Gray Skies was running his calloused fingertips up and down her arm.

                “The chief of my tribe.” Gray Skies replied and Deniah was surprised. He never opened up to her about his people. Deniah remembered the man who had been shot that day in the forest and she began to chew her lip.

                Gray Skies raised his hand to her mouth and pressed his fingers against her lips. Deniah could not breathe—not because his touch was rough but because it caused that tingling heat to spread from her lips down her entire body, even to her fingertips, before settling and swirling low in her stomach and between her legs.

                She saw his eyes darken just the way they had when he had kissed her—a kiss that seemed as if it had happened centuries ago. “You are chewing on your lip which means you have something on your mind. Why not simply tell me what it is and spare your beautiful lip the torture?”

                “You think I have beautiful lips?” Deniah asked, her voice muffled against his fingertips.

                He smiled. “Of course I do.” He removed his fingers from her lips and rested them on her cheek. “Now tell me.”

                Deniah suddenly didn’t want to. They were so close and so at peace in each other’s arms. She didn’t want to ruin this moment.

                “Fire Hair, what had you chewing your lip?” Gray urged, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t let it go until she told him. She glared at him. The man had always been bossy and when he knew something was bothering her he became a dog with a bone until he figured out exactly what it was.

                “The man—“she whispered, looking down at his chest instead of into his eyes. “The one that Matthew shot—who was he?”

                Deniah felt Gray Skies tense and several quiet moments ticked by before he sighed. “My brother, Bear Claw.”

                “Your brother?” Deniah felt tears filled her eyes and she clenched her fists tightly against the guilt she felt. “I’m so sorry.”

                “It was not your fault, Fire Hair. It was my fault and I must deal with the shame of that knowledge.”

                Deniah quickly looked up at his face once again and the pain she saw there broke her already damaged heart. “You cannot believe it was your fault!” she argued, pressing her hand to his cheek. His dark eyes closed as he breathed deeply. “Gray, it was my brother that pulled that trigger—“ Deniah’s voice broke. “You should hate me. If not for me then such a thing never would have happened.”

                “ Tla !” Gray Skies hissed as his eyes opened and burned with a fire as they stared into hers. “Hatred could never exist in my heart for you.”

                “Gray…” Deniah felt that heat building once again and wanted to kiss him. She wanted to know that he felt it too.

                “You are my heart and my soul, Deniah. You are my, Fire Hair, and you have been since I pulled you from that river.”

                Deniah had to be dreaming… this had to be a fever fueled delirium that she was living in right now. She had never thought of Gray Skies as more than a friend until a few weeks ago and now…. Now they were lying alone together in a cave beside a dying fire and he was telling her the words that every woman longs to hear from the man she loves—and Deniah did love him. She loved him with all of her heart.

                “Gray—“ She was cut off when he growled low in his throat and leapt to his feet. “What’s going on?” Deniah whispered, fear clogging her throat as he stared hard at the cave entrance and clenched his fists.  She wanted to push herself to her feet but her body was too weak and she was exhausted after merely sitting up.

                “Gray, what is it?” she asked again. He shook his head and said nothing. It was then that Deniah heard the footsteps on the leaves outside their cave; they were no longer alone.

Chapter Thirteen: I Fear For Your Eyesight

Chapter Thirteen: I Fear For Your Eyesight

                Gray Skies looked back at Deniah and knew his eyes would relay the message without his words helping. ‘Stay put’ . She nodded, though her gray eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty. He would have liked to have taken time to admire her, though her red hair was limp and lifeless, her skin pale, her freckles stuck out sharply and her clothes were stained and tattered. She was looking much worse for wear but the sight of her still caused an ache in his chest to hold her and protect her from all that would do her harm.

                But first he had to protect her from whoever was wandering around their cave. He had no weapon but that was nothing to be too concerned about. Gray Skies was the weapon. The souls of many dangerous creatures resided within him and merely a thought from him would bring about the transformation.

                Gray Skies moved silently as he stepped to the mouth of the cave and peered out. He was not sure whether to be relieved or alarmed when he saw Eagle Feather standing there with an angry expression on his face and a sack over his shoulder.

                “Why have you come here and how did you find me?” Gray Skies demanded.

                Eagle Feather adjusted the strap of the stack over his tunic and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Big Sky sent me. He told me where to find you.”

                Gray Skies did not ask how Big Sky had known where to look for him. Big Sky knew many things that no one could explain and everyone had learned long ago to simply accept that. “You did not answer my first question. Why are you here?”

                “Big Sky sent me.” Eagle Feather said again. He made a move to step around Gray Skies, clearly wanting to see inside the cave. Gray Skies moved with him, staying firmly in the way.

                “Why?”

                “To bring you this.” Eagle Feather slid the sack from his shoulder and tossed it to Gray Skies. “It is clothes and food,” Eagle Feather informed him as Gray Skies peeked into the sack. “And I added a knife as well.”

                Gray Skies looked at his friend in surprise. Before he could reply he heard a shuffling behind him and turned to see Deniah stepping out of the cave. She had the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and was leaning against the cave wall for support. He could see from here just how badly her body was shaking.

                He was angry that she had not stayed inside the cave but knew nothing could be done about that now. Instead he went to her and wrapped his arm tight around her waist, holding her up as she leaned against him.

                “Is this her then?” Eagle Feather asked, looking Deniah up and down.                   

                Gray Skies felt a jolt of jealousy that surprised him and nodded. “Yes, this is Deniah. Deniah this is Eagle Feather.”

                Deniah held out her hand and Eagle Feather appeared amused as he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Deniah.”

                “And you.” Deniah replied as she removed her hand from his and looked at Gray Skies with uncertainty.

                “What is it?” Gray Skies asked her quietly, his grip on her waist tightening. He had never once been around Deniah with other men around her, (other than her father and brother), and he did not like the feeling of jealousy swirling in his gut whenever Eagle Feather looked at his woman.

                “Do your people all speak English? I knew that you did but I suppose I never gave it much thought.”

                “Big Sky ensured we all learn the language and speak it fluently. It ensures that pale skins will not be able to trick us with slick words or documents.” Eagle Feather answered before Gray Skies could.

                “Oh.” Deniah’s response was quiet and she cuddled herself closer against Gray Skies’ body. “I suppose I should get back in and leave you both alone to talk.”

                “I will help you inside,” Gray Skies replied. He motioned for Eagle Feather to stay where he was and then turned and led Deniah back into the cave. He settled her on the blankets and then built up the fire to ward off any chill that was in the air.

                “Gray Skies, will your people accept a pale skin ?”  Deniah whispered. He chose not to answer as he poked at the woods, causing the flames to surge higher. “Gray—“ He glanced at her and saw her chewing furiously at her lip. That truly was a bad habit that he wished she would break—though it was adorably her.

                “That is not for you to concern yourself with now,” he warned gently before kissing her brow. “Your only concern is to get you well; as is mine. Now rest. I will see Eagle Feather off and return to you as quickly as I can.”

                Deniah mumbled an okay and Gray Skies quickly left the cave. He did not want her worried about acceptance when her body was so weak and fragile. He did not want her to know that they had nowhere to go. The pale skins would not accept the two of them together and the chances of his people accepted her were quite slim. Her having knowledge of those things would only cause her more worry which would hinder her recovery.

                “Did I trouble her?” Eagle Feather asked with a frown and Gray Skies simply shook his head.

                “She will be fine. I will care for her.”

                Eagle Feather sighed and tipped his head. “I will not pretend to understand, Gray Skies. I will not pretend that I understand why you chose her over someone of your own kind. I will probably never understand why you chose her over your own people—but what I do know is that you are a good man. We are brothers in spirit and I will stand behind you.”

                Gray Skies was touched more than he cared to admit by Eagle Feather’s words. He swallowed hard, nodded and held out a hand. “Thank you, Eagle Feather.”

                “You should have told me about her sooner,” Eagle Feather scolded as he clutched Gray Skies’ hand firmly.

                “I never planned on claiming her as my own,” Gray Skies admitted.

                Eagle Feather laughed and released his hold on Gray Skies’ hand. “If you want to hear the Great Mother laugh tell her your plans.”  Gray Skies nodded in agreement. “I will be leaving now. Take care of her and I will remember her in my morning prayers. She seems of great importance to you.”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies agreed and then he frowned. “Could you do one other thing for me?”

                Eagle Feather appeared suspicious. “What do you need?” he asked slowly.

                Gray Skies took the other man’s arm and led him a short distance from the cave. “Nearly two miles west of here is the place where Deniah’s family wagon went over the mountain. I assumed her family was dead though I did not check for my concern for her was too great—“

                “I will go check for you,” Eagle Feather promised. “What do you want done with them if they are dead?”

                Gray Skies knew they were dead—at least he hoped they were. Deniah did not deserve to be tortured by those men any longer. “Leave them to rot. My Fire Hair had many bruises from the fall but there were older bruises too.”

                Eagle Feather’s eyes flashed with anger. “They would dare put their hands on a woman in anger?” he hissed.

                Gray Skies simply nodded as his fists clenched tightly. Eagle Feather shook his head. “Pale faces will never cease to amaze me. They truly are the savages they claim our people to be.”

                “Not all pale faces are monsters.” Gray Skies countered as he thought of his woman currently sitting in the cave.

                Eagle Feather’s face softened. “No, perhaps not. Big Sky approves of you and the woman and I respect his opinion. If you ever come back to our people with your Fire Hair you will have our backing.”  Eagle Feather took several steps back and then stopped. “Does she know?” he whispered and Gray Skies  knew exactly what the man was asking.

                “Not yet.”

                “Are you going to tell her?”

                “I see no way around it. I will have to tell her our secret if I am to spend my life with her.”

                Eagle Feather rubbed at the back of his neck, the clay beads at the end of his braids rattled as he shook his head. “That is forbidden.”

                “I will take my chances.”

                “You always have been one to take chances,” Eagle Feather agreed. “I have scars on my leg to prove that.”

                “You are the one who chose to cross the log.” Gray Skies replied, a smile curving his lips as he remembered that day when he and Eagle Feather had been young boys. They’d wanted to hunt down the large buck that was rumored to live high in the mountains. That had been an unforgettable adventure and while they didn’t get the deer and had been punished soundly for sneaking off, neither man had ever forgotten those three days.

                “You are the one who insisted it was safe.” Eagle Feather reminded him. “That’s enough time wasted talking to you. I will go take care of that and get back home. You get back to your woman and tend to her. She looks quite bad. I trust she is more beautiful when returned to full health,” Eagle Feather grimaced. “If not then I fear for your eyesight.”

                “Get out!” Gray Skies grumbled, waving his hand and fighting back laughter. Eagle Feather laughed loudly.

                “I will leave but I will return as an eagle and fly by the entrance to the cave. You come out when I do and I will tell you what I find. I trust you do not want your woman to know?”

                “She has enough to worry about.” Gray Skies agreed.

                “Be safe, brother.” Eagle Feather urged and then he turned and walked away into the thick forest surrounding them.

                Gray Skies stood there for a moment. He was surprised by Eagle Feather’s acceptance. He had forgotten just how close they had once been. For so long Gray Skies had been keeping his people at arms-length because he had feared their reaction to Deniah—he had never in his wildest dreams imagined there would be those among them that would support the decisions of Gray Skies heart.

---

                Deniah could not do away with the tangled thoughts and dark truths that her mind kept replaying. She and Gray Skies would never be accepted. She had heard the tone in Eagle Feather’s voice when he had spoken of pale faces and she could still remember the disgust and rage in her father’s eyes when he had realized his daughter was in love with what he called a savage .

                It was a sad thing to realize that the world could turn its back on you simply because of who your heart chose to love. Deniah knew that Gray Skies loved her; it was obvious in the words he spoke, the way his eyes looked into hers and the softness of his touches. She loved him as well with everything that she had. Why was that not enough for both their worlds?

                Gray Skies was no savage, he was a good and decent man, and Deniah would never do anything to cause harm to him or his people.  Why could that not be enough?

                Deniah heard Gray Skies reenter the cave and she knew he would see the tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.

                His brown eyes filled with tenderness as he crouched down beside her and cradled her face in his hands. “What has you troubled?”

                “We have nowhere to go, Gray.” Deniah whispered. “No one will accept us.”

                Gray smiled and slid his thumb over her dry bottom lip. Deniah’s body moved on its own accord as it leaned in closer to Gray Skies and a moan left her throat. She saw his brown eyes darken but she also saw his body stiffen and those eyes fill with that calm self-controlled resolve that told her he wasn’t’ going to kiss her like he had before. She knew it was because her body was so weak and he worried for her health but she wondered if perhaps his kisses would not be better medicine than even what Big Sky had provided.

                “You do not worry about such things, Fire Hair. I have you and you have me. I will make certain you are taken care of. We have no need for the acceptance of others.”

                Deniah caught a scent when a breeze blew into the cave and it caused her nose to wrinkle and ruined whatever moment she had been sharing with Gray Skies. “Oh I smell horrible!”

                Gray Skies laughter filled the cave. It wasn’t often that he allowed him to laugh so openly and Deniah felt her spirit lighten at the sound. Her family was dead, she had nearly died herself, she and Gray Skies were homeless with nowhere to go and yet that simple sound made everything somehow seem okay.

                “You are perfect.” Gray Skies assured her as he moved away and set the pot of soup back onto the fire to reheat. He lifted the lid off the pot so he could stir the meal.

                “I am not, Gray! I smell much like…. dung .”

                “You have smelled better before, Fire Hair.” Gray Skies admitted teasingly as he came to sit beside her and crossed his legs. “In the morning I will take you to a spot in the river where there is a calm deep pool and allow you to cleanse yourself. It is too close to darkness now and you do not need to get chilled.”

                “I will not blame you for sleeping on the other side of the cave.” Deniah grimaced as she caught another whiff of her scent. Many days of no baths, hard traveling, sickness, fever and sweat had certainly taken their toll on her.

                “Tla .” Gray Skies replied with a grin. “I will sleep with you held in my arms just the way as we will sleep every night from here on.” Deniah was about to argue that her scent would kill him when his grin widened on his firm lips. “I must simply go the entire night with my nose plugged or else learn to not breathe.”  

                Deniah’s jaw dropped and she gasped. “You should not tease me so!”

                “I will tease you however I see fit.” Gray Skies countered.

                Deniah laughed and laid her head against his shoulder. She stared at the cave entrance and became lost in thoughts as she chewed her lip.

                “Where have you gone?” Gray Skies voice broke through her thoughts. “Your body is here but your mind has gone.”

                “I was simply wondering about my crow,” Deniah replied honestly without looking at him. “I wonder if he knows where I have gone.” 

                Gray Skies was quiet for a long moment and Deniah found herself sparing a glance in his direction. He was staring into the small flames of their fire and he sighed as he turned his head to look at her. “He knows where you are, Fire Hair. He is too fond of you to ever let you go.”

                Deniah felt that nagging, tingling suspicion once again enter her mind. That suspicion that Gray Skies was more than just a man—but surely that was insane was it not?

                Silence fell over them as they both became lost in their own thoughts. After a while, Deniah saw something rush past the dark cave entrance.

                “Gray Skies, something is out there—“

                She stopped speaking when she realized he was already standing and heading toward the entrance. “You stay here and stir our soup. Do not disobey this time,” he warned before slipping outside.

                Deniah grabbed the ladle and stirred their dinner, hoping whatever had been outside was not a threat. She and Gray Skies had had quite enough danger and close calls for a while.

---

                Gray Skies walked to Eagle Feather who had shifted back into a man and stood in the moonlight beside a pine. “What did you find?” Gray Skies asked.

                Eagle Feather shook his head. “There were no bodies and no graves, Gray Skies.”

                “Are you certain?” Gray Skies demanded, dread washing over him.

                “I am certain.” Eagle Feather assured him. “I checked well. It seems the men who hurt your woman are still out there somewhere. It looked as if someone came upon the wreck and took them away.”

                “Thank you, Eagle Feather.” Gray Skies whispered as he stared off into the night.

                “I am sorry my news was not better.” Eagle Feather admitted and then he shifted back to his eagle form and took off into the night.

                Gray Skies did not return to Deniah immediately. Instead he stared up at the sky and clenched his fists at his sides. As far as Deniah would know her family was dead. She was better off believing they were dead. They had never done anything kind or good for the woman and Gray Skies would not allow them to harm her again.

                Deniah belonged to him and he would protect her from everything in this world that would cause her pain. Gray Skies would defend what was his.

Chapter Fourteen: Memory Loss and a Burning Question

Chapter Fourteen: Memory Loss and a Burning Question

                The air left Matthew’s lungs in a rush as consciousness returned to him and pain returned with it. Never had he had a headache quite like the one he was experiencing. Not one single night of drinking at the tavern in town had ever caused this kind of throbbing, skull-piercing ache inside his head. What the hell had happened?

                The bed he was on didn’t feel right. Had he fallen asleep in town? It certainly didn’t feel like his lumpy mattress in the cabin loft. He moaned as he shifted and it caused the pain in his head and body to worsen and nausea to swirl in his gut.

                “I think he’s waking up.”

                Matthew’s eyes flew open at the sound of the unfamiliar female voice and he immediately regretted that as sunlight flooded his senses and caused the pain to intensify threefold. He gripped the sheets tightly in his fists and squeezed his eyes closed once again.

                “Get back, Jessica. Do not crowd the man. Head injuries can make a person act very strange.” a man warned.

                Matthew moaned in pain and frowned. Head injuries? When had he injured his head? The last thing he remembered was heading into town to get Deniah a sack of flour since he had spilled the last remaining flour she had in the dirt by accident—and he’d planned on getting that fabric he’d seen her eying the last time she’d gone to town in an attempt to help make up for his mistake.

                “Sir, are you okay?” that female voice spoke again. It was a pretty voice. Soft and sweet sounding.

                “Where am I?” Matthew whispered. His voice was hoarse and cracking and his throat felt tight and dry.

                “Open your eyes, sir, and take a drink of water,” the woman urged.

                Matthew opened his eyes much more slowly, allowing them to adjust to the change in light. “Close the curtain.” He rasped as sunlight assaulted him.

                Matthew heard heavy footsteps move across the floor and then the light was gone. Finally Matthew was able to clearly look around the room. It was a small room and he was lying on a narrow bed in the corner. There was a tall middle-aged man with a heavy build standing beside the now closed window curtain. The man had blue eyes which were studying Matthew carefully from behind a pair of spectacles.

                And then beside the bed was an angel—or at least the closest thing to one that Matthew had ever seen. She had big blue eyes, pink lips and golden hair that was all gathered back on her head. Her cheeks seemed to have a natural flush and she had the tiniest of clefts in her chin. A brilliant smile lit her face when she saw him look at her.

                “Finally!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth quickly with a dainty hand as Matthew winced. “I was quite worried. You’ve been unconscious a very long time,” she informed him in a much quieter voice.

                Matthew pushed himself up a little against the headboard, grunting with the energy it took to move his aching body. Pain shot through his leg and he looked down to see the brace on it.

“You broke your leg,” the woman said as she placed a glass of water against his lips.

                Matthew took several sips and then gently pushed her hand away. “Where am I? What happened to my leg?”

                “You’re in our home,” the man spoke up, drawing Matthew’s attention away from the angel’s face. He looked up at the man. “My daughter and I found you. Your wagon fell down a mountainside when the road gave way.”

                Matthew frowned. The road to town cut through the mountains, not over them. How would he have fallen off of one? “How long have I been here?”

                “Today is the fourth day.”

                “Four days?” Matthew demanded and then his breath left him in a rush as he squeezed his eyes shut tight against the pain in his head. Four days? His eyes opened again.  “My family will be worried—I need to get home to them.”

                The man and woman shared a look and the man shook his head warningly. “What?!” Matthew demanded.

                The angel laid a gentle hand on his forearm, which Matthew noticed, was bruised. “Sir, you weren’t alone.”

                “Yes I was.” Matthew argued. “I had just been going into town to get some flour and fabric for my sister….”

                “You are far from town. You were on the road to Cedar Hills,” the man informed him.

                Matthew frowned and shook his head, though he stopped that quickly when the throbbing in his skull intensified.

                “That doesn’t make any sense!” Matthew argued, wondering if these folks were crazy. “I live in a little cabin about three hours from Hopsend. I spilled my sister’s flour and I had to go into town to get more and I was gonna pick up fabric to make up for it since I’d been a bit of a knucklehead toward her lately. Me and pa had stopped harvesting early so I had plenty of time that afternoon…..”

                “Harvesting? Son, you do realize that it’s early spring don’t you?” the man asked skeptically as he pulled off his glasses and began cleaning the lenses on his shirt tails.

                “What?” Matthew had never felt more confused in his life. Spring? It wasn’t spring? What was going on?

                “Sir, it is April,” the woman stated very slowly as if she feared for his sanity. His sanity?! She was the one who believed it to be April when it was in fact late August.

                “It’s August! What are you people talking about?” Matthew demanded as fear worked its way down his spine.

                “Son, can I ask what year you think it is?”

                What year he thought it was? What kind of question was that? Matthew scratched at his head, wincing when he hit a bandage wrapped around it and sent a jolt of pain through his skull. “It’s 1847.” Matthew saw both of them frown and he frowned as well. “Is..Isn’t it?” he asked shakily.

                “Sir—“ the angel spoke and Matthew turned his gaze to her. Please let her tell him he was right! Dear God there was something very wrong with him if he’d gotten the answer to that question incorrect! He looked into those expressive blue eyes and she shook her head. “—it’s April of 1851. You hit your head quite hard…..”

                Matthew didn’t listen to anymore; he couldn’t. These people were crazy. This was crazy. It was August of 1847 and he had flour and fabric to buy! Deniah would be worried sick about him. Their pa wouldn’t, that man didn’t give a damn about Matthew, but Matthew knew his sister would be pacing the floors.

                He tried to throw his legs over the bed and the pain that shot through his body was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Nausea swirled in his gut and he vomited on the wooden floorboards as his vision went blurry.

                He heard voices calling to him, urging him to calm down but they kept sounding more faint and farther away by the second.

                Matthew collapsed against the bed and let the blackness swallow him down. Quite soon he heard nothing.

---

                “Gray, it’s beautiful!” Deniah exclaimed breathlessly as Gray Skies removed his hands from her eyes and she took in the sight of the thirty food waterfall and the sparkling pool of water below it.

                “You like it?” Gray Skies asked, sounding hopeful as he led her to the sandy bank at the edge of the pool. Tall pines surrounded them on all sides and the water flowed down a rocky river away from them.

                “I love it.” Deniah replied, gazing up at him. “This is truly beautiful. Thank you for showing it to me.”

                Gray Skies smiled down at her and kissed her brow gently. “I want to see you like this always.”

                “Dirty, smelly and covered in bruises?” Deniah teased. Gray Skies laughed lightly and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her body against his and laying his chin on her head.

                “Happy,” he amended. “Do you need help?”

                “Bathing?!” Deniah shook her head forcefully. “I can manage on my own. I would really like some privacy.”

                Gray Skies’ eyes looked down into hers and she could see his urge to stay with her. She doubted that it was to kiss her passionately or do the other things that men and women did together; her body was far too beaten and sore for anything of that nature.  She suspected he truly did simply want to help her.

                “You are tired from just the walk, Fire Hair. I will not take advantage; I only want to help you.”

                “And see me without my clothing?” Deniah gasped.

                Gray Skies’ brown eyes flashed and Deniah would have sworn there were flames in their depths. “That would certainly be an added incentive.”

                “Gray, please, just go somewhere and I will call for you when I’m done.”

                “Your track record in rivers is not good. What if you begin to drown?” Gray Skies teased as a grin pulled at his lips.

                “Then my ghost will save me I’m sure, just as he did the last time,” Deniah replied, placing her hand upon his cheek. “Besides—“ she removed her hand. “—I am a good swimmer now.”

                “Because I taught you.” Gray Skies grumbled and Deniah nearly laughed out loud at his pouting. She covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide her amusement.

                “Yes because you taught me. Nearly all my good memories have you in them.” Deniah was pleased to see the way Gray Skies’ face seemed to light up at her words. She had nothing to offer him but her love and she was glad that that appeared to be enough.

                “You will call to me when you are done,” Gray Skies insisted as he laid the sack with her clean clothes from Eagle Feather on the ground. “And if you hear anything that alarms you or need my help—“

                “I will call for you sooner,” Deniah finished for him. She waved her hand. “Now shoo—I am eager to wash this dirt and sweat from myself.”

                Gray Skies let out a long sigh and then turned his back and disappeared into the forest. Deniah waited until she was satisfied the man was gone before gingerly beginning to remove her clothes.

                Her body was still a bit sore and tender from her fall but mostly she simply felt weak and exhausted which she knew came from the sickness she was getting over, the stress of the couple days before the accident and the accident itself. Her body simply needed time to feel its best once again.

                She stood naked in the sunlight and looked down at the bruises and cuts marring her pale skin. Not a single part of her body was mark free. There were bruises and cuts on her legs, her stomach, her chest, her arms—she knew there were bruises on her face as well and they were all turning a nice shade of green with age. She did not want Gray Skies seeing her bare body like this the first time he gazed upon it.

                She grabbed a bar of soap that had also been in the bag Eagle Feather had brought them and slowly Deniah walked into the river and let her body sink into the pool of water in front of the waterfall. It burned her cuts but felt good enough that she couldn’t bring herself to care.

                Holding her breath, she sunk beneath the water and then popped back up, tossing her red curls back. Never had Deniah taken so much time to ensure she scrubbed every inch of her body clean. She wanted to make sure she smelled nice when Gray Skies held her tonight. Last night had been incredible.

                Deniah had never had a night where she had slept so peacefully or felt so safe as she had wrapped all up in Gray Skies strong arms. He had simply held her all night. Deniah did not know the details of what happened between a man and a woman, though she could remember hearing her parents moan as they held each other in their bed after they had believed their children were sleeping soundly.

                Deniah wanted to feel those feelings and do those things with Gray Skies but she was scared and nervous about taking that step. Would they marry? Could they marry? Did he want to marry her? Deniah began to chew on her lip and she saw a crow land in a nearby tree.

                “Mr. Crow?” she whispered as she used her arms to cover her bare breasts. Part of her knew it was crazy and yet part of her believed that Gray Skies was her crow. Was this him now? Had he turned into that much of a voyeur?

                “Gray Skies is that you?” she asked, a blush rising on her cheeks at the foolishness she felt asking a bird such a question. The crow let out a call but stayed where it was. “Was that a yes?”

                “Who are you talking to?” Deniah spun around and cried out with shock as she dropped down in the water, letting it cover her up to the neck.

                “Gray, you weren’t supposed to come back until I called!”

                “It’s been nearly an hour, Deniah, and I grew worried.” He glanced at the crow sitting in the tree and he smiled. “Were you talking to the crow?”

                “Yes I was.” Deniah replied, sinking deeper in the water and wishing to disappear.

                “Is that your crow?”

                “No. Now turned around so I can get out and dress.” She ordered sternly, waving her hand.

                Gray Skies turned without a word but Deniah was certain she saw his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She left the water with a splash and pulled a doeskin dress from the sack. She’d never seen something so simplistically beautiful. It was the color of freshly churned butter and sleeveless with long fringes hanging down the arms. There were painted clay beads of ever color strung on the leather fringes. The neckline was high but the dress was short and Deniah knew it would barely come to below her knees.

                She glanced in the sack for underclothes but there were none. “Um..Gray, what do I wear under the dress?”

                “Nothing, Fire Hair,” he replied and Deniah wondered why his voice sounded so tight and tense.

                “Oh,” she whispered. She slid the dress over her wet body and was thankful that it fit loose and didn’t hug her bruises too tightly. She was surprised when the dress felt to her mid-shin. She had not believed it would be that long. She pulled a pair of moccasins from the bag as well and slid them on her feet, marveling at their softness. There was a belt in the bag, made from a dark strip of leather with silver buckles and more painted clay beads adorned it. Deniah put it around her waist to cinch the dress in place.

                “I feel so exposed with no underclothes…. And you can see part of my leg and my arms are uncovered….”

                Deniah bit her lip and forced herself to stop rambling. She wanted to prove to Gray Skies she could live among his people. Complaining about the clothing would do nothing to help her mission. When he turned and she saw the warm expression in his brown eyes and happy smile that curved his firm lips, she forgot all about her own self-conscious worries.

                “You are beautiful, Fire Hair.” Gray Skies reached forward and grabbed a strand of her curls, twirling it around his finger. “When your hair dries I will braid it and you will look just like a Ghost yourself.”

                “Except for my pale skin,” Deniah whispered.

                Gray Skies put his finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “I care not what color your skin is. You are my Fire Hair and I will never let you go.”

                Deniah smiled at him and then flushed when she yawned. “I’m sorry!” she gasped but he was laughing quietly as he wrapped his arm around her and picked up the bag.

                “You are tired. Come and I will tuck you in for a nap.”

                Deniah let him lead her back toward their cave but there was something on her mind that she simply had to get off of her chest. “These bruises are sore,” she whispered. “I wish I healed as fast as you.”

                “What do you mean?” he asked without looking at her.

                “Your back. You had that terrible cut from falling , remember? And then the next day it was simply gone.” Gray Skies stopped walking so suddenly that Deniah would have stumbled and fallen if not for his grip on her.

                “Is there something you wish to ask me?” he questioned, his gaze going over her head instead of looking at her.

                Deniah let out a breath. “Do you promise you won’t laugh at me or call me insane for asking it?”

                “No.”

                Deniah chewed her lip and looked down at her moccasin-clad feet. “Gray, I’m confused…. My crow—I would swear that sometimes he’s more than just a crow. The morning after Matthew shot him I found you in the woods with a terrible wound on your back. Then when the wagon went over the mountain my crow was there—I know it was him—and I woke up in a cave with you.”

                “What do you want to know, Fire Hair?”

                Deniah swallowed hard and forced herself to look at his firm jaw. Her lip trembled with a mixture of nerves and uncertainty. She could not decide what she wanted his answer to her next question to be.

                “Gray—“ she paused and he turned his face, looking down at her with an intensity that nearly had her running away. Instead she squared her shoulders and forced herself to maintain his gaze. “—are you my crow?”

Chapter Fifteen: Always

Chapter Fifteen: Always

                Gray Skies stared down at Deniah with shock, dread and a terrible urge to lie. Would not a lie be simpler? With a lie he would not have to worry about seeing disgust or fear in her eyes. With a lie he could pretend to be a normal man and not worry that the truth about him would scare her into running away, back to her own people and normalcy. And if that’s what she chose to do would he allow her to leave him? Could he?

                All his life he had heard that the pale faces would curse his people as monsters and hunt them down like animals if they knew what they truly were. Would Deniah be the way he’d been warned? Or would his Fire Hair prove the elders and his people wrong?

                Was it worth the chance?

                Staring down into Deniah’s gray eyes, framed by those long lashes and bruises, Gray Skies knew he could not lie; not to her. She was far too important and meant far too much. If he lied and she found out the truth later, (and he knew she eventually would), then she would be hurt by his dishonesty. It was best to simply get this over now.

                He took a deep breath, willed his heart to stop pounding so forcefully against his ribs and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am your crow.”

