Sagebrush Bride

chapter THIRTY





Cutter’s fever escalated through the day. And though he didn’t sink into delirium, he did awaken once, to stare glassy-eyed into the brightness of the late afternoon sun. Holding back tears of frustration and fear, Elizabeth passed a hand over his eyes, closing his lids to protect his pupils from the glare. She couldn’t forget Black Wolf’s sightless stare, couldn’t help comparing...

Not even to eat did she leave Cutter’s side. Black Wolf’s brother hunted for Katie, feeding her, while Elizabeth kept watch. He offered to Elizabeth, but Elizabeth refused.

“Méseestse!” he said, bringing the meat to his lips, showing her what he wanted her to do with it. “He- méseestse!” he repeated, thrusting the charred piece of hare at her once more, ordering her to eat it. “Mâhe'haná!”

Elizabeth watched Katie, who was eating silently, sitting surprisingly close to the Indian. And then she turned again to meet his gaze. He was glowering at her, and given the choice she had—to offend him, or not to—Elizabeth took the meat from his hands. There was something to be thankful for, she thought dismally as she chewed. At least Katie seemed less afraid. They’d actually attempted to communicate, and if Elizabeth hadn’t been so weary and afraid, she might have been amused by their interaction. The Indian seemed bent on coaxing Katie with strange items from his person. Only when he offered her a colorful feather did she relent and come nearer to inspect it.

At least, Colyer hadn’t returned.

And Katie, having endured such a stressful night, the night before, fell asleep even before the sun descended fully. After tucking her into a blanket, the Indian came to sit beside the fire, keeping Elizabeth company in silence, watching her keenly as she kept vigilance over Cutter, and reviving the fire when it threatened to sputter out. In absolute silence they sat together... until late in the night. And still Cutter’s fever remained high, though the scarlet streaks on his leg actually receded.

Growing weary, Elizabeth bent over Cutter, laying her head lightly upon his chest, listening to the erratic beat of his heart. Only a few more hours and there would be light to see by. She had to hold out till then... couldn’t sleep... mustn’t...

“Ne-toneseve-he?’’

Blinking when she heard his voice, Elizabeth lifted her chin and met his gaze. “W-What?” she asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“Ne-toneseve-he?” he repeated, pointing at her. He pointed to himself suddenly. “Na-tsesevehe Hestano- vahe,” he said, pounding his chest with a closed fist. “Hestanovdhe!” And then he pointed toward Katie’s huddled form. “Kay-tee,” he said, repeating the word he’d heard Elizabeth use to address her. And again to himself. “Hestanovahe!” And then he pointed to Elizabeth. “Ne-toneseve-he?”

She nodded, understanding finally. “Elizabeth,” she revealed. “My name is Elizabeth.”

“E-lis-ah-bet,” he repeated.

Elizabeth nodded, and then glanced down at Cutter. Swallowing the raw ache in her throat, she placed her hand to Cutter’s chest as she again met the Indian’s gaze.

“Ne-toneseve-he,” the Indian whispered, before she could speak. He pointed to Cutter and enunciated slowly. “Ne-toneseve-he. “

Elizabeth had no idea what name he’d given Cutter, but from the solemn way he spoke it, it was obviously one of great respect. She’d thought her tears all used, but another slipped silently from her lashes.

The Indian came closer suddenly. Lifting her golden hair into his hands, he fondled it with awe. “Vehone- ma-kaeta,” he whispered. He nodded and lifted her hair for her to see. At the same time, he dug into a pouch, retrieving a shiny golden object from it. A small medallion, which he then contrasted against her hair. “Vehone-ma-kaeta,” he said again.

Elizabeth tried not to appear shocked as she stared at the medallion. Jo had one similar to it—a token of her father’s Catholic upbringing—and she found herself wondering who had owned this one previously. Certainly not the Indian. Vaguely she could see the raised golden image of the Virgin Mary, holding her baby son. Her eyes closed as she whispered a prayer for Cutter. She gulped back a sob, unable to speak for the emotion that assailed her.

Seeing her tears, the Indian restored the medallion into the pouch, and then moved to wipe them away. “Naóotséotse!” he said softly, closing his eyes and cocking his head to one side. When she didn’t immediately comply, he again cocked his head and closed his eyes, laying his head upon his hand. “Naóotséotse, “ he whispered.

