Half-Breed's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  Crouching Wolf was agile and he was prepared. He stayed on his feet and circled his adversary, looking for a weakness he could exploit. He had always used deceit in his confrontations. He rarely could overpower other warriors, but he prided himself on being cunning and sly. He expected to defeat Lone Hunter; he would just have to be quick and dirty to do it. This was the moment when he was going to use his wiles to triumph over brawn. He slashed out at Lone Hunter, desperately wanting to draw first blood.

  "To the death!" Crouching Wolf shouted as he lunged at Lone Hunter.

  Hunt avoided Crouching Wolf's attack. He kept moving, staying out of his reach, as he plotted his own strategy. When he saw the opportunity, he lunged. His move was swift and sure. He caught his enemy by surprise and his knife found Crouching Wolfs unprotected side.

  The other man let out a grunt of pain and jerked back out of range, blood dripping from his wound.

  They continued to circle each other. Cold, deadly rage was fueling Hunt's need for victory. The memory of how he'd found Crouching Wolf trying to hurt Glynna enraged him. He had almost succeeded. Hunt hated to think what would have happened if he'd returned just a few minutes later. The thought of Glynna being so abused sent him charging at Crouching Wolf. He cut him on the upper torso this time. He saw the stricken look on his enemy's face and smiled at him tauntingly.

  "To the death, Crouching Wolf? Who's death? Yours?"

  Crouching Wolf was irate. Lone Hunter had drawn blood twice, and he had yet even to nick him! He was going to win! He was going to kill Lone Hunter one way or another! And after he had spit on him, he was going back into the tepee to finish what he had started with Vision Woman. In a violent move, he threw himself to the ground and kicked out, knocking Lone Hunter's feet from beneath him and sending him sprawling. He launched himself on his opponent, going for the kill, but managed only to cut his upper arm.

  Howls erupted around them from those looking on. They knew what a dirty fighter Crouching Wolf was and hoped Lone Hunter could defend himself against his trickery.

  The pain from the wound to his arm only inspired Hunt to fight even harder. He blocked the attack, and they grappled in the dirt. They strained together, rolling back and forth, each fighting for supremacy. Sweat and blood covered them.

  Glynna had quickly pulled on her own blouse over the ruined dress to cover herself before rushing from the dwelling. She hurried to the clearing to watch the battle, all the while praying fervently that Hunt would not be injured.

  As Hunt was battling Crouching Wolf, he caught sight of Glynna standing there, a stricken look on her face. Wanting to end the fight as quickly as possible, he threw the other warrior off of him. It was a powerful move that sent the other man sprawling. Hunt kicked out and knocked Crouching Wolfs knife from his hand. He then tackled him and pressed his own knife at his enemy's throat.

  Blood lust filled Hunt. This man had tried to rape Glynna. He had laid his hands upon her and hurt her. He wanted him to suffer for his savagery. He was tempted to kill him. His rage was so great that he was shaking with the power of it. If their situations had been reversed, Hunt knew Crouching Wolf would have slit his throat without hesitation.

  Hunt loomed above his enemy now, staring down at him as Crouching Wolf thrashed about and tried to break free of his unyielding grip. He saw the fear in his eyes and felt him trembling. He smiled at him, enjoying his defeat.

  "I have the power of life and death over you right now, Crouching Wolf" He tightened his grip on him and nicked his throat with his knife to emphasize his words.

  A hush fell over the onlookers as they waited to see what Lone Hunter would do.

  Crouching Wolf said nothing. He was bleeding and defeated. He stared up at Lone Hunter, waiting for his next move. Humiliation was worse than death, and he almost prayed that his enemy would end it here and now.

  Hunt held up his knife and the blade gleamed in the sunlight.

  "I will spare your life, if you will leave this village and never come back," he told him in a harsh voice. "If I ever see you near my wife again, I'll kill you without question."

  Then in one quick move, he severed the thong that had bound their wrists together. He stood up and stepped away from him. He watched and waited as Crouching Wolf got up and slowly slunk away, a defeated man.

