Spirit Journey: Historical Western Cowboy Romance Novel (Dawson Chronicles Book 3) Read online

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  ****

  LINDA BRIDEY

  Spirit Journey

  Dawson Chronicles: Book Three

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all of my faithful readers, without whom I would be nothing. I thank you for the support, reviews, love, and friendship you have shown me as we have gone through this journey together. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful readership. This one’s for you!

  Chapter One

  A large equine nose nudged Skip Keller awake. Opening his eyes, he smiled at his mule, Dash, who was apparently ready to start the day. Rising from his bedroll, he stretched and yawned as the sun began dispelling darkness from the countryside through which their group was traveling. They’d begun their journey to the Black Hills to look for his friend Raven’s son, Runner, in late June. The boy had lived up to his name, lighting out from Dawson, Montana at the tender age of sixteen on a vision quest to the mountain range.

  The region was sacred land to many Indian tribes including the Cheyenne, Kiowa, Pawnee, and the Lakota. Skip had been raised with the help of their tribe, and he was thrilled to be taking the trek along with some of the people he considered his relatives.

  Looking across their campsite, he saw his surrogate grandfather, Chief Black Fox of the Oglala Lakota, Brown Stag band, standing at the edge of the ridge upon which they’d struck camp the previous night. The six-foot-four-inch tall man still stood with his posture straight despite being close to seventy-six winters old.

  As he rolled up his bedroll, Skip watched Black Fox stretch his arms heavenward and heard him say a prayer thanking Wakan Tanka for the new day and for delivering them safely thus far along their travels. Unlike many men his age, no matter what race, Black Fox had retained much of his vitality, as his powerful muscles showed.

  The man hadn’t slowed down much, keeping to a strict exercise regimen, which he did almost every day—and that was on top of helping to run an orphanage and raising anywhere from fifteen to twenty kids at a time.

  Skip picked up his bow and arrows that lay close to his sleeping spot and, followed by Dash, walked down to the large stream that they’d camped near. Going around a bend in the stream out of sight of the camp, he took off his clothes and waded into a deep part of the stream, diving under the water. Dash took a drink and then grazed on the lush grass that grew alongside the stream.

  Coming up, Skip pushed his curly, dark brown hair back from his face and wiped the water from his dark brown eyes. Normally, he kept his hair short, but he’d forgotten to get it cut before they’d left Dawson and his hair grew fast. When it was longer, it had a tendency to curl and now resembled an attractive mop.

  The cool water felt heavenly on the early July morning that was already hot and humid. He drank down several gulps of the clear water as he watched Hailey walk down to the water’s edge and begin taking off her leggings.

  “I’m in here, you know,” he said.

  “Yes, I know. I don’t know why you are so shy about this. You were raised around us,” she said, stripping out of her breechcloth and sleeveless tunic. She much preferred men’s clothing over dresses of any kind, Lakota or otherwise.

  Skip closed his eyes and turned around, annoyed at her bold behavior. Hailey wasn’t shy about being naked in front of her male cousins. She was one of the few adult women who did this. The younger men had all grown up swimming with her like that and didn’t think of her in sexual terms.

  However, Skip was painfully shy around the female population to begin with, so swimming naked around girls was very uncomfortable for him. Obviously, Hailey wasn’t going to go away, so he just ignored her state of undress as best he could. He should have gone somewhere more private to bathe.

  Hailey entered the water and went under. Coming up close to him, she grinned. “You’re so sweet and shy.”

  Keeping his eyes averted as he put some distance between them, he asked, “So has Art seen you like this?”

  Hailey blushed at the idea of her beau, who was back in Dawson, seeing her naked. “No.”

  Skip laughed. “Now who’s shy? You swim naked with a bunch of us guys, but not your beau.”

  “That’s different,” she said. “We’re like cousins. Art isn’t a family member.”

  “Is it serious with Art?” Skip asked.

