Chapter 32
Colorado, 1867
The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting long streaks of crimson and amber across the endless sweep of snowy plains. Buck squinted against the fiery glare, dull ache thrumming through every bone and sinew after days spent relentlessly tracking their formidable prey.
A short distance away, Red Bear methodically cleaned his hunting blade, the steel briefly glinting like a sharp fang each time he drew the whetstone along its edge. The enormous buffalo bull lay motionless nearby, a monument to their hard work.
"Ah ohn tah daw," Red Bear rumbled in their native Kiowa without looking up from his task. "This beast should feed the village well into the cold moons."
"There is much to be greatful for." Buck grunted his assent, jamming the glowing embers of his pipe with a calloused thumb. The rich, earthy scent of the tobacco mingled with the thick, coppery tang of fresh blood and musk wafting from the downed buffalo.
Sinking down onto a weather-beaten log, Buck stretched his wearied legs toward the modest fire, relishing the blessed warmth seeping through his damp moccasins and breeches. Night was swiftly descending, and they would need to rouse the rest of the hunting party soon if they hoped to butcher and haul their hard-won prize back to camp before true darkness fell.
A comfortable silence lapsed between the two braves, the occasional pop and hiss of the burning logs the only accompaniment to the hypnotic dance of firelight and shadow. Red Bear was the first to break the trance-like reverie.
"You've been quieter than usual these past nights, P'ah-be," he observed shrewdly, finally meeting Buck's guarded gaze over the glowing embers. There was no masking the glint of warm laughter flickering in his eyes. "Don't tell me the white woman has rendered my brother so drunk with her love!"
Buck shifted under the Weight of Red Bear's appraising stare, stoking the fire with a long stick to avoid the other's knowing gaze. "Ain't nothin' like that," he mumbled with a furrowed brow.
His brother barked out a gravelly laugh. "Soon you will be long in years. Make her your mate and the mother of your sons." Red Bear set aside his knife and whetstone, leaning in with an air of conspiratorial wisdom. "She has proved herself a woman of courage and loyalty. She will bear you healthy sons."
For long moments, Buck remained silent and pensive, drifting smoke from the embered pipe shrouding his face in ethereal wisps. When he finally spoke again, his deep timbre was hushed yet resonant with conviction. "I ain't sure the life I have to offer will be enough for her."
Red Bear considered Buck's misgiving carefully before responding. "She has earned your respect, should you not allow her the dignity of making that choice for herself?" He reached out to clasp his younger brother's shoulder firmly, dark eyes glittering with paternal affection. "Do not let past fears and doubts blind you to your future."
As the last smoldering tendrils of dusk faded to inky blue-black, the hunting party roused themselves to begin the arduous task of quartering and packing their kill onto sturdy game travoises. Back at the village, the rhythmic drumbeats signaling their impending return echoed across the frosty basin.
Róisín rushed to the perimeter as soon as the first braves' silhouettes emerged against the star-saturated horizon. When Buck finally appeared, burden straining across his broad shoulders, she couldn't contain the wild fluttering of her heart any longer.
"Buck!" She cried out, breaking into a sprinting run despite the deep drifts hindering every step.
Before he could react, Róisín launched herself into his startled embrace, slender arms winding tightly around his neck. Buck staggered slightly under her exuberant onslaught, rugged features instantly alighting with tenderness and relief the moment she buried her face against his chest.
"Missed you too, darlin'," he rumbled, the endearment sounding somehow richer and more weighted compared to his usual gruff banter.
Róisín pulled back just enough to trace the faded purple weal of a recent bruise marring Buck's cheekbone. Her forehead creased with worry, though her eyes glittered with undisguised adoration and pride. "I'm just glad you've come back unscathed."
She opened her mouth to say more but the thunderous roar of cheers from the gathered villagers drowned out her words as their hard-won prize was finally revealed. All around, faces shone with immense gratitude and celebration.
This hunt, brutal as it had been, was more than just a need for sustenance. Red Bear's words continued to echo through Buck's consciousness. He gazed down at Róisín nestled in the sphere of his embrace, and a sudden rush of peace flooded his heart. He excused himself and leaving Róisín at the large firepit with Sweetgrass Woman Buck set through the crowd to speak with his brother.