“And that’s what’s driving me loco,” he admitted grudgingly. He reached out, grabbed her as she tried to run past, and dragged her to him. She struggled to break free as his big arms enveloped her, pulling her hard against his wide chest. His mouth covered hers and she gasped at the sensation. As she opened her lips, his tongue forced its way inside.
He was an enemy. But she couldn’t stop her body from molding itself against him all the way down their legs. His manhood throbbed hard against her belly and her nipples came erect at the touch of his chest against them.
“Star Eyes, oh, Star Eyes . . .” His mouth was hot as a comet’s trail as he kissed her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes.
Without even thinking, she slipped her arms around his sinewy neck and clung to him, shaking with sobs. He was big and strong and he wanted her. He was safety and protection. More than that, her body wanted him. She could feel the sudden heat and moisture between her thighs as she pressed against his maleness.
She couldn’t pull out of his arms if she tried–he held her too tightly. His tongue forced itself deeper into her mouth, teasing and tantalizing her senses. The heat and the scent and the taste of him, everything about him said “stallion.” His big, wide hands stroked her back and began to pull at her dress.
She could taste her own tears as he kissed her. This could not be. She was no common whore or squaw to be thrown down on the hay of the barn. She must stop him. But instead, her breasts pressed hard against his hand as his fingers pushed the top of her dress down and closed over the nipple.
She couldn’t stifle the audible sigh of pleasure when he stroked there. She found herself running the tip of her tongue along the corners of his mouth, lost in the masculine taste and feel and scent of him.
With his great strength, he lifted her up so that his mouth could close over most of her breast, the tip of his tongue running over her throbbing nipple. His mouth was hot and wet sucking there, making her tremble with desire.
In that instant, she wanted nothing more than to lie down on the soft hay, pull him on top of her, and let him tear away the yellow dress and plunge deep into her body. Would it hurt when he broke through the thin silk barrier of her virginity and made her his woman? Would it be ecstasy when his maleness throbbed deep inside her, his virile seed pumping forth from this stallion of a man?
A Pawnee stallion. Was she out of her mind? All she had to offer a future husband was the prize of her virginity, and virginity was very important to the Cheyenne; so much so that they sometimes kept chastity belts on their unmarried women. There was no future for her with an enemy male, and no Cheyenne brave would want her if she gave away the most highly prized treasure a woman could offer a man.
In that split second, as he kissed and caressed her, she saw her mother’s face in her mind as Sunrise Woman must have been at Luci’s age. Had she, too, succumbed to a moment’s passion in some dark barn and ruined her life forever? Luci would not make the same mistake.
Breathlessly, fighting to control her passions, she broke free of him. “You damned Pawnee! Everywhere I turn, you’re right there, trailing after me like a stallion trying to take a mare!”
“You want me, too, don’t deny it!” He was shaking; she could see his wide shoulders trembling in the moonlight.
“Not a Pawnee! Never a Pawnee!” With a sob, she brushed past him and ran out of the barn. He called after her, but she didn’t look back as she ran to her quarters. Inside, she slammed the door, slid the bolt, leaned against the door, gasping for air.
Her body was her own worst enemy. When that giant of a man took her in his arms, jerking her against his throbbing maleness, it forgot that she must use her virginity to get herself a husband who would look after her, and cherish her. She was too clever to do as her mother had done–to waste herself on some man who only wanted a female vessel to contain the seed of his lust, never mind who.
Sooner or later, if she stayed on this post, that scout was going to corner her somewhere and take her. She had seen the hunger in his dark eyes. But when she leaned against the door and thought of him, all she could remember was the taste of him, the white-hot heat of his mouth pulling at her nipple. Or was she really afraid of her own hungers and desires?
With a sigh, she took off the yellow dress, glanced at it to make sure it wasn’t torn or soiled, then hung it up. What was she going to do? She sat on her bunk, thinking about it for the next hour. There was no other alternative–she had to leave this fort whether she went to Denver as Winnifred Starrett’s maid or returned to the Cheyenne and tried to live as one of them.
