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Prologue

Death hovered outside the window of the ranch's main house. In time, the glass would no longer hold back the darkness of eternity and Morning Flower Woman would be swept away into the world beyond.

Thirteen-year-old Blue Fox understood this all too well, but still refused to accept his mother would die. Even as she gazed at him now, her eyes like black coals peering from hollowed sockets, he refused to believe she would leave him.

Staring at her visage, Blue Fox shivered. The thin, frail form clinging to life was but a shell of the strong woman she'd once been. He lifted a cool, wet cloth and gently wiped her brow.

"Come close to me, Blue Fox," she whispered in her native Lakota.

Blue Fox tingled with dread, but moved closer at her urging. Sour breath made bile rise in his throat. He touched her arm, the skin loose and sweaty, then jerked away as though burned.

Her fingers beckoned him closer. With every ounce of will he possessed, Blue Fox slid onto the bed facing his mother. Her skeletal arm curled around his small frame.

"I will leave you soon, Blue Fox," she rasped.

"No." His voice echoed against the emptiness of the unfamiliar room. "You'll get better. You just need more rest. And more broth. I'll get you some." He tried to get up, but she held him tight in her death grip.

"You will hear what I must say."

"You need your strength." He tried to pull away again, but she kept him where he was.

"I am beyond help, my son. The Great Spirit has chosen to take me, and I am ready. My only regret is that I must leave you." Her voice wavered. Blue Fox's throat tightened and he tried hard not to cry.

He closed his eyes and forced a happier vision of his mother into his mind. A smile lit her face and large, almond-shaped eyes sparkled in the sunlight that warmed their village. She laughed, a sound that made Blue Fox feel safe, loved. He ran into warm arms that surrounded him like a blanket, her soft whispers like a gentle breeze against his skin.

A tear slipped down his cheek and splashed to the bed linen. He opened his eyes and watched the wetness spread across the stark whiteness of the sheet like the disease ravaging his mother's body.

"You are strong, Blue Fox. I have faith you will find your place in life. You are here with Ben and Sarah because the time of our people will soon end. It may not be tomorrow or the next day, but the Lakota will not survive much longer as they have always lived. Free. Unhindered by borders or white man's laws. Of this I am certain." She paused, struggling for breath. "But you, Blue Fox, must learn to live among those who remain. The whites."

"But, ina, Mother, I don't want to live among them. I want to return to our village." Blue Fox ached with despair. He only wanted to be with his mother and her people, sharing her love and guidance.

"You do not listen, Blue Fox. Like me, the Lakota are dying. I will not allow you to die with them. That is why you are here, at White Oaks, with Ben and Sarah..."

"But I don't want to be here!" Blue Fox interrupted. "You'll get better. I know you will. You just need rest and lots of food. Then we can return to our village. Together."

"This is not to be, Blue Fox. You must accept that I will die. You will be alone, except for Ben and Sarah." She took a shuddering breath and tears slipped from her eyes.

"You must believe I know what is best for you. These are good people and I trust them with your life."

"But they're white!" he shouted, making the bed shake.

"As was your father," she reminded him.

Her words silenced him. He didn't remember his father; he was too young when he'd died. And now she, too, would leave him. All he remembered of his young life was Morning Flower Woman and the Lakota.

"But I have never been white," he whispered. "The only reason I speak their words is because you force me to."

"With good reason, as you will learn." Seconds passed before she spoke again, her voice barely a whisper. "If I could change what is to happen, Blue Fox, I would. But I cannot. Therefore, I must do what is best for you. These people will give you what the Lakota cannot. A future."

Blue Fox knew his mother had made up her mind and there'd be no changing it. They'd had this discussion many times in the last two months since their arrival at White Oaks.

Silence enveloped the room. His mother's arm protectively around him, Blue Fox wanted nothing more than to stay surrounded by her wisdom and love forever.

Her arm tightened and she sucked in a deep breath. Blue Fox closed his eyes and held his breath as he waited for her to exhale. Her body quivered and air slowly leaked from her mouth.

Blue Fox was unable to move. Unable to accept that his mother was truly dying. That she would leave him.

Breathe, he commanded in his head again and again. Seconds passed. He opened his eyes; hers were wide and brimming with tears.

"I love you, Mother," he whispered. Hot tears spilled over his cheeks.

She raised her hand high enough to caress his wet face then took another shuddering breath. Slowly, the air issued from her lungs one last time and her hand fell limp to the bed.

"Mother," Blue Fox cried. "Mother. Answer me!" He shook her, but she just stared.

Deep in his heart Blue Fox knew she'd never again say his name, never again smile or laugh. Shaking, he stared at what remained of Morning Flower Woman of the Lakota Sioux.

He slid from her grasp and off the bed. Unable to look at her unseeing eyes, he ran past Ben and Sarah who had entered the room, down the stairs and out of the house to the barn. He threw himself into a wall--pounded, kicked and yelled, his face soaked with tears.

"Why? Why? Why?" he cried over and over. He pounded whatever he came into contact with--screamed and yelled, kicked and punched until he had no energy or voice left.

Exhausted, he curled up in a pile of hay like an abandoned kitten.

"I'll never be white," he whispered. "I am Lakota."

Chapter One

"You will go back." Ben Walters' voice was controlled.

"I won't." Blue Fox crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm never going back."

"You have to. It's what your mother wanted. And we promised her we'd see that you were schooled."

"But I don't want to!" Blue Fox shouted across the front room, his voice echoing off the walls and strange furnishings. "They hate me. And I hate them right back!"

Ben's wife, Sarah, stepped forward. Her hands were twisted together and her eyes were filled with concern. "Calm down, Blue Fox. We don't want you to do something against your will, but it's what your mother wanted."

"I don't care. I won't go back. I can't!" He stomped across the room, sending up little puffs of dust from the threadbare rug covering the floorboards.

