so obviously infatuated.
âSage,â he grumbled. âA Navaho chief.â He glared over at her. âPure Blossom is his sister.â
âHeâs a chief,â Leonida said to herself, still tingling inside from Sageâs touch, his voice, and the way he had looked at her with his midnight-dark eyes.
The sound of hooves behind her drew her eyes around just in time to see Sage riding away on a magnificent chestnut stallion with a saddle of stamped leather. The silver ornaments hanging from his saddle flashed in the sun. For a brief moment he turned his head her way. When their eyes met, a silent promise seemed to be exchanged between them, yet she did not know why.
Shaken by her feelings, Leonida tried to focus her thoughts elsewhere. She stared at the fort as they approached it. The high adobe walls surrounding it offered protection to the barracks, hospital and officersâ quarters inside. The fort had been built within a green valley, supplied by water from a sparkling river that flowed down from the nearby mountains. Unable to shake the Navaho chief from her mind, Leonida turned and watched him as he rode toward the river in the distance.
It was her keenest desire to follow him.
Chapter 2
Does there within thy dimmest dreams
A possible future shine,
Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe,
Untouched, unshared by mine?
âA DELAIDE A NNE P ROCTER
Â
Â
Candlelight was reflected in the many sparkling, long-stemmed wine glasses on her oak dining table. Around it sat many important men of the fort and the highly honored guest, Colonel Christopher âKitâ Carson.
From the instant Leonida entered the room and seated herself, she had felt out of place, for she was the only woman in attendance and the conversations quickly made her most uneasy and angrier by the moment.
Glancing downward, she toyed with her asparagus, then sipped her wine as she listened, avoiding occasional admiring glances from the men. One and all noticed her gown of rich, pale-blue satin, with a bodice that came to a point in front, emphasizing the magnificent swell of her breasts and the smallness of her corseted waist. Little puffed sleeves trimmed with a lace ruffle draped to her elbows. Her golden hair was combed back at the sides and held there with a slide, tumbling across her shoulders in loose ringlets.
Leonida knew that she should feel honored to be in the presence of the great Kit Carson, the man who had guided the âpathfindersâ sent by the government to open the West. Thanks to the penny press, everyone knew that Carson had guided the explorer John Fremont through the Rocky Mountains, not once but several times, and his exploits in the wilderness were already the stuff of legend. He had gone on to become an Indian agent at Taos, New Mexico.
Now, as he related why he had been sent to Fort Defiance, she could not help but form a dislike for him. He had been sent to this region with strict instructions to bring the marauding Navaho under control.
The way the discussion was going, all Navaho were being considered marauders, not just a few who wreaked havoc on the white settlers and even their neighboring Indian tribes.
The fact that Sage and his sweet sister Pure Blossom could be a target sent chills up and down Leonidaâs spine. Even Harold had seen that they were gentle. Yet she could feel Haroldâs eyes on her throughout this eveningâs discussion of the Navaho, knowing that he was recalling Sageâs obvious interest in her. She knew that this alone could fuel Haroldâs agreement to do whatever needed to be done with the Navaho, and that realization made her detest him more than ever.
She did not offer any comments as the evening wore on, not even when they had all gone to the drawing room and were sharing smokes and drinks, again in her presence. Wanting to hear their final plans concerning the Navaho, she had purposely not excused herself to go to the privacy of