Read Savage Betrayal Online

Authors: Theresa Scott

Tags: #Native American Romance

Savage Betrayal (47 page)

“Where?” demanded Thunder Maker. Hastily, the man told the locations where the enemy warriors had been spotted.

“I was right,” moaned Sarita. “It was a trick. He never intended to marry me at all!”

Catching a strange look on her father’s features, she turned away from the others only to come face to face with Fighting Wolf. It was evident from his cold expression that he’d heard the scout’s report.

“So,” challenged Thunder Maker. “You weren’t bluffing.”

“No,” answered the Ahousat war chief curtly.

Thunder Maker cleared his throat. “My son and I have decided to reconsider your marriage proposal for Sarita,” he announced in stentorian tones. Sarita swung around in surprise. What was her father up to now?

Fighting Wolf stood there watching her, a taunting smile on his face.

Ignoring him, she approached her father. “What are you talking about?” she fumed. “I’m not going to marry this Ahousat.”

“Sarita. Silence,” commanded her father.

“No, Nuwiksu. You listen to me.” She turned to face Fighting Wolf. “I will
not
marry you, and nothing you can say or do will convince me otherwise.”

If she was expecting her words to devastate him, she was gravely disappointed. Fighting Wolf continued to smirk at her as he asked her father casually, “I don’t suppose my warriors had anything to do with changing your mind?”

Thunder Maker coughed several times before regaining his composure. “It only seemed fair,” broke in Feast Giver, “since you were reconsidering my proposal for Precious Copper.”

Fighting Wolf turned to the younger man and saw the sincerity in his eyes. He felt a momentary pang of guilt at baiting the Hesquiats.

Before he could say anything else, Sarita interrupted sweetly, “Nuwiksu, what about the Kyuquot chief you were about to marry me off to? Have you forgotten?”

Her last hopes were dashed at her father’s next words. “We’ll potlatch him and send him away. He won’t leave here empty-handed,” he assured her.

“I don’t care whether the Kyuquot leaves here empty-handed,” Sarita hissed at her obtuse father. “I care that I’m not married off to this—this—“ She broke off when she saw the amused smile on Fighting Wolf’s face. Words failed her in her anger. She’d had enough.

Getting a grip on her temper, she stated through clenched teeth, “I have one last thing to say: I will not marry anyone! Can you understand that? Not the Kyuquot, because I loathe him, and not the Ahousat because I know he does not really intend to marry me!” With that, she stalked off to the longhouse.

Fighting Wolf watched her go.

“Ahousat,” began Thunder Maker before Fighting Wolf could make a move in the direction Sarita had taken, “If you can’t have Sarita will you attack this village?”

Fighting Wolf merely shrugged, wondering what the wily old man was up to.

Thunder Maker took his silence for assent. “Go to her, then,” advised the older man. “Surely you can convince her to marry you. My people’s lives are at stake and I won’t fight for her.”

Fighting Wolf looked contemptuously at the old chief. “Still ready to sacrifice your daughter for political purposes, aren’t’ you?” The fact that he, Fighting Wolf, would benefit from the old man’s maneuvers added guilt to the contempt.

“You’d make the same decision,” responded Thunder Maker firmly, his wise eyes watching the Ahousat. “Being chief is not easy. Were I to order my warriors to fight a battle whose outcome is already decided—“

At Fighting Wolf’s interrogatively raised eyebrow, Thunder Maker observed, “You and I both know that you have the superior military strength in this encounter. Why pretend otherwise?”

Fighting Wolf nodded his acquiescence to that factual statement.

“As I was saying, should I order my men to attack you, too many lives would be lost. It’s better to let one woman go than to lose more of my people. We’re too few as it is.”

“I’m glad you see things my way,” said Fighting Wolf smoothly.

“I do,” responded Thunder Maker. “Besides there’s something about you that reminds me of myself when I was younger.” He shook his head. “The Kyuquot would never be strong enough for Sarita. She’d quickly have him on his knees, whimpering.” Thunder Maker added, “Go, my son. Take your woman and leave here.”