She heard the jingle of the sleigh outside and then Winnifred’s voice and the major’s as he escorted her to her door. The white beauty came in, humming a dance tune. “My, hat a perfectly delightful party!” She smiled at Luci. “So here you are. I wondered what became of you. When I looked around, you were gone.”
Was that smile sympathetic or malicious?
“I–I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early.”
Winnifred walked over and examined the yellow dress hanging on a door hook. With a triumphant flourish, she picked a bit of straw off the hem. “Who was he?” She looked amused.
How had that bit of straw escaped her notice? She’d been so upset. . . . “Miss Starrett, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She got up and began to help Winnifred out of the elegant pink gown.
“I don’t remember seeing Lieutenant Osgoode leave the party,” Winnifred drawled, humming under her breath as she untied the wide sash.
“Not with me. He’d had a little too much to drink,” Luci said without thinking as she hung up the gown.
“He’s such an arrogant fool,” Winnifred said, laughing. “No wonder he drank too much. He surely didn’t think I’d take him up on his dare.”
Luci paused, the dress in her hands. “What dare?”
Winnifred smiled again, “Never mind. It was just a little joke.”
There was cruelty in the amused smile, the blue eyes as bright as Luci’s own. And abruptly she saw it all with sudden clarity, remembering what Johnny Ace had hinted at. “And was I the butt of that joke?”
Winnifred shook her hair back with an annoyed gesture and took the many ribbons out. “How dare you question me? I’m the mistress here. You’re only a servant!”
Luci stared at her, aghast at the realization. “You encouraged me to go to that party as a joke, laughing at me behind my back? I wouldn’t have done such a cruel thing to my worst enemy!” She was so stunned, she could only stare in horror at the elegant beauty. She had a sudden urge to grab Winnifred by her beautiful black hair and give her a good shaking.
“Worst enemy? Why you Injun slut, how dare you call me on the carpet like my mother scolding a slave girl! You dark-skinned sluts lead men on, making them do things they’d never dream of doing! Bewitch them, that’s what you do! Dark Jezebels!” Winnifred flung herself down on her cot in a storm of weeping.
Luci looked down at her, feeling deep pity for the girl and wondering what this fury hid. “I’m sorry for you, Winnifred, really sorry for you.”
“Well, don’t be!” Winnifred sat up, her red-streaked eyes blazing. “I’ll not have some dark-skinned whore pitying me! I’m going to have my revenge at last, do you hear? I’ve waited a long time to get even with my father for what he did to my mother!”
Luci shook her head, bewildered, feeling deep pity and loathing for the beautiful girl. “If you hate him so much, why are you going to care for him?”
“Because as his only relative. I’m his heir.” Winnifred smiled with grim satisfaction through her tears. “He wants me to come look after him so he won’t end up in a mad house at the end.”
“A madhouse? That’s very admirable of you–”
“Admirable!” Winnifred sneered. “First chance I get, I’ll put him away and enjoy all his lovely money! He owes it to me and Mother for everything he did! He only married her for her money, and when it was gone. . . .” She dabbed at her eyes and smirked. “W
ith the Starrett fortune, I can do anything I want, have any man I want. I’ll be the glamorous queen of Denver society!”
Luci backed away from her, slowly shaking her head. “I feel sorry for you, Winnifred. When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful, the most perfect thing I’d ever seen, not realizing you’re twisted inside! I think you’ll regret your decision. As I said, I pity you.”
“How dare you pity me!” Winnifred scrambled off her bed and stood glaring down at the shorter girl, who held her ground with spunk. “How dare a dark-skinned Jezebel pity me! I’m going to have it all, y’all hear? I’ll have money and power and any man I want.”
“I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for,” Luci said softly, reaching for her plain cotton dress and her moccasins. “I should have listened to Johnny–”
“Is that who you were in the barn with?” The other girl’s eyes flashed jealously. “He’s just playing with you, you know. I’ve offered him a chance to work for me in Denver, and I think he’s going to take it.”
