Rescued by a Wild Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

Clara Hensley slipped between the pines, lifting her skirts to avoid the dew-soaked underbrush. The wagon train had stopped for a brief rest along the ridge, and she had taken the opportunity to slip away in search of the berry bushes she’d spotted the night before.

Everything seemed bright and colorful, with green leaves and patches of red that went on forever. It seemed that no matter what kind of mood she was in, picking berries would heal her.

Today was the first real day that everything was ripe. She had been waiting for a week, watching as the green buds turned red bit by bit, and then this morning, it was as if the sun had been warmer than usual.

She knew it was going to be her whole day from the second she had woken and seen them. She had rushed through breakfast and then grabbed some spare clothes, tying them together to make baskets, before bidding goodbye to her family and heading deep into the bush like she was an explorer.

Her light brown hair was tied in a handkerchief to keep the sun off her head, and her green eyes were brought out by her yellow dress, matching the sunshine. At nineteen, although she looked young, Clara felt like she had already experienced so much of life.

Some days, she felt a hundred years old. Some days, no matter how sunny it was, she awoke with her heart heavy. She missed Caleb, her older brother who had passed two years ago, and most days, she missed her mother.

Her mother loved picking berries with her. With the same green eyes and brown hair as her daughter, she had taught Clara everything she knew about gathering them. She remembered holding her mother’s hand and rushing toward the bushes, her mouth soon covered in red stains.

Even though she was alone picking berries, today was a happy day, and she basked in the warmth of the memories as she filled her makeshift baskets.

Maybe she would make a pie, or maybe everyone would sit around with a spoon, or simply eat them with their hands as a sweet treat. The red berries, some almost purple, they were so ripe, stretched on forever, and she resisted the urge to sit down in the sunshine and eat several handfuls.

Clara was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the noise behind her. She turned around and found herself face-to-face with a man who towered over her.

The sudden presence startled her more because she had been alone for hours, deep in the bush, far from the wagon train.

She thought she was completely alone, and if anyone approached her, she didn’t expect it to be a stranger.

With dark hair and dark eyes, he was unmistakably a Cheyenne Indian. She knew that they were in these parts, but she hadn’t expected to come across one.

Clara’s heart leapt in her throat as she tried to process the sight in front of her.

“Hello,” he said, casually, as if he hadn’t just scared the daylights out of her.

She barely noted that he wasn’t dressed the way she expected a Cheyenne Indian, or any Indian, to dress. He was dressed in what she considered normal clothes — something that her father or her brother might wear, with dark slacks and a white shirt.

Despite his ordinary clothes, his posture and expression carried a quiet authority she couldn’t ignore.

Her brother was killed by an Indian, and it wasn’t an accident. She had been spared most of the details, but from what she knew, it was brutal. The Cheyenne were lost, Godless souls as far as she was concerned.

“Hello, do you speak English?” the man said, looking at her in confusion.

Clara shook herself out of her daze. She wished she had brought some kind of weapon with her just in case.

She was trying not to show how afraid she was on her face.

“Of course I speak English,” she replied, snapping at him. “I grew up in Pennsylvania.”

“Okay,” he said casually. “Good. I was just wondering whether you’ve seen two little boys out here.”

“Little boys?” she asked. “No, I haven’t.”

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you would keep an eye out,” he replied. “They’ve gone missing, and we are all quite concerned.”

She didn’t say anything to that, and he raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to stare like that,” he said. “They are just children I’m looking for, not monsters.”

“I haven’t seen them,” she said.

“Well, please keep an eye out if you do,” he said. “No need to be rude. My name is Eli, if you do see them.”

“I’m not trying to be—” it wasn’t that she was trying to be rude — not necessarily. She was afraid more than angry, though that clearly wasn’t coming across.

He stared at her for a few seconds longer and then nodded.

“All right” he said, and headed off.

Clara waited until he was truly out of eyesight before her shoulders dropped, and she let her breath go quickly and then slowed again. Her heart was racing, and she bent down with her hands on her knees.

The quiet of the forest suddenly felt safer, but the memory of his dark eyes lingered. She reminded herself to be more cautious next time.

She didn’t think that he personally meant any harm, but she didn’t know about the rest of his people. The wagon train didn’t usually stop in Indian territory, and she wasn’t exactly sure that they had this time, but she knew that they probably couldn’t stay if that was the case.

Making sure she was truly alone, she gathered up the rest of her berries and headed back to the wagon train. It wasn’t exactly as much as she wanted to pick, but she was no longer comfortable being out alone.

When she arrived, there was no one on the wagon train, but Clara knew that they would be back soon. Whenever they stopped, it was a chance to go into town, gather supplies, and run the errands that they couldn’t do when they were on the road. Usually, they traveled on the trail for a few days at a time, and then stopped closer to a town.