                Gray Skies had always been able to read Deniah much like an open book. Her thoughts, her feelings and her emotions were always clearly displayed on her face and he appreciated that about her. He did not want a woman who wore a mask and hid herself away from him. But just now he was wishing she wasn’t quite so easy for him to read.

                Her emotions flashed across her face in such a jumbled, confusing mess that his own head swam. He saw fear, disbelief, shock, smugness and love all warring in those gray eyes. What he didn’t see was acceptance and when she took a step back he barely kept himself from calling out, grabbing her arm and yanking her back to him.

                “You…. What did you say?”

                Gray Skies threw his shoulders back proudly. “Yes, Fire Hair, I am your crow.”

                “But—Gray, how is that possible?” Deniah had moved away from him and now had her back pressed against a sycamore tree.

                “My people are shape shifters, Fire Hair. It is why we are so secretive and why no one has been able to drive us out.”

                Deniah closed her eyes and he saw her take several deep breaths. She was so beautiful in the clothing of his people that Gray Skies took a moment to admire her, hoping that would drive some of the worry from his mind. When her gray eyes opened once again and she looked at him, the fear in her eyes was gone. She still appeared very unsure and shocked but no longer afraid; he took that as a positive sign.

                “You’re telling me that all those times I saw my crow watching me and all those times my crow came when I was tired, stressed or sad—that was really you?”

                Gray Skies nodded as he reached his hand out and brushed his fingers against her cheek. His heart broke the tiniest bit when she stiffened. “Yes, that was me. I had to watch over you and keep you safe and I could not safely come to you as a man. You are all that matters to me.”

                Her gaze softened but she shook her head, “The owl?”

                “Was my brother.” Gray Skies took a deep breath against the pain of that wound. “He was not mean, he simply did not always approve of me spending time with you and you could sense his disapproval.”

                Deniah nodded slowly. “And all of your people can turn into birds?”

                “No—well yes, technically. Can we return to the cave so you can rest as I explain?”

                “Yes.” Deniah whispered. Gray Skies took her hand in his, though he noted that her palms were unusually damp and he knew that it was because of nerves. It made him wonder if he wouldn’t have been better off telling her a lie. He did not want his Fire Hair to be uneasy or nervous around him. They had known each other for eight years and had always been so at ease around each other; Gray Skies did not want to lose that.

                He led her back through the thick pines, sycamores and oaks toward their cave. The rocky cliff face stretched high above them as they made their way into the damp opening and back into the dark interior of the cave.

                The fire was nearly dead so Gray Skies busied himself, building that up after he had Deniah settled down on a blanket on the rock, dirt and leaf strewn cave floor.

                “My people were given the gift of changing shape by the great mother when she looked into the future and saw the hardships we would face. We were made different, stronger, and it is our duty to remain in our homelands; unchanged and untouched by those that would harm us.”

                “Like palefaces?” Deniah whispered, staring at her moccasin-clad feet.

Gray Skies nodded. “Yes and other tribes. But our people have been reduced to smaller numbers over the decades. Pale faces have taken their toll on our numbers.”

                “Can you become any animal then?”

                Gray Skies nodded as he settled down on the blanket in front of her and crossed his legs. “Any animal we have seen with our own eyes. Though there is one animal for every person that is easier than the rest. An animal whose soul blends with ours the simplest.”

                Deniah picked at the fringes on her sleeves and glanced at him. “And for you that animal is the crow?”

                A breeze blew into the cave, intensifying the flames of their small fire, and Gray Skies took a deep breath in. He had probably angered the spirits in his honestly toward Deniah but they would have to deal with what was and understand. Deniah was the woman he loved; the woman who was going to be at his side through this life and into the next. He would be honest with her despite who his honesty might anger.

                “Yes for me it is the crow.” Gray Skies looked into her eyes. “What are you thinking, Fire Hair?”

                Deniah bit her lip and let out her breath in a rush as she threw up her hands. “I have no idea what I’m thinking.”

                Gray Skies stood up and nodded. “I will give you time alone to think. I set some traps and I will go see if we will have fresh meat for dinner.”

                Deniah said nothing, merely stared into the fire and Gray Skies forced his legs to carry him from the cave. He headed in the direction of his traps knowing that she only needed time. His Fire Hair had the biggest and most accepting heart of anyone that he knew. She was able to see past flaws, oddities and what was proper, and accept people as they were. That was why even as a small child she had made friends with a savage ‘ghost’.

---

                Deniah had no idea what to think. Gray Skies was a shape shifter? He was her crow? True she had suspected it for a while but suspecting something and learning it to be truth were two different things.

                Technically her father had been right. Gray Skies was an animal—or at least he had the souls of them living inside of him. How was she supposed to feel about that?

                Too much. She had simply been through too much lately. Sharing fiery kisses with Gray, her brother killing his, being locked in the cellar, beaten by her brother, sold by her father, falling over a mountain, waking up in this cave, learning her family was dead, nearly dying of sickness herself—and now this?  It had certainly been a week of changes. Amazing highs and devastating lows now had Deniah unsure of anything.

                The only thing she could be certain of; the one constant that had never changed or wavered was the love she felt for Gray Skies and the love she knew he felt for her. She had lived longer with him in her life than she had without him. He had been there for her during every trial she had gone through and her truly happy times had been spent with him by her side—whether he had been man or crow.

                Deniah had no idea how long she sat there staring into that fire and thinking on her life. Sadness welling up inside of her at knowing her family was gone and happiness pushing its way in as well at the knowledge that she and Gray Skies were now truly together; the way they were meant to be.

                She wasn’t even aware that Gray Skies had returned until she felt his fingers in her hair. With a moan she leaned back against him as he crouched behind her and combed her hair out with his hands. She knew he was braiding it and she sat very still while his calloused hands deftly arranged her hair, securing it at the ends with a leather strip.

                Deniah reached back and pulled the thick braid over her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. She waited for him to speak but he did not. She leaned her back against his bare chest and she could feel his heart pounding. Was he nervous?

                Deniah glanced over her shoulder and saw the uncertainty in his deep brown eyes as he gazed at her. Realization dawned on her. He was worried she would reject him now that she knew the truth of what he was. Sometimes men and their foolishness amazed her to no end.

                “I love you, Mr. Crow,” she smiled, turning her eyes back to the fire and resting the back of her head against his shoulder. She felt him exhale deeply and his body softened, quickly losing the tension it had been holding. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight.           

                “And your crow loves you, Fire Hair. Much more than you could possibly realize.”

                Deniah felt her heart soar at his words. She nestled her body closer to his, marveling in his heat. She felt that tingling that seemed to come whenever Gray touched her. It was a delicious little tremor that began in her toes, pooled low in her stomach and spread all the way to the very top of her head. It made her feel more alive and aware than she had ever felt before.

                Gray Skies fingers traced a pattern on her bare forearm as held her tight. “We will have fresh rabbit with our corn cakes for our evening meal.” He informed her. She nodded, though honestly she could not have cared less about corn cakes and rabbits in that moment. She was too lost in the way it felt to be held so protectively by her ghost.

                “Gray?”

                “Yes?”

                “Can you show me?”

                “Show you?”

                “Yes…. Show me how you change?”

                Laughter rumbled in Gray Skies’ chest. “Maybe someday. It is not a pleasant thing to watch and I’ve angered the spirits enough for one day.”

                “You weren’t supposed to tell me?” Deniah asked as she bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to get him in trouble!

                “They will have to get over it,” Gray Skies stated as he rested his chin on her head. “You are my woman and I will have no secrets about myself that I keep from you.”

                “There is only one promise I want from you,” Deniah said as she turned her head and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed her brow.

                “What is that?”

                “That you will hold me like this always.”

                Gray Skies gave her lips a tender kiss that sparked that flame and gave her a glimpse of the fire of the passionate kisses they had shared before. He pulled his lips away slowly and laid his forehead against hers. “Always.”

Chapter Sixteen: Four Years….Gone?

Chapter Sixteen: Four Years…. Gone?

                Matthew groaned as he once again felt the pounding in his head begin, though it wasn’t quite with the same intensity as it had been before—how long ago had before been?

                He slowly opened his eyes and realized that it was nearly completely dark outside and he was happy for that. It kept the light from blinding his eyes and increasing his headache.

                Glancing around the tiny room, lit by a single lamp on the table beside the bed, Matthew realized he was alone. The small chair beside the bed was empty and the only thing leaning against the far wall was a rickety wardrobe with crooked doors.  Where was he?

                Matthew closed his eyes again and wracked his brain in an attempt to remember. The image of a golden haired angel with expressive blue eyes and an innocent smile filled his memory but was quickly erased when he remembered what that angel, and the big bellied man who had also been in this room with her, had told him.

                It was April of 1851…. Normally a date wasn’t something to be bothered by except that the last memory Matthew had was of heading to town in August of 1847. That was four years! Four years of his life simply gone. Where was his father? Where was Deniah? Was his baby sister okay? Though she wouldn’t be much of a baby anymore—she would be 16 now and possibly looking at marriage…..

                Matthew’s fists clenched as he imagined some man courting his innocent sister. He had to get home… were they waiting for him? If they were then he knew Deniah would be pacing the floors; she had always been the type to worry over the men in their lives. Ever since their mother had died she had taken on the role of the only woman in the house.

                Matthew knew he didn’t make it easy on her. He liked to stay out too late and drink too much. And their father ignored her most days despite her efforts to garner his attention. Deniah deserved better than the two of them.

                He opened his eyes again when the sound of the door opening reached his ears.  There she was; the angel. Her slender body was all wrapped in faded blue gingham, her golden hair was only half up today and long swirling tendrils of it fell over her shoulders. Her face was so innocent and flawless save for a long thin scar on her left cheek that he somehow had not noticed before.

                “You’re awake!” she exclaimed happily as a bright smile lit her face and curved her full cheeks.

                “Yeah,” Matthew agreed. “I think I might make it after all.”

                “I brought you some broth. My papa said it would be best for you to get this down before you try a real meal.”

                Matthew’s stomach rumbled in argument, craving something a bit more filling than broth. “That’ll be just fine, ma’am.”

                She smiled and a blush colored her cheeks as she moved to the bed and sat the bowl down on the tiny table. “Please call me Jessica.”

                “That wouldn’t be very proper,” Matthew countered as he struggled to push himself up against the headboard. Jessica’s hands were suddenly on his sides and helping to hoist him up. Matthew felt his mouth go dry.

                Her face was so close to his own and she smelled like wildflowers.

                She didn’t seem to notice the effect her nearness had on him as she went about adjusting the blankets over his lap and then breezed away. As Matthew took the bowl she offered him, he was embarrassed to find his hands were shaking. Dammit but this woman was having one hell of an effect on him.

                “Your hands are probably shaking because your body is weak. You’ll build up your strength.” Jessica assured him.

                “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” Matthew lied. It wasn’t weakness in his body that caused his hands to shake. No, his hands were shaking because this woman’s innocence and natural beauty had him nervous as hell.

                Matthew sipped the steaming, richly flavored broth and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Did you cook this, ma’am?” he groaned before quickly sipping down more.

                She smiled proudly and fiddled with the cream colored apron tied around her tiny waist. “Yes, I did. Papa always says I have a knack for cooking. And if you insist that you cannot call me Jessica then call me Miss Bailey. Ma’am makes me sound old.”

                “Yes, ma’am…. Miss Bailey.” Matthew amended with a tip of his head when she glared at him. She smiled once again.

                “You seem to be feeling much better today,” she observed as she sat down in the chair beside the bed.

                Matthew took another deep drink of broth, and then settled the bowl on his lap before swiping his arm over his mouth. His face was in bad need of a shave he realized and he could smell the scent of stale sweat clinging to his skin and clothes. “Is it really April?” he asked quietly, his gaze going out the window to the darkening sky.

                Jessica sighed. “Yes.”

                “Why can’t I remember the last four years?”

                “My papa said the hit to your head is probably what took your memory from you.”

                “Will it come back?” Matthew croaked, his throat tightening. Knowing that four years of his life had come and gone and he couldn’t remember a single second of it was taking a toll on his mind and emotions.

                A gentle hand was suddenly laid against his forearm and Matthew swallowed hard as he stared down at that pale skin pressed against the sun-tanned skin of his own arm. He also noticed a scar on his arm, one he couldn’t remember getting—a souvenir from the last four years?

                “I don’t know if it will come back but we will help you in any way we can. I will help you,” Jessica looked at the empty bowl. “Since you kept that down, how about I got get you some crackers?”

                “I’d like that real good, Miss Bailey.”

                Matthew watched Jessica leave the room and then threw the sheet off of himself. He was wearing a pair of stiff, stained trousers with the right leg ripped away to make room for the splint that ran from his ankle to his mid-thigh. He was in a lot of pain but it wasn’t as bad as it had been the last time he’d been conscious.

                Footsteps neared the room and Matthew knew instantly that it wasn’t Jessica. They made a resounding thud each time they fell on the worn floorboards. The heavyset man with glasses stepped in the room with a smile on his mustached face.

                “My daughter tells me that you’re feeling quite a bit better.”

                “For a man who has no clue what’s happened in the last four years,” Matthew nodded. “I feel real good.”

                The man gave him a sympathetic smile and then lifted a black leather satchel. “I’m going to check you out, young man.”

                Matthew nodded and adjusted himself against the headboard. “My name’s Fred Bailey. I’m a retired doctor and it’s lucky it was me and my daughter that found your wagon or you may not have made it. We were returning home from a shopping trip to Cedar Hills.”

                Matthew simply nodded again and watched the doctor remove a stethoscope. He prayed there weren’t any needles in that bag that this good doctor planned on sticking in him. He would need a few shots of whiskey before he could stand something like that.

                “You aren’t speaking much,” Fred noted. “How is your head?”

                “Not hurting me near as bad, sir.” Matthew replied respectfully. His papa had beaten respect into him from an early age. Though Matthew was happy to take the punches, the harsh whippings, the beatings and the curse words just so long as that saved Deniah from experiencing them. Their pa was careful to keep his daughter from seeing the uglier side of himself but Matthew knew that side all too well. It was reason he liked to drink so much when he got the chance to let loose in town. It helped him unwind, forget and relax.

                Matthew was sixteen now and getting real sick and tired of…. Shit! He wasn’t sixteen! If it was April of 1851 then he had turned twenty two months ago. He was a twenty year old man… hell that was something he hadn’t thought of.

                “I’m glad it’s feeling better. Maybe soon that memory will start coming back.” Fred said with a warm smile. “Now I’m gonna check that heart beat out for you.”

                Matthew watched him stick the ear buds of the stethoscope into his ears and then he pressed the metal circle part to Matthew’s chest. Matthew could feel the chill of it through his shirt and he gasped through his teeth.

                Fred chuckled, “Guess I should have warned you that it’d be cold.”

                Matthew relaxed as Fred listened to his heartbeat and then Matthew smiled when Jessica stepped back into the room. She returned his smile and Matthew felt his heart beat kick up a notch….. and Jessica’s father noticed the change too.

                Matthew quickly glanced at the man and saw the protective gleam enter his eyes as he shook his head but didn’t say a word. Matthew swallowed hard and looked away.

                 “I brought your crackers, sir,” Jessica said as she stepped to the bed and held out a tiny china plate full of crackers. Matthew took the plate, nearly dropping it before setting it down on his lap.

                “Thank you, Miss Bailey, and please call me Matthew.”

                “That’s hardly proper,” she countered teasingly as she pushed several strands of loose hair behind her ear.

                Matthew’s smile grew. “Mr. Williams then. Sir makes me sound old.”

                “As you wish, Mr. Williams.”

                Matthew was lost in the sight of those sparkling blue eyes flickering in the glow of the lamp light when suddenly his good knee was stuck sharply and his leg jerked off the bed. His gaze flew to Fred and he glared at the older man. “What the devil was that for?!”

                Fred sniffed, dropped the wooden mallet back into the satchel and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “Just checking your reflexes,” he assured Matthew but Matthew could hear the warning in his tone. Fred pushed himself up out of the chair. “You seem to be on the healing side. Tomorrow we’ll move you to a wheelchair so you can get out in the sun a bit and we’ll see about getting you a bath because you stink to high heaven.”

                Matthew leaned down and sniffed his underarm, curling his nose and nearly gagging when he realized just how badly he truly did stink. “Thank you, sir.”

                “Sir is what you’ll call me while you’re here, Matthew. Go on Jessica and give the man some peace.” Fred warned his daughter. Jessica gave her father a guilty grin and then quickly fled the room. Matthew’s eyes watched her leave and then widened when Fred’s big belly was suddenly thrust into his line of vision.  “You’ll not be trying to woo my daughter,” Fred grumbled. “She’s all I’ve got and she deserves better than a brain addled man who can’t even remember what year it is. She’s going to marry a wealthy man and never have to work another callous onto her palms and I’ll see that it happens if it’s the last thing I do.”

                “How do you know I’m not wealthy?” Matthew asked, his temper rising. He’d always had a bad temper but he could generally keep a good control over it just so long as he wasn’t drinking. Drinking tended to bring out the worst in him.

                Fred chuckled humorlessly. “Call it a father’s intuition. Now you focus on getting better, that leg’ll need a good month to heal properly, and then you’re out of here. Keep your hands off my daughter unless you want me to break the other leg.”

                Matthew had no doubts this big bastard could do just that. He shook his head and relaxed it against the headboard as his eyes slipped closed. “I’ll stay away from her, sir. Hell I just wanna go home…and hopefully find that home is still there.”

Chapter Seventeen: Denying Urges

Chapter Seventeen : Denying Urges

                Gray Skies smiled as he and Deniah walked to the river hand in hand. It had been two days since he had admitted to her what he was and she finally seemed to be gaining her strength back. Those bruises and cuts still marred her skin but they were healing and in time they too would disappear. Gray Skies would ensure that no one ever bruised her flesh again.

                “I love doing this every morning.” Deniah said with a smile and Gray Skies squeezed her hand. They were heading to the river to do the morning prayers with the sunrise. It was something his people did every morning and Deniah had asked to take part the morning after Gray Skies had told her what he was.

                “Thank you for doing this with me, Fire Hair.”

                “Gray, I want to be by your side forever and I want you and your people to love me. I want to be one of you as much as I can be. I want to learn all I can and make you proud.”

                Gray Skies heart swelled with pride and love so deep that he was sure both emotions would be pouring from his eyes as he gazed down at her, “I could never be less than proud of you, Fire Hair. You will make a fine Cherokee Ghost.”

                Deniah smiled back up at him and he kissed her brow. It hurt his heart to know that her dream was to be accepted by his people. He did not even know if he would be welcome back after what he had done. He had chosen Deniah over them when given the choice and he had went against the laws of their people and told someone (a paleface no less) the secrets of their people. There was a good chance that if he ever returned he would be stoned to death, or at the very least shunned.

                They made it to the river and shed their moccasins. Gray Skies shed his leggings as well, leaving him clad in only his breechclout. He saw Deniah’s eyes trail across his body and instantly his blood began to heat.

                Gray Skies forced himself to push such urges aside and focus on the prayers he needed to say. He had angered the spirits enough lately; missing his prayers to satisfy his flesh would do nothing to ease their animosity.

                Gray Skies stepped into the water first, letting the cool current wash over his ankles and shins. Deniah followed closely behind him and he turned to face east while she copied his movements.

                Gray Skies began the chant, praying to the seven directions, the points, the sky, the earth and the center—the Great Spirit—the creator of man. He gave thanks for the new day and ended his chanting prayers by sticking his hands into the water and washing away the dirt.

                It was customary to remove every article of clothing and bathe yourself in the water to cleanse all bad feelings and emotions from your body but Gray Skies knew that Deniah would not wish to do that—not until she was healed and became comfortable showing him her body. Gray Skies hoped the spirits would understand and not hold such things against them.

                As they left the water and stood barefoot on the bank Gray Skies once again let his eyes wander to Deniah’s body. She was beautiful. Every inch of her was lush, full curves and softness. She had a long graceful neck, and those soft lips of hers seemed to be begging for his kiss as they parted slightly and her pink tongue darted across them.

                Gray Skies let out a growl and slid one hand behind Deniah’s neck before pulling her closer to him. He let his eyes leave the sight of her waiting lips and look into her gray eyes which were dark as storm clouds as they gazed at him.

                Gray Skies had been using all his willpower to let her body heal the last few days and keep himself from loving her the way he so desperately wanted to but he knew he could not keep himself from kissing her right now. His lips took on a mind of their own as they sought Deniah’s and devoured her sweet taste.

                Instantly Deniah’s body molded against his own as she purred in the back of her throat and wrapped her arms around her neck. There was a fire in the woman, a passionate fire that Gray Skies knew burned only for him, and he wanted to let those flames consume him.

                Gray Skies deepened the kiss running his tongue against Deniah’s and feeling her own tongue battle against his. He quickly showed her who was dominate and pulled his mouth away, taking his lips on a heated journey across her jaw and down her trembling throat.

                “Gray….” She gasped as he lipped and nipped at her ivory skin.  His hand went to her braided hair and his fingers buried themselves in those thick strands at her scalp.

                He was lost in her. The taste and scent of her skin was as intoxicating to his blood as the firewater that the pale faces referred to as whiskey. He gripped her head tighter, as his lips moved back to hers. He was hungry for her and longed to get closer. He wanted to taste more, feel more, bury himself deep inside her body and…..

                She winced and a whimper left her lips. Instantly Gray Skies pulled away and drew back his hand when he realized that in his lust fueled haze he had pressed his fingers too roughly against the healing welt from her fall beneath her hair.

                “Fire Hair, please forgive me,” he pleaded as he took a step back and fisted his hands at his sides and waited for her to open her eyes.

                “If you continue to stop kissing me I am going to grow offended,” Deniah whispered as she brought the fingertips of one hand to her lips and looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

                “I hurt you. I never want to hurt you.” Gray Skies felt guilt fill his heart at the knowledge that he had put his own needs ahead of Deniah’s healing.

                “Gray, I am fine.”

                “There are those words again. That simple sentence that tells me you are not fine.”

                Deniah sighed and her shoulders fell. “Yes, you hurt my head but that doesn’t mean we have to stop—“

                Gray Skies stepped closer and Deniah stopped speaking instantly when his hand brushed her cheek. “Deniah, I have wanted to have your body for a very long time and I will not have our first time together tainted by your pain.”

                “Yes but a kiss…”

                “I am not satisfied to only kiss you. Your kisses light a fire in my blood that I will not be able to continue to put out.”

                He saw her blush at his honesty and the gruff tone in his voice. His Fire Hair was innocent in all ways and he wanted to teach her the pleasure that a man could give a woman but he wanted to wait until her body was well enough—Gray Skies was not known as a gentle lover. He was a man who ensured the woman with him found her pleasure while taking his own greedily.

                Her teeth chewed on her full bottom lip and she looked down at his feet. “How much longer will you make me wait, Gray?” she asked softly.

                Gray Skies felt his body respond to the innocence of her question and a growl formed in his chest and rumbled up his throat before leaving his mouth. “Until you are more healed,” he ground out. His eyes took in the bruises still marring her face and the cuts on her arms. She needed time to heal and he would give it to her no matter how badly he wanted to her now.

                Deniah let out a frustrated grumble and turned on her heels. She stooped to grab her moccasins and then strode off through the trees. Gray Skies stared after her with shock. She was angry. He had seen her throw such fits before but he had certainly never expected her to throw one over this! He was looking out for her and waiting to make things easier for her! A woman’s first time pained her even when her body was not covered in welts, cuts and bruises! He did not want to cause Deniah added pain when they lay together for the first time—he only wanted to show her earth quaking pleasure like she had never experienced before.

                “You are angry,” he stated as he took several long strides to catch up with her and then matched their paces.

                “Of course not.”

                “Yes you are. Why?”

                “I am not angry.”

                “You’re not?”

                “No, I’m…. I’m.. .I honestly do not know what I am! I am hot and trembling and my body aches for something even though I am not entirely certain what that something is. I want to kiss you again. I want to feel your lips on me again. I want to feel your body pressed against mine again. Yet all you say is, ‘we have to wait’ ! I do not wish to wait any longer, Gray!”                

                Gray Skies did not mean to laugh but the sight of red face, her clench fists and the frustration in her eyes as she tried so desperately to understand what the desire coursing through her was had laughter bubbling out of him and bursting from his mouth.

                “Gray! You should not laugh at me so!” Deniah scolded as she stomped her foot. It was not often that Deniah got in a mood to stomp feet and throw fits but clearly she was in one of those moods today. Gray Skies had always found this side of her to be humorous and so the stomping of her foot merely had him laughing harder.

                Deniah crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, though he noticed that the corners of her lips were twitching with an urge to curve. “May I ask what you find so funny about my suffering?”

                Suffering? Gray Skies shook his head and tried desperately to quell his laughter. This woman had no idea what true suffering was. He had been craving for her to be his for years. He was the one truly suffering with her closeness now!

                Gray Skies reached out and pulled her gently against his body, resting her head against his heart. “Fire Hair, there is nothing I want more than to love your body and teach you what those feelings are but I will wait until my touch no longer pains you.”

                “Gray….”

                “ Tla! ” Gray exclaimed gently as he pressed a tender kiss to her hair. “No more arguments.”

                Deniah pulled away from him and adjusted the belt around her waist. “Fine. I will go back to the cave and you can go check your traps.”

                “I am not allowed to return with you?” Gray Skies asked as grin curved his lips.

                Deniah shook her head and tossed her braid over her shoulder. He loved that she was feeling well enough to tease and laugh with him. It did his heart good to see her happy. “No. If you insist on refusing me what I truly want today then I demand you go and return with some fresh meat for our meal.”

                Gray Skies laughed. “Are you giving me orders now, Fire Hair? That is not how these things work.”

                “Oh I believe it is exactly how this thing—“ she pointed back and forth between them with a smile lighting up her face. “—is going to work. Now off with you.” She waved her hand for emphasis.

                “At times you are a very sharp pain in the backside, woman,” Gray Skies grumbled, though his smile contrasted with the mood he was desperately trying to portray.

                Deniah turned her back to him and then glanced over her shoulder. “Yes well, you chose me.” She reminded him before heading off toward the cave face in the distance.

                Gray Skies did not look away until he saw her safely enter. He had not told her about the choice his people had given him and so he knew that she did not realize just how true her words were.

                Gray Skies had chosen her and he would do anything , including deny the urges of his body (and hers) until she was more able, and check traps for fresh meat simply because she had told him to, in order to see her taken care of.

Chapter Eighteen: A Painful Past

Chapter Eighteen:  A Painful Past

                Two days. Matthew had been fully conscious and awake for two days and still he remembered nothing about the last four years. He had struggled to remember anything, even the smallest flicker of what his life had been, and it would not come.

                He was sitting on the porch in his wheelchair with his right leg propped out on a wooden sawhorse. It was midmorning and beautiful of course. The grass and the freshly bloomed trees were heavy with dew.  Jessica was out in the yard in that blue gingham dress with tiny white flowers covering it. She was hanging wet clothes on a line and casting glances and shy smiles his way every few minutes.

                Matthew had to admit that this memory loss would be harder to cope with if not for having such a pleasant nursemaid. She made his meals, helped him into his chair every morning and back into bed at night. Matthew had begged for whiskey the first night he’d been awake here to help him deal with the pain in his head and leg. Fred had simply shaken his head and gone to bed but Jessica had come into Matthew’s room once Fred was asleep and while she had refused to get him the whiskey he craved she had sat by his bed and read to him for hours.  

                Matthew had forgotten all about whiskey and pain as that soft, angelic voice had read him tales of journeys in far off places. He hadn’t even paid much attention to the words she said; instead he had gotten lost in the soft tones, the lilts, the gentle rhythms of her voice.

                She was an angel—he longed for her to be his angel.

                But then there was her father. Matthew heard his heavy footsteps behind him as the man stepped out onto the porch. “I sure hope you’re sitting out here taking in the scenery of the mountains and not anything else.” Fred warned.

                Matthew had gotten tired of the threats and warnings but he was used to them. His pa had loved using threats and warnings to get what he wanted. Now and then the man had beaten Matthew even after Matthew had obeyed him just to show the boy he could.

                “Yes sir.” Matthew mumbled. “The scenery around here is beautiful.”

                Jessica chose that moment to look up and grace him with another smile. Then she saw her father and quickly looked back down as a guilty blush colored her face and neck.

                Fred grunted. “Boy, I think it’s time you and I talk about something serious.”

                “I’m keeping my distance from your daughter, sir.”

                “No, not that. It’s something we probably should have told you sooner but after your episode the first time you woke up, I wanted to make sure you were a bit stronger before I told you,” Fred pulled off his glasses and began to clean them on his sleeve.

                Matthew felt a bit of unease wash over him. “What is it?”

                “When my daughter and I found your wagon over that mountainside you weren’t the only person who had been on it.”

                Matthew swallowed hard and his fists clutched the arms of his chair. “I wasn’t?” he asked tightly, staring off into the horizon but not truly seeing anything.

                “No. But the other man was not as lucky as you and I couldn’t save him. He had a mole on his cheek and graying hair. He seemed to be a little more than middle-aged. Honestly he looked quite a bit like you from what we could tell though he was a bit skinnier….”

                The doctor continued to speak but Matthew had stopped hearing him. His father. His papa. The monster who made his life unbearable. The man who beat him, put him down, ran him into the ground and let him know what a worthless nobody he was—the man who always thrown it in his face that Matthew had been the one to bring the sickness home that had killed his own beautiful mother—that man was dead. Gone.

                Why at twenty years old had Matthew been on a wagon with that bastard and heading to Cedar Hills? Why hadn’t he left that house and that abuse before then?

                The answer to that was obvious. Deniah. She must still live at home and Matthew had still been there to look out for her and keep her safe from their father.

                Deniah! She must be at the cabin all alone. She was probably worried sick about them! Matthew cursed under his breath and fidgeted in his chair. Damn broken leg! He needed to go back to his sister.

                “Calm down there, boy. Do you know who the man was?”

                Matthew rubbed at his freshly shaven face and winced when he struck the welt above his eye. Tears filled his eyes and clogged his throat though they weren’t from physical pain. They were from a pain so deep it nearly left him unable to breath. He blinked back those tears and nodded, “Yeah, from what you described it sounds like it was my father.”

                Fred’s eyes widened before filing with sympathy. “I’m real sorry.”

                “Thank you, sir,” Matthew acknowledged with a nod. “But it’s no great loss to be honest. I’m awful worried about my sister though.”

                “We didn’t find anyone else at the wreckage,” Fred assured him.

                “Naw, I reckon pa would have probably kept her at home to tend to things. She’ll be awful worried now that we aren’t coming home.”

                “You are going to need a good month before you can travel anywhere,” Fred warned. “But I got some paper and a pencil if you’d like to write her a letter. I’d be happy to run it to town for you. Grady is only a couple hours away.”

                Matthew nodded, “ Thank you, sir.”

---

                Matthew sat in the bed that night, alone in his tiny room, and stared down at the paper resting in his lap. The oil lamp burning on the table cast its light over dozens of crumpled sheets littering the floor. Matthew had started his letter to Deniah over and over only to realize that there was no way she could read his handwritings and misspellings and toss them to the floor.       