"Blue Fox." Ben took a deep breath, "You don't have a choice. As long as you live here, you will do as you're told. We promised your mother and we intend to keep that promise. No matter how much you fight or scream you will go to school. And you will learn."

Blue Fox glared at Ben--tall, lean and commanding with only a few streaks of gray in his ebony hair.

"And what if I don't?" he asked.

Ben pursed his lips, and Blue Fox saw his anger rising.

Sarah stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder. "Blue Fox," she whispered. Blue Fox's breath caught and he jerked away, unfamiliar with her touch.

"We only want what's best for you. I understand the other children were cruel today, but eventually they'll learn to accept you."

"Eventually?" Blue Fox snorted. "And how long am I supposed to listen to them call me half-breed and Injun?"

Sarah's hands shook as she plopped down in an overstuffed chair beside the fireplace. He hadn't even told them about the threats, only the children's hurtful teasing.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. And Blue Fox saw real sorrow in her face.

"But if we stick together, we can solve this problem, Blue Fox," she continued. "You must go to school. You must learn, or what will there be for you when you're grown?"

He shook his head. "I'll return to the Lakota."

"No you won't," came Ben's stern voice. "You were left in our care, and we intend to see this through. You'll go to school and that's the end of it. I'll talk with the teacher if it's necessary, but you will go back."

Blue Fox tried to speak again, but Ben cut him off. "Don't, Blue Fox. I'm through talking. You're going back. Period."

Ben stalked up the stairs. Sarah turned to Blue Fox as she stood. "We only want what's best for you, Blue Fox."

"You don't know what's best for me," he shouted, then turned and raced to his room.

Blue Fox slammed the door behind him, then flopped on his belly onto the bed. He pounded his fists into the soft mattress.

"I don't want to be here," he cried. "Why can't I be among my own people? I want to go home." He rolled onto his back and threw his arm across his face. As though suddenly in the room with him, he heard his mother's voice.

"These people can give you what the Lakota cannot, my son. A future."

He jerked upright, looked around the room and took in its sparse and unusual furnishings. A single window, lacy curtains, a small pitcher and basin on a bureau, and a picture of a man hanging on a cross on the wall.

"Mother?" Only silence. He felt like a dagger was being driven into his heart, the world closing in around him. He hated this place, hated these people, and hated most of all the children at the school.

But his mother had always taken care of him. Always known what was best for him. Could he do anything less for her now than what she asked of him as she'd died? Had asked these people to do for him?

He sighed in defeat. "Only because it was your wish, Mother, will I go back. Not because they say so." He lay back down, closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep. He dreamed of gently rolling hills, gently flowing rivers and of a happier life with Morning Flower Woman and the Lakota.

* * *

Blue Fox stepped inside the chalky-smelling, book-lined room and stopped. He took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. Slowly, two and three at a time, they turned, until twenty-one white faces stared at him. Some had eyes as wide as milk saucers, others' lips curled with disgust. But all questioned. All wondered why he'd come back.

"Half-breed." The word was whispered through the students like a soft breeze. His skin pricked, his insides constricted, and he recoiled as though rocks were hitting him, the word so bitter in his head.

The teacher pounded her stick.

"Enough!" she shouted. "There'll be no more of those names used here. It is 1869 and that kind of nonsense will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" Her dark, hard eyes swept the students, who quickly regained their composure.

"The next time I hear such language, the offending student will be paddled and their parents notified." She stared out over the sea of wide eyes and nodding heads.

"Good. Now open your spelling books to page 25."

Blue Fox took a deep breath. I don't belong here. They know it. I know it. I hate it here.

His thoughts splintered when he realized the teacher was speaking to him.

"Mr. Devlin, are you paying attention?" She called his white name, annoyance in her voice.

"He don't know how to," a boy on the other side of the room shouted.

The room erupted with laughter. Blue Fox stiffened in his seat. Even the little boy beside him had a grin on his face. He flushed with embarrassment.

The teacher rapped the stick again. Silence descended. "Mr. Devlin?"

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered. "I'm listening."

"Very well, we shall continue."

* * *

The teacher droned on for hours until, finally, she snapped her book shut and rang the lunch bell.

"Remember, Mr. Devlin, lunch is only one half hour."

He looked away and nodded, feeling even her dislike of him.

He ran outside the white schoolhouse into the warm September sunlight. Other children raced to benches, huddled together, pointed and snickered. He turned his back and walked toward a huge oak tree behind the dusty building. He sat down in its shade and ate the lunch Sarah had packed for him alone and in silence. When he finished, he watched the other children laugh and play and felt an odd stirring in his heart, but he didn't understand why.

Minutes later, the teacher rang the bell, recalling the children to their seats. Blue Fox forced himself to his feet and started back. At the door four boys waited, glaring with open hostility. One with a wide stood taller than Blue Fox. The other three seemed to hover around the bigger one like flies swarmed around buffalo.

"Half-breed," they whispered as he walked past. Their laughter exploded behind him.

He whirled, his hands clenched into fists.

"Come on, Injun. What's you gonna do? You gonna fight us all?" one of the boys goaded.

They clamored up to him, then shoved their way into the classroom. Blue Fox's chest heaved when he sat down, their taunts floating like a heavy cloud in his head: Half-breed. Injun.

The scuffing of shoes and chairs quieted and voices stilled when the teacher stepped to the front of the room again.

Blue Fox took a deep breath, willing himself to pay attention. But when he looked down at the slate board in front of him, he couldn't tell what was on it. Nothing but curved, squiggly lines that meant nothing. The teacher drew more of the same pictures on the board at the front of the room. He watched in silence, but understood nothing.

He willed himself through the remainder of the day. But when the dismissal bell rang, the teacher stopped him before he made it out the door.

"Mr. Devlin."

