For the first time in his warrior's life, the idea held a certain appeal.
Not that he would ever act on it. Not without his people by his side.
"It is your Wagon Men who will not stand a chance, " he said, deadly serious, "if they try to take you from me. "
He tipped her face to his and bent down to give her one of the kisses he knew she cherished. Her lips were soft and yielding. A tiny tremor ran through her as he claimed her mouth.
Let them try to take her from me.
Sally stepped back from the sensual assault Standing Bear was putting her mouth through, afraid if she gave in to him completely, she would lose all ability for thought and reason.
"Please, wait. We need to talk about this. "
She couldn't believe she was actually entertaining the notion of running off with a wild Arapaho Indian. Lord, she would probably be dead within a month, if not by the hand of his tribesmen, or a stray cavalry bullet, then from the weak, helpless state his carnal use would surely put her in.
Not that that last part sounded so bad...
"Come here. " Standing Bear knelt and poured icy water over her thighs with cupped hands. "I will wash you and then we will go. My companions--"
His head jerked up at the sound of a distinctive bird call coming from deep within the forest. "We must hurry, " he said, and proceeded to cleanse her quickly but thoroughly.
She blushed at the intimate caress of his fingers and shivered at the chilly water spilling over the sensitive area. But it felt so good, she sank to her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Maybe there were other means to convince a man. One way or the other, she had to talk him into letting her go.
She would be nobody's slave. Not in this lifetime. She'd seen enough slaves on the Virginia plantations surrounding her gramma's farm to know that was not what she wished from life. Her family had never believed in the horrible practice of owning other human beings. The war raging over this very issue was the reason she'd been forced to flee her Southern home.
But she didn't want to leave Standing Bear without tasting him one last time.
She parted her lips and teased him with her tongue until he made a strangled sound and opened to her. She led the kiss, showing him with her mouth how much she had savored his loving.
The water swirled around them, the current rapid and cold. Sharp rocks jabbed into her knees, but she didn't care. She would miss this man with all her heart. If only he were white, one of the many single men on the wagon train heading for a new life out West, as she was. It was so unfair that the man she had given herself to, the man she found herself inexplicably drawn to, was forbidden to her. A man who would keep her as a slave.
A second bird called out from the opposite side of the stream. Standing Bear broke the kiss, glancing around.
"Get dressed, " he ordered abruptly and tugged her to her feet. "They are coming. "
"Who?" she asked nervously, struggling to keep up with him as he strode up the bank.
He cupped his hands to his mouth and the air was filled with the loud, shrill whistle of a third strange birdcall.
"What was that for?" she said, plucking her clothes from the bush and feeling to see if they were dry. Satisfied they were, she slipped her camisole over her head.
"I'm calling the others. " He'd pulled his leggings on, tucked in his loincloth, and was working on tying his chest plate. He eyed her.
She glanced down. A mixture of embarrassment and illicit pleasure filled her at the sight of her own half-clothed body.
There was something very sexy about standing in front of a man, her breasts covered in thin lawn but her curly intimate triangle exposed to his eyes. Standing Bear's reaction was powerful, immediately visible beneath the soft leather at his groin.
With a choke, he turned determinedly and swiped up the knife from the ground, and the blanket as well. "Cover yourself. "
Inordinately pleased, she nevertheless did as she was bid. She'd just finished fastening the top button of her dress when three Indian warriors galloped pell mell into the clearing, horses snorting and weapons flashing in the sun.
They pulled to a stop, glanced at Standing Bear, then spurred toward her, circling her with rearing, outlandishly painted horses. Yelping war cries at the top of their lungs, they swung clubs and tomahawks over their heads. One brave pulled his rifle from its holster and shook it in the air. Then he pointed it right at her.
She took one look at his harsh, glittering eyes and sank to the ground in a dead faint.
Chapter Three
With narrowed gaze, Standing Bear watched his companions circle his captive on their ponies. He knew Two Otters would not fire. They were too close to the wagons. His friend Whistling Hills and Black Crow, the Cheyenne who'd joined them for the trading mission, looked more surprised at finding him with a white woman than eager for trouble.
When Pale As Moonlight's spirit fled and she started to fall, Standing Bear moved like lightning and caught her before her head hit the ground.
"I claim her, " he said, and watched the men's reactions. He lifted her limp body across his arms and stood, defying any one of them to challenge his right to the woman.
"Have you gone crazy?" shouted Whistling Hills, who had known him since his first winter, a look of horror on his face.
"We will all have a turn and then we will kill her, " said Two Otters, dismounting with the grace of a cat, still holding his rifle trained at her -- and him.
Pale As Moonlight stirred. Standing Bear cradled her against his chest, adjusting her weight. She murmured something unintelligible and her eyes fluttered open, gazing up at him with slow recognition. She smiled, then gasped as she remembered what had happened, her body going rigid when she spotted the three warriors closing in on them. An unexpected wave of protectiveness swept over him. He would not let them hurt her.
Everyone spoke at once, loudly. He knew it was a mark of the extraordinary situation that the usual calm council between warrior brothers did not reign. Standing Bear carefully let the woman's feet drop to the ground and held her while she gained her legs before he quietly interrupted the chaos.
"She is mine. She comes with us. "
She slid around behind his back, her trembling hands clutching his waist like a drowning child. He was gratified at the way she hid herself from the other men's prying eyes, telling them she belonged to him alone.
