she closed her eyes and became lost in thought. Always her thoughts returned to Sage. It gave her an empty feeling at the pit of her stomach to realize that she would never see him again.
Leonida recalled something her father had said long ago before they had moved to Fort Defiance, that among all Indian tribes, the Navaho were the most difficult to control. After arriving at Fort Defiance, though, he had come to understand that the Navaho, except for a few renegades, were a gentle, caring people who kept to themselves, leaving the whites alone.
She bit her lower lip as she thought of her father and how he would have handled this situation. If he had been alive, there would have been more bargaining with the Navaho, instead of just giving them an ultimatum. Even Harold and Kit Carson understood the dangers, or they wouldnât have sent the women and children of the fort to find temporary shelter and safety elsewhere.
As the stagecoach rounded a clump of thorn bushes in a flurry of dust, pitching Leonida forward, her eyes flew open wildly. She grabbed for the door and steadied herself. Then she gasped when she heard the sudden shrieks of Indians and gunfire approaching the stagecoach from behind.
Leonidaâs heartbeat quickened at the thought of an Indian massacre. Panic had seized the women and children, and they screamed and clutched at one another. Leonida turned from them and leaned her head out of the window just in time to see a long Indian lance pierce the arm of one of the soldiers, and she watched as gunfire felled others.
The Indians came into view, riding like the wind, their backs level with their horses. Gritty dust rose from the trail in clouds, blocking the sight of the other Indians. But Leonida could still hear their murderous cries, and the screams of the soldiers as they fell from their horses.
Then the dust cleared somewhat, and Leonida paled when she recognized Sage among the Indians advancing closer and closer to the stagecoach. She was shocked and disappointed that Sage was taking part in this dreadful raid. All along she had seen him as a peace-loving man, incapable of violence such as this.
She gasped as Sage raised his rifle and aimed at the stagecoach, leveling the gun on the driver. She was glad when he didnât shoot immediately but shouted to the driver to stop, at least giving him a chance.
She inhaled a deep breath when the driver did stop the stagecoach. Not only did he throw down his arms but the soldiers who were not wounded stopped their horses and dropped their weapons to the ground, soon thrusting their hands into the air, giving up the fight to the Navaho.
From the shadows of the stagecoach Leonida watched Sage closely as he rode up close and drew a tight rein. Sage ordered the driver down, then his gaze moved to the door.
âAll passengers step to the ground,â he shouted, motioning with the barrel of his rifle toward the door. âOne by one, leave the stagecoach. Quickly!â
Leonidaâs trembling fingers reached for the door latch.
âQuickly!â Sage said, this time more impatiently.
With the children crowding in behind her, crying, and the women sobbing, Leonida slowly opened the door. The moment she moved out of the shadows and Sage got his first glimpse of her, she heard him gasp. As she stepped out, she looked up. Their eyes momentarily locked. But Leonida could not continue looking at him, for she was torn with too many feelings about him right now.
There were several wounded soldiers lying on the ground, groaning with pain. It was hard to believe that Sage had led an attack that had caused such suffering. And even though she perhaps understood that he had to retaliate in some way to prove a point to Kit Carson and Harold, she could not condone such violence.
A finger on her chin, turning her eyes upward, made Leonidaâs pulse race, for she knew whose finger it was.
Sageâs.
He had dismounted and come to her, singling her out
Leonida recalled something her father had said long ago before they had moved to Fort Defiance, that among all Indian tribes, the Navaho were the most difficult to control. After arriving at Fort Defiance, though, he had come to understand that the Navaho, except for a few renegades, were a gentle, caring people who kept to themselves, leaving the whites alone.
She bit her lower lip as she thought of her father and how he would have handled this situation. If he had been alive, there would have been more bargaining with the Navaho, instead of just giving them an ultimatum. Even Harold and Kit Carson understood the dangers, or they wouldnât have sent the women and children of the fort to find temporary shelter and safety elsewhere.
As the stagecoach rounded a clump of thorn bushes in a flurry of dust, pitching Leonida forward, her eyes flew open wildly. She grabbed for the door and steadied herself. Then she gasped when she heard the sudden shrieks of Indians and gunfire approaching the stagecoach from behind.
Leonidaâs heartbeat quickened at the thought of an Indian massacre. Panic had seized the women and children, and they screamed and clutched at one another. Leonida turned from them and leaned her head out of the window just in time to see a long Indian lance pierce the arm of one of the soldiers, and she watched as gunfire felled others.
The Indians came into view, riding like the wind, their backs level with their horses. Gritty dust rose from the trail in clouds, blocking the sight of the other Indians. But Leonida could still hear their murderous cries, and the screams of the soldiers as they fell from their horses.
Then the dust cleared somewhat, and Leonida paled when she recognized Sage among the Indians advancing closer and closer to the stagecoach. She was shocked and disappointed that Sage was taking part in this dreadful raid. All along she had seen him as a peace-loving man, incapable of violence such as this.
She gasped as Sage raised his rifle and aimed at the stagecoach, leveling the gun on the driver. She was glad when he didnât shoot immediately but shouted to the driver to stop, at least giving him a chance.
She inhaled a deep breath when the driver did stop the stagecoach. Not only did he throw down his arms but the soldiers who were not wounded stopped their horses and dropped their weapons to the ground, soon thrusting their hands into the air, giving up the fight to the Navaho.
From the shadows of the stagecoach Leonida watched Sage closely as he rode up close and drew a tight rein. Sage ordered the driver down, then his gaze moved to the door.
âAll passengers step to the ground,â he shouted, motioning with the barrel of his rifle toward the door. âOne by one, leave the stagecoach. Quickly!â
Leonidaâs trembling fingers reached for the door latch.
âQuickly!â Sage said, this time more impatiently.
With the children crowding in behind her, crying, and the women sobbing, Leonida slowly opened the door. The moment she moved out of the shadows and Sage got his first glimpse of her, she heard him gasp. As she stepped out, she looked up. Their eyes momentarily locked. But Leonida could not continue looking at him, for she was torn with too many feelings about him right now.
There were several wounded soldiers lying on the ground, groaning with pain. It was hard to believe that Sage had led an attack that had caused such suffering. And even though she perhaps understood that he had to retaliate in some way to prove a point to Kit Carson and Harold, she could not condone such violence.
A finger on her chin, turning her eyes upward, made Leonidaâs pulse race, for she knew whose finger it was.
Sageâs.
He had dismounted and come to her, singling her out
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