Page 2 of Heart of the Storm (Hearts Over Wyoming #1)

Two

1824 Wyoming Early Summer

An unnatural quiet filled the forest as if the land was holding its breath on this crisp, early-summer morning. Even the wind paused to prevent the leaves from rustling in the branches. The air was heavy with an unspoken tension that hung like thick fog hovering on the ground. The forest had a pulse, and today it was irregular.

The familiar scent of pine and rich earth lingered in the dampness, yet the comforting sounds that usually brought life to the woods were absent. No squirrels chattered in the thickets, no birds chirped or sang in the canopies of the trees, and there was no skittering of the underbrush from small creatures that normally scurried about. The silence was out of place, and the world was too still. It was as if everything was waiting for something to happen.

Baa’koa stood as still as his surroundings. The quiet all around him was more ominous than hearing the low growl of a grizzly. The forest was only this quiet when there was danger lurking nearby. Something else was in the forest that didn’t belong. The woodland creatures wouldn’t be this silent for one of their own. His presence wasn’t a threat or the cause for every living being in the forest to remain hidden in silence.

The sudden snapping of twigs may as well have been a loud crack of thunder in the deafening stillness. Baa’koa tensed as his heart leapt in his chest. Every muscle in his body was taut, ready to spring into action if needed. His eyes narrowed and his body froze while his ears honed in on any additional noise. A shadow moved between the trees.

With practiced and deliberately slow steps that prevented any sound, he crouched low to blend into the underbrush. Instinct sharpened over many seasons of hunting in the wilderness – rather than conscious thought – guided his movements.

His breathing quieted and his hand gripped his hunting bow tighter. Slowly and with stealth precision, he raised his free hand over his shoulder to remove an arrow from the quiver on his back. He notched his weapon, then waited.

Fallen leaves rustled nearby. Another flash of movement through the trees caught his eye. The forest was too dense to make out what kind of creature he would encounter. His fingers tightened around his bow, ready to use it in the blink of an eye, but not yet. Not until he had a clear shot.

His foot shifted slightly in the soft earth as the bushes to his right suddenly parted. In a blur of motion, a young deer darted past him, almost knocking him over. She’d been as surprised by his presence as he was of hers. Whatever had startled her into revealing her hiding place and making a run for it was closer than before.

Baa’koa caught the wild-eyed look of fear in the doe’s eyes as she bounded off into the thicket with a burst of energy. Not a second later, she disappeared between the trees into the thick underbrush.

He released his breath, but there was no time to relax. Whatever had startled the deer was still nearby, and might give chase. He tensed instantly at the sound of another twig snapping just beyond the bushes. His muscles were coiled tight, ready to spring into action if needed.

Another rustle, then the clear snap of a branch. A bear? A big cat? Impossible. No animal made a sound like that. Someone else was in this part of the forest.

A slight breeze finally lifted the stillness in the trees above. Leaves whispered softly, but the birdsong hadn’t returned. The air carried with it the faint but unmistakable musky scent of another person. Someone had to be in a hurry.

Baa’koa tightened his grip on his weapon. He was the only hunter from his village who had gone out before dawn. He hadn’t really planned on hunting, but if game crossed his path, he wouldn’t let the opportunity to bring meat home to the village pass him by. He’d come to the woods to find some solitude in the early morning stillness and reflect on the day ahead. It was something he did often, away from the people he called family. Rarely did he encounter an intruder.

Whoever this man was, he hadn’t come from the direction of the A’aninin village. Whether he was friend or foe remained to be seen. If he was Crow or Blackfoot, it could mean trouble for his tribe. The man could be a scout sent to spy upon his village.

The familiar smooth feel of his willow bow gave him comfort. The hunting instincts he’d honed over the years took over, just as easily as breathing without having to think about taking a breath. His eyes scanned for any movement among the shadows in the trees. His chest remained tight while his focus was as sharp as the blade of his hunting knife.