  Those who had watched the fight laughed at Crouching Wolf and made fun of him. They did not stop shouting at him until he had mounted his horse and ridden away for the last time. No one noticed when Tall Grass followed after him a few moments later; they were too busy watching as Vision Woman ran to her husband.

  "Hunt!" Glynna flew into his arms, thrilled that he'd won. "Were you hurt?"

  "It's not bad," he answered, ignoring the pain of his wound to hold her close. He cherished her nearness. The memory of finding Crouching Wolf as saulting her tormented him. She was all that mattered to him. "What about you?"

  Hunt took Glynna by the shoulders and held her back from him so he could look at her. His expression was dark and troubled as he stared down at her. She had been taken captive in the raid because he hadn't been there to protect her. He felt the same guilt again now.

  "As long as you're all right, I'm fine," she told him with a soft smile. She gazed up at him, all the love she felt for him shining in her eyes.

  "It was a fine fight," Painted Horse said as he came to join them. "Crouching Wolf was lucky you spared his life. I would not have been so generous, had I been you."

  "I hope I don't have cause to regret letting him go."

  Painted Horse looked off in the direction the fallen warrior had ridden. He nodded slowly. "He is always a dangerous man, but especially when he is angry. Use caution. When you ride for your home, remember he could be near."

  Hunt nodded.

  The others gathered around to congratulate him and tell him what a good fight it was. He accepted their compliments, but kept a tight arm around Glynna's waist. He never wanted to let her out of his sight again.

  "You're still bleeding. We should clean your wound," she said as the crowd around them moved away.

  She led him down to the stream to wash the filth from him, so she could doctor the cut. He sat quietly on the bank while she ministered to him, washing away the gore and cleansing the wound. He noticed that her hands were trembling and he reached out to take one of them in his.

  "Why are you shaking?" Hunt asked, his voice low and gentle.

  Glynna stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. "You could have been killed,"

  "But I wasn't."

  "Thank God. I was so afraid for you. Crouching Wolf is vicious."

  Hunt cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her softly. "I will protect you always."

  His words sent a thrill through her. She kissed him back hungrily, letting him know without words exactly how much he meant to her, but in the back of her mind the question lingered: Who would protect him?

  Charles and Edmund arrived in Dry Creek early in the afternoon. Their trip from New York had been exhausting, but they were past being concerned about being tired. Nothing mattered except that they were finally in Dry Creek. Now all they had to do was find someone who could help them find the McAllister ranch, wherever that was. The stage driver directed them to the stable in town, and there they found a man willing to rent them a carriage and take them out to Tom's place.

  "You any relation to the two women who were attacked by the renegades?" Ken Wagner, the stable owner, asked as he hitched up the team to their carriage. They'd just told him they were from back east, and he knew the women had been, too.

  "You know about it?" Charles asked quickly, wondering if there had been any new news.

  "It's been the talk of the town since it happened. Hunt McAllister is the one who went after the raiding party. He's a half-breed, and he's good at tracking. As slippery as those renegades are, though, I don't know if even Hunt can find them. They're fast and they're deadly."

  Charles grew even more tense at this new
s. He had been nearly frantic with worry about Glynna and Mimi. "What else have you heard?"

  "Have they found Glynna?" Edmund added worriedly.

  "I haven't heard anything yet. The doe went out to take care of the woman who was wounded, but no one knew if she was going to make it or not."

  "Let's hurry," Charles insisted.

  He thought of the letter he'd received and how Tom McAllister had mentioned that Paul Chandler was in the area. He thought about asking for him, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was see Paul. He would think about looking him up later, once he had Glynna back and he was certain Mimi was well.

  Ken rode along on his own mount with Charles and Edmund as they left town on the last leg of their desperate journey to the Rocking M.

  "There she is. There's the Rocking M ranch house," Ken told them as it came into view.

  "Good." Charles didn't say any more. He didn't care what the place looked like. He wanted only to get there, so he could find out what had happened.

