Never Surrender (3 page)

Weariness attacking her, Kate curled up closer to the
fire for warmth. Though they were in a wooded area, the trees blocked little of
the wind, and the cold seeped into her body. Thoughts of Brandon invaded her
mind and she remembered how the sound of his voice had created the feeling of warm
silk. Had that actually happened today? It seemed so long ago. For some unknown
reason, the sound of her captor’s voice made her feel the same way, and they
both wore their hair alike, but what could the connection be? They both also
made her feel the same comforting feeling when they spoke, but she dared not
let him know how his voice affected her. Yet, though his voice might be
comforting, his actions so far were not.

Unseen crickets chirped in the night.

The fire hissed and snapped. Kate watched the orange
flames lick at the crackling, glowing logs that sent red embers floating toward
the flickering stars. A wave of sleepiness washed over Kate, and her eyes
finally closed against her will as she snuggled into her blanket and breathed
in the smell of the open fire.

Sometime later, warmth at Kate’s back startled her
from her sleep. Before she reached a full sitting position, an arm with the
strength of a bear trap encircled her waist, dragging her back down against the
ground and the firmness of a warm chest. The cold hand of fear gripped her
heart and she struck out at the arm of steel with all her might. As quick as a
trap, he confined her wrists atop one another in a tight grip. Sharp pains shot
through her delicate bones as if they were breaking, and she cried out from the
pain.

He loosened his hold some. Then with a shake of her
wrists, he growled, “Yuu napi. Ne eppeimi’a.”

Glancing beyond the glowing embers of the once-blazing
fire, Kate noted the smaller warrior lay asleep across from her. She wondered
if her whole body shook with fear or just her insides. Or was it something else
that tightened every muscle? The stranger in a brown duster again came to mind,
his blue eyes had penetrated hers. Even now, her heart raced at the memories.

She wiggled her cold, numb fingers and to her
surprise, his grip loosened enough for her to move them. Then his hand slid to
her waist, splaying his fingers over her stomach, securing her where she lay.
Her heart beat like butterfly wings. Kate held her breath, not wanting to
experience the melting at her woman’s center. He’d captured her and could rape
her should he choose, yet she couldn’t explain the sensual betrayal of her own
body. And damn the musky scent of his body that drifted her way. She couldn’t
remember the last time she’d been with a man but she yearned to be touched and
caressed. The way he’d watched her sometimes told her more than he meant to,
she was sure.

His breathing evened out as he slept. Though she
detested this man for not releasing her, she was thankful for his warmth; if
she could only stop her rapid heartbeat and the fluttering in her stomach. She
decided to remain still and sleep once again overtook her.

Later, when something struck the bottom of Kate’s
boot, her eyes snapped open to bright sunshine. Instantly she regretted it.
Protecting her eyes against the sunlight, she met the dark eyes of the smaller
warrior.

“Oh, God!” She sighed, realizing this was no
nightmare, but hard, cold reality.

The warrior held a hard, crusty biscuit out to her. She
closed her eyes, shook her head in disgust, then opened her eyes as she sat up
to accept it, knowing she might travel all day without another bite.

Kate glanced around. The taller warrior knelt next to
the pouches, his back to her, packing to move on.

The man who’d offered her the biscuit stared at her
and she took the opportunity to speak her mind. “I’ll be heading down the
mountain today, alone, but thank you for the food.”

She rose with her blanket around her shoulders, and
strode away, not looking back. Perhaps they would allow her to leave. Long
strides carried her into the distant trees to descend the mountain, only to
collide with the hard body of the shorter Indian who appeared in front of her.
He pointed behind her, toward her other captor.

“Hakappu mi’akwanto’i mai e suakka?”

The angry shout of her taller captor caught her
attention, stiffening every muscle in her body before she even turned around.
If they wanted her to understand, they should speak English. Damn them! The man
before her raised a brow, waiting for her to move.

These men frightened her, but if she showed it,
perhaps things would be worse. Releasing a disgusted moan, Kate clenched her
fists and turned to walk toward the smoldering fire pit. The taller warrior
strode away, and she glanced at the man behind her, who pointed in his
companion’s direction.

“No!” Kate shouted, but he prodded her shoulder,
forcing her to take a few more steps, only to stop again. Shaking her head and
widening her eyes, she had enough. “No, I’m not going up that mountain with
you. Why can’t you just release me?”