He turned and walked back the short aisle to her desk. He looked at the deep wrinkles in her white face, the gray knot of hair tied tightly at the nape of her neck. He stared at her hands, long and spindly, wrinkled and gnarled with age.

"I have reason to believe you cannot read," she said, snapping him from his perusal of her.

He nodded.

"Then you shall stay after school each and every day until you can at least read at the level of the younger students."

He kept staring at her hands, hands that reminded him of the birch trees by the river--white, with mottled spots all over them.

"Is that agreeable, Mr. Devlin?" He wished he didn't have to come here. He wished he were back among the Lakota. Wished his mother were still alive. But she wasn't, and no amount of wishing would change that. He nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. We'll start tomorrow after the final bell."

She gathered her belongings and swept past Blue Fox as she left the building. He turned to leave and stopped cold. There in the classroom still in her seat sat Karen, the prettiest girl in school. Golden hair curled below her shoulders and deep, blue eyes sparkled like a cloudless sky at sunrise. Eyes that watched him.

Her stare didn't waver.

Blue Fox studied her eyes, wide in their assessment of him. Her cheeks flared red, but she didn't look away.

She picked up her books, her long golden hair falling over her face to hide the small nose and full lips. But instead of walking out of the building, she walked straight toward him.

"I noticed you've been watching me." She stood so close Blue Fox could touch her. He smelled the floral scent wafting around her. Saw the swell of her small breasts beneath her blouse when she breathed. He felt as though a magnet drew his eyes to hers.

Blue Fox could feel his face burn. He looked away, knew his cheeks showed his embarrassment. Silence hung in the room for several moments, heavy like the air after a long, drenching rain. Finally, he forced himself to look up again. Her head was cocked to the side and her brows were drawn together.

"I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you." Her voice was gentle. "Would you like to walk me home?" Her eyes sparkled and her lips curled into a smile that lit her entire face.

Heat raced through Blue Fox's body. No girl had ever spoken to him, let alone the prettiest one in the class. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do.

Time stretched in front of him. Karen stared at him. Her eyes sparkled in the sunlight that streamed through the open window to her right.

"Would you like to walk with me?" she asked again.

Blue Fox was still unable to speak. He could only nod.

She hooked her arm through his elbow. A rush of excitement raced through him as they turned toward the door. She chattered words Blue Fox didn't hear as they walked to the exit. All he saw was her face.

She stopped and stepped away from him. "You haven't heard a word I've said," she pouted, her hands on her hips, her books tucked inside her elbow.

Blue Fox looked away, his face heating again.

She stared at him a few seconds, which made him even more nervous. He shuffled his feet back and forth, looked everywhere but at Karen. He looked at the empty chairs, at the pictures on the walls, even at the rows of tables where the children sat. Then he remembered they were alone in the room.

She sighed and leaned forward. She touched his arm and drew his eyes back to hers.

"Would you like to kiss me?" His heart nearly stopped. "It's all right. I'll let you."

Blue Fox felt like he'd turned to clay. He couldn't move. Just stared. She moved closer. Her books clattered to the floor. Her face grew fuzzy the closer she came until wet, soft lips brushed his. He felt her hands on his shoulders, heard her soft breath through her nose as her lips lingered.

His body grew hot and blood raced through him. He grew stiff and was horrified at his reaction to her touch. What was happening to him?

Her hands slid to his back and drew him closer. Without thinking he put his arms around her shoulders and he touched the softness of her hair that lay on her back. He closed his eyes and was overcome with desire. He pulled her closer. She whimpered, sending a rush through Blue Fox's already hot body.

She tried to pull away, tried to work her way out of his embrace, as though suddenly aware of what she was doing.

"Don't," she whispered.

But his senses had gone wild. He pulled her back to him, crushed her lips against his. She pushed at his chest, but he held tight, savoring the taste and feel of her sweet, soft lips.

Suddenly Blue Fox was spun out of her embrace like a child's top. Harvey, the big boy who'd brushed past him earlier in the day, was standing in front of him, his white face twisted with rage. Behind him were the three other boys.

"You got some nerve, Injun', puttin' your dirty lips on a white girl," Harvey drawled. His voice dripped with contempt and his finger stabbed Blue Fox in the chest with each word.

Harvey grabbed the front of Blue Fox's shirt and jerked him so his nose was only inches away from the white boy's face.

"Now, half-breed, I'm gonna put you in your place."

He shoved Blue Fox away like garbage. Blue Fox gained his balance and stepped back, his eyes darting around the room for a way to escape. To his left was the open window. If only he could reach it and dive through--

"Don't even try it," Harvey growled, jutting his chin toward the window.

Blue looked at the four boys and Karen behind them. Anger boiled in his belly.

"Go to hell." He curled his hands into fists.

He ran for the open window.

But Harvey was quick for his size. He jerked Blue to a halt halfway through the frame, holding Blue's feet as he dangled helplessly on the sill. Harvey yelled instructions to the other boys while Blue struggled to escape the clutching hands. Blue kicked and jerked his feet and legs until he managed to pull loose and fall outside.

He landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Gulping for breath, he rolled over and forced himself to his knees, then to his feet. He regained his balance and turned to run, but Harvey's boys already blocked his escape. Slowly, he straightened his back.

"Come on then, if this is what you want. Let's get it over with!" He raised both fists over his head.

The boys remained still. They waited until Harvey walked out from around the building like a strutting rooster and stopped in front of Blue.

"We don't want your kind here, Injun. This is our school and not for dirty half-breeds like you. Since you don't appear to be hearin' what we're sayin', we're gonna have to teach you a lesson, so you won't even think about comin' back. Ain't that right boys?" Harvey turned and looked at each boy individually.

The others nodded vigorously. "We don't want your kind here," one shouted.

"Go back where you belong," added another.

"Seems we're all agreed," Harvey said. "'Cept you, that is."

Blue's eyes darted from one boy to the other. Which one to take on first?