  Edmund stared at the ranch house and outbuildings in barely disguised disgust. He wondered what in the world he was doing in Texas. He knew for certain, after having made the trek out here in record time by rail and stage, that he was definitely a city man. He wanted nothing more to do with the primitive life that was led in the West. He preferred New York City. Now that was civilization. Once he and Glynna were married, he was going to make sure she never went on another of these ridiculous excursions again.

  Tom heard Gib call out that there was company coming, and he hurried from the house to see who it could be. Even at a distance, he recognized Ken from the stable in town right away. He turned back inside for a moment to let Paul know.

  "Paul! I think Glynna's father must be here. Ken's riding in with two strangers."

  Paul had been at Mimi's side constantly. She'd been coherent for that short period of time when she'd revealed the truth about Glynna to him, but then she'd developed a fever. Mimi had been rarely conscious ever since.

  Tom had sent word to the doctor about the change in her condition, and he'd come out to check on her again. He'd instructed Paul to bathe her with cool cloths to bring the fever down and to try to get her to drink all the liquids he could. Other than that, there had been little more any of them could do but wait and pray.

  And Paul had been praying fervently and continually for God to grant him another chance with Mary Catherine. He wanted one more opportunity to prove his love to her.

  At Tom's call, Paul put his Bible aside. He checked on Mary Catherine to make sure she was resting comfortably; then he went to join his friend on the porch.

  "That's Charles, all right," he told Tom as he came to stand at his side. "And that must be Edmund with him."

  "That's the man Glynna's supposed to marry when she goes'back home?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm glad they're here. I just wish we had some better news for them about Glynna."

  "I wish we did, too. At least Mary Catherine's alive, and now that they're here, maybe she'll start to improve."

  As the carriage with Ken riding escort neared, Paul could see Charles more clearly and was amazed at how little his friend had changed over the years. He studied Edmund, too, and felt an instant distrust of the man. He appeared arrogant and self-centered. Paul hoped it was just a bad first impression.

  Paul and Tom called out a greeting to Ken, and then Paul left the porch and went forward to meet the carriage as it pulled to a stop. He was uncertain how Charles would react to seeing him again, especially now that he knew about Glynna. He owed Charles a debt he could never repay this man had raised his daughter as his own. He was humbled by the thought of the help Charles had given Mary Catherine in her time of need and by the love he'd shown for her and her daughter.

  Charles recognized Paul right away, and a rage unlike anything he'd ever felt before filled him. For twenty some-odd years, he'd controlled his hatred for this man, but now, with all the tragedy around them, it exploded. Paul was the man who'd nearly destroyed his sister! If Charles had had a weapon right then, he just might have been tempted to use it. Fury roiled within him. As soon as Ken stopped the carriage, Charles climbed down. He had one thing on his mind as he turned to face the other man.

  Paul saw that Charles's expression was grim, but he attributed that to the trauma they were facing.

  "Charles, I'm glad you came."

  Paul walked toward him, wanting to fill him in on everything that had happened. Later, when they had some time alone together, he would talk to him about the past, but this wasn't the moment. Right now he was certain all Charles wanted were answers.

  "Chandler, you no-good son of a bitch!" Charles raged.

  Without thought, his control gone, he hit Paul full force. The power of the blow knocked the other man to the ground and left him sprawled flat on his back in the dirt.

  Paul was dazed by the attack, but realized he should have expected it. Blood seeped from the cut in his mouth. He shook his head to clear it and rubbed his jaw. He was lucky it hadn't been broken.

  "I guess I deserved that," he said slowly.

  "You're damned right, you deserved that and more! It's all because of you that this has happened to Mimi and Glynna! I know now that they came to this godforsaken place because you were here! If I'd known you were going to be here before they'd left, I would have locked them in the house and thrown away the key! I would never have let them out of my sight!" He glared at Paul in complete disgust.

  "I understand," he said simply, offering no defense or excuse.

  "Why Mimi felt she needed to see you again is beyond me!" Charles went on. "All you ever meant to her was heartache!"