His gaze appeared as determined as her own, and he
slowly reached for the knife sheathed at the waist of his buckskin leggings.
Her breath caught as new fear seized her stomach, knotting it.

Kate held up her hands in protest. “Fine...I’m going.”

She walked with the Indians, their horses trailing
behind while they traveled through a thick forest. A meadow before them on the
mountainside ended at the dense forest line ahead. Above the trees, snow covered
the mountain’s peak, amazing Kate at its height. Though sunshine began to warm
the morning, she knew the weather would grow cooler the higher they traveled.
Reluctant, she trudged on through the meadow, then followed the warrior already
entering the woods on the meadow’s far side.

She turned around to look one last time from where
they had come. A stream snaked through the beautiful green valley below,
weaving itself around sparsely scattered trees and bushes. A warm, sage-scented
breeze caught at her hair, blowing it back from her face as she began to walk,
sending warmth into her cold, stiff muscles.

Hours later, the soles of her feet tender, Kate
refused to give in to her need for rest, hoping instead the warriors would stop
sometime soon. She wished for her softer Asics walking shoes rather than her
good snakeskin boots she now wore. Blisters wouldn’t be forming then!

The cool water rushing down the narrow mountain stream
would feel exquisite on her throbbing feet right now; even though she knew it
was impossible. The warriors must be in a hurry to arrive at their destination,
wherever that might be in this rocky wilderness; they seemed to trudge on
forever.

Except for the roar of the water over the rocks, the
woods were silent. Perspiration trickled down Kate’s back. She carried the
blanket in her hand now, and she brought up her other arm up to wipe the
dampness from her face. Not daring to stop even for a moment’s rest, she moved
ahead.

The path became steeper, and her energy waned. Her
heart raced from the exertion and the high altitude stole her breath. She
continued to climb over rocks and skirt around tree stumps. Then stepping upon
a decayed log, Kate’s foot slipped.

She cried out as her feet scrambled to keep her
upright. Losing the battle, she stumbled downhill, unable to grasp anything to
stop her descent.

Reaching out for trees she passed, Kate’s fingers
burned when the bark split open her skin. By digging in her heels, she steadied
her feet and slowed her pace, then tripped over a large rock. Her head and back
slammed into a tree where she landed at its base. Pain shot through her
shoulder blades and finally giving up the struggle, she allowed herself to
slump to the ground in agony.

* * * * *

Taima walked farther ahead of his companions, but the
woman’s scream made him turn around. He watched her slender body topple down
the hillside, watched her desperately attempt to hold on. Dropping the
parfleches he carried, Taima ran toward her, his long hair tugging on his scalp
as it caught on low branches. Before he could reach the woman, he saw her body
crumpled at the base of a pine tree, face down among the brown needles. He
hurried to her side. Though he hadn’t wanted a woman traveling with them, he
didn’t wish her any harm. He’d only brought her along to keep her away from the
treacherous Blackfoot warrior, who would have killed her for sure.

Kneeling at her side, he lifted her long, dark braid
from her back, ignoring its silkiness. Gently, Taima touched the back of her
head, which rested on her extended arm. Something warm and sticky met his
fingers as he located the swollen bump and he looked into the dark gaze of his
friend, Ahanu.

Taima took care while he cut a piece of cloth from the
lower half of the back of her shirt. Moving his fingers over her skin, he noted
its softness, then quickly stepped to the stream.

Returning to her side with the wet cloth, he touched
the back of her head, his fingers lightly grazing the tender skin of her neck.
The woman moaned and tried to move, then stilled. He dabbed at the wound,
cleansing away the blood and dirt, seeing the cut wasn’t as serious as he’d
first thought. She would need tending once they arrived back with his people;
their shaman would know which ointment to use to prevent infection.

Touching her like this reminded him of how, last
night, he’d observed her while she watched Ahanu across the fire. Her dark hair
had cascaded down her back like the mountain waterfalls, and her delicate
facial features had reflected the glow from the flames. Since he hadn’t been
able to see into her eyes last night, he wondered at their color. Would he be
able to read her thoughts with the same ease he read his mother’s when he used
to look into her eyes?

He also wondered if this woman was as outspoken as she
appeared to be, always speaking her opinions and telling others what she would
and would not do? A woman like that was only trouble.