                He began to beat the back of his head lightly against the wall behind him out of frustration.

                “Are you hitting your head in hopes of jarring your memory back or do you have some other mysterious reason?”

                Matthew smiled at the sound of Jessica’s voice, though he kept his eyes closed, “I figured it was worth a try.”

                “Well stop that now,” Jessica scolded and Matthew did as she said and opened her eyes to see her in her white nightdress with a pink satin robe tied around her. Her golden hair was loose and flowing around her face and Matthew knew he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

                Jessica settled herself down in the chair beside the bed. “Are you alright? My father told me that he told you about the other man on the wagon.”

                That pain filled Matthew’s heart again. He felt foolish for being sad over the death of his father. That man had hated him. He had hated the very air that Matthew breathed. Matthew had always tried so hard to earn his father’s love growing up but even as a small boy Jonathon had not given him one scrap of affection or love. The whippings, the beatings, the smacks and the name-calling had always been there but the death of Matthew’s mother from the fever Matthew himself had carried home had caused them to increase ten-fold.

                Jonathon stopped slapping and began punching and kicking. Matthew had often had bruises beneath his clothes. So it wasn’t the loss of that that had Matthew sad; it was knowing that no matter what, Matthew would never hear his father say he loved him. He would never see a look of acceptance in the man’s eyes as he looked at him. He’d never get that pat on the back that told him he was alright.

                “Oh, Matthew, I’m so terribly sorry!” Jessica exclaimed. She leapt forward and threw her arms around his neck, while laying her head on his chest. “I can’t imagine how you must feel! You’ve lost four years of your life and now your father on top of that.”

                Matthew put one awkward arm around Jessica and patted her back gently. He’d never had a woman this close—at least he didn’t think he had. Of course now that he was a twenty year old man he figured there’d probably been at least a couple of women. But Matthew didn’t remember them. All he knew was this was the first time, in his memory, that he’d held a woman, other than his sister, in his arms this way.

                “It’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Miss Bailey,” he whispered, hoping the good doctor wouldn’t walk in and see this. Matthew wasn’t in any hurry to have two broken legs.

                Slowly Jessica pulled away and sat back down in her chair, smoothing her hair and staring awkwardly at her hands. Her eyes were drawn to the papers crumpled in the floor and she looked back at Matthew and smiled, “Are you having a bit of trouble with your writing?”

                Matthew sighed and shifted himself on the bed, wincing at the pain in his leg; that ever present pain that was beginning to fray his nerves. “Yeah, I’m trying to write a letter to my younger sister to let her know what’s happened but I’m not real good at writing I’m afraid. I didn’t finish school because I couldn’t see any need in it. Now I’m wishing I’d have paid a bit more attention.”         

                “You don’t know how to read or write?” Jessica asked with a frown and Matthew blushed with shame.

                “I can read just fine!” he assured her defensively. Then he sighed, “But I ain’t much at writing. I can do it but I misspell just about every word and my handwriting isn’t all that pretty.”

                Jessica smiled comfortingly and took the paper and the book from his lap. She held out her hand for the pencil. “How about you tell me what you want to say and I can write the letter for you?”

                “I’d be obliged if you could do that for me, Miss Bailey,”

                Her face brightened with a smile, “I do wish you would call me Jessica.”

                “Miss Bailey, I don’t think your father would approve of that.”

                Jessica sighed. “No, I suppose you’re right.” She took the pencil from Matthew’s outstretched hand. “Now what would you like me to write?”

                Matthew laid his head back against the wall and sighed. “Dear Deniah, I got a new friend of mine to write this letter since I knew you’d have trouble reading anything I wrote. I know how you love to tease me about my ‘chicken scratch’ as you call it. I want to let you know that I am okay. I’m not sure how long papa and I have been gone and I know you’re probably worried sick about us. There was an accident on our way to Cedar Hills and you may want to make sure you’re sitting down before you read the next part of this letter,” Matthew paused and watched Jessica’s hand moving effortlessly across the paper in her lap as she gracefully penned his words. “Papa is dead and I’m hurt and laid up with a nice family that’s taking care of me. It’ll probably be another month before I can head back home. I hope you’re okay. I have some other bad news but it can wait until I get home. Remember I got a spare gun in my dresser drawer if you find yourself needing it and there’s money hid up under the third beam from the left in the ceiling loft just in case you find yourself needing supplies before I return……”

                “Matthew,” Jessica interrupted quietly. “Are you certain that gun and money are still there?”

                “Of course….not.” Matthew rubbed his face. “Just write that I’ll get back to her as quickly as I can and for her to be careful and take care of herself until I do.”

                Jessica nodded and did as he said. “And how would you like to end the letter?”

                Matthew shrugged. “Love, your brother.”

Chapter Nineteen: Cherish

Chapter Nineteen:

                Deniah stared into the river as she stood beside the flowing current and became completely lost in her thoughts. The sound of water rushing over the waterfall filled her ears as she chewed her lip and fought back the rising emotions in her chest.

                It was early morning and after she and Gray Skies had done their prayers he had gone off to gather food. Deniah had wanted to go with him but he had insisted she stay by the cave. Honestly she was growing tired of the cave and the way he kept insisting she needed rest! His protective nature had become overbearing as the days went on.

                She wanted him to realize that she was strong and capable but he treated her as if she were a delicate flower that needed sheltering. She wanted to feel his touch, his kiss and have him help to ease the fire that burned inside of her for him. She had no idea what her body was wanting but it wanted something. And that something was a thing that only Gray Skies could give her.  

                She groaned in frustration, picked up a rock and flicked her wrist, sending the smooth stone skipping across the flat surface of the wide pool of water. Watching that stone skip reminded her of the day that Matthew had taught her to skip stones.

                She had been seven and he had been eleven. It hadn’t been often that her older brother had deemed her worthy to play with back then and so she had been beside herself with excitement when he had taken her into the woods.

                They gone to a bend in the river and spent the whole day together. Matthew had laughed with her and been the brother she’d remembered. He’d taught her how to skip rocks and teased her each time she’d failed to do it right; though he had cheered for her when her rock finally hopped twice.

                That had been the most fun she could ever remember having with her older brother and she had felt more special and precious than anything in the world, knowing that he had taken time away from everything else to spend that time with her.

                When they had left the cabin their pa was gone to town and when they returned it was clear that he had been home for a while. Deniah had instantly noticed the change in Matthew when he saw the wagon though she hadn’t understood what had caused it.  He had shooed Deniah into the house to help mama with supper and he had gone to the barn where papa was seeing to the horses.

                She smiled as she thought back on that day but then her smile nearly turned to tears as she remembered the way he had laughed while he’d grabbed her arm and jerked her around mere weeks ago. The way he’d found amusement in tripping her and causing her to fall and hurt herself. The way he had so cold-heartedly chuckled after shooting Gray Skies brother…..

                A pair of strong arms slid around her waist from behind and Deniah leaned into Gray Skies embrace. “What has you troubled?” he asked softly.

                Deniah wondered how the man always seemed to know when something was wrong with her and how he always managed to show up at those times when she needed him. “I was thinking.”

                “About?”

                “Matthew.”

                Gray Skies let out a string of what she suspected were curses in his language and his grip on her tightened slightly. “Why would you want to think of him? Why waste your tears on that man after what he did to you?”

                “I know he did terrible things, Gray, and I’m not excusing that,” Deniah assured him quickly. “But that wasn’t the Matthew I knew. After mama died he really started to change. He became meaner and drank more and more… But he never laid a hand on me. Not until that night by the river when he shot my crow—well you.”

                Gray Skies was silent for a long while before replying. “Matthew was full of hate, Fire Hair. Hate for what, I do not know, but that hate ate at him like a sickness and he further fueled that sickness with the firewater he was so fond of. Remember the good times if that helps you but do not dwell on the bad and do not let his memory drag you down. I do not enjoy finding you in tears.”

                Deniah sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped at it quickly with her hand. “I’m sorry, Gray. I know he murdered your brother……”

                “He was trying to kill me because I had my hands on his sister and was refusing to let you leave with them. I would have shot him if I had a sister and he had done the same.”

                “But he laughed…” A sob tore from Deniah’s chest and Gray Skies spun her around and pulled her into his chest. “He laughed about what he had done. It didn’t even feel like my brother! My brother, the Matthew that I know, he wouldn’t do all the things he did in the end! He would not have bruised me! He would have hurt me! He would not have murdered an innocent man!”

                “It was not your brother, Fire Hair. It was his hatred and the firewater. And most pale faces are not you. Most pale faces see people like me as monsters or animals. Men are not generally bothered by killing an animal. They do not see it as murder.”

                Deniah buried her face in Gray Skies’ smooth chest and cried quietly. She was so thankful for this man who was her best friend and so much more. He said nothing else and did not try to rush her tears. Instead he simply stood there and held her tight, caressing her back gently and pressing tender kisses to her head.  

                Slowly Deniah felt herself gaining control of her emotions and with one final sniff she pulled herself out of Gray Skies’ arms and swiped her hands over her face to dry it. “Let’s not talk about that any longer. It makes me cry.”

                “Good.” Gray Skies replied, his face drawn and his dark eyes full of pain. “It hurts me to see you hurting.”

                Deniah forced her lips to smile and then her eyes widened when she saw the wetness on his chest. Horrified she quickly began to wipe at it. Gray Skies laughed. “Do not worry about that,” he urged.

                “But I soaked you with my tears!” she gasped, pulling her hand away and chewing her lip. “It must be very unpleasant.”

                “Seeing your tears is never pleasant,” Gray Skies admitted with a tilt of his head. “But it is what I am here for. You are my woman and I am your man. It is my duty and my honor to protect you and care for you—“ he grinned. “—even when that means I am covered in your drool and tears.”

                “There’s no drool!” Deniah argued as her cheeks reddened and her ears grew warm. “I do not drool!”

                “You do,” Gray Skies countered. “But it is part of your charm.”

                “I’m sure,” Deniah muttered dryly as Gray Skies chuckled. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to forage for food?”

                “I was and I returned to the cave for you.”

                Deniah frowned. “For me?”

                Gray Skies reached out a finger and slid a stray strand of hair from her face before sliding his thumb along her cheeks, drying the moisture that was left there. “Yes. I realized I had been keeping you cooped up in that cave and I wanted to make that up to you and have you help me.”

                “Oh…” Deniah suddenly felt guilty for getting so irritated by Gray Skies earlier.

                “I went to the cave to find you and you were not there. This was the next place I thought to look for you.”

                “I’m sorry I worried you, Gray,” Deniah offered weakly. “I just could not stay in that cave any longer! It was smothering me.”

                “I know,” Gray Skies let out a sigh. “I will do better to not protect you so cloyingly. You have to understand that I have never cherished anything in this world the way I cherish you.” His hand slid across her face and cupped her cheek. “I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would get to claim you as mine or say that I was yours. The thought of losing you causes my blood to freeze in my veins.”

                Deniah blinked several times and her heart swelled in her chest to know how deeply this man loved her. “Well you just had to go and ruin my perfectly good argument about how wrong it is for you to protect and smother me so, didn’t you?”

                Gray Skies smiled. “I did my best.”

---

                Something woke Deniah in the middle of the night. She was not sure what woke her and glancing around the cave it was clear that she and Gray Skies were alone. The dying fire beside them cast enough light to shine in all the corners.

                Deniah listened to the water dripping behind her and tried desperately to fall back to sleep. She could see the moonlight illuminating the sky outside and knew that there were still many hours until dawn.

                She and Gray Skies had walked for hours today. He had shown her what spring plants were edible and which were not. He had shown her to dig for edible roots and how to set traps for small game. He had insisted however that if they were to ever go back among his people that she was to never hunt because that would be seen as her overstepping her bounds as a woman and attempting to take on the job of a man; which was a punishable offense. Deniah thought that sounded ridiculous but she wanted to make Gray Skies proud and so had agreed.  After so many days of doing nothing, all the physical activity today had exhausted her body.

                Deniah realized with just a touch of annoyance that she was not going to be able to fall back asleep just now. Deciding that perhaps a bit of fresh air was in order, she slid from Gray Skies’ arms and stood up. She was surprised when she made it to the mouth of the cave and he didn’t awaken. He normally woke up at the slightest movement and noise—it was then that she realized how much the stress of the last two weeks had taken their toll on her ghost as well. He had been so busy taking care of her and she had been so busy being taken care of that she had not noticed.

Deniah felt shame fill her at that knowledge and decided that tomorrow she would do what she could to make sure the man relaxed.

She stepped out into the night and looked through the gap in the trees at the stars dotting the black sky. Spring and summer nights such as these were her favorites. Nights when a cool breeze blew down off the mountains and the sky was so clear you could see all the patterns drawn by those stars.

Deniah’s bare feet carried her a little farther into the woods, toward the river. She knew she couldn’t walk all the way to the flowing water because if Gray Skies woke up and noticed her gone it was very likely that he would panic and then grow angry when he caught her wandering.

                Deniah heard a grunt off to her left, followed by heavy footsteps in the leaves. Her heart began to beat faster and then she heard the panting and her heart began to pound.

                She knew better than to run and as the bear came into view she could not have run if she had wanted to. Her legs froze in place.

                It was a big bear, a female judging by the tiny cubs at her side. They were just coming out of hibernation and they were hungry and the cubs were still quite helpless meaning their mother would be that much more protective. Protective enough to see Deniah as a threat.

                Deniah was certain her heart was going to beat its way straight from her chest. The bear’s dark eyes met hers and it let out a ferocious growl as the two tiny cubs quickly scampered away. Deniah made a step backward, hoping she could make it to the cave but the mama bear obviously saw her movement as a threat and lunged at her.

                Deniah screamed and threw herself at a tree, slipping and sliding on the leaves and dirt as she ran around it, hoping to slip away from the bear and make it to the cave. There was no such luck and Deniah tripped over a fallen branch and began to crawl desperately as she heard the angry mother bear closing in on her. Every panting breath, grunt and growl it released causing her stomach to clench painfully with fear.

                Then another roar filled the night. A roar that was undeniably human, male and angry. Both Deniah and the bear froze and turned toward the sound.

                Gray Skies was running at them, arms waving and his features contorting with a rage that Deniah had never seen him exhibit before.

                “Gray, don’t!” Deniah cried as she pulled herself to her feet. “She’ll kill you!”

                As if taking her advice, the bear lunged for Gray Skies and Deniah realized what true terror was. Then something miraculous happened.  

                Gray Skies changed right before her eyes. His muscles bulged and rippled as thick black fur shot out of his skin. Deniah could hear the terrible sound of his bones popping and cracking as they shifted position and he fell to all fours. His mouth and nose elongated, his ears moved up on his head and suddenly she was no longer looking at anything that resembled Gray Skies. She was looking at a bear.

                A huge boar bear, twice the size of the sow that was attacking them. Gray Skies and the bear met in mid-air with a bone-shattering thud that reverberated through the air.

                The fight was ferocious and the night was filled with angry growls and roars. Deniah felt tears fill her eyes as she feared for Gray Skies life. This was her fault! If he died……

                Just as quickly as the two bears had attacked one another, they fell apart and with a grunt the female turned and loped off into the woods, limping slightly.

                Deniah turned her attention to Gray Skies. He was still standing before her as a bear. A four-hundred and fifty pound, panting, grunting bear. His eyes met her and Deniah found that she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. She was frozen, though whether it was from shock or fear she was not sure.

                Gray Skies turned suddenly and ran into the woods, leaving Deniah to wonder where he had gone and why. Moments later he returned, once again the Gray Skies that she knew and loved only he was….

                Naked.

                Unclothed.

                Completely bare.

                Deniah felt that heat fill her body once again. Gray Skies was sweating and breathing hard. He was six feet of lean muscles and Deniah blushed as her eyes kept being drawn to that impressive part of his anatomy that she had never seen before.

                “I am sorry, Fire Hair.” Gray Skies stated as he attempted to cover himself. He didn’t seem to realize the direction her thoughts had taken or the reaction her body was having to the sight of him. “I did not wish for my first change in front of you to be so frightening.”

                Frightening ? Had Deniah been frightened mere moments ago? She couldn’t remember. All she felt now was heat. Heat and longing. She wasn’t sure what it was she was longing for but she knew that she had to have it. She had to have it now.

Chapter Twenty: Heat

Chapter Twenty: Heat

                Deniah took a step toward him. Her eyes washed over his lithe body full of deadly grace. A low growl tore from Gray Skies chest and caused Deniah’s gaze to move back to his face. His face was illuminated in the moonlight and she saw his brown eyes flash hungrily while tension caused the muscles in his cheeks to jump and bounce.

                “Fire Hair, do not look at me that way,” he warned.

                Deniah had learned that when she bit her lip and looked up at him through her lashes, it seemed to have an effect on the man and his self-control. Right now she was willing to do anything to get what she wanted from him. She was tired of him telling her no.  Her body did not need time to heal—it needed Gray Skies.            

                Calling on every bit of her considerable lack of knowledge, Deniah let her teeth run over her bottom lip and gazed up through her lashes at Gray Skies as she stepped closer. He stood as still as an oak as she moved close enough to his naked body to feel the heat pouring off of him.

                Slowly Deniah raised her trembling hands and spread her palms on his broad chest. His skin was warm and firm beneath her fingers and the copper color contrasted sharply with her own paleness. She could feel the tension in Gray Skies’ body as she looked up at his face. He was looking into the woods instead of down at her and his jaw was so tight that he appeared to have been carved from stone.

                Deniah wondered what he was thinking. Did he feel the overwhelming feverish heat that she felt inside. Her thighs were trembling and her heart racing. Deniah thought about what he had done to her beside the river days before. She thought about the way he had kissed her neck and caused those shivers throughout her body. Would he like it if she did the same thing to him?

                Deniah swallowed hard and then rose on her toes to press her lips against the front of Gray Skies’ bobbing throat. She felt a shudder course through his body and heard him moan, though he did not move.        

                Fueled by his reaction to her kiss, Deniah kissed his throat again. She let her lips trail down to the hollow at the base of his throat and then moved toward his ear.

                Gray Skies’ let out a growl, “I cannot keep myself from taking you much longer, Deniah. I am pleading with you to stop.”

                The sound of his voice so full of longing and passion caused Deniah’s legs to all but disappear beneath her. Gray Skies’ arms quickly circled her waist and held her upright. His dark eyes looked down and met her gray ones.

                “I do not wish to stop, Gray. I want you to teach me… show me what this fever burning in me is for,” she begged.

                She could tell he was going to give in. She saw the look in his eyes switch from one of determination to one of greedy hunger. “You are sure?”

                Deniah let out an impatient whimper. “Give me what I want, Gray.”

                Suddenly she was swooped up into his arms and cradled against his chest. Deniah threw her arms around his neck and his lips found hers in a gentle, tender caress that had her body humming and her head spinning.

                Gray Skies carried her into the cave and laid her down gently upon the moss and leaves covered with a blanket that served as their bed. Deniah stared up at him as he stood over her, his eyes taking in the sight of her laying there beneath him. She wondered what he was thinking. She could not help herself from letting her gaze wash over his body again. His long, lean legs, narrow hips, tapered waist and broad shoulders… Deniah had already known that Gray Skies was one of the most perfect creations to ever have had life breathed into it but seeing him like this; standing above her, his bare skin flickering in the dying firelight, she was reminded of that fact.

                He turned then and began adding wood to the fire. Deniah wondered if maybe he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted after all. He would not deny her again even if she had to get up and force him down onto the blanket.

                Deniah was rising up on her elbows to do just that when Gray Skies turned back to face her. “Stand up,” he ordered, his eyes flashing with need.

                Deniah stood, though she wasn’t sure how with her knees trembling so violently. The moment she was on her feet, Gray Skies descended on her. His mouth caught hers and devoured it hungrily. Instantly he stole Deniah’s breath and that heat, that flame inside of her, became a raging inferno that threatened to leave her a pile of ash.

                She threw her arms around him and dug her fingertips into his lean back as he grabbed her waist and pulled her body closer. Deniah could feel his impressive arousal pressed tight against her stomach and she jumped away from him and stared down at it with wide eyes.

                Deniah had never seen anything like that before! It was hard and long and seemed to be reaching for her. It certainly did not look the way it had look mere minutes before.

                “Do you see what you do to my, Fire Hair?”

                Deniah’s eyes widened. “I did that?”

                Instead of responding, Gray Skies stepped closer and stood over her, looking deep into her eyes as his breath washed over her face. His big calloused hand went to her arm and his fingers barely brushed her skin as they ran across it. Deniah felt bumps cover her flesh and she trembled as her eyes slid closed.

                Gray Skies’ lips caressed her brow, her temple, her cheek, her jaw. He breathed against her ear and she collapsed into his waiting arms. Deniah kept her eyes closed and simply took in every new sensation that Gray Skies was awakening within her. She reveled in the way he made her tremble and seem overheated and on fire. She could feel the tingling building in her core and she wanted more. Always more.  There was a fever…A fever in her blood for Gray Skies and she was desperate to ease the heat and yet wanted more of it all at once.

                Gray Skies ran his hands down her arms and then took her wrists gently. Pressing a feather light kiss to her lips he raised her arms above her head and released his hold. She gasped with shock and her eyes flew open when she felt him grab the bottom of her dress and pulled it up. The look of pure hunger in his eyes had her remaining silent as her dress was slid from her body and tossed upon the floor of their cave.

                She blushed and felt completely exposed and vulnerable as those dark eyes of his roamed over her. There was only way to describe the way he gazed upon her and that was like a starving man taking in the sight of a lavish feast prepared all for him. Deniah bit her lip, let out a hungry whimper of her own and leapt upon him, throwing he arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his in a breath stealing caress.  

---

                Gray Skies was caught off guard by Deniah’s boldness but it did not take him long to recover himself. Quickly he grabbed her soft waist and lifted her up, wrapping her legs tight around his hips. He breathed her in as he deepened the kiss and tasted the sweetness of her tongue with his own.

                Deniah was his! How many days and long lonely nights had Gray Skies dreamed of this? He had tried desperately to ease the hunger he felt for her by laying with other women but it had not helped; had in fact only worsened the lonely desperation that his heart had felt. So Gray Skies had given up and been the last two years with nothing but his dreams of his Fire Hair to keep him warm.

                Now here she was… She was in his arms and he could feel the heat of her core against his own pulsing arousal. He could feel the trembling shivers coursing through her body with every brush of his fingertips against her skin. He could hear the tiny moans and whimpers that she released against his mouth while her back arched and her full breasts pressed against his chest.

                Gray Skies dropped to his knees, never releasing her lips and he laid Deniah down on the blanket. He pulled away then and simply gazed upon her. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Breathtaking face, long graceful neck, full breasts blushed with pink buds that begged to be tasted, soft stomach, rounded hips and that triangle of red curls between her legs that was a temptation he would no longer have to fight against, and long legs that were still wrapped around his hips. Her full lips were red and swollen from his kisses and her eyes were heavy-lidded and passion-filled.  Those freckles that littered her face, littered the rest of her pale skin as well and Gray Skies wanted to take the time to taste every one of them.

                “Gray…” Deniah’s voice was unsure as she shifted. He looked into her eyes and saw her uncertainty and nerves. No doubt she was concerned of what he thought of her as she lay bare and exposed beneath him. Gray Skies smiled then and decided now was a good time to get to tasting what he wanted to taste.

                Finally the fever in his veins for his Fire Hair could be eased—though he knew it would never disappear. He knew that for as long as he lived he would desire this woman.

                “Beautiful,” he whispered and then Deniah’s eyes slid closed once again as he kissed her temple, her eyelids, her nose, her chin…. His lips traveled to that slender neck and he slid his tongue along it before sucking hard and marking her.

                She gasped and her fingers dug into the skin of his back which only fueled his passion. Quickly his mouth went to her collarbones and then her shoulders. He lapped at those freckles with his tongue and then moved to her breasts, kissing the swell of each of them in turn.

                “Gray, what are you doing?” Deniah gasped from beneath him. He did not move his head but he did raise his eyes to see her looking down at him. She was panting, her face was flushed and her gray eyes were dark thunderclouds staring back at him.

                “Relax, Fire Hair. Enjoy the pleasure I am giving you.” He waited until her head was once again resting on the blanket before continuing his exploration of her body.

                His lips found one of her tight pink nipples and instantly his teeth and tongue joined in his feast of that rosy bud. Gray Skies’ hands traveled up her leg, caressing the trembling flesh of her thigh before coming to rest on those wet curls that covered the doorway to his Promised Land.

                Deniah stiffened but he did not stop. He moved his lips to her other breast and then slid one finger inside of her, gently caressing the warm softness he found.

                Deniah’s hips rose to meet his finger and Gray Skies growled against her skin. He could not wait any longer. Already he had waited long enough to have his Fire Hair. His body could no longer be denied.

                Moving his hand away and taking his mouth from her breast, Gray Skies braced himself atop her. Deniah’s eyes looked deep into his and raised her hips once again as if seeking him.    

                “Please, Gray… I need more…” she begged.

                Gray Skies pressed his manhood against the wet curls between her thighs and kissed her softly. “This may hurt, Fire Hair, but only for a moment.” He promised her. She nodded and gazed up at him with loving trust and Gray Skies once against pressed his lips to her. This time it was with a fierce hunger and he devoured her.

                While she was distracted by that kiss, Gray Skies thrust himself inside of her, breaking through her wall of innocence and sinking hilt deep in her warmth. Her walls squeezed him tightly, caressing him in a way he had never felt before. Deniah whimpered against his lips and Gray Skies opened his eyes to see her staring at him with a tear in the corner of her gray eye.

                “Shh…” he kissed that tear away and held completely still inside of her. “Give it a moment, Fire Hair. Tell me when you are ready.”

                Gray Skies moved his lips to her neck and lapped his tongue against the space just below her ear. Slowly she relaxed beneath him and then she began to move. Her hips wiggled and her hands gripped his back.

                “Do something, Gray… I need more.”

                Gray Skies smiled. He had known there was a fire in her. A fire only he would ever touch and he would gladly let it burn him.

                Slowly he slid out of her and then thrust in yet again and she cried out with the pleasure of it. Gray Skies caught those cries with his mouth and began a steady rhythm as he rocked against her.

                Higher and higher Gray Skies felt himself climbing. Heat settled into his core, building and intensifying with each thrust into Deniah’s warmth.

                Her hands gripped his back and his arms. Her nails clawed at him. Her lips kissed his and her teeth nipped at the skin of his shoulders.

                Then she gasped. “Gray, something is happening…”

                “Let it happen.” Gray Skies urged.

                He felt her walls tightening around him and when she cried out and shuddered with the force of her release, Gray Skies allowed himself to let go as well and with three more hard thrusts he was falling over that ledge…. Joining her in absolute pleasure as he poured himself into her body.

                Staying inside of her, Gray Skies lay down on his side and pulled her body into him. She was still shaking and trembling against him as she lay there with her eyes closed.

                “Are you hurting?” he asked gently, hoping he had not been too rough. He slid a strand of damp hair from her temple and she smiled and caught his hand in hers. Her gray eyes opened and locked with his.

                “Gray, I have never felt so cherished and amazingly satisfied in all my life. That was…. Breathtaking.”

                Gray Skies felt his heart swell, and his ego swelled a bit as well, as he held her tight. “There are many other things I want to show you when it comes to pleasure,” he informed her and her eyes widened. “But right now you need rest.”

                It was clear she wanted to argue but when she opened her mouth to do so, a yawn burst forth and her face reddened with embarrassment. “I’m sorry…” she gasped.

                Gray Skies laughed. “There is no need for an apology. Let us sleep now.” He hooked the second blanket with his toes and dragged it toward them, before grabbing it in his hand and covering them both. “And Deniah?” he added earning a muffled moan from where her face was now pressed against his chest. “Do not leave this cave at night without me again. I nearly did not get to you in time.”

                “I won’t, Gray. I promise.”

                Satisfied that she was being truthful, Gray Skies closed his eyes and let his trembling body relax. Never had a woman caused him to tremble and shake the way Deniah did… She was more than he deserved and his most treasured gift from the Great Mother. He was sending up a prayer of thanks even as sleep claimed him.

Chapter Twenty-One: Memories and Cravings

Chapter Twenty-One:  Memories and Cravings

                “Where is my father buried?” Matthew questioned at the table as he, Fred and Jessica ate breakfast. Three days had passed since Fred had told him about the death of his father and Jessica had helped him write the letter for Deniah.

                The letter was still sitting in an envelope on the counter waiting to be taken into town. Fred simply hadn’t had time to make the trip with all the planting he’d been doing in the fields. Matthew hated that he was unable to do anything to either help speed up the planting or take his letter himself. Thanks to his broken leg he spent all his time either sitting in this tiny wheelchair or laying in the bed. He still had another three weeks at least, according to Fred, before his leg would be healed enough to lose the splint.

                “At the cemetery in town.” Fred replied with a grunt as he shoved his final bite of eggs into his mouth and tipped his head as a sign for Jessica to refill his plate.

                Matthew watched her push herself from her chair and breeze across the cramped kitchen. She grabbed her cast iron skillet off the counter and spooned another heaping helping of eggs onto her father’s plate. Fred dug into them quickly. If there was one thing about that man it was that he could flat out put food away.

                Jessica tipped the pan in Matthew’s direction but he shook his head and patted his full stomach, “No thank you, Miss Bailey. I reckon I’m stuffed.”

                Jessica smiled and Matthew felt that familiar raise in his pulse. Damn but she was beautiful! More than that though she was everything a woman should be; kind, caring, soft, gentle, witty and patient.  She was all a man could ask for in a wife.

                Shit, where had that thought come from?

                Fred cleared his throat and Jessica’s blue eyes widened before she turned quickly and went about setting her skillet back on the counter. Matthew looked at the other man, waiting for him to speak. He knew that Fred didn’t want him falling for Jessica and didn’t want Jessica falling for him. Matthew was trying hard to respect that since Fred had saved his life and was giving him a place to stay.

                “Matthew, I could take you into town today. We could get your letter mailed out and you could pay your respects to your father’s grave.”

                Matthew grunted. He was more inclined to piss on his father’s grave than respect it but he didn’t feel the need to tell Fred and Jessica that. “Thank you, sir.” Matthew tipped his head. He might not care one bit about his father but a trip to town still sounded nice. He was tired of having four walls around him. “I’d appreciate a trip to town.”

                Fred nodded and took a sip of his steaming coffee which Jessica had just refilled. “Alright then. Let’s finish up our breakfast here and then I’ll get the wagon ready. I’ve got a few things I need to pick up from the mercantile anyway.”

---

                Town ended up being little more than one muddy street lined with a few rickety buildings. There was a gallows at the edge of town with nooses swinging in the breeze. The graveyard was beside a tiny church in the shadow of those gallows.

                “I’ll take Mr. Williams to see his father’s grave, papa.” Jessica said once Matthew was in his wheelchair and off the wagon.

                Fred didn’t appear too happy about that but nodded. “Alright then. I’ll mail this letter, pick up a few things at the mercantile and meet you back at the wagon.”

