He saw the suspicion in her face.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her softly, “I promise I will not touch you.”
She hesitated, and he hated the two men who had hurt her and put that fear in her eyes.
“Hannah.” He took her hand and pulled her over next to him, threw the soft buffalo robe over her. “Lie down and go to sleep. I will keep watch.”
She lay down next to him, still shivering. He was cold, too, but he only stared into the fire and listened to it rain outside. He did not want to look at her, she was too tempting. Besides he was in love with the beautiful Olivia. He imagined the dark-haired beauty naked in their wedding bed and still she did not arouse him like the thought of Hannah did.
“You are cold,” Hannah noticed.
He shrugged. “I am a soldier and before that, a warrior. I am used to hardship.”
“I will share the buffalo robe with you,” she whispered.
“Aren’t you afraid?” He looked down at her in the dying firelight.
She seemed to consider his question. “No, for the first time with a man, I am not afraid.”
He grinned at her and slid under the robe. Her lithe body put out heat like a stove, and he realized how cold he really had been. Taking a deep breath, he put his arm under her head and pulled her closer, warming his half-naked body with hers. She stiffened and then relaxed, letting him cuddle her up against his chest so that she was protected from the cold and anyone who would hurt her.
He looked down at her small face as her eyes flickered closed. He had never felt so protective and tender toward a woman before. He had lain in many a woman’s arms, but this one was special somehow. She fit up against him as if she had been born to be his. He reached down and gently pushed the yellow hair away from her face and without thinking, brushed his lips against her temple. Again his manhood rose against her warmth and he needed her, desired her as he had never needed a woman. She’s married, he reminded himself, and her husband will be coming for her. You cannot send her back to him with your child in her belly, no matter how great your need.
Think of the beautiful Olivia, he chided himself. The dark beauty was much prettier than Hannah and an innocent virgin. If you marry Olivia, you will be proud to display her on your arm and teach her how to make love, and she will give you fine sons.
Hannah would give a man fine sons, too, Texas-born-and-bred sons, tough cowboys and Rangers and sheriffs, not the delicate, back-East civilized men who dipped snuff and wore silk cravats.
He must stop thinking like that, but as he held Hannah, close, he could think of nothing else. She radiated warmth like a small kitten, and he held her even closer as the rain poured and he lay there. Finally he dropped off into a restless sleep in which he dreamed of a small ranch and him riding up to the house and Hannah, in a blue gingham dress and a white apron, running to meet him. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, thoroughly, running his hand down the lace of her bodice to cup her breast.
He awoke, sweating and breathing hard. His hand was cupping her breast and he did not move it for a while, liking the feel of it in his palm. Her slender thighs were pressed against him and his manhood was so hard, it was painful. All he had to do was push up the doeskin shift because she wore nothing under it and he could relieve his body of this terrible need. But he had promised her and she trusted him.
With a sigh, he pulled away from her and sat up. The rain had stopped and he wondered what time it was. Silently he slipped out the teepee opening and looked around. The camp was quiet, a few campfires still shone with glowing embers. It must be near dawn. Now would come the hard part, getting out of this camp. He was sure Spider didn’t care who won the wrestling match, he wouldn’t let Colt take Hannah without a fight. He stepped out into the brush to relieve himself, then quickly took in the landscape. The horses were tied to a picket line a few hundred feet away. Rascal raised his head and nickered, and Colt took a deep breath, froze in place, afraid his horse might have awakened someone. No one moved.
He sighed and crawled back into the teepee, lay down next to Hannah. She seemed to smile in her sleep and cuddled up close to his warmth. God, he could lay here all day, holding Hannah close. That would be enough for him, just to hold her. Right now, he must forget about what he’d like to do. He had to get them out alive.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered against her ear and stroked the yellow hair.
Her eyes flickered open and she started, then seemed to recognize him and lay still. “What time is it?”
“Not far from dawn. If I can get Rascal saddled and gather up some food, can you get Grasshopper without wakin’ up the camp?”
