Page 18 of Heart of the Storm (Hearts Over Wyoming #1)

Eighteen

It was over.

Baa’koa stared across the space that separated him from Tessa. Her rifle was still raised, but she hadn’t moved. His bow was drawn taut, ready to release an arrow, but there was no need. Rattler’s body lay on the ground, unmoving.

All around him, the sounds of gunshots became fewer and fewer, until they finally stopped altogether.

“We give up,” someone called.

“Stop yer shootin’,” came the gruff familiar voice of Josiah Butler. “They surrender.”

Someone in Rattler’s camp waved a white cloth in the air. Baa’koa lowered his bow and glanced toward the ground. Ahan shifted and moved to sit, his hand covering the wound that had nearly killed him.

Baa’koa stood. His legs were unusually weak as he hurried to where Tessa still stood like a beautifully carved stone. Slowly, she lowered her rifle when he approached. Her wide eyes stared up at him.

“You saved my life,” he whispered, gently taking the rifle from her and setting it on the ground. Then he pulled her close. “I was supposed to protect you, but you’re the one who saved me.”

Tessa fell against him, and a deep sob escaped her lips as she buried her head into his chest. His arms tightened around her, and just like the time they’d stood together when she was grieving for her fallen men, he simply held her close.

The chaos of the battle stilled around them. Men called out, some in anger, some trying to diffuse the raw tension. Baa’koa’s chest overflowed with relief and warmth that wrapped around his heart and throughout his entire body. The sensation grew stronger as the seconds ticked away.

Around them, the wounded groaned, and the survivors tended to each other, but he barely took notice. Rattler was dead, and for a moment, not even that mattered. When Tessa finally shifted, she glanced up at him through glistening eyes.

“I guess we’re even, then,” she said with a faint laugh. She sniffed, and lowered her gaze. “Goodness. In all the years I’ve been alive, I don’t think I’ve shed as many tears as I’ve done lately.”

His thumb touched her chin to bring her eyes back up to his. “A lot has happened. Perhaps it’s better to shed tears than allow the pain to harden your heart.” He clenched his jaw.

Tessa stared at him through searching eyes. Before she could offer a response, he forced a smile. “And, like you said, we are now even.”

She pulled away from him. Baa’koa’s eyes followed hers as she looked around the area. Rattler’s camp was in disarray. Tents were ripped, bottles lay strewn around, and a coffee kettle rolled in the dirt. Some of the horses that had been tethered to lines strung from trees had broken free and trotted around. During all the chaos and shooting, some had probably fled the area.

A minute or more must have passed before Tessa’s gaze rested on the man lying in a crumpled heap on the ground a short distance away. Baa’koa took her by the arm and led her away to where Ike and Todd were inspecting the countless caches of beaver pelts that had been unloaded from the mules and horses.

One of the warriors had gone to tend to Ahan, but the others appeared restless. Their eyes were dark and full of the rage that had fueled this fight. Their anger simmered just below the surface as they stared at the group of defeated trappers who sat huddled on the ground guarded by a few of Butler’s men.

The A’aninin wanted more blood. If the mountain men hadn’t been present, none of Rattler’s men would still be alive, but they looked to Baa’koa for his leadership. With a sweeping motion of his hand, he signaled an end to the bloodshed.

Josiah Butler was not one for letting things escalate further. He moved between the groups to cut through the tension. His voice rose above the murmurs.

“We done well here today,” he said as he looked at everyone around him – trapper and Indian alike. “Senseless killin’ if ya ask me, but some needed killin’. It’s mountain justice.” His eyes went to Tessa then to Baa’koa. “But we got what we came fer, and now there ain’t gonna be anymore killin’ unless ya give us a reason ta shoot ya.” His sharp eyes glared at the survivors of Rattler’s brigade.

Josiah was a seasoned, sharp-tongued negotiator, but it might not be enough to keep the warriors from finishing what they’d come for.

“The wise old mountain man is right.” Baa’koa stepped forward and positioned himself between the warriors and trappers as well. His eyes scanned the warriors first, meeting their angry glares. Josiah Butler’s chest visibly puffed out when he’d been referred to as wise.

