“Yes, and the bullets started again, so fast, there was no way to outrun it.”
“It was a Gatling gun, Barclay loves to use them,” Harris says.
Kimani’s eyes jump to his. “He said they had two of them. I’m not making sense,” she murmurs at his look on confusion and releases her grip on his shirt. “My leg, the bullet struck me, and I fell in the water. It was moving faster in that section, and it took me with it. When I looked up saw her.”
“Who?”
“Nashca. Her eyes were open, in a silent scream,” Harris grips her face gently, and her hand clasps his. “They roped her and pulled, like an animal, Harris, I couldn’t let them… and I grabbed her,” sobbing now, Kimani continues. “They pulled us from the river…” she stops for a second and pushes away. “Barclay said that our tribe had stolen guns and attacked his soldiers.”
Harris watches the way her body trembles and shakes with emotion and grabs a blanket to wrap around her shoulders, gently guiding her back to the log to sit on. “The soldier, Simon who helped you said they knew there were no guns.” Kimani’s drops her face into her hands, remembering Ahote’s words. ‘I’m sorry I brought this to your family.’
“I’m so confused,” she says.
“I’m sorry to make you relive it,” Harris scoots closer and wraps an arm around her, pulling her into his heat. His size was always amazing to her. Tall, and broad muscles and he smelled like earth, and campfire.
Leaning into him is natural, “You don’t understand.” She takes a deep breath. “Right before Ahote died he said, “I’m sorry I brought this to your family.”
Harris’s eyes widen, and he looks at her. “What does that mean?”
Pushing out of his arms she jumps up and begins to pace. “I hadn’t seen him in a few seasons, he said that he was earning enough to offer for me. There were rumors of attacks on wagon trains. I prayed that he wasn’t involved.”
“What does your heart tell you?” Harris asks being careful of his words.
A tear rolls down her cheek as she remembers the look on Ahote’s face, “I think it’s possible, Harris. How could he have earned enough to offer for my hand and why else would he say that?”
“The soldiers and the Indians trade turns attacking each other. It’s insane. I’ve treated both Indians and white men, and always the hate is the same. I don’t understand it. We should be able to share the land.”
“Your family showed that it was possible,” she proclaims. Staring at him, she wonders at him. “You have a beautiful heart, Harris. Always trying to heal the broken, but even this is too much for you and my father knew it.”
Memories, images, screams, and flashes of death fill her mind, and she squeezes her hands over her ears. Harris moves swiftly to her and pulls her close. Kimani leans in and turns into his neck, smelling him. The sounds fade, and she whispers. “Some people are too broken to ever be healed, Harris.”
“That’s not true.” He lifts her chin with a finger to look in her eyes. “Once we get home, I will make it my mission to fill your days with laughter and your nights with passion.” Kimani glances up at him in shock.
Harris seizes the confused, dazed, look and leans forward, touching his lips to hers. His breath mingles with hers, and the hairs on his beard tease her before his tongue sweeps inside teasing and tasting her. He feels exactly like she dreamed, gentle, yet demanding.
Kimani rips her mouth from his and jumps up, backing away from him stammering, “I… we... you can’t say things like that, Harris.”
“Yes, I can,” his grin is so cocky that she’s tempted to slap him or kiss and knock his self-assured attitude off kilter.
“Kuhmaputsi,” she snaps and strides away from him. Harris watches the guilt, confusion, and passion flicker across her beautiful face.
“That’s a new word for me. What did you just call me?”
“Rooster, with your attitude. You’ve always been so…” she paces, and her hands fly around as she talks.
“Handsome,” he teases with a grin.
She skids to a stop and turns on him with narrowed eyes and fury, but when she looks at his teasing eyes, all she can think is that how she wishes he would kiss her again. Laughter bubbles out, and he joins her.
Laughter is a gift, and she stares at him with the bud of hope beginning to bloom in her heart. Hope for a future and possibilities.
“Can you travel?” he asks.
“A few more hours at most,” she replies. “This is harder than I thought.”
“We will take our time; your health is the most important thing right now.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Chapter 20
His patience was rewarded yesterday. Pretty, little, Beverly was happy to talk for some extra coin. Sutton comes to town every five days for a visit to the brothel, although he calls it “getting supplies.”
Craig glances to his right, where Evan usually rides. “You’re right Aiden, it’s been forever since we had a woman…” Craig laughs out loud, “You shouldn’t have roughed her up so much, brother, but I did warn her she would earn those coins.” Craig left her bruised, battered body with two extra coins and rode the fifteen miles to the homestead last night.
Now, he watches as the men ride away to tend the herd and makes his move. He rides into the homestead and removes his hat as he’s greeted by a woman holding a rifle and her son.
“Good Morning,” he greets them. “I’m looking for my brother, Harris Rivers. I was told I could find him here?”
“Oh,” Melody gasps and lowers the rifle. “I’m so