She nodded and sat up. “He’s a good baby. He knows not to cry.”
Colt was doubtful about that. He thought of the chubby half-breed toddler. They had a much better chance of escaping the camp without trying to take the boy, but of course, it was unthinkable to leave him behind.
She looked at his blue pants with the yellow stripe. “The Comanche can see that color a long way.”
Colt nodded. “You’re right. I’ll put on these new buckskins I was given. That white doeskin can be seen a long way, too.”
She shrugged. “I can’t help that. I can’t get other clothing without taking a chance of waking everyone.”
Colt pulled on the buckskin shirt, then reached for the pants and hesitated.
“This is no time for modesty.” She frowned.
“All right then.” He stripped off the blue trousers, stood naked before her while he pulled on the buckskin pants and moccasins. “All right, let’s go then.”
She crawled over to the teepee opening and then paused and looked back. “Colt, however this turns out, I want to thank you for risking your life to try to rescue us.”
He made a dismissing gesture to hide his nervousness. “Part of my job as a soldier.”
“Nobody else came,” she reminded him.
He was embarrassed and awkward. “Will you stop yammerin’ and get Grasshopper? I’ll meet you at the horses.”
She nodded and slipped out into the darkness and he followed, taking some of the dried meat and parched corn from inside the teepee and striding toward the picket line. As he saddled Rascal in the darkness, he knew they hadn’t a prayer of getting out of this camp. He, by himself, might have a chance of escaping. All he had to do was mount up and ride out, leaving the burden of the woman and child behind.
It was tempting, but then he saw a picture in his mind of Hannah’s blue eyes, so trusting, and the cruel Spider, raping her tonight, running his dirty hands over her pale body. Colt grimaced and knew he could not betray her, even though it would have helped his chances of escaping.
Time seemed to tick by in agonizing heartbeats, and then he saw her hurrying toward him, holding a sleeping child close to her body. He wished that were his son, he thought, and then was surprised at himself.
She ran to him in the darkness, the sleepy toddler moving slightly while she shushed him.
Maybe luck was with them, Colt thought with disbelief. He lifted Hannah and her little son up on Rascal’s back and untied the mustang and a pinto horse from the picket line. Taking a deep breath, he led the horses away from the sleeping camp into the thicket of wild cedars near the creek. They might be lucky after all. Colt could hardly believe it himself as he led the horses away. Behind him, there was no hue and cry, no shouts of alarm, no dogs barking to wake everyone. They were several hundred yards away from the camp now and he looked up at Hannah and she smiled at him. They were going to escape after all.
And then Spider stepped out from behind a tree. The dim dawn light reflected off the big knife in his hand.
Colt slid to a halt, unbelieving. He heard Hannah clap her hand over her mouth to muffle a scream.
Spider stepped toward them, brandishing the knife. “So, my blood brother,” he hissed, “did you think I would actually let you ride out of here with my woman?”
“I won her fair and
square,” Colt reminded him.
“And I’m sure you have enjoyed her all night.” Spider ground his teeth. “Did you plunge over and over into Moonlight’s hot depths? Did you taste her breasts and bite those soft lips as I have done?”
“No, I am a man of honor,” Colt reminded him.
“Then you are more than a fool.” Spider spat to one side and brandished the knife. “You should have enjoyed her because she would be the last woman you ever took.”
“Spider, let us go.” Colt tried to keep his voice strong. “I am taking her away as Many Scalps promised.”
“No, you won’t take her,” Spider promised, crouching, the knife gleaming in the coming light. “And I intend to geld you, white soldier, so that you will never sire sons.”
“Spider, we are blood brothers—” Colt began.
“I know I may not kill you.” Spider grinned with yellow teeth. “But I will geld you,” he promised. “You will no longer be Young Stallion.”
Colt knew he had to do something quickly. They could not get past Spider without a fight. “If we must fight, let me put the woman in a safe place so the spooked horse won’t run away.”
