Weston scrambled to his feet when she shimmied through the opening. “Alex?”
She stood and stepped into his open arms. As he folded her in his embrace she sighed into his soft wool coat. “I thought you were dead.”
“I thought you were dead.” He stepped back holding her at arm’s length. “I am sorry, Alex. I did not mean to turn you away. I never meant for you to feel any less than the desirable woman you are, I did not want to do something we would both regret.”
Looking deep into his eyes she saw the love there. “I understand.”
“I love you, Alex. If we get out of this alive, I want you to marry me.”
Tears flooded her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “I love you, too, Weston. But I cannot marry you.”
“Why? Do you not love me?” The hurt and puzzlement in his eyes pricked her soul.
“No, I do it is just...”
The teepee flap flipped open and A-jin-nay stepped into the hut. His lips pressed into a thin line, anger radiating from his every pore. He shoved Weston away and jerked Alex against him. He covered her lips with a kiss so brutally possessive that Alex’s legs shook and threatened to buckle under her. She moaned as he bit her lip and the salty taste of blood registered to her struggling mind. When he withdrew suddenly she grasped his arm to steady herself.
“So that is how it is. You are in love with a savage.” Weston ground out then turned his back.
“No, Weston! It is not what you think.” She struggled to free herself from A-jin-nay’s grip as he dragged her from the teepee and towed her toward the circle of braves. He shoved her down on the ground at Who-na-nay’s feet. The brave scowled at her then retreated to the outskirts of the circle.
Who-na-nay frowned at her. “You stop war machine?”
Wiping a hand across her bruised and bleeding lip she nodded.
“How?”
“We lure the general into the bog. The long legs of the machine will sink and render it immobile.” She demonstrated with a bit of water from his skin mixed with the ashes from the fire.
Who-na-nay nodded. “Move teepees to bog.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alex held her breath and hunkered down behind the thick row of brush between them and the fake village set up in the middle of the bog. The clang of the war machine rose over the quiet of the surrounding brush and almost leafless trees. She looked up as a snowflake drifted down on the morning breeze, shifting as icy bog mud oozed into her stiff moccasins. Would the general and his men fall for the trap they had set?
The clanging of the war machine grew louder, the brush crackled and rustled as it broke through into the clearing. Behind the machine came row upon row of soldiers on horseback. Within seconds the war machine guns began to fire matched by the horse soldiers’ muskets. Smoke clouded the clearing, blinding everyone present. Horses screamed and shouts rent the air, followed by the screech of iron and tin. The gunfire ceased and the braves moved into position around the edge of the bog surrounding the army. As the smoke began to clear Alex watched the blue coated army men fall one by one to the bows she had made. The multiple shots giving the braves the advantage in the surprise attack. Horses floundered in the mire, spilling their riders in the panic to avoid the arrows and regain their footing. The soldiers were helpless against the attack as they struggled to find purchase as the mud sucked them down.
Alex turned away from the gruesome scene as bile forced its way up her throat. She retched in the mud at her feet, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the soot. She had never wanted this. The carnage and death sickened her. Why did she build the evil machine? This was all her fault, her doing.
With determination and desperation she raced to the campfire that blazed in the center of the decoy village. Mud sucked and pulled at her legs, wrenching off her moccasins. Dropping to her knees and sobbing, she crawled to the fire’s edge and snatched a flaming stick from it. Struggling to keep the flame out of the slime, she made her way to the teepee that lay smashed under the sinking war machine. Climbing onto the stiff buffalo hide she grasped hold of the ladder and climbed to the open door of the machine. The lone soldier inside lay hunched over the controls, his scalp dangling hairless over the forward lever. Gagging she threw the flaming stick in the door, watching as it caught the dead soldier’s clothing on fire, quickly igniting the wooden interior of the machine. The machine suddenly lurched to one side, shaking her grip free of the step, and she fell into the bog at the foot of it. Mud and slime oozed over her pulling her down as the machine groaned and then toppled over slowly. The scream she tried to utter died in her throat as she covered her head with her arms. Mud splashed her as the machine landed around her. A fiery ember struck her shoulder its hot fingers burning her skin. She lay there stunned for a moment and then floundered in the mire trying to keep the devilish substance from sucking her down. A brief glimpse of daylight registered before mud oozed over her head. I am going to die.
Something grabbed her arm and began pulling. Inch by inch her head cleared the goo until finally she was able to take a deep gasping breath of air. She was dragged out from under the blistering hot machine into the smoky air of the clearing. A-jin-nay grunted as he waded through the cold muck, towing her onto solid ground.
“Ta-wan-knee?”
She blinked, looking up into his concerned eyes. “I am all right.”
He knelt beside her and cradled her in his arms. Blood, sweat, mud and soot covered him from head to toe, but he smiled at her. He glanced over her head his smile fading.
As she turned her head, struggling to sit up, there was a flash of light. A bullet whined past her ear, scant inches from her head. With a whoosh of breath A-jin-nay toppled backward. “A-jin-nay!”
