Comanche Moon (38 page)

When they reached his lodge and Hunter leaped from the horse, sweeping her off with him and somehow managing to keep her clasped firmly in one arm, she knew the battle was lost. Digging in her heels, she strove to slow his advance on the doorway, but the force of his body swept her along before him like flotsam on a wave. Amy’s plight took second seat. If Loretta once entered that lodge, she might never emerge, and then both she and Amy would be doomed.

Behind them Loretta heard voices, coming closer and closer. Were some of those people going to follow Hunter inside? A sob broke from her throat when Hunter ducked beneath the door flap with no more difficulty than if she were an intractable child squirming in his grasp.

Never had she seen him this angry, not even the night she had injured his horse. She knew it was because she had lunged at him with the knife. But what choice had he given her? Was she to stand there and meekly accept whatever fate he visited upon her?

The interior of the lodge had grown darker, the edges shadowy and threatening. Hunter strode toward the bed, his long legs eating up the distance so quickly that she grew frantic. Thinking he meant to rape her, or worse, Loretta twisted in his arms to press a frontal attack, succeeding only in accommodating him when he fell with her in a full-length sprawl onto the furs.

Blanketed by his broad chest, she couldn’t move her torso, and before she could gather her wits to kick, he anchored her legs with his thigh. A blow to his face was likewise foiled when he captured both her wrists with one hand. She lay beneath him, chest heaving from exertion, her breath coming in short, painful gasps. He wasn’t even winded. She strained against him, praying for strength, finding none.

Seconds passed, fraught with tension. His dark face hovered above hers, stern and implacable, his features cast into harsh relief by the shadows. She couldn’t save herself, and she couldn’t save Amy.

He said nothing, did nothing, just stared down at her, his lips drawn into a relentless line. The longer she stared up at him, the bigger and more intimidating he seemed and the more breathlessly frightened she became. When she could bear the agony no longer, she cried, ‘‘What are you waiting for? Do it! Do it, blast you, do it!’’

His grip tightened on her wrists. With agonizing slowness, he grasped the bodice of her dress, his glittering gaze locked on hers. Her breath caught when she felt his arm tense. He intended to rip the dress off her. One look into his eyes told her that and more. He would show her no clemency this time. And she would plead for none. At least not for herself.

‘‘I trusted you,’’ she cried. ‘‘I
trusted
you.’’

The pain in her voice sliced through Hunter’s anger as nothing else might have. His gaze sharpened on hers as he remembered the accusations she had made a few moments ago and his certainty that Red Buffalo had filled her head with lies. Glancing down, he realized just how close he was to behaving like the animal she had accused him of being. ‘‘Blue Eyes, you will say to me this great truth you know.
Namiso,
now!’’

‘‘I’m finished playing your games. Finished, do you hear?’’

‘‘It will be finished when I have said it.’’ Loretta had never heard such venom in his tone. He made a visible effort to calm down, gentling his grip on her wrists and easing some of his weight off her. Relief flooded through her when he released his hold on her bodice. ‘‘No harm. You will make talk with me.’’

A wave of uncertainty coursed over her. He sounded so sincere. Only with great difficulty did she recall Amy’s recounting of her rescue. She closed her eyes. ‘‘Oh, Hunter, why have you done this? Does your hatred run so deep? A
twelve
-year-old.’’

‘‘My cousin, Red Buffalo, has said false words to you? If this is so, you will tell me.’’

‘‘As if you don’t
know
what he told me!’’

‘‘You made a lie of your promise and tried to flee,
this
is what I know! You came at me with a knife,
this
is what I know! You made me look the fool,
this
is what I know.’’

‘‘Oh, yes, you’re the man whose words are drifting on the wind, whispering to him always! The man who never lies! I
saw
you out there at the fire! How stupid do you think I am?’’

Grinding out the words between clenched teeth, he said, ‘‘Why did you make a lie of your promise?’’

‘‘Why wouldn’t I? A little girl, Hunter?
Animal!
Aunt Rachel was right all along.
I
am the fool!’’

He made a strangled sound in his throat and rolled off her, turning her loose to throw an arm across his eyes. Loretta tensed, casting a hopeless glance at the door. Even if she made it outside, her chances of saving Amy were slim.

