Surrender to Love

by Julia Templeton

  Hopefully the Cheyenne would retaliate. Surprise attacks were obviously a way of life for the Indians. Already the Crows were waiting for their enemy. Guards were posted throughout the village, particularly around the anxious horses. Jordan prayed few Cheyenne had died in the surprise attack, and that they would have a force strong enough to rescue her. Yet a disquieting thought came to her, making her stomach clench. Would Gray Hawk want to rescue her? After the way she'd acted, she wouldn't be surprised if he looked upon her capture as a godsend.

  Something wet hit Jordan's cheek. Glancing up she saw a white woman standing before her, hands on hips. The woman pursed her lips together and spat once more, this time hitting Jordan's arm. Adding insult to injury, the woman took a long, sharp stick and poked Jordan hard in the ribs. Shocked to find one of her own abusing her, Jordan could do little but try and shield herself. Lowering her head, she ignored the woman as she continued her attack. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood, trying to envision her ranch on a summer day--thinking of the horses she would breed and train. As Jordan had hoped, the woman, finally tired of the one-sided game, stopped and joined a group at the large fire who were laughing at her expense.

  What a cold-hearted bunch, Jordan thought, her blurry gaze moving over the circle of people. Her body ached from the torture she'd endured. Every inch was covered with scrapes and bruises. She had never harmed one hair on their heads. So why then were they so determined to see her suffer?

  She squinted. A young white girl sat among the savages. Jordan wondered if she belonged to one of the other white women, but seeing no white men among them, she had to wonder if she had been taken captive as well. The girl's small face was a solemn mask as though she was in a trance, and then as though sensing her scrutiny, she glanced up and met Jordan's stare.

  Jordan tried to smile, though the slight movement split the cut on her lip. When the girl got up and came toward her, Jordan whispered, "No," fearing for the girl's safety, but she breathed a sigh of relief a moment later when no one seemed to notice her absence.

  Dressed like the rest of the women in a doeskin dress with fringes running down the length of one side, the girl's tiny feet were encased in a pair of moccasins that went to mid-calf. As she came closer, Jordan saw how pretty she was. Her skin was pale, contrasting with the dark auburn color of her hair, and her eyes were hazel, framed by long, thick, dark lashes. Jordan guessed her to be no older than five or six.

  The girl sat cross-legged in front of Jordan, watching her in silence. Her little head moved at an angle, staring at Jordan intently, as though she were admiring a toy through a glass window. A tiny hand reached out, taking a lock of Jordan's hair between dirty fingers.

  Jordan steadied herself for the yank that was sure to come, and was surprised when instead the girl's touch was gentle as she pulled her braid up along side Jordan's. The color was nearly identical. A slight smile came to the child's face.

  "What's your name?" Jordan asked, keeping her voice low.

  "Rebecca." Her sweet little voice was tentative.

  "Rebecca, that's a pretty name. I'm Jordan," she replied, noticing her captor watched them, his expression deadly. "How did you get here, Rebecca?"

  The girl bit her lower lip and dropped Jordan's hair.

  "Were you captured?"

  "You look like her."

  "Who?"

  "My mama. She had hair like yours, but your eyes are different...a little. Hers are brown, not green."

  "Is your mother here, too?"

  The girl frowned. "No, she's dead. My papa, too."

  Jordan's heart clenched at the girl's words, remembering far too well the pain of losing ones parents at a fragile age, and having to face the world alone and afraid. "I'm sorry about your parents. I know how much it hurts. My parents were killed when I was about your age."

  Rebecca's brow furrowed into a skeptical frown. "They were?"

  Jordan nodded. "Yes, and though I miss them, I just try to remember all the good times."

  "I try to do that."

  "How long have you been here?"

  Fingering the fringes on her dress, Rebecca's teeth bit into her lower lip. "I don't know...a while."

  The words hadn't left her mouth when her captor called out to her.

  "You'd better go," Jordan urged reluctantly.

