Sweet Savage Heart

by Janelle Taylor

  “I’d say give her a week or so to get used to us before dropping it on her. That’ll give her plenty of time to adjust to the news before we reach home. We’re too close to the camp and she’s still a little peeved with me right now. If we get her dander up, she could go hightailing it back to her brother to find out why he tricked her.”

  Travis explained how she had reacted to her mother’s necklace and the name Rana Michaels, and he told Nathan about the nightmare she had experienced that first night. “The truth might confuse her and frighten her. We’re still strangers. We’ve got to give her time and patience.”

  “You think she remembers part of the past?”

  “My guess is yes. But something back there has her scared, Nate, so she doesn’t want to remember it. Lone Wolf told me she used to have those bad dreams lots of times. Maybe it’s nothing more than that she can’t allow herself to recall the good without recalling the bad. That’s how it was with me. I found it was better not to think about the past at all. Hell, you can’t change it, so why keep it on your mind and let it rub you raw inside?” he declared bitterly.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Nathan murmured, locking his softened gaze on the girl who was approaching them slowly. Nathan did not notice when Travis absently agreed and forced his longing gaze away from the fetching sight. “She’s got her mother’s spirit. She’s impulsive and daring, and she’s tough. I won’t let happen to her what happened to my Marissa. I’ll kill any man who goes near her.”

  “Love isn’t something you can control, Nate. All you can do is pray she doesn’t meet another Raymond Michaels. But if you start pushing her and bossing her, I can promise you she’s going to rebel. That little vixen is the most willful and infuriating creature I’ve ever met.”

  Nathan chuckled. “That sounds just like somebody I used to know,” he teased, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “With luck, you’ll be just as successful at taming her as you were with me.” Travis grinned and winked at Nathan.

  “Who said I was finished with you, son?” Nathan retorted. “For a man who’s down on women, love, and marriage, you sure do seem to know a lot about ‘em. Shame you’ve never met a good woman.”

  Rana watched the two men teasing and laughing, and it made her feel good to see how close they were. She walked past them to the stream to wash her face and hands. She turned when Travis called her name but did not respond when he asked in English if she were hungry.

  “Loyacin hwo, Rana?” he repeated.

  “Han,” she replied, then joined the two men. She thanked Travis for the food he handed her, then wondered why he did not scold her for not handling this female chore. She ate slowly and daintily as she watched Cloud nibble on grass nearby.

  Travis asked suspiciously, “Have you finished yet?” When Rana did not react to his words, he inquired in Oglala, “Wanna lustan hwo?”

  She glanced at him, praising herself for her quick and clever mind. “Han, Travis Kincade.”

  The three packed their supplies and mounted, ready to continue their long journey. They rode silently and swiftly until dusk. When Travis located a spot in which he felt it was safe to camp, he told them, “We’ll stay here tonight, then leave early in the morning.”

  Travis was pleased when Rana willingly helped gather wood and prepared their evening meal. When everything had been cleared away, the two men placed their sleeping rolls near the fire, then Travis unrolled Rana’s buffalo mat between them. He even smiled when he told her to go to sleep and explained that they would have a hard day’s ride ahead. He stretched out on his bedroll, knowing from past observation that Rana slept on her right side which would compel her to face him. He watched her surreptitiously.

  Rana took her appointed place between the two men, lying on her back and staring at the star-sprinkled sky overhead. For a long time, she and Travis did not sleep. She was very much aware of the ever-increasing distance between her and the Oglala camp, and how each day brought her nearer to her new destiny, one that she could not envision. She recalled Lone Wolf’s words: “You have trained and waited for the Great Spirit to return you to your destined path. Do not cower in fear or doubt and refuse to walk it.” She shuddered with apprehension.

  “Are you cold, Rana?” he inquired softly in Oglala, noting that the weary Nathan was slumbering peacefully.

  “No,” she responded in Oglala. “How far is it to your home?”

  “Wikcemna nunpa nais wikcemna yamni anpetu,” he replied, giving her a time of twenty to thirty days.

