With the first light of morning, a little more than ten miles away from the Blackfoot camp, Hawk came out of his blanket, anxious to get back on the road to Helena. It had been pretty late when he led the paint gelding into Wounded Bear’s sleeping village and tied it to one of the chief’s tipi poles. He knew the supplies he had left them would last only a little while, but he thought that maybe they would enjoy them for that short time. Maybe, now that they owned a rifle, they might be able to provide meat for the tiny village. He hoped they would be wise enough to trade the pelts for more ammunition. In his heart, he hoped the village would be able to survive as free men and women, but in his mind he knew that to be highly unlikely. They would soon die if they didn’t go to the reservation, but they preferred that to living on the reservation. I can’t blame them, he thought as he saddled Rascal. He felt free to take care of the business that caused him to be this far up the Missouri River, now that he felt he had done what he could for Wounded Bear’s people. Once again, David Booth was his main target to concentrate on. And the sooner he could track down Booth and his partner, the sooner he could get back to a normal life as he knew it. There was only one priority that stood in the way of that ambition, and that was a hot breakfast at Sophie’s Diner in Helena, next to the Davis Hotel. While he tightened the cinch on his saddle, he paused to think about the attractive owner of the dining room. Sophie Hicks, he thought, and wondered if she would even give him the time of day when he showed up there again. Every time before, there had been circumstances that prompted him to leave almost as soon as he had arrived. It appeared that this visit to Helena would be no different in all likelihood. It might be better not to even go to see her until his business in Helena was finished. But he was only fifteen miles away, at best, and he was craving a good hot breakfast with eggs and biscuits that someone else fixed. He’d been living off smoked venison for too long, and now he didn’t even have any more of that. He had given all of it he had on his first day in Wounded Bear’s camp. The decision made, he climbed into the saddle and started off to strike the Helena road.

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