Yelloweye
4 Wolf Warriors
The Family
COLE SPENT a good part of the day at the Forest Service office and on the phone to his congressman. Every member of the family made calls.
“Cole,” Arlen said as the rancher sat across the desk from him, “our hands are tied. The EPA is gutted and there’s been no move to replace it. The Army Corps of Engineers rubberstamps whatever they’re given. They’ve been issued permits to explore for gas and oil in the National Forest. It’s not just here. They came marching in on the first with permits for the entire Medicine Bow, the Shoshone, the Teton, the Gallatin, Lewis and Clark… They moved crews into every accessible area of the Northern Rockies. Not just crews, but heavy equipment. Ever since the samples came out of the site in Yellowstone, the permits have been flying like gnats.”
“What are we going to do, Arlen? This is public land. They’re fencing off areas—good grazing areas. Places where we’ve had the rights for generations,” Cole said.
“All I can do is stand between the parties and try not to get my rangers killed in the crossfire,” Arlen said. “We’ve got a blog up and have a campaign on Twitter and Facebook, but those became so discredited that nobody believes anything they read there unless it happens to agree with what they think. We can’t get press because the press is owned by the same multinationals that own the energy companies and they’re all owned by Wall Street.”
“Well, we’re going to keep fighting this, Arlen. We’ll start with a call campaign to our representative and senators. There are too many of us who depend on the land to let them take it away from us.”
“Good luck with that, Cole. I mean it. We’ve got one voice in the House. Montana has one. Colorado has seven. If you can get Idaho and Utah onboard, that’s six more. Fifteen out of 435. But the truth is, they’re owned by the same multinationals.”
Nonetheless, the family tried. They called their representatives and senators. They called their neighbors. Aubrey printed up some fliers and they gave them to the folks who boarded at the stables and who brought their mares in for stud service. Their campaign barely rated a footnote to the larger protest in Yellowstone National Park where the oil company had announced that the pseudo-fracking operation that would begin soon. That protest had closed the Park entirely and no traffic was allowed through the gates. Still, an estimated thousand or more Native American protesters had set up a village in the basin of the Park below the drilling site.
“I’m already exhausted,” Mary Beth said as the family gathered after dinner and the news. “I was going to read tonight, but I don’t think I can.”
“I’ll do it,” Cole said. “I need to take my mind away from the local troubles. My children are more important. Maybe by reading, I can reach out to them.” Cole took the box and pulled out the sheaf of papers that would make the next part of the story.
Phile: Wolves
I always get to tell about the wolves because Cait can’t handle it. I don’t mean she breaks down or is frightened, but something happened to us in before-time when we ate the raw warm hearts of the hunting pair we killed. The very idea that there were other wolves hunting in our marked territory sparked a primitive need to defend it. This is our land. I want to hunt the alpha male and gut him with my claws. Caitlin’s response is even more visceral.
In before-time, Cait and I still lived apart from the village, but we were welcome there. The soldiers had killed most of the old people, women, and children when they attacked, but the warriors had been out hunting. There were enough survivors that they had to gather and protect them rather than chasing after the soldiers for revenge. The old wise woman had still been in her tipi when the soldiers came, and so she was spared. A few of the women had been gathering in the forest and ran when they heard the guns. But of a band of nearly 200, there were scarcely 75 left.
The excitement started with a fox showing up at the edge of our camp.
Bent Bow, now our chief hunter, came from his tent with an arrow already on the string. I think he would have shot right through me to kill the fox if our He'évánó'Ä—stse—our wise woman—had not placed her hand on his arm. He was angry because he liked to kill animals, even when he did not need food. I suspected he was part white.
“This is a messenger, Bent Bow,” the old woman said to him. “Do not let your lust to kill overwhelm you. I fear you will have much to satisfy it soon.”
“The Wolf Twins are witches. We should not have them in our camp,” he answered. “They should be driven away.”