  As she turned her head and looked at him, their eyes fused. “There is much to learn. What if your people do not accept me?”

  Travis’s gaze roamed her exquisite features and flaming hair. She looked so vulnerable and insecure. He realized how intimidating this sudden change must be to her. Lone Wolf had told him she had sworn never to allow anyone to hurt her again. Like him, she had become defensive and wary. She wanted to appear tough and hard, but she was a compelling contrast of strength and softness. He smiled and reached out to caress her cheek. He said tenderly, “You are very smart, Rana. You will learn everything quickly and easily. Do not worry; everyone will like you and accept you. Go to sleep. It is late.”

  She smiled, her expression softening with the gentle gesture. “Is that why you chose Wild Wind?” she inquired seriously.

  He chuckled. “I chose Rana because she was the woman of most beauty and value in the Oglala camp. Was it not a great honor to help your people? Do not fear me and your new life.”

  “Was White Eagle afraid of this new life when he left the Hunkpapa camp long ago?” she questioned curiously.

  Travis rolled to his back and inhaled deeply. He wanted to continue talking pleasantly with her, but he did not like the direction the conversation was taking. “I will explain those past moons another time. I was young and bitter, and my leaving was not as yours. My mother and father were killed in battle, and speaking of such times brings pain and sadness. Is it not the same with you?” he asked pointedly.

  Rana eyed him intently. She was filled with an urge to embrace him and comfort him. His tone and look had exposed such anguish, such resentment. Clearly those “past moons” had been tormenting and difficult times for this man. Perhaps that was why he had trouble revealing deep emotions and why he continually tried to avoid or to master them. He liked to be in control of himself and the situation, and emotional turmoil prevented it, or so he believed. This was a man who had been hurt deeply and who now lived too much within himself. She liked this sensitive, vulnerable, gentle side of her new husband. Suddenly she wondered if he had had a lover or a wife who had been slain in that same battle and if that were the reason he had left the Lakota lands and was reluctant to reach out to her. That speculation caused jealousy to flood her body. She had so many doubts and questions about this man.

  “Yes,” she admitted softly, “the past can be painful.”

  “One day, will you tell me what you remember of your past?” he asked gingerly, and watched her stiffen in panic.

  “I wish to forget it. Do not ask,” she beseeched him. “When the sun has gone to sleep on a day, it cannot be recalled or changed.”

  “Things that happen because of events of a past sun can be changed,” he gently corrected. “Mistakes or evil deeds can be made right and old enemies can become new friends,” he clarified.

  “It is a mistake to leave when my people are at war.”

  “I cannot save the Oglalas, Rana, but I can save you. You are not deserting your people by returning to where you belong. If you stay, you can do nothing to halt their destiny, but only bring about your own suffering and death. To yield or change is not a defeat or self-betrayal.”

  Rana did not want to question his disquieting words. “Tell me about your home and lands,” she entreated to distract him.

  Travis glanced at her and grinned. “Another day, Rana. We must sleep. We have a long ride ahead. Are you restless tonight?” She sighed and no
dded. He asked, “Does your heart quiver with fear?”

  Rana’s expression became one of annoyance. “I do not quiver in fear. I am tired. I will sleep now.” She turned her back to him, rankled by his insinuation of cowardice, and she vowed to prove him wrong.

  Travis knew he had said the wrong thing; he had meant “anticipation,” not “fear.” The problem was that often a meaning was lost through a difficulty in translation. He was sharp enough not to chuckle at her amusing reaction. “Good night, Rana. Sleep well.” Travis closed his eyes, but his keen instincts remained alert through the night.

  Rana did not sleep well and was irritable when Travis aroused her the following morning when dawn was barely a reality. Travis had already gathered wood, built a fire, and prepared coffee. She seized a blanket and headed downstream to bathe. When the dark-haired man questioned her obvious intentions, she sullenly replied, “Yuzaza wacin.”

  “Hurry, and do not go far. Enemies could be nearby.”

  “I can defend myself,” she tartly informed him. “I am not a child or a frightened girl. Will you return my knife and sheath?”