In a taut, barely restrained growl he said, ‘‘Do not test me by trying to run, Blue Eyes. I will sure enough beat you.’’

After a moment he let out an audible breath and eased onto his side, folding an arm beneath his head, his blue eyes so dark they looked black in the dusky light. ‘‘You will make an echo of Red Buffalo’s words. I cannot fight an enemy whose face is hidden.’’

Hearing his voice, so silken and close, brought bittersweet memories rushing back to her, and she wanted to cry. ‘‘You let me think you were my friend.’’

Hunter studied her delicate profile, his attention coming to rest on her tremulous lips. Her voice ached with the pain of betrayal, but he felt betrayed as well. ‘‘Did I not bring you the child?’’

The tendons along her throat became distended, and her voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘‘Was it terribly difficult finding her?’’

‘‘I knew the path Santos would walk! I have traveled it many times to trade.’’

She clenched her hands into fists. ‘‘You
are
well acquainted, then? The two of you are friends!’’

‘‘
Ka,
no, I did not call him friend.’’

‘‘He called
you
friend. Amy heard him. She says you rode right into his camp, no guns, no fight, and took her away. How much did you pay Santos to steal her, Hunter? Twenty horses? Fifty? Or did he do it just for the fun of having her there for a few days— to entertain him and his friends?’’

The question hung between them, ugly and discordant, an insult to him, a heartbreak to her. Fresh anger surged up Hunter’s throat. He swallowed it down. ‘‘I paid him
nothing
.’’

‘‘Do you deny that your song says your yellow-hair must come to you? You took me home and taught me how to walk back to you in your footsteps!’’ Her voice rose, turning shrill. ‘‘You gave me a fine horse to ride! Do you deny that?’’

Confusion welled inside him. ‘‘You are angry because I teach you and give you gifts?’’

At last she wrenched her head around, her tear-filled eyes sparkling with contempt. ‘‘Like your medallion? ‘Wear it for always,’ you said. But it wasn’t as a remembrance! It was to mark me, so your filthy friend Santos wouldn’t steal the wrong yellow-hair. You
knew
how much I love Amy. You struck where I was most vulnerable, knowing I’d do anything to save her. I
trusted
you. You spoke of songs in our hearts and remembering for always. And I—’’

Her voice broke and trailed off into a squeak. For a moment he thought she might strike him, so deep went her pain, but then her face crumpled and the fight drained from her. She looked so forsaken, so frightened, that all he wanted was to hold her and soothe away her hurts.

‘‘I
believed
you, Hunter. Do you know how difficult that was for me? After what Comanches did to my parents? I betrayed their memory, trusting you. I turned my back on everything.’’

Hunter’s heart caught at the bruised, aching intensity he heard in her voice. Two large tears slipped over her bottom lashes and washed onto her cheeks, trailing in silver ribbons to her chin. He ran his hand into her cloud of tangled hair and drew her toward him, ignoring her resistance, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. She lay rigid against him, shaking violently. He dipped his head, the last traces of his anger dying.

Hunter had always known his cousin was a clever man, but he hadn’t known until now just how clever. Red Buffalo had dealt in half-truths, which lent his lies power. No wonder she had come at him with a knife. Would he not have done the same to save Blackbird or Pony Girl? The only difference between him and this frail woman was that he had more strength with which to do battle. A strength he had nearly used against her, just as she had once feared.

‘‘Ah, Blue Eyes.’’ His voice, muffled against her neck, went raw with emotion. ‘‘I made no tricks against you. My heart sings only good things. It is the truth I speak.’’

‘‘I
saw
you at the fire!’’

They were back to the fire again? Hunter tried to think what it was she thought she had seen. ‘‘I was at the fire, yes. This is bad?’’

‘‘You were announcing our marriage and promising your people you would scalp me and Amy! Just like Red Buffalo said you would! I saw you!’’

He couldn’t help but smile, imagining how it must have looked to her. ‘‘
Ka,
no. I told them of my battle with Santos, Blue Eyes.’’

‘‘But they cheered!’’

‘‘Because I fought and reclaimed your Aye-mee’s honor. They cheered for my courage, eh? And my victory. There was no talk of marriage. You are a White Eyes.’’

"Y-you reclaimed Amy’s honor?’’ She stiffened. ‘‘But she said you visited with Santos, and then you just rode away. That there wasn’t a fight!’’