The old woman nodded toward the edge of our circle at the large frame where an elk hide was stretched. It had been an old bull who offered himself. Caitlin and I lowered our bows to salute his gift. Bent Bow took the shot and claimed the kill. It did not make a difference to us because it fed our village. But it added to his power in the village.
“Yet they need you to make their kills,” the old woman said. “You protected them from the charging bull when they could not defend themselves, according to the way you recited the hunt. And never did they contradict you. Look in your heart, Bent Bow. Your quiver is nearly empty.”
I rose from my conference with the fox and he trotted off into the woods. I turned to the wise woman and gave the message to her.
“Ma'ėhóóhe has seen many men on horses riding toward the sunset along the winding river. They make much noise and it disturbs his kits. He appeals to the people to make the horsemen leave.”
“Do they come to hunt us?” Bent Bow asked.
“Fox does not understand the speech of the soldiers,” I said. “He only appeals to us as the people of the land to protect it.”
“We should kill the whites,” the warrior declared.
“Wolf Twins, can you understand the whites as you understand the animals?” Wise Woman asked. I trod carefully on this path. To the People, there was no way that I could know the language.
“It may be possible,” I answered. “I do not know if I can get one to hold still long enough to talk.” This got some laughter from our quickly gathered council. I wasn’t officially a member of the council. Cait and I were much too young to be considered part of the elders. But our status as a kind of Ma'heónėhetane or shaman allowed us to speak. There was a lot of discussion among the older men and women that went long into the night. Caitlin and I were not included. We retired to our tent and took our own council.
“My wolf heart is beating hard, Naéhame,” Caitlin said. It made me proud when she referred to me as her mate. We had not mated in the manner of man and woman, but we were recognized as a pair and no one challenged our right to be together.
“I think we need to investigate. If we can get close, we can hear what they say. It is good that our tribe does not know we understand English. They will think we read the hearts of whiteman,” I said.
“More than ever, I see the wisdom of hiding this from both the tribe and the whites. The wolves must prowl.”
In the morning, we emerged from our tent wearing just our loincloths and wolf skins. The wise woman met us at the fire circle. Meat was already roasting and my mouth watered. She tore two slabs of meat from the roasting carcass and threw them to us like we would throw scraps to a dog. When we wore the skins, we were considered part of the animal world. No one would approach us. We snatched the meat out of the air before it touched the ground. I hate eating food that’s been in the dirt.
“You will hunt,” she said. “Before we send braves to meet the guns of soldiers, we will know that they are a threat. If they do not hunt us, we will let them go their way and we will move on. Go.”
We chewed our meat, not completely cooked, as we walked out of the village. Our horses fell in beside us as we left. We honored their presence by not mounting them where the village could see us. When we were mounted, they flew like the wind toward the soldiers.
We rubbed our horses down and they rolled in the dirt. They had worked up quite a lather and dust quickly turned to mud. If a scout happened upon them, they would look like nȧhahévo'hÄme, wild horses, and not like Mo'éhno'ha, or what the whites called Indian ponies. There was a herd of mustangs sheltered in a nearby canyon and they ran off to join them. They would bring us even more news when we returned.
Cait and I made our way toward the soldier camp, another two miles away. We became the wolves we were dressed as and took most of the day to reach the encampment. Lying low in the brush near the river, we listened. When soldiers came near, we disappeared into the trees, but always stayed near enough to hear.
“This is the piss-poorest, god-awfulest place in the world,” a soldier said to his companion.
“You didn’t see Georgia when we marched to the sea,” said an older grizzled man. “Everything behind us was black ash. Everything ahead of us was flying lead. Sherman didn’t burn Georgia to deprive the Rebs. He did it to keep us from turning around.”
“Well, ya saw real action,” the younger said. “Where are these Indians we’re supposed to be hunting?”
“Probably ten steps away listening to us,” the older said. We crept back farther. Had he heard us? “That’s the thing about Indians. They don’t come out and fight like men. They’ll fall out of trees on your back. They’ll cut your throat in your bedroll. An arrow is silent death. You never hear it.”