Thunder Maker watched the younger man leave. He hoped he’d done the right thing for his people by giving in to the Ahousats demands so readily. It angered him to surrender to the crafty war chief once again. The memory of that debacle of a wedding ceremony still ate at him.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d told the Ahousat he reminded him of himself when younger. Only omitted that it was the ruthless, aggressive side of the war chief he’d identified with. Ah well…Thunder Maker was tired of the fighting, the revenge. It had almost destroyed his family once. He would not let it do so again. He sighed. Now it was up to Sarita…

Fighting Wolf departed, grinning. He caught up with Sarita in the longhouse. Taking her hand gently in his, he asked, “Sarita, will you walk with me one more time?”

She looked at him suspiciously, hearing the coaxing note in his voice. “You never give up, do you, Ahousat?”

“No.” He smiled ferally.

What would it matter to talk with him once more before he left? She’d never see him again. She’d have only her memories to keep her alive from this time onwards. Feeling she was making a mistake, but unable to stop herself, she weakened. “Very well. But we’ll walk on the beach, in plain sight of everyone,” she stated firmly. “I won’t have you seducing me again.” She flushed at her own reminder.

There was a twinkle in his jet eyes, but he said nothing as he led her out into the cool, gray day. She wrapped the cedar cloak more tightly around her as if for protection from the masculine threat at her side. He led her down the beach as far away from the grim, watching warriors as he could.

He halted beside an old, weather-beaten driftwood log that was protected by a gnarled, wind-twisted pine.

“Is this safe enough?” he asked sardonically. “Nearby you have the greatest of Hesquiat manhood to protect you.” He shot a disparaging glance at the stoical Hesquiat warriors shivering in the cool wind.

“You said you wanted to talk to me,” she reminded him bitingly. “Say what you have to say and get it over with. I want to go back to the longhouse where it’s warm.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” he said, reaching for her.

Nimbly, she backed out of reach. “I believe I’ll survive the cold for the short time I’ll be out here,” she observed sarcastically.

Fighting Wolf’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Instead, he squatted down near the driftwood log and looked out across the narrow inlet. “What are you going to do about the baby?” he asked.

“Baby?” she repeated, caught off guard. “Baby? What baby?”

“Don’t try and deny it, Sarita. I know you’re pregnant.”

“Me?” she scoffed shakily. “Me, pregnant?” Her voice ended in squeak. Then her shoulders drooped, and she asked in a leaden voice, “How—how did you know?”

He smiled. “I made love to you. Remember?” Seeing the stricken look on her face, he added, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how your stomach fits so wonderfully against my palm, how your breasts are fuller, how your—“ Seeing her blazing eyes, he broke off. Gently he asked, “What are you going to do with my child?”

“Your child?” she snapped. “What makes you think it’s your child, you arrogant bastard!”

His amused gaze focused on her face. “Perhaps it’s the Kyuquot’s, then?” he drawled.

“No!” she shouted vehemently. Her abrupt response to his taunt took them both by surprise.

“Sarita,” he said softly. “I know it’s my child.”

She was silent, then answered slowly, “Precious Copper.”

“What?”

“Precious Copper. That explains how you know, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it? She told you!” In her anger, Sarita jumped up from the log. When he didn’t deny it, she stated, “And I thought she was my friend! I should have known—“

“She is your friend,” he soothed. “If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have known where to find you.”

“That’s being a friend?” snapped Sarita. Her irony was obviously lost on Fighting Wolf. “I don’t see why you’re suddenly so concerned about your child,” she said, hoping to hurt him. “You were content enough to let him be born into slavery the last time we discussed his future!”

“At that time, you told me you weren’t pregnant. That your question was only for ‘curiosity,’ I believe you said.”

“I wasn’t certain that I was pregnant.” She sniffed haughtily. “Then.” She smiled at his slyly. “Are you still willing to let your child be born into slavery, Fighting Wolf? Because that’s what will happen if you drag me back to Ahousat.”

“No,” he answered. “I don’t want my child born into slavery.” The words you said so quietly that Sarita had to strain to hear them. In the silence that fell between them, Fighting Wolf turned to her and impaled her and his jet black eyes. “Sarita, I love you.”

“Love me?” she echoed. “Oh, Fighting Wolf, if only I could believe you.”

“It’s true,” he said. “I do love you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “You’re only saying that so I will believe your lies and you can complete your revenge.”

“Ah, yes. My revenge,” he said thoughtfully. “My revenge was completed some time ago.”

