Once again Hunter had come to mark her home.
Loretta no sooner realized that than she also realized that Hunter wouldn't mark the property if he intended to take her with him. She bolted into a run.
"Hunter! Hunter, please…" She gained the gate and watched in helpless despair as the warriors sped past on their mounts, sending up such a cloud of dust that she couldn't tell which man was Hunter. "Hunter, at least talk to me!"
If Hunter heard her, he paid her no heed. Moments later the war party withdrew and rode over the rise. Loretta stood there, staring. Was Hunter divorcing her because of the attack?
As hurt as she was, Loretta could muster no anger. It was her own fault he was leaving her. The night before the attack, she had vowed to leave him if he wouldn't go away with her. She had insisted he choose between her and the People. He had done just that. His father and countless others had been killed. His honor demanded that he avenge them.
She pressed her hand to her chest, over the medallion that bore his mark. Throwing back her head, she screamed his name, praying he would hear her and return. She waited, and she prayed. But he didn't come.
"Loretta! Get back in the yard," Rachel called.
Loretta turned, hugging her waist, her body bent slightly to contain the sobs that tried to escape her. "Aunt Rachel, he's leaving me. He's leaving me!"
Rachel came running. Wrapping both arms around Loretta, she cried, "Oh, honey…"
"He's leaving me!" Loretta once again threw back her head. "Hunter-rrr!"
The cry carried on the wind, shrill and mournful. Suddenly he crested the hill, a lone figure on horseback, etched in black against the sky. For a moment Loretta thought she was imagining him because she had wanted him to return so badly. Then he lifted his arm in a silent tribute, saluting her as one warrior would another. Loretta jerked from Rachel's grasp, staggering toward him, drinking in the sight of him. She wanted to be beside him. She had to make him understand that. He needn't choose between her and his people. She had been wrong, so horribly wrong.
Loretta no sooner realized that than she also realized that Hunter wouldn't mark the property if he intended to take her with him. She bolted into a run.
"Hunter! Hunter, please…" She gained the gate and watched in helpless despair as the warriors sped past on their mounts, sending up such a cloud of dust that she couldn't tell which man was Hunter. "Hunter, at least talk to me!"
If Hunter heard her, he paid her no heed. Moments later the war party withdrew and rode over the rise. Loretta stood there, staring. Was Hunter divorcing her because of the attack?
As hurt as she was, Loretta could muster no anger. It was her own fault he was leaving her. The night before the attack, she had vowed to leave him if he wouldn't go away with her. She had insisted he choose between her and the People. He had done just that. His father and countless others had been killed. His honor demanded that he avenge them.
She pressed her hand to her chest, over the medallion that bore his mark. Throwing back her head, she screamed his name, praying he would hear her and return. She waited, and she prayed. But he didn't come.
"Loretta! Get back in the yard," Rachel called.
Loretta turned, hugging her waist, her body bent slightly to contain the sobs that tried to escape her. "Aunt Rachel, he's leaving me. He's leaving me!"
Rachel came running. Wrapping both arms around Loretta, she cried, "Oh, honey…"
"He's leaving me!" Loretta once again threw back her head. "Hunter-rrr!"
The cry carried on the wind, shrill and mournful. Suddenly he crested the hill, a lone figure on horseback, etched in black against the sky. For a moment Loretta thought she was imagining him because she had wanted him to return so badly. Then he lifted his arm in a silent tribute, saluting her as one warrior would another. Loretta jerked from Rachel's grasp, staggering toward him, drinking in the sight of him. She wanted to be beside him. She had to make him understand that. He needn't choose between her and his people. She had been wrong, so horribly wrong.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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