Clara climbed into the back of her wagon and shut the door behind her. In the darkness, only lit by the cracks of sunshine, it was cooler than outside.

She pressed her back against the wooden wall, taking slow breaths to calm the tremble in her hands.

She waited inside until she heard familiar footsteps approaching. She heard her brother and father coming back from town, chatting away as if nothing was wrong. Of course, to them, nothing was wrong. It was a beautiful summer day, and they had no idea what Clara had encountered.

“Father,” Clara pushed open the door. She supposed her face gave it away, and her father paused.

“Clara, what’s the matter?” he asked. “Did something happen?”

“I was out picking berries when I was approached by an Indian,” she said and his face darkened. Her little brother, Luke, looked concerned, standing just below his father’s chin.

“An Indian?” he asked cautiously. “Did he speak English? Are you sure he was an Indian?

Clara nodded slightly. “Yes, he spoke English, and yes, I’m sure”.

“Did he hurt you?” her father asked. Clara shook her head.

“No,” she replied. “No, he didn’t hurt me, but he did scare me. He just appeared while I was picking berries, and asked me if I had seen two small Indian children. Apparently, they had gone missing.”

“Are we on Indian territory?” Luke asked, looking up at his father, and her father shrugged.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I didn’t think so, but I don’t think we’ll stay here.”

“Did you get everything that you needed?” Clara asked, and he nodded.

“Yes,” he replied. “And the others should be back soon, so I think we should be ready to leave within an hour. But you stay in here, don’t worry.”

“I think I’ll be all right to help,” she replied. “Really. I was just…startled. And he wasn’t…doing anything wrong.”

“If he was telling the truth,” her father replied. Clara looked down at her hands.

Now that she was thinking about it in hindsight, she didn’t think Eli was lying. She had been rude, although she hadn’t meant to. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized her father was right, it was best to head out.

The others did make it back shortly after, their arms full of supplies, and began to pack up the wagons for another few days of traveling.

Sometimes, Clara asked their route and how far they were trying to travel before the next stop. Today, however, she didn’t feel like it was information that she needed to know.

Still, as she packed, she thought about the way he looked at her. He was so calm, and his eyes seemed so deep and thoughtful. He didn’t seem unkind, or vicious, or anything that she thought the Indians were.

Of course, she knew they were dangerous. She had proof. But Eli seemed different, somehow. She couldn’t explain it, but his gaze stayed with her as she packed up.

“Clara?” Luke poked his head in front of her, and she pulled back from folding her clothes.

“Yes?” she asked. “You scared me.”

“Can I eat the berries?” he asked. “You just left them sitting there.”

“Oh,” she replied. “You can eat some of them. I thought I’d make some jam out of them at our next stop, if it’s not too far.”

“But all of those will go bad if I don’t eat some,” he said. “I could at least eat half of them.”

“Half!” she cried with a laugh. “I think you need to share. You can take half and pass them around, and the rest will be boiled into jam later.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “Thank you for picking them.”

“Of course,” she said.

The wagon train had been traveling for a while, and packing up wasn’t that time-consuming. Before she knew it, her father was doing last minute checks, and they were off.

Clara often rode in the back of the wagon, because there wasn’t a lot of quiet time when traveling with so many people. She used the traveling time to read her Bible or write in her journal, often reflecting on the sermon her father had preached on the Sunday before.

She had just gotten comfortable, her Bible opened, when there was a giant crack from underneath the wagon. The wagon lurched forward and she heard her father yell. She reached up to the wall, trying to prevent herself from being thrown backward.

Her heart raced, not just from the shock but from the fear of what had just happened. She cursed herself silently for leaving the safety of the wagon train.

The wagon came to a stop, and she heard the others start to run over.

The door was thrown open, and her father immediately stuck his head in.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” Clara replied, trying to come back to her senses. “I’m all right, but what happened? Did we hit something?”

“The wagon wheel broke,” her father said. “It’s almost nightfall, so there’s no way I’m going to be able to fix it tonight. We’re stopped for the night.”

“Oh my,” she said. “Is it bad? Does the whole wheel need to be replaced?”

“It’s hard to tell,” he said. “I will have to see in the full daylight. Are you sure you are all right?”

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t think I’m hurt.”

“All right,” he said. “You let me know if anything starts to hurt, but you can come on out.”

“Are we still in Indian territory?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t know we were in Indian territory the first time, so I’m not sure where it ends. We’ll just have to stick together, and we’ll look out.”

“Okay,” she said. She could feel how uneven the wagon was, and she wondered if the wheel could be fixed at all. The last time a wheel broke that badly, they were stuck for several days.