  "I know," Paul agreed solemnly.

  "You don't know anything!" he retorted, near violence again. "Mimi would have been better off shooting you on sight than trying to talk to you again! Hell! If I had a gun right now, I'd do it myself!"

  "And I wouldn't try to stop you."

  Paul's calmness in the face of his fury put Charles off. He glared at him.

  "But Charles, before you say any more, Mary Catherine's here and she's alive."

  "Thank heaven!"

  "She's inside. I've been staying with her ever since we found her after the raid."

  Charles's gaze turned cold, and Paul could feel the hatred in it. "I'm here now. I'll take care of Mimi, just as I always have. You stay the hell away from her."

  He turned his back on Paul and started toward the house, where Tom waited on the porch.

  "I can't stay away from her, Charles. Mary Catherine's told me everything. I'm never leaving her again," Paul called after him.

  At his words, Charles stopped dead in his tracks. Aware that Edmund was sitting there, listening to all that was being said, he turned and looked at Paul, his face ashen, his eyes glowing with fierce, painful emotion.

  "Don't say another word," he ground out.

  Paul got to his feet and went to him. "Come inside. Maybe your being here will help her and give her more strength to fight."

  Charles slowly got a grip on his anger. He held himself stiffly as he followed Paul to the porch.

  Edmund was shocked as he slowly climbed down from the carriage. The usually calm, imperturbable Charles had just lost his temper and hit another man! It was incredible! He had never seen him so angry before. Edmund remembered that he had displayed a momentary flash of anger back in New York when they'd first received the telegram and it had mentioned Paul Chandler, but Charles hadn't said another word about him again on the whole trip. Now that they were face-to-face with him, though, the first thing he'd done was hit him! He wondered what had happened in the past to create such animosity between them and drive the usually controlled Charles to physical violence.

  "Edmund!" Charles called to him.

  He hurried to join them on the porch and was introduced to Paul and Tom. Ken tied up his horse and followed them.

  "Has there been any word of Glynna?" Edmun
d asked quickly.

  "Nothing yet," Tom answered. "Hunt will find her."

  "Hunt's your son?" Charles asked.

  "That's right."

  "But they said in town that he was a half-breed," Edmund said disdainfully.

  "He is." Tom turned a steely glare on the newcomer, and the discussion ended there.

  Ken asked whether they needed him for anything else and then excused himself and headed back to town.

  Tom led the way indoors.

  "Mary Catherine's in here," Paul said quietly as he directed Charles toward her room.

  "Edmund, you wait in the parlor," Charles told the younger man. "I'm going to see to my sister."

  Yes, sir.

  Edmund was glad for the reprieve. The last thing he wanted to do was hover over someone's deathbed. As tense as he was, though, he didn't bother to sit down, but began to pace the room. He'd met Glynna's aunt briefly on several occasions, but had never been particularly fond of her. He'd liked her even less after the confrontation with Charles, when she'd forced him to allow Glynna to go on this trip to Texas. Her influence over Glynna was going to change, once they were married. He would see to it. No wife of his was going to be so aggressive. It wasn't an attractive trait in a lady.

  Tom followed him into the parlor and eyed Edmund suspiciously from across the room. He'd known from the moment Edmund got out of the carriage that he didn't like him, and he wondered what Glynna saw in the man. He wondered why she'd want to tie herself down to a fellow like him. Glynna was an intelligent, talented woman. He had expected her to have better taste in men.

  Charles entered the semidarkened room quietly to find his sister lying in bed, her eyes closed. She looked deathly ill. Her face was flushed from the fever that was ravaging her. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them. There was a gaunt look about her.

  "How long has she been this way?"

  "For two days now. Before that, she was weak from the wound, but recovering. Then the fever came."

  Charles went to the bedside and gently brushed a lock of hair from Mimi's cheek. His heart constricted in his chest. His darling little sister.... She looked so frail that he was truly terrified she might not survive. And Glynna... The fear that had haunted him for the entire trip reared its ugly head. Where was Glynna? Where was his precious daughter?