“Mercy! Why, they’re packing up to leave!” she said in a shocked whisper, “I must tell David so he can stop—”
A big hand reached up out of the darkness and caught her wrist.
“Let go of me!” She tried to fight him off, spur her horse to escape. Misty snorted and reared even as the man reached up with both hands and jerked Glory from her horse.
Misty neighed in fright and took off at a gallop. Glory’s heart pounded against her ribs as she struggled with her assailant in the darkness. If she could just catch her horse and remount, she could escape and go for help. Maybe she could scream and alert the guard at the gate, even though it was a long way from here.
She barely got a whisper of sound out before a hard hand clamped over her mouth. He was big and powerful; even in the dark, she could feel the size and power of him as he turned her so that he held her against his body with one hand under her breasts and the other over her mouth. She could feel the strength of him all down her back as he pulled her hard against him. The heat of his bare chest and the mound of his manhood pressed against her through the sheer dress. She was going to be raped or killed!
Sheer terror caused Glory to fight, clawing at her captor, trying to bite his hand. If she could pull her mouth free for an instant, she could scream and maybe the sentry—
“No, you don’t, Proud One.” He cursed under his breath as he jerked his hand away, then put it over her mouth again.
Two Arrows. It was Two Arrows; she recognized the voice. At that moment, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified, remembering the way his eyes had smoldered as he looked at her this morning and last night. In their struggles, his hand had gradually moved up to hang on to her until it was under her breasts. She felt the heat of it through her sheer blue-flowered dress.
How dare he! Even David had not dared touch her so familiarly. Now she was as indignant as she was scared. What to do?
He was too big to break away from; in fact, he could break her like a matchstick across his knee. She would have to outwit him to escape. Oh, she’d make him rue this day! Next time, she’d wield the whip and laugh when the lash cut into his back.
She forced herself to relax and go limp as if she had fainted.
“White girl?” he whispered. “Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do, but she’d decide as things played out. Mercy, suppose he carried her out under a bush and raped her?
By the great god Heammawihio, he had killed her! Two Arrows relaxed his grip a little, sick at heart. Why hadn’t he realized how soft and fragile white women were? He had been too rough with her, and maybe crushed her or broken her body. “White girl? Proud One?”
She didn’t answer, only slumped in his arms like a crushed butterfly. In alarm, he ran one hand up over her heart. It was still beating. She had fainted, he thought with relief. White women at the fort were always fainting and reaching for smelling salts according to the soldier gossip.
He became suddenly aware that in putting his hand over her heart, he was now cupping her breast. He could feel her nipple through the cotton of her bodice and her sharp intake of breath. In his mind, he imagined her naked. If this were a different night, he would be tempted to lie with her under the sand plum bushes and take her as conquering warriors of all nations availed themselves of the enemies’ women. It was a gesture of both hatred and contempt. Two Arrows had never wanted anything as much as abruptly; he wanted to lie between her satin thighs and put his mouth on that nipple. For that, Lieutenant Krueger would have him executed. The thought crossed his mind that it might be worth it.
He had not yet removed his other hand from her mouth. She had tensed and taken a sharp breath when he put his hand on her heart. Could she be pretending? White women were no doubt as good liars as their men. How much had she seen? He must not take a chance that she would go back to the fort and bring the soldiers.
It was difficult to tear a strip from the hem of her calico dress without taking his hand from her mouth, but he managed to do it. He knelt and quickly put the strip of cloth in her mouth, gagging her. At that point, she came to life, fighting and scratching again.
“Just as I thought!” he said, relieved that she was not hurt, but angry with her for her trickery. Lieutenant Krueger’s woman deserved whatever she got. Two Arrows flipped her over on her belly, put his knee on her to hold her down as she struggled to get the gag out of her mouth. She was no match for him, even though she fought like a bobcat, clawing and snarling in her throat.
“Hold still!” he commanded, but she struggled to get out from under his weight while he grabbed for her hands. Her flesh was soft under his knee. In their struggles, her dress had worked its way up so that he could see a large expanse of stockings and small riding boots.
He resisted the urge to reach down and run his fingers up the backs of those long, slim legs. Instead, he tore another strip from her dress, twisted her hands behind her back, and tied them together. How fragile her hands and wrists seemed to him. “Now,” he said, “you’re my prisoner.”
He flipped her over and swung her up in his arms as she struggled. Her dusty dress had slipped off one shoulder showing the swell of her bosom, but in the moonlight, she looked more angry than frightened. Her dark eyes gleamed with indignation and hatred, promising revenge when she could run and tell the lieutenant as she had last night. At that moment, Two Arrows hated her with a vengeance as the marks on his back throbbed and reminded him how much pain and humiliation Lieutenant Krueger’s lady had caused him.
What to do with her? He threw her over his broad shoulder like a sack of flour and strode toward the camp. She didn’t weigh much, he thought, and she was full-breasted. He could feel her nipples against his scarred, bare back. He felt his manhood tighten in sudden desire. It had been a long time since the need for a woman had had more urgency and appeal than whiskey.