Luci blinked, speechless. “Johnny Ace is an enemy of my people. I don’t care what he does.” But inside, something hurt and burned. He was like the other men after all, saying mere words of love. How close Luci had been to making the same mistake as her foolish mother!
“And you, you Injun slut, you’ll never get to lie with him again!” two
Luci lost control. She slapped Winnifred Starrett so hard, the girl’s head snapped back. Then clutching her clothes, Luci ran out into the night.
It was late and the fort was quiet. Thank all the spirits for that! Luci thought as she ran barefooted across the snowy, muddy ground. There was no one to turn and look at her curiously as she fled in her chemise.
Where to go and what to do? There wasn’t a soul at the fort she could turn to for help. That damned Pawnee had acted as if he were concerned for her, but he wanted only to seduce her before he went away to Denver with Winnifred.
She must at least get dressed before someone saw her. Shivering, she slipped into the barn, and put on her dress and moccasins. Although the spring night had warmed and much of the snow had melted, still she shivered without a coat.
What was she going to do? Katis whinnied and she went over to his stall, scratched his ears, and thought about it. The horse nuzzled her hand. “Good boy! You’re too good a horse to belong to some rotten Pawnee! What a good gift you would make for my uncle.”
By tomorrow, the whole fort might know about the joke of the ignorant and naive Indian girl invited to the officers’ party. Luci winced as she thought of people laughing at her. If nothing else, she was proud. There wasn’t any future for her here at the fort. She studied her reddened hands. She’d spend the rest of her life doing laundry. Sooner or later, some soldier would force himself on her and she’d be just like her mother. Poor Sunrise. Tears started, but Luci blinked them back.
Would the big Pawnee really go to Denver with Winnifred? The white girl would probably have him drive her carriage . . . and slip into her bed at night. Johnny Ace didn’t seem like the kind of man who could be kept as a pet that way. But who knew what to expect from a Pawnee?
She stroked the horse absently. What was she going to do? The horse nibbled at her fingers. A plan began to form in her mind. No, she couldn’t do that, even to a hated Pawnee enemy. Then she thought of Johnny trying to seduce her while, all the time, he was making plans to go off to Denver with Winnifred. Good enough for him!
“Good boy, Katis,” she crooned, “wouldn’t you rather be among the Cheyenne?”
She reached for the saddle and bridle, smiling to herself as she imagined the expression on the big Pawnee’s face when he came to the barn in the morning and found his horse had been stolen.
Luci thought a moment. No, not stolen. Hadn’t she heard that this horse been taken in a raid from the Cheyenne? She was just going to return it, that’s all.
Quickly she saddled and bridled the black stallion, smiling to herself at the image of Johnny Ace’s fury when he found she taken the horse almost from under his very nose and made off with it. It was something the Cheyenne were famous for. Would he come looking for her?
The thought scared her a little. She had a feeling the big scout could be dangerous when provoked too far. Well, if she was leaving, she needed a horse and she didn’t own one. And she would be safe among the Cheyenne–even Johnny Ace couldn’t ride into their camp to retrieve his horse. How glad her uncle would be to see her when she brought him a gift like this!
She led Katis out of the barn. The stallion whinnied softly and nudged her with its velvet nose. “Be quiet,” she admonished him. “You’ll wake the whole fort.”
Suppose Johnny Ace heard the horse and came to investigate? She shivered in the cool night air at the thought of facing the scout. He’d be so angry, there was no telling what he would do. If she’d had a pencil and paper, she’d have left some kind of taunting message that she was as skilled as any of her Cheyenne ancestors at stealing horses from the Pawnee.
She mounted the horse, although it was awkward in the dress. His dress. If she’d had anything else to wear, she wouldn’t take this clothing that the scout had paid for. It made her feel obligated somehow. For just a moment as she rode across the parade ground, she had a twinge of conscience, thinking about everything the Pawnee had done for her.
Luci shook her head stubbornly. He hadn’t done all those things out of kindness. It was all calculated to seduce her, make her let her guard down so he could use her to satisfy his lust. He deserved this.
