Sweet Savage Heart

by Janelle Taylor

  They passed near the Crooked Creek battle site and, on June twentieth, camped just inside what was now called Indian Territory, which would one day become the state of Oklahoma. It had been forty-seven days since they had left Texas, twenty-three days since the joining ceremony, seventeen days since they had left the Oglala camp, and five days since Rana had been told the truth about herself.

  Travis did not know what to think about the exquisite redhead with steely blue eyes, for she had been behaving in a most unexpected manner, like a perfect lady or a misplaced angel. Having been told of Wild Wind’s turbulent past by Lone Wolf and having witnessed her temper and willfulness in action, Travis was now suspicious of her sunny attitude and obedient demeanor, though he was pleased by her friendliness and compliance where Nathan was concerned. He found himself watching her furtively, day and night, as if she were a hot kettle that was simmering cleverly without giving off alerting steam, a kettle that he knew could burn one badly if it were touched in the wrong place. Travis felt that it would be very much in character for Rana to seek punishment or revenge—however small—for the trick they had played on her, a trick for which he seemed to be taking the brunt of the blame rather than being able to share it with Nathan and Lone Wolf. If this little wildcat were as conniving as most women he had met, he mused, she would bide her time until the right moment presented itself. He had advised, almost demanded, that she trust them; yet he did not fully trust her, for it did not seem to be Wild Wind’s nature to allow herself to be tamed so quickly or easily.

  Each day Travis had waited for the ground to slip from beneath him but he could do nothing more than speculate on the type of retaliation she might take. He wished he could detect some hint of a scheme so he would be better prepared to thwart her. In about eight or ten days, they would reach the Rocking C Ranch. Between here and there, they would cross more plains and prairies, an occasional rocky slope, rolling hills, several rivers, and vast Indian lands. It was these Indian lands to which Travis’s attention and thoughts were drawn now as they made camp for the night.

  Indian Territory had been chosen long ago as the relocation sight for the “Five Civilized Nations” from the South: the Cherokee, Creek, Choctaw, Seminole, and Chickasaw. In 1834, this entire region had been divided among these tribes, and each tribe had been assured of its ownership and authority over a certain portion of the area. During the recent North/South war, most of these tribes had sided with the Confederacy because so many of them owned slaves. Afterward, in 1866, the Government began forcing new treaties on the five nations, compelling them to cede parts of their assigned territories to the United States to be used as homes for other Indians they planned to relocate, as if their objective were to bunch all Indians into one area where they could be watched and controlled carefully and easily. The Government was, perhaps intentionally, overlooking one major problem: the Plains Indians did not like other Indians claiming their ancestral territories, especially with the help of the whites.

  Travis had decided that maybe it was all a clever plot to reduce the numbers of Indians and their tribes by placing them in bloody conflict with one another, for the woodland Indians from the South had no training against the awesome skills and prowess of the Plains warriors, who were determined to hold on to their sacred lands and hunting grounds. He wondered how long it would take before everyone, Indian and white, realized that relocated Southern tribes could not coexist peacefully with the fierce Plains tribes of the Kiowa, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Comanche, and Apache Nations. He felt certain the U.S. Government would never honor the treaty they were offering the Sioux, which promised to transform most of Dakota into the Great Sioux Reservation, for that area was too rich in grazing lands and gold. The Medicine Lodge Treaty Council was scheduled to be held in Kansas within a few weeks and the Fort Laramie Peace Talks were to take place in Wyoming in the spring; Travis wondered how much, if any, difference those papers and promises would make, for he was very much aware that flowery words seldom changed ingrained feelings.