Spider nodded and grinned at Hannah as Colt lifted her and her sleeping child, set them up against the base of a tree, and tied Rascal and the pinto to a limb.
“You,” Spider hissed at Hannah. “Tonight, the white man will no longer be a man and I will remind you what a real man feels like.”
Hannah shuddered. “I haven’t forgotten your cruelty.”
Colt tried to think. How was he going to deal with this? He stepped toward Spider, holding out his empty hands. “I have no weapons.”
Spider snorted. “You expect me to be fair? I will give no more thought to this than I would if I were gelding a horse. Before sunup, you will no longer be Young Stallion—you will be known as White Gelding.”
He must take him by surprise if he was to have a chance at all, Colt thought and dived toward Spider. The Comanche stepped backward and dodged as Colt tackled him, stabbed Colt’s arm and ripped downward.
Colt managed to muffle his own scream of agony as he felt the steel blade rip through the muscle and the blood spurted. He heard Hannah gasp and looked toward her. She had laid her sleeping child down and was watching from the sidelines, but there was nothing she could do to help.
He staggered from the pain and felt the warm blood running down his arm. He could smell the coppery scent of it as it dripped onto the dirt. If he didn’t disarm Spider quickly, he would soon bleed to death before he could finish this fight.
He must not kill a blood brother, his honor told him that and he must obey, even if this Comanche wasn’t willing to. He dove in, grabbed Spider’s knife hand, and they struggled for the weapon. Colt used all his strength to push Spider up against a tree trunk and slam his arm against the bark. He slammed the arm hard, trying to dislodge the knife from Spider’s grip. They locked and rolled across the ground, Spider now smeared with Colt’s blood.
Spider’s mouth was near Colt’s ear and he swore, “By the four gods of the winds, I will hang your manhood over my blankets tonight as I take the yellow-haired girl and remind her she is mine and only mine to enjoy!”
“Not if I die!” Colt promised as they meshed. He threw Spider against the tree again and the warrior dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground. Before he could retrieve it, Colt charged him again and they fought, both slippery with Colt’s scarlet blood.
Colt tripped and went down, and now Spider was on top of him, reaching for a large, jagged stone. “Now!” Spider seethed. “Now your brains spill on the ground!”
He was trying to fend the warrior off, but in his weakened condition, he was not going to be able to stop Spider from crushing his skull. Then past Spider’s shoulder, he saw a flash of white doeskin and yellow hair as Hannah bent to pick up the knife and then she loomed over Spider’s back and plunged the blade deep, again and again.
Spider made a surprised, gurgling sound and then the rock fell from his nerveless fingers. He fell and Colt scrambled out from under him. The warrior now lay jerking on the ground, the knife up to its hilt in his back, scarlet blood running everywhere.
Hannah stepped away, her mouth wide with horror. “Oh my God! I didn’t—”
“It’s okay, you saved my life.” Colt grabbed a sleeve of his shirt and tore it off. “Quick, tie my arm up before I bleed to death.”
Hannah seemed to come out of her stupor, although she was still shaking, and began tying a tourniquet around Colt’s arm. “I—I couldn’t let him kill you.”
I know.” Colt took her in his arms. “But the Comanche will think I broke a taboo and did it. If they catch us, they’ll torture me to death and maybe bury you alive in Spider’s grave.”
“My child.” She ran over and picked up the sleeping toddler.
“Here,” Colt ordered, “get mounted and let’s clear out of here before the camp awakes and they find the body.”
She just stood there seemingly hypnotized as she stared down at the bloody corpse.
Colt grabbed her and the child, carried them both, and put them on Rascal. “Here, you ride on ahead of me. I’ll stay back in case they start after us. If they catch me, you can still get away and follow the tracks back to the fort.”
“No, I can’t let you do that,” she protested, “not after you saved me—”
“Hannah, you do as I say,” he ordered in a no-nonsense tone. “Now get!” He slapped Rascal across the rump hard and the little mustang took off running down the trail.
