Chapter 18

NORA’S FEET TOUCHED the ground the next morning and she stretched out her back. Having spent the night in some strange places over the years, she couldn’t say she’d ever slept in a tree before. Not that she had gotten much sleep last night, terrified as she was of falling out of the tree if she slept too soundly. She had dozed here and there, but between the cold and fear of plunging to the ground, it hadn’t been a restful night.

Looking for any signs of British patrols, her eyes scanned the trees. The unnerving feeling of being watched set-tled over her. Turning slowly, she spotted Running Bull standing perhaps a half dozen yards away. Nora had never encountered an Indian before last night, and she wondered what he was doing traveling with Jack. Two long, black braids hung below a wool cap. With such a large fur—similar to the one Jack wore—covering the upper part of his body, she had a difficult time as-sessing his size. The man also wore buckskin breeches like Jack did, and Nora couldn’t help but admire them. He seemed so warm, and she felt chilled to her bones.

With some surprise Nora realized that she wasn’t scared, and it hadn’t occurred to her to be so. Though she had encountered many different types of people over her time traveling the globe, of different colors and cultures, that didn’t mean she was naturally so trusting. The fact that Jack had trusted the man, seemed to care about him even, made her pause to assess the sit-uation before rushing to rash and ignorant conclusions.

“Good morning, Mr. Running Bull,” she said with what she hoped was a welcoming smile.

“Just Running Bull is fine.”

Nora jumped at Jack’s voice. He moved just as stealthily as the Indian. When she turned, he stood on the opposite side of the clearing, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. A movement caught her eye, and she turned to see that the Indian had mimicked Jack’s stance. Was it a standoff then? Uncomfortable being in the middle, Nora walked forward so they now formed something of a triangle. Intrigued by this encounter, she decided her full bladder could wait a few more minutes.

“This is not keeping your distance, Running Bull,” Jack said, appearing irritated with the man.

Running Bull said something in a language she didn’t understand, and Nora was startled when Jack answered him in the same foreign tongue. It shouldn’t have surprised her.
After all, Jack had been raised by Shawnee Indians. It would only make sense that they’d taught him their language. An argument seemed to begin, and since it didn’t appear as if they would have it in English, she decided to take care of nature’s call. When she returned, the atmosphere felt tense. Or at least Jack seemed tense. Running Bull had started a small fire and was heating wa-ter over it. Gesturing for Nora to follow, Jack left the little camp.

Nora blew on her hands as she followed Jack away from the stream to a little clearing.

“I don’t want Running Bull to accompany us to Phila-delphia,” Jack said abruptly. “He disagrees with my decision to leave him behind.”

“Do you really think it will be dangerous for him?” she asked, surprised. She had read newspapers and books in Ben’s library and knew relations among the Colonies and
Indians were strained. Hostilities rarely reached this far in and close to the coast. They were mostly in the western wilderness where the settlers were less populated. In a city such as Philadelphia, the militia and the British Army could quickly stop an Indian attack, but they might not move to help a lone Indian among white peo-ple.

“He is the son of our chief and must learn the ways of the white world. Yes, I am worried there will be hostility toward him,” Jack nodded, stopping in the clearing and looking around. “Especially in the company of a refined white woman.”

“I would not let anything happen to him,” Nora vowed. She decided not to take offense by Jack’s chuckle. He had not seen her fighting skills for himself.

Pulling her cap down over her ears, Nora sniffed against the cold. Looking around the area, she wondered why he had brought her over here. She arched a brow when she saw him pull out knives from each of his boots.

“I would like to assess your skill,” Jack explained, hand-ing her a knife. “First, let’s see what you know, then I will decide what you still need to learn.”

Nora’s brows shot up her forehead and she looked around her, assessing an invisible audience. Did he assume she was lacking in some way? She would take great pleasure in showing him otherwise.

After setting her body in a fighting stance, Nora crooked her finger at Jack. He arched a brow, but she held her ground. “Come at me, sir,” she challenged. “And do not hold back. I’m not easily broken.” She failed to elaborate on the fact that if she did happen to break, she was easily healed.

As he dove for her, Nora crossed her left arm under his right and stepped into him. By turning just enough, she was able to hook herself under his shoulder. Stepping forward to brace herself against his weight, she jerked him over her shoulder and to the ground. Dropping a knee onto his chest, she pulled her knife and pressed it to his throat.

When she saw the slightest flicker in his eyes that he might try to roll them, she nudged her knee further down his body, dangerously low.

“Careful now, sir,” she said, a wicked and victorious grin spreading across her face. “There is more than one way to incapacitate a male attacker long enough to get away.”

Jack gulped and glanced down at her knee. Nora pushed herself off of him. “If you wouldn’t mind, sir, I’d like to save further demonstra-tions for after I’ve broken my fast. Would you also like to see my skill in hunting and trapping?”



NORA WASHED in the stream as quickly as possible while they waited to see what her trap might yield for supper, as the setting sun provided a dimmer light. She dared not do any more than her face and hands with Jack settled on the embankment sharpening a knife. A second knife and tomahawk lay at his feet, along with a rifle. He was guarding her, just like he said he would, but she could not forget that she still needed to find her Warrior. Jack’s constant surveillance could be problematic if she had to slip away to meet with this elusive person.

Nora decided to make peace instead and sat down next to him, brushing out her long chestnut hair. Would that she could have a shorter cut. She did for some time, but it was best to change her appearance as much as possible to help avoid detec-tion. Perhaps in Philadelphia she could have her hair cut or even dyed. It was a common practice among those born with red hair.

Anonymity was another reason she enjoyed her breeches. With her hair under a hat, given a fast look she could be mistaken for a man. Nora dragged her saddlebag closer to her and rummaged through it until she retrieved a ribbon, then began braiding her hair into a long rope. When she finally finished, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and wrapped it tighter against her.

“Is there something on your mind, Mr. Justice?” Nora asked, dismayed at the little puffs of white air that came from her mouth when she spoke. She couldn’t get sick from the cold, and she certainly wouldn’t die from it, but damn if she didn’t hate the frigid winter all the same.

“Many things,” he said. “Most prominent is the question of why exactly Lord Rogan is after you. What is it he wants with you, my lady?”

“Are the specifics so important?” Nora countered. “Is it not sufficient enough that he is? The less you know, the better off you are.”

“I find that evasive,” Jack said.

“Why were you in the woods that day when you saved me?”

“My business is not relevant to whether or not I can pro-tect you,” Jack said. “I was in the right place at the right time. That is all that matters.”

“I find that evasive, sir.”

“So, we are at an impasse then,” Jack nodded. He returned the knife he was sharpening to the sheath on his calf and picked up the tomahawk, beginning the process over again.

“It would appear so,” Nora agreed. “If I could share my plans, I would. Is it not enough for us to simply travel the same route and assist each other along the way?”

“For now,” Jack relented, and Nora let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “But we will need to trust each other at some point, and secrets tend to get in the way of accom-plishing that.”

“Very well.” Nora rose and gathered her saddlebag, relieved that he had decided not to push the issue. As curious as she was about Jack and what sort of mission he and Running Bull were on, she could not afford to trade secrets to satisfy her curiosity.