Wild Is My Heart

by Connie Mason

  “Your mother was Shy Deer,” Spirit Dancer repeated with a conviction that stunned Sam. “Once, she was the chosen bride of Chief Black Bear.”

  Sam’s eyes swung to Black Bear. “Then I can’t be Shy Deer’s daughter. William Howard is my father.”

  “True, Violet Eyes, William Howard is your father,” Spirit Dancer acknowledged, his voice dry and raspy. “Clear your mind of all you believe to be true and listen to Black Bear’s tale. Afterwards, no doubt will remain in your heart or mind about your heritage.”

  Black Bear began speaking in a singsong voice heavy with sadness, his eyes closed, his body moving to a silent rhythm. “Shy Deer was a virtuous young Comanche maiden. Her gentleness and beauty appealed to me and I desired her. She was a chieftain’s daughter, dutiful and obedient to her father and compliant to his wishes. It was time I took a wife, and when I expressed a desire to join with Shy Deer her father was agreeable and arrangements were quickly made. We were to be joined on the next full moon. Her bride’s price was ten ponies, and I considered her worthy of the high price. I fell deeply in love and assumed Shy Deer shared my feelings.”

  Sam searched the proud chief’s lined face and thought he must have resembled Brave Eagle in his youth. He still cut a handsome figure despite his years.

  “One day Shy Deer and another maiden wandered far from camp gathering wood. It was winter and we were camped far south of here. Catastrophe struck when Shy Deer was bitten by a rattlesnake. The maiden with her ran for help, but they had roamed a long way from the village. In the meantime Shy Deer was found by a man rounding up stray cattle. He knew he must help her or she would die. He carried her to his home.

  “When I learned Shy Deer had been stricken, I immediately set out with braves from the village to the place described by her companion. When we arrived it was as if she had disappeared into thin air. I was devastated when no amount of searching led us to my love. For many moons I refused to consider another woman until I learned Shy Deer’s fate.” His voice broke, and Spirit Dancer took up the tale.

  “William Howard took Shy Deer to his ranch and saved her life. During her long convalescence the two fell deeply in love. But being the dutiful daughter that she was, Shy Deer eventually convinced your father to take her back to her village so she might fulfill her destiny as Black Bear’s wife. It must have been painful for your father, but he could not keep her against her will.

  “Shortly before the wedding ceremony joining Shy Deer to Black Bear, she found herself with child. She was too honorable to enter into a marriage with Black Bear under those circumstances and confided in her father.”

  Black Bear struggled for composure as he continued the story. “I still would have taken Shy Deer to wife and accepted her child, but she refused, saying it would bring dishonor to me. Her father, Walks Tall, was a proud man and cast her from the tribe. She lived on the fringes of the village, eating scraps and surviving on her own. In due time her child was born. A healthy girl with violet eyes. I felt great compassion for Shy Deer and her daughter, but the laws of the Comanche are strict.”

  “I was that baby,” breathed Sam, her voice trembling with emotion. “But what happened to Shy Deer, and how did I end up with my father?”

  “One day the village was attacked by soldiers. No one but women, children, and old men were in camp, the others were hunting buffalo,” Spirit Dancer said, looking twenty years into the past. “From her tipi at the edge of the village Shy Deer saw her mother struck down. She hid you in the forest and rushed to her mother’s aid, only to be struck down herself and left for dead. But she wasn’t dead. Somehow she found the strength after the soldiers left to collect her child and bring her to her father.”

  “Shy Deer knew she was dying,” Black Bear added sadly, “and could expect no help for her motherless child. We knew none of this until much later. Somehow Shy Deer survived the trek to your father’s ranch, dying in her lover’s arms after presenting him with his daughter.”

  “How … how do you know all this?” Sam asked, astounded as well as deeply skeptical.