“The man responsible for our chief’s death breathes no more,” he continued. “We can return victoriously to our villages and families. We have no vengeance against any of the other mountain men. It ends here.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Tessa stood quietly next to Ike, watching and listening. Baa’koa turned to where Ahan sat, his wound now bandaged by Todd Baronette. His face was hard, but he’d been listening. With some difficulty, he stood and swept his eyes over the assembled warriors then nodded.

“Our war chief, Baa’koa, speaks wisely. The enemy is defeated and our great chief, Matso’onah, and his son Nahko’tah are avenged. We will return to our lodges, and live in peace. These white trappers who fought beside us today are our brothers.”

The warriors murmured, nodding to each other, and some of the trappers cheered after Baa’koa translated what had been said.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’ll only have to worry about the Blackfeet from here-on out,” Todd Baronette called. Laughter erupted throughout the camp.

Baa’koa narrowed his eyes on his friend. “Someone will have to teach you how to know the difference between the A’aninin and the Blackfoot.”

He approached Ahan, who nodded. “You have saved my life, Baa’koa,” he said. “I will not forget. You are a true chief of the A’aninin.”

“You have saved my life, Baa’koa. I will not forget. A true chief knows when to fight and when to make peace. You are a true chief of the A’aninin.”

A sense of relief came over him. He could return to his village and not worry about his place in the tribe. All these months he’d lived with a dark, heavy heart that had known only hatred.

He glanced over his shoulder to where Tessa stood with her men. She was smiling, but her face was still pale. Taking the life of a man – no matter how vile – hadn’t been easy for her. She’d done it once before in a battle for her own life, but killing was never easy. He had become far too comfortable with it. Now…

A man from the group of defeated trappers stood and made his way toward Tessa. The smile on her face froze. Baa’koa tensed instantly and headed for her. The man looked familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place him since he’d seen countless trappers over the past months.

Then it came to him. The man had been one of the trappers who had gotten away during Baa’koa’s last raid. If Baa’koa hadn’t been tracking him, he never would have stumbled upon Tessa’s camp that first time. He might never have crossed paths with her.

“You got nothing to say to Miss Tessa, Ferguson. Best get back to your men and be thankful you’re still alive.” Ike had already assumed a protector’s stance in front of Tessa before Baa’koa reached her side.

The man looked at him with fearful eyes but then faced Tessa, who’d put a hand on Ike’s arm to signal she would speak to him.

“I…” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t...I didn’t know what I was doin’. I got mixed up in it, with Rattler. He...he promised me things…said we’d be rich.” His voice trailed off and his eyes flicked uneasily between Tessa and Baa’koa. “I let him talk me into helping take your wagons.”

“You’re nothing but a slimy weasel, Ferguson,” Ike interrupted. “Miss Tessa took you in when you were injured, and this is how you repaid her…repaid all of us.” Anger laced his words.

Baa’koa’s eyes narrowed. He’d seen men like Ferguson before – weak and eager to follow the loudest voice that promised power. He took a step closer to Ferguson. His voice was low, but there was no malice in it.

“You were wrong to follow a man like Rattler,” Baa’koa said, the words coming out carefully. “But I was wrong, too. It is easier to allow rage and hatred to blind a man. I took my grief out on all of you... on men who didn’t deserve it. I made the same mistake.” His eyes shifted to Tessa, who stared at him with surprise. Then he turned back to the cowering man.

The man named Ferguson nodded quickly, relief flooding his face. “I…thank you. I didn’t know... I didn’t know he was gonna kill the men in the brigade. I thought he just wanted to steal the furs. It all got out of hand.”

Baa’koa gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, acknowledging the unspoken apology between them. “You’re free to go,” he said. “Take only your belongings and leave.”

There was a long pause as Ferguson seemed to search Adrian’s face for any sign he was being tricked. Then he rushed away.

Josiah Butler grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. He’d been listening to everything. He advanced on the defeated trappers still sitting in a group in the dirt. “Git on with it, then. Git goin’, all a ya, and I don’ ever wanna see yer faces again in these parts, or my trigger finger’s gonna get mighty itchy.”

The defeated men didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled for their gear and horses then rode off.

“Fer the rest of ya,” Butler droned on, yelling out to his men, “We gotta bury the dead. Then we’ll get them caches of furs packed on the mules and head out.”

Several men groaned and grumbled.