Turning she spied the general on his horse, smoking gun in his hand. Without thinking she snatched up A-jin-nay’s fallen multi-arrow bow and fired it. The general pitched from his mount, landing face down in the muck as the animal panicked and bolted for the brush.
Chapter Thirty
Alex carefully wrapped the doeskin bandage around A-jin-nay’s chest. “You are lucky the bullet only grazed your side.” He did not comment, his eyes blank as Who-na-nay’s had always been.
She cleared her throat and plucked at the beads on her doeskin dress mindful to not move her singed shoulder. “Only two braves died.” She peeked at him through lowered eyelashes. His face remained neutral. “A dozen of the general’s men got away.” Still he remained silent. “I burned the war machine.” With a sigh she turned away and stared into the fire. The flames danced and popped leaving moving shadows on the smoke blackened hide walls.
“Ta-wan-knee.”
“Yes, A-jin-nay?” She kept her gaze on the fire.
“Ta-wan-knee’s heart sing when she with Wes-ton?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Ta-wan-knee’s heart cry when with A-jin-nay?”
The sorrow in his voice made her look at him. “No, in truth my body sings when you touch me, but my heart longs to be with my own people.”
He studied her silently and then slowly nodded. “Ta-wan-knee go with Wes-ton.”
“No.” She shook her head. “He will not have me now.”
His gaze was puzzled. “Why?”
Embarrassed she looked down at her hands. “I lay with you. Weston will not want a used woman.”
“A-jin-nay take first fruit, now Wes-ton not want Ta-wan-knee?”
Ignoring the shock in his voice she nodded.
He snorted. “White man have thick head, weak hearts.” Getting to his feet he shook his head and left the tent.
Alex lay down on the buffalo hide, rolling up in it to protect herself from the cold of the snowy evening. What do I do now? How things had changed, she had changed. In truth she loved both men, though in different ways. A-jin-nay loved her for being different and made her body tingle and cry out his name with a simple touch. Then there was Weston. She had loved him first. He, too, loved her for being who she w
as, but also gave her something she had always desired, to be a woman. She was torn between the desire to return to Washington where she belonged and the desire to stay here where she was accepted as a member of the tribe. There seemed no easy answer.
Frustrated, she tossed off the robe and exited the teepee, hoping a walk would clear her head. The camp was silent as she strolled between the huts, snow falling lightly from the night sky. A figure hunched by the fire caught her attention. Upon closer inspection she realized it was Who-na-nay tending the fire for the night. Slowly she approached him.
He looked up as she stepped into the circle of light. “Why Ta-wan-knee not sleep?”
“My heart is sore.”
He frowned. “Why?”
She sat beside him on the edge of his buffalo robe. With a grunt he covered her. “I love two men, and do not know what to do.”
“Hmm, heart sore.” He stared into the fire. “What A-jin-nay say?”
“He says Weston is thickheaded and weak-hearted.”
Who-na-nay chuckled then sobered. “Ta-wan-knee love white man and A-jin-nay?”
She nodded.
“Hmm.”
“I do not know what to do. I love both men for different reasons and have two different lives to choose from. I do not know which life I should choose.”
He shifted slightly beside her. “Hmm. Ta-wan-knee not want to hurt men, but must make choice or her spirit wander restless after death in the land of shadows.”
She sighed. “But who do I choose?”
He shook his head. “That for Ta-wan-knee’s heart to decide.” He stood. “Who-na-nay get more wood.”
Alex watched him walk away, her heart warring with her mind. Reluctantly she stood and headed back to the teepee. She paused and turned to the one Weston slept in. Pushing open the flap she peered inside. “Weston?”
The figure lying by the fire sat up. “Alex, are you all right?”
She stepped inside, dropping the flap behind her. “Yes, are you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Timidly, she walked to the fire. “I came to talk to you, to explain—”
“There is no need, Alex. Leave it be.”
Ignoring the raw hurt in his voice she continued. “I need to explain.”
With a loud sigh he motioned for her to sit.
She sat and fiddled with the fringes on her leggings. “When I was taken I thought you were dead. I thought no one was coming for me. A-jin-nay befriended me. He made me feel like I belonged here. I did not know by asking Who-na-nay for me I would become his...woman.” She cleared her throat as her cheeks heated, thankful that the glow of the fire would cover the telling flush. “I tried to fight my feelings for him, really I did, but his touch...”
“So you spread your legs for him because you were lonely and he was nice to you?”
The bitterness in his voice cut her to the quick. “No, I had no choice but...I fell in love with him—”
“Why are you telling me this?” He stared at her, hurt and anger freezing his face into a stiff mask.
“I am telling you this because I love you, and I need to make a choice I have no idea how to make.” Her heart ached for him to understand.
He stood up and glared at her. “So you thought to come to me?” He crossed the space between them and yanked her to her feet. “Stay with him. There, I made the choice for you. You are now guilt free.”
She stared into his eyes through her tears. “You do not mean that.”