Harvey started to talk again, but Blue wasn't going to give him a chance to strike first. He rammed his shoulder into the stomach of the boy closest and knocked him to the ground, gasping for air. He whirled in time to dodge a punch by another. When the punch missed, Blue thrust out his fist and hit that boy in the face. Blood spurted from his attacker's nose. The boy scuffled away, howling in pain, clutching his bloodied face. "He broke my nose! He broke my nose!" the boy shouted over and over again.

"Damn Injun'," Blue heard behind him, a split-second before he felt a crushing blow on his back. He staggered, but managed to stay on his feet. He turned and barely ducked another punch at his head. Jerking left, he stuck out his right foot and tripped the approaching boy, who teetered sideways then fell to his knees. Not giving him a second to regain his balance, Blue kicked him in the back and sent him sprawling to the ground.

But two of the boys were up and moving again and now Harvey joined the fray. Grabbed from behind, Blue's arms were pinned behind his back. Breathing through clenched teeth, he fought with wild desperation to get free. He swung his head back and forth and kicked his feet at anyone who came near him.

"So you think you're tough, Injun'?" Harvey paced in front of Blue. "I'll show you tough."

The words had no sooner left Harvey's mouth when Blue felt as though a log was crushing his stomach. He gasped for air, gagged as he tried to fill his lungs. The boys laughed and, through the blur in his eyes, he saw Harvey square off in front of him again.

"I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget, half-breed. We don't want you here. Now you've touched a white girl. And for that you'll pay." The instant Harvey finished speaking, the next blow came. Blue's cheek exploded with pain. He felt blood surge down his face from a gash under his left eye.

Blue tried desperately to tear himself out of the boys' grip, but the pounding continued.

Finally, his arms were released and he staggered to his knees. A blow to his back sent him sprawling forward. Dust choked him. They continued to kick him on both sides and he was sure his ribs would shatter. He curled into a ball to ward off the attack, so they kicked his head. He closed his eyes. Lights flashed bright and sharp.

He heard a voice. Karen's voice. Was she trying to help him? It was too late. Darkness was coming.

"I told you I could get him alone," she said, her voice haughty with victory.

Blue managed to lift his head enough to see Karen standing in front of Harvey, her fingers caressing his face the way they had his only minutes ago.

"Yes, you did," Harvey said. "But I only asked you to get him alone. I never told you to kiss him. Why'd you kiss him? You're my girl, remember?" He grabbed her chin between his fingers.

Her lips pursed in petulance. "I only wanted to see what an Indian tasted like."

Her words pierced Blue with more shame and blinding pain than the beating he'd just received.

Through the buzzing and lights in his head, he watched her jerk back from Harvey and walk away, her skirt swinging with the sway of her hips.

Seconds later, darkness consumed him.

* * *

When Blue woke, his head was pounding and the sun sat low in the sky.

He touched his face and groaned at the pain that surged through his jaw. Blood and dirt caked his cheeks and hair. His eyes were swollen and hurt like the devil, his lower lip still bleeding and tender.

Blue leaned back against the white clapboards of the school and surveyed the schoolyard. He had no idea how long he'd been there. Looking down at his torn clothing, he grunted at the thorough job the boys had done. His trousers were ripped; raw, bloodied knees showed through. Tattered sleeves barely clung to the shirt hanging on his body and both his elbows were cut and oozed blood.

He hiked himself up against the building. Blinding pain hit him like a knife between his ribs. He moaned and hugged his chest. Steadying himself, he started forward, forcing one foot in front of the other trying to stay upright.

The world reeled and he put a hand back against the schoolhouse to keep from falling. Minutes later, one step at a time, sweat pouring in his eyes and using the wall as his support, he managed to reach the street.

He saw none of the boys. He saw only townspeople going about their business, hustling from one shop to another. Propped against the schoolhouse and in obvious need of help, he noted their uncaring expressions as they passed. Women moved from one side of the street to the other to avoid him, and children pointed, their eyes wide.

The world started to spin again. Blue leaned up against the hitching rail, tried to steady himself, but it didn't help. He couldn't breathe. Was dizzy. He grabbed at the post, tried to hold on, but neither his hands nor fingers worked.

Seconds later, he was spiraling down a long, narrow tunnel into cold blackness, unable to stop himself from falling.

* * *

Blue tried to sit up, the memory of his assault bringing him back to consciousness. Pain exploded in his brain. He grabbed his head, laid back down and tried not to cry out at the bright lights that burst like cannon fire in his head.

"Don't move so fast, Blue. You're pretty busted up," someone said.

The voice was familiar, but Blue couldn't place it. A vague form hovered over him, but he couldn't distinguish the face through his blurry eyes.

"You just be still, you hear?" the voice commanded.

"Who is it?" Blue asked.

"George. George Hawkins."

Now the voice matched the face: Hawkins, the smartest kid in school. Blue remembered how George's thick-lensed spectacles always slid down his nose and a stray lock of limp, brown hair always fell across his forehead, causing him to constantly push something up or off his face. George was quiet. He never spoke to anyone, not even the teacher unless she called on him.

"Thanks for the help," Blue said. He felt the words scratch his parched throat.

George nodded. "I know what it's like to be bullied by Harvey and his boys. Till you came, I was their favorite target."

Blue studied George. The thick glasses, his awkward appearance, and the gentle way he administered to his wounds. Blue felt a sudden kinship. George was an outsider, too. Blue tried to sit up, but pain shot like hot embers through his chest and he groaned.

"Take it easy. You could have a busted rib or two. You need to move really slow."

"Ouch! That's the truth." Blue moaned. He slowly repositioned so George could wrap his chest.

"This your room?" Blue swept the room with his hand and looked around while he tried not to grimace each time George wrapped another strip of cloth around his ribs.