                Matthew watched Fred walk off down the fairly empty street and then looked over his shoulder at Jessica. “I can’t wait ‘til I’m out of this chair and don’t’ have to have so much help getting around.”

                “I know,” Jessica replied comfortingly. She pushed him through the opening in the rickety wooden fence around the cemetery and toward a grave that looked fairly fresh. “We had to leave the cross nameless but now that you’re here and we know your father’s name, we’ll take care of that.”

                Matthew was about to tell her not to worry about it but then he thought of Deniah. His sister was a lot like Jessica in many ways and he knew that Deniah would want their father to have his name on his grave.

                “I’ll leave you alone here for a moment to have some privacy,” Jessica offered as she rested her hand on Matthew’s shoulder. Matthew absently reached up and grabbed her hand, squeezing it once before letting his hand fall back away. His mind wasn’t on his actions; his mind was on this grave and the monster of a man lying beneath that pile of dirt.

                Matthew was faintly aware of Jessica walking away as he stared at the blank cross with nothing but a date of death written on it. Here lay the man that had made his life miserable… the man who had hated him for no good reason! Matthew would never know now what he had done to earn such harsh treatment and judgments from his father.

                “Pa, it’s me Matthew. I guess you won’t be hitting me anymore you son-of-a-bitch.”

                Matthew closed his eyes and took a deep breath and suddenly an image flashed through his mind. It was his pa on the night that Matthew’s mother had been buried. Matthew had fled the house after they’d thrown the last shovelful of dirt on the woman and hadn’t come back until late in the night. Deniah had been asleep and Matthew had been hoping that his pa would be too but he hadn’t been….

                Up until that night, Jonathon had always been careful to beat his son roughly but never so roughly that he couldn’t get up the next morning—that was the night that he forgot that rule.

                Matthew hadn’t even had time to get off his horse before his father was jerking the fourteen year old boy from his saddle and slinging him to the ground. Matthew hadn’t been able to scream because his breath was stolen as time after time his father’s boots had collided with his stomach, back, chest, legs and arms.

                “You killed her!” The man had hissed as kick after kick rained down on Matthew’s body. “I should kill you and do the world a favor. I’m ashamed to have created such a worthless son!”

                Eventually Jonathon had tired and then gone back into the house leaving Matthew lying with his belly in the dirt. Matthew’s entire body had hurt so badly. Every breath had felt like daggers being driven into his chest and when he coughed blood sprayed across the dry ground.

                Somehow, though Matthew still wasn’t certain how, he had managed to crawl back into the house and up into his loft without waking Deniah. Matthew had been unable to leave his bed for three days, due to the beating in his body and even after that he could barely get around. Deniah hadn’t questioned him, however, attributing his ‘laziness’ to sorrow and grief over their mother.

                Matthew opened his eyes and looked back down at the grave. Suddenly another image flashed in his mind—a memory?

                It was his father but it seemed the roles were reversed… Matthew was standing over the man, looking down at his pain-filled and fear etched face as he kicked his father over and over and yelled angrily at the man.

                “Are you okay?” Jessica’s voice jerked him from the strange day dream. He looked back at her and nodded.

                “Yeah… Yeah I’m okay. I’m ready to go,” he said quickly. Had that been a memory of something that had occurred in the last four years? Had Matthew attacked his father? It seemed impossible to believe since Matthew didn’t’ like violence given what his father had put him through but maybe in the last four years he had finally snapped and put the old man in his place?

                “Are you certain you’re okay, Matthew?” Jessica asked gently as she came around him and crouched in front of his chair so her expressive blue eyes were level with his. Matthew didn’t miss the fact that she used his given name and it sounded real nice on her lips. “You seem more troubled than you said you would be.”

                “I….” Matthew stopped suddenly. Telling her about his dream, or memory, whichever it had been, would be wrong. She was a gentle, peace loving woman, she wouldn’t want to hear about him cracking his father’s ribs while the man lay helpless and sobbing on the ground. Matthew’s stomach churned. Had he really done that? “It’s just hard to accept the fact that he’s gone and I have no memory of what happened,” he finally offered in response.

                She offered him a comforting smile and laid her hand gently against his arm. “Everything will work out, Matthew, just give it time.”

                Matthew was rendered speechless when she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his whiskered cheek. A blush colored her face, as her eyes widened and her brows shot nearly to her hairline. Quickly Jessica stood and walked back around his chair. “Yes, well I believe we should head back toward the wagon. I’m sure my father will be finished with his errands soon.”

                Matthew was unable to do anything but nod and he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face no matter how hard he tried.

                He saw a man walking out of a saloon with a bottle of whiskey and strangely Matthew felt his palms begin to itch and his mouth suddenly seemed dry. The thirst he felt for whiskey in that moment was enough to drive all thoughts of Jessica from his mind.

                Matthew didn’t understand it. Yes, from what he could remember he liked a shot of whiskey or two now and then but not enough to cause this raging thirst in his blood. He shifted in his chair and stared hard at the bottle as the man brought it to his lips and tipped it up. Matthew watched several droplets drip from his lips and run down the corners of jaw. The man’s throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed down the whiskey and Matthew licked his own lips.

                “Well let’s get you back up in the wagon and head on back to the house.” Fred’s voice had Matthew twisting his neck to see the big man approaching, although Matthew’s eyes kept darting to the man with the whiskey as he made his way down the road.  “I spoke with the undertaker, Matthew, and they are going to add your father’s name to his cross.”

                “Uh…” Matthew forced himself to pay attention to Fred. “Thank you.” He muttered as he wiped his sweaty palms roughly on his trousers.

                Fred’s brow wrinkled as he studied Matthew and then looked across the road at the saloon. “I don’t allow drinking on my property, son. You ain’t a heavy drinking man are you?”

                Matthew shook his head. “No, sir,” he replied honestly. He wasn’t! Sure he had his nights where he drank too much, or at least he had four years ago, but he hadn’t ever been the type to let the drink control him. He had no idea what this reaction in his body was toward the sight of that whiskey.

                “Good,” Fred grunted.

                As Matthew sat in the back of the wagon and Fred led it back down the road toward home, Matthew couldn’t help but sit and wonder about what was happening to him. What were these memories of such violent acts against his father and a nearly blinding craving for whiskey? What the hell was going on? It was as if there was something else living inside of him…. Something he didn’t know about. Something he’d never met. Something very much like a devil.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Show and Tell

Chapter Twenty-Two:

                “Please, Gray? I want to see it.”

                “Fire Hair, why do you want to see? I can promise you that it is disturbing.”

                “Gray, I’m begging with you to show it to me. I want to see what it looks like.”

                Gray Skies shook his head and let out a long breath as he stared hard at his pleading woman. She had her hands held out and her fingers clasped together as she stuck out that lip and batted her lashes. It was a technique she had learned years ago for getting what she wanted from him and so far it had always worked for her.

                Gray Skies knew that it was going to work this time as well. He just was not quite ready to let her know that. “Deniah, my shifting is not a game for your amusement. It is not a show to be watched whenever you get the urge.”

                Deniah gasped with shock and stuck her hands on her hips. “I would never treat you in such a way!” she scolded. “I love you and you know that, or at least you should by now! I simply have to see how my big, strong, copper skinned man transforms into my beautiful crow.”

                Gray Skies turned his head quickly and looked out over the clear pool of water and the cascading waterfall, desperately trying to keep her from seeing the twitch tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”                

                Deniah laughed lightly and he was aware of her moving toward him. Instantly his body went on high alert, waiting and longing for her touch. It had been three days since she had given herself to him and they had been lost in one another since. Gray Skies had known that a fire burned inside his Fire Hair and he hadn’t been disappointed. They made love every chance they had, learning each other bodies; kissing, touching, tasting—Gray Skies felt his breechclout growing tighter at just the thought.

                “Gray,” Deniah whispered as her hands touched his bare chest and she spread her fingers wide. “Please?”        

                Gray Skies glanced down at her and could see the smug look in her gray eyes as she gazed at him through her lashes and slid her teeth across her full bottom lip. The damnable woman knew exactly what she was doing. How quickly she had gone from an innocent girl to a grown woman, confident in her ability to use her body to get what she wanted from him.

                “Just once,” Gray Skies mumbled as he stepped away from her. He shook his head when she let out a happy laugh and clapped her hands with excitement.

                “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, attempting to sober herself. Gray Skies simply shook his head, chuckled and then slipped off his belt and breech cloth. Deniah’s eyes instantly gazed approvingly over his body and Gray Skies growled.

                “Do not start, Fire Hair, or I will have to cancel your entertainment to have a bit of my own.”

                Deniah’s eyes quickly flew back to his and a blush colored her cheeks. “Show me how you become a crow,” she urged.

                Gray Skies sighed and put his arms out to the side as he closed his eyes and thought of the crow. He let the crow’s soul rise up within his own and he felt the change begin. His arms were the first to change, the bones cracked, rearranged and some disappeared as sleek black feathers shot from his skin and he soon stood there with a pair of giant wings. Gray Skies was aware of Deniah gasping but he stayed focused on the crow.

                He felt his body growing smaller, while his face became elongated and he grew a beak. His feet split those feathers burst from his skin to cover the rest of his body.

                When Gray Skies once again opened his eyes, the change was complete and he looked up at Deniah to see what her reaction was.

                Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape as she stared at him. “That was……disturbing,” she mumbled.

                Gray tilted his head, had he not warned her of that? He hopped a step closer and she dropped to her knees. “My crow, I’ve missed you.”

                The teasing smile on her face made Gray’s heart light. They were so happy. He wanted to be like this always. No secrets meetings, no holding back, no judgments; just he and his Fire Hair living like this forever.

                Gray Skies leaned into her touch as her hands caressed his feathers. “Gray, it seems so strange to know that all those days and nights that my crow came to me, all those tears I cried with my crow and all those times he made me laugh—that was truly you.”

                Gray Skies looked into her eyes and nodded. Always he had done his best to be there for Deniah. He had at times neglected his duties to the tribe and if not for their relaxed views on punishments and Big Sky’s fondness for Gray Skies, he would have been soundly disciplined. He would have taken that punishment, however, because Deniah meant more to him than anything else—even his own life.

                Deniah stood then and Gray Skies watched her intently. She had a coy grin on her face that made him wonder just what was going through her mind. Slowly Deniah grabbed the bottom hem of her doeskin dress and lifted it over her head before tossing it to the ground. With a laugh she covered her full breasts, gave him a little wave and then ran into the water with a splash.

---

                Deniah ran deep into the pool of water until the water was nearly up to her breasts and then turned to find that Gray Skies was once again all man and watching her hungrily from the bank. The look in his brown eyes caused her breath to catch and she wondered if there had been any other woman in history with a man who desired her so greatly.

                With long purposeful strides, Gray Skies entered the water and came straight toward her much like a predator stalking it’s pray. Deniah wanted to play coy and run but she couldn’t. That passion in his eyes had her under his spell and she could do little more than stand there and wait.

                She did not have to wait long before Gray Skies was sweeping her into his arm and kissing her thoroughly. His big hands moved over her body, touching her in all the places that she loved the most and then with a growl, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his hips before sliding himself deep inside of her.

                Deniah cried out with the sudden pleasure and clung to his neck as his mouth pressed kisses to her neck and his teeth nibbled at her skin. Gray Skies rocked in and out of her with a slow and steady rythym that had her nearing release quickly.

                As his suckling on her neck intensified, Deniah knew he was marking her again and she decided to turn the tables on him. Using her head to nudge his to the side, she pressed her own lips to his neck and then sucked and nipped hard. Gray Skies called out her name and then began to shudder against her as his grip on her tightened.

                Deniah felt her own body tighten and then she was blinding by white hot passion as she threw her head back and repeated his name over and over.

                “My beautiful, Fire Hair,” Gray Skies whispered against her ear as he carried her back through the cool water toward the bank.

                “I love you, Gray,” Deniah breathed into his ear and she saw his face crinkle as he smiled. He always smiled so happily when she told him of her love and she already knew what he would say before he said it.

                “You are my soul, Fire Hair. I could not live without you.”

                Slowly he sat her on her feet and they dressed one another. Gray took the time to redo the braid in her damp hair and Deniah braided his hair as well. She had gotten good at doing so since every morning they did these things for one another. It created a feeling of intimacy and caring that Deniah loved.

                “I can’t wait to see how those ptarmigans are cooking in that fire pit. I had no idea you could bake simply by wrapping one in leaves and burying it beneath hot coals.” Deniah said as her stomach rumbled.

                Gray Skies looked up at the sky which was beginning to streak with oranges and pinks as the sun set and took her hand in his. “The earth provides us with all things that we need to survive if we simply take the time to learn and understand them.”

                Deniah smiled, “It’s all so simple; so perfect.”

                Gray Skies tugged gently on her arm and pulled her into him. He smoothed his free hand against her cheek as he gazed down at her. “I only want to see you so happy, just like this, for the rest of time.”

                “I want to feel like this forever.”

                Gray Skies smiled down at her and then her stomach rumbled again. He laughed lightly, “Come,” he urged. “Let’s go see to that stomach.”

---

                Gray Skies felt an uneasy feeling wash over his spine as they neared the cave. He knew that Deniah sensed the change in him as her grip on his hand tightened.

                “What’s wrong?” she whispered but he shook his head and held up a hand to silence her.

                “Stay here,” he warned. He placed her beside a thick pine tree and crept silently across the leaf strewn forest floor toward the cave.

                It wasn’t until he saw Eagle Feather standing beside the entrance that he relaxed, though not completely. If his friend had once again left the tribe and come to him, the news he brought with him was probably not good.

                “Hello, Eagle Feather.” Gray Skies said as he held out his hand and Eagle Feather clasped it firmly.

                “Hello, brother, where is your woman?”

                Gray Skies turned and whistled. “Fire Hair, you can come,” he called.

                Deniah joined them and a smile curved her lips at the sight of Eagle Feather. “Nice to see you again,” she offered politely.

                “And you,” Eagle Feather tipped his head and his eyes twinkled. “I see it now, Gray Skies. It is no wonder you could not stay away and chose her.” Jealousy swirled in Gray Skies’ gut but Deniah frowned.

                “Chose me?” she whispered. “What does he mean?”

                Gray Skies sighed, “Nothing. He is brain addled,” Gray Skies fixed his friend with a look that clearly told him to shut his mouth and Eagle Feather shrugged and took a step back. “Why are you here?”

                “Gray, don’t be rude!” Deniah scolded. She turned to Eagle Feather. “We were about to eat. We have some baked ptarmigan and some herbs and wild onion simmering to pour over it. Would you like to join us?”

                Gray Skies rolled his eyes but waited for Eagle Feather to either accept or decline the invitation. “I can’t.” Eagle Feather said sadly. “I came to bring some news that I’m afraid is not good.”

                Gray Skies clenched his fists at his sides. He had known it hadn’t been a coincidence that his friend had arrived here. “What news?” he asked calmly. Deniah’s arms slipped through his and he pulled her closer to his side.

                Eagle Feather’s eyes were full of sadness and his face was drawn as he sighed, “It’s about Big Sky. He is very ill, Gray Skies, and probably only has days left on this earth. He has asked for your presence,” Eagle Feather turned his eyes to Deniah, “and yours.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Gift

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Gift

                Deniah’s stomach churned with nervous fear as she rode atop the black gelding with Gray Skies’ arm wrapped tight around her waist. They had been riding hard for nearly twelve full hours and Deniah was amazed at the stamina of the two horses that Eagle Feather had brought along with him. She only prayed that they would make it to Big Sky in time and knew that if they did not it would be her fault.

                Eagle Feather and Gray Skies could have become birds and made it to the chief in only a few hours. It was because they had Deniah that they had to travel so much more slowly by horseback.

                Deniah could feel the tension in Gray Skies’ body. He hadn’t spoken more than two words since Eagle Feather had told them Big Sky was dying. Deniah wished that she knew what he was thinking but she did not. She knew that he could read her easily enough and always had been able to but reading Gray Skies was impossible. The man knew how to hide his emotions and thoughts and he was doing so now.

                She hated that this was happening to him. While Gray Skies hadn’t gone into detail about each person in his tribe while teaching her their customs, any time that Big Sky’s name had been mentioned, Gray Skies’ voice had been full of respect and fondness. It wasn’t fair that he was going to lose someone he cared for so deeply after just losing his brother not even a full month before.  

                Gray Skies’ tugged on his horse’s mane and the creature came to a stop. Deniah looked around the forest surrounding them and frowned. “Why did we stop?”

                “We are almost there.” Gray Skies replied simply. “We will continue on foot and allow the horses to rest now.”  Gray Skies slid from the horse and left Deniah sitting atop it as he turned his back and moved away. She frowned and looked at the ground so far away. Her legs were aching from so many hours gripping the horse’s sides and her thighs were raw and burning. How was she going to get down without falling?

                Then Eagle Feather was beside her. He gripped her waist and she smiled gratefully as she held onto his shoulders and he lifted her down. “Running Deer will be angry that we rode the horses so hard to get here after I rode them so hard to find you. It would be best to be on foot when he sees us.” Eagle Feather explained as he sat her on her feet and stepped back.

                Deniah nodded but her thoughts were not on Running Deer or the horses, her thoughts and attention were focused on Gray Skies. She had never seen him this way. He was pacing back and forth and his fists were clenched at his sides. It was clear from the drawn expression on his face that his mind was racing and she wished desperately that there was something she could do to calm him.

                She knew that there was not and truth be told she was equally as distraught and on edge as he was. All this time that she had spent with Gray Skies, she had thought that going back to his people was what she wanted. She’d been learning his ways, his culture and his beliefs in the hope that her skin color could be overlooked and she may be accepted among them. But now…? Now she was scared, frightened, terrified!

                What if they did not accept her? What if they demanded that she leave and never return? She would lose Gray Skies if that happened because she would never force him to choose between her and his people. She would simply walk away before she took him from everything he loved.

                Her hands were trembling and she nearly cried out when Gray Skies strode away into the forest. She needed his support right now, though she knew that was greedy and selfish given the fact that he was hurting as well.

                Suddenly he stopped and glanced back at her. His deep brown eyes met hers and she saw his pain etched deeply in the lines of his face. He held out his hand and Deniah ran to him, sliding her palm against his and taking comfort in the way he entwined their fingers.

                Slowly he brushed a tender kiss to her trembling knuckles. As he resumed his walking, Eagle Feather fell in step beside them. “How many people will be here?” Deniah questioned, her teeth chewing worriedly on her lip.

                “Several clans have joined together during this time of loss for our people,” Eagle Feather replied.

                “Are they all shifters?”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies finally spoke up. “Shifters only exist to other shifters. The other tribes, no matter what nation they come from, know nothing of us other than the myths and the legends. We are bedtime stories for children.”

                Deniah moved closer to Gray Skies, pressing herself against his side when the sounds of voice, children and drum beats came to her ears.

                “No harm will come to you, Fire Hair,” Gray Skies assured her quietly.

                “Of course not,” Eagle Feather agreed. “We are not the savages your people would have you believe.”

                “ Tla! ” Gray Skies exclaimed, startling Deniah with his anger as he glared at Eagle Feather. “Fire Hair is one of us and will be treated that way. I will allow no less.”

                Eagle Feather bowed his head but the look in his eyes spoke of uncertainty. “I know you feel that way, Gray Skies, but it may be asking too much to expect the other clans, even some of our own clan, to agree.”

                “Then I will leave just as quickly as I came after speaking with Big Sky.”

                “Gray….” Deniah was going to argue with his statement but in that moment the forest began to clear and open up and Deniah caught sight of people—lots of people.

---

                Gray Skies threw his shoulders back proudly as he held Deniah’s hand tight in his and stepped into sight of his people. He did not want to acknowledge the happiness in his soul at being home again but it was there. He had missed the scents, smells and sights of his people all gathered together.

                Sadness settled deep in his soul when he remembered why so many clans were gathered here today.

                Without looking in anyone’s eyes and ignoring the glare his father was throwing in his and Deniah’s direction, Gray Skies strode straight to Big Sky’s teepee with Deniah firmly at his side and Eagle Feather keeping step behind them.

                Eagle Feather was suddenly bombarded by a very angry Running Deer who was loudly chastising the other man when he caught sight of his frothing, winded horses.

                He could feel Deniah’s fear and he gave her hand a squeeze continuing forward as bodies cleared the way for them as if afraid to be in their path. Gray Skies knew it was just as much the look of protective aggression on his face as it was the pale skin by his side that had them frightened and weary.

                The guards outside the teepee stepped aside when Gray Skies neared and Gray Skies took a deep breath before pulling the flap aside and leading Deniah into the teepee’s interior.

                Instantly his eyes found Big Sky. The old man looked older than ever before. His skin was dull and lifeless sand his wrinkles seemed deeper somehow, cutting into his flesh. The sagging skin on his cheek and chin moved slightly as he sat cross legged beside the fire and looked up at Deniah and Gray Skies.

                “I am so pleased that you made it,” he whispered. His voice was weak, raspy and his lungs seemed to rattle with every breath he took. The oppressive sense of death was cloying and heavy in the air.

                “As am I,” Gray Skies tipped his head in agreement.

                Big Sky’s eyes, still just as sharp as ever, went to Deniah. “This must be your woman.”

                “Yes.” Gray Skies replied proudly. “This is Fire Hair.”

                A smile curved Big Sky’s thin lips. “You did well with this one,” he admitted. “She is quite beautiful.”

                Gray Skies looked down at Deniah to see her cheeks flushing and her teeth nibbling on her full bottom lip. “She is my soul, Chief Big Sky. “My one.”

                Big Sky nodded. “I can see that clearly. Gray Skies, I have many things to discuss with you but first I must speak with Fire Hair alone.”

                Gray Skies stiffened and felt Deniah’s grip on his hand tighten almost painfully. “Alone?” she squeaked.

                “I promise I do not bite,” Big Sky assured her with raspy laughter that led to a ragged cough.

                “You heard him, Gray. Go wait outside,” Deniah urged.

                Gray Skies did not want to leave her alone. He was not afraid for her safety with Big Sky but what if the old man caused her to change her mind about Gray Skies? What if he made her fear what Gray Skies was? While his fear was irrational and he had no real reason to worry about those things, he worried about them just the same.

                He could not lose Deniah. It would kill him.

                Deniah laid a gentle hand on his cheek and smiled. “I cannot normally read your mind, Gray, but right now you are as clear to me as the pool of water beside our cave. Go, and everything will be fine.”

                “Beautiful and smart as well.” Big Sky said with amusement. His smile grew. “She reminds me very much of your mother.”

                “I will be right outside.” Gray Skies stated quickly and then left the teepee, hoping he knew Big Sky well enough to be right about the man’s acceptance of Deniah.

---

                “Sit, please.” Big Sky stated as he waved a shaking, age gnarled hand toward the bare space on the opposite side of the small fire.

                Deniah nodded and sat as well, folding her legs under her. “It is an honor to meet you, Big Sky. Gray Skies speaks of you with great respect and fondness.”

                “I feel the same things for him. Now we have much to discuss and not much time to do it in so I will begin.”

                “Okay, sir.” Deniah replied, folding her trembling hands in her lap. She was nervous to be so close to this man—not because he was an Indian but because she did not want to say or do the wrong thing to harm his relationship with Gray Skies. She wanted the man that Gray Skies respected and admired so greatly to like her.

                “It is my wish to give you a gift, Fire Hair. A gift that has only once ever been bestowed upon someone not born to our people. My gift comes with stiff conditions. Will you accept my gift?”

Chapter Twenty-Four: One Of Us

A/N:  For those of you that didn’t get my message, I deleted chapter 24 and 25 of this story and have changed the direction I’m taking the story in. that’s why I’m uploading chapter 24 again. The first few paragraphs are the same but then it changes

Chapter Twenty-Four: One Of Us

                Deniah blinked several times as she stared hard at the old chief and attempted to understand what he had said. It certainly hadn’t been what she had been expecting to hear!

                “What… what kind of gift?” she questioned uneasily. She wanted to trust that this ‘gift’ was going to be the answer to the wishes she had wished so fervently.

                Big Sky shook his head and pointed at a small wooden box covered in ornately painted designs of leaves and vines. “Hand me that box.”

                Deniah reached out and took the box in her hands, realizing it was heavier than she had believed it would be. She sat in on Big Sky’s lap and then repositioned herself on the fur rug beneath her.

                “This box contains artifacts that tell stories of our people. Each object has a life and a spirit of its own,” Big Sky began as he lifted the lid. Deniah bit her lip and craned her neck hoping to peek inside. Big Sky clicked his tongue and her eyes went back to his face to find him shaking his head with disapproval.  “No peeking,” He warned.

                She flushed sheepishly and sat back nearly laughing when he smiled with amusement. “When the Great Mother created our people she wept when she saw the struggles we would face as our homelands were invaded,” As Big Sky spoke he pulled a large feather, a rib bone, several small stones and a crow intricately carved from bone. “But she gave us signs and seeds of wisdom to help us on our journey.”

                “That looks like Gray!” Deniah exclaimed before biting the inside of her cheek roughly to remind herself to be quiet and smiling apologetically at the old chief. Big Sky did not look annoyed; instead he gazed at her with fond amusement.

                “Yes it does. The owl is thought to be the sacred bird among our people though those of us with spiritual powers know that there is one creature more sacred than the rest. Gray Skies is the first crow among our people in hundreds of years.”

                “But Gray said all of you can turn into any animal—“ Deniah began and then she looked down at her hands. “—I am sorry I keep interrupting… Oh dear! Gray wasn’t supposed to tell me all of that! I didn’t get him in trouble did I?”

                Big Sky appeared taken aback by the tears in her eyes. “Calm yourself!” he scolded. “There is no harm in the knowledge you possess of our people.” Relief filled Deniah. She had worried for a moment that she had spoken too much. “Now, it is true that our people can take the shape of any animal they have seen however there is one animal for every person that is the easiest; one animal whose soul melds more completely with ours. For Gray Skies it is the crow and he is the first in many many lifetimes.”

                Deniah noticed that Big Sky’s voice was getting weaker and his words a bit slurred. It was clear the man was exhausted and needed rest. All thoughts of gifts left her mind and she only wanted to care for the man that Gray Skies loved so deeply. “Big Sky, you need rest,” she urged.

                “Not until after I am finished telling you what needs to be told. Very soon I will have a very long rest.”  Deniah winced at the reminder of his imminent death.

                “Yes, sir,” she whispered quietly.

                “You will call me, Big Sky or chief but not sir. Sir is a pale face term,”

                “Please forgive me!” Deniah exclaimed, fearful that she had offended the man that meant so much to Gray Skies.

                His wrinkled face split into a grin, “You are enchanting, Fire Hair. It is very clear to me why Gray Skies would choose you to be his partner in this life.”

                Deniah felt herself all but glowing from his praise. Hearing compliments was something she was not accustomed to. Only Gray Skies had ever had good things to say about her the last few years.  

                “So you are not angry at him for coming after me?” she questioned as she pulled her thick braid over her shoulder and twisted it in her hands. “For choosing someone with pale skin?”

                “At first I was disappointed, perhaps even a little angry that you meant more to him than his own people,” Big Sky fell quiet a moment as he held the carved crow in his grizzled hands. “Then I thought of my wife and the way my soul has been incomplete since I lost her. I realized that I would have done the same as Gray Skies when told to choose between my people and her. There are times when even the leader, who should always put his people before himself, becomes selfish.”

                Deniah studied the old chief a moment as his words sank in. Gray Skies had been given a choice between his people and her and he had chosen her? Deniah felt both immensely cherished and a bit angry all at once with that new knowledge.

                “I see this choice is new to you and the man did not tell you that he was given such a choice. He did not agonize long over his decision and I knew the instant the choice was laid at his feet, which direction his soul was going to carry him.”

                “I simply don’t like knowing he made such a sacrifice to be with me,” Deniah admitted quietly as she studied the crow in Big Sky’s wrinkled hands. She feared she was not worth such a sacrifice.

                “Look at me,” Big Sky ordered and Deniah felt compelled to do as she was told. “Gray Skies would be angry to know you consider yourself not worth the sacrifice he made.”

                Deniah’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say that!” she exclaimed. “How did you….?”

                “I am very old and you are quite easy to read.” Big Sky replied with a raspy laugh. “Now times are changing. The word is changing. Soon my people will have to change with the world. They will not be able to hide forever and will have to learn to adapt to the pale faces and their ways of life. There will come a day when Gray Skies is called on to lead our people .”

                Deniah felt her heart swell with pride, “He will make a fine leader.”

                Big Sky nodded, “I agree. When that day comes and he is ready he will make one of the best leaders that our people have ever seen.” 

                Big Sky stifled a yawn and Deniah reached around the fire and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “You need to rest, chief.”

                “Are you more concerned about me than about the gift I am wanting to bestow upon you?”

                Deniah felt her stomach begin to flutter, “I had forgotten all about it while we talked of Gray Skies,” she admitted.

                “Then let us get back to it then,” Big Sky held up the crow. “Gray Skies will one day be a great leader for our people should he choose to accept that path. In order to do so he will require a strong and loving woman standing beside him. That woman is you, Fire Hair.”

                Deniah chewed on her lip and looked down at her own hands, “My place is beside Gray, I know that,” she vowed. “But will the people here accept me and my pale skin? And will they accept Gray if I’m the one standing beside him?”

                “In time,” Big Sky assured her. “And that is where my gift comes in. I wish to adopt you into our tribe.”

                “You do?” Deniah gasped with disbelief. “But you do not even know me!”

                “I know that Gray Skies loves you and that tells me enough and I can also see the goodness that rests in your soul. You are a blessing to our people and in time they will see what I can see; what Gray Skies can see.”

                Deniah was speechless. She could feel tears gathering in her eyes and Big Sky smiled at her. “Now go, talk with Gray Skies and convince him to stay. I will rest a bit and then, if you choose, I will make the announcement that you are now one of us and should be treated as such.”

                “Thank you so much, Big Sky.” Deniah whispered through her tears. She stood and then walked to the old man, crouching down and laying a kiss against his weathered cheek, “You have no idea what this means to me.”

                “Go woman,” Big Sky’s wrinkled skin reddened a bit. “Go tell Gray Skies of our talk.”

                Deniah had never felt a relief like the one she felt as she burst from the teepee and searched for Gray Skies among the mass of bodies. Drum beats sounded but they were slow and methodical in sharp contrast to her pounding heart.

                She was going to be one of Gray Skies’ people. She had faith in what Big Sky said. She would one day be accepted among them and knowing that she had Gray Skies, Big Sky and Eagle Feather behind her gave her a bravery she had not felt before.

                She smiled happily but that smile quickly vanished when she found Gray Skies among the crowd. He was off to the side, near the trees they had walked through to come into the camp and he seemed to be having a heated, angry discussion with a man that looked very much like him only older.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Ceremonies and Surprises

Chapter Twenty-Five: Ceremonies and Surprises

                “You dare bring her here? You dare dishonor the memory of your brother this way?” Wolf Heart demanded as his fists clenched with anger.