He wanted her to sleep, she realized. Still unable to speak, Elizabeth nodded weakly and laid her head down upon Cutter’s chest.

Satisfied, the Indian rose abruptly. “Na-ase,” he said, and turned away, and Elizabeth thought he might intend to leave, because he lifted his canteen, studied it an instant, and then set it back down again with a brief glance her way. She was touched by the gesture. That he would leave her something so precious as his waterskin.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered hoarsely, her throat raw with the salty burn of tears.

The Indian turned to walk away, and she knew intuitively that he was, in fact, leaving her. “Thank you!” she called out a little louder.

He stopped abruptly and turned to look at her, his brows furrowing slightly.

Elizabeth wanted to ask him why he’d come... to beg him not to go... not to leave her and Katie alone. But she knew that it wouldn’t be in his best interest to stay. He would lose his life if someone came upon them. Too many would hate him for his color. He must have known it as well, and determined that the time had come for him to leave. She sensed it in the wariness that had returned to him. Nevertheless, his coming had been a gift that she would never forget, never question, and would always be grateful for, and her mind searched for the Cheyenne word Cutter had taught her to say thank you. “Ne-esh,” she repeated as closely as she remembered.

He raised his brows curiously at her pronunciation of the word; nevertheless, he seemed to understand, because the tiniest smile quirked at his lips as he nodded his farewell. “Ne-sta-va-hose-voomatse,” he enunciated slowly. He glanced briefly at Katie, nodding, and then walked beyond the campfire’s light, into the night. And despite the fact that she couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, Elizabeth sensed his presence for a long time afterward.

Somewhere, he was watching her.

Grateful for that act of kindness from a stranger, she sank back down over Cutter’s still form, repeating the unintelligible words as a listlessness enveloped her. She concentrated on the beat of Cutter’s heart, the rhythm of his breath. Tears squeezed from her eyes as she closed them. Seeing Cutter’s face, she imagined she heard him call to her, speak to her. Finally she let go, and drifted...



“I failed—miserably!”

“No you didn’t, Lizbeth. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The man was already six feet under when he fell off that horse. I tried to tell you as much... but you wouldn’t listen... There was nothing more you could have done. As my mother’s people would have said, the shadow had long left him, he only breathed—Chrissakes, woman don’t you know how proud of you I am?”

“P-Proud?”

“... Damn proud!”

... Don’t you know how proud of you I am?

There was nothing more you could have done.

Nothing more.



The shadow had long left him, and he only breathed...

he only breathed...

only breathed...

Sobbing in her sleep, Elizabeth clutched at Cutter’s sweat-soaked shirt, holding on to him as though to cleave him to her with that desperate gesture. She couldn’t let him slip away, too... couldn’t live without him. Her eyes flew open suddenly, to find that the fire had long died, and once again, pink shaded the sky above. Cutter’s eyes were closed, but his skin had cooled and his hair and clothes were soaked; a good sign.

Yet he was still. Too still.

The memory of Black Wolf lying so still in death besieged her suddenly, and despite herself, panic found a foothold. Closing her weary eyes in refusal, she began to hum, and when she realized what she was doing, her face contorted and she yielded at last to the convulsive sobs that shook her within.

“You can’t leave me,” she whispered, grief-stricken. “You can’t—I won’t let you,” she told him, grasping his sweat-soaked shirt firmly. With lips that trembled, she kissed his mouth, tasting the salt of her tears as they slipped onto his wind-chapped lips.



Cutter’s eyes opened, but Elizabeth didn’t notice. Her own eyes were closed, her lashes glistening with tears, as she pleaded with him, savored his lips. The sight of her bent over him, kissing him with so much tenderness, filled him with exhilaration.

He’d awakened earlier to find her sleeping fitfully atop him, but bushed as he was, he’d let her sleep on. And within minutes, he’d fallen back asleep himself.

“Who will help me raise Katie?” Elizabeth sobbed brokenly. “I can’t do it alone... I need you, Cutter,” she implored. “Come back to me... please. Katie deserves a father... I need a husband... ” She gave a choked little laugh suddenly, burying her head against his throat, whispering a kiss there. “Can’t raise her out of wedlock, you know... What will people say?” she asked a little hysterically.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. Elizabeth must have felt it and stiffened.