Bare, whitewashed walls loomed in silence around him. George's bed, a lopsided chest-of-drawers, and a washstand were all that filled the room, adding to its bleakness. Blue felt a pang of pity for George. Even he had more than this boy did, living with people he didn't want to be with.

Blue looked up at the boy. George's face flushed red, but he threw back his shoulders and raised his chin.

"Yeah, it's mine," he answered in a strong voice. "It's not much, but it's all I got. Pa does the best he can for us, him being crippled up and all." George shoved the hair off his face, pushed up his glasses and gave Blue a crooked smile.

"Where's your ma?" Blue asked.

The boy's face clouded, but he held his back straight.

"Took off when I was a babe," he answered. "Don't you know, she just up and left when I was a tiny thing. The way Pa tells it," the boy sat down beside Blue, a mischievous smile on his face, "she took off one night with one of them cure-all elixir salesmen whose belly spilled out over the drawers of his too-tight red and black checkered suit. Pa says Ma wasn't much to look at, but she sure hitched herself up with one of the sorriest-lookin' excuses for a man he'd ever seen."

George hooted with laughter and Blue couldn't help but join him, stabbing pain and all. In that moment Blue knew, if he wanted, he could have a real friend. Someone he could trust. All he had to do was take that first step.

"I was real little when the war broke out," George continued. "While my pa was away, I played soldier every day. I slashed my sword in the air and killed all the Yanks to help him out. I won the war for him," he added wistfully.

Blue thought about George's words and how little he really knew about this society. He'd been a small boy when the war was fought, shielded from its horror by a mother who wanted him only to be safe and happy, while this boy had been at its center, wanting to kill Yanks to make his father proud. He was drawn from his musing when George spoke again.

"After Pa came back from the war, he took a fall off a horse that crippled him bad. Now we're making it the best we can."

Blue suddenly saw a reflection of himself. But in George's reflection, he saw no self-pity. The boy stood proud against what he was--the son of a cripple and a woman who'd run away from her husband and baby.

"Got any other family, besides your pa?" Blue asked to dispel the sudden silence in the room.

"Nah. Just me and Pa. It's always been just us." George shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his threadbare pants, showing a hint of his loneliness.

He turned serious eyes to Blue. "That's what I'm gonna be, don't you know? A soldier, like my pa." George's voice was solemn. "He was an officer, just like I'll be. I'm even gonna go to West Point, like he did." George pushed his glasses back up his nose then swiped at the stray lock of hair across his forehead.

Blue stared at the gangly, awkward boy in front of him. George, a soldier?

"They make a man out of you at the academy," George added, as though he'd read Blue's thoughts, his voice so full of hope Blue knew he was completely serious. "And see if I don't get there." George laughed again and Blue smiled, unable to join his laughter because of the pain in his ribs.

With his sudden good spirits Blue forgot some of his pain, both physical and emotional. He knew it was still there, but it was somehow--different. Less.

"What about you, Blue? How come you're with the Walters?"

Sudden visions of a calm, happy life raced through Blue's mind. Times he'd shared with his mother, Hihannahci Wanahca Win, Morning Flower Woman, in the Lakota Village with her people. Every day, they walked hand in hand. She taught him the ways of The People, while he chased rabbits and bugs through the lush, green countryside. He drifted among the memories.

"Blue?"

"What? Oh, sorry," Blue stammered. "What did you say?"

"I asked how come you're with the Walters?"

Blue shifted, causing a stabbing pain in his chest. He'd never confided his innermost thoughts to anyone before. But he sensed he could tell George anything.

"My ma was a Lakota Indian, but my pa was a white trapper. He found my ma after soldiers had attacked her village and destroyed it. He nursed her back to health then married her." He looked down at the gold band circling the middle finger of his left hand. He twirled it as he spoke. "This ring was my ma's wedding band. It's made from a gold nugget my pa found in the Dakota Territory."

He tried to remember his father. But no memory came.

"What happened to them?" George asked?

"My pa died when I was just a baby. Then my ma got sick. So she brought me to the Walters."

"Why them?" George asked, shoving his glasses up again.

"I guess Sarah lived with my mother's people for a while and my mother trusted her. And she had nobody else."

They lapsed into a heavy silence.

"So here we are," George said to break the stillness.

"Here we are," Blue agreed, trying to cheer up. "Guess I'd better be getting back to White Oaks or Sarah's going to send a posse out after me. I usually head straight for the ranch as soon as school's over. She'll be worried." He put his hand on his ribs. "And when she gets a good look at me, she's going to be hellfire mad." Blue shook his head and smiled, thinking about the look he was sure to see on Sarah's face.

"At least she cares about you," George said.

Blue stared into the boy's eyes and sensed deep sadness.

George helped Blue to his feet. Staggering like two drunks, his arm draped over George's shoulders, Blue felt almost giddy. They stepped through the doorway and entered the paling sunlight of early evening.

Midnight, Blue's horse, stood tethered in front of the ramshackle building George called home. The black horse snorted and swished his tail in greeting.

"Thanks." Blue jerked his head toward the animal.

"No big deal. It was the only way I could get you home." George gazed at the animal and Blue saw admiration in the other boy's eyes.

"Anyway," George continued, snapping back to what he was saying, "it was like that horse knew you needed him. He stood stock still while I hoisted you up on his back, then he followed me home like a puppy."

Blue stepped forward and stroked Midnight's nose. "He's a good friend. Ben and Sarah gave him to me when I first came to them. Up till now he's been my only friend." Blue turned to George, a questioning look on his face.

He clapped George on the shoulder. The boy's face lit up, his smile so contagious Blue found himself grinning, too.

"Thanks again for helping me out."

George's smile was almost blinding.

Blue untethered Midnight and lifted his foot into the stirrup. He groaned like an old man as he pulled into the saddle. "I'll see you in school."

"You're going back?" George shouted in disbelief.