                Gray Skies took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This argument was getting nowhere fast and no matter how many times, Gray Skies told his father the truth of Bear Claw’s signs that he was meant to be with Deniah, Wolf Heart would not listen.  “Father, she is not responsible for Bear Claw’s death.”              

                “Her people are! Her blood! Her brother! Her brother killed your brother and now you are bringing her back here? You would choose to be with her? You would choose to bring her back to our people?”

                “I did not choose to come here. Big Sky requested my presence and Fire Hairs as well. If you are angry you should go and speak with him,” Gray Skies replied evenly. He did not want to argue with his father. He had been taught to always respect those older than he, though that lesson was often one easier said than it was done. Gray Skies was very tired of having his relationship with Deniah questioned at every turn.

                “Big Sky may want you both here but the choice is not his alone. There are other elders here and more tribes as well with chiefs and elders of their own. No one will accept that pale-skinned woman among us. Your brother’s blood was spilled and should be avenged with blood from the family who took him!”

                Gray Skies shook his head and slashed his hand through the air, “No one will harm, Deniah. I will protect her with my life.” Wolf Heart shook his head with disgust and took a step back. “And the debt for Bear Claw’s life has been paid. The man who took his life is dead.” Gray Skies insisted, feeling a slight twinge of guilt at the lie.

                “The debt will never be paid. Bear Claw was a promising warrior and could have been one of the best our people had ever seen had he been given a chance to grow. I vow to you now that you have lost me. I no longer have any sons and our people will never accept you and that woman here together.”

                “Gray Skies?” Gray Skies turned quickly when he heard Deniah’s voice behind him. He and his father had been speaking in the tongue of their people and Gray Skies was grateful that while Deniah had been learning a few words during the last few weeks, she did not know enough of the language to have picked up on what his father was saying.

                “Fire Hair,” Gray Skies held out his arm and she came to him, slipping beneath it as he pulled her protectively to his side.

                “Is this your father?” Deniah asked quietly. 

                Before Gray Skies could reply Wolf Heart stepped forward, “No, I have no sons. You will do well to leave here, Fire Hair, ” Gray Skies felt Deniah tense at the hostility in Wolf Heart’s voice and it only served to fuel Gray Skies temper.

                “What did Big Sky wish to talk with you about?” Gray Skies questioned her.

                Deniah spared a glance at Wolf Heart and Gray Skies turned her to show the other man their backs. It was a large show of disrespect but Gray Skies no longer cared. His father had let him know how little he meant and now Gray Skies was going to do the same to his father.

                “I need to speak to your father….” Deniah began but Gray Skies shook his head forcefully.

                “ Tla! .” he spat. “No, you will not speak with him. He is not worth your words.”

                “Gray—“ Deniah’s gray eyes flashed with temper but Gray Skies kept his hold on her firm.

                “No, Fire Hair. What did Big Sky wish to speak to you about?”

                Deniah glanced around him and Gray Skies looked back at his father to find the man glaring at them both, though Wolf Heart was not the only one glaring. It seemed that angry eyes were watching them from nearly every direction. “Come,” Gray Skies said gently as he took her hand in his. “We will go somewhere less hostile and you can tell me.”

                Gray Skies led her into the trees and they continued walking in silence until they reached Gray Skies favorite place among the cliffs and waterfall. The same place he had been standing when his brother had sent him the sign to go to Deniah.

                “Now, what did Big Sky say?” Gray Skies questioned as they sat side by side on the cliff line and gazed across the mountains around them.

                “He wants to adopt me into the tribe, Gray. He wants to make me one of your people.”  The excitement in Deniah’s voice was unmistakable. Gray Skies continued to stare hard at the sky and struggled to know what to say.

                While Big Sky had no doubt meant well in his offer, it was not a choice for only him to make. There were other elders and chiefs here that would have their own opinions and Gray Skies knew the opinions would not be good.

                Wolf Heart would not be the only of his people to feel such anger toward Deniah. She was the sister of a man who had cold-bloodedly murdered one of their own. They would want vengeance for that death and there was no proof that Matthew was truly dead—without that proof they would want Deniah was the one they would seek for punishment.

                That had been a situation that Gray Skies had not foreseen. He did not blame Deniah for Bear Claw’s death and had not truly believed anyone else would either. Clearly he had been wrong and now he feared for Deniah’s safety.

                “Gray Skies, aren’t you happy about this?”Deniah asked. “We can live among your people and I can become one of them…..”

                “Fire Hair, I would love to be able to make a home with you here among my people but I do not know that it will be possible,” he replied regretfully.              

                Deniah looked truly stricken, “Why?” she whispered. “Just because I have pale skin?”

                “No, Fire Hair, that is not the only reason,” Gray Skies would have rather cut his own foot off than to say what he knew he had to say next, “It is because your brother killed one of our people and….some of them blame you.”

                Deniah’s face became stricken and her gray eyes filled with tears, “I knew they would!” exclaimed. “I knew your father would blame me, Gray, he is grieving for his son. Of course he blames me since it was my brother that took him away.”

                “I do not want you to worry about these things, Fire Hair. You and I will build a life of our own…”

                “He is angry at you too isn’t he?” she asked quickly as she began to chew furiously at her bottom lip. “That is why he said those things?”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies would not lie to her about this.

                “That’s why you were arguing with him isn’t it? He does not want you with me and he does not want me around.”                

                “I care not about what he wants,” Gray Skies admitted honestly.

                “But Big Sky said that once he had me adopted among the people that I could slowly work at becoming accepted…”

                “Big Sky has the best of intentions but his heart is often bigger than his true abilities,” Gray Skies warned.

                Deniah shook her head stubbornly as she swiped at a tear dangling on her lashes, “No, he said that the people need you. He said that you are the first crow among your people and because of that you are one day destined to lead them should you choose that road. He also said that you would…..That you would need me beside you.”

                “Well we know for certain he was correct about at least one thing,” Gray Skies acknowledged. “I do need you beside me, Fire Hair, and I will for always.”

                Deniah fell silent and stared at the water cascading over the cliff line. Gray Skies watched the way the sunlight danced off of the golden strands in her fiery hair and wished he could read her mind. While her emotions were always plainly written across her face, her mind was a mystery to him that often went in directions he did not expect.

                “Gray, I want Big Sky to perform the ceremony he spoke about. I want to become one of your people even if only by name. Big Sky honored me greatly by offering me such a gift and I will not let fear of what your people will think scare me from it,” Gray Skies opened his mouth to speak but Deniah held up her hand to silence him, “I understand we may not be welcomed here together and that is fine. We can go build a life somewhere else if that is the path that you choose for us to take. I will stay right by your side and respect and honor any choice you make. So do this one thing for me. Stand beside me while Big Sky gives me this gift.”

                Gray Skies sighed and took her face gently in his hands, “I would stand beside you through any thing we face, Fire Hair. Together you and I could take on the world and I will never walk away from you or make you face a thing alone. I am only worried that this will end with your spirits crushed. I would protect your physical being from harm with my last breath but I cannot protect your spirit from their judgments and hatred.”

                Deniah leaned forward and kissed his nose before smiling comfortingly at him, “I’m stronger than I look, Gray. I know you’re worried but Big Sky seems to be certain that this is what needs to be done.”

                “And if no one else approves and they attempt to interfere?”

                “We should go and have this talk with Big Sky,” Deniah insisted. She laid her hand over Gray Skies’ which was still on her cheek, “I really want this.”

                Gray Skies knew he could not deny her. His own fear was less than his desire to please this woman he loved so deeply, “Then let us go and speak with Big Sky.”

                Gray Skies knew they would not be able to live among his people—at least not yet. Perhaps one day life would lead them down such a path but he knew that day was not today and was not now.

---

                Deniah paid more attention to the people around them as she and Gray Skies made their way back to the camp. Gray Skies was correct about the glares, the hatred, the anger—all of it directed at her and at him for being with her.

                She began to doubt Big Sky and instantly felt guilty for doing so. The man had offered her a beautiful gift and she was going to accept it. She was not foolish enough to believe that Gray Skies’ people would instantly accept her among them but she knew that this gift was the next logical step toward someday making that happen.

                “I knew you would be back quickly,” Big Sky smiled as Gray Skies led Deniah into the man’s teepee.

                “Deniah told me of the gift that you offered to her and the future you foresee for me if that path is where life leads me,” Gray Skies stated, jumping straight to business and ignoring pleasantries.

                “And you are not sure of things?” Big Sky noted as he waved for them to sit across from him. His voice was still weak but it was a bit stronger than it had sounded before.

                Deniah and Gray Skies settled down on the fur rug and Gray Skies sighed, “My father has made it clear that Fire Hair will not be accepted here anytime soon, Big Sky. He blames her for what happened to Bear Claw and will not listen to reason. It was Bear Claw’s spirit that sent me after Fire Hair those weeks ago and wanted me to be at her side.”

                Deniah was surprised by this. It was something she had not heard before.

                “The journey will not be easy,” Big Sky acknowledged. “I can make her a Ghost in name but the acceptance among our people will only come with time.”

                “If at all,” Gray Skies countered.

                Big Sky fixed him with a stern gaze but then finally nodded, “If at all,” he agreed. Then he smiled at Deniah, “I cannot promise acceptance but I can say that I truly believe in my heart that it will come. And I want to make you a member of our tribe and one of our people.”

                “What if others do not approve?” Deniah asked quietly and Big Sky waved his hand.

                “I do not need to consult with anyone else to do this. This is my gift to you, my choice. They do not have to accept you but they cannot stop me. Now tell me, is this something you want?”

                “Yes,” Deniah nodded as she squeezed Gray Skies hand. “Gray Skies is my future and I want to make him proud always.”

                Big Sky smiled, deepening the wrinkles around his dark eyes, “Good. Then I will ready things in here. Gray Skies, go and fetch Eagle Feather to stand as witness—“

                Gray Skies held up a hand and Big Sky fell silent. Deniah stared with shock at Gray Skies interruption, wondering what could have brought about the rudeness. “What is it, Gray Skies?” Big Sky questioned.

                “I have more to ask of you.”

                “Gray…” Deniah whispered harshly, wondering what had gotten into the man.

                “What do you ask?” Big Sky questioned, though there was a twinkle in his eyes as if he already knew. Deniah wished that she could be so enlightened.

                “After you have completed the ceremony to join her with our people then I wish for you to make her something more.”

                “More?” Big Sky asked with a teasing tone in his voice.

                Gray Skies shifted upon the furs they were seated on and Deniah felt that his palm was becoming sweaty, “I wish for you to make her my wife.”

A/N: I am back! I now have a fairly clear vision of how I am going to finish this story up so thank y’all for giving me this time to kind of clear my head and get it sorted out :) Hopefully that writers block will stay gone a while!!

Chapter Twenty-Six: Judged By the Elders

Chapter Twenty-Six: Judged By the Elders

                Deniah could scarcely breathe as she sat in Gray Skies teepee and looked down at her white knuckled hands holding tight to the crow totem that Big Sky had given to her.

                She was getting married to Gray Skies! She had been shocked when he had told Big Sky his wishes; shocked and elated. Gray Skies had been a part of her life for so long and he was her everything now; as essential to her survival as food, water and sunlight.

                Deniah still could hardly believe that Big Sky had agreed to perform the simple ceremony and while they would not get the giant feast or the large gathering with dancing, singing and joy around a fire as Gray Skies’ people celebrated their union, Deniah did not care. She only wanted to be Gray Skies wife and to stand beside him, vowing herself to him for the rest of her days.

                A throat cleared outside the teepee and Eagle Feather threw the flap back, “Are you ready?” he asked with a warm smile.

                Deniah nodded as she pushed herself to her feet, placed the totem in the pocket of her doeskin dress and fussed with her hair, “Do I look decent?” She wished she had an elegant gown to wear or someone to help her fix her hair. Suddenly a woman appeared, moving around Eagle Feather. She did not appear happy to be there and she had several crow feathers in her hands. They were as black as night and beautiful.

                “What are those for?” Deniah questioned.

                Instead of replying the Indian woman merely grunted. She was beautiful with a slim figure, long flowing black hair and strong features. Her dress was simple but it showed off just how feminine and lovely she was and the nearly white hide contrasted with her dark skin.

                “Willow Bark is here to fix your hair,” Eagle Feather replied. “On orders from Big Sky and she will do well to remember for whom she is doing this.”

                Willow Bark glared at Eagle Feather but then her gaze softened a bit and she motioned for Deniah to turn and drop to her knees. Deniah was quick to do that and then without a word, Willow Bark’s slender fingers began to quickly braid up her hair which had been loose.

                As she braided she hooked the feathers to several strands so they hung long from her braid. She tied the braid off with a leather strip and Deniah smiled gratefully, “ Thank you ,” she said in the language of Gray Skies’ people.

                Willow Bark seemed surprised and then shook her head, “I did it not for you,” Without another word the woman quickly strode from the teepee.              

                “Oh Eagle Feather, will no one here welcome me?”

                “I welcome you,” Eagle Feather held out his arm. “Now let us get you to your man before he paces a hole in the ground.

                “Was Running Deer very angry with you?” Deniah questioned, desperate for conversation to distract her from her nervousness as they left the teepee.

                “Yes. I am banned from using his horses for a long time. It is good I will not need to chase after you and Gray Skies any longer.”

                “Gray Skies does not seem to think we will be welcome to stay here once Big Sky is gone. He believes that the hatred that your people have for the pale skins will be too great and we will be forced to leave if we want to live with any kind of peace.”

                “Perhaps he is wrong,” Eagle Feather offered.

                Deniah saw all of Gray Skies’ people look her way and then turn their backs to her as she walked past them and she sighed sadly, “Or perhaps he is right.”

                They were nearing Big Sky’s teepee and Deniah saw Gray Skies pacing before it. His long, powerful legs ate up the ground as he simply walked back and forth with his head held high but his eyes unfocused, clearly lost in thought.          

                As if he could sense her presence, and she knew he could, his head whipped around and the smile that curved his lips took away her breath. This was her Gray Skies, her crow, her man, and she could not wait to get started on forever with him.

                “Can I have a moment alone with her?” Gray Skies asked as he walked over.

                Eagle Feather nodded, “Of course. I will step into the teepee and wait.”

                “What is it, Gray?” Deniah asked quietly, noticing how everyone around was simply going about their day as if Gray Skies and Deniah were not here ; as if there were no wedding about to take place.

                “Among my people we do not speak loving words very often. Men and women marry because they are expected to and while there may be fondness between them it is not something they speak of. Love is shown through simply doing the duties of day to day life and not through displays of affection. I do not want that to be our marriage or our life. I want you to know that you are my soul; my heartbeat. The Great Mother gave me a gift I will never be able to pay back when I found you in the river so long ago. Whatever this life brings we will face together and I will love you eternally. That is my promise to you.”

                “That’s beautiful,” Deniah whispered around the lump in her throat. She smiled up at him, loving him more than she had ever thought possible. So tall, so strong, so good and so hers .

                “It is the truth.” Gray Skies replied as he caressed her brow gently with his lips. “Now, come,” he took her hand, “Let us be….”

                A terrible feminine wail rose up from within Big Sky’s teepee and an Indian woman ran out before falling to her knees on the ground and burying her face in her hands.

                Deniah felt her heart stop beating and her stomach twist. Gray Skies tensed beside her and his grip on her hand tightened. Slowly Eagle Feather emerged and looked around at the tribe; their attention fixed on him.

                “He is gone. Big Sky has moved on in his journey in this life.”

                A great sadness swept over the clearing and it was felt by one and all. Old and young. Dark and pale skinned.

                Deniah could not believe the harshness of it all. She had only just met Big Sky, only just gotten to experience his joyful spirit and acceptance and now so quickly he had been ripped away from her—from the world.    

                She felt a tear escape from her eye and roll down her cheek as the drums once again began to play a mournful sound. The beat was slow, steady and as if the clouds themselves knew of the people’s sorrow they let loose with a slow and steady rain.

                “Gray, are you okay?” Deniah asked gently when he remained as still as stone beside her and did not move.     

                “Yes,” he replied without emotion. “We should offer our help to prepare for his burial tomorrow.”

---

                Deniah had never been so sad and angry in all of her life. Not even when Matthew had shot her crow and she had believed him dead.

                Gray Skies had quite literally been given the cold shoulder by his people. No one would speak to him, no one would allow him near Big Sky’s teepee where the man was set up for those who loved him to say goodbye. Neither he nor Deniah were permitted to eat of the food that the tribe had prepared or to go anywhere within the clearing other than Gray Skies teepee.

                Gray Skies had not wanted to stay cooped their and so they were spending the night curled up on a blanket in the woods beside the rocks and Cliffside that Gray Skies was so fond of.

                “Gray, I love you,” Deniah whispered as they lay there cloaked in darkness. They could very faintly hear drums in the distance but other than that the night was filled with only silence and the occasional hoot of an owl.

                “I love you too, Fire Hair,” Gray replied, holding her a little tighter. She had her head rested against his heart and took comfort in its steady beat.

                “We will not be able to stay here will we?” Deniah asked, hating the truth she knew she spoke.

                “We will find out tomorrow after Big Sky is buried. It is then that they will let their decision about us be known,” Gray Skies replied simply but Deniah knew he was only attempting to give her hope. The only friend they had here was Eagle Feather and he alone would not be able to convince everyone else to let them stay.

                “I wish I could have known Big Sky more so than I did. He seemed an incredible man.”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies voice was laid with pain and Deniah lifted her chin and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “He knew that it is the heart of a person that makes them who they are. Not their family or their skin.”  Gray Skies sighed and kissed her hair, “Sleep now, Fire Hair. Tomorrow will be a long and hard day.”

                Deniah nodded and nestled herself close to Gray Skies warm body and the safety and comfort he provided. She was sorry for the death of Big Sky and sorry also that it meant she would never be Gray Skies wife. His people would not perform the ceremony and Deniah knew that hers would not either.

                She told herself it did not matter and that she and Gray Skies did not need that simple ceremony to know that they shared heart and souls—however that didn’t stop her from wishing.

---

                Gray Skies did not shed a tear for Big Sky as he watched the man be laid to rest to someday become one once again with the earth and feed the soil. He knew that Big Sky had lived a good and full life and had seen and done nearly everything there was for someone to experience.

                However as the last handfuls of dirt were being tossed atop the mound he began to fear for Deniah.

                Would his people demand her death now that Big Sky was gone? Would they demand that her life be the payment for Bear Claws?

                Eagle Feather came to Gray Skies and Deniah who were standing hand in hand on the outskirts of the clearing. His eyes were sad and his face aged beyond its years from grief, “The elders wish to speak to you both in Big Sky’s teepee.”

                Gray Skies squeezed Deniah’s hand more firmly and yet refused to show his unease on his face. He could feel eyes on him from all directions and so he kept his head high and his eyes focused forward as he led Deniah to the elders. He was proud when he knew she was doing the same behind him.

                She was so strong and had faith in him to keep her safe and make sure everything was okay. That was one of the greatest gifts a woman could give a man; her faith and her trust. Gray Skies would never do anything to lose either.

                They stepped in the teepee and the smell of pipe smoke was thick in the air. Gray Skies glanced at Deniah then and saw her eyes looked uncomfortably red and irritated already. He led her to the empty place in the furs and they both sat with five elders staring hard at them with their dark eyes and wrinkled faces.

                “Gray Skies, you have disappointed your people greatly,” White Feather, an elder from a separate camp of the Ghost Tribe said sternly. Gray Skies simply tipped his head, refusing to apologize or show remorse. “Do you feel no guilt over that?”

                “No. Fire Hair is my true destiny and I will follow her to wherever life takes us. Be it here among my people or out among her own.”

                “So your decision is made before we ask you to make it?” Green Leaf demanded calmly his brows raising up nearly to his hairline.

                “Yes it is.”

                The elders bowed their heads together and whispered so lowly that Gray Skies could not hear them. He rolled his shoulders and then he growled low when Deniah spoke, “Why does there have to be a decision made?”

                Five sets of dark eyes turned her way as Gray Skies continued to stare only at the elders, “You have no right to speak here,” White Feather stated.

                “You called me to this meeting yourself. You should not have done so if you did not wish to hear me speak—“

                “Fire Hair!” Gray Skies scolded.

                “No, let her speak,” White Feather broke in with a tilt of his head.

                Deniah shifted awkwardly on the fur and sat up straight, tossing her red braid over her shoulder, “Gray Skies is a good man and a strong man. I know that my brother took another strong and brave man from your people and I am more deeply sorry for that than you can ever realize. My brother and father are both dead now—killed in a mudslide that nearly too my own life as well. Gray Skies saved my life and in doing so he has given me a new life. I know that my skin is a different color but my heart is with Gray Skies and already I am learning your words and he has taught me much about your ways. My home is wherever Gray Skies is and I will do everything to make him proud and help your people.”

                “Our people need no help from pale skins,” Green Leaf snapped sharply. “Your people are a plague upon this land and one that has brought about the death of all of our people and every other native tribe. You bring your sickness, your disease, your greed and your guns and you run us off our land, kill our animals, tear down our forests, murder our people.”

                “I have murdered no one,” Deniah countered as she met Green Leaf’s gaze head on. Gray Skies was proud of her bravery and he could see that White Feather was intrigued by it as well. However Gray Skies knew it wouldn’t be enough.

                “Bear Claw’s death demands atonement and while we would have wished to have seen the pale skin who murdered him die before our eyes we are still happy he is dead,” Green Leaf stated coolly. Gray Skies felt Deniah tense and he squeezed her hand gently, offering her strength. “Because the man who killed him is dead we will not spill your blood in payment however you cannot stay here. We will not have you around our people. Already you know too much and should be silenced—“

                “You can try to silence her,” Gray Skies voice was low, cold and even and he knew there would be no mistaking the threat it held.

                “Gray Skies, you have become insolent, disobedient and not what a Ghost is supposed to be. You anger the great mother and the three sisters with your actions and we cannot risk their wrath,” Gray Skies knew what was coming next and he tensed slightly as he met Green Leaf’s cold, dark eyes. “Gray Skies you are hereby shunned by our people. You must leave now and take your pale woman with you. You will take nothing except the clothes on your backs and it is only out of respect to Big Sky that we allow you those.”

                “You can’t—!” Deniah began but Gray Skies silenced her with a sharp look.

                “They can and they have.”

                A young boy of no more than eight winters ran from the teepee and Gray Skies heard him relaying the news to the tribe.

                He got to his feet and helped Deniah rise as well. He saw the tears in her gray eyes and shook his head, “Do not show them your pain, Deniah. When wounded we must learn to bury our pain and press on because to show weakness is to die. Hold on to me and I will help give you strength.”

                Gray Skies saw her swallow hard and nod before lifting her chin.

                He led her from the teepee with stiff legs and a proud back despite the pain in his heart. He had lost his brother, his father, Big Sky and now his entire people.  He also knew that the walk out of the clearing would be a hard one.

                Just as he had known the moment they left the teepee the yells, jeers and cries began. Mud, dirt, rotten food and even small stones were hurled at them. Deniah cried out with shock but then swallowed hard again and walked tall beside him with her hand hanging onto his for dear life.

                When a rock struck her arm, Gray Skies growled at the woman who had thrown it and nearly lost control of the animal spirits within him. It took much willpower to force the beast to once again rest.

                Eagle Feather came and walked on the other side of Deniah in an effort to shield her from what was being thrown, though he could not shield her from the harsh words, many of which Deniah would not understand and for that alone Gray Skies was grateful.

                “I am sorry for this, my brother,” Eagle Feather whispered.

                “It is the ending I expected,” Gray Skies replied quietly, refusing to wince when a large rock struck his side, “Though I had hoped it could be different for Fire Hair’s sake.

                Gray Skies did not draw a truly easy breath until they entered the woods and had walked several hundred yards from the clearing.

                Eagle Feather shook Gray Skies’ hand and gave Deniah a brotherly hug before turning and heading back.

                Deniah was shaking now and tears soon began to pour down her freckled cheeks. Gray Skies knew not what to do or say so he simply pulled her into his embrace and held her tight.

                “Gray, that was so terrible,” she whispered. “I am so sorry…. Your life would be so much better if you had simply let me drown in that river!”

                “ Tla! ” Gray Skies shook his head and pulled her away so he could look into her swollen gray eyes, “Have I not told you that you are my life? I am no longer a Ghost. Now I am simply your man and together we will face whatever the future may hold for us.”            

                “But if you are shunned will you lose your ability to shift?” Deniah whispered, as Gray Skies gently swiped the wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs.

                “I do not know. They claim those shunned will lose their abilities but that could be simply to scare tribe members into behaving. I have never truly seen anyone be shunned.”

                “Gray Skies, I’m sorry,” Deniah looked so sad, so broken hearted that Gray Skies felt his own heart twist.

                “No more apologies, Fire Hair. I made my choice and if given one hundred more chances I would choose the same.”

                Deniah glanced around them at the darkening woods, “Where will we go?”

                “I do not know,” Gray Skies answered honestly. “But I will keep you safe wherever it is. You will have me beside you.”

A/N: I’m pretty sure of where i’m going and how i’m going to end this now. We’re pretty darn close to being done. A lot of the rest of the story will focus on Matthew as well as Deniah and Gray Skies. Thank you all so much bearing with me while i’m going trough this funk with this story! I’m trying my best to not give up and right now the creative juices are flowing for it so I will be focusing on this and ‘To Love a Wild Irishman’ until I have them both complete :)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Heart of a Ghost

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Heart of a Ghost

                Deniah felt sorrow and shame deeply as she walked beside Gray Skies. The forest and mountain paths were pitch black to her eyes but she knew that Gray Skies could see and so she simply followed him; trusting him.

                She had no idea why the man loved her so. She had cost him everything. She had cost him his brother, the love of his father, the love of his people….

                Deniah sniffed back her tears and Gray Skies stopped walking, turned and pulled her against his chest, “Do not shed tears, Fire Hair.”   

                “But Gray, I have cost you so much.” Didn’t he realize that!?

                “You have cost me nothing. Bear Claw chose to jump in front of that bullet and the choice to leave my people to come to you was mine alone. You bear no fault in that decision.”

                Deniah sighed and buried her face in his soft deer skin tunic as her teeth worried at her bottom lip, “I should have let you go. I should have lied and told you I did not love you so. Then you could have stayed with your people….”

                “Foolish woman,” Gray Skies shook his head and kissed her hair. “I would not have believed your lies. We have known one another too long. I know your mind, I know your heart just the same as you know mine. Do not trouble yourself over what we are leaving behind but instead look at the future. We have one another Deniah and no one can take that away from us.”

                Lightning lit up the black sky from miles away and thunder rumbled in the distance. Gray Skies pulled away from her and took her hand in his, entwining their fingers, “Now I must find you shelter for the night before the storm hits.”                

                “Where will we go?”

                Gray Skies remained silent and thoughtful. Then he glanced down at her and sighed, “I see you attacking your lip once again,” he grumbled and she flushed guiltily and forced herself to stop her chewing. “What is on your mind?” he asked gently.

                “We cannot live among your people and neither of us wish to live in a town among my own. Why do we not go back to my family cabin? It is small and simple and miles from anything. It can be our own place away from the harsh judgments of others. There is food in the cellar and the fields have already been readied for planting.”

                Deniah saw a flicker of unease in Gray Skies’ dark eyes but then he nodded, “Yes, we can go there.”

                “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing,” Gray Skies assured her but Deniah frowned and put her hands on her hips.

                “Do not lie to me, Gray Skies. It pains my heart when I know you are being untruthful.”

                “I never want to pain your heart, Fire Hair,” Gray Skies assured her. “I.. I simply worry that there will be many bad memories for you at that home.”

                “Perhaps,” Deniah found herself chewing at her lip once again and shrugged one shoulder, “But there are many good memories there as well,” she lay her hand on his sharply angled cheek, “That is where I met my crow.”

                Gray Skies covered her hand with his own and smiled, “Then let us go there.”

                Deniah followed Gray Skies as they once again began walking, this time with more purpose as they actually had a true destination. Deniah was surprised how well Gray Skies seemed to know this path but knew she shouldn’t be. He must have covered these mountain miles hundred, perhaps even thousands of times to come and see her.

                Her legs began to ache but she offered no complaint and still they walked. Deniah nearly cried out with relief and happiness when she saw The Witching Tree come into view.

                “We’ve made it,” she whispered.

                “Yes,” suddenly Gray Skies seemed very tense. “You will wait here, Fire Hair. I will become the crow and go check on things.”         

                “What things?” Deniah questioned.

                “It has been weeks since anyone has been here. I will ensure that no one else has taken up residence. It is the middle of the night and I do not want gunshots fired if we intrude on them.”

                Deniah was angered at the thought that someone might have moved into her home but she understood that Gray Skies was right, “Okay, I will wait here for you to return.”

                Gray Skies removed his knife and laid the leather encased blade in her hands, “Use this if you must,” he advised and she swallowed hard but nodded.

                Then Gray Skies stalked into the night leaving Deniah alone in the dark.

---

                Gray Skies was afraid and that was an emotion he did not have much experience with. He had lied to Deniah weeks ago when he had told her that he knew her family was dead because he had known that she was better off without those men.

                But what if they were not.

                What if they were at the cabin?

                Gray Skies did not wish to imagine the pain he would see in Deniah’s eyes if she learned of his dishonesty.

                He walked out of her line of sight and shed his clothes. He hoped those men truly were dead and he would find the cabin empty. Deniah did not need those men in her life and Gray Skies would not allow them to be. He had seen too many bruises on her skin caused by their angry hands. He would gladly kill them in order to save his woman further pain.

                Gray Skies closed his eyes as the cool night breeze blew across his bare skin and he thought of the crow. The change happened nearly instantly, his body so accustomed to the shifting of bone and the sprouting of slick black feathers that it happened nearly without effort.                

                In seconds Gray Skies was standing on the forest floor, his talons in the leaves and his feathers ruffling with the light wind. It would seem that being shunned did not instantly take away his abilities; though it may be something that happens over time. Only time would give him that answer.

                While Gray Skies would miss that which made him who he was it was a small sacrifice to make to have his Deniah by his side. She was worth any sacrifice.

                He hopped once and then spread his wings and took off into the sky, gliding easily with the air currents. His eye settled on the cabin and he flew in slow circles high above, slowly coming lower with each passing loop.

                He looked for any sign of life but saw none. There were no wagons or carts parked beside the barn and no lanterns on the cabin. The cabin door was still wide open just as he had left it the night he had gotten Deniah’s letter. Gray Skies landed in the window of the barn and realized there were no horses. There was no one here; no one was calling this place home.

                Gray Skies felt a huge relief wash over him. Jonathon and Matthew must be dead and they would no longer be any threat to Deniah.

                It was with a much lighter heart that Gray Skies returned to his clothes and shifted back to a man. He let the breeze dry the sheen of sweat from his skin before sliding into his leggings. He hooked his tunic over his arm, deciding to go without as the night air was warm enough.

                He moved silent as the night itself through the forest and saw Deniah standing beside The Witching Tree where he had left her. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her teeth were chewing at her lip for all they were worth.                    

                Gray Skies loved the sight of her white teeth against her full bottom lip though he was very concerned that soon she would draw blood, “Fire Hair, you must stop punishing your lip so,” he scolded gently as he came up behind her and slid his arms around her wrist.

