Free Sacred Ground by Rita Karnopp

learned a long time ago."
    "Sean told me if I stopped yelling at you, I'd find I liked you.” Brett guided the young buckskin around trees and rocks, finding a trail where there was none. “He said he and Lance want to be brothers. They want to share a room. I never thought he'd do anything like this."
    "I've been thinking. If they believe we'll like each other if we spend time together chasing after them, won't they try to give us false trails and even hide from us?" She was becoming more nervous by the minute.
    "I suppose Lance is one hell of a tracker, huh?"
    "Why?” Willow snapped. “Because he's an Indian, and we all know an Indian can track a snake across a rock?"
    "Not exactly. I've seen your father work with Lance. Wouldn't surprise me if he knew every inch of the Missouri Breaks by now."
    Willow couldn't help feeling ridiculous about her outburst. "Sorry. You can't imagine the comments people make. I'm Blood Blackfeet [L1]   and, therefore, I can bead moccasins, make fry bread, and skin enough hides to make a tipi all in one day."
    "Can you?" he asked, glancing back at her.
    She read the tease in his expression and smiled. "Of course I can.”
    "I haven't been exactly fair to you either, have I?"
    "Matter-of-fact you haven't. Whatever made you believe Indian mothers don't pay much attention to their children? We let them run wild and . . ." she paused, thinking about the boys. "Maybe I should shut up. Now isn't a good time to argue this matter. Have any more dreams?"
    "Great. Time to put me on the spot, is it?" A blush crept up his neck and flushed his cheeks.
    "No, I just wondered. I'm not convinced you weren't dreaming. I just thought you ought to know that."
    "I guess it makes me feel a whole lot better. Look there." Brett swung down off Dusty. "A few snapped branches."
    "A few intentionally snapped branches. This might be funny in mid-summer, but with that front moving in, it's dangerous," she said, reaching for her jacket.
    She read the same concerns in Brett's face. They'd both lived in Montana their whole lives. They knew the storm moving in would cover the entire state in the cold white stuff by morning.
    "It'll be dark soon. We have to believe the boys are smart enough to recognize the dangers of this storm front. I’m sure Lance would know a safe cave for the night. We need to do the same."
    "It's your property, any ideas?" she asked
    Brett swung his muscular leg over his horse and pressed his Stetson down on his head. "There's an old coal mining tunnel about a mile ahead."
    She followed him, remaining silent. The thought of spending the night with Brett filled her with longing and fear. If she were honest, she'd admit it wasn't his attempts at intimacy that bothered her . . . it was her reaction to them that had her worried.
     
    * * *
     
    "I can't believe you didn't pack a flashlight," Willow shouted at him, feeling her way into the dark tunnel.
    "Why is it my fault? You could have packed one yourself." His voice echoed slightly. "The temperature must have dropped at least twenty degrees in the past half-hour. I hope the boys have a fire going."
    "Do you think they thought of stockpiling firewood for the night?" She stumbled over a rock. "Tell you what, you figure out a way to get our fire going, and I'll find some dry wood." She headed back outside the mining entrance. "We'd better take the horses inside too.”
    Brett nodded, then felt ridiculous since she couldn't see him in the dark. "Don't go far," he shouted after her, knowing full well she could take care of herself, which he found somewhat annoying. A woman should need a man to protect her. He couldn't help feeling Willow didn't need a man in her life. The thought of her and another man filled him with jealousy. He knew how ridiculous that sounded, he hardly knew her, the real her anyway.
    Using a lighter, he brought several sticks and dry leaves to a crackling fire. With care he added several more pieces of wood until he had a nice blaze