“Hell, you’re a joy to listen to.”
“Just keep your knife at your hand. You won’t have a chance to draw your gun.”
So, they were hunting Indians. That wasn’t good. It didn’t mean they were after our band specifically. But when we found an officer talking, that was a different thing.
“Scout says there’s a band about two days’ ride north of here,” the captain said. “Our orders are to clear the area for settlement. I want you to take a detachment of twenty men and make sure they are no longer a threat.”
“We’ll leave at first light, sir,” his lieutenant responded.
“We’ve been riding hard for a week. Give the men another day of rest before you leave. The savages won’t be going anywhere.”
“The men will be happy for an opportunity to kill some redskins. They’ve been getting itchy,” the lieutenant answered.
“Make sure there is no one left to complain.”
It was difficult to keep the wolf in me from attacking and killing both men. Cait and I slipped back about a mile and paced back and forth.
“We should warn the village,” I said.
“We should kill them all in their sleep like that old soldier suggested,” Caitlin responded.
“Cait, listen.” She turned her head toward the sound we could both hear. “We’ve got a problem at the ranch. Wolves.”
“Ma! Pa! We hear wolves down in the bottomland. It’s got the horses spooked!” Caitlin yelled as we burst through the kitchen door of the ranch. “They were galloping toward the river.” That’s where things started getting confusing. I don’t mean the craziness at the ranch with Pa and Mom Ash headed one direction and Ramie and Kyle headed another. Caitlin and I were sent to the pasture to protect the stock and took our rifles.
But things were going crazy in both timelines at the same time. In before-time, we had to stop the soldiers. In now-time, we had to stop the wolves. It was caring for the horses in now-time that gave us the idea of what to do with the soldiers. We shared all the thoughts at the same time. Bells and Bows were right there with us and met us on the run.
We didn’t exactly stay in the upper pasture where we’d been told. The horses told us there was no threat from that direction. But there were two gates that held the rest of the horses in the river pasture. We opened the paddock gate and the two horses followed us, even though their feet were still tender. The boots we’d put on them helped, but they weren’t used to anything on their feet and sometimes stumbled a little.
As soon as we got the lower gate open, they took off for the river. When the horses saw Kyle on his three-wheeler headed their direction, they naturally turned and headed up toward the ranch, putting him between them and the wolves. Bells and Bows met them and there was a stampede to the open gate. Cait and I got to the paddock to open the gate just as the herd came charging toward us. They were all spooked, but as soon as we got the gate closed behind them, we started shoveling hay out for them and they started to calm down.
At the same time, we were moving among the soldier horses and cutting their halters while we talked to them in their heads. We showed them a rich pasture where no one would try to make them carry heavy saddles and people. As each one left the rope corral where they were tethered, our horses guided them through the woods to meet up with the others. We had to work fast because the night patrol would be by to check on them shortly.
When they showed up, they started yelling and soldiers scurried out of their bedrolls with their weapons drawn looking for threats while they bounced around trying to get their boots on. A couple shots were fired and the last three horses broke loose. Unfortunately, they headed right for the other horses. The scout who had brought the word of our village to the troops camped outside the circle of soldiers and had his horse saddled before the shots were fired. He headed the direction the last three horses were going with intent to round them up and bring them back.
We couldn’t let that happen.
Untethered horses can move fast. Much faster than a horse and rider in the darkness. And a slow horse and rider is no match for a wolf. The scout heard the snarl and pulled his gun, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the bite of Wolf Riding Woman’s knife driving into his throat. The two gunshots echoed in our ears in both timelines. Wolf Riding Woman tore at the throat of the dead scout with her teeth as I cut the tack from his horse. I finally had to kick Caitlin off him to get her moving. She started to turn on me before she came back to her senses. Blood ran from her face and down her bare chest.
It wasn’t hers.