‘‘Santos was very much afraid, eh? He had wronged a fierce warrior of the Quohadie. He feared for his life when he saw me. He called this Comanche his good friend to chase away my anger. After I tended your Aye-mee and she slept, I rode back to Santos’s camp. He will make her weep no more.’’

She arched away from him so she could study his face. He knew she wasn’t aware of how her hips pressed against his, of the effect her nearness had on him.

‘‘Then it was all lies? None of it was true?’’

He traced the fragile cordillera of her vertebrae through the cloth of her dress. ‘‘Red Buffalo has great bitterness. Many
taum
ago, the Blue Coats rode down on our village when most of our warriors were away on a hunt. Red Buffalo’s wife and little son were—’’ Hunter’s throat tightened. His own memories of that attack were almost too painful to bear, and speaking of them didn’t come easily. ‘‘His wife was shot. His son was trampled, not once, but many times. Red Buffalo’s heart was laid upon the ground. After that day, he made fierce war, yes?’’

‘‘But I’m not a Blue Coat!’’

‘‘His hatred is blind, Blue Eyes. During one of his many raids, Red Buffalo was captured. The White Eyes wished to know where his village was, and they held his face over a cooking fire to loosen his tongue.’’

‘‘Oh, God.’’ Nausea roiled through Loretta’s stomach. ‘‘His face—that’s how he became scarred?’’

‘‘He remained loyal to the People. The
tosi tivo
were determined. When he escaped and made his way back to us, he was ugly, as he is now. So ugly that all women turn from him. There will be no new wife for him, no second son. He stands alone for always, and seeks solace in fighting the great fight.’’

‘‘But why take it out on me? I’ve done nothing to him, nothing.’’

Hunter rolled onto his back, taking her with him. He loved the feel of her slender length pressed against him. Running his hands into her hair, he held her face inches above his own so he could search her eyes. It pleased him to see compassion and pity shining there. She was as golden within as she was without. After all Red Buffalo had done to her, Hunter was surprised she could still feel sorry for him.

‘‘I am Red Buffalo’s good friend from childhood, his beloved cousin, as your Aye-mee is to you. He fears that you will steal this Comanche away from him, that my heart will turn against him and he will be left behind. An ugly man, alone forever, with no one. You understand? He cannot see past his hate.’’

‘‘But I—’’ She splayed her fingers on his chest, shoving with the heels of her hands to lever herself away from him. Hunter tensed his arm at her waist to hold her. He wondered if she was aware of his hardness. Then he felt her heartbeat accelerate and had his answer. He bit back a tender smile. If only she knew how easily he could see her thoughts, like pebbles at the bottom of a clear pool. ‘‘Why would he think
I’d
steal you away? I’m the one victimized, the one who left her family.’’

‘‘This saddens your heart?’’

‘‘Of course!’’

‘‘You must not be sad. This Comanche will bring your family to you many times.’’

‘‘Here? No, Hunter, they will never come here to see me.’’

‘‘Then I will take you to their wooden walls. I want no sadness in your heart.’’

He felt some of the rigidity leave her and knew he had said the right words. ‘‘Oh, Hunter, I
want
to believe you. You can’t imagine how much.’’

He flexed, as if he meant to set her aside and rise. ‘‘I will bring you Santos’s scalp and the silver from his breeches.’’

Her eyes widened, and the color washed from her face. ‘‘Mercy, no. I don’t want to see his scalp.’’

‘‘You believe?’’ He met her gaze, keeping his face solemn, though the horrified expression on hers made it difficult. ‘‘The scalp is in my bags. Proof, yes?’’

‘‘I— I don’t need to see it.’’ The tension drained from her, and she relaxed against him. ‘‘I believe you. Why would you bother lying?’’ Her eyes darkened. ‘‘What would you gain?’’

‘‘Your ruffles?’’ He watched her face and knew the moment when she realized he was teasing her. ‘‘You said I could steal them, yes?’’

‘‘As I recall, we decided you should take them when I wasn’t
in
them.’’

He ran a knuckle along the shadowy contour of her jaw. She tipped her head to press her cheek into his palm, tears spilling in sparkling splendor from her eyes. ‘‘Oh, Hunter, I should have trusted you. I’m so sorry. After all you’ve done for us, how will you ever forgive me?’’