“I’m probably being stupid, but I keep wondering whether Dale is serious about me or not. I suppose I shouldn’t worry about that, but …”
Ethan stopped and motioned me to ride up beside him. “What is he doing to make you wonder?” He searched my eyes.
“I’m not sure.” I shrugged. “It’s probably just me. But whenever we’re in a crowd, he seems to forget I’m there. He talks to everyone else in the room. He’s outgoing and he’s usually the center of attention, which drew me to him in the first place. We’ve been dating about a year now. When we’re alone, he talks about our future together, but he hasn’t asked me to marry him yet. I just don’t know if he’s a stayer.” I used a western word for horses which do not wander off when the rider dismounts. A stayer won’t leave its owner stranded. The same goes for a faithful partner. If Dale was a stayer, he wouldn’t leave me emotionally stranded, like Jodie had done with Ethan.
“I see.” Ethan thought about it for a moment. “Skye, if you have any doubts, trust your gut. Don’t commit to him until you are sure he loves you. It sounds to me like he’s one of those outgoing leader types. Many times, leaders are so focused on their goals, they forget about the needs of those around them. But regardless of his personality, unless he thinks the sun rises and sets on you, he’s not the man you should be waiting for.”
“Oh. You mean real love is like that?”
“Yes. Unless he reaches that point, keep him at arm’s length. He may simply need more time to fall in love. Right now, he may be in love with the idea of being in love, which is different.”
I could hear the pain in his voice. He had loved Jodie like that. “Thanks, Ethan.”
He reached out and touched my shoulder. “Anytime, Blue Eyes.” He smiled, a dimple showing in his cheek.
Blue Eyes. He used to call me that when I was a kid. I smiled at the memory. Growing up, I was the youngest of the kids on our two ranches. Chuck and Aaron were the oldest. They always wanted to play games involving teams. When I was five, I wanted to play, too. Chuck said I was too young. He said I’d get hurt because the games were too rough for me.
But Ethan spoke up. “She can be on our team. I’ll look after her.” And he did. He was five years older than me, but he was never too busy to watch out for me.
One day when we were racing through the aspen grove in one of our games, I tripped and fell, skinning my knee. I must have cried out because Ethan turned and came back to help me. Kneeing in the grass and leaves, he examined my knee.
“It’s not bleeding. Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” I said, choking back tears and trying to be brave. But I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
“Don’t cry, Blue Eyes,” he said hugging me close and kissing my cheek.
“Why do you call me that?”
“Because your eyes are the bluest ones I’ve ever seen.”
From then on, whenever he felt I needed encouragement, Ethan would call me Blue Eyes. I liked the way he always smiled when he used the nickname. The closeness I felt with him now made me smile too.
When we reached the gate to the M-bar, Ethan opened it for me then fastened it after I went through.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Skye. Thanks for asking me over.”
“I’m glad you can come. See you.”
***
Ethan watched Skye ride across the snowy pasture, making sure she reached her home safely. Checking his watch, he decided now was probably an okay time to call his brother. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he hit Aaron’s number.
“Hey, Ethan. What’s up?”
“I was riding up to the ridge a little while ago and came across Joe Alders bothering Skye. She’s home for Christmas. He was drunk. He was crowding her with his horse and trying to plant a kiss on her. I told him to leave. He argued with me, but he did go. He probably didn’t think he’d get caught making a move on Skye. I hate to think of what would have happened if I hadn’t been there. I thought you should know.”
“Thanks for telling me. I’ll make a point to talk with him when I get back and warn him against bothering ladies. I’ll let him know I’m going to keep him in mind if I hear of anymore problems like that.”
”Good,” Ethan said. “How’s it going?
“We’re having fun. The kids love the ski slopes. We’ve built a few snowmen, too. What about you? Are you taking a break for Christmas?”
“No more than usual. People get sick on holidays too. But I’m going over to the McCann’s place tomorrow. Skye said her brothers are playing Kings & Nations and could use another player.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Enjoy yourself, Ethan.”
“Thanks. You too. Bye.”
***
“What time will Ethan be here?” Mom asked, slipping another pie into the oven on Christmas morning.
“I told him to come around nine for breakfast, just to be sure we’re all up. You know Chuck.”
Mom laughed. “Yes indeed.” She straightened up. “I’m glad you’ve invited Ethan to join us. He needs his friends right now.”
“He told me about Jodie,” I said, remembering the pain in his eyes.
Mom nodded. “Good. He hasn’t said a word about it to anyone since he’s been back home. I’m glad he told you.”
“Me too. But I’m not saying a word to anyone else. That’s up to him. It’s his grief.”
“Yes.” Mom stirred the bacon sizzling on the stove. “You want to make some scrambled eggs for the three of us who are awake?”
“Sure.” I glanced at the clock. It was only seven-thirty. “What are we doing for the kids? You know they’ll wake up soon.”
Mom nodded toward the toaster. “I have some toaster waffles for them.”
I smiled. Mom always had the meals under control, even though we all arose at different times now.
Around nine, Chuck wandered downstairs yawning widely just as Ethan’s knock sounded at the front door. Chuck let him in.
“Hey, pal. Come in and have breakfast with me.”