  Hailey drank some water before saying, “I think so. I don’t know. How do you tell?”

  “Beats me,” Skip replied. “I can barely talk to girls, let alone know if something is serious with one. I’d imagine that you’d want to be with him all the time and that you’d want to kiss him a lot. That sort of stuff.”

  Hailey thought about Art, picturing his handsome face, hearing his infectious laugh, and remembering the feel of his touch. Skip’s laugh startled her out of her daydream.

  “Judging by that smile, I’d say you were in love,” he said.

  “I was smiling?”

  Skip laughed harder and Hailey roughly pushed him.

  “Shut up!”

  Without looking at her, he moved out of her reach, still laughing. “We better get back and eat breakfast so they’re not waiting on us. I don’t want Raven to get cranky because we held everyone up. Turn your head.”

  Hailey shook her head at his shyness, but did as he asked, respecting his preference. Once he’d dressed and left the area, she followed him out of the water.

  *****

  Skip performed his morning ritual with Dash. The huge bay equine was a cross between a Percheron mare and wily jack donkey who’d sneaked into the Dwyers’ pasture with the pretty mare one day. Skip walked up and down the mule’s back, shifting his feet back and forth, giving Dash a massage.

  Dash grunted with pleasure as he stood with his head hanging low, enjoying the treatment. Skip dropped down to sit backwards on Dash and proceeded to scratch his rump. Up came Dash’s head, muzzle pointed at the sky. He curled his upper lip and let out a bray as his hindquarters pranced in place.

  Everyone present laughed at the dancing mule, including Skip. He doted on Dash, who was completely devoted to Skip and always obeyed him. Skip understood that mules think much differently than horses and he’d carefully followed Eric Samuels’ instructions on Dash’s training.

  Eric had had the good fortune of training for his veterinarian degree under one of the finest equine veterinarian professors when he’d attended college. Dr. Ruckle had been especially experienced with pack animals and had passed along his knowledge by actually taking his students on trips into the mountains instead of confining their studies to a pasture or riding ring.

  Dr. Ruckle had believed that his students would garner more knowledge that way than writing notes and taking tests. He’d used the more difficult of his animals as exams. If a student could get a mule or a donkey to cooperate, he passed. If not, he didn’t receive good marks. Eric had passed Dr. Ruckle’s class with flying colors because he was patient and considerate of the donkeys and mules.

  Skip slid nimbly to the ground, took a couple of carrots out of a haversack, and fed them to Dash, talking to him all the while. Dash’s big ears flicked back and forth as he listened to his master and nodded his head here and there.

  Skip never tethered Dash the way they did their horses; Dash would never leave Skip. Also, he was part of the night guard. Like most mules, Dash’s instincts were to stand and fight in the face of danger instead
of running like most horses do.

  Although not usually an aggressive animal, Dash was brave and his size and strength made him dangerous when he was provoked. One night, a bear had wandered into their camp and instead of panicking the way the horses had, Dash had attacked the big grizzly.

  The bear hadn’t been expecting a huge mule to attack him and, after being treated to a couple of pounding kicks from Dash’s rear hooves, he had run off. Dash had given a short chase before coming back to camp, braying proudly over his feat. Had Dash been tied up, it would have prevented him from protecting them.

  Suddenly, Dash raised his head high and let out a squeal, which was a signal that someone friendly approached. Raven’s cousin, Reckless, and Black Fox’s brother, Owl, entered the camp carrying several rabbits and a pheasant.

  “Breakfast!” Skip said. “I’m starving.”

  Reckless grinned. “When are you not hungry?”

  “Be nice or I won’t share my frog legs with you later,” Skip warned him.

  Reckless’ dark eyes lit up. “Did you get some last night?”

  Skip nodded. “Yep. A whole great big mess. Look. I already roasted them.”

  He picked up another haversack and opened it. Reckless quickly reached in and snatched a frog leg, tearing into it. Skip hurriedly closed the bag.