  "I hope Lame Deer doesn't hurt you," Rebecca said with a sad smile. "He is so mean. I don't like him."

  Lame Deer. The name was appropriate for the man who walked with a limp, his knee twisted inward.

  Jordan watched helplessly as an older woman rushed over and grabbed Rebecca by the neck of her dress, pulling her to her feet and into a teepee. Her stern words vibrated throughout the camp. Although Jordan couldn't see what was happening, she heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh. Holding her breath, Jordan waited for Rebecca to cry out, but there was only silence.

  As the night wore on endlessly, Jordan watched as little by little the Crow villagers made their way to their teepees, until only Lame Deer remained. He stood next to the dying fire watching Jordan, his black eyes menacing even from a distance. Fear knotted her stomach until the bile rose in her throat. Jordan knew what he intended, and with her hands bound, she was helpless to do anything about it. So she did the only thing she could. Closing her eyes, she prayed.

  Hearing her captor approach, she opened her eyes just as he went down on his haunches before her. His ugly face just inches away from her, he grabbed her chin roughly and smiled, displaying a row of rotten teeth. The smell of his breath and unwashed body gagged her. Trying not to breathe, she pulled away from his touch, but he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her up against him, not caring that the rope was cutting off her air.

  His gaze slipped to her lips and for a terrifying moment she thought he would kiss her. When his hand touched her breast, she tried to scream, but his other hand clamped over her mouth. Although her hands were bound behind her back, she struggled, kicking him, and biting the filthy hand covering her mouth. He cursed out loud, then snickered at her futile efforts to hurt him, pulling the rope tighter.

  Kicking and screaming, her matted hair hanging in her eyes, she didn't see his fist until it was too late. Pain exploded in her jaw, and she could taste blood in her mouth. His expression was positively sinister, proving he was enjoying her agony far too much.

  When he hit her again, this time harder, she could feel the blood run down the side of her face. "Why don't you untie these ropes," she hissed. "Maybe then it will be a fair fight, you coward."

  Pulling the rope free of the post, he yanked her to her feet. A wave of dizziness washed through her as she stood on unsteady legs. His sinister laughter echoed throughout the village and she knew death was imminent...she actually welcomed it, preferring the end of her life to his assault.

  His smile grew wide as he jerked the rope higher and her knees buckled. The breath left Jordan, the leather choking the air from her body as she struggled to get to her feet, only to have Lame Deer knock her back down, watching cruelly as she suffocated.

  Images of her life flashed before her eyes; as a child living with her parents, going to live in Virginia, meeting Kari...and Gray Hawk. A wave of regret washed over her when she thought of the tall half-breed. If only they had time...if only she hadn't pushed him away.

  Her dream took on reality as a low voice said from the darkness, "No one takes what belongs to me." A second later a large arm slithered around Lame Deer's throat and a knife sliced his neck wide open.

  GRAY HAWK seethed with mounting rage as he untied the ropes from around Jordan's neck and wrists. Though it was dark, he clearly saw the purple bruises on her face. Guilt raced through him, knowing she should have never been taken in the first place. Who knew what else she had endured?

  Gray Hawk had meant to prolong the man's death, to make it slow and painful, but when the bastard began beating Jordan, he couldn't control his rage.

  "Let's go," he said, lifting her in his ar
ms, knowing there was precious little time before others noticed the dead man's body and their prisoner missing.

  He stopped abruptly when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. His body was rigid, ready to strike when he saw it was a young white girl. She stood outside a teepee watching them. He waited for her to yell, but instead she remained silent.

  "We have to take her with us," Jordan whispered, motioning the girl over.

  He could tell by the expression on Jordan's face that she wasn't about to leave the girl behind.

  Chapter 8

  SITTING ON the river's edge, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face, Jordan watched Rebecca splash in the water with one of Iron Bear's sons. In the weeks since they had escaped the Crow village, Gray Hawk's people had taken to Rebecca, especially the children, who seemed to be in awe of the little girl who acted much older than her tender years.