Caitlin: Sister
Everything was quiet after the gunshots in now-time. I stood there feeling… tasting the blood in my mouth from before-time. I had my rifle on my shoulder looking for an enemy.
Phile laid a hand on my shoulder and I lowered the gun. The horses had bunched in a corner of the corral, but they were looking calmer.
“Let’s get some hay and oats. Those rescues never get oats. They’ll settle right down.” We got the feed and as we scooped it into the trough Phile said, “We’re missing one. Where’s Lucky?”
We sent our minds questing out trying to locate the missing horse and found him hobbling up toward the pasture gate, trying to make his way to the other horses. He was bleeding. We brought him up to the barn and tied him as I hand-fed him oats and Phile tended the wounds. He called the vet and told him what we saw. The vet said he’d be out with antibiotics and sutures, and told us to keep Lucky separate.
While Phile was on the phone, I saw the ATVs racing toward the house together. Mom Mar was out the door with a phone to her ear and her hands full of bandages and medicine. Aubrey was right behind her carrying a kettle with the handle wrapped in a dishtowel. And then I saw Kyle carry Ramie into the bunkhouse.
My sister lay limp in his arms.
I am so sorry, Ramie, that I have never been able to tell you how much I love you. I know I was a brat, but I hope you know why now. You were kind to us kids, even when we were at our worst. You defended us on the bus to school. You brought Bells and Bows to us at the ranch. You gave us good work that we were happy doing. And you never once passed judgment on Phile and me for being in love, even when you struggled with your own relationships. But in all that time, I never told you what I felt when I saw Kyle carry you into the house. I love you, my sister.
I was frozen in place. In both before-time and now-time, I vowed to destroy every threat to our family, our tribe, our land.
Phile: Wolf Warrior
Cavalry without horses is infantry. Only infantry wears boots that are made for walking. The soldiers at the river camp wore riding boots. It would be a long time before they could pursue us. Just long enough for us to move our tribe. I picked up a couple of horseshoes that the soldiers’ horses had thrown. What we didn’t have among the People was iron or steel. A pair of iron horseshoes could give Cait and me what we needed most—metal knives.
When we were several miles north of where we knew the soldiers could catch us, I led Caitlin to a stream and took her wolf robe. She followed me into the cold water and I gently washed the blood from her face, hands, and chest.
Caitlin stripped off her loincloth, too. I saw blood running down her legs.
“Wolf Riding Woman, are you injured?” I asked as I bathed away the blood. It continued to flow.
“Wolf Rising, I have begun my time. I have become a woman,” she said.
“You got your period?” I said in English. She laughed.
But at the same time, she doubled up next to Ramie’s bed with a bad cramp. We couldn’t believe it when our big sister was carried up to the house with teeth-marks on her neck. The damned wolves! We swore we’d kill every one of them. But while we were sitting with Ramie and Kyle and Aubrey, the cramps hit Caitlin and she started her menses.
She admitted to discomfort in before-time, but she was a warrior. In now-time, she was a teenage girl getting her first period. Even with Ramie lying in bed, Moms made a fuss over Caitlin. The doctor had said Ramie just needed rest and fluids with the antibiotics he gave her. In both times, I treated Caitlin/Wolf Riding Woman as the princess I thought her to be. Caitlin hugged a heating pad as she sat by Ramie in now-time. In before-time, after we had bathed, she wadded some cottonwood tree fluff into her loincloth and lay beside me to sleep. We had to keep moving so we would outpace the soldiers, if they decided to pursue us. But in now-time, I went out by myself the next day and snared two rabbits. I skinned them and presented them to Caitlin. She took them to the house and Mom Mar helped her turn them into rabbit stew. I was so proud of her. It was the first meal she cooked as a woman. I suppose Mom Mar knew what was happening, but the rabbits were to honor my woman. I don’t think anyone objected, even as Caitlin spooned some of her broth into Ramie’s mouth.