As Taima tended her back, checking for broken bones,
he ripped more cloth and handed it to Ahanu to wet in the stream. With concern
evident on his features, Ahanu did as requested.

Taima continued to rinse the wound, when a moan broke
the silence and the woman’s back arched away from his touch. Slender, white
fingers moved to her temple as she uttered another sound. The woman rose on one
elbow and turned her head toward him.

Long, dark lashes fluttered before opening, then
brilliant green eyes stared into his; eyes so different from those of his
people. Eyes more like that of a wary cougar.

Then her green eyes widened.

Pain shooting up Kate’s back shocked her--but not with
the same impact as when she gazed into the warrior’s face, only to look into
the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She parted her lips to speak, but nothing came
out.

Never in her life would she have believed a Native
American could have blue eyes. And God, he was handsome. From his cheekbones to
his sculptured jaw line, the chiseled features spoke of controlled, unleashed
strength, ready to burst forth like a wild animal at the slightest invitation.
Yet, at the moment, his gentleness shocked her, a side she was sure he would
deny to anyone.

Kate gazed lower to his chest. Though barely audible,
she gasped at the contoured muscles that lay beneath the bronze flesh, matching
the strength of the lean, taut body.

She glanced to the bloodied cloth held in his long
fingers; unable to believe he could possibly possess the tenderness that had
touched the back of her head. Again, she searched his blue gaze, wondering how
much more delicate his touch could be.

Kate tried to ignore her racing heart.
He’d
kidnapped her, for God sakes
. He and his friend had forced her to follow
them into these mountainous woods and tried to control her every move...and if
not for that, she wouldn’t be lying here, helpless.

She would hate them both for this!

A cool cloth pressed against her forehead and numbed
some of the pain as she gazed into the dark eyes of the other warrior.

The two men spoke to each other and her anger mounted.

“If you can’t speak in English, I wish you wouldn’t
speak at all when you’re around me!” She knew they couldn’t understand her
either, but she felt better. Covering her eyes with her hand, Kate slumped back
to the ground.

Again the men spoke, and then laughed. She didn’t
care, couldn’t care. The pain in her back and throbbing in her head consumed
her thoughts. She only wanted to rest.

Hearing movement, Kate opened one eye. The handsome,
blue-eyed warrior rose and walked to the stream. Filled with loathing, her gaze
followed him until he knelt at the water.

She looked at the other warrior. Tapping a finger onto
her chest, she blurted, “Kate! My name is Kate!” then pointed at him as she
raised her brows. “Do you have a name? What should I call you?”

“Ahanu.” He tapped his own chest with his fingertips.

“Ahanu,” Kate repeated, then pointed to his friend.

“Taima,” Ahanu stated.

“Taima,” she repeated after him, pointing toward the
handsome companion. Ahanu nodded, a grin stretching across his tanned face.

When Ahanu’s friend returned, she stared at him, and
curling her lip in disgust, said his name, “Taima.”

With a scathing look, Taima glanced at Ahanu.

Ahanu grinned, pointing at her. “Kate.”

Taima met her gaze, and then gently grasped her upper
arm, moving her forward, touching the cold cloth to the back of her head. She couldn’t
help but flinch and grit her teeth as the cold material sent gooseflesh popping
out across her heated skin. Then Taima placed the cloth over her entire upper
back, providing her with much needed relief from the bruising.

Gingerly searching through her hair with her fingers
for the source of pain, Kate’s eyes widened when she touched the gigantic bump.
A warm, sticky substance covered her fingertips. She brought her hand around
for inspection.

My God! Blood!

She glanced at Taima as she wiped the blood on her
jeans. Again, astonishment tore through her when their gazes met; his sparkling
azure eyes left her gaping speechlessly at him, forgetting about the wound.

Thankfully Taima didn’t note her surprise; Kate
searched the depths of his eyes, locking with his for what seemed an eternity.
The blueness unsettled her. She’d have to refrain from looking directly at him
whenever possible, rather than walk around mindlessly each time she did so.
Even though his eyes affected her, she still hated the fact that he wouldn’t
release her.

Taima broke their eye contact first and carefully
parted her hair to check the bump. Though Kate tried to lie still, she jerked
when he touched the wound, yet she refused to show any weakness.

