Read Online Comanche Heart by Catherine Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

Swift finished carefully. “Their world no longer existed, so perhaps it was best they passed on to a better place.”
    Hunter swept his hand toward the lodge walls. “Ah, but it does exist, and as long as my children live, it will continue to exist, because I sing my people’s songs and teach my children their ways.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “The People are here, forever, until I am dust in the wind. It was my brother’s last request of me, yes? And I have honored it. It was my mother’s dream, and I have made it come true.” He let out a ragged sigh. “I have known of their parting for a long time. My brother’s spirit walks beside me. I feel the sunshine of my mother’s love upon my shoulders. When I listen, I can hear them whispering gladness to me.”
    For years Swift had hardened himself against feeling anything, but now Hunter’s tongue laid him open like a knife.
    “For the Comanche in me, my life here has sometimes been a lonely path, but within me there is a dream place where my people still ride free and kill the buffalo. When I come to this lodge, I listen, if only for a little while, to the whispering voices of lost souls, and a smile comes upon me.”
    An ache spread through Swift’s chest. “I can’t hear the whispers anymore,” he admitted hollowly. “Sometimes, when the wind touches my face, my memories come so clear, I nearly weep. But the place inside me that was Comanche has died.”
    Hunter closed his eyes, his muscle-roped arms draped loosely across his knees, his body relaxed. He seemed to be absorbing the very air around him. “No, Swift. The Comanche in you has not died. You have only stopped listening. You feel the same to me as always, except that I sense great pain in you.”
    The firelight before Swift seemed to swim, and he realized he was looking at it through tears. “Not pain, Hunter, just a lost feeling. When the People fell, there was no longer a path for me to follow. No one to tell me where to walk, or how. And I began going my own way.” He swallowed. “It hasn’t been a good way. You’ve heard the stories.” He looked up into his friend’s eyes. “They’re true. If you turn your face from me, I won’t blame you. If your woman doesn’t want me in your house tonight, I’ll understand. My heart has little sunshine in it, only blackness. Blackness can spread to others.”
    Hunter smiled. “And sunlight chases away darkness. You’ve only to rise before dawn to see that. You’ve risked your life for me in battle, Swift. I trusted you enough to bless your betrothal to Amy. If your path has been a hard one, I’m sorry, but I see only where your feet rest now. You have been a brother to me. That will never change.”
    “Traveling here, I thought of you so often—of all the good times we shared. I hoped we could make new memories together.”
    A reminiscent silence fell over them. Then Hunter broke it by asking, “Yet you’re planning to leave?”
    Swift stiffened. “How did you know?”
    “I see the good-byes aching in your eyes.” Hunter leaned forward over his knees and prodded the fire with a stick of kindling. A spray of sparks shot upward. “Why, Swift? You’ve traveled so far to get here, and before one sleep, you’re looking over your shoulder at the trail behind you. When a man finally finds his way, he is a fool to become lost again.”
    Swift closed his eyes, inhaling the wonderful smell of Hunter’s lodge, weary in a way that went far deeper than his bones. “Sometimes a man has to do things he’d rather not.”
    “You leave because of Amy, don’t you?”
    Swift lifted his lashes. “My coming here has upset her. What she says is true. She was just a child when she betrothed herself to me.” He hunched his shoulders. “As much as I love her, I’m not blind. She’s changed, Hunter. The old fear is back in her eyes. I’m not sure I can get past it again. And if I couldn’t, the only alternative would be force. I can’t