  Because the Cheyenne were longtime friends and allies of the Lakotas, Travis often thought about the Cheyenne leaders he had met and had ridden with, some before he had left the Hunkpapas and some afterward. During this present journey, he had learned many new things about these men. He knew that Tall Bull and Black Kettle wanted peace with the whites and survival for their people, as did so many Indians these days. Unlike many of the “Dog Soldiers,” as the whites called members of the Cheyenne Dog Men Society who were some of the most highly trained and skilled warriors who had ever existed, Chief Black Kettle was willing to accept the white man’s peace treaty and go to a reservation. The leaders of the Dog Soldiers—Tall Bull, White Horse, and Bull Bear—only wanted peace; they were proud men who would never sacrifice their freedom and honor; they were not men who could laze around a reservation. No, Travis reflected, like the Lakota branch of the Sioux Nation, the Cheyenne Dog Soldiers would battle Indian and white to retain their lands and dignity. Travis felt that these Cheyenne leaders were too smart and honorable to kill off the Pawnee for the devious white man and, he decided, if he were given the opportunity to see them, he would tell them so!

  During the next few days they would be traveling through the area that had been given to the Creeks, with whom the whites had made a strong treaty. Therefore Travis assumed they would not be facing any problems. If everything went as he planned, they should reach the Fort Cobb Agency within the next few days.

  Travis sat near the campfire and sipped his coffee while pretending to ignore Rana, who was talking and laughing with Nathan. Every time they had stopped to rest or camp for the night, Rana and Nathan had worked together on chores or her education. The older man was teaching her about English words and numbers and had promised to teach her to read, spell, and write when they reached home. He also told her he would explain about money and shopping and would take her into town to let her practice her new skills. They used sticks, rocks, or knives and the ground to write their “lessons.” When they were not studying, Nathan would relate facts about the ranch and hired hands, Fort Worth, their neighbors, her parents, Rana’s childhood, and her visits to the Rocking C Ranch. Gradually Rana was able to associate her captive teacher’s lessons with those Nathan provided and she began to be amazed at how much she was remembering and learning. And as Rana’s knowledge and determination increased, both she and Nathan seemed to enjoy themselves more and draw ever closer.

  Travis secretly observed the vivacious creature whose laughter and voice sent tremors over his weary body and called every nerve to attention. He noticed the way her grayish blue eyes sparkled with life and excitement, and the way the corners of her mouth curled playfully when she smiled. In the firelight, her skin reflected a vibrant, healthy glow, as did her long curls. He wanted to bury his hands in that thick mane of golden-red hair and tease strands of it beneath his nose. He wanted to feel her cotton-soft lips against his. His eager gaze savored them for a moment before traveling lower. Evidence of her battle with the deserters had vanished. Her lithe arms and legs, which appeared sleek and golden in the flickering light, were revealed to his scrutiny from her careless position on her furry mat. He yearned to let his hands wander over them with his eyes closed and his senses unrestricted. But his hands and lips craved more; they itched to explore every inch of her enticing body. Damn, what potent magic and temptation was sitting only a few feet from him! he cursed in frustration as he shifted from a position that was becoming uncomfortable. It was reckless to sit there watching her and hungering for her until his body ached for hers!

  Travis attempted a casualness he did not feel as he left his sleeping roll and headed toward the surrounding trees. He walked to the nearby Cimarron River, yanked off his clothes, and slipped into the water. The weather was warm, but the water was still cool, especially at this late hour. He thought to himself that, with luck, maybe it would chill his passions and cool his temper. He needed to relax, and to get Rana Michaels off his mind. He had done hi
s part to help her and Nathan; the rest was up to them. Maybe he was feeling a little jealous and left out; those two were so wrapped up in each other that they hardly noticed he was around. It sounded crazy, but he felt lonesome even in their presence! He dared not join them for fear of offending Rana and causing her to pull back from her grandfather while trying to avoid him. She had barely looked at him or spoken to him since they had had that enlightening talk with her. Funny, but he missed the way things had been going between them. The more he was around her, the more he wanted to get to know her, the more he wanted her.