  “From your father’s own lips. After Shy Deer’s death he went in search of her father but found the village annihilated and the People scattered,” Black Bear revealed. “Eventually he found our new campsite and told me what had happened when he learned Shy Deer’s parents had both died in the raid. He said Shy Deer was buried on his property and announced his intention to keep his child. Because Shy Deer had once meant so much to me, I allowed your father to go in peace to raise then-daughter as Shy Deer would wish. In the ensuing years we heard nothing more of the Howard family until Spirit Dancer’s vision foretold your coming. Shy Deer and her child were all but forgotten. It took a vision quest before answers were given and truths made clear. You are the granddaughter of Walks Tall and daughter of my beloved Shy Deer. It is right that you should return to your own people.”

  “But… but what of Elizabeth Ashley?” Sam asked, by now beyond mere shock.

  “The spirits revealed that when your father found himself with a small infant to care for he traveled to Virginia to propose to a woman he had known before he settled in Texas,” Spirit Dancer answered. “She must have been a remarkable woman to take on the added burden of another woman’s child. A half-Comanche child would not have been easy to accept. Yet you say you have nothing but fond memories of Elizabeth Ashley.”

  Sam was silent a long time, absorbing all the astounding revelations concerning her heritage. As long as she could remember she had hated Indians, especially Comanches, whose cruelty was legendary among Texans. To find herself the daughter of a Comanche mother was devastating.

  She searched her brain for some hint, something her father might have said or done in the past to suggest that Elizabeth was not her mother, but nothing came to mind. And in her heart Sam knew that Elizabeth had been a kind, gentle woman who had always loved her, even though she was her husband’s half-breed daughter.

  Because of the hatred that Texans bore Indians, Sam knew that her father had kept mum all those years to protect her. But what if… what if Spirit Dancer were lying?

  As if reading her mind. Spirit Dancer said, “Accept the truth, Violet Eyes. Once the vision was revealed to me, I recalled everything as it happened long ago. You are Shy Deer’s daughter. Learn to live with your new life.”

  “But I’m happy the way I am,” Sam objected. “I like what I was. I have a family. My brother needs me. I want to go home.”

  “This is your home, Violet Eyes.” This came from Brave Eagle, who until now had done nothing more than listen to the amazing story.

  When Sam expressed a desire for her old way of life, Black Bear injected words that left her reeling. “Walks Tall has been gone these many moons, but I gladly and willingly open my heart and home to you, Violet Eyes. We are your people, and I will become your guardian. My son has expressed a desire to mate with you, and I have given my permission. The ceremony will take place on the night of the next full moon. You have three weeks in which to prepare yourself. Until then you will learn the customs of our tribe and develop skills needed to make Brave Eagle a proper mate.”

  Sam leaped to her feet. “No! I won’t do it! You can’t make me marry against my will. I don’t love Brave Eagle.”

  Black Bear’s eyes went cold and his face settled into harsh lines. “Brave, Eagle is a fearless warrior, strong, proud, and capable of leading the People when the time comes. He will provide well for you and the daughters and sons you give him. Love will surely come of such a strong union.”

  “But I can’t!” Sam cried.

  “Do you already have a mate?” Brave Eagle asked, frowning.

  If only she could say yes, Sam thought bleakly. The only man who had asked for her hand was a lily-livered coward who thought only of saving his own skin. The man she wanted didn’t want her, not on a permanent basis anyway. Why did she have to love a gun-toting womanizer with no room in his cold heart for love? In the final analysis there was but one answe
r to Brave Eagle’s question.

  “No, I have no mate. There is no one.”

  Suddenly Spirit Dancer stirred uneasily, impaling Sam with his piercing black eyes. But it was to Brave Eagle and Black Bear that he spoke. “The lion, not the eagle, will mate with Violet Eyes.”

  His cryptic words were all but ignored by Brave Eagle, whose love for Violet Eyes transcended all else. “The eagle is cunning and can defeat the lion. It is the eagle who will banish the lion and mate with Violet Eyes. Your eyes have dimmed, old man. Look at me and tell me I am not a fit mate for Shy Deer’s daughter.”

  Spirit Dancer’s eyes slid away, unwilling or unable to refute the proud warrior’s claim. “Time will tell,” he said through bloodless lips. His meager strength was all but depleted and nothing more could be gained by arguing with Brave Eagle, who was ruled by his heart, not his head, where Violet Eyes was concerned.