                Gray Skies felt a smile tugging at his lips when instead of tensing at his sudden presence, she relaxed into his touch and sighed happily. He knew she could sense his presence just the same as he could sense hers.            

                “The cabin is empty and whole, Fire Hair,” he assured her quietly. “We can head there now if you are ready.” Gray Skies knew it would be difficult for her to return to this cabin. This place that held so much pain for her and the memory of those she had lost.

                She turned in his arms and gazed up at him with love in her gray eyes, “I am ready.”

                Gray Skies took Deniah’s hand in his and led her through the darkness. They reached the clearing where the cabin sat and Deniah’s steps faltered, “Are you okay?” Gray Skies questioned.

                “Yes,” Deniah replied after several seconds, “There are simply many memories here.”  

                Gray Skies nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Gray Skies grabbed the lantern beside the door and lit it before they entered the empty cabin. Their footsteps seemed to echo on the dusty floorboards and the air felt heavy around them.

                “It is so dirty. I will clean it well tomorrow,” Deniah whispered. Gray Skies saw her eyes go up to Matthew’s loft and then to her father’s closed door, “We will sleep in my room for now,” she added.

                “Are you tired?” Gray Skies questioned.

                “Yes,” Deniah sounded exhausted and Gray Skies was fatigued as well. It had been a very long, trying two days full of heartache and sadness. A night of sleep would do them well.

                He led Deniah to her bedroom, the lanterns glow casting shadows on the wooden walls around them. He sat the lantern down on her bedside table and slid Deniah from her clothes, kissing her pale, freckled shoulders. She trembled but Gray Skies knew her mind was not on lovemaking and so he simply slid beneath the stiff, dusty blankets and pulled her down beside him.

                “Sleep, Fire Hair. Leave all your thoughts and worries for tomorrow and simply sleep,” Gray Skies urged as he rubbed her back gently and she curled herself around him.

                “I love you, Gray.”

                “I love you too.”

---

                Deniah woke up to the chickens greeting the day. She was confused for a moment when she saw her bedroom curtains and wondered if the last month had only been a dream until she heard Gray Skies heart beating beneath her ear and realized it had all been very much real.

                She slid from the bed, quickly donned her clothes and left the bedroom, surprised that Gray Skies continued to sleep.

                Deniah looked around the interior of the cabin after she had closed her bedroom door behind her. Things were a mess. Dirt, dust and cobwebs were everywhere. It was strange how quickly an unlived in house fell apart.

                Deniah pulled the curtains from the windows and sunlight streamed inside. She carried those curtains out onto the porch and dropped them in a pile before making her way to the outhouse to relieve herself.

                Once that was done she headed toward the chicken coop and was happy to see that somehow most of the large hens had managed to survive. The coop had been left open and the hens had lived on bugs and seeds. It looked as if a fox or coyote had taken a few but there were still seven hens which would produce plenty enough eggs for Deniah and Gray Skies.  

                Deniah stepped into the barn then to see if the corn for the chickens had been left untouched and the instant she stepped in she became lost in thoughts. Thoughts of Matthew and the threats and harsh treatments she’d received from him the last time they’d been together.

                That hadn’t been Matthew. The man who had grabbed her so roughly and caused her such pain had not been the brother she had loved so dearly. It had been a man full of an unexplainable rage and hate made worse by his addiction whiskey.

                Suddenly a pair of strong arms circled her waist and Deniah leaned back into Gray Sky’s warm embrace, “More tears, Fire Hair?” Gray Skies whispered gently. “What can I do to end them?”

                “This is a good,” Deniah replied as she turned in his arms, rose on her toes and kissed him. The kiss was meant to be gentle but it quickly turned hungry and passionate as Gray Skies took over the kiss. He grabbed her waist gently and pulled her body long against his. Deniah could feel his hunger for her pressing against her and it caused her heart to pound.

                Gray Skies touches were tender as he rid her of her dress and leggings. Deniah felt a blush color her cheeks as Gray Skies’ hungry eyes caressed her body. His mouth was soon devouring her, his warm breath heating her skin and his tongue teasing every inch of her body and causing her to call out his name and cling to his shoulders as he dropped to his knees.

                Her passion climbed until she was panting and pleading desperately, “Gray, please… I need you!”

                Gray Skies growled and it was only then that Deniah realized he had taken off his pants while he’d been pleasuring her. Without a word and with his brown eyes dark with need, Gray Skies took her by the hips, lifted her up and Dneiha put her legs around his waist. In one fluid movement, Gray Skies gently braced her against the wall of the barn and then slid himself deep inside her.

                Deniah gasped at the sudden intrusion but then quickly became lost in the pleasure as Gray Skies began to move within her.

                Sweat slicked their skin as they rocked together and their moans mingled in the early morning air.

                Deniah felt herself rising higher and when Gray Skies stiffened and spilled his warmth inside her, it sent her tumbling over that edge and she cried out Gray Skies’ name as he buried his face in her neck and whispered hers against her skin.

                Gray Skies set her back on her feet and they helped one another back into their clothes. Gray Skies turned her around and his fingers began redoing the braid that had slipped loose in her hair.            

                “I cannot believe we just did that in the barn,” Deniah whispered as her cheeks grew hot.

                “I want to have you everywhere, Fire Hair. Anywhere there is a bad memory I will replace that with a good memory until you have no memories left of the bad.”

                Deniah smiled and leaned back against his chest as he finished with her braid, “Will you be happy here, Gray? I know you are accustomed to sleeping in teepees and under the stars…”

                “I will be happy wherever you are, Fire Hair. There was a time when my people lived in houses much like your cabin but it was many years before I was born. Now my people live in teepees so they can quickly disappear like the Ghost. We are no more than a myth to even other Cherokee.”

                Deniah leaned into him once again as they stood there in silence. She didn’t remind him that according to his people he was no longer one of them. Gray Skies had the heart of a Ghost and she knew that’s what he would always be.

A/N: now that gray and deniah are settled in I believe it’s time to go back and check on Matthew.

Chapter Twenty-Eight Devils and Demons

“All my life, all my dreams, all I had is lost it seems. All my life, all my days keep on turnin’ there’s a devil in me. All my life, all my days, keeps on turning there’s a devil in me. Find it hard to see the light in the kingdom I behold. I see him in the morning. I see him in the night. I see him in the morning. I see a devil in my life.” Jamie N. Commons ‘Devil in Me’

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Devils and Demons

                “Look at you!” Jessica exclaimed proudly, “You’re walking all on your own!”

                Matthew felt his chest swell with pride though honestly his leg was already throbbing from the four or five steps he had taken, “It’s been long enough,” he replied.

                “Yes but it’s been a week less than we thought it would be,” Jessica countered and Matthew couldn’t help but find joy in her happy smile. Her smile deepened that tiny cleft in her chin and made her big blue eyes shine.

                “I had a good nursemaid,” Matthew replied. A blush colored Jessica’s cheeks and Matthew reached a hand out to smooth a stray hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch and Matthew felt his heart pick up a faster rhythm in his chest.

                “Nice to see you on your feet,” Fred’s voice came from behind Matthew and he quickly jumped away from Jessica, twisting his leg incorrectly.

                Pain shot through him and he grunted with it as he felt himself falling. Fred’s arms were quickly around his middle and he was pulled up against the man’s rather impressive gut, “Let’s get you back up on the porch,” Fred stated.

                Matthew felt Jessica’s tiny hands on his other arm as the two of them helped him back up the porch steps. He was limping heavily and let out a sigh of relief when he finally sat down in the rocking chair.

                “I hate being so weak,” Matthew mumbled, smacking the arm of the chair angrily.

                “You’re so much stronger already,” Jessica assured him. “It will only be a matter of time before you’re back to who you were before the accident.”

                “Jessica, why don’t you go on out to the garden now and pick us some lettuce for lunch,” Fred ordered as he pulled off his glasses. Jessica nodded, scooped her basket from the porch and headed off around the house toward the gardens, “Do we need to have another chat about staying away from my daughter, son?” Fred asked as he wiped his glasses on the sleeves of his white shirt.

                Matthew shifted in his chair, “No, sir. I remember just fine how you feel about me and your daughter.”

                Fred studied him a moment and Matthew held his gaze. He was tired of being told Jessica was off limits. The woman was beautiful, kind, soft, sweet and intelligent. She was what Matthew wanted in his wife—hell she was who Matthew wanted for his wife. He had known her a month and a half now and he had fallen pretty damn hard for her.

                “From where I stood it appeared you forgot.”

                “No, I didn’t forget.”

                “Does that mean you no longer care what my wishes are then?” Fred’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Matthew sighed. He was in a difficult position. He owed this man immensely for finding him, saving his life and helping to restore him to health and yet at the same time he wasn’t willing to simply walk away from Jessica because her father said he had to.

                “Sir, I’m falling in love with your daughter and I’d like to make her my wife.”

                Fred was silent for several long moments and the air was tense between them, “What do you have to offer my daughter?”

                “A home, a farm that’s always supplied our family real good and two working hands and a solid back to see to providing for her. And sir, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure Jessica had what she wants for the rest of her life,” Matthew vowed, knowing it was the truth.

                “Jessica spoke to me just the other day,” Fred finally replied, his voice quiet as he sat in the chair beside Matthew’s. “She spoke of you and I saw something in her eyes that terrified and enlightened me.”

                Matthew spared a glance at Fred only to realize the other man was staring hard at the mountains around them, “What was that sir?”

                “She had the same look in her eyes when she spoke of you that her mother used to have in her eyes when she looked at me. My daughter deserves better. She deserves a man who can set her up in a fancy home and support her while she chases her dreams.”

                “Sir, I…”

                “But I believe she’s already chosen what she wants.” Matthew swallowed hard and didn’t hardly dare to hope that Fred was saying what it sounded like he was saying, “Now, I’ll expect you to be good to the girl and I know you have to be getting back to your sister and helping to care for her but I would like to travel with you and Jessica when you return to your home and if possible find a home in the town nearer to you.”         

                Matthew tried to swallow and nearly choked, “Sir, I haven’t even asked her yet! I don’t know that she’ll say yes.”

                “I do,” Fred sighed and placed his glasses back on. “You seem a good man, Matthew. I know you cannot remember the last four years of your life but surely you have not changed too drastically from the man you woke up as. You have my blessing to pursue my daughter.”

                “Thank you, sir,” Matthew said as he held out his hand and Fred shook his firmly.

                “Don’t you hurt that girl,” Fred warned.

                “I won’t. I promise.”

                Fred rose from his chair and made his way toward the barn and Matthew stayed where he was in the chair and simply tried to wrap his head around what had happened. Fred had been against Matthew and Jessica from the moment Matthew had awoken in their guest room and now he was giving Matthew his blessing—it was a big change of heart but one Matthew was thankful for.

                He wished he could remember the last four years. He hadn’t had anymore flashbacks or memories since he’d been at his father’s gravesite all those weeks ago. And he had finally forgotten that craving for whiskey that had nearly driven him crazy for a while. Instead it was Jessica he craved. He loved the sound of her gentle voice as she read to him late at night having snuck to his room after her father had fallen asleep.

                Matthew saw her making her way back toward the porch with her basket full of lettuce leaves and he pulled himself to his feet. She smiled when their eyes met but Matthew was too nervous to smile.

                He was about to ask a woman to marry him. What if she said no? Worse what if she laughed at him and said no?

                Maybe he shouldn’t ask!

                “Matthew, you look as pale as a ghost!” Jessica exclaimed with worry as she quickly hurried to him and laid her hand over his brow as if checking for fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

                Matthew snorted and gently moved her hand away, “I’m fine, Miss Bailey. I’m not some delicate little bird you gotta tend to.”

                “Sorry,” she muttered as she bit her lip and looked down at her feet.

                Matthew sighed. Hell he hadn’t meant to snap at her. He just wanted her to see him as a man. When she looked at him, he wanted her to see a strong capable man who could take care of her instead of her constantly needing to take care of him. He was tired of being her sick patient, “I’m sorry,” he offered. He put his finger under her delicate chin and lifted her gaze to him, “I’m feeling just fine, Miss Bailey. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

                “Oh okay,” a smile lit up her face once again and Matthew felt a weakness in his legs that had nothing to do with his newly mended bones, “Just let me put this basket in the kitchen and I’ll be right back out.”

                Jessica disappeared into the house and Matthew began to wonder how he was going to ask her to marry him. Should he ask her to go into town for a nice dinner with him—scrap that idea, Matthew had no money and therefore no way to treat her to dinner.

                A picnic? Hell she would have to pack it.

                Maybe just coming out and asking her would be the easiest way to do this—but then what was he supposed to say? How did you ask a woman to marry you when you had nothing but a small cabin in the middle of nowhere to offer her…. Or at least you hoped you had that cabin to offer her. What if the cabin was no longer there? What if sometime within the last four years his family had moved or lost that house? That was something he’d never taken the time to consider.

                What if home wasn’t even where he left it.

                Matthew became lost in those thoughts and didn’t hear the horse riding in until Jessica’s voice whispered with dread from behind him, “Why is he here again?”

                Matthew looked up to see a fancy dressed man with slicked back hair, polished shoes and a gold chained pocket watch hanging across his middle walking their way. Matthew instantly felt possessiveness toward Jessica fill him. This was Benjamin Thomas. He was a banker and claimed to be madly in love with Jessica.

                Matthew had only seen him once before, two weeks ago when he’d shown up and been run off by Jessica’s father. Fred might claim he wanted his daughter with a man who could take care of her financially but when Jessica had shown no interest in Benjamin, Fred had known that wasn’t the correct man.

                “Do you want me to take care of him?” Matthew asked quietly.

                Jessica laid a comforting hand on his arm and smiled up at him, “I’ll see what he wants. It might simply be an innocent visit.”

                Matthew doubted that. Benjamin Thomas seemed the kind of man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer and wasn’t accustomed to not getting his way. He watched Jessica step off the porch and Benjamin smiled brightly at her, his square teeth glinting in the sunlight.

                “Good morning, Jessica!”

                “I think it would be best for you to call me, Miss Bailey,” Jessica countered politely. “What brings you out this way today?”

                Benjamin’s smile faltered a bit but he plastered it quickly back into place, “I wanted to pay a visit and say hello. I was a bit upset over how we parted ways last time. Where is your father?”

                “He’s out back in the barn,” Jessica replied. Matthew tensed. Fred wouldn’t even know that Benjamin was here and Benjamin seemed happy about that. The slick man’s eyes went up to Matthew then.

                “I see the cripple has finally managed to get out of his chair. How does that leg feel?”

                Matthew felt his fists clench with irritation, “My leg feels just fine.”

                “Well that’s good,” Benjamin turned his attention back to Jessica, “Could we take a walk, Je—Miss Bailey?”

                “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Mr. Thomas. I hate to give you a false hope,” Jessica replied, retreating onto the steps.

                Benjamin’s hand shot out and caught Jessica by the wrist, “It will only be a simple walk, Jessica, with a bit of conversation.”

                “I…” Jessica was clearly trying to pull her hand away but Benjamin was not allowing her too, “I don’t think so,” she replied, her voice trembling.

                “Why don’t you let go of her now?” Matthew demanded coldly as a protective anger boiled in his blood.

                “Why don’t you mind your own business, cripple?” Benjamin shot back.

                “The woman doesn’t want to speak to you,” Matthew retorted.

                “She just doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Benjamin sneered, tugging on Jessica and causing her to cry out in pain.

                Matthew limped forward and shoved Benjamin back. The man loosed his grip on Jessica and stumbled backward, “You’ll keep your hands off her.”

                “I was here before you and I will be here long after you have said your goodbyes,” Benjamin sneered. “Jessica is mine.”

                “You need to go on now,” Matthew warned. This feeling of rage in him was something unfamiliar and foreign. It was as if it was a living creature swimming in his veins and he simply wanted to unleash his fury on something or someone .

                “Oh I get it…” Benjamin chuckled, “You fancy her yours do you?”

“Mr. Thomas—,” Jessica began but Matthew held up his hand.

“Yes, yes I fancy her mine,” Matthew squared his shoulders, “And you need to get out of here.”

Benjamin snorted, “Stop protecting that whore. Did she tell you that she allowed me to kiss her—?” Benjamin’s words were cut off when Matthew launched himself through the air and tackled him to the ground.

                Matthew’s vision went black as he straddled the fancy man on the ground and began landing punch after punch to his face. He could hear Jessica screaming in the background but it did not stop him.

                It felt good to be stronger than someone! After so many years of being beaten down by his father, of being weak, it felt good to have the power.

                Suddenly Matthew felt himself being torn away from Benjamin and tossed backward. He was faintly aware of Fred’s voice before his head struck the porch steps and pain replaced the rage, blinding him completely.

                “Matthew!” Jessica exclaimed.

                Matthew curled into a ball in the hard dirt, cradling his head as flashes of images began playing inside his mind. Memories, they came flooding back like a sickness. Four years of Matthew’s life came crashing back at once and Matthew cried out with the pain and the shock of it.

                His father, on his back at Matthew’s feet as Matthew rained down kicks on his body and tears flowed over Matthew’s cheeks as he finally showed his father what it felt like.

                Whores gasping with pain as Matthew took them roughly, eager to show them that he was indeed powerful.

                Deniah looking at him with fear in her wide gray eyes as he gripped her arm roughly, shoved her, harassed her, humiliated her just to prove that he was not a helpless boy any longer.

                The need for whiskey raged to life in his blood and then the sound of a gunshot rang out but it wasn’t in the present, it was in the past. A gunshot, Deniah screaming, an Indian, Deniah’s man, crying out with rage and another Indian falling to the ground with a hole in his chest from Matthew’s gun.

                He remembered the bruises on Deniah’s face caused by his harsh treatments, laughing at her pain and then the mudslide, the fear in her eyes as they had tumbled over the edge of the cliff and then nothing………..

                Matthew’s eyes flew open and he saw Fred and Jessica staring down at him with concern and fear as Fred held Jessica tight. Matthew got to his knees and then retched into the dirt, throwing up his breakfast.

                He was a monster!

                A devil.

                There was a devil in him!

                He grabbed the banisters and pulled himself to his feet, “Are you alright, son?” Fred asked cautiously.

                Matthew simply shook his head, unable to look at them. Unable to face them after what he now knew of himself.

                He had hurt his sister and he had murdered a man. The thought of that had him vomiting violently once again.

                “Matthew…. “Jessica’s hand was on his arm and Matthew jerked away.

                “Stay away from me!” he screamed. “I’m no good for you! I’m no good for anybody.”

                Matthew saw Benjamin’s horse, as well as Benjamin who was sitting on his backside in the dirt and looking bloody and scared. Matthew didn’t hesitate before jumping into the saddle and galloping quickly toward town.

                He had to get away from Jessica before he hurt her just the same as he had hurt the only other person he’d ever truly loved—his sister.

A/N: I highly reccomend listening to the song on the side and watching the video if you can. It’s pretty powerful stuff.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Whiskey

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Whiskey

                “Papa, I’m going to go find him,” Jessica told her father defiantly. “He rode toward town and I intend to make sure he’s okay.”

                “You heard him, Jessica, he said to stay away from him,” Fred countered. “And I want you to do just that until we find out what’s going on inside his head. I will take Benjamin into town and see to Matthew. You will stay here.”

                “Papa, Benjamin deserved what he got from Matthew, as terrible as it was,” Jessica rushed to defend Matthew and Benjamin grumbled and glared as he stood up and brushed off his pants.

                “I beg to differ—“ he began, swiping blood from his lip.

                Fred glared at him and had Benjamin’s mouth snapping shut, “You dared to lay hands on my daughter and call her a foul name. You will be speaking to the sheriff when we do arrive in town.”

                Benjamin seemed upset by this development but in too much pain to offer much in the way of argument.

                “Papa, I’m coming,” Jessica spoke up, finding that it was difficult. She had always prided herself on being an obedient daughter and minding her father’s wishes, but just now she was more concerned about Matthew than her father.

                Matthew had a kind and caring soul. They had spent hours each night talking, laughing and getting to know one another. She was not bothered by his attack on Benjamin however the ferocity of it startled her a little. It had seemed almost as if Matthew had been seeing someone else’s face when he’d been beating Benjamin’s.

                And then there was the look in his eyes as he’d pulled away from her and ran. It had been a look of pain, disgust and sadness so profound that it tore at Jessica’s heart.

                She cared about Matthew, truthfully she loved him and had fallen deeply over the time he had spent here with her and her father.

                “Jessica Bailey—“ her father began but Jessica stood her ground and met his eyes pleadingly.

                “I love him, papa. Something is wrong and I want to help him. He won’t hurt me.”

                “You can’t be sure of that,” Fred countered, glancing at Benjamin’s bloody face.

                Jessica nodded and laid her hand on her father’s arm, “Yes I can. He won’t hurt me, papa. He loves me too, I just know he does. I can help him if you’ll let me.”

                He wanted to argue, Jessica could tell but then, after a moment, he nodded and offered her a faint smile, “You are so much like your mother. You see a bird on a cliff with a broken wing and while the whole world shouts at you to leave it be you shake your head and climb on that cliff after it. Go ready two horses and bring a bit of extra rope for our guest.”

---

                Matthew stood before the mirror of the hotel and stared hard at himself. It had all come back to him now. He was a monster. A woman beater, a bully, someone who beat others down to make himself feel more powerful… he was his father.

                Though he was also something else now… he was a murderer. It mattered not to him that the man he had killed had been an Indian. A life was a life and Matthew had stolen a man’s life without any remorse at the time.

                God he felt remorse now.

                Worse than that he felt a hatred deep down in his soul. A hatred for himself. For the man he had let his father and the whiskey turn him into.

                He could remember Deniah trying to reach him when his whiskey obsession had first begun to rule his life.

                ‘Matthew, I love you and you are not yourself sine you’ve been drinking so heavily. I need you, Matthew, please do not go drinking tonight.’

                Matthew had scoffed at her, laughed at her, called her a fool and with the whiskey from the day before still burning in his blood he had gone off to find more. Deniah hadn’t understood! She hadn’t understood his pain, the guilt of knowing he’d caused his mother’s death and the physical pain of the beatings he had received his entire life, the beatings he had protected her from.

                But those days were over now. His father was dead. Deniah was dead. The man that Matthew had been before the accident was dead. Matthew had no doubt that she had died on that wagon in that landslide. Her body hadn’t been found beneath the mountain of mud and rocks but surely it had been there. Now Matthew just longed to be dead as well.

                He looked down at his hands. In one he clutched an unopened whiskey bottle and in the other a loaded revolver. Now there was only one decision to be made. To drink and forget a while before he ended his life or to simply get the trigger pull over with.

                He had nothing. His sister was dead and she had died hating him. He had murdered a man in cold blood and laughed about.

                Matthew’s stomach rolled and if he’d had anything left in it he would have been throwing it up into the wash basin. He thought of Jessica and shook his head, swallowing hard as he met his own hard brown eyes in the mirror. Matthew was a murderer and an abuser. Jessica damn well deserved better than that.

                A flash of the pain in Deniah’s eyes as Matthew grabbed her arm flashed through his mind again and Matthew cried out with rage and pain and threw the whiskey bottle with all his might. It crashed against the far wall sending glass and whiskey alike spraying across the room.

                Damn that whiskey!

                Damn his father!

                Damn himself………

                Matthew raised the gun to his temple with a trembling hand. Tears ran down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He might as well do the world a favor and remove himself from it. His finger was tightening on the trigger when a knock came to the hotel room door.

                “Matthew?”

                Matthew froze as that voice washed over him like a cool balm on a searing burn. That gentle, soft voice that had read to him, spoken to him, helped to pass the terrible dragging hours while he’d been waiting for his leg to heal.

                “Go away, Miss Bailey,” he whispered through the lump in his throat.

                “Let me in,” came Jessica’s soft reply.

                “No. You don’t need to be anywhere near a man like me.”         

                “Too late.  I’ve spent a lot of time around you, Matthew, and you’ve never once hurt me. Don’t hurt me now. Please let me in.”

                Matthew lowered the gun. He couldn’t pull that trigger with Jessica on the other side of the door. He wouldn’t do that to her. He’d hurt enough people in his life, “I’m not going to let you in, Jessica. Go on now.”             

                “No, I won’t abandon you, Matthew. I…I love you.” Matthew froze and the gun clattered to the floor, “Matthew, are you okay?!” Jessica exclaimed with near panic.

                “I’m fine, Jessica. You should leave,” Matthew managed to mumble.

                She loved him. The woman he loved and wanted to spend his life with loved him back. It was a fate crueler than any other that Matthew could imagine. He was a monster and he would not allow Jessica to stay around him and risk herself. There was a devil inside of him and Matthew didn’t want Jessica becoming a victim of that.

                “Matthew, I only asked out of politeness. I have the spare key and will let myself in if need be.”

                Matthew loved the way his name sounded on her lips and hated it all at the same time. He had no right to love her.

                “There are things you don’t know about me, Jessica. Things that would have you running the other way if you knew them.”

                Mathew heard a sigh on the other side of the door. He thought she was finally going to walk away and he wasn’t sure why his heart broke so badly at that thought. Wasn’t that the outcome had had desired? Hadn’t he wanted her to walk away from him?

                Then the sound of a metal key in the lock reached his ears and the door swung open.

---

                Jessica had left her father downstairs though it had taken a lot of convincing to do so. She wanted to talk to Matthew alone and she knew her father would only cause him to put up the walls that were always guarding him when her father was around. She knew it was because her father had warned him away from her and that irritated Jessica to no end.

                She loved her father and wanted to make him proud however who she chose to give her heart to was of no concern to him. He had raised an intelligent, resourceful daughter who could make her own decisions.

                So when Jessica opened that door and saw the pain, the hurt, the hopelessness and the tears on Matthew’s face she decided then and there that whatever the man had remembered, whatever he was facing, she was going to face it with him.

                “Oh, Matthew…” she whispered. She quickly closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly while pressing her face against his broad chest.

                He stiffened at first and Jessica wondered if he was going to push her away but then his chest heaved in a heart wrenching sob and he wrapped his arms around her almost painfully tight as his hot tears soaked through her hair.        

                Jessica held back her own tears, knowing he would need her to be strong just now, and led him toward the bed where they sat down side by side though Matthew kept his arms around her and she rested with her head on his chest.

                “Talk to me, Matthew. What did you remember?”

                “Everything,” Matthew replied, his voice a broken shell of what it had once been.

                “Tell me about it,” Jessica urged.

                “No,” Matthew shook his head and pulled away from her. “If I tell you then I’ll lose you.”

                Jessica smiled at him and dropped to her knees in front of him. She looked up into his pain filled brown and rested her hand on his stubble covered cheek, “There is nothing you could tell me now that would cause me to turn away from you. I know the man you truly are, the man you have been these past weeks. You are kind, caring, warm and determined. You are no monster and you are certainly not ‘no good for anybody’ as you said before. Have a little faith in me just the same as I have faith in you. Talk to me.”

                After several long, tense and quiet moments Matthew did as she said and began to talk. Jessica sat on her knees and listened attentively careful to keep her face emotionless even during the more terrible parts of his tale.

                He told her of growing up and having a father who was always heavy handed and impossible to please. His father had pushed Matthew to be more and yet no matter how much Matthew did it was somehow never enough. He spoke of his sister, Deniah, and how he had guarded her from that side of their father because he hadn’t wanted his sister to feel that pain.

                He poured out his heart about the guilt he felt over knowing he’d brought the sickness home that killed his mother and the way that changed things for the worst between him and his father. Jessica fought hard not to cringe when he opened up to her about the beating he had gotten upon returning home the night they’d buried his mother.

                Then his story took a much darker and uglier turn. He told her about the whiskey and the way it had taken over his every thought and desire, shortly after it began to change him, slowly morphing him into a man that he no longer recognized. A man who laid roughly with whores, abused his sister and even shot an innocent Indian man.

                “It feels so odd to look back on it like this. I don’t feel as if it were me that did these things. It feels as if I’m simply reading a storybook about a monster only when I get to the end there is a mirror and I realize the monster is me.” Matthew let out a long shuddering sigh but his eyes had long since run dry. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting to leave now and I do not blame you.”

                Jessica stayed there on her knees, staring at his chest for several long quiet moments. Did she want to leave?  Was she afraid of him and the past that was eating at him so terribly? She probably should be but the truth was that she was not. Matthew was not a mean man and he was no monster.

                “I’m not going anywhere,” she stated with finality as she looked into his eyes.

                She saw him stiffen, his throat bobbed and his eyes widened, “Are you insane?”

                Jessica laughed lightly, “Perhaps. But I also know that the man I stayed awake talking with so many nights, the man who made me laugh and blush and fall so deeply in love with him is no monster.”

                Matthew sighed heavily and rubbed his face, “But I am. The things I did were terrible….”

                “Yes they were and the things that happened to you were terrible and the whole situation was terrible and now it is over. Though I will make one request for our future.”

                “Our future…?” Matthew asked slowly as if fearing she was suffering from brain madness.

                “You’ve got to give up the whiskey.”

                “I want it bad,” Matthew replied swallowing hard, “And that makes me want to blow my own head off. I was about to before you knocked on that door.”

                Jessica swallowed hard and felt a tear run down her cheek, “Thank the Lord I got here when I did then. And from now on when you want whiskey, come find me and we’ll get through it together. Replace whiskey with me, Matthew.”                

                “I don’t deserve you, Jessica. Hell I don’t deserve to breathe after the things I’ve done and the people I’ve hurt. My sister loved me and I loved her something fierce and she died with bruises on her skin and hate in her heart caused by my hands.”

                “Oh Matthew…” Jessica rose up and hugged him again and in the next instant she was pressing her lips to his. She had no idea what had driven her to be so forward but she had wanted to ease his pain and a kiss had happened.

                Matthew groaned against her mouth and pulled her closer. His fingertips danced up her arms and his hands cradled her face with so much gentleness that it was easy to understand why he felt as if someone else must have done the horrible things he remembered.              

                Jessica felt her body soaring with the tender kiss that Matthew placed upon her. There was nothing forceful or dominating about it and yet she still found herself short of breath when he pulled away and laid his brow against hers, “I love you, Matthew. I want to be your wife. I want to stand beside you and help you through this. I want to be your whiskey….”

                “I don’t know…” Matthew whispered. “I don’t know if I can…”

                Jessica nodded and stood, though her heart was heavy as she did so, “I will be at my home. I will leave you one of our horses so that you do not get arrested for horse theft. When you come back to return the horse then I’ll have my answer.”

                When Matthew didn’t reply and simply stared down at the worn out wooden floors beneath his boots, Jessica nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

                She was terrified. Would Matthew ever come back? Would he take his own life or would he simply run away and fall back into his old demons? Only time would tell. Jessica had done all that she could do, she had lain all her cards upon the table and the rest was up to him.

                “Well?” her father demanded as she stepped out of the hotel and he rose from the bench.

                “He’s a man with terrible demons, papa, but he can overcome them if he’d simply allow himself to be happy again.”

                “He doesn’t want to be happy?”

                Jessica sighed and allowed her father to slip his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him and nestled her head against his chest, “He doesn’t believe he deserves it.”

