Chapter 27

NORA WOKE WHEN she heard Jack call out in his sleep. She called his name to rouse him with no success. It took a few more tries, and she shook him as hard as she could to wake him from the dream that had ensnared him. When he finally sat up with a gasp, he was breathing hard, sweating, and looking panicked. He fought his way free of the blankets and left the little chapel they slept in. Nora grabbed a blanket and hurried after him, watching as he took in big gulps of air and walked around the clearing with his hands on his hips.

When it seemed that Jack had gotten himself together, Nora walked over and put the warm wool blanket around his shoulders. He accepted it and stared out into the darkness.

“That must have been a very bad dream,” she said quiet-ly.

Jack shook his head. “It was nothing.”

“‘Nothing' has happened on more than one occasion since we set out,” Nora replied. “Perhaps if you relieved your burden it would alleviate such dreams.”

“That’s not likely.”

Nora sighed. He was troubled, that much was obvious. However, this was the first time she had witnessed such a reaction in him.

“You know, Jack,” she began. “Ben always said I was a good listener. He used to talk for hours to me about a problem he was having.”

“My secrets are my own,” he hissed.

Nora’s eyes widened at his harsh tone. She crossed her arms as if she could protect herself from his words. He could be gruff and abrupt, but he was never mean. “Of course,” she whis-pered, turning back to the chapel. “I am a willing ear if you need it.”

She had gotten no more than two steps when he spoke again. “And what of your secrets, Nora?”

She stopped abruptly, frozen by the accusation she heard in his tone, as if he knew something and was looking for confirmation of that knowledge. This behavior was a far cry from the man that had comforted her earlier in the evening—before pushing her out of a second-story window, of course.

She turned slowly to face him and arched one delicate brow in question, a trick she had learned from her aristocratic mother meant to send an adversary to their knees. But, of course, Jack did not fall. He couldn’t know she was once the belle of the ball, would not understand that men had vied for a dance or a mere smile from behind her fan. Nora had once led a frivolous life of opulence where nobility and wealthy merchants competed for her hand.

But none of that mattered in the woods on this cold night. She may have been born and raised to rule a manor and serve her king, but there was no one to rule here among the forest and its inhabitants. Jack would never be ruled by anyone. She found that vastly appealing. She knew he would protect her with his life, and while it pained her not to share the reasons he might die, she couldn’t reveal her secrets.

“Am I to expose myself, lay myself bare to you while you give me next to nothing in return?” Jack asked. “What are you really running from, Nora? What is the true purpose of the stone?”

They stared at each other across the clearing. He was right, and he could die for something he knew nothing about. He deserved to know but would never believe the truth.
Who would? Her Warrior would. While the man remained a mystery, Nora was beginning to wish the Warrior was Jack. Though she wanted it to be him, too much was at stake if she were wrong.

“Nothing to share?” Jack asked wryly. “I’m not sur-prised. I guess we’ll both have to keep our own counsel, and our secrets will remain just that.”

Having nothing to say, Nora returned to the safety of the chapel. She’d never wanted to confide in another soul so much in her life, but she dared not. Not until she was sure that person would be receptive. And so, she kept her own secrets, and they did nothing to warm her at night.

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JACK SIGHED WHEN Running Bull emerged from the chapel after Nora returned to it. “You push your woman away.”

“She is not my woman,” Jack insisted.

“What about Little Star?” Running Bull asked, pulling his cap tighter around his ears. “Is she your woman?”

“Little Star is too young.”

“She would have you.”

“I have no woman, nor am I interested in having a woman,” Jack said tersely. “What sense would it make in marrying Little Star if I am to live in the white world?”

“Are you to live in the white world, White Bear?” Run-ning Bull pressed. “Have you decided that is where you belong?”

“I don’t know where I belong,” Jack sighed, looking up at the stars. They humbled him and reminded him that he was just a small part of the world. “Maybe nowhere. Maybe I am to go through my life straddling both worlds.”

“You cannot do that. You’ve always known this, brother. How can you draw a weapon against a white man?”

“How can I stand by while the people who raised me are harmed?”

“I do not envy you, White Bear,” Running Bull sighed, sitting down on a fallen tree. “We have always known this struggle would come for you. I believe the answer is in these dreams of yours. You dream about this woman Nora. She is your future, White Bear. She is your woman. Tell her about your dreams. Relieve your burden. She will understand.”

“Tell her I’ve been dreaming of her all my life? And you don’t think she will think me mad?”

“People fear what they do not understand,” Running Bull said. “She will understand. She is meant to. You push her to share her secrets. Perhaps if you share yours first, she will offer more of hers, and you will have the answers you seek. You will find your common ground. How could your secrets not be related to hers? How can you not see your destiny before you when it is so clear to me?”

“What I see is you trying to get rid of me,” Jack said slyly, blowing on his hands to warm them a bit. “I know there was talk about me leading the tribe. I would never challenge you for what is yours by birthright, brother.”

“You would not win,” Running Bull shrugged.

Jack chuckled, then dove for Running Bull, colliding with his midsection and taking him down. Running Bull was looking to help Jack relieve his frustration by a fight, and Jack was happy to oblige him. The physical exertion would do them both well.

They were well-matched and even in skill. There could be no clear winner in a true fight between them. One would have to surrender to the other because they knew each other so well and were always at each other’s back in a fight or a disagreement. Growing up, knowing that Running Bull would become chief of the tribe, the two of them had always planned for Jack to be his war chief. Jack could see Running Bull went along with the charade, but he knew Jack’s heart could never be in a fight such as that. Against other Indians and tribes, maybe, but never against Colonists. He fought for his tribe only in defense, never on the offense.

When they finally called it a draw and broke apart, pant-ing, Running Bull dropped back onto the log and Jack retrieved the blanket from the ground that had fallen during the fight.

“I suppose we should try to get more sleep,” Jack said, turning toward the chapel. “Good night, brother. Thank you for being there, as always.”

“When you lay your head back down, ask yourself this. If Nora is not your woman, why do you sleep beside her to-night? You do not need to be right next to her to protect her.” Running Bear nodded to Jack. “Regardless, sleep well, brother.”