  Each day Rebecca flourished. Her smile came quickly, her eyes now held a sparkle that had been missing, and her appetite was ravenous, filling out her thin frame. She was a different child from the one Jordan had met at the Crow village.

  Rebecca had brought out a maternal streak in Jordan that she'd never known existed, making her think about having children of her own.

  "Don't go out too far, Rebecca," Kari called from the log, where she was busy sewing yet another pair of moccasins, these for Rebecca. Jordan smiled knowing Kari had also become enamored of the little girl. She was constantly doting on her, which was odd in a way, since she'd never shown any interest toward her half-sisters. Yet Rebecca was far different from those two vile little creatures, who were as bad as their mother.

  Rebecca's laughter filled the warm afternoon, sending a rush of joy through Jordan. Jordan believed in fate and knew that destiny had brought her and Rebecca together. The little girl turned to her with a smile. Her hair was slicked back off her face, making her hazel eyes appear enormous. Climbing from the water, her little body was goose-pimpled and her teeth chattered as she came to stand before Jordan shivering.

  Wrapping a blanket around her, Jordan asked, "Did you have a nice swim?"

  Rebecca frowned at Iron Bear's little boy, who still played in the water with his friends. "Yes, but he was splashing me," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "I told him not to do it, or I won't play with him anymore."

  Jordan tried not to smile. "And what did he say?"

  "He said he didn't care. That he didn't like me any ways."

  Jordan's humor died a quick death. She was instantly defensive. It was all she could do not to chastise the boy, but realized how silly she was being. Rebecca would have to learn things the hard way, just like everyone else. With a reassuring smile, she said, "Now, he doesn't mean it, love. Boys will say one thing, when they really mean another."

  "Do they?"

  Surprised to hear Gray Hawk's voice, Jordan turned just as he sat beside her. She was even more shocked when Rebecca threw herself into his arms and rested her head against his large chest. "Hi, Gray Hawk," she said, playing with the gold band on his upper arm. It seemed odd to Jordan that such a fierce warrior could take so easily to children. The two had become close in such a short period of time.

  Gray Hawk grinned down at Rebecca. "Hello there, Miss."

  Rebecca ran her fingers through his hair, then began braiding a strand. "Know what?"

  Gray Hawk shook his head.

  "Jordan says you're our hero, cause you saved us."

  Jordan could feel his gaze burning into her, and when she glanced up, she clearly saw desire there. How could he possibly want her when she had been so mean to him? He still bore the scar from where she'd thrown the bowl at him.

  Her stomach was in knots and she wondered if her thoughts were obvious to him and those around them. Uncomfortable, she dropped her gaze to Rebecca. Even then she could still feel him watching her.

  When she glanced at him again, his eyes were like molten silver. Her pulse raced as his fingers moved to the yellow bruise on her cheek. His touch was gentle, just grazing her skin. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  His touch is what hurt more than anything, not because it was on her bruised skin, but because she wanted him despite the fact she knew it could never be. "Not really," she whispered breathlessly, pressing her cheek into his hand, closing her eyes, needing his strength and his comfort. Lord help her, but she didn't care that there were others watching them. She wanted him to know how thankful she was that he'd saved her, and what he did to her every time she saw him--the way her heart missed a beat, or how she felt all tingly and light inside. And his touch--it was heaven and hell at the same time.

  His fingers lightly cupped her chin, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her with a wanting that stole the breath from her lungs.

  "You're a very brave woman, Jordan."

  His compliment pleased her. "You risked your life to save me," she replied, swallowing past the lump in her throat as his thumb lightly grazed her bottom lip.

  "You're not going to kiss, are you?" Rebecca asked, her voice mirroring her disgust.

  Gray Hawk smiled and dropped his hand to his side, the moment forever ruined. Jordan bit her lip as she glanced down at Rebecca, who was occupied making faces at Iron Bear's son.

  "Rebecca, let's get you dressed. I need some help gathering berries," Kari said, and Jordan was thankful for her cousin's quick thinking. She needed time alone with Gray Hawk.

