mingle with the women and children, sharing food from their leather pouches. The dried wild seeds, some jerked beef meat mixed with tallow, and the fruit of the yucca were consumed quickly, followed by deeper gulps of water.
Sage walked away from Leonida with his offering of food. âYou can rest for a while and then we will move onward,â he said, looking from woman to woman, then from child to child. âWe will not stop again until we are safely within the folds of the mountain.â
Leonida was deeply touched by Sageâs generosity. Everyoneâs needs were being seen to, and even the warriors seemed to have relaxed. They were more like Leonida had first seen them at the fort, standing outside their tents with their wares to trade. They did not seem like renegades at all, except that she had seen them shoot to kill and force those taken from the stagecoach into captivity.
Her stomachâs sudden growling, so loud that surely even the fish in the stream heard it, made Leonida forget everything but her hunger and her thirst. She eyed the pouch of food in Sageâs hand, and the fruit of the yucca, which looked like a short, fat banana. Her throat was so parched that she could hardly swallow. She glanced over at the stream, then went quickly to the water. Kneeling down beside it, she began scooping large handfuls of water up to her lips, and the water trickled down the back of her throat so quickly that she began to choke and gag.
Embarrassed, she rose to her feet and cleared her throat one more time. When Sage came to her with a concerned look on his face, she turned her eyes away, not wanting him to sense her feelings for him.
âYou are being foolish,â Sage said. He forced the pouch of food into her hand and then the fruit of the yucca. âI will share my food with you. You eat. Now. You have heard me say that we will not stop again until we are in the mountains. Only moments ago you had strength enough for both you and the child. Later, after much more travel, you will see that because you did not eat when told to, you will have to depend on someone elseâs strength, as did the child yours.â
He leaned down, closer to her face. âI would be more than glad to lend you a helping hand should you need it,â he said softly. âBut would you accept it as readily as the child accepted help from you? I doubt it. Your trust in me is gone. Is it not?â
âHow could I trust you now, after what you did?â Leonida said, eyeing the pouch hungrily. She looked slowly up at Sage. âYou injured the soldiers. Isnât that reason enough not to trust you?â
âDid you not notice that none of the soldiers were mortally wounded?â Sage said stiffly. âThe aim of Sage and his warriors is accurate. Had I wanted dead soldiers, they would be dead. I chose not to kill, only to maim.â
Leonidaâs mouth opened in a gasp; now she realized that it was true. None of the soldiers had been killed.
Sage continued before she could offer a response. âAnd you know that I would never hurt you,â he said. âTrust me, Leonida. What I have done is the only way for the Navaho. My peopleâs future is dim because of Kit Carson and the other white leaders. They would not listen to reason peacefully. I was forced into using means other than that which my father taught me. He was a peaceful Navaho. So was I until today. This is the first time Sage has ever lifted a firearm against the white pony soldiers. I hope it will be the last.â
âHow can you expect it to be the last time, when you know that the soldiers are even now hunting for you?â Leonida asked. âSage, no matter what you say, I cannot condone what you have done today.â
Sage took her by an elbow and urged her to sit beside the stream. âIn time, you will follow my reasoning for everything,â he said. He nodded toward the food pouch. âOpen. Let us share