  Travis studied her for a moment, then retrieved the items from his saddlebag. He handed them to her and warned, “Use it only for defense, or I will take it away. Do not anger me with silly games.”

  “I will use my knife to defend Wi… Rana against all dangers. I am smart. A weapon is not for play. Your warning insults me.”

  “Your behavior this morning insults me and you,” he retorted. “A person should not be angry without reason. And when a person does not feel well, he should not blame or annoy others for his bad feelings. Go, bathe, and return quickly. We must eat and ride.”

  She started to quarrel with him, then changed her mind. It was a waste of time and energy to exchange bitter words with him. She glanced at the older man, who was watching them intently. When Nathan smiled at her, she did not respond. “I will hurry, my husband,” she stated sarcastically, then glowered at him.

  Travis scowled, then shook his head as he watched her departure. His troubled gaze wandered over her gently swaying hips and hair. One look into that stunning face had been enough to set his body aflame for her. He swore under his breath in Lakota as he tossed the saddlebag to the ground and reached for the coffeepot and a tin cup.

  “Trouble between you two again?” Nathan inquired as he held out his cup for a refill, his gaze going from one to the other.

  “Nothing I can’t handle, Nate. She’s in a bad mood this morning. I think she was too nervous to sleep. She realizes this trade is for real and that she’s getting farther away from the Oglala camp. She’s having trouble understanding a new husband who doesn’t touch his wife.”

  “Maybe you should tell her the marriage isn’t real, so she can stop worrying about becoming a wife,” Nathan suggested.

  “Isn’t real, Nate?” he repeated skeptically. “To her, • it’s very real. She’s been raised under Indian laws and customs. She believes in them and follows them, just like you with your white religion. Telling her our marriage isn’t binding or real is like telling you there isn’t a God. Or telling you your American laws aren’t legal or binding, that it’s all right to murder and steal. This was a crazy idea and I shouldn’t have gone along with it. She’s going to be furious when she discovers how we’ve lied to her. And she’s going to be hurt.”

  Nathan did not know what to say or do. He could tell Travis was upset. He knew that Travis, like his granddaughter, had been raised as an Indian, raised to honor and accept Indian laws and customs. Nathan wondered if that was the problem that seemed to be harassing and confusing the young man who was like a son to him. Maybe it had been a big oversight on Travis’s part; maybe he had not realized he would feel as if they were legally married inside his head and his heart. Perhaps Travis was still bound emotionally to his Indian heritage. To Nathan, the Oglala joining ceremony had merely been meaningless words. Yet he realized he would have to face the reality that it had not been viewed in that same light by Rana and Travis. And though he could not be sure, Nathan had a strong suspicion that he was right in these assumptions and speculations.

  Travis’s return to this area and the Lakota people had sparked old feelings and thoughts. For awhile he had become Indian again, and he had enjoyed it. Long ago he had been forced to give up this kind of life, and it had been unwise of him to confront it again. Perhaps he was still more Lakota than he had realized. His heart had surged with joy and excitement, almost as if he had been coming home and the white world was far away. No matter how much Travis told himself the marriage was not legal or binding under the white laws of his chosen people, he could not forget or ignore his Indian upbringing. Part of him said they were truly joined, and part of him said they were not. Part of him said he wanted this marriage, and part of him said he did not. He cursed his recklessness, for now he was trapped between his friend Nathan and his wife, Wild Wind. There was nothing he could do until he either convinced Nathan that the marriage was binding or convinced Rana that it was not.

