“I am truly sorry for what happened. I was after a deer.”
Shadow Hawk nodded. “It is all right.”
Bobby couldn’t help staring at the man. Was he really a warrior from the past? It seemed too farfetched to be true, but there were many strange legends among his people, mysteries that could not be explained logically. “Will you be staying here very long?”
A wistful smile tugged at Shadow Hawk’s lips. “I do not know.”
Bobby grunted softly. “Maybe we could go into town when you’re feeling better.”
Shadow Hawk nodded, his gaze on the horse. It was a fine animal, big-boned and long-legged, with wide, intelligent eyes and a deep chest.
Bobby grinned. Whether from the past or the present, the stranger had a good eye for horseflesh. “He is a beautiful animal. I have been trying to break him to ride, but I have not yet been successful. He is very strong and very stubborn, and I have the bruises to prove it.”
Shadow Hawk smiled, thinking he’d like a chance to ride the black when he was feeling better. He nodded to Bobby, then went into the house.
He paused inside the front door, staring at the painting that hung over the huge stone fireplace. He recognized the location in the background of the painting. It was in the foothills past Bear Butte. And the horse was Ohitika. There could be no mistaking the markings on the big calico stallion. And he was the man. The knowledge sent a shiver down his spine.
He sensed her presence even before she came up beside him.
“Do you like it?” Maggie asked.
“It makes me uneasy. How did you come by a painting of me?”
“I drew it,” Maggie said. “I…” She paused. It sounded so bizarre, so intimate, to say she had dreamed of him, but he deserved to know the truth. “I saw you in a dream one night and I painted you as I remembered.” She took a deep breath. “Do you have a horse like that?”
“Ohitika.”
“It means brave, right?”
Shadow Hawk nodded. “You have not told me why you called me here.”
“I didn’t. It isn’t possible to call someone through time.”
“Perhaps not,” he said, flashing that heart-stopping grin again. “But I am here.”
“Yes,” Maggie murmured in English. “You are.” She stared up at his profile, admiring the strong square jaw, the line of his mouth, the curve of his cheek. “Maybe you can go back the way you came,” she suggested, and wondered why the thought of his leaving made her so unhappy.
“I will try,” he said, the need to know what had happened to his mother and his people strong within him, “but I must wait until the moon is full again.”
“Of course,” Maggie said, laughing softly. “Magic is always done best in the light of a full moon.”
He turned and looked down at her, and she felt the warmth of his smile wash over her like sunshine on a summer day.
“I should get back to work,” she said, feeling suddenly flustered. “Veronica has lunch waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Spirit Woman.”
Maggie paused at the doorway. “What?”
“Have you a name?”
“Maggie,” she answered quietly. “Maggie St. Claire.”
“Mag-gie,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice, deep and resonant, sent a thrill of excitement down her spine.
“Bob-by has asked me to go into town with him.”
“Do you want to go?”
“I do not know.”
“Well, if you decide to go with him, you should get dressed.”
“I am dressed.”
“I mean you should wear the kind of clothes Bobby wears.”
Hawk glanced down at his clout and moccasins. “What is wrong with what I have on?”
“Nothing, but most people aren’t accustomed to seeing Indians dressed that way. I mean, well, it doesn’t cover very much, and…never mind, Shadow Hawk. I have to go to work. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He stared after her. She had explained to him about the books she wrote, but he saw no value in them. What was the point of writing something that was not true? He had stared at the covers
Shadow Hawk nodded. “It is all right.”
Bobby couldn’t help staring at the man. Was he really a warrior from the past? It seemed too farfetched to be true, but there were many strange legends among his people, mysteries that could not be explained logically. “Will you be staying here very long?”
A wistful smile tugged at Shadow Hawk’s lips. “I do not know.”
Bobby grunted softly. “Maybe we could go into town when you’re feeling better.”
Shadow Hawk nodded, his gaze on the horse. It was a fine animal, big-boned and long-legged, with wide, intelligent eyes and a deep chest.
Bobby grinned. Whether from the past or the present, the stranger had a good eye for horseflesh. “He is a beautiful animal. I have been trying to break him to ride, but I have not yet been successful. He is very strong and very stubborn, and I have the bruises to prove it.”
Shadow Hawk smiled, thinking he’d like a chance to ride the black when he was feeling better. He nodded to Bobby, then went into the house.
He paused inside the front door, staring at the painting that hung over the huge stone fireplace. He recognized the location in the background of the painting. It was in the foothills past Bear Butte. And the horse was Ohitika. There could be no mistaking the markings on the big calico stallion. And he was the man. The knowledge sent a shiver down his spine.
He sensed her presence even before she came up beside him.
“Do you like it?” Maggie asked.
“It makes me uneasy. How did you come by a painting of me?”
“I drew it,” Maggie said. “I…” She paused. It sounded so bizarre, so intimate, to say she had dreamed of him, but he deserved to know the truth. “I saw you in a dream one night and I painted you as I remembered.” She took a deep breath. “Do you have a horse like that?”
“Ohitika.”
“It means brave, right?”
Shadow Hawk nodded. “You have not told me why you called me here.”
“I didn’t. It isn’t possible to call someone through time.”
“Perhaps not,” he said, flashing that heart-stopping grin again. “But I am here.”
“Yes,” Maggie murmured in English. “You are.” She stared up at his profile, admiring the strong square jaw, the line of his mouth, the curve of his cheek. “Maybe you can go back the way you came,” she suggested, and wondered why the thought of his leaving made her so unhappy.
“I will try,” he said, the need to know what had happened to his mother and his people strong within him, “but I must wait until the moon is full again.”
“Of course,” Maggie said, laughing softly. “Magic is always done best in the light of a full moon.”
He turned and looked down at her, and she felt the warmth of his smile wash over her like sunshine on a summer day.
“I should get back to work,” she said, feeling suddenly flustered. “Veronica has lunch waiting for you in the kitchen.”
“Spirit Woman.”
Maggie paused at the doorway. “What?”
“Have you a name?”
“Maggie,” she answered quietly. “Maggie St. Claire.”
“Mag-gie,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice, deep and resonant, sent a thrill of excitement down her spine.
“Bob-by has asked me to go into town with him.”
“Do you want to go?”
“I do not know.”
“Well, if you decide to go with him, you should get dressed.”
“I am dressed.”
“I mean you should wear the kind of clothes Bobby wears.”
Hawk glanced down at his clout and moccasins. “What is wrong with what I have on?”
“Nothing, but most people aren’t accustomed to seeing Indians dressed that way. I mean, well, it doesn’t cover very much, and…never mind, Shadow Hawk. I have to go to work. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He stared after her. She had explained to him about the books she wrote, but he saw no value in them. What was the point of writing something that was not true? He had stared at the covers
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