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enveloped his senses, reminding him of spring flowers.
    To pass the long hours, he trained his mind and ears on the sounds coming from the forest. A pack of wolves roamed nearby. They had found the hiding place of a newborn elk calf, and announced their victorious hunt with gleeful barks and several howls. He’d heard the mother elk’s bleating calls after the wolves made their kill. These sounds were familiar to him, comforting. They told him everything was as it should be in his world. What wasn’t familiar was the steady breathing and soft moans coming from the woman pressed up next to him.
    Before the first light of dawn, Daniel finally forced himself away. He stared down at her in the dawning light, wondering again, as he had all night, where she could have come from.
    The sun had barely risen, and he and Elk Runner busied themselves cutting trees and saplings, making a travois for Aimee to ride on that he would drag behind him. It was the most practical way to get her to his cabin if she couldn’t walk. He remained sullen and quiet as he worked, his movements more forceful than necessary. Why did this woman evoke such strong emotions in him? His dark mood did not escape Elk Runner.
    “This woman has taken root in your mind,” Elk Runner taunted.  “And you liked sharing her blanket.” Daniel grunted, unwilling to be baited by his brother, who clearly enjoyed his discomfort.
    “This travois is done.” Elk Runner tied the last bit of twine to secure some branches together. “I will go now and find out if she is being followed. I will return to your cabin when I know more.” After a moment’s pause, he added, “You found her, White Wolf.  You should keep her as your wife.”
    “It is not the white man’s way,” Daniel said between clenched teeth. “And you know I do not want a wife.”
    Elk Runner grinned. Daniel flung a tree branch at him, which he dodged skillfully. Laughing loudly, he turned and disappeared into the forest.
    Alone with the sleeping woman by the fire, Daniel packed the leftover meat, and checked his rifle out of habit. With nothing else to do, he sat on a log and studied her yet again. He couldn’t get his fill of watching her. She looked beautiful, even with her disheveled hair and dirty face. Was her hair an even lighter shade of yellow if she washed the dirt out of it?  Without a doubt she could use a bath. He should take her to one of the many hot water pools in the area. It would soothe her bruised body as well as get her clean. He knew which pools were safe to bathe in, and which ones would boil a man in an instant if he fell in.
    Why are you so concerned for this woman’s comfort? His reaction was merely due to the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in months, and he certainly hadn’t set eyes on a white woman in over a year.
    ****
     
     
    Aimee stirred and slowly opened her eyes. One of her rescuers sat a short distance away, staring at her intently. She pulled herself to a sitting position, wincing at the throbbing pain in her ankle.
    “Good morning.” She yawned, and rubbed her fingers against the temples of her pounding head. She glanced up as he walked toward her. Aimee drew in a sharp breath. With her first clear look at his face, it became obvious that this man was not an Indian.  It was easy to make that mistake in the dark of night.  Although white, he could almost pass for an Indian.
    Her eyes poured over his clothing and appearance. He wore a dark-colored breechcloth and leather leggings with fringes on the sides.  His faded red flannel shirt had been poorly patched in a few places. Several leather pouches were draped around his neck, and over one broad shoulder dangled a powder horn made from the horn of a mountain sheep.  A tomahawk and large hunting knife hung from the wide leather belt around his waist. He wore un-decorated leather moccasins. His raven black hair fell to his shoulders, with some unruly strands tumbling over his forehead. Aimee’s