The sound of feet crunching over the forest floor grew louder. The man most definitely didn’t suspect that someone was nearby and alerted to his presence. Baa’koa turned his body ever so slightly. He narrowed his eyes on several trees a stone’s throw away.

Almost immediately, the figure of a man emerged from between the trees, no longer concealed in the shadows. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and covered the ground with relaxed and confident strides, dodging trees and shrubs, and leaping over deadfall with ease.

Baa’koa remained crouched behind a mass of brambles as the man passed by him. He could have raised his bow and taken a shot without ever being seen. It would have been an easy kill, but there was no reason to harm the man. He wore the customary plain leather clothing of the Agaideka clan, and carried a bow made from the horn of the mountain sheep.

The Agaideka were friends of the A’aninin. There was no reason to assume he was a threat. It appeared he was just someone on an errant mission. If he was being pursued by someone, he would be moving at a more erratic pace.

Even so, Baa’koa remained concealed. It was best to wait and listen. Perhaps there were others who followed. A minute passed, then another. The lone man was out of sight, and his strides could no longer be heard.

Gradually, the surrounding woods came alive again. Birds began to chirp, and a squirrel scurried up a nearby tree trunk, chattering loudly to announce that the danger had passed. Even the morning breeze picked up again as if the land had released a sigh of relief.

Baa’koa left his hiding place. He returned the arrow back into the quiver then set out after the man. He kept to the shadows cast by the towering pines, blending in with the thickets while moving slow enough to keep a good distance between himself and the Agaideka hunter. It didn’t take long before he was in his sights again. The Agaikeka man led Baa’koa through the thickening forest, following a narrow trail that wound toward the A’aninin camp.

Curiosity tugged at him. Why was an Agaideka hunter traveling alone to reach the A’aninin village? He must be a messenger, bringing news, but news of what? Information was usually exchanged between tribes during times of trade.

Something urgent must have happened for the Agaideka to send a messenger. Perhaps the Blackfoot were raiding up and down the river again. Two summers ago, raids had been common and warriors from both tribes had lost their lives when things had escalated from stealing horses to physical combat.

Baa’koa had been mixed up in the fighting. He’d taken the lives of several of the enemy warriors as well as gaining a few more horses for himself. If the Akaideka brought news of raids, the warriors of the A’aninin would be ready.

It wasn’t long before the messenger emerged from the trees into an open clearing. The village of nearly a dozen shelters would be in the stranger’s sight. The sun broke through the trees and cast its golden light over the open area. The fog that had settled in the meadow had begun to lift, revealing the dew-covered grasses sparkling in the early morning light. The soft earth muffled Baa’koa's footsteps as he stopped at the tree line.

The familiar sights and sounds of the now fully awake village filled the air. The scent of woodsmoke rose from the fire pits, mingling with the savory aroma of cooking fish, dried meats, and grains that were being prepared for the morning meal.

The glow from the fires contrasted with the lingering coolness of the fog that still clung to the edges of the forest. Several dogs barked in unison. Their deep sounds of alarm cut through the air and sent a few startled birds flying into the trees as they announced the arrival of the messenger.

Beyond the noise of the dogs, everything else seemed calm. The atmosphere was peaceful despite the uneasiness Baa’koa had sensed in the woods. The steady pulse of daily life in the village was a comforting contrast to the tension he'd felt earlier.

Men and women gathered around the fires, preparing food or tending to other tasks. Baa’koa’s gaze drifted across the familiar scene of his people, his family. The children’s laughter and the steady movements of his kin all painted a picture of tranquility. But as his eyes returned to the men gathered around the messenger, something heavy dropped in his chest. An inexplicable feeling that things were about to change.

He remained at the edge of the clearing, his eyes scanning the activity. The Agaideka slowed as he neared the camp. He’d been seen, and several of the men had already headed out to meet him. After some brief exchange of hand gestures and words, the men led him toward the chief’s lodge. Baa’koa’s gaze followed the group, then shifted as he caught sight of someone heading directly toward him. As the man drew closer, his wide smile was easy to see.