A/N: The next chapter will have Deniah and Gray Skies (I promise!) Jessica is truly a strong woman and while not much of the story has focused on her character I wanted to show some of that strength… even if it is a bit of a naive and hopeful strength

Chapter Thirty: Lies

Chapter Thirty: Lies

                Deniah smiled as she kneaded her bread dough on the countertop and stared out the window at the beautiful day they had woken up to this morning.       

                It had been nearly three weeks that she and Gray Skies had been living here and any worries Deniah might have had about Gray Skies living in a pale skins home had been thoroughly done away with.

                They worked hard together. They kept the garden free of weeds, tended the chickens and the two new cows, the three pigs and the mule. Deniah had sold off her father’s belongings to pay off his debts in town and purchase things that she and Gray Skies would need.

                Gray Skies had shaken his head and said he did not understand the ways of the pale skins and their ‘money’. He said it was their greed over that monetary symbol that would be their downfall and it kept them from truly enjoying life as the Great Mother had intended. Deniah had simply smiled and agreed with him but paid the debts just the same.

                Deniah laid her bread in her pan and set in her oven to bake before pulling her chicken out of the buttermilk she’d been soaking it in, rolling it in corn meal and tossing it on a hot skillet. She was going to make Gray Skies favorite meal today, fried chicken.

                It was sure to put a smile on his face.

                Deniah heard footsteps on the porch and it drew her from her thoughts. The steps had been far too heavy to be Gray Skies who often could not be heard coming and simply appeared with his arms slipping around her waist.

                She wiped her hands on her apron, glanced at the gun beside the bedroom door and decided against grabbing it. She stepped to the front door and pulled it open to find the store clerk from town standing with his hat in his hands preparing to knock.

                “Mr. Mason!” Deniah exclaimed with surprise. “What brings you here?”

                “Well I was….” His voice trailed off and Deniah knew it was because he felt eyes burning holes in his back. He turned his head and swallowed hard when he saw Gray Skies standing several feet behind him. Deniah knew that Gray Skies made the quiet and shy store clerk nervous. Mr. Mason had nearly passed out three times when they’d been in his store buying supplies.

                It had been a rough shopping experience to be sure. Many townsfolk had been downright rude and cruel but Gray Skies had held his head up high and Deniah had done the same.

                “Come in, Mr. Mason,” Deniah urged as she took a step back.

Mr. Mason shook his head but before he could speak aloud his denial, Gray Skies stepped forward and motioned toward the open door, his sharp eyes holding threat, “Fire Hair invited you in, will you not do as the woman wishes?”

                “Uh….” Mr. Mason swallowed hard and Deniah rolled her eyes. She would never understand the fear others felt for Gray Skies simply by looking at him…. Though she would have to talk to him about his intensity level when inviting guests in. “Sure, I suppose I could come in for just a moment.”

Deniah led Mr. Mason to the table in the kitchen and the man sat down while Gray Skies hovered nearby as if ready to deal with the trembling shop keep should he pose a threat.

Deniah laid her hand on Gray Skies’ arm and smiled up at him, “He’s a guest not a threat,” she whispered.

“He is also pale-skinned and I do not trust him.”

“You sound very much like a Ghost at this moment,” Deniah snapped, her temper flaring. She left Gray Skies standing there with a frown and went back to the table.

“Are you hungry, Mr. Mason? Supper will be ready shortly or I have some sugar cookies already baked and I can make some coffee,”

                “That won’t be necessary, Miss Williams, I cannot stay long. I am on my way to visit my mother and since I was going to be passing by here Gunther down at the post office told me to bring a letter out to you.”

                “A letter?” Deniah tilted her head and laid her hands in her lap. “A letter from whom?”

                “It says it’s from your brother, ma’am.”

                Deniah felt her world tilt a little. Her eyes went to Gray Skies but he would not meet her gaze and instead went to the skillet and began to turn the chicken, “My brother is dead, Mr. Mason.”       

                “Well maybe it’s an old letter. You know how the post can be at times.”

                Deniah took the worn envelope from Mr. Mason’s hand and stared at it with confusion. Mr. Mason rose to his feet and excused himself though Deniah was in too much shock to politely see him out. She glanced at Gray Skies but he was facing away from her and his posture was tense.

                Without a word, Deniah opened the envelope and pulled out the folded parchment within. She  opened it and was confused at first by the feminine handwriting until she began to read,

Dear Deniah,

I got a new friend of mine to write this letter since I knew you’d have trouble reading anything I wrote. I know how you love you tease me about my ‘chicken scratch’ as you call it. I want to let you know that I’m okay. I’m not sure how long papa and I have been gone and I know you’re probably worried sick about us.

There was an accident on our way to Cedar Hills and you may want to sit down before you read the next part of this letter, Papa is dead and I’m hurt and laid up with a nice family that’s taking care of me.

It’ll probably be another month before I can head back home. I hope you’re okay. I have some other bad news but it can wait until I get home. I’ll get back just as soon as I can so please be careful and take care of yourself until I’m able to.

Love,

Your Brother

                Deniah sat there in stunned silence for a long time simply trying to process this letter and what it meant.

                Matthew was alive.

                He was hurt.

                And he sounded like his old self. Not the Matthew who had been mean to her, pushed her around, killed Bear Claw and laughed in her face about it but the Matthew who had taken her to skip stones and snuck into her room to build blanket forts for them to sleep under and tell ghost stories.

                What was going on?

                Didn’t Matthew remember anything? Didn’t he remember that Deniah had been caught up in that landslide as well? It sure hadn’t sounded as if he had remembered much of anything.

                Gray Skies plopped a plate full of freshly fried chicken onto the table and Deniah gasped with surprise at the sudden sound and then looked up at him.

                He had lied to her.

                The realization of that had tears gathering in her eyes and her heart twisting painfully, “Fire Hair….”

                “Don’t!” Deniah exclaimed as she leapt to her feet. She shoved the letter toward his chest and he took it though he did not look at it. “You lied to me!”

                “I had to,” Gray Skies replied quietly. Deniah could tell he wasn’t sorry for it—sure he may be sorry that he was caught and his lie was found out but he wasn’t sorry that it was told in the first place.

                “No you did not have to, Gray! All those tears I cried over my brother and wishing things could have ended differently! All those talks we had about how heartbroken I was that he died hating the world and that I felt so much hate in my heart for him and you stood there and claimed to care about me…!” Deniah’s voice broke.

                “That is not fair. You are all I care about and you know that to be the truth. Your body and your spirit were both beaten down and you needed to focus on healing yourself instead of worrying about him.”

                “And later?” Deniah demanded. “Once I was well on my way to health, why did you not tell me the truth then?”

                “Your life was better without that man in it,” Gray Skies replied unapologetically.

                Deniah shook her head as hot tears of both sadness and anger burned her cheeks, “That was not your call to make. Of all the people in this world who I believed would hurt me, you were certainly never on that list, Gray.”

                “Fire Hair, I never want to be the cause of your pain,” Gray Skies swallowed hard as he stepped toward her but Deniah took a step away. She was not ready to forgive him yet and if he touched her she was certain she could stay as angry as she knew she had a right to be.

                “Then you should have thought before you spoke a lie to me…. Especially a lie so grevious and heart wrenching!”                

                Gray Skies shook his head, squared his shoulder and stood tall with pride, “I will not apologize for the lie I told. Those men did nothing but cause you harm and heartbreak and I had truly hoped they were indeed dead.”

                Deniah glared at him a moment and then turned and left the cabin. Curse him and his stubborn pride! Never in her most painful nightmares had Deniah imagined that Gray Skies would do something to cause her so much hurt. She thought for a moment that Gray Skies would follow her but he did not and she was glad. She was so angry just now that she was not sure what she might say or do that she would regret once she had calmed down—if she calmed down.

                Her brother was hurt and there was something very wrong with his mind. He had sounded in that letter like the brother he’d been years before—not like the man who had tumbled over that mountainside.

                Had he seen the error of his ways and given up the whiskey?

                Deniah walked to the river, pulled of her ankle boots, sat down on the bank and dangled her toes in the water. She felt no sadness over learning her father was indeed dead. She had already mourned for that man once and she would not do so again, not after what he had put her through.

                No, what had her heart breaking was Gray Skies deceit. He had seen her hurting and instead of telling her the truth about their being a chance her brother was alive, Gray Skies had instead pretended to help her mourn his death.

                A new tear ran slowly down her cheek and she wiped at it with the back of her hand.  Pain was always worse when you loved the one who caused it so deeply. Deniah was confused. Should she load up and head toward the address on the envelope her brother’s letter had been in? Or should she simply wait for him to return seeing as how it was clear he had forgotten all about her being in the wagon that had gone over the mountain.

                Did that mean he’d also forgotten about shooting Bear Claw?

                Deniah’s eyes widened at that possibility. If something had indeed happened to Matthew’s memory and he was once again the brother she remembered from the past then learning about the monster he’d become would destroy him.

                Deniah had no idea how long she sat on the river bank lost in her thoughts of Matthew and her hurt over Gray Skies’ deception. It could have been hours or merely minutes that the water rushed gently past her and she stared down into the current lapping at her ankles.

                The sound of a crow’s caw drew her from her thoughts and Deniah looked up to see a crow circling lazily above her. She glanced back toward the cabin wondering if Gray Skies was still inside…….

                When the crow slowly came lower and then landed beside her with a ruffling of feathers she knew that he was not.

                “A crow, Gray? Do you think I won’t be just as angry at you in crow from as human form?”

                Gray Skies hopped a step closer, tilted his head and studied her with his brown eyes that were the same color no matter what form his body took.

                “You had no right to lie to me that way, Gray. I know that Matthew became a monster but he has been sick and hurt and he has needed me and I thought him dead! Did you read the letter? Did you not realize in those words he wrote that something is wrong with his mind now? He does not remember anything,” Deniah clenched her fists with the unfairness of it all. “You stood beside me and watched me mourn for a man that you knew was not lying dead.”

                Deniah did not understand why but saying all this allowed to her crow truly seemed to be helping her. Already her temper was fading and her hurt was lessening. She understood Gray Skies’ reasoning, truly she did.

                She understood how badly it hurt to watch the one you love be hurt by the people who were supposed to love them always and she knew the desperation that you felt inside to protect them from that pain. Gray Skies had simply been doing what he thought was best for her. Deniah would simply have to convince him to never lie again—lying to her was never what was best.

                Gray Skies hopped onto her lap and nuzzled his head against her cheek, “I love you, Mr. Crow,” Deniah whispered. “Do not ever lie to me again. The truth hurts but lies hurt more. My heart could not take it if you were dishonest to me ever again.”

                Gray Skies looked into her eyes and even without words and with his body in the shape of a crow, Deniah could see straight into his soul and she could hear his unspoken promise to never mislead her again.

                “Now, I would like to go and eat a meal with my Indian so if you would be so kind as to lose the feathers and join me…..”

                Deniah did not even have time to finish speaking before Gray Skies jumped off her lap and within seconds was standing before her in all his lean, bronze glory. He lowered down his hand and Deniah took it before he pulled her to her feet and crushed her against his broad chest.

                Deniah was well aware of the fact that he wore no clothing and that familiar heat began to build in her veins though she was in no real mood to act on it.

                “Please know that what I did I did because I thought that it was best. I will not make such a mistake again, Fire Hair. I will never mislead you. The hurt I saw in your eyes was worse than any physical pain I have ever endured. I never want to see you look at me that way again,” Gray Skies whispered against her hair.

                While Deniah knew it was not technically an apology she also knew it was as close to one as she was going to receive and it was truly the best Gray Skies had to offer her…. And it was enough.          

                She hugged him tightly in return, “I love you, Gray.” Then she pulled away just enough to look up at his face, “Why did you come to me as a crow instead of a man?”

                “You love animals, Fire Hair, and it would not have been in your nature to strike a crow,” Gray Skies replied, his lips twitching ever so slightly at their corners.

                Deniah shook her head, “I would never strike you and you know that.”

                Gray Skies tipped his head and smoothed a stray hair from her face, “Always before it was your crow that came to you in your time of need. Your crow that sat on this riverbank and listened to you speak. I thought it might help you to do the same with him again.”

                Deniah nodded, “Your thoughts were correct. I have to think of what to do, Gray. Should I go after Matthew?”

                Gray Skies shook his head, “According to his letter and the date he should be arriving here within the next few weeks. If he has not come within a month’s time we will travel to the home he is healing in and we will see to him. I do not wish to leave and somehow miss him coming to be here. That will only cause him extra worry over his sister.”

                Deniah nodded, her Indian was quite smart, “But Fire Hair….” Gray Skies added warningly, “If he lays even one angry finger on your skin, if his mouth spouts out the poison it so readily shot at you, if he causes you a single moment of heartache due to his hate and anger, I will not hesitate to make my lies become the truth. Your brother will die by my hand and I will not be sorry for it.”

                Deniah swallowed hard and felt her temper burn a little higher. She knew that Gray Skies meant every word he was saying and she could not argue with him despite her natural instinct to defend her brother. Matthew had hurt her in the past and had said terrible things. Matthew had been the one to pull that trigger and kill Gray Skies own brother.

                When Matthew came back things would certainly get tense around here and Deniah would simply have to stand beside her man and support whatever decision Gray Skies made concerning her brother. Matthew had made his bed and now it would seem it would be up to Gray Skies whether or not he had to lie in it.

Chapter Thirty-One: Good and Evil

Chapter Thirty-One: Good and Evil

                Matthew stepped from the hotel and looked up and down the muddy street. It seemed fitting somehow that it had begun raining after Jessica had left the day before and the rain had only just let up moments ago. After a full night of rain the streets were a mess and as he crossed the road to the livery it only took moments for Matthew to have mud splattered up to his knees.

                He owed both the mercantile and the saloon money now but they had agreed to let him wire them their payment once he reached home, because home was where he was going. He had to go back to the cabin he’d shared with his family. Matthew had a lot to come to terms with and work his way through and he wanted to do that in the place where his monster had been created.       

                That’s what he was calling what he had been before the accident. A monster. He was unwilling to say it was the man he was now that had done those things because it wasn’t. Matthew would never murder a man, Indian or white, in cold blood. Matthew would never lay an angry hand on his sister, or any woman for that matter and Matthew would never drag another person down just to make himself feel stronger.

                No, it had been a monster that had done those things but Matthew knew that monster still lived inside of him somewhere and it terrified him that the monster might once again surface.

                That was why he was leaving Jessica with her father. He loved her with all his heart but he needed to make sure he could control his demons before he tried to build a life with her. She was a good woman and if he failed and once again became the monster then he didn’t want Jessica becoming his victim.

                Matthew readied his horse with a heavy heart. He had wanted to end his life but after Jessica’s pleas with him he had known that he couldn’t. He could not be that selfish. He had taken a man’s life and so it was his duty to spend the rest of his life trying to make amends for that and do all the good he could. He had to do something to even the scales though he knew not what he could possibly do to get that done.

                He led his horse into the daylight, glanced up at the cloud covered sky. This was going to be a hard goodbye. He had to go back by Fred’s place and ask to borrow the horse with the promise to send money for it and his hospitality once he returned home….. and he had to say goodbye to Jessica.

                He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to do that and he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He wanted her to wait on him but knew he couldn’t ask her to. She was a beautiful, vibrant, intelligent woman and deserved a good man—there was a real good chance that Matthew would never be that.

                The long ride to Fred’s house flew by because Matthew was dreading his task so badly. He saw Fred on the porch and the man stood as Matthew dismounted, held the reins in his hand and approached, “Hello, sir.”

                “Hello, Matthew,” Fred’s eyes were looking him up and down with a disapproval that was like a punch to Matthew’s gut. “I think it’d be best if you just got along now before Jessica realizes you’re here. I’d just as soon my daughter had nothing more to do with you.”

                Matthew swallowed hard, “She told you?”

                “No,” Fred sighed and rested his hands on his large belly. “She did not betray your confidence however I am a smart man and have seen the haunted expression on her face as she has thought about what you revealed to her. You will stay away from my daughter, Matthew.”

                “Papa?” Despite the anger in Jessica’s voice it was still the most soothing sound that Matthew had heard in his life. The pain he felt did not disappear upon hearing the sound but it did lessen, becoming something more bearable—and that was without even laying eyes on her face.

                Before Fred or Jessica could speak further, Matthew tipped his head, “I understand Mister Bailey and I’ll be leaving. Could I keep your horse, sir, and wire you the money for her once I am home?”

                “Yes, that will—“

                Jessica came around her father, silencing him and nearly knocking Matthew back several steps with her beauty. She was softness, innocence and light—the complete opposite to the monster he knew was living inside of him. She was the good to his evil…. and she was angry.

                “Are you walking away from me, Matthew? Even after our talk yesterday you are simply going to ride off and pretend that I never existed?”

                “Of course not…” Matthew threw an uneasy glance at Fred.

                Jessica turned to her father, “Papa, we’d like some privacy.”

                “No,” Fred countered.

                Jessica shook her head, stepped toward him and kissed his whiskered cheek tenderly, “Everything’s gonna be just fine, papa. Let me speak with Matthew privately for a moment.”

                Fred glared over at Matthew, the threat clear in his eyes, and then he sighed and walked into the cabin, closing the door behind him. Matthew swallowed hard when Jessica whirled back around to face him, the ends of her golden hair whipping around her shoulder.

                “Where are you going?” she questioned.

                “Back to the home I shared with my father and sister,” Matthew replied without meeting her gaze. Her blue eyes were too tempting and drew him like a moth to a flame. He could not afford that weakness just now.

                “Why are you going there?” Jessica asked quietly, wrapping her arms around herself.

                “I need to,” Matthew replied. He knew he owed Jessica a good explanation and hell after what he had shared with her yesterday he knew he could tell her anything. He swallowed hard, glanced at the cabin and then reached out and gripped her gently by the upper arms. Her eyes came up to meet his and Matthew simply stared into their blue depths for several moments, “I love you, Jessica. I heard everything you said yesterday and you are everything I have ever wanted,” Matthew saw her eyes light with happiness and he shook his head sadly, his heart breaking a bit, “But we cannot be together.”

                “Why… why not?” Jessica asked, her spine stiffening and her bottom lip trembling slightly.         

                “There’s a monster in me, Jessica. A monster who hits those weaker than himself just to prove he’s tough. A monster who shoots a man in cold blood and laughs about it. A monster who takes what he wants from who he wants and doesn’t care how badly it hurts them,” Matthew released his hold on her arms and let his hands fall away,  “You deserve a hell of a lot more than me.”

                Jessica studied him a moment and then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest and hugging him tight.

                Matthew knew she’d be able to hear the way his heart raced when she held him like this. He felt his defenses crumbling just as they had yesterday when she had come into that hotel room and done this same thing. And just like yesterday, Matthew was unable to do the right thing and push her away. Instead his arms slid around her and he held her close to himself, breathing in the scent of jasmine that seemed to cling to her hair.

                “I don’t want more than you, Matthew, I only want you. And you cannot leave without me because I have a feeling that you need me.”

                Matthew knew she was right. God he needed her. Just seeing her, hearing her voice, holding her this way, made him believe that there might be hope for him after all. That maybe, just maybe, that monster wasn’t really inside of him and he had the potential to be a truly good man.

                “Jessica, what if I hurt you? What if I can’t stay away from the whiskey or I can’t control my temper? What if I…”

                Jessica pulled away and laid her hand on his cheek. Matthew leaned into her touch shamelessly, “You won’t hurt me, Matthew. I know your soul and it’s good and pure. Whatever demons had a hold of you will not get you again.” What touched Matthew most was her complete and utter lack of uncertainty and doubt. She truly seemed to believe with her whole heart every word that she was saying. Matthew wished he could be just as certain.

                Matthew frowned, “How can you be sure?” He knew he sounded like a scared child but right now that’s what he felt like.

                Jessica smiled and the sight took his breath, “Because I’ll protect you. You cannot leave me. Who will read to you when you cannot sleep at night? Nearly every night you’ve been here you’ve had trouble sleeping and I can tell by those rings around your eyes that you did not sleep at all last night either. You need me, Matthew.”

                “Jessica…”

                She stomped her foot in a display of temper that was both surprising and endearing as she glared up at him, “Stop being so annoyingly stubborn!”

                Matthew was surprised when he nearly laughed out loud, “I’m not the only one being stubborn just now.”

                A blush colored Jessica’s cheeks as she continued to gaze into his eyes, “I understand that you’ve done terrible things, Matthew, and that you grew up having terrible misdeeds done to you as well but you are not that man you were before your accident. You would never hurt me and I don’t believe you’ll ever touch whiskey again either.”

                Matthew shivered, “No, I won’t,” he replied, though he still craved it in the back of his mind he knew he would never again drink the poison that had helped fuel the monster.

                “So let us stop having this ridiculous conversation that is doing nothing other than hurting us both.  I need you, Matthew, and you need me. If going back to your family home is what you need to do then let me go with you. How do you feel you’ll succeed more in keeping away your demons? Completely on your own with your guilt and pain or with me standing beside you, helping you face them with my hand in yours?” Matthew sighed and Jessica took a step back, folded her hands in front of her and simply stared up at him. She shrugged and tilted her head, “It’s up to you.”

---

                “I want to marry your daughter, sir.”      

                Fred Bailey stared at the man in front of him and contemplated how long it would take to reach his shot gun and put a few pieces of buckshot into his backside.

                Had it really been just yesterday that Fred had given Matthew his blessing to marry Jessica? Now Fred would rather be dead first. He had heard what Jessica and Matthew had discussed outside. He had heard Matthew admit to being a murderer and an abuser. Had he been eavesdropping? Yes he had. Was he ashamed? Hell no. This was his daughter he had to look out for! 

                “No,” Fred stated without hesitation.

 Matthew shifted his feet and scratched at his hair, “Sir, I love her and I am the same man that just yesterday you gave your blessing to. I won’t hurt her and you have my word on that.”

“How can you give me your word on that?” Fred snapped. “You did not even know until yesterday what kind of man you really are! Are you a wanted man because of that murder you committed? Is my daughter going to be married to a man behind bars or a widow to a man hung at the gallows?”

Fred saw Matthew’s eyes become haunted. His shoulders tightened and his throat bobbed before he responded, “No sir, I’m not wanted. That man was an Indian and jumped in front of the bullet that I had intended for another Indian.”

“There are no Indians around here,” Fred countered as he sat down in his chair beside the fireplace and glanced at the afternoon sky. He saw Jessica out at the chicken coop and could see her talking to herself and waving her hands with her words just as she always did when she was nervous. She must know that Matthew was asking his permission for them to wed.               

“They were Indians, sir, and while that doesn’t lessen the severity and ruthlessness of what I did, it does exempt me from the gallows or the prison cells.”

“And what of the women you beat?” Fred asked, his blood burning a bit more hotly knowing he had been the one to insist they bring this man here to heal. It had been him that had put a man around his daughter without knowing if that man was a danger to her. “Am I going to be finding bruises on my daughter’s flesh every time I see her if I agree to let her marry you?”

Matthew met his eyes now and Fred saw honesty in their brown depths, “No, sir,” Matthew vowed with a shake of his head. “I am not the same monster who did those things, sir. Many things led up to me becoming that monster but he is not who I am any longer. I will have to live with the nightmares and the guilt of knowing what I’ve done in my past but that will only help to make me better in my future. How many of us would do things differently and change our ways if given a clear view of what we were becoming or had become?”

“I’m sorry, Matthew,” Fred said with a heavy sigh. “I cannot allow my daughter to marry a murderer even if it was an Indian he murdered and I cannot give my blessing for her to marry a man who, while his intentions seem true, may one day fall back into old habits and cause her harm.”

To Fred’s horror Matthew’s eyes reddened around the edges but he swallowed hard and nodded quickly as he clenched is fists at his side, “I understand, sir. I tried to tell Jessica as much but she seemed determined….”

“Papa, I will marry him,” Jessica’s voice spoke from the door.     

Fred and Matthew both turned their heads to face her and Fred grumbled under his breath when Matthew’s arm rose sideways and Jessica slid beneath it, “Jessica, this man is a monster and not the sort of man to be thinking of settling down with.”

“You are correct,” Jessica conceded with a nod which had Matthew frowning down at her. She smiled up at him with a brilliantly glowing happiness that made Fred’s heart twist, “And that is why I wasted very little time ‘thinking on it’ and decided very quickly that this is the man I want to share my life with, papa. He is a good man with a kind soul. Life dealt him a cruel hand and he broke under the pressure but he is back now and he is strong and together we will face whatever else life brings to us to face.”

Fred put his face in his hands and rubbed roughly. When had his daughter gotten so mature and wise? What had happened to the freckled face blond with pig tails and a dirty dress chasing chickens around the yard and laughing happily? What had happened to that girl with candy around her mouth kissing his cheeks and proclaiming that she loved him more than anything else?

He looked at his daughter and realized that life had happened. Time had happened. His little girl had grown up and become a beautiful, vibrant and wise woman much the same as her mother had been.

“Jessica, I don’t know…..”

He could see the sadness in his daughter’s blue eyes and it broke his old heart. She slid from beneath Matthew’s arm and walked toward him, stopping a foot away, “Papa, I am marrying Matthew in town tonight with or without your blessing,” Fred felt his heart break and then Jessica’s hand was resting against his cheek, “But I truly wish you’ll choose to be there, papa. No man will ever take your place in my heart.”

Her gentle kiss to his jaw had Fred’s resolve buckling. He swallowed hard and nodded, “I can see your mind is made up in this matter and I am not willing to risk losing my daughter’s love,” he turned his gaze to Matthew, “You have my blessing to marry my daughter but I want to warn you—“ Fred put his finger under Matthew’s nose, “If I ever find a single mark on her skin from your angry hands, if she cries a single tear because you have wronged her or dishonored your vows, I will make you suffer whatever pain she suffered tenfold. Are we clear on that, boy?”

Matthew nodded stoically and held out his hand, “Crystal clear, sir! I swear to you that I won’t hurt her!”

Fred shook Matthew’s hand and then was nearly trampled as Jessica shoved her way past him and threw herself into Matthew’s arms. Matthew laughed happily and spun her around the sitting room, though he only spun her a couple times before his healing leg had him limping to a stop and setting her down.

“So are you dead set that it has to be tonight?” Fred asked his daughter.

“Yes, papa,” Jessica replied with a smile as she gazed up at Matthew. Fred was certain he saw that familiar glint of hunger that was in any man’s eyes when he looked at the woman he loved when Matthew gazed back down at Jessica. Fred felt his fist twitch but managed, in a rather great feat of self-control, to keep himself from beating the look right back off the man’s face.

“Then we should be getting into town then, it’s a long ride.”

A/N: Probably only 3 chapters or so left. Big reunion coming up in the next chapter. Wonder how things are going to go………

Chapter Thirty-Two: Tense Reunions

Chapter Thirty-Two: Tense Reunions

                “Gray, I need your help.”

                Gray Skies smiled when he heard Deniah call for him from within the barn. He had told her she would need help in reaching the oat sack up in the loft but she had argued that she would have no trouble at all and for him to go on about his own chores.

                He laid down the axe he’d been using to chop wood, rolled the tight muscles in his shoulders and entered the barn.  Deniah was standing there and looking quite disgusted with herself as she pointed up toward the oats which were just barely out of her reach, “Help.”

                Gray Skies chuckled quietly. He was above saying ‘I told you so’ but he had told her so. Without a word, Gray Skies grabbed the oat sack and hefted it down, laying it gently at her feet.

                “Do you also need me to open it?” he asked, fighting back a smile. He loved seeing that spark in her gray eyes whenever he riled up her prideful temper.

                “Gray, why do you tease me so?” she demanded as she pulled her own dagger from her skirt, “I can open a sack on my own.”

                “I tease you because it brings me pleasure,” Gray Skies admitted before laying a gentle kiss to her brow.

                She wrinkled her nose, “You are covered in sweat.”

                Gray Skies nodded as he stepped away from her. He was wearing only his buckskin leggings and he watched her eyes travel the length of his body. Instantly his blood fired and arousal stirred in his veins, “Yes, I have been chopping wood. You do not seem to mind overly much.”

                Deniah’s lip slipped into her mouth as she began to chew on it rapidly and then turned away from him, “There is quite a bit of work to be done today,” she reminded him.           

                Gray Skies shook his head, stepped closer and let his body brush against hers. He felt her tremble as he lowered his face and buried it in the side of her neck. Licking and nibbling, Gray Skies made his way to her ear, fully aware of the way she was gripping the wall for support as her knees weakened.

                “The work will be waiting,” he assured her.

                “Gray, please….” She whimpered and he froze. “I don’t feel well at all today. I’m so tired.”

                Instantly Gray Skies forgot about his own desire, stood straight and spun her around. He saw it then, the paleness in her cheeks and the circles around her gray eyes, “Are you ill, Fire Hair?”

                Deniah shook her head, “Just very tired.”

                “Then you will rest,” Gray Skies stated as he swooped her up into his arms and she squeaked with surprise.

                “What are you doing?!” she demanded. “I was working.”

                “And now you are resting. The work is nothing I cannot manage on my own. You need rest.” Especially if Gray Skies suspicions about her fatigue were correct.

                “Gray, honestly, you have to stop being so protective of me….”

                “That is not going to happen,” Gray Skies replied sternly as he carried her into the cabin. “You are my soul, my life, I am going to always be concerned with your health and well-being above anything else.”

                “Isn’t it the way of the Indians to ignore their own suffering and work through it?” Deniah questioned. “I feel as if I should still be in the barn.”

                Gray Skies shook his head as he carried her into the bedroom that had once been her father and mother’s but was not their own. Deniah had removed everything that would remind her of her father and had already begun filling it with things from nature. It seemed his Fire Hair had an obsession with crow feathers judging by the amount of them filing glasses around the room. Honestly Gray Skies found it quite flattering.

                “Not among my people. When a man finds the woman he wants to marry, the woman who completes his soul, he does everything to make sure she is cared for. It is simply our way. The animal spirits inside of us are very protective of the one we love Caring for you and protecting you I will do until I am no longer breathing air on this earth so I would suggest you simply get used to it.”

                Gray Skies emphasized his words by laying her in the bed and covering her with the soft quilt she had made since they’d returned. She’d used some of her mother’s dresses which would never have fit Deniah’s curvier frame and the quilt was one of the softest that Gray Skies had ever felt upon his skin.

                “I love you, Gray. You are too good to me.”

                Gray Skies smoothed Deniah’s red hair from her brow and kissed it tenderly, “It is easy to be good to a woman as strong and loving as you are, Fire Hair. Now rest,” he stood straight and she offered him a sleepy smile before he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

                Gray Skies stepped out into the sun and smiled. He could easily change to an animal with a powerful sense of smell and confirm his suspicions but he felt no need. He already knew why his Fire Hair was so tired.

                She was growing their child warm within her womb.

                A pride filled Gray Skies unlike any he had ever known. A child born with the strength of him and Deniah combined would be a child unstoppable by this world. Unstoppable by the judgments and the hatred. An owl hooted in the distance and while Gray Skies could tell it was only an owl it still dampened some of his happiness as he thought of his brother and his people.         