"She will leave her scent like a bitch in heat, " Two Otters snarled. "And the white dogs will track us down for violating her. They will kill us and everyone in our village. Better to put a knife in her heart right here and now. "
"The village is well hidden. The whites will never find us. "
Whistling Hills laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do not do this thing, my friend. You must think of the mission. Many are counting on a good trade with the wagons. Without the exchange of our hides and dried meat for their cloth, blankets and trinkets, we will have nothing to offer when the Pawnee come to trade their crops. Then we must live on buffalo. "
Whistling Hills might as well have said, 'Then we must live on thin air, ' for they all knew how hard the buffalo were to find these days. It was the only reason their band had joined with the Cheyenne to organize a trading mission with their mutually sworn enemy, who had recently begun bringing their trail of wagons through the territory.
Standing Bear sloughed off his friend's hand and ground out, "Then we shall live on buffalo. I will have her. "
His head ached. He shouldn't have to think about something as natural as keeping a woman. It was the way things had always been done, since ancient times. Always, until the white man came -- along with their unnatural weapons and wagons and their unnaturally hostile reaction to the abduction of their women. Against these, the ancient ways of the Indian did not stand a chance.
A sickening feeling settled in his stomach. Could he really sacrifice the welfare of his people for the sake of his misplaced lust? For that was all this white woman meant to him. A sweet, warm receptacle to slide his hungry cock into. Nothing more.
He wouldn't let her mean more.
"Have you had a dream?" Whistling Hills asked.
He was tempted to lie. To say he had. For that would close the discussion right there, and they could mount up and ride back to the village in agreement, Pale As Moonlight behind him on his pony, regardless of the consequences.
He shook his head regretfully. "No dream. "
"Then let's kill her and be done with it. She'll tell the Wagon Men where we are, what you have done. " Two Otters' obscene gesture told him exactly what the man thought had transpired. "What we all did... " He took a step toward them, his rifle still raised.
Up to that point, the Cheyenne had remained silent, observing. Ignoring Two Otters' threat, he now spoke up.
"Cloud Man, " Black Crow said, at once reminding Standing Bear of his place within his people, Black Crow's own position as honored guest among them, and the respect due the man's age and status from all three of the younger braves. "Cloud Man, let us sit and we will all speak our hearts on this matter. "
Sally shifted nervously, sitting astride Standing Bear's horse. He'd led her over and hoisted her onto its back what seemed like hours ago. Ever since, the four Indian men had been sitting on their haunches in a tight circle, arguing and glaring at each other. She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what they were discussing so vehemently.
Her.
They were deciding whether to take her away as a captive or just kill her and be done with it.
What a fate to choose between.
Four months earlier, her gramma had pressed what little money she'd saved into Sally's hand, insisting that she and Alyssa leave Virginia, just so the sisters wouldn't be forced to endure a similar doom there. Units of unruly Union soldiers made regular forays to their area, wrecking havoc on crops, livestock and any young women they ran into. The Confederates knew of the family's long-time stand against slavery, so they were regularly harassed by them as well. It was only a matter of time before one of the sisters was subjected to a fate neither she nor Alyssa cared to contemplate. So they'd reluctantly agreed to the long trek West, to the home of a distant cousin in far-off California.
Sally thought of the sacrifice her aging gramma had made in order to keep her only granddaughters safe. She must survive her present ordeal, if only for Gramma's sake.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Sally fingered the odd wooden, sword-like club hanging from a leather strap over the horse's withers. It was painted and decorated all along its edges with feathers. A strange-looking weapon. Beside it hung a sheathed Winchester rifle. For a brief second, she considered lifting the gun and shooting her way out of this, but decided she didn't stand a chance of living through the attempt. With her shooting skills, she could kill one of them, maybe two, before they returned fire. But not four. And not Standing Bear. No matter what he intended, she could never kill him.
But what of him? Would he use that rifle on her today? Or would she live out her days sleeping in a tepee, playing servant and concubine to a savage renegade? She bit back the tears that threatened.
No. That was unfair. There was nothing savage about Standing Bear. Yes, it was true he'd taken her virginity, and would probably have done so even if she hadn't wanted it herself. But she'd never met a man so gentle and thoughtful in all his ways, despite his overpowering strength. Or so passionate. Or so deeply, provocatively sexual. He had but to glance her way and she was wet and longing for his touch.
It was she who was the renegade, ready to throw herself under a stranger, a wild red Indian, and slake his every lusty urge at a moment's notice. She was a wicked, wicked woman. A lascivious wanton who deserved everything she got and more.
She nearly tumbled to the ground when, suddenly, the men rose as one and went for their horses. Standing Bear jumped up behind her, slid an arm around her waist and pulled her back to fit her body against his. He didn't say a word, his face grim, but simply fell in with the others as they wheeled and nickered to the horses, moving out as a tight unit.
With one hand on the reins, he used the other to unfasten a couple of buttons on her dress. He slipped his hand inside, fondling her breast as they rode. The heat of arousal mingled with embarrassment when she noticed the other men watching with interest.
"What's going to happen to me?" she asked timidly, growing more aroused and more nervous by the minute. Her nipple was long and achingly tight between his fingers. What would he do next? And did he plan on doing it in front of his friends?
He continued to play with her for a while before he answered, and she thought maybe he'd just ignore her question. But after several breathless minutes, he buttoned up her dress, tucked the bear claw necklace into it, and said, "Plans have changed. "
Her heart quailed. "Changed? How?"
He refused to say more. She swallowed heavily.
She would die. She knew it had been decided.
They arrived at a small clearing at the base of a hill, surrounded by tall trees. Her heart pounded like heavy artillery when Standing Bear handed her down from the horse and slid off beside her. Glancing at the others, she wondered if they would rape her before she died. She trembled with fright as he led her to the edge of the trees and stood to face her.