Free Summer Moon by Jill Marie Landis Page A

higher in the last few minutes. Full daylight now shone on the boy’s face.
    Despite the dirt, perhaps because of it, his eyes appeared more brilliant blue, wide and definitely full of loathing as he stared back at them. His hair was dark, faded by the sun to red-brown in places, not unlike Kate’s own. His lips were full and pouting, his chin tipped defiantly toward them.
    “Ay, Dios mio.”
Sofia nearly dropped the amber bottle and spoon as she pressed one hand to her heart and reeled back a step. “This can’t be. . . .”
    “What is it? What’s wrong?” Kate put her hand beneath the woman’s elbow to steady her and watched, startled and uncomprehending, as the housekeeper’s eyes flooded with tears.
    “There has been so much . . . I have not been thinking clearly or I would have suspected, but . . . it
can’t
be!” She began to whisper what sounded like a prayer in Spanish and then, in a show of anger, she turned on Scrappy. “You never told me that he was white!”
    “What’s wrong?” Kate looked down at the boy who appeared more frightened by Sofia’s dramatic reaction than by either her or Scrappy. The housekeeper was staring at the child, openly crying now.
    “Daniel?”
Emotion choked Sofia’s voice. “Is it you?”
    “Daniel?”
Scrappy was visibly shaken. His eyes went huge and then scrunched into a frown as he shook his head in disbelief.
    “Who’s Daniel?” Kate asked.
    “Reed Junior’s son.” Sofia was trembling uncontrollably now. The silver teaspoon clicked against the glass medicine bottle in her hand.
    “What are you talking about? How can this be Reed’s son? Reed’s son is
dead
.”
    Sofia shook her head and wiped her eyes as she fought to collect herself.
    “His son was either killed or
stolen
by Comanches the night his mother died. We never knew for certain. Reed Junior . . . ,” Sofia could not take her eyes off the child. “I believe he preferred to think of him as . . . dead.”
    “He preferred to think of him as dead?”
    Sofia nodded slightly. “The Rangers must have found him.”
    Kate shook her head. Was the woman trying to tell her that Reed had found his long-lost son and purposely left the injured boy tied to a hitching post?
    How could Reed, wounded himself, have handled the boy on horseback? Had the child been hurt before Reed found him, or could
he
have injured the boy?
    Scrappy was mumbling something dark and unthinkable.
    “
What
did you say?” Kate hoped she had not heard him right.
    “I said this is worse than him dyin’.” He sounded grave and thoroughly convinced the boy would be better off dead than turned Comanche.
    Sofia looked at Scrappy in disdain. “Didn’t you even suspect? Who else could this be?”
    “Lil’ Daniel’s just a baby. This ain’t him.” Scrappy was horrified by the possibility that this wild boy could be Reed’s son.
    “He is not a baby now.” Sofia indicated the boy on the ground with a wave of her hand. “He was three back then. He would be eight, nearly nine now.”
    Kate listened to their exchange. More than anything else, she wondered what kind of world she had walked into. More determined than ever to help the boy, she took the sedative and spoon from Sofia, who was still dealing with her own shock and doubt and was in no condition to help. Then Kate motioned Scrappy forward and kept her voice low and even as she issued instructions to Scrappy.
    “You’ll have to hold him down while I give him the laudanum. Try not to hurt him.” Then she looked into the boy’s eyes and said, “I wish there was some other way.”
    Fast Pony wished that his shame and humiliation would kill him. Maybe if he had gotten to one of the horses, his escape would have succeeded, but after he climbed out of the stall and hit the ground, he could not raise himself high enough to open a stall and steal one.
    He wanted to scream at the pain in his ankle. It was swollen twice its size and had turned a dark, ugly color. Instead, he