"You bet I'm going back. And I'll keep going back, George. I won't let them beat me. All this time I've been fighting Ben and Sarah, when I should have been listening to them. Now I realize the only way I'm going to show the others is by learning." He paused and looked up at the sky. "I want to do the best I can for my mother," he added softly.

George nodded.

Blue gathered the horse's reins in his hand. Settled as comfortably as possible in the saddle, he waved good-bye to his new friend and headed Midnight toward White Oaks.

Chapter Two

Every step Midnight took jarred Blue with pain, but he found himself enjoying the smells of White Oaks as he drew closer to the ranch. Freshly plowed fields. Cattle and hay. Sarah's cooking.

He recalled George's words as he entered the yard. "At least she cares about you."

Yes, Sarah did care about him, even though he'd fought her caring since the day he'd arrived at White Oaks with his mother. But George was right. Blue now understood Ben and Sarah did care for him. He knew because he saw it in Sarah's eyes every time he turned away from her, not allowing her to give him the love she so desperately wanted him to have. When he wouldn't let Ben teach him how to ranch and instead gave him hard words and his absence. Now Blue knew. If he had let himself, he would have seen their love sooner.

Blue nodded his head. His mother was right. Sarah cared. And when she got a look at him she was gonna show him just how much. The thought warmed his blood. Sarah Walters, the woman who, to the entire town, was his aunt. But in reality she was no blood relative--only a woman who knew his mother because she'd spent a year in captivity with her people.

Now, because of George's simple words, the wall he'd built around his heart seemed to melt away. It was almost as if the beating by Harvey and his boys had been a good thing--in a cleansing sort of way.

He urged Midnight forward. He needed to get home. Now.

* * *

Blue turned Midnight into the oak-lined lane, which lead to the big white house sitting proud against the orange sky. To his right was the barn, behind it the bunkhouse, although deserted because Ben and Sarah had no ranch hands. He scanned the courtyard, noticing the well to the rear where it was handy to draw water from the back of the main house. And just up the trail was the small house recently vacated by Caleb and Prudy, the free black couple who'd moved into their own tiny farm a few miles from here.

The hinges on the front door to the main house squeaked and drew his attention. Sarah stepped out onto the porch. Even from where he was, he could tell by her wide eyes she was worried, by the way she bit her lower lip and twisted her apron. But today he allowed her concern to warm him, instead of anger him, as it had in the past.

Gathering her skirt she descended the steps. She walked slowly at first, but as Blue's battered features came into her view, she ran.

"What happened!" She grabbed Midnight's bridle and stood beside the animal, looking up at Blue.

"Nothing much." Blue tried to hold back the groan of pain as he lifted his leg over Midnight's back and dismounted.

"Nothing much! Who did this to you? Who was it?" she demanded. Her voice rose and Blue watched her blue eyes cloud with anger.

"Blue, who did this to you?"

"Some of the boys finally got to kick up their heels," he joked as he led Sarah and Midnight toward the barn. "Mostly, they kicked 'em up on me."

Sarah gasped and Blue watched her jaw move back and forth before she exploded.

"Those heathens! Bastards!"

Shocked by her outburst, Blue couldn't help but smile and allow himself to enjoy her tirade and anger on his behalf.

"By God, we're going to do something about this," she yelled.

"You can't do that!" he shouted.

"And why not?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Because it'll only make things worse. I have to handle this myself." He looked away, drew a deep breath and turned back. "I'm not a baby."

"Oh, Blue. Of course you're not, but I can't bear to see them taunt you like this."

Blue studied her face and saw the love and caring there plain for him to see. Why hadn't he seen it before?

"Besides," he added. "Something good came out of this. I made a friend."

Joy leapt into her face and his heart swelled.

"Tell me," she pulled him toward the well, "while I clean some of this blood and dirt off you."

He told her about George while she dabbed his dirty face with the hem of her skirt. He watched her face pucker and twist as his tale unfolded, as though she, too, felt his pain.

"You may not believe it, Blue, but I do understand what you've been through. How you feel alone and how you desperately want someone to be your friend."

Blue grunted. Yeah, sure she knew. Safe here in her big house with Ben. She knows, all right.

She covered his hand with hers and her warmth flowed to his heart.

"Haven't you ever wondered why your mother brought you here when she realized she was dying?"

Blue nodded. "She told me it was because you lived with the Lakota. She trusted you and Ben. She said The People trusted you, that you had even earned a name of respect from them."

Sarah snorted most unladylike. "It was a name of respect all right, but I had to live through hell to earn it." Her eyes grew glossy with her memories. Blue watched her as she spoke, her voice now quiet.

"I was brought to The People by Man-Who-Runs, your uncle, after the Lakota attacked our wagon train. When I entered the village with him, The People laughed and ridiculed me. I struggled every day just to keep my sanity. I tried to escape. Even tried to kill myself." Her voice cracked with emotion and her gaze drifted downward to where she rolled her wrists upside down to expose two thin-white scars. She raised sad eyes to Blue. "I hated your uncle and everyone in his village because I thought they'd killed Ben and kept me from going home."

Her eyes brimmed with tears, but then her face grew hard.

"It was a long time before I was accepted by The People. I had to fight for that acceptance." She paused and withdrew an oval locket from around her neck, touched it tenderly.

"It was your uncle who gave me my name of respect, after I fought three women to get back this locket that Ben had given me that I'd lost in the attack." With a faraway look she stroked the locket resting at her neck. A moment later she continued. "I became Wi Tapeta Yuha Win, Woman with Fire Like the Sun, and after that, The People accepted me."

Blue watched her expressions and realized she really did understand his feelings.

"When I finally allowed myself to feel again, I began to study and learn their ways. I came to care for your uncle. Very much. And when the army came that day at Bluewater Creek, I wanted to stay with him. He tried to send me away, but I wouldn't go. I watched, helpless, as he was gunned down by the cavalry."

