Sweet Savage Heart (27 page)

Nathan warned, “Don’t take chances like that, girl.”

“We must get many of them before they rush us, Nate. When their courage or anger mounts, they will charge like furious buffalo. We cannot shoot that fast; they would capture us. We must show them we lack all fear and are skilled fighters.”

“Darnit, Rana, you’re just a young girl,” he reasoned.

“Today, I am a warrior,” she refuted, then grinned. She readied another arrow and peered around the rock. A burst of gunfire greeted her curiosity. This time when it lessened, she bounded to her feet and fired at the man wiggling toward them on his belly. He howled and rolled over as the arrow embedded itself in his neck.

At that same moment, Nathan fired several times but missed the swiftly moving target that changed positions as the man worked his way closer to them.

For a time, both sides held their fire and the silence grew loud around them. Rana strained her ears to hear every noise, knowing the silence meant danger. Suddenly gunfire came from both sides, causing Rana and Nathan to turn back to back to answer it. Nathan’s horse panicked and raced off, but Rana’s loyal steed held his ground, moving about nervously as he sensed the danger. Nathan experienced a surge of fear for the safety of his granddaughter and fired wildly into the trees. Rana released two arrows and one lethally found its target in the man whom she had wounded earlier. She withdrew her knife from its sheath then and placed it nearby, for she had only one arrow left.

Another burst of gunfire captured their attention, preventing them from seeing the man who had slipped into the creek and was working his way below bank level to flank them. Slowly and silently he crawled on his stomach up the bank and inched his way toward Rana,
knowing the old man, whom he assumed was her father or grandfather, would surrender once he grabbed the girl and put a knife to her throat. As the man neared Rana, something happened that he had not anticipated; Cloud reared, whinnied, and attacked him, for Rana’s horse had been trained to defend her from peril.

Confusion broke out. The other men rushed them as Rana had predicted. Nathan fired, killing another one of their attackers just as he made a grab for Rana’s arm. Rana accidentally discharged her last arrow when the man had grabbed her arm. Quickly she flung the useless bow aside, scrambled for her knife, and immediately engaged herself in a scuffle with the man who was being nipped by Cloud. During their fierce struggle, the knife was kicked out of her reach.

Several shots rang out and suddenly her beloved Cloud fell dead, his red blood standing out boldly against his white hide. For a time, Rana was frozen with shock and anguish, but she was spurred into action again when the dripping man lunged at her, sneering, “I’ll get you, you little bitch.”

Nathan’s gun was empty and there was no time to reload. He grabbed the man as he shouted, “Run, Rana! Hide till Travis returns.”

Rana knew the only way she could help Nathan and save herself was by securing another weapon. With men closing in on them from three sides, all she could do was fling herself over the rocks and make a dash for the weapon on the man who had fallen in the clearing. Nathan delivered a stunning blow into a wounded man’s abdomen and quickly raced around the rocks to defend Rana’s back and aid her escape. The three remaining men instantly pursued them.

“Back to back!” she called out to Nathan, tightly grasping the knife she had yanked from the dead man’s sheath.

Nathan drew his own blade as he followed her clever suggestion, for flight had become impossible. The slender girl pressed her shoulders against Nathan’s, standing poised for an attack that she thought would come quickly, though it did not. Her dress had been ripped and dirtied, and wisps of fiery hair had escaped her braids. To the men, she was a wild, stunning creature who provoked heady lust as they appreciatively and lewdly eyed her up and down, then grinned at each other.

“Well, well,” the leader of the outlaw band murmured as he licked his lips in anticipation of having this entrancing vixen. “Looks like you got something more valuable than money or horses, old man. You two might as well give up, ‘cause we ain’t.”

“Sunka ska!”
Rana shouted, called him a white dog, then spat on the ground to show her contempt for them. She narrowed her wintry blue eyes to expose her determination to stand her ground and battle them. Surprise registered on the leader’s face and he studied her once more.

“A white girl who speaks Sioux and uses a bow like that?” the second man called Curly queried suspiciously. “You men know what that means. Girl, if you weren’t such a looker, we wouldn’t touch none of them Sioux’s leavings. How long was you their captive? You two escape them Injuns, or did the old man here trade for you?”