  Turning to Sam, Brave Eagle said, “You will be mine on the next full moon, Violet Eyes.” Then he turned and strode away with the arrogant gait of a man who knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.

  Sam tried to make sense of the conversation but decided that too much had been lost in translation. What was all the talk about eagles and lions? Her vigorous protests did little good as she was summarily dismissed by Black Bear. Fuming in impotent rage, she returned to her tipi, waiting until she would be alone with Fawn to spit out her objections.

  Meanwhile, Spirit Dancer and Black Bear resumed the conversation. The shaman leveled an inscrutable look at Black Bear, predicting ominously, “Even as we speak the lion is stalking his prey.”

  “Will the lion find what he is seeking?”

  “He will come,” nodded the shaman, looking inward.

  “You heard Violet Eyes deny she has a mate.”

  “My visions do not lie. A man with hair and eyes of tawny gold possessed with the heart of a lion will come to claim his soulmate.”

  “Brave Eagle will fight for her,” Black Bear remarked sagely.

  Spirit Dancer nodded as if a confrontation were unavoidable. “They will fight.”

  “Will my son emerge victorious?” Black Bear asked anxiously. It wasn’t that he doubted his son’s courage or stamina, for he had proven himself many times over in battle. Brave Eagle had counted many coups on the enemy. Rather it was fear of the unknown lion that caused Black Bear to question Spirit Dancer. Besides, he had just found Shy Deer’s daughter and didn’t want to lose her as he had lost her mother.

  “The outcome is in the hands of the Great Spirit above,” Spirit Dancer chanted, looking heavenward. “You must be prepared to accept whatever happens. If Violet Eyes is meant to remain with the People and become Comanche, Brave Eagle will defeat Lion Heart and win her love. If not, she will leave with Lion Heart, but with her will go a valued possession of the People.”

  “Can you not consult the spirits again to learn the outcome?” Black Bear suggested.

  “I am weary, my chief, and have exhausted all my resources on this vision quest. I fear mere is nothing more to learn. Patience and time will bring all the answers you seek.”

  Colt crouched behind a large boulder at the edge of the Comanche village, his eyes avidly following the comings and goings of the inhabitants. He had come upon the village late yesterday. It was the fourth such encampment he had investigated in his weeks of traveling through Indian territory. Each time, he left Thunder tethered a good distance away and approached the village on foot, concealing himself in such a way that he could watch the camp undetected. Each time, he had experienced profound disappointment when several days of observation produced no sign of Sam. Colt prayed she was still alive as he continued his search with renewed desperation.

  Now he watched as two Indian maidens left one of the tipis hand in hand and headed in his direction. Before he ducked down he had seen that each woman carried a basket over one arm as they walked toward a berry patch some distance beyond the boulder he crouched behind. A powerful, fierce-looking brave, handsome in a primitive way, watched their progress, his expression inscrutable. As the two women left the perimeter of the camp, the brave turned to follow, his long, lithe steps reminding Colt of a stalking panther. The brave caught up with the women as they disappeared into the trees. Colt could see them clearly, but very little of their conversation reached his ears. He wished they would conclude their business so he could get on with his surveillance.

  Fawn and Sam did not hear Brave Eagle’s silent steps behind them—not even a snap of a twig gave him away. Besides, Sam could think of nothing but her impending marriage to the chief’s son. He was handsome and brave, and seemed quite fond of her, but she didn’t love him and had no intention of living the rest of her life with the Comanches. It annoyed Sam the way Brave Eagle’s black eyes flamed with desire whenever they lit on her.

  Suddenly Sam’s ruminations were interrupted when a steel band encircled her waist, slamming her against a solid wall of rock encased in smooth, bronze flesh. Swiveling her head, she saw Brave Eagle’s noble face looming above her.

  “Why do you and my sister stray so far from camp, Violet Eyes?” he asked, his voice low and strident.

  “We go to pick berries, brother,” Fawn quickly pointed out.

  He graced his sister with a brief but brilliant smile, his fondness evident. “Leave us. Fawn, I wish a moment alone with my intended bride.” Fawn started to protest until Brave Eagle added, “I would do nothing to harm Violet Eyes. She will join you shortly.”