A tear slipped down her cheek before she swiped it away with the back of her hand and her back straightened.

"When I returned home I was treated like I had the plague. People called me names like Indian Lover and Squaw, a vile name given to Indian women by white men." She paused again, checked Blue's arms for more cuts and bruises. "For years I struggled to be accepted among my own people. And by my own husband." Her words were as soft as the breeze that floated around them. Blue gasped, surprised by her words.

She stopped speaking and took a deep breath, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She took Blue's hands into hers.

"Do you understand what I'm saying? Sometimes acceptance must be won over a long period of time and after a great deal of pain. But when that acceptance comes, its nectar is sweeter than that of any fruit and can be savored for the rest of your life."

Blue nodded. He did understand. Now.

A smile lit Sarah's face. The stillness of the early evening enveloped them for several moments. Then Sarah jumped up and slapped her thighs.

"Come on now, let's get you inside and into some clean clothes." She grabbed Blue's hand and led him into the house.

Later that night alone in bed Blue thought about all Sarah had said and he believed he did understand what she'd told him. And when he fell asleep, amidst all his pain, a smile curled his lips.

He woke the next morning stiff and sore, but again vowed Harvey and his kind wouldn't keep him from returning to school. Although he hated the musky-smelling room filled with white children of all ages, he suddenly wanted to fulfill Morning Flower Woman's dream for him. He would learn to live in the white world. And to do that, he had to attend the white man's school.

He dressed that morning with great care, each movement causing some part of his body to ache. Dressed, he went to the kitchen and greeted his new parents. Ben had still been out on the range the previous evening when Blue rode in and hadn't seen his battered face or body.

Ben's chair scraped across the floor when he came to his feet.

"Those bastards," he said through clenched teeth.

Blue was pleased by Ben's outburst, as he had been by Sarah's, and wondered how, for so long, he'd been able to push these people from his heart. Just by looking at Ben he could see the man cared. A great deal.

Sarah touched Ben's hand. He set his chair up and eased back into it, obviously working to control his rage.

"Have some breakfast," Sarah offered.

"I'll be late," Blue answered. He grabbed his lunch bucket then turned warm eyes toward Sarah.

Sarah's eyes filled with pride. Ben stood up and stepped toward him.

"I'm proud of you, son." Ben laid his hand on Blue's shoulder. "Even though you took a beating, you're still determined to prove you have just as much right to be in that school as those other boys. You go and learn, and show them you're as good as they are. Better," he added.

Blue's chest swelled. "And I'm gonna keep going back," he said. "Again and again. I'm gonna learn as much as I can. For my mother," he added softly.

Blue left the house with new purpose in his step. He gingerly saddled Midnight and rode slowly toward school.

As he drew closer, his heart began to race and he started to sweat. He took a deep breath and reassured himself he had to go back, to prove to himself he was as good as they were. And for Morning Flower Woman, to fulfill her wish for him to learn suddenly all consuming. He wanted to learn everything he could. Why the sun rose in the east and set in the west. Why birds flew and dogs ran on all four legs. Why it rained and why it stormed. He would learn how to add, subtract and read, so no man could take advantage of him because he was unschooled.

Blue entered the schoolroom as the teacher rang the final bell. Students were headed to their seats, but the room suddenly fell silent. Blue looked around and noticed the surprised stares of Karen, Harvey and his pack, stopped in mid-stride in the middle of the room.

Blue looked at each of them and swore silently he wouldn't let them see him squirm. Searching the room, he spotted George, a grin the size of the Missouri River on his face. Blue nodded and smiled in return before he turned back to Harvey and his group. One by one they went to their seats, surprise still evident on their faces. But maybe there was something more than just surprise in their faces. Something he had never seen before.

Perhaps he would never gain their acceptance, he mused, but at least, today, he had earned their grudging respect.

Chapter Three

Every day after school Blue rode Midnight around the perimeter of the ranch, alone with his thoughts.

Six months had passed since his brush with Harvey and the boys. He'd recovered, but there were parts of him that still hurt when he moved a certain way. Sometimes lights flashed bright and quick in his head, gone as fast as they'd come, but leaving behind a painful reminder.

He repositioned himself in the saddle and stared out over White Oaks. He sucked in the warm March air. This was home. Here he had nothing to prove. Here he was loved.

Stopping at the crest of the north hill, he gazed out over the land. Spring was beginning to bloom. Buds appeared all around him. New leaves on the oaks swayed in the gentle wind and the sun was warm on his face. Birds, squirrels and rabbits darted in and out of the underbrush. To the east, he heard the lowing of cattle in the pastures. And to the south was the small pond surrounded by bushes and trees he and George would swim in when the weather warmed up.

A spiral of smoke from the kitchen chimney of the main house was visible in the distance where the barn, corrals and other outbuildings clustered around it. Blue felt safe here. Accepted, as Sarah had suggested.

Must be suppertime, he mused, his stomach and the smoke reminding him he was hungry. His mouth watered at the thought of chicken and dumplings swimming in thick gravy.

He thought about Ben.

"This will all be yours one day," Ben had told him one sunset while they overlooked the valley. He'd been stunned, but Ben had gone on to explain.

"When Sarah and I arrived here years ago, this ranch was owned by a fine elderly lady named Emma. We came to love her like a mother and she loved us like her children. Her last gift to us was this ranch."

He gazed deep into Blue's eyes. "That's why it's only fitting it should go to you, for we love you as our son."

Blue saw tears in Ben's eyes and a sense of belonging enveloped him--a belonging he hadn't felt since his mother died.

He thought of Morning Flower Woman and sighed wistfully. In her wisdom, she'd brought him to the only people she knew would care for him as their own. He knew this ranch and these people had become his heart. Here was where he belonged. White Oaks was home.