She was long-legged and, that night, she wore a dress that had slid upward as he threw her across his shoulder. He had his hands on the back of her bare legs. She tried to kick at him, and, without thinking, he reached up and slapped her across the rear. “Stop that!”
She froze in abrupt surprise, and he seemed to feel the fury at his unthinkable gesture in her rigid body, but she stopped fighting. Her soft breasts pressed against his back through her thin dress. He ran his hand down the backs of her silken stockings from the backs of her thighs to her calves. Two Arrows had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted this one right now. Her skin was soft and silky, and she smelled of rose petals.
If he’d had any thoughts of changing plans, not leaving tonight, that was lost now, Two Arrows thought grimly as he strode toward the camp. There was no turning back; not when he had just handled the lieutenant’s lady so familiarly. If the Cheyenne didn’t escape tonight, no doubt Lieutenant Krueger would mete out terrible punishment tomorrow with the approval of Major Mizner. The problem was—just what in the hell was he going to do with this woman?
Glory hung limp over the savage’s massive shoulder, her black hair hanging almost to the ground, her face against his bare back as he strode through the darkness. Her breasts were pressed against his warm flesh and his hands clutched the back of her bare legs. How dare he touch her so crudely? Her fury outweighed her fear, and she tried to shake his hands from her legs. She recoiled with shock as his big hand slapped her bottom so brazenly while he ordered her to stop. Did this big, insolent savage think he was dealing with some tavern wench or Indian whore? And just what was he planning to do with her?
The way his hand stroked the backs of her legs, she knew abruptly what he must be thinking. She had a sudden image of herself sprawled under a bush with her dress shredded while this virile savage forced himself between her thighs and put his hot mouth on her nipples. With her hands tied, she would be helpless to stop his insolent touch. She could do nothing while he toyed with her until he came in a rush of hot seed in her depths.
; And if he got her with child! No doubt, this savage would do that the minute he coupled with her, unlike her weak husband, who had never managed to put a son in her belly. This savage was built like a stallion. Glory remembered only too well the feel of his hard bulge of manhood against her back as they had struggled. Of course he would rape her; she could only hope he wouldn’t kill her.
Mercy! Where was he carrying her? She must not think about what was about to happen, she must think about how to save herself. Maybe some soldier would spot Glory’s riderless mare and awaken the lieutenant to bring a patrol out to investigate. As late as it was, the chances of them finding her horse before Glory was raped and murdered were pretty slim. No, she must think of ways to save herself.
If she could just get the gag out of her mouth.... Glory rubbed her face against the scout’s muscular back, feeling the heat of his dark flesh against her face, smelling the scent of smoke and maleness.
She realized from the sudden confusion around her that he had carried her into the Indian encampment. He slid her easily from his shoulder to his arms and glared down at her, but she could see the hunger in his eyes.
She glared back at him over the gag, telling him with her own dark gaze how much she hated him and what the soldiers would do when she told them how Two Arrows had put his hands on her. Indians were coming from everywhere to see what the commotion was.
“I found her spying on us,” Two Arrows said, evidently speaking in English for her benefit.
A mutter of dismay went through the crowd. In the glowing light of the big campfire, she saw the dark, hostile faces, and she had never been so afraid. Probably all the warriors would rape her. Why hadn’t she heeded David’s command to behave like a proper lady and stay safely indoors and ride only when escorted? Now the Indians were talking in their own language, and their hostile tone told her it did not bode well for her.
Two Arrows looked down at the bound woman in his arms. He hated her for the feelings she created in him, warring with each other, hatred and desire. “What say you, Dull Knife?”
The chief looked from the girl to Little Wolf. “If we turn the woman loose, she will bring the soldiers.”
Broken Blade snorted. “Then I say we kill her to stop her mouth.”
Two Arrows clutched her protectively against his great chest. “Do we now act like the soldiers and kill helpless women and children?”
Little Wolf frowned. “If we kill her, the lieutenant will hunt us down and slay us like rabbits.”
“Perhaps we could leave her tied in a tipi,” Thin Elk suggested. “By the time the soldiers find her, we will be long gone.”
Two Arrows did not want to let her out of his embrace. She just fit the curve of his arms as if she belonged there. How could his enemy’s woman feel so right in his arms? It was revenge he hungered for, he thought. “Perhaps we could use her to protect us if we took her along.”
“What do you mean?” old Dull Knife asked.
“As long as we have Lieutenant Krueger’s woman as a hostage, the soldiers will not dare to fire on us for fear of hurting her,” Two Arrows said.
“We had hoped the soldiers would not care enough to chase us,” Broken Blade grumbled, “yet if we have his woman, you know the lieutenant will chase us to the ends of the earth rather than lose her.”
Two Arrows looked down at the helpless woman in his arms, her long black hair a tumble like a mustang filly’s mane, her dark eyes blazing back at him with anger and hatred, her sheer dress falling off one white shoulder, exposing the swell of her breasts. If she were his woman, he would pursue her captors to the ends of the earth rather than lose her. “Broken Blade speaks true,” he admitted, “but killing her would bring even more wrath from the army.”
