have chosen to stay here with your white family and he will never see you again. I have brought your horse."
Nathan turned to look at the ranch house in the distance. He had promised his white mother he would stay a full month. That meant he had another seven days to go, but what if he stayed and Half Nose died before he could go back to him?
He had little choice. Whatever the reason Half Nose had lied to him, it mattered little. He was the only father he could remember, and he loved him. Luke Fontaine was a good man, but he had not raised him, and he was not happy in that big house in that soft bed. "I go with you," he told Stalking Wolf.
He started to mount up, then hesitated. Part of him felt sorry for the white woman, who he knew would mourn greatly when she found out he was gone. He considered going back and trying to explain, but feared she would ask Luke to tie him and force him to stay. He still could not completely trust the white man. After all, they were known to break nearly every promise they ever made to the Sioux. No. He dared not tell anyone he was leaving.
Still, he had to leave something that might soothe his mother, let her know he would not forget her. He took the folding knife from his breechcloth and shoved it into the leather bag of supplies his uncle had tied to his horse, and from the same bag he retrieved the faded, tattered stuffed horse he had carried with him for so many years. "Wait!" he told his uncle. He disappeared for several minutes. Stalking Wolf waited anxiously until White Bear finally returned.
"We go!" the boy said then, leaping onto his horse without the benefit of a stirrup. They turned their ponies, moving stealthily through the trees until they crested a ridge to a place where the land was open. They made off then, guided by the bright moonlight.
Lettie rose from the chair on the porch when at last she saw Luke and Runner returning. Nathan was not with them. Her stomach ached at the realization that her son was gone again, this time probably forever. Everything Luke had warned her about had come true. She wanted, needed, to blame someone. Could Luke or the children have done more to make Nathan stay? Could she have done more herself? What had compelled Nathan just to sneak off in the night like that, with no explanation and no good-bye? He had promised to stay!
This was almost worse than the first time he'd disappeared, just as Luke had predicted. She watched as they rode closer, saw the devastation on Luke's face, knew he was hurting the same as she, yet she could not make herself go to him, hold him, allow him to hold her in return. He dismounted and took something from his saddlebag. She could see it was the stuffed horse! He came closer and handed it to her, his eyes misty.
"We found it on a fence post near the gate," he told her. "Moccasin tracks from there led to that stand of trees beyond the gate. We found horse tracks leading north from there, horses with no shoes. Runner has no doubt they were Sioux ponies."
Lettie took the horse with a shaking hand, pressed it close to her breast.
"You know there is no use in gathering any men to try to find him this time, Lettie. If he wanted to be here, he would have stayed. I think he left that horse to let you know he won't forget you. He has given you something of him to keep, something that was very dear to him. He thinks maybe it will comfort you if he never returns."
"No," she answered, so softly that Luke could barely hear her. "He left the horse as a sign that he will come back."
"Lettie, don't—"
"He'll come back!" she said sternly, her voice firmer this time.
With that she turned away and walked into the house, past the staring children, up the stairs and to her room, closing the door. Luke went after her, but he found the door to their room locked. He could hear her wrenching sobs.
He turned and walked away. It was nearly time to leave out on the cattle drive. He decided he might as well speed it up and go tomorrow. Maybe she was better off not seeing him at