She rode out to the fort’s big gates.
“Halt! Who goes there?”
Mercy! The guard. She’d forgotten about the guard. “Uh, it’s only me, Luci, you know the half-breed girl who does the laundry.”
He was a very young soldier. He came over, peered up at her in the moonlight. “Where you going in the middle of the night? And ain’t that Johnny Ace’s horse?”
“Sure it is.” Her heart pounded as she smiled down at the soldier. What would she do if he detained her? The thought of the big Pawnee’s wrath scared her a little. “I–I’m on an errand to North Platte.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Actually, it has to do with a message I need to carry for Miss Starrett. Major North said it was all right and Johnny loaned me the horse.”
The boy scratched his head uncertainly. “I don’t know about this. I think I should check with the major–”
“Wake him up in the middle of the night to question his orders?” She tried to look aghast, then shrugged casually and said, “Well, go ahead. If you can deal with him when he’s mad.”
The boy hesitated again. “I think I ought to at least check with someone.”
She shrugged again and tried to look bored. “Go ahead. Miss Starrett will be madder than a hornet if her message is delayed. But I’ll wait right here while you do whatever you have to do.”
The boy looked even more uncertain and exasperated. “I don’t really know what to do. I just got here from Rhode Island a few days ago. I know I’m supposed to keep watch for Indians and any danger from outside. No one said anything about stopping people leaving the fort, especially just an Injun girl.”
“You’re a good soldier. I’ll tell Major North how conscientious you were. So long, see you later.” She gave him a casual wave of dismissal and rode out at a slow lope. If only he knew how nervous and frightened she was. But she kept the horse to a slow pace as if she really was on a legitimate errand. What would she do if he decided to go wake Johnny Ace and check up on her story?
She trembled a little at the thought. If the young soldier thought it over, he’d wonder what kind of errand could Miss Starrett be sending her on in the middle of the night?
The only sound in the cool Nebraska night was Katis’s hooves and her own heart thumping. Behind her, she expected at any second to hear shouts as the sentry alerted someone that she had ridden out. Nothing. Evidently, the boy from Rhod
e Island had decided he didn’t want to gamble on waking anyone up to ask questions.
The whole frontier lay ahead of her, millions of virgin acres that would be wonderful for growing crops, raising beef. The whites were moving in like a great tide to take this area, every train that ran brought more of them. Even she realized that the Plains Indian’s way of life was already doomed, no matter how many treaties were written. The buffalo-hunting tribes needed millions of acres to continue their way of life, those same acres that white farmers were already planning on plowing up.
Probably before her lifetime passed, the buffalo would be gone and the proud, free people sent to reservations. There was no way to stop this tidal wave of white immigration, no matter how hard the Indians fought and protested.
The thought depressed her as she rode, Did she really want to live among her uncle’s people? She thought about Johnny Ace. Like him, she was a white man’s Indian, belonging neither in their world nor among her own people. What other choice did she have but to try? Maybe there would be a handsome Cheyenne warrior whom she could love and who would love her. Perhaps she was too pessimistic about the chances the Plains tribes had to save their way of life. She tried to hold on to that thought as she urged Katis into a gallop and took off through the snowy darkness.
Where was she going? She had no idea where to find the Dog Soldiers. She knew only that they were somewhere to the south or west in this vast wilderness. She walked Katis awhile to cool him down before she took off again through the moonlight. Come dawn, she could look for signs of unshod ponies. It occurred to her that with no food and no weapons she could be in a lot of trouble.
Suppose she got lost out here and didn’t find the Cheyenne? Maybe if she spotted a ranch, she could offer to do a little work for a meal. White man’s Indian. Yes, that’s what she was, all right. Johnny Ace’s dark, brooding face came to her mind and she remembered the feel of his strong arms around her, the taste of his kiss. White man’s Indian. They were two of a kind.
No, she shook her head. They were blood enemies. She could never be a Pawnee’s woman, not when he made his living tracking down her people for the U.S. army. Her people. Just who were her people, really?
Cheyenne Caress Page 7