  “Those are for later,” he said.

  Reckless said, “Tasty. I do not know how you catch so many.”

  Jonathan said, “He calls them and they just come to him.”

  Skip rolled his eyes. “I told you not to tell. See if I confide in you again.”

  Jonathan smiled. “You should be proud.”

  Black Fox said, “Show us, Justin.”

  Skip’s parents, Hope and Switch, always called him by his correct name and out of respect for them, Black Fox did the same. However, Skip liked his nickname and had no negative feelings about it being used.

  “No, Grandfather,” Skip said, bashfully.

  “Humor this old man. I want to know how you woo frogs close enough to kill them,” Black Fox coaxed.

  At everyone’s urging Skip finally gave in. “Ok, ok.” He grinned then. “I walk softly along the creek bank or the edge of a pond and listen for a croak or a chirrup. Then I freeze and wait until I hear it again. Then—”

  He pantomimed the whole scene, pausing at the appropriate place. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he made very realistic male bullfrog croaks. “That makes the ladies take notice and come in search of their prince. But if I hear a fella frog, I do this …” A loud chirruping noise sounded. “And once I can see them—wham! They become a snack!”

  His companions clapped and laughed while he bowed.

  Eric patted his shoulder. “That’s very realistic. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was really a frog. It looks like Dash is doing fine.”

  “Yeah. He woke me up this morning because he wanted attention,” Skip said. “Oh! That reminds me. I found some raspberries on the way back from the stream.”

  He retrieved a basket, which he held out to Eric. “Pass it around.”

  Eric took a small handful of the berries and gave the basket to his Aunt Squirrel next. Skip was good at foraging and often found berries and tubers for them to add to their meals. Eric’s cousin, Dr. Mike Samuels, was also skilled at this since he collected medicinal and ceremonial plants. He often took Skip along to help.

  Skip sat down at an empty spot by Raven, who stared intently at the distant mountain range. He knew that Raven was thinking about Runner. Since running away two years earlier, Runner had only sent a handful of postcards home before they’d stopped completely. They’d searched for him, but Runner was exceptionally cunning and he’d disappeared like a ghost in the mist.

  Raven had decided in May that if they hadn’t heard from Runner, or if he hadn’t come home by the end of June, that he would search for his son. Black Fox had immediately decided to go along, as had some others. Raven’s first thought had been to take a train to the region and rent a horse, but the chief had requested to travel by horseback, the way the Lakota had for hundreds of years.

  Raven had eagerly agreed and they’d immediately begun making preparations for the journey. Black Fox, Owl, Squirrel, and Striking Snake were experienced at traveling that way, having done it since they’d been children. Raven and Reckless had also gone on such trips when they were young, but when the military had closed in, Black Fox had stopped attending the Sun Dances and migrating south during the winters.

  Black Fox and his siblings had missed their yearly sojourns and had been eager to go on the trip with Raven. The others had never done anything like this and had jumped at the chance to participate. Not just anyone had been chosen, however. While it would be fun, it could also be dangerous; they had no idea what they might encounter. They’d picked those who were good hunters and were skilled with weapons, as well as those who possessed other useful skills.

  Mike would provide human medical care and Eric would make sure their animals stayed healthy. Skip and Dash had been picked because of the mule’s ability to carry large loads and his great guarding instincts.

  Black Fox’s youngest son, Jonathan, was a good hunter and the chief had wanted to show him and the others some of their ancestors’ traditional ways. Dino had been chosen because he could document the trip since he was a good writer and photographer.

  Skip said, “We’ll find him.”

  Raven nodded slightly, determination shining in his eyes. “Yes, we will. Whether alive or dead, I don’t know, but we’ll find him. We need to know his fate.”

  Skip prayed that they would find Runner safe and well, and that Runner would return home with them. Zoe, Runner’s mother, was desperate to see her son again.