“Breakfast sounds great. Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Food, games, laughter, and storytelling filled our morning. After lunch, the men saddled up and rode into the hills in the fresh air while Jill, Tammy, and I helped Mom in the kitchen, preparing ahead for lunch. We usually ate supper at four-thirty on Christmas Eve, giving everyone time to put in some exercise afterward before the winter dusk turned to night.
“The turkey looks store-bought this year,” Jill commented.
“It is,” Mom assured him. “We splurged.”
“Nice.”
Chisum was blessed with an abundance of wild turkeys wandering around town and through the meadows this year. I think we had three separate flocks. We even had signs along the street to accommodate them. “Caution: Turkey Crossing.” Sometimes we’d see entire trees, bare of leaves, but filled with perching gobblers. Unlike domestic turkeys, the wild ones can fly. At first glance, they looked like vultures. With store prices being so high this year, some local families fell back on wild turkeys for Thanksgiving and Christmas feasts, so the flocks weren’t as large now.
“I’m glad you went with store-bought. Those wild turkeys are tough birds,” Tammy said.
That evening after supper, Jason stretched and looked around the table. “How about a snowball fight before dark?”
“I could use the exercise,” Chuck said.
“Me too,” several of us echoed.
“Let’s do it.”
“Can I be in the snowball fight?” Max begged.
“He’s too little,” Tammy protested.
“He’s big enough. He’s five,” I said in his defense, remembering how I hated to be left out at that age.
“Okay. Max is on my team if his mama permits,” Ethan said, seconding me.
Tammy looked doubtfully at her little boy, then at the tall men around the table. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll look out for him,” Ethan said. “I used to watch out for Skye when she was five.”
We donned our snow gear and headed for the field we’d always used for snow fights. Tammy stayed in the house to care for two-year-old Callie and to help Mom and Jill clean up. Linking arms with Ethan and holding hands with Max, I looked forward to the snow battle. Chuck was on our team, since Jason and Mel said Max handicapped us. They were too nice to add me to their handicap comment, but I knew they were thinking it. I was determined to prove them wrong.
“You ready for this?” Ethan asked me, pulling on his beanie and gloves and grinning like he did as a kid.
“You bet. This is just like old times.”
Each team built a snow fort before the first snowball sailed through the air, and the fight was on. Within minutes, we were laughing and shouting, squealing when snow slithered down our necks.
An hour later, Jason yelled, “Pax! We give up!”
I fell back into the snow laughing. It was a good game. Ethan landed next to me, spread-eagled in the snow. Chuck and Max wrestled together for a few minutes while Jason and Mel walked over and plopped down next to us.
“Well, that was exhausting,” Mel said. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good snowball fight.”
“Me too,” Jason said with a nod.
“Daddy,” Max said, abandoning Chuck and kneeling next to Jason, “let’s do it some more!”
“The eternal energy of youth.” Chuck shook his head.
Dad rang the farmhouse bell to call us in. Just like when we were kids.
Ethan stood and reached down to haul me to my feet. “Come on, Blue Eyes. Let’s go.” His eyes met mine in merry pleasure.
“Who won?” Max demanded as we tromped back to the house.
“”We all did,” Ethan said, draping an arm over my shoulder like when we were kids and putting a hand on Max’s shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Max demanded. “We fought best.”
“Did you see a referee out there anywhere?”
“No,” Max grudgingly admitted.
“Well, that’s so we could just have fun and not keep score.”
“Okay.” Max didn’t look convinced.
“But if you want to tell Grandpa that you won, you can,” Jason pitched in.
“Great! Yay! We won!” Max shouted.
The rest of us laughed.
“I’ll bet there’s hot apple cider in the kitchen,” Jason commented.
And there was.
Jason invited Ethan to spend Christmas and the next two evenings that week with our family while we were all home. Three days later, as everyone headed home but me, I also urged Ethan to spend his evening hours at our home until I left for Denver. He needed cheering up, I thought.
***
Crow Reservation, Montana:
“There’s a van following us, Ramona!” Jenny said, glancing over her shoulder again.
Ramona White Swan and Jenny Little Bear were walking home from youth group at church. It was winter and the sun had already set. Nervously, they began to walk faster.
“The van’s gaining on us!” Ramona said, fear growing in her heart. “We’d better run to the nearest house…now!”
The two girls dashed toward the nearest house, but the van pulled up behind them and two men jumped out. Their long legs quickly closed the distance. They grabbed the girls, who both screamed, and capped their hands over their mouths. Both girls kicked and struggled, but the men were too strong. Within seconds they had the girls inside the van.
“Put a gag on them,” growled the man holding onto Jenny.
The driver of the van climbed in back and helped gag the girls, then roughly tied their hands and feet.
Ramona tried to scream. The man who had gagged her slapped her hard across the face.
“Shut up, kid, or I’ll kill you.” His eyes burned into Ramona’s. “Don’t think I won’t. I’ve killed before.”
Ramona, petrified with fear, moved away from him as far as she could. But she didn’t scream again.
“Good,” the man said. “Now just keep your trap shut.”
Ramona moved as close as she could to Jenny.
The van moved out of their neighborhood and headed to the freeway. The two Crow girls had now disappeared from the reservation. Who would help them?