He would not let them kill her, he realized that suddenly, even if all the council voted in favor. She was his captive, and he would not let anyone hurt her. The thought made him angry with himself all over again that a mere woman could have such power over him. It was hatred, he thought, looking down into her blazing eyes, hatred and lust. No, he could not possess her, not ever; that would bring even more vengeance down upon the people. While the soldiers mated with Indian girls often, the thought of a warrior touching a white woman brought with it terrible retribution.
“It is decided then,” Dull Knife said..“We will take this captive with us. Two Arrows, you are responsible.”
Two Arrows grinned down into the woman’s blazing eyes. “Don’t worry, Honored One, she is now my slave. I will see to it that she does not escape!”
Four
Glory looked from one to another of the Indians as she hung in Two Arrows’s arms. Obviously they were arguing over what to do with her.
All she could do was hold her breath, listening to the hostile tone of the savages’ voices, wondering what was being said. The gag tasted dry and starchy, and she could feel the heat from Two Arrows’s virile body burning through her dress as he held her against him.
Finally, after some talk, they must have reached a decision because Two Arrows threw her across his shoulder again and carried her to his horse, a big fine paint stallion and put her up on it before mounting behind her. “I just saved your life,” he said close to her ear in a mocking tone, “but since you’re white, I don’t expect you’ll appreciate it.”
Damn him to hell! She twisted her neck and glared up at him, hoping all her hate and anger showed. And to think she had pleaded his case with David, felt sorry for this Indian. She wished now David had beaten him to death!
Two Arrows pulled her up against his body. That gesture put her hands, which were still tied behind her back, up against his body. She tried to jerk away as she heard his sudden intake of breath and felt his maleness swell at her touch. He moved even closer, so that her hands were against his manhood, and there was no way she could pull away from the contact. His arms went around her and he pulled her so close that she could feel his warm breath stirring her hair. His body seemed tense, and she thought his hands trembled as he held her so closely that she could scarcely breathe.
How dare this savage touch her like this! If she could only get this gag off, she’d scream loud enough to be heard at the fort!
Abruptly, she twisted her head before he could realize what she was up to, tried to rub the gag off against his bare chest. She felt the hardness of his nipple against her face and he grabbed her head and held her face there a long moment. “Stop it, Proud One,” he demanded through clenched teeth. “Stop it before your value as a woman makes me forget your value as a hostage!”
She froze and looked up into his intense eyes. She had never seen such burning emotion in a man’s face before. It both startled and frightened her, and in that moment she hated him all the more because she was helpless in his arms and couldn’t claw or spit or even say anything cruel.
“Don’t worry,” he snarled. “I won’t do it; the lieutenant wouldn’t want you back then; not if I’d had you in my blankets.”
Would David want her back if she’d been raped by an Indian? Glory wasn’t sure. She’d heard stories about white women who’d been outraged by Indians, and how the white men didn’t want them after that.
At least, she could feel relief in realizing that of course they weren’t going to kill her; she had more value as a hostage. Oh, when David came riding to her rescue this arrogant savage would rue the day he had touched her. She gave him her most hateful glare.
“Behave yourself, Proud One,” he snapped, and jerked her close against him again, his face against her hair. She not only could feel the heat and weight of his big manhood against her bound hands, she could hear his heart beating in her ear like war drums. Her struggles had only aroused him, and it was silly for her to fight, knowing how much bigger than she he was. She’d bide her time and outwit this savage.
Glory forced herself to relax her body and settle into the muscular planes of his. The night had turned cool, and his warmth seemed to envelop her protectively.
“That’s
better,” he grunted. “You’re being smart now.” One of his hands went to rest on her thigh, the other went around her to grasp the reins.
Except for the indignity of this arrogant male holding her as if she belonged to him, she sensed that she was in no immediate danger. Around her, Indians were gathering up a few meager possessions, children and dogs running everywhere. A small girl paused in mid-stride to look up at her. Grasshopper. The child said something in an anxious tone to Two Arrows, and he shook his head, and said a few words in a soothing tone, evidently reassuring the child that Glory would be all right.
What time was it? Sometime in the middle of the night, Glory guessed as she watched the flurry of activity. Horses were hitched to travois, small sacks of dried meat and corn were tied to the few horses the Cheyenne had saddled. The horses looked as thin and tired as the people, Glory thought with pangs of conscience; these people were in a bad way.
Mercy, was she losing her mind? Here she was feeling sorry for these savages and their animals when she was their captive. No doubt somewhere along the way, when they were certain they were out of the reach of their pursuers, they would kill Glory rather than deal with a troublesome captive. Before they killed her, would all the warriors rape her?
An older woman with a lined face and gray streaks in her braided hair came looking for Grasshopper. The grandmother caught the little girl’s hand, then turned to look back at a tipi in the shadows. She wiped her eyes slowly. Why was the woman crying? Glory thought. It was only a tipi she was leaving behind.
In fact, the Indians were leaving most of the tipis in place, and they had built up big campfires. Only a little food and a few weapons and supplies were tied to the thin horses. Glory looked around. Why, there weren’t near enough horses for all these people. Just where did they think they were going and how did they think they would get there with all these children and old ones? Some of them would die doing this. The thought made her tremble.
Cheyenne Song Page 5