She looked at him, wishing his words were true. “Oh, Fighting Wolf—“ she moaned, struggling against her fears that this was just another trick.

“You ended my revenge,” he said solemnly.

“Me?”

“Yes. When I came back to Ahousat and learned you’d escaped, I was furious. I ranted and raved. My slaves were afraid to come near me for fear I’d kill them. I told myself I was so angry because you, a mere slave, had run away from me, a great war chief.” He laughed shortly.

“When word came that you and Precious Copper had been seen at this village, I was greatly relieved that you were safe, but my anger was still very strong. I set out with my men to rescue Precious Copper, but my main intent was to drag you back to Ahousat with me.”

“I knew it,” Sarita exclaimed triumphantly. “I knew it!” She faced him defiantly. “Well, I’m not going!”

Fighting Wolf eyed her thoughtfully. “As I said, I was intent on dragging you back with me. Everything went well until my men and I got caught in that terrible storm. We were paddling close to a very treacherous cape when the gale struck.” He shook his head. “The waves pounded at us, the wind blew us off course. I’ve seen a lot of bad storms in my life, come close to death once or twice, but this time—“

Sarita listened, her heart in her eyes. “What happened?” she asked weakly.

“I was washed overboard,” he answered briefly. “I was sure my life was over, that I would drown right there. As I was going under the waves, all I could think about was that I loved you and that I’d never see you again.” There was silence after his words.

Sarita didn’t know what to say. Slowly she began to hope that he was telling her the truth…Did he love her? Oh, if only…!

He continued, “Then someone tossed me a rope. I grabbed it and was hauled back to my canoe. Never in my life have I had such a close escape.” He shivered and Sarita could tell the memory still haunted him. She put her arms around him.

“Oh, Fighting Wolf. How terrible,” she sighed tremulously. “I’m so glad you weren’t drowned.”

He looked deep into her eyes and read the love reflected there. He held her tight. “It was then that I had to face the truth about myself. I wasn’t hunting you to bring back an escaped slave; I was hunting you because I loved you and wanted you back with me. Without you, there would be only emptiness in my life. I want you, Sarita,” he said softly. “Not as my slave, but as my wife.”

She pulled back at these words. “I…I need time—“ she began.

He drew away at her hesitancy. “Time?” he asked slowly, not understanding. “Haven’t you had enough time? What do you need more time for?”

He was becoming angry, she realized. He’d probably been expecting her to fall into his arms, she thought. “I…I need to be sure,” she began.

“Sure?” he bit off. With visible effort, he sought control of his temper. Finally, he was calm enough to say, “Sarita, I’ve told you my feelings. I’ve opened my thoughts to you in a way I’ve done for no other person, man or woman. If you can’t, or won’t have me, then I want to know. Now.”

“But our child--?”

“What about our child? I’ve told you I want our son. I want him free.”

“Do you, Fighting Wolf?” she asked bitterly. “Or do you use that as bait to drag me away from here?”

“Sarita,” he said impatiently. “What more do you want from me?”

She remained silent. She didn’t know herself what she wanted. Too much was happening, too fast. He said he loved her. Why couldn’t she believe him? At last she answered, “If you truly want your child born free, you’ll leave here.”

“Leave?”

“Yes. That will be the test, won’t it?” she asked, desperately. “You can’t take me away forcibly, or else I’ll be a slave again, and your son will be a slave. So, if you truly want freedom for your child, you must leave me free.”

“Or marry you,” he interrupted quickly.

“Fighting Wolf,” she said softly. She would call his bluff now. If he really intended to take her back into slavery, her answer wouldn’t matter to him. He’d overpower her and take her. If, on the other hand, he was sincerely concerned for his child, and sincerely wanted her as a wife, he’d be willing to give her freedom of choice as far as his proposal went. “The answer is ‘no.’”

He looked at her for a moment, his jet black eyes trying to pierce her golden ones and read her very thoughts. At last he said bitterly, “Very well. I’ve told you how I feel about you. I cannot, I
will
not crawl.”

With that he turned on his heel, and stalked back past the warriors who were standing around in various shades of alertness.

She watched him walk away, a huge lump forming in her throat. Fighting Wolf had let her go! Unbelievably he had let her go. He was abiding by her choice. She was safe, her child was free, but somehow she felt no triumph in her victory.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

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