Sarah's Heart by Ginger Simpson Page A

he was, but then he
remembered. His groping fingers searched for the blonde one, but felt nothing
but an empty blanket. Damn, how could he let the fire go out? He heard a
rustling behind him. Was it her… or a critter? He reached for the knife at his
side, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
    As his eyes adjusted
and moonlight filtered in to light the small cavern, Wolf saw her crouched
against the far wall. Her balled fists and wide eyes told him she was a
fighter. Slowly he inched his way toward her. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to
help you.” He totally forgot he had a knife in his hand.
    Like a cornered
animal, she lunged at him, toppling him over on the sandy floor of the shelter.
“Get away from me you… you savage!” she screamed, churning up the ground as she
crawled beneath the overhang, stood, then crumpled into a heap.

Chapter Nine

 
    Wolf leapt to his
feet and rushed to her side. Kneeling next to her, he released a pent up breath
at seeing her chest rise and fall. He pulled her into his arms, concerned that
she’d spent all her energy and may have undone the healing powers of his
medicine. He shook his head, wondering again why he cared. She was a complete
stranger to him. He didn’t even know her name. Great Spirit forbid ,
what if she died. What would he put on a grave marker?
    Her eyes fluttered
open then turned wide; the beautiful blue orbs clouded with fear. Lips parting;
she stiffened in his arms and took in a large breath. Before she screamed, he
placed a silencing finger over her mouth. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt
you. I found you by the side of the trail, suffering from snakebite. Do you
recall anything that happened?”
    He moved his hand
away.
    Her throat rippled
with a swallow, and she licked her full lips. “I do remember.” A tremor
quivered in her voice. “I was trying to mount a horse when I heard the rattle.
Before I could move… the snake…” She struggled to sit.
    “Whoa!” He
restrained her. “Don’t rush things. I really mean you no harm. If I did, I’d
have left you just where I found you. I brought you to my camp to fetch
medicine to help ease your fever. If your hasty exit is any indication, I’d say
you’re on the mend.” He widened his grin, hoping to put her at ease and sensed
it working.
    She studied him.
“You look familiar. Do I know you?”
    “I don’t think so;
but I can tell you that I’m not this Molly person you’ve been calling me in
your delirium.”
    She grimaced. “Molly
was my friend. She died.”
    “I’m sorry to hear
that. Did she pass recently?”
    “Yes, after the
wagon train was attacked, she and I were the only two left alive. I couldn’t
save her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.” A tear trickled from the corner of her
eye.
    He shook his head in
disbelief. “The Simms’ train?”
    “Yes, that’s the
one. What do you know about it?” She stared at him, distrust shining in her
eyes.
    “I must have just
missed you. I hired on to scout for the train, and after finding it in
shambles, I was sure no one could have survived. You are truly a miracle.”
    She struggled to sit
again, and he helped, letting her rest against his shoulder.
    “I’m sure you did
your best to save your friend,” Wolf said, grimacing in silence while trying to
ignore the pain of her elbow against his wound.
    “I’m so very tired,”
she muttered, her head lolling to the side.
    He lightly jostled
her. “I can take you back inside the shelter to lie down, but I sure would like
to know your name. Mine is Gray Wolf… well Wolf, mostly.
    “I’m Sarah, Sarah
Collins.” She glanced back at him, her warm breath assailing his chest. “Are
you an Indian? You don’t sound like one.”
    “That depends on
your point of view. Red skinned people don’t like me much because my pa was
white, and the pale-faced people don’t care for me because my ma was an Indian.
I’m what people call a half-breed. I’m sure you’ve heard the term. I guess