Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 15

Sequoyah’s eyes widened as she saw Grace exit her kuugh’a the next morning with a lance strapped to her back, a knife tucked into the top cuff of her moccasins, and a gun holstered at her side.

“You are not coming to Cheveyo’s house with me?” Sequoyah asked.

Grace shook her head. “I have some hunting to do.”

Sequoyah wrinkled her nose. “You have bear grease on you?”

Grace nodded.

“But the men are gone. You are too late. You know they do not want girls along.”

“I know,” Grace said tightly. She had watched the hunters leave at dawn, moving single file into the woods. They hadn’t ridden horses, which was why Grace had decided today was the perfect day to execute her own idea. “I have other plans. If Joe comes back, let him know I borrowed his horse. I’ll be back before sunset.”

Though Sequoyah protested, Grace was adamant. She had to prove to herself and everyone else what she was capable of.

Grace set off in the opposite direction of where the warriors had gone. She didn’t want to take a chance of running into them. If they knew what she was about to do, they would stop her for sure — but if she were successful, she would know in her heart that she was ready to track down the Guiltless Gang.

Grace untethered Joe’s horse, Ash, and led him out of the enclosure. Joe had told her she was free to ride his horse whenever she wanted, but if he knew what her plans were, he wouldn’t be happy. When she had ridden deep enough into the woods, Grace tied Ash to a tree and set to work.

All morning long, she did everything as Joe had taught her. She crawled on her belly with branches in front of her to disguise herself. She lay quietly a short distance from the stream. Although she surprised several woodrats and a rabbit, she shot none of them. Grace was after larger game. Something that would prove to the village that she was a true warrior.

By afternoon, though, she was starting to become discouraged. Perhaps she’d need to settle for a rabbit after all. But just as she was ready to give up, she spotted movement in the distance. Grace crawled slowly toward it, her heart pounding so hard her chest ached. Moving over the rough, rocky ground, inch by inch, she managed to get within viewing distance.

Ugh!And smelling distance.

Javelina.

All that work for some stinky pigs? Grace had hoped for a deer or an elk, something large to drag back for a feast. But wait. Joe had said they had a small kill zone. If she could hit that and bring back one or two, that would prove she was a good hunter, wouldn’t it?

Grace pulled out her gun, steadied her arm on the ground, took aim, and fired. The javelina all jumped at the noise and scattered, as the bullet flew past the one who’d been her target.

She leaped to her feet and raced after them, finger on the trigger, hoping for a clear shot, but suddenly she tripped over a tree root and went flying. The gun soared from her hand, hit the ground, and discharged. She ducked, her heart racing, and the bullet clipped the javelina’s ear. Enraged, it turned in circles, squealing in pain.

Before she could dive for the gun, the javelina charged toward her, its tusks like spears pointed in her direction. It sped over the ground between them.

Grace froze.

She’d never reach her gun in time. Yanking the knife from her moccasin cuff, she pointed it toward the javelina as it galloped closer and closer.

Grace had never been so frightened in her life. Her heart was in her throat. Her hands were slicked with sweat. Drops beaded on her forehead and slid down her cheeks. She had to wait until the boar was close enough to strike . . . but if she timed it wrong, she was dead.