Clara slid out of the wagon, looking around. She couldn’t exactly tell where they were. It just seemed like any forest stop they had made before. Most of the wagon trail was gathered around the broken wagon wheel. She moved with some of the other women toward a clearing, to start the fire and begin cooking. It was dangerous to cook when they weren’t aware of exactly where they were, and they hadn’t had a chance to send a scout, but they had no choice.

Clara closed her eyes, saying a prayer for safety, before gathering some wood and helping to get the first spark. Wherever they were, they had no choice but to stay here by the wagon trail for the night.

Chapter Two

Eli shook his head as he walked away from the white woman he had encountered picking berries. She had just been outright rude as soon as he had spoken.

Not that he blamed her entirely. Most settlers were cautious, even fearful, when meeting someone like him.

Maybe he had been isolated from the real world, but he wasn’t used to white people being so rude to him. Perhaps it was because sometimes, they weren’t sure whether he was white or not. After all, his mother’s blood ran strong through him, and she had been white. It had been as much a part of his world as the Cheyenne people had been. That was the most positive way he could look at it, in any case. If he felt like being negative, he would say that he never really belonged to any world. His mother had been young when she married her first husband, a white man whom he had never known, and they had started their trading business together. After he and the rest of the settlers she had come to the area with had passed on, she had fallen in love with his father, a Cheyenne man, and they had taken over the trading business.

Eli had known a loving environment from his parents, affectionately calling him Mato, his Cheyenne name, and Eli equally, and he felt that he had grown up in a home filled with love. His world outside of that, though, was often complicated. He was too white for the Cheyenne people and not white enough for most of the white people. He had seen tension between both communities — and violence — and he hated it.

Sometimes, he felt completely useless no matter what he did. The woman he was to marry had been picking berries just like that white woman when she had been killed not too long ago, and Eli’s heart had never been the same since. He wished the world weren’t so full of hate and violence, but he wasn’t naive enough to think that he was going to be the one to fix it.

Instead, he focused on what he could do. And today, what he could do was continue to search for Chaska’s brothers, who he suspected weren’t just lost in the woods while playing. It hadn’t been very long, but he had his suspicions that Silas Kane, a local settler who hated the Cheyenne, was at play here.

Eli hoped that wasn’t the case, but he had learned long ago to assume the worst.

He had promised to meet Chaska at the trading post at sunset, and it was almost dark. If anyone had more information, it would be Chaska.

He felt his heart lighten to see his friend leaning against the outer wall, waiting patiently. Chaska was always calm, no matter what the circumstance was. A full-blooded Cheyenne Indian, Chaska had been his best friend since they were boys, never seeing Eli as anything more than a friend to bond with. The two had been subject to bullying, harassment, and many mishaps over the course of their friendship, but it had never wavered.

“Any news?” Chaska asked as soon as Eli was in earshot. Eli shook his head with a sigh.

“No,” he said. “I was checking the berry bush up by the creek, but there was no sign of them. There was a wagon train up there, though. So, my guess is if they were up there, they wouldn’t stay long.”

“That is if Kane didn’t take them,” Chaska said, and Eli exhaled slowly.

“I’m trying to exhaust every possibility,” he said. “But it’s looking more and more likely.”

“I’ve never met a man so full of hatred,” Chaska said. “I am boiling with anger. I am certain he is involved.”

“Well, what we can conclude is that your brothers are not in any of the common places,” Eli replied. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it gives us more fuel to follow Kane,” Chaska said. “But I fear the worst. It’s not like them to just wander off during a hunt.”

“But at the same time, they are young,” Eli said. “And they have been getting more curious as time goes on. If they have wandered off, they never will again after we find them.”

“I’m glad you have some hope at least,” Chaska replied. “The truth is, it’s more than just…them. I don’t want to see tensions rise again. We’ve finally gotten to a good place, between the tribe and the settlers and…”

“Well, don’t worry on my behalf,” Eli said. “I’m used to it.”

“Not just on your behalf,” Chaska answered. “But on behalf of the whole community. We live so close together, I don’t want this to be the way things were. I would not blame the sins of Kane on every settler.”

“It won’t go that far,” Eli replied. “We’ll find them, and we don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I hope so,” Chaska said. “But for now, I should go back to my father and tell him.”

“Are you sure that your father will trust my eyes?” Eli asked. “Maybe he’ll want to send a full-blooded Cheyenne up there.”

“Don’t be silly, my father thinks kindly of you,” Chaska replied, although both of them knew it was half a lie.

“I can start following Kane’s trail,” Eli said. “He is less suspicious of me than of you, in any case. I will be able to get closer to him without rousing the alarm.”

“I would be grateful,” Chaska answered. “But in any case, you can’t follow his trail after the sunset.”