He watched them disappear over the rise, and then he looked down at Spider. They had been boys together and had shared many adventures. Many Scalps had taught Colt to hunt and track, and he would feel betrayed, thinking Young Stallion had murdered his son. He wished he could explain, but the tribe would not give him a chance. They would kill him slowly for breaking the taboo and killing his blood brother. He must get away, if for no other reason than to make sure Hannah made it safely back to the fort.
He mounted the Comanche pinto mustang and took off at a gallop, listening to the sounds of the camp coming awake behind him. It wouldn’t be long before they found Spider’s body and then an agonizing death awaited Colt, but he didn’t intend to be caught.
Chapter 8
Colt caught up with Hannah and her son and they rode hard, knowing the Comanches would soon be looking for them.
Finally Colt yelled to her, “These horses are about tuckered out. We’re gonna have to give them a break.”
He dismounted and helped her down, reached to take the little boy from her arms. The child jabbered at him in Comanche and smiled with dark eyes and big dimples.
“Come on, little buddy.” He grinned and put Grasshopper on the ground.
The horses were lathered and blowing as the couple began to walk to cool them off. Grasshopper toddled along beside his mother.
Colt looked at her. “If they catch us, I’ll tell them I killed Spider.”
She stared at him in horror. “They’ll torture you to death for breaking the taboo.”
“But Grasshopper needs a mother, so if need be, I’ll try to delay them so you can get away.”
She shuddered. “I can’t go back. I’d rather die.”
He smiled down at the little boy. “I don’t intend we should be caught. I know a place, a small cave along a bluff on the river, if we can get that far.”
“I’m worried about you,” she said. “You look bad.”
“I’m fine,” he lied. In truth, he had lost a lot of blood from the knife wound and feared it might become infected. He knew lockjaw was a common threat on the frontier.
Soon they mounted again and kept riding.
“I’m not usin’ the usual Comanche trails,” Colt explained, “and they’ll expect me to.”
At almost noon, they came to the river and Colt pointed out low brush under the edge of the bank. “There’s a cave behind that and the brush is thick enough to hide the hors
es.”
“Won’t they be tracking us?”
Colt looked up at the sky. It had turned dark with cool winds and ominous thunder. “If we’re lucky, we’ll get another rain that’ll wash out the tracks. Indians don’t like to ride in the rain. They may camp and wait for the storm to pass before they take up the chase again.”
Little Grasshopper began to whimper for food.
“Be quiet, baby,” Hannah whispered in Comanche. “I’ll give you a few bites of bread.”
“There’s some dried meat in my knapsack,” Colt said, “and here’s my canteen.”
“You look like you could use some water and some food yourself,” she answered as she dismounted and took the canteen, then dug in his saddlebags for food.
“I’m just fine,” he lied again and licked his dry lips. He needed some food bad to give him strength, but he wanted the toddler fed worse. Grasshopper was a handsome and sturdy little boy and someday, he would grow into a fine man, a Texan.
They rode down a trail to the brush just as the rain pattered a little, making small splats in the dry dust. Colt tied up the horses under the lee of the cliff, in the brush where they wouldn’t be spotted, and took the gear and blankets into the small cave.
She looked at him as he swayed unsteadily. “Colt, you stay here with Grasshopper. I’ll go down to the river and fill the canteens.”
“Let me do it,” he protested, but she jerked the canteens from his hand.
“You look like you might faint, and then how would I get you back up the rise and into the cave as big as you are?”
“You’re right,” he said, but he didn’t like a woman having to look after him. He took Grasshopper by the hand and led him into the small cave, then held his breath, watching Hannah crouch down and move along the treacherous narrow ledges down to the water. In minutes she was back inside the cave just as the rain came down in torrents. It smelled good, he thought in a daze. Fresh rain on a dusty day always smelled so good.
She handed him a canteen. “Here, you lean back against this wall and drink some of this.”
Colt Page 11