"Out hunting so early again, brother?" he called out with laughter in his voice.

Baa’koa didn’t react, but the corner of his mouth raised into a smirk. “I wasn’t hunting, Nahko’tah. I was…thinking,” he said, keeping his voice even.

Nahko’tah snorted. “Thinking, huh? You must be thinking about something serious that would make you miss bringing back meat for the first meal of the day. A certain woman, perhaps?” His grin widened – if that was even possible – and his eyes twinkled as he teased. “She might keep your mind so busy that you would allow an Agaideka to slip through your fingers.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the village. “If you’re going to let someone like him get away,” Nahko’tah joked, nudgingBaa’koawith his elbow, “I might just have to start calling you Slow One.”

“I didn’t let him slip through my fingers,” Baa’koa grumbled, ignoring Nahko’tah’s reference to a woman. His brother enjoyed teasing him every chance he got about a woman from one of their neighboring villages whom he thought had caught Baa’koa’s eye.

“I followed him from the woods,” he explained further before Nahko’tah could make more comments. “He came out of nowhere, but I didn’t see the point in intercepting him. Rather than make my presence known, I thought it wiser to see where he was going and what he wanted.”

“Looks like he’s come to bring a message to our father.” Nahko’tah nudged his chin toward the lodges. “We should go and find out what news he brings.”

Baa’koa nodded. Curiosity about the Agaikeka’s message was getting stronger. He headed toward the lodges, with Nahko’tah right beside him.

His brother’s expression grew serious. “Do you think he brings news of the Blackfoot?” Nahko’tah’s voice dropped to a more cautious tone. “I haven’t heard of any raids recently.”

Baa’koa’s eyes followed the figure of the Agaideka man. He shrugged. “We will find out soon enough.” He slowed his strides as he and Nahko’tah neared their father’s lodge. Matso’onah must have heard the commotion and ducked out of the teepee. At seeing the men approach with the Agaideka, he held out his arms in greeting. The two clasped wrists.

After the formal greetings, he moved his arm to motion the visitor to join him and the elders around one of the fires. Matso’onah’s wife, Ahka’aweh, brought a bowl of food to the visitor, who accepted with a grateful smile. Members of the tribe gathered around the fire to hear what news the man had brought. Since Matso’onah hadn’t ushered him inside the council lodge with the elders, it was assumed that anyone could listen in.

“Shall we go and hear what he has to say?” Nahko’tah nudgedBaa’koaon the arm. He nodded and headed toward the fire.

As they approached, Matso’onah’s deep voice resonated around the area. “Tahca from our brothers, the Agaideka, what news do you have for us?”

The Agaikeka hunter lowered the bowl from his lips and looked around. “I bring word from my people. Men with pale faces, long hair, and strange eyes have come to our village. They travel from the land of the east, hunting animals for their pelts. They bring goods to trade with us.”

A cold shiver raced down Baa’koa’s spine in response to the words the messenger spoke. His heart suddenly pounded in his chest as though it were trying to escape. He clenched his jaw as a strange warmth spread through his limbs, making his hands feel almost too light and unsteady.

A deep sense that something was coming – something he could neither predict nor escape – made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He held his breath to focus on the exchange of words between his father and the messenger from the Agaideka.

Nahko’tah nudged him sharply in the arm. Baa’koa glanced at his brother with a frown. He was met with Nahko’tah’s grin. He leaned toward Baa’koa and whispered “I, too, have met a white man.” He narrowed his eyes as his gaze lingered. “It is true what Tahca says. You do have strange eyes.”

Baa’koa scowled at his brother then turned his attention back to the messenger and Matso’onah. The chief’s brow furrowed, and his gaze narrowed slightly. The flames from the fire danced in the depths of his eyes as he listened to the Agaideka, the steady crackle of burning wood the only sound as everyone waited eagerly for Tahca to continue.