His throat thick with emotion, Cutter whispered, “Shhh, bright eyes... don’t cry.” He reached out, touching a lock of her hair, fondling it reverently between his scarred fingers, assuring himself that she was real, that he hadn’t died and gone to heaven.



Startled by the sound of his voice, the unexpected touch of his hand, Elizabeth glanced up, tears shimmering in her eyes. A cry of relief broke from her lips. “Cutter?”

“You weren’t askin’ me to ride the river with you, were you, Doc?”

Confused, Elizabeth shook her head softly, repeating his words. “R-Ride the river?”

“Share a tepee,” he said with quiet emphasis.

“Share a tepee?” she echoed over the pounding beat of her heart. A joyous tear slipped over her lashes and slid down her cheek as she began to understand what it was that he was asking. “I-I don’t know how to swim,” she replied recklessly.

Like the day she’d first laid eyes upon him, his eyes were dark, insolent, teasing her even now. “Blind as a bat, too,” he remarked baldly, “and can’t shoot to save your life... but I’m willin’ t’ teach you the one... overlook the other.”

Seeing the flicker of amusement in his eyes, Elizabeth managed a choking laugh, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Her fingers brushed reverently over his beard, her eyes growing dreamy, full of yearning. “I can shoot,” she whispered, “and I believe I see very clearly, too, Mr. McKenzie—does that mean you’re accepting?” She smiled tentatively, the beat of her heart stilling as she awaited his reply.

For a moment he studied her intently. “Depends,” he replied huskily, a weak smile tipping the sensuous corners of his mouth.

“On what?” she asked breathlessly.

His eyes grew openly amused, challenging her. “On whether you’re asking.”

Elizabeth stared at him, not quite believing what it was they were speaking of—that she was actually asking him to marry her. She was actually asking... She couldn’t stop herself. Nothing could have stopped her in that moment. She felt as brazen as she likely sounded.

For an instant his eyes turned sober as he reminded her, “Won’t be easy... being a half-breed’s wife. Be more like ridin’ the rapids.”

Elizabeth choked on an elated sob. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for the fact that she loved Cutter McKenzie... wanted to spend her life with him... wanted to bear his children. “I... I believe I’m asking,” she murmured, half laughing, half crying. Hot, exultant tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Believe?”

“Am.”

A satisfied gleam came into Cutter’s eyes suddenly, and his husky whisper reached into her soul. “Then I reckon I’m acceptin’, Miz Bowcock.”

With a joyous cry, Elizabeth surged forward, kissing his mouth passionately, sobbing without restraint. “I love you, Cutter McKenzie!” She withdrew suddenly, laying her forehead against his chin. “But you frightened me!” She lifted her anguished gaze to his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

“Reckon I thought I was too tough to be brought down by a little-bit scratch,” he told her honestly.

Relief washed over her to hear that it wasn’t a lack of trust in her. “It wasn’t a scratch. Don’t ever do that to me again. Promise me you won’t!”

He nodded.

“Promise!”



“I swear it,” he whispered fervently, urging her back for another silky taste, intending to seal his vow with a kiss.

She sighed breathlessly, whimpering as he kissed her chin and then her lips. “I couldn’t bear to lose you,” she confessed.

Cutter responded with an oblivious groan, covering her mouth with his own and kissing her with all the emotion he’d locked away for so long, giving it all. Lacing his fingers behind her neck so she couldn’t withdraw if she’d wanted to, he thrust his tongue possessively into her mouth, reveling in the sweetness and warmth she offered, his arms going about her...

“Are ya gonna make me look away now?” a little voice interjected with dismay, startling them both. “Granpa always makes me look away!”

Elizabeth jerked away in alarm, and Cutter released her promptly. Somehow they’d managed to forget Katie’s presence.

Cutter cleared his throat suddenly.

Rushing at Katie’s words, Elizabeth stared at Cutter in shock a long moment, not certain she’d understood correctly. And then, as she remembered Miss Mimi’s impromptu speech, and Cutter’s insight, her jaw slipped and her lips parted to speak.

No words came.

Cutter gave her a long look and arched his right eyebrow, as though to say, I told you so, and then suddenly let out a peal of laughter at her expression.