  Travis eyed the faint glow of their campfire, confident that he had made certain no one was around to spot it. He swam downriver then, into the shadows near the other bank, and nonchalantly draped his arms over a fallen tree. He envisioned Rana lying in the glow of dying flames, the colorful light dancing mischievously on her flesh and hair. He closed his eyes and fantasized about her beckoning him with a sensual glance and parted lips. He would leisurely remove her garments and lower his naked body to hers. His lips would drift playfully over her eyes and ears before slipping down her throat and…His body began to respond to his provocative thoughts. But it did not matter how much he desired her, he told himself, because she was Nathan’s granddaughter. Perhaps it was her resemblance to Nathan that had touched him and softened him. With Nathan’s looks and blood, surely she could not be wicked. Yet Marissa had been, his keen mind debated.

  Hellfire, what did he know about women, he fumed, except bad things? After his problems with Elizabeth Lowry and Pretty Rabbit and Clarissa Caldwell’s grasping pursuit, the last thing he needed was more female trouble. As with the selfish and conniving Indian maiden, the perfidious and vindictive Elizabeth Lowry had nearly gotten him killed, and the avaricious Clarissa Caldwell wanted the Rocking C Ranch as much as—if not more than—she wanted him. Then there was all that nasty gossip about Marissa… Were all women vain, selfish, deceitful, insensitive bitches? he wondered sullenly.

  Considering the bad blood she might have inherited from her parents, Rana could be similar to the others. But if that assumption were accurate, he too could have been poisoned by his father’s evil blood. If only he could understand Rana or see what was lurking inside that clever head. If only he knew how much like Elizabeth, Clarissa, Pretty Rabbit, and Marissa she was…

  Rana looked at the deeply slumbering Nathan and smiled. He appeared so kind and loving, asleep or awake, and she was learning so much about him, from him. He was a giving, generous person. Over the years since her mother’s murder and her abduction, this man must have suffered terribly, she thought compassionately. Not knowing a loved one’s fate would surely be sheer agony. Her grandfather had had no way of knowing how lucky she had been after her second capture. While she had been living happily and freely with the Oglalas, her dear grandfather had been existing on torment and loneliness and fear, at least until Travis Kincade had entered his life. She could not truly imagine the anguish her grandfather had endured long ago, and she could not bring herself to cause him more pain and sadness now. In fact, he wanted to do everything she could to make up for those lost years.

  Rana knew Nathan had spoken the truth about her identity and the past. She believed he sincerely loved her and wanted her to return home with him. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, and perceive it from his spirit. Though she was still annoyed and hurt over their deceit, she was trying to accept their motives. As Travis had claimed, they had risked their lives to “rescue” her, and they had found a peaceful way to reclaim her. She would never have accepted or forgiven them if they had used soldiers to take her from the Oglalas.

  It also vexed her that Travis thought he had done the right thing, especially since his tactics had included beguiling her. She became angry each time she wondered if he had actually believed those awful stories about her. She could not deny that Nathan had justified Travis’s role in this scheme to reclaim her. Still, she did not like the way he had played his part, marrying her falsely and allowing her to be tempted by him. He had led her to believe she was bravely and honorably sacrificing herself to him to help her people. He had pretended she was worth a great price to him and had expected that she would be thrilled to be chosen by him. He had played with her vulnerable and naive emotions to keep his game a secret. He had made a fool of her, and she of herself, before her people. She asked herself if it mattered that he had been forced by Lone Wolf and persuaded by her grandfather to deceive her. Yes! she decided in annoyance. Yes, that irresistible rogue needed to be taught a lesson too, so he would never try to fool her again!

  Rana’s thoughts drifted to her Indian brother, Lone Wolf. She prayed that he and Myeerah would share a long and happy life, and she hoped to be able to visit them again one day. She thought of everything Soaring Hawk, Lone Wolf, and the Oglalas had done for her over the years. She prayed that they knew how much she loved them and appreciated their acceptance. She prayed urgently for their survival and peace.

