“Let me help you,” he offers and reaches for her.
“No, I’m,” she starts to say, but he plucks her from the horse and carries her to a downed tree to sit on. “Harris!” she gasps. “I can walk.”
“I know you can, but I want to help you. We can rest, have some food and go over our plan.” He turns to the horses to water and feed them.
Vanessa watches him with a frown, waiting for him to duck behind some trees she moves to the horses and digs through her saddlebag and smiles with success.
Harris returns to a small fire, and Vanessa on the ground next to it, heating water in a coffee can. The sun glints off her long braid, and a cold wind lifts loose strands.
“Smells amazing.” He sits beside her and happily accepts a cup of coffee and dry tac biscuit. His smile fades when he realizes that she really did plan to leave him behind.
“The fire is small. It should not draw attention. It’s only large enough to heat our water. She glances at Harris waiting for the negative comments. Most of the young women in her tribe considered her a threat, and they let her know it.
“It’s excellent, you will have to show me your technique. I’m always traveling to and from the local communities to care for my patients. Some are too poor to come to me. It requires a lot of saddle time.” He draws his cowboy hat off and runs a hand through his hair. His silver eyes miss nothing, not the way she straightens at his compliment nor the way she scoots away from him.
“Is it hard being away from your family?” she asks nibbling on her dry biscuit.
Harris grins at the shudder that runs through her body when she tastes it. He walks to his saddle while he answers her.
“Yes, and No. I love my job, but it gets lonely.” Digging around he smiles in success and returns with a rolled up small leather bag. “Try this,” he sits next to her, sharing his heat and blocking her from the cold wind and unrolls the package. “Jerky, from our cows.”
Vanessa glances at him in surprise, as he hands her a ripped off piece. “You made this?”
He laughs softly, “No, there are perks to living on a ranch.” He rips off a piece and puts it between two hard tac biscuits.
“Mmm, much better. I’ll be sure to catch some fish for dinner.” Crumbs fall, and she ignores them, tearing into her food. “I’m starved.”
“I can provide for you, Kimani,” he snaps, “you don’t have to fish.”
“If you fish as well as you shoot moose, I’ll starve,” she laughs when he throws his biscuit at her. “It’s a good thing you’re an amazing doctor.”
Her compliment eases the sting. “Thank you.”
“What made you want to be a doctor?” she asks.
“Gramps got sick. You remember?” she nods, and he continues. “I felt so helpless; we all did. I wanted to help, and I couldn’t. Then one day my sixteenth year, Dad found Yuma in the grazing field, injured.”
“What?” she gasps.
“He was ten,” he frowns and runs a hand over his beard to knock the crumbs from it. “I think he tried to take down a buffalo on his own. It charged, and he was hurt. Luckily for him, I knew how to set a bone. It was a small break, but it could have been really bad if it wasn’t treated. I left the following spring. I told my parents I wanted to be a Doctor. Nan gave me the money for the train ticket. You know the rest.”
“I remember him being hurt, but not the how. Thank you,” she whispers.
“He was my brother, too,” Harris murmurs and glances across the fields at the mountains beyond remembering the boy trying to be a man.
Tears threaten, clogging her throat and she sips her coffee. With a trembling breath, she thinks of his words. After a few minutes of silence, she stands up and gingerly walks. “It feels good to walk,” she whispers and paces while he watches her skirt swish back and forth.
“Tell me about the attack, Kimani.”
She stops walking.
“It was like this, that last few minutes before the sun rose, filling the land with its golden touch.” She smiles softly remembering, “Ahote and I rowed across the river, to find our two tribes facing off.” Harris stands slowly and stretches his legs.
“Why were you across the river?” he asks.
Kimani blushes and glances at him, “We needed time alone.” Harris isn’t sure what to think about Ahote touching her. He frowns and nods at her.
“We came back to angry words, and Ahbe’,” her body jerks as if feeling the bullets strike her body. Her hand flies to her mouth, green eyes wide with shock as she remembers the taste of her Father’s blood. “It happened so fast, Harris. The bullets rained on us and Ahbe’ threw himself on top of me to protect me, then chaos.”
“You don’t have to say anymore,” Harris gently pulls her towards him. Her hand rests over his heart, the calming rhythm soothes her.
“Ahote grabbed me by my arm and shoved me to the river, pushing me in. Run, butterfly, he shouted!” Tears streaming, she doesn’t realize her hands are balled into fists on his chest.
“Kimani,” he covers her hands with his, “enough.”
“Then he was gone. So many people,” her voice grows louder, “Everyone was running into the river, and… bodies, falling.” She tells him of the little girl and the boat. Harris listens with a growing horror.