  “What do you want. Brave Eagle?” Sam asked in halting Comanche. Thanks to Fawn’s perseverance, she grew more proficient in the language with each passing day.

  “Only to speak with you, Violet Eyes. To ask if you have resigned yourself to our joining. The day cannot arrive too soon for me. You fill my heart with joy and my loins with longing.”

  Sam flushed, choosing her words carefully. “I admire you, Brave Eagle, truly I do. You are all an Indian maiden could wish for. But I am the wrong mate for you. Through an accident of birth I may be Comanche, but in my heart I belong to the white world.”

  Brave Eagle ignored her words. “You learn quickly, Violet Eyes. Soon you will possess all the knowledge that is natural to a Comanche maiden. When I take you to my mat, my first thrust between your thighs will end your fears and make you mine forever. I will cherish you and take no other wife as long as you give me strong children.”

  Sam knew that Brave Eagle made quite a concession by promising to take only one wife, but she could offer him no hope for their future.

  “You honor me, Brave Eagle, but it changes nothing. I’ve noticed that Pretty Dove looks at you with adoring eyes. Why not look to your own kind for a mate?”

  Brave Eagle stiffened. “You are my own kind.”

  What did this exasperating woman want from him? Brave Eagle wondered glumly. She was as beautiful as she was infuriating. He yearned to press her down into the spongy earth and thrust into her yielding flesh until she was breathless and pliant beneath him. If his father hadn’t taken her under his protection, he would have done so long ago. But soon—soon he would know her tempting flesh, experience her succulent warmth, sire strong sons on her body, and she would love him. But until that day he would satisfy his longing with the taste and smell and feel of her.

  Pulling her slight form into the curve of his muscular body, Brave Eagle’s hard lips slanted across Sam’s, his burgeoning desire a living thing between them. It did little good to struggle, for Sam realized his strength was tremendous and he would not be deterred. Resting limply in his arms, Sam quietly endured. Intuitively she knew that Brave Eagle would not hurt her, that for the time being she was safe even though his desire for her was enormous. With that in mind she neither struggled nor protested, just patiently waited for him to finish so she might join Fawn. What his kisses did was convince Sam she couldn’t marry this stalwart Indian brave when another man equally imposing already possessed her heart.

  From his concealment Colt watch
ed the tall Comanche embrace the slim maiden dressed in a beautiful beaded doeskin dress. Her shiny black hair hung down her back in two long braids held in place by a headband with a lone eagle’s feather protruding from the back. Though her back was to Colt, the golden flesh of her arms reflected the dappled sunlight stabbing through the tall trees towering above them. A feeling of recognition jolted through him.

  Curiously Colt wondered if the couple were lovers, then laughed at his own stupidity. Of course they were lovers, their very actions indicated they were more than just friends. The maiden did not protest when the brave’s kiss deepened or his hands roamed freely over lush curves. He felt like an intruder and hoped the brave didn’t intend to mate with the woman here in the woods with him looking on. Then suddenly the couple parted and the maiden whirled, for the first time presenting Colt with an unobstructed view of her face.

  What struck Colt initially was the look of absolute hopelessness on her lovely features. His next thought was that if he didn’t know better he’d have thought Sam really was a Indian. Christ! How could she let that filthy savage maul her? He fully expected to find her either dead or a much abused prisoner. Instead, she appeared healthy and obviously well treated, though her defeated expression proclaimed her far from happy. If the Comanche brave meant nothing to Sam, then Colt reckoned she was being forced into a situation beyond her control. Had the Indian already taken Sam to his mat? The thought brought an urge to kill, cold sweat running down his spine.

  Abruptly the Indian released Sam and she ran off to join her companion. The brave watched as she fled down the path, obviously loath to let her go. The possessive smile on his face and an air of expectancy about him spoke volumes, and Colt was consumed with a terrible fear. If the Comanche had taken Sam into his tipi, as Indians sometimes did white women captives, how in the hell would he get her out of the village? As Brave Eagle returned to the village, Colt allowed himself to relax, his mind working furiously.