Unable to contain it, Elizabeth burst out laughing as well, holding her arms out for Katie.

Katie flew into them, squeezing Elizabeth with all her might. And then her head popped upright as a dog’s bark reached her ears. “Look!” she shouted suddenly, pointing over Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Look! It’s Shifless and Granpa!” She surged to her feet and began to run toward them.



Cutter lifted his head to watch her, along with Elizabeth. And it dawned on him in that instant, as he watched Katie run through the tall grass toward her yapping dog, that Elizabeth had saved his life, as well as Katie’s and her own. Without Elias, because Elias was obviously just returning. He turned to look at Elizabeth in amazement.

She was watching Katie, too, her profile beautiful from where he lay. Her eyes sparkled with love, and he thought in that instant that he might be the luckiest man who ever lived.

“Cutter?” she asked suddenly, glancing down at him. “What does nesta vah hosay voomats mean?”

Cutter straightened his leg, grimacing at the lingering pain. “The hell you say?”

Elizabeth gave him a narrow-eyed glance and tried again. “Nesta,” she began again, “vah hosay voo mats.”

His brows lifted suddenly as he realized she was trying to speak Cheyenne. He chuckled. “Ne-sta-va-hose-voomatse?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Cheyenne,” he told her. “It’s Cheyenne. It mean’s ‘I’ll see you again.’ “ He reached for a lock of her hair, turning it lazily about his finger. “Why? Did I say that to you in my sleep?”



Elizabeth shook her head, biting down thoughtfully on her lower lip as she glanced back up in time to see two blurry forms tackle each other and fall to the ground. “No,” she said as she waved at the approaching riders. They were still too far for her to see them clearly, but one waved back excitedly, and she surmised it was Elias. “He came again,” she revealed softly, as she watched the same figure slide off his horse to snatch Katie into his arms. Tears returned to Elizabeth’s eyes. Despite the fact that she couldn’t really see the touching scene, she could imagine it, and it was no less stirring in her mind.



Cutter’s heartbeat quickened. “Who came?” he demanded.

“The Indian. I think he said his name was Estano-vah,” she repeated as best she could. Silence met her declaration, and she looked down into Cutter’s face. “What does it mean?”

He would have chuckled at her pronunciation except that a bolt of alarm darted down his spine. “Life-Taker.”

“Life-Taker,” Elizabeth repeated solemnly, looking back at the hazy scene in the near distance. “It doesn’t suit him,” she decided with a sad little smile.

There was a sense of peace in her expression that touched Cutter to his soul.

“He took nothing,” Elizabeth revealed solemnly. “Only gave.” She met his gaze suddenly. “He called you... I think it was ‘Notsemah-em.’ “

Another ripple went down his spine. “My blood,” he translated for her, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.



Elizabeth understood what a gift those words were, but the look on Cutter’s face revealed just how magnificent a gift it truly was. “I never meant to blame you, or your people, for my mother’s leaving,” she told him, knowing instinctively that he needed to hear it. “My mother left because she wanted to, and for no other reason. Forgive me,” she pleaded, her hand reaching out to brush lightly against Cutter’s jaw.



Her words brought a jolt to Cutter’s heart. They meant more to him than even Life-Taker’s recognition of their kinship. “No need to ask,” he assured her, pulling her down atop him. He didn’t give a damn who saw them, not Elias, the men who rode with him, Katie, or even God Himself. “I forgave it the moment you said it,” he told her. And though he hadn’t realized until that moment, it was the truth. He knew as soon as he said it that it was.

Still, he wasn’t going to let her off so easily...

He began to devise ingenious ways for her to make it up to him every day of the rest of their lives. He kissed her earlobe tenderly, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck, and inadvertently peered over her shoulder... Beginning later, he decided with a groan of regret, when they didn’t have an audience. He whispered something into Elizabeth’s ear, and she bolted upright, her hand flying to straighten her hair.

Together they watched the riders approach; Cutter grinning broadly, and Elizabeth pink-cheeked.



As long as she lived, she didn’t think she’d ever understand what happened to her senses when Cutter touched her! Nonetheless, she was certain she would enjoy pursuing the answer to that question.

And pursue it, she would.

Diligently.