Song Of The Warrior by Georgina Gentry

heard him vomiting. Then he staggered back to the clearing, looking sick. “The horse.”
    They both turned and looked up the road where the old nag was still moving, but had slowed to a trot.
    â€œDamn!” Billy muttered, wiping his mouth. “Now I’ll have to chase it. This wasn’t what I had in mind at all.”
    She wondered what he had had in mind and realized how humiliated he must feel that she had seen his fear. She tried to make light of it. “I suppose it just wanted some tasty horse meat for lunch.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes and bent to pick up the scattered picnic things.
    â€œNow, don’t you be afraid, Miss Willow,” Billy blustered, brave now, she thought, when they both knew the cougar was gone. “I’ll catch the horse; you just wait here.”
    â€œI’ll be all right.” Willow nodded, a little relieved that the awkward moment on the quilt was over. She had been afraid he would try to kiss her. No, of course he was a polite and gallant young officer; he wouldn’t do anything so brazen and bold. Why then was there something about Billy that made her uneasy?
    He started in pursuit of the horse, frowning as if he wasn’t used to walking much and maybe his boots hurt. Willow was still shaking as she began to gather up things. In the distance, the officer disappeared over a rise as he trudged after the buggy. She paused and looked around, feeling very much alone. The forest seemed hostile and dark in the afternoon shadows. Was there any chance the cougar might come back? The birds began a noisy racket again as if something might be approaching. She felt a little chill of apprehension at the thought of being stalked. At least, she would defend herself as best she could. Grabbing up a stout kopluts , she whirled at a noise behind her.
    Bear sat his Appaloosa, watching her.
    â€œOh, it’s you.” She breathed a sigh of relief and leaned on the stick she had picked up for a weapon.
    Bear glanced around. “I heard the scream and the pistol shots. Where’s the lieutenant?”
    She was so relieved that it hadn’t been the cougar returning that she choked up. “Gone; gone to catch the horse.” She gestured, “a big cat.”
    He slid off his horse, concern etched into his rugged features. “What were you doing out here?” He looked at the quilt.
    She was weary, had had a bad scare and now this savage was asking embarrassing questions.
    â€œWe were picnicking,” Willow said, angry with herself because it sounded so silly.
    â€œPicnicking?” He looked at the quilt again and she saw in his dark eyes the conclusion he might be drawing.
    â€œYes, picnicking; that’s all. The lieutenant had brought a lunch.”
    â€œI should warn you, Takseen, that bluecoats do not hold Indian girls in high regard.” His face was stony cold.
    â€œI don’t like what you’re inferring!” she snapped, her temper fraying as it always seemed to around this warrior. “Look, you may be Raven’s big brother, but you’re not mine. I’ll thank you not to lecture me.”
    â€œIf I had a younger sister, which I don’t, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to go out in the woods with a soldier.”
    She almost brought the stick back to throw at him, then remembered what had happened when she had struck him with the little buggy whip. Instead, she threw the stick away, feeling frustrated enough to fight back sobs. “You think everything I do is stupid or wrong. You’ve done nothing but disapprove of me ever since I got here.”
    â€œThat’s not true.” He looked uncomfortable.
    â€œIsn’t it? You are the most overbearing, bossy—! You won’t ever let Raven grow up.”
    His rugged face darkened like a summer storm. “On the contrary, I fear he will never become a man; sometimes he acts like a meopkowit , a little baby. You two make a