“We have heard talk of these men from other villages and our brothers further north.” Tahca spoke slowly, but with a loud and resonating voice. “One of our hunters has met some of them before, but this is the first time a group of whites has been seen in this territory.” He glanced around, clearly aware that he had the undivided attention of every member of the village. Not even the children were making noise.

Matso’onah nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. For the briefest of seconds, his eyes scanned the people around him and settled on Baa’koa. Then he quickly looked away again to give his full attention to the messenger.

“And what of their intentions?” he asked, his voice calm but heavy with concern. “Why have they come?”

The Agaideka shifted his weight, his gaze flickering for a moment before returning to the chief. "They are here to trap beaver," Tahca replied, sitting straighter. He motioned with his hands to describe his words. "They wield strange traps of iron teeth and offer goods of metal and cloth. They claim no interest in war."

Matso’onah nodded almost imperceptibly. He seemed satisfied with the answer but still acted with caution.

“They trade with us,” Tahca continued. “They have been very generous with their gifts. They even trade weapons for furs. Yet, my people are unsure about them.”

Matso’onah nodded again. “It is good you bring us this news, so we can be prepared if they come to our village.”

“It seems they will come,” Tahca said, sounding convinced. “They intend to trade with all the tribes. The Blackfoot, however, have not been welcoming to them.”

Matso’onah smiled. “The Blackfoot are not welcoming to anyone.” Murmurs and quiet chuckles erupted around him.

“Through their interpreter, we have learned that there have been casualties on both sides,” Tahca added. “The Blackfoot do not want these whites taking their sacred animal from the rivers, but the white men do not fear the Blackfoot.”

The chief stood then. His presence was commanding, but his voice was calm. He held out his hand again to the messenger once he was on his feet, too. “I thank my brother of the Agaideka for bringing us this news. Stay here tonight and rest. We will discuss this matter further with the council.”

Tahca nodded, stepping back as Matso’onah turned toward the elders, calling them to gather in the council lodge. Baa’koa stepped away from the gathering as everyone dispersed. The meeting was clearly over. His heart thudded heavily in his chest as the weight of the news settled over him. His mind raced as memories of the past weighed him down.

Twelve years. Twelve years had passed since he’d last laid eyes on a white man…other than seeing his own reflection in the quiet waters of a pond or lake. That part of his life had ended all those years ago when Matso’onah had made him his son and a member of the A’aninin tribe. He’d been a mere boy then. Lost, scared, and unsure of what his future would hold.

Visions came to mind of his white father who had taken him into the wilderness and away from all the familiarity and comforts of his young life, as if he’d last seen him yesterday. His father’s face was a dull memory, and he had to strain to recall the man’s features. He hadn’t been an unkind man, but he’d been strict and demanding, yet he’d been a good parent.

With the memories came an overwhelming sensation of anger. The emotion had quieted over the years, but now it seemed to ignite again like an inferno on the dry prairie. The face of another man materialized through the hazy images in his thoughts. A man he’d sworn never to forget echoed in his mind like a curse. The man had murdered his father and changed the course of Baa’koa ’s life forever.

Baa’koa clenched his fists. The memories flooded his mind of those long days spent running from a killer, lost in the wild and hiding from danger.

As the years had passed, he’d found a new family and the freedom that came with living among the A’aninin. He’d thought less and less about his former life or any white man. This was his life, and he was happy. But now…

Was the man he hated still alive? Was he still a trapper? Had he perhaps come all the way from a place called Missouri into the wilderness and lands of the A’aninin?

With the Agaikeka’s news, Baa’koa ’s world seemed to be crumbling around him. White men – trappers from the east – had arrived in the lands of the A’aninin. Had the shadows of his past come back to find him?

Next to him, Nahko’tah smirked. He once again cuffed Baa’koa on the arm. “Perhaps you should go to these white men,” he suggested. His tone sounded serious, but his eyes revealed he was teasing. “Adrian Storm.”