  She wondered why Lone Wolf had insisted that Travis marry her, for he had known that the union would not be consummated or considered real where they were going. Had he done it to make Travis feel responsible for her safety and happiness, particularly if something were to happen to Nathan? Or had he sensed the strong attraction between them and feared they would yield to it without being joined? Lone Wolf was perceptive and cunning, so there would have had to have been a good reason for his curious term.

  Rana dreamily recalled the days since she had ridden away from the Oglala camp. She had always wanted the chance to prove herself and her skills. She had wanted to do exciting things, share dangerous adventures, help her people, and remain free. And yes, to live “wild” when the mood struck her! She had to admit that Travis and Nathan were providing her with the opportunities for which she had longed and had battled Lone Wolf to obtain. They were allowing her to help them in every way, to be like their partner on the trail. She had been given weapons and was expected to fight if necessary. They had permitted her to stand guard on several occasions. She knew she already possessed the “patience and self-control” Travis had questioned, for she had been forced to use them and hone them of late, though sometimes it had chafed her to practice them. Yet during the past few days she had come to realize that it was foolish to continue fighting what had been, what was, and what would be.

  Rana stood up and stretched her fatigued body. She had hoped Travis would have returned to camp by now so she could go refresh herself in the nearby river. Maybe she was being too hard on him, she mused. Maybe it was time to relent slightly, for if she did not, he might lose all interest in her, and she did not want that. She knew from the sly way he had been watching her that she had him worried. She frowned, realizing that it was not good for their scout to be distracted, especially by unfavorable thoughts of her. If she were careful and wily, by the time they reached the ranch she might have him wishing they were married under the white law…

  Rana smiled devilishly as she gathered her things. She concentrated on bringing Travis’s face to mind, a face that she could have stared at all day and all night, a face on which every feature was shaped and colored perfectly. There was so much beauty and strength of character revealed in his stunning features. His expressions always imprisoned so much emotion, emotion that was tightly controlled but straining for release. How she loved to see those leaf green eyes sparkle with mischief or glow with desire or darken with vexation, for they exposed how deeply and passionately he could feel. When they were riding swiftly, the wind would blow through his dark hair and arrange it in roguish waves, as if the wind were some playful female spirit who was enchanted by him and could not resist touching him. As a doeskin drawn snugly over a tanning frame, his golden brown flesh was stretched tightly over his muscular body. She longed to run her fingers over him from head to foot and enjoy that stirring blend of softness and firmness. He was every inch the stimulating and superior warrior.

  She remembered how his mouth had me
lted against hers and their tongues had danced together joyfully. She recalled how her body had reacted to the way his hands had moved over it. She wanted to experience those thrilling sensations again, for they had made her feel wild and free yet all the while a willing captive in his arms and under his control. If any man could tame Wild Wind, it would be Travis Kincade, for she was eager to surrender to his masterful touch.

  Rana had noted that Travis had disappeared amongst the trees to the left of their camp, so she now headed toward the right. She walked to what she considered a safe distance, knowing she should not stray far even for privacy. Laying her possessions aside, she leisurely undressed, for she doubted anyone would be sneaking about at such a late hour.

  Recalling the night she and Travis had touched passionately near a river, she stood on the bank for a few moments, stretching and flexing her body as sweet memories filled her mind. She inhaled the mingled fragrances nature provided and smiled dreamily, as if totally pleased with her life and her feelings. Rana braided her hair and, using a rawhide thong, secured the heavy plait to her head to avoid getting her hair soaked. Taking a cloth and soap Travis had bought for her at Fort Wallace, she gingerly made her way down the bank and into the water. She muffled a squeal as she discovered that the water was much cooler than she had imagined. She bravely splashed it on her quivering flesh, then hurriedly lathered from neck to knees. Lifting them one at a time, she soaped each leg and foot. Then she lathered her hands before tossing the cloth and soap on the bank. After washing and rinsing her face, she made her way into the deeper water to rinse off. In no hurry now, she swam around for awhile to exercise her stiff body and to warm herself.