Merv Longsteer came out to the house and did some medicine on Ramie. Before he left, he motioned me and Cait out to the paddock. When we were out of the sight of the house he turned to face us. He lifted a hand to touch Caitlin’s cheek and turn it back and forth. She stiffened but stood upright and returned his stare.
“Vé'otsé'e,” he said. Warpath woman. “Protect the people from danger. Do not lead them into it. Find the path that leads them to safety.” He turned his gaze on me and stood back. “Ho'néhenótȧxeo'o, Wolf Warriors, your older sister will return soon. Tread carefully. The spirits move among us and your time will come soon enough. For now, find that place where you can grow and learn. When you return, the world will have turned again.”
He turned and walked away down the long drive to the ranch. A truck was parked down there and he got in the passenger side before it left.
There was a shout from the bunkhouse and we ran to find Ramie awake. She had a strange look in her eyes and I thought she’d been away a lot longer than it seemed. She looked older to me.
“Maybe that’s what Merv and Yelloweye have been telling us. We need to find a place where we can live a long time in peace and learn while our bodies grow up,” Caitlin said. “I think I see the way.”
Trouble was waiting for us when we got back to the tribe. First was the warriors wanting to go hunt down the soldiers. That was going nowhere fast.
“The soldiers are not a threat to us. They have no horses. They will go back where they came from. Later, more soldiers will come. We have time to leave and be elsewhere before they come,” Caitlin argued in the council.
“Why do we listen to an unblooded child in our council?” Bent Bow demanded.
“I am blooded!” Cait screamed. She held up her wolf robe. “The blood on my wolf teeth is from the man whose throat I ripped out with my teeth. On that same day, my woman’s blood began to flow. I am Wolf Riding Woman. I will give counsel to the elders when what I have seen must be brought to their eyes. And I have seen a path we must trod.”
“A full woman?” Bent Bow asked. “Then I will take you as my wife. The animal talker can find a wife when he becomes a man.” The warrior made the mistake of laying a hand on Caitlin to claim her. The long blade of her obsidian knife ran up his middle causing him to jump back. A thin rivulet of blood seeped from the scratch. Cait followed it by scoring him from side to side before he could respond.
“Touch me again and I will flay the skin from your bones to make another robe,” she growled. “My knife has tasted the blood of whiteman and of redman. It knows no difference.”
Bent Bow howled and ran out of the council tent. We knew we would never be safe with him around.
“What is your plan, Wolf Riding Woman?” the wise woman asked.
“Honored Grandmother,” Cait said. “Wolf Rising and I have been shown a path to a hunting ground of plenty. The buffalo are strong. The elk are abundant. Even trees bear food for our people. There we can dwell and whiteman will not hunt us.”
“Where is this wonderful land of plenty with no whiteman?” an old man asked.
“It is on the path that Yelloweye will show us. We need only follow him,” she answered.
Caitlin: Other Where
My man praises me. I sound like a swelled headed little brat.
But it was true. What I’d seen when Ramie came back was that it was possible to go someplace to live a long time and have as little or as much time go by elsewhere as was desired. Yelloweye would show us the way.
That night, the tribe gathered at the fire. We sang and beat on little drums as we danced a dance to the old owl. I believe the old men thought we would simply die. That was the meaning of the owl. To follow the owl meant that we would pass into the hereafter and be gone from this earth. Perhaps it was true. We’d go to some happy hunting ground. I thought of it more as an alternative universe. It was Oxėse, other place—our world without the invasion of the Europeans. There was plenty of game. We could follow normal migration patterns without having to go around towns that grew up in our path.
In the morning, they were surprised to find that we were all still alive. We packed our tents and skins on travois behind our horses and walked toward the mountains. It was three days to the passage that Yelloweye showed us. It was narrow, but Wolf Rising and I held hands as the People passed us. Then our two horses and their burdens passed.
Down the trail, we could see Bent Bow tracking us, his arrow ready to fly. We were standing right in the middle of the path, but he didn’t seem to see us. I pulled Phile through the passage. Yelloweye swooped through right behind us.