A horse snorted behind him and he turned to watch George ride up. His friend waved a hand in greeting.

Blue waved back and George reined his horse up beside him. Since their first meeting, Blue had noticed remarkable changes in his friend. He'd gone from being shy and self-conscious to confident and sure. Blue didn't want to take credit for the change, but he knew it had happened ever since they'd begun spending time together.

During school, they shared each other's company, and after school, they rode to each other's homes to spend more time together. They wrestled, rode, and played games.

They worked cattle and horses at White Oaks with Ben and helped each other with their lessons. Blue felt a bond as strong as brothers.

Today when he looked at George, he saw sadness on his friend's face.

"What's wrong?" He shifted uneasily on Midnight's back.

"Everything," George answered. "Pa's gone on a drunken binge, shouting he can't find work, that nobody will hire a washed-up, has-been, crippled soldier like him." George scanned the valley. "I told him to use some of the money he's got put away for me. But he started screaming how he wasn't going to ruin my life like his is. Seeing me go to the Point is all he lives for."

Blue remained silent. He knew George hurt, but the only thing he could do for his friend right now was listen.

"I finally got him settled down and put to bed," George continued. "But I couldn't stand the quiet. It was like the walls were laughing at me with their silence."

Blue gazed at his friend, felt his pain. Suddenly, an idea flashed into his head. He turned to George and shouted.

"Come on. You're having dinner with us!" He turned Midnight around and sent the animal racing toward the main house.

Unable to argue, George followed. They reached the courtyard several minutes later, the horses lathered and winded.

Blue jumped to the ground, threw the rein around the hitching post and raced inside, the door slamming in his wake. George dismounted and was right behind him.

"What in blazes is all the racket?" Sarah yelled from in front of the big iron stove. A smile lit her face, as it always did, when she saw them.

"Well, look who came dragging in?" she teased. "George. Blue. What's all the commotion?"

"Sarah, sit down. Please," Blue said, his heart pounding. The idea had come to him full-blown and he was too excited to wait for Ben.

"I will, I will, just give me a second." She pulled out a chair and sat down. "What's so all-fired important?"

Blue took a deep breath and plunged in. "I've asked George to stay for dinner."

"Well, that's fine, Blue. You know George is always welcome."

"But that's not all I want to ask," he continued in a rush. "I want Ben to give George's pa a job."

"What?"

"What?" George echoed. Shock registered on both Sarah's and George's faces.

"I want you to ask Ben to give Mr. Hawkins a job. He's in a bad state, Sarah. He can't find work in town and it's making it real hard on George. They could stay in the bunkhouse. Then George and I could ride to school together. We could see each other all the time."

His words flowed like a flood from his mouth, and he watched George and Sarah's expressions change from one of shock to consideration.

"Well," Sarah began, but was cut off.

"Where in the world did you come up with such a hair-brained idea as that?" George asked Blue. "You know my pa can't do heavy work. Can't hardly even sit a horse anymore. What could he do around here?"

Blue pondered the question. "Help with the garden. Sarah has so much to do in the big house, every year I see the garden get worse and worse. " He looked over at Sarah. He knew Sarah always kept the garden well tended and in good condition, but she nodded knowingly.

"You're right, Blue. Every year I have less and less time to spend in the garden. It's a lot of work. And the barn always needs cleaning and new hay. Why, I bet if we really put our minds to it, we could come up with a dozen things your pa could do."

Blue smiled, his heart bursting with love. She understood what he was trying to do and was going along whole-heartedly.

"There you go," he said to George. "A dozen things your pa could do."

One thing Blue knew, George's father wouldn't take charity. Even though he was a broken man, he still had his pride.

"Well...." George sounded skeptical.

"Come on, George. What would it hurt to ask Ben? Your pa could work and earn wages to boot. Maybe not a lot, but something for his labor. And it's better than not having anything. Right Sarah?" he asked, hopeful.

Cautiously, she nodded her head.

"There, it's settled." Blue slapped George on the back.

"Wait just a second," Sarah reminded him. "We've still got to check with Ben first. But," she leaned forward, her voice conspiratorial, "I have an in with the boss. I think he'll listen to my request."

* * *

A week later, George and his father moved into the empty bunkhouse.

Soon a regular routine took over. George and Blue rode to school together every day. They spent afternoons lazing under the shade of one of the huge oaks in the fields, their noses pressed to books, studying, each helping the other with words or equations they didn't understand.

One warm day after studying for hours, George stood up and screamed, "Enough!"

They raced to the swimming hole, pulling their clothes off as they ran, and dove into the cool water splashing and dunking each other.

Blue broke the surface and spit water out of his mouth. Slowly, he started toward his friend across the pond.

"Oh no you don't!" George laughed, paddling for the bank. "You're not going to dunk me again. And it's time for me to get even for past transgressions!" He pulled himself out of the water, turned and raised his arm above his head, his finger pointing into the air like a preacher.

"You shall not defeat me," he cried dramatically, then rushed to the bushes where they'd left their clothes.

"Now, George," Blue called, knowing what was going to happen next. "Come on, George. I'm sorry. I won't ever make you run home naked again. I swear," Blue pleaded. He knew George would never let his revenge rest with mere begging. He'd get even first. Blue paddled faster, but George had already grabbed their clothes, wadded them up in his arms, and grabbed the reins of both horses.

"Fair is fair, Blue, my boy. Farewell, dear friend. I'll see you at dinner, if you make it home before the fireflies come out!" George hooted with laughter, threw himself into the saddle and fled far enough away to dress then head for home.

Blue stood on the muddy bank. What could he expect? Fair is fair.

He sprinted home, hiding behind bushes and trees and made it to the back door before he was spotted.

Sarah screamed when she caught sight of him and ran out of the kitchen. Blue tried to hide as he raced upstairs to his room. The door slammed behind him, but not before he heard George's howl of laughter from the front porch.

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