“Not now. We practice more later,” she replied impatiently in her much-improved English dialect. She had her mind on much more important matters right now. A regiment of soldiers from Fort Keogh was planning to pass through Fort Walsh today, and Meadow was determined to talk to them when they got here. Not to be deterred, Brandon sat down in a chair beside her. He would not give up on her, no matter how long it took or how much she resisted. It had taken him too long and had nearly cost him his career in the North-West Mounted Police to convince his superintendent that they should rescue this girl from the Indians. Only once did he wonder if they were doing the right thing, and that was when she had confessed how much she had truly loved the war chief, Black Horse, when they had been in Sitting Bull’s tepee, and Superintendent Walsh had graciously repeated this revelation to him. “All right then,” Brandon said as he settled back in the chair. “We’ll just enjoy our tea.” He noticed how beautiful she looked today.