Bent Bow was running toward the standing stones, pulling his bow as he came. He passed between the rocks and disappeared.
“Where did he go?” Phile asked.
“I don’t think he went anywhere,” I said. Yelloweye landed on a branch nearby and hooted at us. “It’s we who disappeared. The best Bent Bow will be able to discover is that the tracks he has been following vanished.”
The People did not even realize they had passed through a time change or world gate of any sort. Oxėse was, as far as we could tell, the same as what we left. Yelloweye soothed our concerns. We were in a different version of our reality. One day, perhaps the realities would merge again and it would all be the same as if we had never left. In this reality, there were no soldiers, no whites. The people took care of the land and the land took care of the people.
We made camp at the fork of a river that looked much like the fields we knew on the ranch, but without fences or houses. When the fire was lit, we were summoned to the council. We donned our wolf skins and sat with the elders.
“Wolf Twins,” the wise woman said. “We would know how far we must journey and when we will be safe.”
“We are safe,” I said. “We have journeyed to a place that Heove-'éxané prepared for us. He is here with us and has spread his wings to protect his people.” Right on cue, the old owl lit next to me on the log where Phile and I sat. There was a gasp from the council. They had heard that we speak with animals and that the owl was our special totem. But there was so much superstition about owls in the tribe that it was hard to accept the bird’s presence without assuming it meant my imminent death. The owl had appeared the night Phile was born, after all, and his mother died giving him life. He had sat on our tipi when the soldiers came and took my mother. Now he sat beside me.
“We are honored by your grandsire’s presence,” the wise woman said hesitantly. “Thank you for leading us to a place where we are safe from the white soldiers. Thank you for giving us your speakers and showing them the footsteps we should tread. Thank you for looking favorably on your people.” She nodded to our chief, a man as old as she.
“Henceforth we will be Méstaa'e-vo'Ä—staneme, the People Who Follow the Owl,” the old man said. “This old man shall continue his journey with the owl tonight and his spirit will watch over the people as they camp here by the laughing waters. The son of Buffalo Woman, Running Fox, will lead us where we must go in the future. He will listen to the voices of the wolf and the owl. Wolf Riding Woman and Wolf Rising, you will be welcome when you visit our people, but you must not dwell with us. There are not enough of us for frequent visits by Heove-'éxané.”
With that, the old man retired to his tent. We knew we would never see him again.
The Family
Ashley had bolted from the room in the middle of the reading and they heard her throwing up in the bathroom. She returned with a wet washcloth held against her eyes and her wife cuddled her close while Cole continued to read. They all understood the necessity for Caitlin to kill the scout. They were sad that their little girl had been forced to the action at such a young age. But Ashley’s daughter had done more than kill. She had ripped the man’s throat out with her teeth.
When Cole finally put the papers down, Ashley curled up in his lap while he stroked her hair. Though fading, slightly, that hair was still golden enough to remind them all of Caitlin. Kyle had never seen his normally dominant mother look so small and vulnerable as Mary Beth joined her mates on the arm of the big chair.
Cole had kept reading so that the image of raiding the soldiers would not be the last thing the family remembered from the evening. Their children had led the People to a place of safety. Perhaps they were ready for a gentler chapter in their lives.
Ramie reflexively felt the faded scars on her neck. She’d been that close to having a wolf rip her own throat out. It had happened at the same time Caitlin was killing the scout. Miranda, inside her, felt the rawness of her throat from when the berserk girl she’d rescued tried to strangle her and the tongue of the great gray wolf that soothed her injury. Jason and Kyle knew the effect that losing their horses would have on the cavalry company. And what finding the scout would do to their fragile discipline.
The family crept to bed quietly, whispers of ‘goodnight’ sounding impossibly loud.
“This story is going to tear the family apart,” Aubrey whispered as we put the babies to bed.