  Watching until Rebecca and Kari disappeared, Jordan turned to Gray Hawk. His expression was warm and inviting, causing her heart to skip a beat. He was so handsome. Those eyes, so light in his dark face held a person transfixed. Jordan had to keep herself from running her fingers along his strong jaw and high cheekbones. Her gaze fell to his mouth, staring at his full lips and his white teeth as he smiled softly.

  There was so much she didn't know about him. So much she wanted to know, but had always feared asking--until now. "How did you learn to speak English so well?"

  She saw something akin to pain flash in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "My mother taught me, and as I grew to manhood, my father felt it was important to have someone who could translate and teach the others. He sent me to school back east."

  Hearing that he'd lived among the whites made hope flare within her. "Did you like it?" she asked, watching him closely. But as usual his expression revealed nothing.

  "At first it was difficult, but as others like myself arrived, it became easier. I liked to work the land, and of course, I still hunted."

  Would you do it again? She wanted desperately to know, but realized if he answered yes, it would only give her false hope that they could have a future together. He was a Cheyenne warrior, and from what Tawanka said, one day he would take his father's place at the council fire and lead his people.

  "Where is your home?" he asked.

  The question surprised her. For so long she had hidden her past from everyone they'd come into contact with--so much, she'd become an accomplished liar. A fact she wasn't proud of. When asked, she and Kari had never answered, but now she felt compelled to answer him truthfully. "Virginia."

  He lifted his brow, looking at her uncertainly. "That's in the east by the Atlantic?"

  She nodded.

  "Why were you headed west then?"

  "I wanted to return home. I left Wyoming eleven years ago when my parents were killed, and I was returning to claim my ranch."

  "How were they killed?"

  She hesitated only a moment, then before she lost her nerve, she blurted, "Indians. I was fortunate I was off fishing in the stream behind our home when it happened, or else I, too, would be dead."

  His hand covered hers, and for a moment she almost pulled away, but instead she savored the feel of his long fingers as they moved over hers. "How difficult that must have been. I'm sorry for your loss."

  He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She leaned into him, her head fitting perfectly between the hollow of his sh
oulder and his neck. Her skin prickled as his hand moved up and down her back. Even as she heard the children giggle, she couldn't pull away.

  "I'll take the children and let you bathe," he said, his breath fanning against her cheek.

  Before she could move, he was already standing and motioning for his nephews to get out of the water. Placing her change of clothes on a nearby rock, he smiled warmly.

  As Gray Hawk and his nephews made their way back to camp, Jordan's heart swelled in her chest. Her gaze rested on his strong back, remembering the feel of those bunched muscles beneath her fingertips when he'd kissed her that day that felt like so long ago. A moment she wished she could have again and probably would have, if they ever had time alone.

  What was she to do? Every day her attraction to him intensified to where she thought of him constantly. Wicked thoughts of them together, making love under the stars burned in her mind. Images of her hands moving down that strong back of his as he moved within her. Nights were the worst--having him so close, and not being able to touch him.

  Suddenly, Gray Hawk turned to look back at her, one dark brow lifted, his eyes sparkling as though he could read her mind.

  GRAY HAWK stared at his father from across the fire. Memories of the great warrior he had once been flashed through his mind as he handed him the pipe. How he wished he was still that strong, commanding presence he once was. Instead, he was a gaunt, fragile old man, who looked as though he was in his final days. The knowledge that his father was dying was unsettling, not only because he would miss his presence terribly but because Gray Hawk would become chief. He inhaled deeply of the smoke. Closing his eyes, he exhaled and handed the pipe back to his father.

  "I feel the time has come for us to speak of the white woman."

  Gray Hawk tensed, knowing that his father felt like many of the others in his tribe--that Jordan and Kari were a bad omen.

  He knew his father well enough not to argue the point that the majority of the tribe had changed their minds. They had taken to the women, and he knew in his heart that they would hate to see them go.