Widowed Settler Abandoned With Newborn Twins Until Comanche Hunter Found Them In The Blizzard
Chapter 4
Morning arrived with temperatures even lower than the previous day, though the sky remained clear. Abigail dressed in multiple layers, bundling the twins together in the fur-lined nest of the travois Kai had prepared, explaining that keeping them together would help maintain their body heat.
“They look like little bear cubs,” Kai observed with a rare smile, checking the bindings.
They traveled steadily through the morning, Kai setting a pace Abigail could maintain, stopping frequently to check on the twins and allow her brief rests. Near midday they paused in the shelter of a rock outcropping, where Kai built a small fire, melted snow for drinking water, and warmed strips of meat.
“They are strong, your children,” Kai commented, watching Abigail feed them. “Comanche would say they have powerful spirits.”
“Their father was strong,” Abigail replied softly. “I hope they will remember him somehow, even though they never truly knew him.”
“They will know him through your stories,” Kai said. “This is how all children learn of ancestors they did not meet in life.”
By midafternoon, dark clouds had begun gathering in the west, and the wind picked up considerably. Kai increased their pace, but as light began to fade, the first snowflakes started falling. “We cannot reach the camp before this storm hits,” he announced grimly. “We must find shelter now.”
He located a stand of dense pines alongside another rocky outcropping and efficiently constructed a lean-to, clearing snow beneath it and building a small fire pit positioned to reflect heat inward while allowing smoke to escape. Inside their crude shelter, the twins lay swaddled between Abigail and Kai, the fire providing modest but crucial warmth.
“How did you become separated from your tribe before you found us?” Abigail asked, realizing she knew almost nothing about the man who now held their lives in his hands.
Kai explained his hunting expedition gone wrong, then answered her further questions about his upbringing, his father’s insistence he learn to read and write English, the particular difficulty of belonging fully to neither world. “To many white settlers, I am too Indian to trust. To some in my tribe, I am too white,” he said, poking at the fire. “But Chief Iron Cloud is wise. He sees value in understanding the ways of settlers, especially as more come to our territories each year.”
Abigail felt a wave of shame learning that the land she and Henry had settled had been Comanche hunting ground for generations before a treaty moved the tribe’s official lands farther south. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You have no reason to apologize,” Kai said firmly. “You sought a place to build a life, as all people do. The conflicts between our peoples are not of your making.”
By morning, the storm had passed, leaving a foot of fresh snow but clear skies. They pressed on, and by late afternoon reached a rise overlooking a sheltered valley where steam rose from natural springs and two dozen conical lodges stood in a rough circle, smoke curling from their peaks.
“Your people,” Abigail murmured, suddenly aware of her status as an outsider.
Riders approached — four men on horseback, faces stern and watchful — exchanging words with Kai in a language Abigail couldn’t understand before an older man with gray-streaked hair moved his horse closer and spoke in accented but clear English.
“I am Chief Iron Cloud. Kai tells me you have lost your husband and faced death in the storm. He was right to bring you here.”
“Thank you for allowing us to come,” Abigail said, inclining her head respectfully. “My children and I would not have survived without Kai’s help.”
The chief studied her face for a long moment before nodding. “The Comanche do not turn away those in need, especially not children. We will escort you to camp. Kai’s mother awaits you.”