  They ate their breakfast quickly before packing up so they could get underway. Skip evenly loaded Dash’s paniers, which were situated on either side of the mule, so it was easier for him to carry. He made sure that they were fastened tightly to Dash’s saddle to prevent slippage. He slipped off Dash’s halter and put on Dash’s hackamore. The mule preferred the bit-less bridle to having metal in his mouth.

  Once everyone was ready, Black Fox led them along the ridge trail while Raven brought up the rear. Eric rode in the middle of the group in front of Dino and Jonathan and behind Skip and Dash. Skip could have brought along a horse to ride, but he’d chosen not to, instead preferring to walk with Dash.

  Periodically, Skip hauled himself up on Dash, standing on the space on the saddle between Dash’s paniers. At slightly over seventeen hands tall, Dash was the biggest equine on the trip. Skip could see quite a distance away when he stood on the mule’s back. He scouted for game or water this way. When he wanted to see even further, he hopped up a little to get extra height.

  Around two hours into their traveling, Dash suddenly stopped and almost backed right into Eric’s horse.

  “What’s his problem, Skip?” Eric asked, pulling up his horse.

  “I don’t know,” Skip said. “I’m trying to figure it out.”

  Dash looked off to his left, out over the edge of the ridge, his long ears pricked forward intently. His large eyes scanned the horizon. Skip tried to stop him, but Dash was adamant and went right up to the edge of the ridge they were traveling along. It dropped off steeply into a deep ravine. His ears pricked forward again and he pawed the ground.

  “Something’s down there. Maybe it’s a cougar or something,” Skip said.

  Dash nudged Skip and then pawed the ground before returning to his previous stance. Suddenly he let out a huge bray and then fell silent, bobbing his head up and down. By this time, the rest of their party had stopped to see what was wrong.

  Hailey cupped a hand around an ear to see if she could hear what Dash did. Suddenly, she thought she heard a voice. She shushed the others and listened more intently. Sure enough, she heard someone yelling.

  “Hello?” she shouted. “Is someone down there?”

  They must have responded because D
ash nodded frantically and pawed again. Eric looked down over the growth of trees and bushes, but he couldn’t see anything.

  Hailey heard the voice again and she thought they were saying “help.” “They’re in trouble.”

  Eric went to his horse and removed his lariat from his saddle. “Give me whatever extra rope you have. Skip, take off Dash’s paniers and leave his saddle on. He’s going to be my anchor.”

  They tied several lariats together and fastened them to Dash’s saddle horn. Skip turned him around so that his rear faced the embankment so it would be easier for him to resist the pull of the rope.

  Eric pulled on his work gloves and said, “I’m ready.”

  Chapter Two

  Jaylyn Lennox thought she was hallucinating when she first heard someone yell down to her, but then more shouts reached her ears and relief flooded her being. She thought that the last voice had said, “Help is coming!”

  She hurried over to her younger sister. “Hold on, Peanut. Someone’s coming to rescue us.”

  Peanut’s blue eyes were slightly glazed over. “I hope they hurry. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this pain.”

  Jaylyn’s gaze moved down to where Peanut’s left lower leg was trapped under a couple of sizable boulders. Then she looked at the nine-month-old baby girl Peanut held. Little scratches and a small bruise crisscrossed the little one’s forehead, but, by some miracle of God, those were her only injuries.

  “Hang on just a little longer, all right?” Jaylyn said, running a hand over Peanut’s auburn hair.

  Peanut nodded. “Yeah.”

  Jaylyn ran back to where she’d been. “Hurry! Please, hurry!”

  “I’m almost there!” shouted a man.

  “Oh, thank God!” Jaylyn said. “See, Peanut? Help is almost here.”

  The brush above her parted and a man wearing buckskin clothing burst through it, scaling down to where the women awaited them. His long, medium brown braid hung down between his shoulders and she assumed he was an Indian. He landed on his feet and turned towards her, his gray eyes roaming over her.