“I could…” Eli said, even though both of them knew it was pointless. Eli had been raised a good tracker, but even the Cheyenne couldn’t see in the dark.

“We have scouts watching his house,” Chaska said. “He hasn’t come back yet, but if there is any indication that he comes back, we will be the first to know. You can follow the trail from his last known place in the morning and we would be very grateful.”

“All right,” Eli agreed. “I just…want to make sure they are safe.”

“We all do,” Chaska said. “It is taking every ounce of strength for me to not rush out into the darkness now. But you know the forest as well as I do, Eli, and you have to respect its secrets in the dark.”

“Yes,” Eli said. “I know. At first light then.”

“Thank you, brother,” Chaska said and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

The two parted ways, and Eli headed inside the trading post. His parents were gone half the time, negotiating and making deals with their suppliers, but tonight, they were home. Despite their advancing age, both of them still worked hard. They had a partnership that Eli truly admired.

They had come home the night before last, and both of them had been shocked at the news of Chaska’s little brothers not returning from the hunt.

Eli often felt like his parents and Chaska were the only people he could really talk to. Outside of that, he felt like anyone he grew close to would be subjected to the ostracization and loneliness that he had lived with his whole life.

He tried not to think of Sarah and her last moments. That it was his fault for daring to love her.

“Any news?” his mother asked as soon as he walked in the door. Although her hair was gray now, and her eyes had wrinkles around them, she still looked young, and others said she was as beautiful as the day she had come to town. Eli often caught his father gazing upon her as if they were newlyweds. Even now, stroking the fire, his father looked at his mother first before turning to Eli.

“None,” Eli said. “I don’t think it’s likely they just wandered off. I would have been able to find their trail if that was the case, and there’s been nothing. Their footprints didn’t wander off in a particular direction, and there was no sign of them off the hunt.”

“You think they’ve been taken?” his father asked, and Eli took a deep breath.

“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. “But Chaska is convinced it is Kane, and I don’t have a good reason to…deny that. Kane has been a pain in our side for years, and we always knew that he would go too far.”

“But they are just children!” his mother protested. “If he wants to be a terrible person, he could…”

“Dear,” his father patted her hand gently as she walked by. “Eli will figure it out.”

“That’s a lot of faith that I’m not sure you should have in me,” Eli answered. “I am going to track Kane first, but…if he has done this, and he planned it out, it might be hard to find him.”

“Hard, but not impossible,” his mother said. “You are the best tracker in this community, you will find him if he is out there.”

Eli let out a breath as he sat down at the table. One of the advantages, of course, to having his parents home was that he got a hot home-cooked meal every night and didn’t have to struggle to cook for himself. He wasn’t a terrible cook, but he was no match for his mother.

“Chaska is worried about…relations,” Eli said. “And that this will make tensions rise again.”

“He is right,” his father said. “It will, if Kane has taken them. Even the rumor of Kane taking them is enough to fuel things again.”

“Which it shouldn’t,” his mother said quickly. “Because the sins of one man do not reflect on the whole race.”

“Most people are not as forward-thinking as you are, dear,” her father reminded her.

“You know that the only reason we haven’t been run out with pitchforks is the success of this business,” his mother said as she put a hot pot of stew in front of Eli. Eli’s stomach growled, and he couldn’t wait to dig in.

The idea of waking up at first light and tracking wasn’t a problem, but the fact that he knew he likely wouldn’t be successful was getting to him. Kane had experienced loss and grief just like he had, and he blamed the Cheyenne. It seemed like his life’s mission was to rid the area of them.Whenever there was a death, it seemed like Kane was close by. Eli had rarely hated anyone in his life, but he hated Kane.

“Mato,” his father said quietly. “You cannot let anger guide you, or the forest will not lean in your favor.”

He had heard his father say this before, and while he understood what he meant, he wasn’t the best at following through. The Cheyenne believed that the forest could feel the energy that a person brought in, and it would reciprocate what it was given. They always said a prayer before they started tracking, and they approached it the same way the settlers approached church.

Eli supposed that his mixed blood meant that he struggled with it, but he also knew that it was more the tension than his blood. Inside this house, with his parents, was the only time that he felt like could just be himself.

They made small talk, trying not to focus on the issue at hand. However, the meal finished quickly, and Eli soon went to bed with their blessing for the morning.

He hoped wherever the boys were, they were safe and warm, and their bellies were full. He didn’t think that Kane would show them much kindness.

His bed was cold because the fire was dying, and he pulled the covers up to his neck. He wasn’t sure he was going to get much sleep, but he hoped that he could get enough before dawn. Tracking was hard work and he wanted to be in the best shape possible.

He said a prayer before he closed his eyes. A prayer to any higher power that was listening, just to keep them safe, wherever they were. Morning would come soon.