                Only they were no longer his people. He had been shunned which meant he was dead to them. Even Eagle Feather had not come to see him and Deniah but Gray Skies did not blame the man. To come see someone who was shunned would be a punishable offense.

                Gray missed his friend and his people but he had a full heart now with Deniah and soon their child would join them. This life was different but it was one he loved and would not trade. If given the choice to make all over again Gray Skies would make the same one. A life with his Fire Hair beside him was worth any sacrifice.

                Gray Skies got back to his work and soon had the firewood cut and stacked. He went into the barn to feed the mule. He was just finishing that when his ears picked up the sound of a cart approaching.

                His back tensed. This cabin was miles from the main road and that cart was coming down the path to the cabin. Who would be coming here? Gray Skies did not trust many of the pale faces they had seen in town and was thankful that town was hours away. Some had merely looked at him with fear but others had looked at him with disgust and hate, which had not bothered him nearly as badly as when they had gazed upon Deniah with those same emotions.

                If this was someone coming to harm his woman, physically or with harsh words, Gray Skies would put a stop to them. This world needed to leave them alone. They simply wished to be together and Gray Skies could not understand why everyone seemed so opposed to that simply because their skin was different colors.

                He slipped from the barn and remained out of sight as he went around the chicken coop. He kept his eyes on the path and after several long moments the cart came into view. There was an older man with an impressive stomach and graying hair driving the cart with a slender woman with golden hair much younger than the big man beside him. Gray Skies did not recognize either of them.

                A sudden all-consuming hatred burned hot in Gray Skies heart when he caught sight of the man on horseback coming up alongside the cart. That was a face he recognized. Brown hair, brown eyes and a tall, broad build. Features similar to those of Deniah’s around his mouth and cheeks….. Matthew.

                Every animal instinct inside of Gray Skies was crying out to him to kill Matthew. To end his life just the same as he had ended Bear Claws. Gray Skies could feel a blood thirst in his veins that was not human. It was the souls of the creatures inside of him longing to avenge the unfair and premature death this man had caused… and to pay this man back for the bruises that had marred Deniah’s skin for far too long.

                Slowly Gray Skies began to breathe a little deeper and fight the best down. His muscles had been swelling and his bones shifting slightly as he had fought the change. Sweat slicked his skin, though this sweat was from the pain of going against the shifting of his body.

                Without making his presence known to the approaching group, Gray Skies slid back behind the barn and went to the river, crouching behind the bank until he reached the cabin and then entered through the back door.                           

                Deniah was sleeping soundly in the bed and Gray Skies hated to wake her but knew he must. He knew this protective drive inside of him was being fueled by the knowledge that there was a life growing inside of her and the creature within him was desperate to protect that life at all costs. Matthew had better step very carefully while he was here or else Gray Skies could very well lose control and possibly enjoy himself while he did so.

                “Fire Hair,” he whispered gently as he shook her shoulder. Her gray eyes fluttered open and she frowned up at him. Before she could speak he sighed, “We have visitors riding in. Your brother has returned.”

---

Matthew had never been more nervous than he was as he, Jessica and Fred made their way up the path toward the cabin he’d called home his entire life.  He had no idea why he was nervous when there was nothing waiting for him there other than emptiness and memories of a life he’d never have again.

                While he was glad to have the threat of his father gone once and for all, he missed Deniah with everything in him. It had been nearly a week since Matthew had taken Jessica as his wife and while he was happy with her he still woke every night covered in a cold sweat with tears on his face as he dreamt of the things he’d done.

                Jessica had been there each and every time simply kissing him, holding him close and being there. She never spoke and Matthew knew it was because she didn’t know what to say however her presence beside him meant more than any amount of words ever could have. He didn’t know why God had seen fit to bless him with such an amazing woman but he thanked Him every single day for the gift.

                “Matthew, it looks as if someone is calling your cabin home,” Matthew looked up as Fred’s words, snapped him from the thoughts he was lost in, and he realized the man was right. There were animals roaming within corrals and stys, chickens in the coops, wood chopped and stacked beside the house and a cart parked beside the barn.

                Anger filled him.

                How dare someone move in on his memories, move in on his home and destroy all the memories that would have been left of his dear sister.

                “Why don’t the two of you wait here and I’ll ride on in and see what’s going on,” Matthew warned. Jessica seemed uneasy but Fred nodded and pulled up on the reins, bringing the cart carrying Jessica’s meager belongings to a halt.

                Matthew clicked his tongue and urged his mare to continue on, though his eyes were scanning the large clearing where the cabin, barn and outbuildings sat. He knew damn well there were Indians around and he also knew they’d want his blood for taking one of their own. It made a trickle of unease wash over his spine and he felt bumps and tingles covering his skin. He would swear there were eyes watching him from all directions.

                Matthew was trying to think of what he would say to whoever had taken up residence here. He glanced at the clothes hanging from the lines, whipping in the light breeze and frowned when he saw the calico and gingham dresses as well as the buckskin pants and tunics.

                An Indian lived here? An Indian and a woman? Could it be…..

                “Matthew!”

                Matthew had to be hearing things but that would mean he was seeing things as well because that was most certainly his sister that came running from the cabin toward him. That was her red hair, her dark freckles, her gray eyes, her big smile, her soft figure that was rushing his way.

                Matthew let out a cry of joy, leapt from his horse and ran as fast as his long legs could carry him toward her. He swore time stood still and the earth spun in slow motion as it took forever for them to reach one another and then Deniah was throwing her arms around him and Matthew was lifting her up, spinning them both around as he laughed happily. 

                The relief that Matthew felt in that instant as he held his sister’s soft body against him could not be put into words. He had truly believed her to be dead. He had honestly thought he would never again be allowed to look upon her, that he would never be able to apologize for the pain he had put her through, that he would never be able to atone for the sins he had committed against her.

                “I thought you were dead, Deniah,” Matthew whispered against her hair. “I thought you’d died when that mountain collapsed.”

                “But you sent me that letter.” He could hear her confusion and he sat her on her feet and took a step back.

                “That’s a long story and one that’s a bit hard to believe,” Matthew admitted. “It seemed I hit my head pretty hard when we went over that ledge and I forget four years of my life just like that,” Matthew snapped his fingers to emphasize his words.

                Deniah gasped lightly and covered her mouth with her hand, “Four years?”

                “Yes. The folks that found me thought I was brain addled beyond saving when I woke up talking about flour, fabric and harvesting.”

                “The time you spilled my flour and rushed to town to get me more? Oh Matthew, I remember that! That was before…..” she stopped suddenly and swallowed hard.

                Matthew felt his hands shaking and ran one through his hair, “Deniah, I don’t know what to say right now. ‘I’m sorry’ just don’t seem to do what I’m feeling any justice. I woke up having no memory of that monster I was and only about a week ago did I hit my head once again and have it all come flooding back…..”

                “You look different…” Deniah replied as she looked him up and down. “You look like my brother again.”

                Matthew felt his throat get tight and he nodded, “I am, Deniah, I swear it. Whatever the hell it was wrong with me it’s not wrong with me anymore,” Matthew frowned, “But how did you get away from the accident? How did you live through that?”

                Deniah opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a deep, stern and accented voice behind her, “Fire Hair was saved by me. Never will I allow harm to come to her.”

                Matthew looked past Deniah and felt his knees tremble at the sight of the Indian standing with his arms crossed and a cold rage easy to read in his dark eyes, though his face was expressionless. Matthew recognized him as the Indian that Deniah had been meeting secretly in the woods, the one she was in love with. The one Matthew had meant to kill.

                “Then for that I thank you,” Matthew managed to speak through the fear and guilt clogging his throat and clutching at his chest. He had murdered someone close to this man and would have murdered him as well. Would he want Matthew dead? If he did then Matthew would have no choice but to accept the punishment. It was what he deserved after what he had done.

                “I have little need for your gratitude,” the Indian replied, his voice full of a pride and certainty that had Matthew wanting to respect him though he didn’t know why. Was this man some sort of leader among his people? “I did not do what I did for you. I did not search for your body among the wreckage and I had truly hoped that you and your father were both dead among the mud and rocks.”

                “Well you got half your wish,” Matthew mumbled while Deniah turned and whispered feverishly to the Indian though Matthew couldn’t hear what she said. “Can I ask your name?” Matthew said as he met the Indian’s eyes once again.

                The Indian’s strong jaw tightened but when Deniah laid a gentle hand against his bare chest he seemed to soften, even if only a little, “Gray Skies. My name is Gray Skies.”

                “Gray Skies, I……”

                “Matthew? Is everything okay?”

                Matthew turned to see that Jessica had abandoned the cart and was walking his way hesitantly. He sighed and nodded as he held out his arm and she rushed the rest of the way to him. He draped his arm over her shoulders and turned to see Deniah staring at him with shock.

                “Who is this?” Deniah asked politely.

                “Jessica, this is my sister Deniah and her…. man ,(it still felt odd to refer to an Indian as a man after all the hatred his father had shoved down his throat toward Indians but Matthew was determined to be a different man than his father had turned him into), Gray Skies. Gray Skies, Deniah, this is Jessica, my wife.”

                “Wife?!” Deniah exclaimed before closing her mouth with a sharp click of teeth. “I mean… it’s.. nice to meet you.”

                Deniah held out her hand and Jessica shook it, “It’s nice to finally meet you as well. Matthew has spoken nothing but great things about you since he came to us and has spoken of little else other than the sister he loved so dearly.”

                Gray Skies let out a growl that sounded more savage beast than human and Deniah once again laid a hand on his chest, “Why don’t we take this conversation inside?” Deniah offered. She pointed toward Fred still on the cart.

                “That is my father,” Jessica informed her quickly.

                Deniah nodded, “He is more than welcome to join us. I assure you that Gray Skies does not bite,” Deniah added when Jessica eyed him nervously.

                Matthew saw the way Gray Skies’ jaw tightened and he knew that there was a very good chance that the Indian would be losing control of the anger he seemed to be precariously holding on to.

                “Come in now,” Deniah urged again. “I think we all have a lot to talk about.”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies fixed Matthew with an angry stare, “We have much to talk about.”

Chapter Thirty-Three: Seeking Guidance

Chapter Thirty-Three: Seeking Guidance

                Deniah sat at the table in the tiny kitchen with her brother, his wife and her father. She could sense Gray Skies’ tension and feel the heat of anger coming off his skin as he stood behind her with his arms crossed tightly over his bare, broad chest.  

                Deniah of course felt torn. On one hand this was her brother back! Her brother, not the monster he had become before the accident. He looked like Matthew, he spoke like Matthew and he had a horrible guilt and shame in his brown eyes that made Deniah immensely sad for him.

                But on the other hand she had sworn her life to Gray Skies and he was her world. He had every reason to hate Matthew after what the man had done to his brother and Deniah would not blame him and would not be able to stand in his way should he decide that Matthew deserved to pay for what he had done. She only hoped that payment would not be death because she was not at all sure she could stand by and simply watch that.

                 “Jessica, Mr Bailey—“ Deniah began.

                Fred held up his hand, “Please call me Fred.”

                “Fred,” Deniah amended, forcing a polite smile despite her own nerves and uneasiness over what the near future could hold. “I want to thank you both from the bottom of my heart for rescuing my brother and seeing to my father’s burial.”

                “Of course,” Fred replied politely. “We would not have passed something like that by without doing what we could to help. And truthfully it was my pleasure to help your brother. He seems a good man and my daughter lost her heart to him quite quickly.”

                Gray Skies growled again and Deniah winced. She had never seen Gray Skies seem so precariously on the edge of rage. He had warned her several times that the souls of beasts lived inside of him and that his people were taught from an early age to control those baser instincts that came along with them. Clearly being near to Matthew now was causing Gray Skies to forget those teachings.

                Matthew seemed to find his voice then after having fallen silent the last ten minutes or so and he looked at Gray Skies, “Gray Skies, I do not know what to say about our history other than I am sorry; deeply sorry. I know that that is a small offering after I murdered one of your people—“

                “My brother,” Gray Skies snapped, his voice angry and sharp enough to cut just as deeply as a steel blade. “My younger brother who had yet to truly experience anything in this life. You took his life and you laughed because of it. You deserve death in return.”

                It was hard to tell who gasped louder, Jessica or Deniah. Matthew’s skin took on a green hue as he continued to stare at Gray Skies and Fred glanced worriedly at his daughter.

 Deniah knew not what to say and before she could think of something to ease the tension, Matthew spoke, “You’re right. I do. I don’t sleep and on the rare occasion that I do drift off I am awakened by the horrible nightmares that remind me of what I let whiskey and my father turn me into, what that monster I became was capable of. If you feel that death is the payment I must pay then so be it. Anything to atone for my sins and the wrongs I committed against not only you and your brother but my sister as well. I will only ask that you see that Jessica is taken care of…..”

“Matthew, stop,” Deniah spoke loudly, cutting off her brother’s rambling speech. Matthew’s eyes, red rimmed with tears turned to her, “What did you mean by speaking about father? What part did he play in anything? It was you that turned to whiskey, you that abused me and spoke so harshly and you that shot Gray Skies brother. Father forced you to do none of those things.”

“A weak man blames others for his actions,” Gray Skies stated.

“That’s not fair!” Jessica blurted before her blue eyes widened and she slapped her hands over her mouth.

Matthew reached over and took one of her hands, squeezing it tenderly before once again meeting his sister’s gaze, “Deniah, there were things you didn’t know. Things that I hid from you about father and about myself. When mama died….” Matthew swallowed hard, “It was my fault. I had gone into town even though papa told me not to and I’m the one who must have brought the sickness back and gave it to mama. I killed her, Deniah, and papa made sure I remembered that.”

                Deniah sat there in stunned silence as she stared at her brother. Suddenly pieces began falling into place as she realized a horrible truth. Matthew had been abused. Their father who had always simply denied her any scrap of affection had obviously been much worse toward Matthew. Deniah could see it now; the pain etched into his face as he spoke of the man.

                “Did he hit you, Matthew?” she whispered, remembering those times that Matthew had neglected his chores and been called to the barn and remained there for hours. “More than just whippings with his leather strap?”

                “Yes,” Matthew voice was quiet and his gaze went back to the table. “From the time I was old enough to walk, speak and get in his way. There was once when you were quite young that I knew he was about to go after you as well and I threw myself in the way. I protected you always and eventually he stopped going after you and instead focused all his rage on me and I was glad for that. After mama died, the night we buried her, he beat me nearly to death….”

                “I remember,” Deniah thought back, “I remember that you did not get out of bed for days. I merely thought you were lost in your sorrow.”          

                “He broke my ribs,” Matthew informed her. “I turned to the whiskey for comfort, desperate for anything that would numb the pain and hurt I felt as time after time I fell short of his expectations, as time after time I heard about how worthless I was.”

                “Matthew, I’m so sorry….” Deniah felt tears in her eyes, “I never knew!”

                “It’s the past, sis,” Matthew reached across and tried to take her hand but Gray Skies put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back, causing her hand to slip off the table top. “She is my sister, Gray Skies. I will not harm her.”

                “The bruises I have kissed on her flesh tell a different tale than the one your lips speak. You think you are the only man to have faced hard times? What excuse have you for the bruises you placed on your sister? For the bullet you placed in my brother? I have stood by and seen you kill and harm those I love for far too long and I will stand by and watch it no longer!”

                Deniah stared in shock at her  brother when he covered his face with his hands and broke down in body wracking sobs that filled the strained silence inside the cabin. His shoulders heaved with each shuddering breath he took.

                Jessica rose from her seat and came behind him, wrapping him up in her arms and fixing Gray Skies with a glare, “He has apologized for what he’s done! Do you not realize that he is not that same man any longer? You are punishing him for things that he cannot change and things that he would never do now!”

                “Jessica, this man has every reason to be upset,” Fred assured his daughter.

                Deniah stood and shook her head, “Fred, you will stop saying man as if it is some sort of dirty word when referring to Gray Skies or I will have to ask you to leave. Jessica, you love my brother and for that I am thankful and it is my hope that with you beside him he will be strong enough to stay away from the whiskey but your father is right. You truly have no idea of what I went through because of my brother and father and the pain that Gray Skies has endured because of what Matthew did that night. His people have shunned him and Bear Claw’s death had much to do with that.”

                “That’s enough, Fire Hair. You need not tell them the details of our lives. They will be gone soon,” Gray Skies assured her.

                Deniah turned to him her lips trembling, “And my brother? Will he be leaving with them?”

                “My brother’s death needs to be avenged,” Gray Skies warned coldly. Deniah was shocked by the ice in his tone and his gaze as he looked down his nose at her. “Blood for blood.”

                “No,” Deniah stood firm. “No, I will not stand by and allow you to kill him.”

                “You will pick him over me?!” Gray Skies demanded. “This man who very nearly killed me, who took my brother’s life, who nearly caused your death as well on that mountainside! You will choose him over the man who has loved you, cared for you and stood by you since we were but children?”

                Deniah shook her head fervently and laid a hand upon his arm which was hard and unyielding beneath her touch, “Gray Skies, of course I would not choose him. If you wish him to leave and never return then it will be so and I will never resent you for it. I know what he has done and taken from us and I know that simply saying the whiskey and the hate from our father made him do it is no true excuse, but you cannot kill him. Please, Gray Skies, has there not been enough death? Enough hurt?”

                Deniah felt shifting of muscle between her hand and she looked into Gray Skies’ eyes only to realize he was fighting back a shift with everything in him. Without a word he strode from the house and slammed the door loudly behind him.

                Deniah stared at that door in shock. Never had Gray Skies been this angry, this on edge. She realized that he had been telling the truth when he spoke of the danger that lay within him. She supposed since he was normally so calm and composed she had not realized just how deadly he could be.

                She certainly saw it now.

                A chair scraped on the wooden floor behind her and Matthew’s voice filled the quiet, “We’ll leave now, Deniah. I didn’t mean to…”

                Deniah whirled around and faced her brother shaking her head as she did, “No, you will stay. I will not pretend to understand your pain and your suffering but I do know Gray Skies’ suffering and the pain he has endured because of your actions. He has held me through my tears and dealt with the aftermath among his people because of the life you took. You say you want to atone for your sins and I am going to hold you to that. You will stay right here until Gray Skies returns and then you will suffer whatever punishment he deems worthy. I love you, Matthew, and I truly hope you have changed for the better but your fate is not up to me nor is it up to you. Your fate rests in Gray Skies’ hands and his hands alone.”  

---

                “I know not what to do,” Gray Skies lamented to the sky as he stood beneath The Witching Tree. It hadn’t been in his plans to leave Deniah alone with her brother and his new family but the only other option had been shifting to a bear and tearing Matthew limb from limb right before her eyes.

                Gray Skies stared at the tree tops and the bits of blue he could see between them and wished he could speak to Big Sky. It had always been Big Sky to give Gray Skies guidance when he was in need of it. Now that man was gone when Gray Skies need him most.

                “What do I do, Big Sky? Bear Claw, do I avenge your death the way we were taught? Do I make Matthew pay for what he did with his own life and hurt Deniah in a way I could never earn her forgiveness for or do I simply let your death go unpunished and dishonor your memory in that way? You once made it clear that I was to be with Fire Hair, is that still your wish? Or do you wish your death avenged?”

                Gray Skies closed his eyes and felt the wind pick up around him, blowing against his bare chest and back. The woods fell silent around him and a prickling of awareness washed over him. He could sense someone’s presence here with him.

                Slowly Gray Skies opened his eyes once again and nearly fell back when he saw his brother standing before him. He instantly looked toward his torso but there was no wound and no blood, “Bear Claw, you’re….”               

                “Dead,” Bear Claw spoke with a grin, that same grin he’d worn nearly every day. It was full of good humor and so infectious that it had caused grins on the faces of everyone who saw it. “But you seemed to need me and so here I am.”

                “Brother…” Gray Skies closed the distance between them and tried to hug Bear Claw but his arms went through him as if he were not standing there at all.

                “I’m dead, Gray Skies,” Bear Claw reminded him sadly, “And Big Sky warned that I cannot keep coming to you and guiding you on the correct path. He says you are the older brother and need to fend for yourself.”

                Gray Skies smiled despite his sorrow, “Is Big Sky upset that Fire Hair and I left?”

                “He knows it was forced upon you,” Bear Claw replied with a shrug. “And he seems unconcerned and keeps stating that everything will work out how it is meant to. You know how he is,” Bear Claw rolled his eyes and Gray Skies laughed quietly. Big Sky’s dramatic ways had caused Bear Claw’s eyes to roll many times.

                “Now what guidance is it you need from me, older and less wise brother? I shall do my best to help your feeble mind,” Bear Claw teased.

                Gray Skies felt the weight of his decision fall back upon his shoulders, “I know not what choice is the correct one.”

                “What choice is your heart telling you to make?” Bear Claw questioned.

                “You know the direction my heart always points.”

                “Ahh yes,” Bear Claw tipped his head, “Your Fire Hair. She is a good woman for you, much better than I had once believed her to be. I can see why you love her so deeply.”

                “Yes but is it a good love when I put her above everything else? Above our people and above my duties?”

                “By duties you mean avenging my death?” Bear Claw asked thoughtfully.

                “Yes, of course that is what I mean.”

                “Gray Skies, I chose my fate. I sacrificed myself and made the decision to jump in front of that bullet. Have you not told Fire Hair those same words?”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies growled, “But only because she tries to blame herself when she bears no blame! The man who pulled the trigger on that gun is sitting now at my kitchen table. What am I to do? Kill him or simply let him get away with it?”

                “I do not wish for you to kill him,” Bear Claw admitted. “I wish for you to let the past remain in the past. I know you cannot see into his heart and soul but that is a handy side effect to death; you can see things much more clearly. Matthew Williams was a boy born to a monster who became a monster because of it. He is not that man any longer. He is a changed man who will not fall back into old ways.”

                “You can see the future?” Gray Skies questioned skeptically.

                Bear Claw smiled, “This surprises you? We have discussed my infinite wisdom many times.”

                “I feel as if letting him live dishonors you,” Gray Skies admitted with a sigh.

                Bear Claw shook his head, “I do not wish you to avenge me, Gray Skies. I do not wish you to dirty your hands with that man’s blood. If you wish to honor my death then live your life well. Make peace with the past, live for the future and love your woman. Tell the child that is growing inside her belly all about the uncle that loves him or her. Let forgiveness rule your heart and allow Matthew a place in your life so that Fire Hair will not have to lose her brother now that she finally has him back after so many years of that sickness ruling his mind. That is my wish, brother, that is what I want for you to do.”

                Gray Skies nodded as he swallowed back his emotion, “Truly?”

                “Truly,” Bear Claw nodded, “Now I must be going. It is harder than you imagine to hold this form here. When you see an owl in the night sky or hear it hooting in the distance know that I am watching you, brother.”

                “Until we meet again,” Gray Skies replied and Bear Claw grinned before the wind picked up once again and he vanished like many wisps of smoke.

A/N: There will only be one more chapter to this story and then we’ll be at the end. Though there will probably be a parts two and three, it will be a long while before I write them because I have so many other stories that I want to write first.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Forgiveness

Chapter Thirty-Four:Forgiveness

                Deniah left Jessica and Fred at the table and walked out the back of the cabin to the river. Matthew had disappeared out the front and Deniah knew he was in the barn. She wondered if he was going to make a run for it but knew it would be pointless if he dared to try. If Gray Skies wanted him then Gray Skies would catch him.  

                Deniah was just as confused and lost as Matthew and Gray Skies seemed to be. Did her brother deserve death? If he had come back the same man he’d been before the accident then Deniah would say a thousand times yes! But he wasn’t that man any longer and Deniah did not believe he deserved to face death for what he had done.

                Her brother was a changed man, a married man, a man who finally had a future without violence and whiskey and Deniah wanted him to have that future… .even if it was somewhere other than here.

                Deniah stared down at the river, watching the current race by as the minnows and crawfish scurried about their days among the rocks and waves. A honeybee buzzed around her head for several seconds before sauntering off toward the flower bush across the water and Deniah wondered why life could not be so simple for people. Why did people complicate things so?

                A pair of strong arms slipped around her waist and Deniah closed her eyes and leaned into Gray Skies’ embrace. She could not be angry with him no matter how hard she tried. She loved him too greatly. The two remained silent for a long while until Deniah found the courage to speak,

                “Have you reached a decision?” she questioned. “Is my brother to live or die?”

                Gray Skies sighed and rested his chin on her red hair, “Fire Hair, I would do nothing to put distance between us and that is something you know to be true. You are my very breath and without you I would be nothing. I have spoken to Bear Claw, he came to me while I thought and agonized over the decision I had to make. I worried that allowing your brother to live dishonored the memory of my own brother but he made me see that it is not so. Matthew is your brother, he is part of you and you love him, because of that I will not do what duty says I must. Your brother will live and, if it is your wish, he can have a cabin on the other side of the valley and remain close to you.”

                Deniah turned to face him with doubt, “You are sure of this? Because not long ago you were so angry that you could not speak and you appeared ready to rip Matthew limb from limb.”

                Gray Skies traced her cheek with his finger and she could not help but tremble beneath his touch, “That was anger born of confusion. My confusion has been cleared and so has my anger.” His lips twitched, “Do you wish me to change my mind?”

                “Hush!” Deniah exclaimed and then she laughed happily and threw her arms around his neck, “Thank you for being such a forgiving and loving man, Gray.”

                “I only want your happiness, Fire Hair. My one goal in this life is to ensure you are happy every day until I leave it.”

                “I love you, Gray,” Deniah whispered against his ear and she felt his hold on her tighten as his heart beat accelerated. “And Gray, I think I should tell you something else.”

                “What is that?” he questioned, his face nuzzled against her neck.

                “I am with child.” Deniah replied as she took his hand and laid it over her middle. “This time next year you’ll be carrying your son or daughter around this valley.”           

                A happy smile split Gray Skies face but Deniah saw no surprise in his brown eyes, “That makes me happier than anything else could,” he replied. “It is easy to forgive the past when the future is so bright.”

                “You already knew didn’t you?” Deniah pouted.

                Gray Skies tipped his head, “Yes.”

                Deniah laughed, “Well one of these days I will surprise you somehow, Gray. I don’t know how since you seem to know everything before I tell you but it will happen.”

                “We will see,” Gray Skies teased as he tweaked her nose. “Now I must go speak with your brother in the barn. I think I have let him tremble in fear long enough.”

                “Thank you again for offering forgiveness, Gray. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

                “If not for Bear Claw’s guidance I do not know that I would have chosen the path of forgiveness,” Gray Skies admitted heavily.

                An owl hooted in the distance and Deniah looked in that direction with a smile, “Then I thank Bear Claw from the bottom of my heart.”

                ***

                Matthew stood in the barn and ran his hand over the neck of the mule that called it home. His future was uncertain and Matthew was terrified. He had left Jessica in the house with her father and Deniah and he had come out here to be alone with his tangled thoughts and await Gray Skies’ decision about whether he lived or died and whether he still had a home here in the valley.

                This was home to him. This was where he wanted to build a cabin with his wife and raise their children. That was if Gray Skies decided to let him live.

                Matthew understood the Indians point of view. If he’d killed a white man, he would be rotting in a cell or heading for the gallows. Taking Matthew’s life in exchange for his brother’s was Gray Skies’ peoples way of making him pay for his crime.

                But Matthew did not want to die.

                He wanted to stay alive, to prove to everyone and even more to himself, that he could be a good man, a man worthy of life. He wanted to grow old with Jessica, to raise children and play with his grandchildren. He wanted to get to know his sister once again and while he wasn’t completely thrilled with the idea of her spending her life with a man who could never be her husband and would lead to harsh judgments from everyone who saw her, he wanted to support her and be there for her the way he should have been for years.

                And everything hinged on whatever Gray Skies decided.

                Impatiently Matthew kicked at the ground and shoved his hand through his hair. He was not good at waiting around and never had been. If he was going to die then he wanted to get it over with and if he was going to live then he damn sure wanted to know that too!

                “Kicking the ground does not make time go faster and will merely lead to a sore foot,” a stern voice came from behind him, “I know this from experience,” it added.

                Matthew felt his heart pound as he turned and faced Gray Skies. Both men were equal in height but where Matthew was a bit stockier and thicker, Gray Skies was lean, sinewy and moved with a deadly grace that Matthew suspected was not an act. This was a dangerous man, though he must also be a good man to have Deniah so in love with him. His sister was smart and not the kind of woman who would have given her heart to anyone who did not deserve her.

                “Gray Skies,” Matthew’s voice trembled in fear and he cursed that display of weakness, “I trust you’ve reached a decision?”

                Gray Skies’ dark eyes studied him and then the man nodded, “You will live. I will not hurt Fire Hair and killing you would cause her pain. You and your wife will build a cabin of your own on the other side of the crops in the valley if that is your wish. I enjoy my privacy and do not want your cabin any closer than that. I will aid you in building your cabin so we can get it done quickly.”

                For an instant Matthew thought about reminding the Indian that legally this land belonged to Matthew but then he remembered that Gray Skies had just agreed to let him live and so he kept his mouth shut on that topic, “Thank you, Gray Skies.” Matthew felt his entire body sag with relief.

                Gray Skies merely grunted, “I do this for Fire Hair, not for you. You will share equally in the work load. There will be no fire water, no whiskey, brought here around my woman or the child she is carrying. The way you treat your wife is no business of mine but if you ever so much as raise an angry voice to mine then I will forget my mercy and end your life without hesitation.”

                “I promise you I will not….. wait a moment…” Matthew’s eyes widened. “A child? Deniah is with child?”

                “Yes,” Gray Skies voice was tight, “Does that bother you?”

                Matthew took a step back. Did it bother him? Not too long ago the answer to that question would have been yes. He would have been both sickened, disgusted and enraged by the thought of his sister having a child with an Indian…. But he was no longer that man.

                “No, I’m happy.” Matthew replied honestly. “Deniah will make an amazing mother and you seem a good man, Gray Skies. My sister loves you and you clearly want the best for her. I won’t pass judgments or stand against you both. As a matter of fact I will stand up for you and be on your side should anyone else speak out against you.”

                If his admission touched the other man it was impossible to tell. His face seemed to be carved from stone, “I am glad we could find this peace between us,” Gray Skies finally spoke again. “I am sure that Fire Hair will be cooking soon and you must be hungry after your travels. There is room enough for you three to stay until we have your cabin finished. We will start on your cabin at dawn.”

                Without waiting for a response, Gray Skies turned and left the barn. Matthew scrambled after him and when he entered the cabin Jessica ran into his arms, “He forgave me,” Matthew whispered in her ear, trembling with joy at simply being able to hold his wife in his arms once again. “And we are going to live here in this cabin while he helps us build another at the other end of the valley. This is going to be home.”

                “That’s wonderful!” Jessica exclaimed jubilantly.

                Matthew looked across the small room at his sister and they shared a smile as Deniah curled herself into Gray Skies’ chest.

                For so long pain, hate, fear, anger and confusion had shaped all of their lives but now that was over. Matthew was a changed man, Deniah had her Indian and in that moment Matthew could not see how anything would ever take away the happiness they had all somehow managed to find.