  While growing up in the Hunkpapa camp, Travis had witnessed many joining ceremonies. He recalled his own, envisioning Rana’s touch and willingness to marry him and remembering the words and seriousness of the occasion. He recalled how he and Rana had pledged themselves to each other beneath the eyes of Wakan Tanka, who was the same as God to him. He remembered opening the marriage cape, her stepping inside, and his closing it around them to bind them for life. He still believed in the Great Spirit and the Indian way of life, through which he had been wed to this unique woman who trusted him. Were the Indian law and religion any less binding or sacred than the white man’s? If he stood in a white man’s church and repeated those same words in English, would it be any different to him, for him? He did not like being troubled by his conscience, a conscience that had been born during his years with Nathan. Now he had to think about more than himself, yet he knew that if it had not been Nathan and his granddaughter involved—

  Nathan interrupted his train of thought. “You did the right thing, son. It was the only way we could rescue her. Those Indians didn’t give us any choice. She’ll understand once we explain everything to her.”

  “Do you forgive and forget when someone makes a fool of you? I know I’ve never forgotten or forgiven what Jeremy Kincade or Beth Lowry or Pretty Rabbit did to me and others. Just like I can’t overlook what Harrison and Clarissa Caldwell are trying to do to us. Maybe you were right; we should have told Rana the truth from the beginning. She’ll despise me. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be delighted she isn’t really tied to me. Let’s drop it, Nate. Here she comes.”

  “You look as pretty as a field of flowers, Rana,” Nathan stated, appreciatively eyeing her as Travis translated his compliment. She was wearing a clean buckskin dress with beaded designs, and her thick red hair was neatly braided and secured with decorative rosettes. Her eyes were large and bright, and her skin appeared smooth and flawless. Nathan smiled as he noticed her bare feet. He saw why Travis was attracted to this woman he had vowed to ignore. Maybe—

  “Pilamaya, Nate,” she responded, deceptively appearing calm.

  After they had eaten, Travis announced that it was time to mount and ride. Rana sat down to pull on her moccasins. She was mildly surprised when Travis extended his hand to help her rise, then lifted her to Cloud’s back with an ease that revealed his strength and agility. She stated mischievously, “Pilamaya, mihigna.”

  Travis sent her a look that told her he wished he could yank her off Cloud’s back and kiss her soundly. She had not missed the way his hands had lingered on her waist, or the way one had leisurely slid down her left leg, or the way his gaze had feasted on her features. Maybe it would be wise to keep touching him, she mused, and reminding him he was mihigna, her husband…

  They rode for hours with Rana between them, their fast pace and the noise of the horses’ hooves preventing any conversation. When they halted for the midday meal, Travis told Rana to stay with Nathan while
he did some scouting.

  “Do you expect trouble, my husband?” she asked worriedly, her entreating gaze meeting his intense stare.

  A warm flush passed over his body. “Just being careful. I need to conceal our trail. We have been leaving one a child could follow.”

  “I do not understand. Do you think my people will come after you? You do not trust them?” Her large, blue-gray eyes searched his.

  “You left many hungry, angry men behind,” he teased roguishly. “When Rides-Like-Thunder discovers you are gone, he might come after you. If I am slain, you are free to join to another.”

  “Do not make jokes with me, Travis Kincade,” she scolded.

  “That is true, Rana, but I seek to hide our trail from enemies—soldiers and renegades,” he replied honestly. “If the soldiers learn that I purchased the guns for warriors and killed the white man who tricked me, they will come after us. As soon as we can, we need to find you some clothes. Those Indian garments stand out like a dark sky. We do not need to arouse any suspicion this close to your camp. I doubt your identity is unknown to the whites and soldiers or to enemy tribes, a beautiful white girl with big blue eyes and flaming hair…”

  “You think they would try to capture me and harm me?”

  “For one reason or another,” he answered vaguely. “Promise me you will stay here with Nathan and behave yourself.”

  “You do not trust your wife?” she probed.

  Travis knew he would be gone for awhile, and he did not want to bind her and cause more trouble between them. He was afraid Nathan would not be able to handle this willful, clever female, for his friend underestimated her cunning, her daring, and her apprehension. If he used clever words and expressed faith in her, he might win her trust and obedience. “Lone Wolf told me you are as well trained as his warriors. I need you to protect Nathan. He is not as young or as quick as you are. You could flee and hide, or defend yourself. Stay alert so you can warn him of danger. But do not take any foolish chances. I love him more than my own life. Will you do this for me, Rana?”