“You lay one finger on my granddaughter and I’ll cut off your hand,” Nathan threatened rashly, but Rana was too alarmed by their peril to take his slip seriously. “You boys best git while you can. When my grandson gets back with those soldiers, you’ll be in deep trouble.”

“You sure do talk big when the odds ain’t in your favor, old man.”

“What we jawin’ and waitin’ for? Let’s take ‘em. I got me a bad itch what needs scratchin’,” announced the
third man, named Buck.

“Me too,” Curly agreed readily.

“Curly, you and Buck slow down. We ain’t had this much fun in a long time. They can’t stand there all day like that.” The three men began to slowly, playfully circle Nathan and Rana, laughing and grinning and eyeing them like helpless prey in a steel trap.

Buck did not follow Fess’s advice. “Come on, girly, let’s me and you get to know each other better,” he said and reached for her.

In the blink of an eye, Rana had reacted skillfully by cutting a long gash on Buck’s arm. He howled in pain and retreated a few steps, glaring at Rana in disbelief. “You little savage,” he sneered as he yanked his bandanna from his neck to wrap it around the gaping wound.

When Curly lunged forward Rana brought up her foot and kicked her new attacker in the groin. Almost with the same movement, she scooped up a handful of dirt and flung it into Buck’s eyes. For a time, both men were disabled.

Nathan reacted spontaneously by throwing his knife into Fess’s chest. Then he sprang forward to yank the blade from the man’s body and stab him again. Enraged by Nathan’s assault and his agony, Fess battled him with all his strength. Bloody blows were exchanged, and the men fell to the earth to continue their desperate struggle.

Before Curly could recover from the nauseating kick to his privates, Rana seized the dead man’s rifle and delivered a staggering blow to Curly’s jaw with the wooden butt. She heard bone and teeth shatter as the man fell backwards, trying to decide which injury to hold.

Buck had cleared his eyes enough to focus on the girl who was fighting them like a skilled soldier or a highly trained warrior. He grabbed her from behind and shook her back and forth as she kicked at his shins and clawed at
his hands. “You dadburn wildcat. You’re gonna be plenty sorry afore I finish with you.” He whirled her around and landed a forceful slap across her flushed face, sending her staggering backward and to the ground. Buck made a diving leap on her before she could roll free, straddled her, and pinned her shoulders to the ground. He cursed as he tried to control the thrashing female.

Fess vowed coldly, “I’m gonna kill you, old man, after you watch what we’re gonna do to that little bitch of yours.”

Curly’s head cleared and he ignored his pain in his attempt to get at Rana. He knocked Buck aside, shouting, “This gal is mine! She’ll wish she’d stayed with them savages afore I let her loose,” he threatened ominously as he flung himself on her. He imprisoned her hands beneath his legs and started slapping her and pulling her hair as he cursed her vulgarly.

Buck grabbed Curly’s right arm and yelled, “Don’t kill ‘er afore we get to use her! You can punish her later. Let’s git that dress off and git at ‘er. She owes us plenty.”

As Curly eased the pressure on her arms, Rana jerked them free and slammed her head into his broken jaw. In torment, Curly fell to his back and rolled wildly as his hands gripped his battered face.

Before Buck could seize Rana, Travis suddenly appeared behind him. He yanked him around and pounded him violently with both fists. Rana tried to stand to locate a weapon, but Curly’s hands went around one ankle and impeded her search. Though she stomped on his arm and kicked his ribs, Curly held on tightly.

Travis hastily drew a knife from his boot and ended Buck’s threat to anyone. As he moved to assist Rana, his keen eye caught Nathan’s greater peril. Fess was hovering over the older man with a knife poised and ready to take Nathan’s life. In what appeared to be one fluid movement, Travis dropped to one knee, drew his
pistol, shot Fess, whirled on the ground, changed knees, yanked the second knife from his other boot, and threw it forcefully, striking Curly in the middle of his back before he could hit Rana again.

Except for the erratic respiration of the three weary survivors, deathly silence filled the clearing. Travis hurried over to Rana and asked, “Are you hurt?” His green gaze roamed her dirtied, bruised face, and he berated himself harshly for allowing such danger to befall her and Nathan.