“What do you want us to do? Stop reading about what happened to my baby brother and sister?” Ramie snapped at her. Aubrey looked at her with tears flowing from her eyes. “Oh, my God! It started! I’m so sorry, Aubrey. Don’t let me snap at you, my beloved. What will we do? What can we do?”
“Laramie Wyoming Bell, my love and my wife, love me like you have never done before. And I promise I will do the same for you.”
“We should stop reading the journal.”
“My love, it’s too late. The cat is out of the bag. Or in this case, the box. Think. We lived with those two kids next to us for six years. They were the hardest workers on this ranch. You’ve had to hire four people to do what those two did. Even the horses are less settled since they left. We know what kind of people they are. They aren’t the kind to do things like gutting a rapist or shooting a woman in the street,” Aubrey said, reminding Ramie of what she, herself, had done when traveling back into Miranda’s body.
Ramie kissed her lover passionately.
“That’s exactly what we need to be reminded of! Thank you! I am going to bury my face between your legs tonight if I can nudge Kyle out of the way,” Ramie said. “But first I have to go talk to Moms and Pa.” Ramie went to put on her buckskins. Miranda started to object was put firmly down. “You know I got to do this, Miranda,” she said.
I do, Demon Ramie. I just dread it.
Ramie strapped her Colt Navy around her hips and headed to her parents.
“Moms! Pa! We need to talk!” she shouted. Her parents came into the room, all wearing robes as they had been ready for bed. “Strap your irons on, Pa,” Ramie commanded. Cole nodded and retrieved his Smith & Wessons from the study. He shared the office with Ramie now. She managed the horse ranch and he managed the cattle ranch. He was thinking maybe he should give up the cattle business. He arrived on the front porch where Ramie, Ashley, and Mary Beth were waiting. Kyle strode across the lawn carrying his Winchester. They waited for him to join them on the porch. Ramie pulled Mary Beth and Ashley in front of them.
“Look out there, Moms,” Ramie said. She saw Cole pull his guns from their holsters and point to the places in the yard where, when he was time traveling, he’d killed five men. “Five men Pa killed, right out there,” Ramie said. She pulled the Colt Navy from its holster and her knife from her boot. “I gutted one rapist and cut the throats of two others. I shot a woman down on the streets of Laramie with this gun.”
Jason spoke through Kyle’s voice.
“Old men. Women. Children. They thought they were safe because they stood beneath an American flag. But we cut them down,” Jason said. “We were frightened boys who believed the Indians were lying in ambush for us and we’d surprised them.”
“You don’t hate me, Mom Mar. You never had anything but care and concern for Kyle, Mom Ash. You both love Pa and he never regretted saving his family that night here on the lawn,” Ramie said. “You can’t hate Caitlin! You can’t be disappointed in her. She lived in two different worlds and did what was necessary in each of them. She protected her family. Don’t turn your backs on her—or on Phile when you find out what he’s done. Phile’s a different kind of warrior. He was never as aggressive as Caitlin. But I guarandamntee you, we’re going to find out he was a warrior. Trust your kids. Trust our family. Trust the land.” Ramie was weeping and Mary Beth pulled her daughter to her as Ashley threw herself at Kyle/Jason.
“Don’t ever doubt how much we love you,” Ashley said. “I never time traveled, but I held a rifle at the ready to defend this piece of heaven during the range wars. I hoped it was over for us. It hurts so much to see what my daughters and my sons have suffered. I love you so much, I can’t help but cry.”
“And you, Ramie,” Mary Beth said. “When I heard you tell about defending Miranda, I wanted to die. Not because I was ashamed of you, but because you went through what you did. Your siblings. Your mates. Your children. You are the most important things in the world to me.”
“We are a family,” Cole said. “We are tied to the land through generations of blood. We will stay together and defend the land and defend our own.” He pulled all four of the others into his embrace and then stepped back. “Where’s Aubrey?”
“Somebody had to stay with the babies,” Ramie said.
“Then we need to go to them. I need to hold my other daughter and kiss my grandchildren,” Cole said.
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