“He won’t even give us the time to bask in our victory.” Todd’s voice was heavy with sarcasm, waving his fist at Butler’s turned back. He sighed loudly. He stood before Tessa and gave her a gentle nudge on the arm. “That was some good shootin’,” he said. He glanced at Baa’koa. “I saw what she did.” He nodded then walked off. Ike and a few others who’d gathered around Tessa when Ferguson had approached also dispersed, leaving only Baa’koa to stand with her.

A quiet peace settled over him for the first time in what felt like forever. He and his warriors could have easily slaughtered all of Rattler’s men. Weeks ago, it’s what he would have done. Now, the need for more bloodshed against these men faded.

Despite the chaotic camp, there was a stillness within him. The rage that had burned so hot in his chest was cooling, and unexpected peace settled in his heart. It wasn’t the peace that came from victory. It was something quieter and more fragile. For the first time in a long time, he savored the quiet warmth inside his heart.

Tessa’s gaze was on him, watching and studying him as though she could see all the things he had buried deep inside. She’d seen past the warrior and past the anger, but could she know the parts of him he had kept hidden even from himself? Could she see what was in his heart?

Had she seen the fear that had gripped him when Rattler had pointed his pistol at her when he’d been powerless to do anything? He had been too focused on Ahan and the chaos unfolding in front of him. He hadn’t seen Rattler behind him, and the danger had gotten too close for him to stop the man.

If Tessa had been any other woman, she would be dead now. But she was brave and resilient, and she hadn’t hesitated with her rifle. A surge of something deeper than gratitude or admiration filled him. When he’d seen her in danger, for a fleeting moment, he’d known unexpectedly that he cared for her more than he had ever cared for anyone.

He loved her.

The realization struck him like an arrow sinking deep into his gut. What would she think if he told her of his feelings? Where would they go from here? His path was still as uncertain as it had been before, but for the first time, he wanted her to walk beside him.

Tessa looked at him in that moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re changing, Adrian,” she said softly. There was a touch of surprise in her voice, as though she’d only just realized it herself. “Back there with Ferguson,” she elaborated. “I think...I think you let more than just Ferguson go. I know you will always feel the pain of losing your family, but today, you chose to let go of your anger.”

He looked away, focusing on the scattered remains of the battlefield for a moment before answering. “He wasn’t among the trappers who killed my father and brother.” He searched her eyes. “But he did take part in the attack on your brigade.”

Tessa shook her head. “Killing Ferguson wouldn’t have changed anything. He’s a weak man, and he’ll eventually get what he deserves.” She sighed and stared off into the distance. “Even Rattler. I don’t think I ever wanted to see him dead, despite what he did to me and my men. I know his death was inevitable, because that’s just the law of the land here in the wilderness, but…I didn’t think I was going to be the one to pull the trigger.”

Baa’koa reached for her hand, and gave it a squeeze. “Then why did you?”

She looked at him, as if the question had caught her off guard. Her mouth parted for a moment, perhaps trying to find the right words. “Because he would’ve killed you,” she said. Her voice was steady, but there was something deep in her eyes. “And I couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything.”

A silence hung between them, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire world had paused. Baa’koa swallowed hard, stepping closer. There was more he wanted to say – more he needed to say – but he couldn’t find the right words. He had never been good at expressing what was inside, especially when it came to his feelings.

Josiah’s booming voice cut through the stillness of the moment between them. “Let’s mount up. We gots a long way back ta camp, so let’s stop wastin’ time.” He limped closer to where Baa’koa stood with Tessa and waved a finger at them. “You two, stop yer lollygaggin’ around.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but headed for his horse.

“He’s a fierce leader.” Baa’koa’s lips twitched. He didn’t move away.

Tessa smiled. Her pale complexion from earlier was gone, and the color had returned to her cheeks. The faintest laugh escaped her lips, but then she grew serious again. “Where do we go from here?” There was uncertainty in her eyes. “Will you go back to Josiah’s camp with me?”

Baa’koa’s fingers grazed her cheek. His touch lingered just a moment longer than necessary. His warriors were ready to return to their lodges.

His heart pounded against his chest. His thoughts were tangled, but there was one thing he knew for sure. He couldn’t just part ways with her, not yet. He took a deep breath.

“My warriors are ready to celebrate our victory when we return to our families. I would like you and the trappers to accompany me to my village. We have much to celebrate. It is what my father, Matso’onah would have wanted.” His eyes held hers for several heartbeats before he added, “And…there is someone I’d like you to meet.”