Now that the threat had passed, reality set in on Rana. Her wide eyes scanned the area, taking in the death that surrounded them, death for which she was partly responsible. She had never killed anyone until today, and that realization staggered her senses. She looked at her bloody hands and ruined dress. Her face was sore and her body ached. She knew she looked terrible. The aftereffects of facing such grim hostility and near-death struck her deeply. She was so far from home, in a land where evil whites lived and preyed on innocent people, and she was heading for a land where her new destiny loomed as a dark shadow over her head. Her control was sorely strained and she trembled and wanted to weep, but she hated to expose such fear and weakness. Without answering Travis, she walked around the rocks and stared at Cloud’s body before sinking to the ground beside it. She stroked his head and neck as tears ran down her cheeks.
“Mahpiya, Mahpiya,”
she murmured in anguish, dropping her forehead to his neck to sob.

Travis and Nathan followed her and observed the tormenting scene. Travis fell to one knee beside her and gently stroked her hair as he said tenderly, “Come away from him, Rana. Don’t punish yourself this way.” He tried to pull her into his arms to comfort her. “I’m sorry,
micante.
I should have…”

Enveloped in anguish and consumed by belated shock,
Rana lifted a tear-streaked face and glared at him. Why was he always so loving and enticing at the wrong times? she wondered irrationally. She was not “his heart,” for he had rejected her! She interrupted him coldly, “You should have protected us. Or returned to help us.
Mahpiya
is dead. I hate all white-eyes! Do not touch me again, half-breed!”

Travis winced from what seemed to him a just attack. He too felt he was to blame for permitting her injuries, for endangering her life and Nathan’s, and for getting Cloud killed. Sadness and remorse etched lines into his darkly tanned face and dulled his emerald eyes. When Nathan gently grasped his shoulder and wisely suggested, “Leave her be awhile, son,” Travis looked up at him and nodded.

The two men walked away to talk privately. Nathan recounted their fierce struggle, telling Travis how bravely and cunningly Rana had fought. “I have to confess, son, I was plenty scared for us.”

Together they checked the area and found seven men dead, three by Rana’s hand, which did not include the injuries she had inflicted on two of the last attackers. Travis knew she was experiencing shock from the encounter and grief over her loss, but still her sharp words had cut him deeply. He understood how she must be feeling and he longed to comfort her. If she had not been trained to defend herself by Lone Wolf…He shuddered, refusing to complete that horrifying thought.

“We’d better get this mess cleared away, Nate, and move on. We can’t let nervous soldiers find Indian
arrows in these stinking deserters and blame the wrong side. I don’t want innocent Cheyenne attacked because of these scum. You get cleaned up and pack your gear. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Nathan smiled warmly. “I’m fine, son. A little bruise here and there, but nothing to keep me down or still. You should have seen her in action, Travis. She put me to shame,” he declared proudly.

“I saw part of it and my heart nearly stopped. When I heard gunshots, I couldn’t get here fast enough. Then I didn’t know who to help first. I didn’t have much choice when I saw that knife gleaming over your head. I shouldn’t have been gone so long.”

“You can’t be everywhere and do everything, son. If it weren’t for Rana and you, I would be dead, so don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“If it weren’t for you, Nate, I would have been dead seven years ago,” Travis responded. “Nothing excuses my carelessness today. I knew how dangerous this area was, and I shouldn’t have left you two alone. Evidently my instincts aren’t as sharp as they used to be. There was a time when no man could sneak up on me,” he stated in disgust.

Nathan examined Travis closely, for something was eating at the younger man. “You’re bleeding, son. Let me bind that cut before we get busy.”

Travis glanced absently at the wound, having forgotten about it. He knew it needed tending, so he did not reject Nathan’s assistance. He removed his shirt and sat on a rock, his mind on the suffering girl.

“This isn’t a knife cut, Travis. How did you get this wound? Nobody fired a gun except you,” Nathan probed, suspicious.

“Like I said, Nate, my instincts are off these days. I caught up with those renegades, but they had doubled back on me. I was hit and lying on the ground before I
knew they were behind me. That’s what took me so long to return.”

Nathan realized that Travis’s survival and return meant that he had fought and overcome his red-skinned assailants. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. That proves you haven’t lost anything. Except maybe a little pride,” the older man added, chuckling.