“I do.” Anguish strained his voice. “You belong here.” His fingers tightened on her arm and then he let her go. A sob escaped her as she turned to flee, humiliated and crushed by his rejection. Before she could reach the door he yanked her back to him, buried his hands in her hair and forced her mouth to his. His savage kiss seared her very soul with its heat. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he moaned and slipped one hand down to cup her breast. Pressing herself against him she returned his kiss with frantic urgency. He pressed his arousal against her thigh, his breath coming in heaving gasps. “I love you, Alex, from the first time I saw you.”
“Oh, Weston—”
“Damn it!” He pulled away from her, running a hand through his hair. “I will not do this, Alex.”
She reached for him. “I want to. I love you.”
He turned his back on her. “Get out.”
Bewildered she shook her head, dropping her hand. “I do not understand—”
“Get out. I will not take a savage’s leftovers.” He stalked to the hide bed and lay down, putting his back to her.
Heartbroken she turned and left the teepee. The snow was coming down faster and heavier now, but she hardly noticed as she made her way down to the creek to cry alone.
Chapter Thirty-One
A-jin-nay rode tall and proud beside her through the town despite the stares and screams of women and children. For once Alex was glad the attention was on the brave beside her and not on her own strange attire. When they reached the gates of the army barracks she called out to the soldier posted atop the gateway. “I am Alex Evans. The new general has requested my presence today.”
The soldier cast an uneasy glance at A-jin-nay. “Who is the redskin?”
“He is A-jin-nay who has come to speak of peace with the new general.”
The soldier signaled for the gates to be opened. They rode through and dismounted in front of the new general’s office. A couple young soldiers came forward to hold their horses.
Snow crunched under Alex’s tall winter moccasins as they climbed the steps to the door. With a nervous smile at A-jin-nay she entered. The young man she had once made fun of sat behind the desk. His mouth formed a large “O” when he set eyes on them before he quickly regained his composure, avoiding her eye. “General Tick is expecting you.” He knocked on an adjoining door and opened it.
Alex and A-jin-nay stepped inside the room as the young general stood from behind the desk. “Miss Evans, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He didn’t blink an eyelash at her unusual attire instead fixing a curious gaze on the brave beside her. “Who is this?”
“This is A-jin-nay, he is my...I...” She looked down at her feet. “I belong to him. He has come to talk peace with you.”
The general nodded. “Please, have a seat.”
She sat but A-jin-nay remained standing by her side.
The general sat and opened a file on his desk. “I understand from this report that General Madden is dead?”
“Yes, sir.”
“He died in the conflict with the redskins and you intentionally sabotaged his attack, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
He glanced up at her. “What were your reasons for this betrayal, Miss Evans?”
“The general was not of sound mind, sir. He tricked me into building the war machine to wipe out a whole people. I destroyed the machine so that it would never be used to harm anyone again.” She looked him in the eye, silently challenging him to chastise her disobedience.
Instead he nodded. “Very commendable, Miss Evans.” He closed the file. “I find you cleared on all charges and furthermore have made the funds promised by General Madden available to you.”
Alex shook her head. “I have no wish to invent any more weapons for the army, sir.”
The general smiled at her. “The army is not asking you to. I am simply honoring your previous agreement.”
She stood. “Thank you, General.”
He nodded. “Your things have been loaded onto supply wagons. One of the men will help you move them back to the warehouse immediately. A-jin-nay and I have much to discuss. A treaty must be put into place to prevent such a travesty from ever happening again.”
She turned to A-jin-nay with a heavy heart. “Goodbye, A-jin-nay.”
The brave clasped her to him before he quickly released her, his face blank and his eyes sad. “Go with peace, Ta-wan-knee. May the great spirit shine on you.”
Without a backward glance she left the ro
om. She smiled at the young man behind the desk in the outer office. “What is your name, sir?”
“Lieutenant Richie, miss.”
“You have a good day, Lieutenant Richie.” Alex walked from the room hard pressed to keep her laughter to herself as the young man stared at her in surprise. Out in the yard she was approached by another young soldier.
He saluted smartly. “Private Wilks, at your service, miss. I am here to help you return your things to your home.”
Disappointment made her sigh. Part of her hoped Weston would be the one to escort her home. She had not seen him since he cast her out of his teepee that snowy night. She bit her lip and followed the soldier to the laden wagons that awaited her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alex shut the door to the warehouse and strolled down the street toward the theater. It had only been two months since she returned to her former life, but it seemed so much longer than that. Carefully she sidestepped a thick patch of ice, lifting her skirts free of the snow. A young man tipped his hat and nodded to her as she passed making her smile. She had the life she always dreamed of. Frowning she corrected her thoughts, almost the life she always dreamed of. Her inventions were well accepted these days, surprising for a female inventor, but it made her happy. She skipped up the steps to the theater.
“Good morning, Mr. Hanson.”
The door man grinned and opened the door for her. “Good morning, Miss Evans, and how are you this fine frosty morning?”
She stepped inside with a smile. “Very well, thank you. We are almost done with the levy system for the play. A few tweaks and it should work like a dream. We are having the acting troupe test it today in fact.”
Inventing Love Page 13