Warm fingers grasped both her hands. Taima and Ahanu
pulled Kate to her feet. Once standing, Taima turned and walked away, picking
up his bow and pouches before moving on. She reached behind her to find the
lower part of her sweatshirt had been cut open. Cooler air caressed her back. A
throbbing pain stabbed through her head with every beat of her heart and she
swayed on her feet, nearly passing out. Luckily, Ahanu helped her take a few
steps, and though she didn’t look at Taima, she could feel his gaze on her.

Thankful for Ahanu’s help, Kate took a few steps
before the dizziness subsided. Ahanu followed. She glanced up the trail, still
a bit uneasy. Well ahead of them walked Taima, his back straight and proud as
he moved stealthily through the trees, his horse trailing behind him.

* * * * * *

Taima gripped his bow in frustration as he stepped
over fallen, decaying tree trunks, which lay across the trail. He didn’t want
to think of anything right now except returning to camp, least of all how this
woman affected him. Disgusted with himself, he stayed ahead of Ahanu and the
woman, Kate. Taima had vowed never again to allow another woman to get beneath
his skin. Yet, thoughts of the white woman forced their way into his mind like
poisoned arrows and when his fingers had touched the soft, warm flesh of Kate’s
injured back, he’d wondered if the rest of her body was just as soft and
milky-white.

Damnation,
he cursed to himself, clenching his jaw; he was doing it again.
Did he hate
her for being white or more because of the way he allowed her to affect him?
The
hatred he carried against the white man ran deep in his heart, whether male or
female. The death of his wife and mother at the hands of three trappers three
summers past had nearly cost Taima his own life.

The trappers’ deaths hadn’t brought his mother and
wife back, but Taima felt part of his revenge had been satisfied when his
arrows penetrated their bodies. The grizzly bear and her nearby cubs had eaten
well that day.

He’d walked away without remorse.

Taima smiled at the final image he’d conjured up. He
doubted the trappers ever gave their victims a second thought either.

The dense forest ended and Taima walked into another
open meadow, tall green grass reaching his knees. The sun warmed his face and
chest; the pine scent of the trees gave way to fresh air with a hint of sweet
sagebrush.

He scanned the meadow, searching for signs of danger
as his gaze fell upon three bucks and four does across the way.

Excitement heightened his awareness; his heart quickly
pumped blood through his veins. With extreme caution, Taima reached behind his
head and pulled an arrow from his quill, then placed it against the bow. The
muscles in his arms tightened as he drew back the cord, slowly and patiently.
Taking careful aim, he released the arrow, waiting, watching as it sliced
through the air and penetrated the buck directly behind the left shoulder. The
powerful deer fell, while the others leapt for cover, their tails in the air.

Food for his people being Taima’s only thought, he ran
toward his kill. Taima knelt beside the still animal; as always, his shot had
been true, the animal was dead. He pulled a knife from the sheath at his waist
and proceeded to gut the eight-point buck.

* * * * * *

The dizziness passed for Kate, though the pain at the
back of her head still throbbed. Clotted blood had stopped any further
bleeding. She continued to check the wound on her head to be sure, wincing in
pain from the burning sensation each time she touched the cut. Had these
savages not forced her up this treacherous mountain path, she wouldn’t be in
agony, or wishing they were dead.

Damn them to hell!
She would make them pay for this.

Kate glanced back at Ahanu, who followed close behind
her, never smiling, only prodding her forward. His dark eyes masked his
emotions, and though he didn’t go out of his way to be mean, Ahanu never
crossed the invisible line Taima had drawn between her and them.

Kate looked ahead, searching for Taima. At least an
hour had passed since she’d last seen his back. Did he arrogantly think she
would continue to follow him? If so, she would indeed inform him differently
the first chance she got. But right now, each time she slowed, Ahanu kept
poking her to continue moving.

A clearing up ahead drew her attention. Relief soared
at receiving a reprieve from traipsing through the underbrush of the forest.
She longed for the sun’s warmth on her face since last night’s chill yet clung
to her bones. The blanket around her shoulders at least provided some
protection from the cold.

Thoughts of last night caused her stomach to knot
remembering the arm that prevented her escape, but the comfort that arm gave
still confused her. She didn’t want to be anyone’s prisoner, and the memory was
just one more thing she added to her list of complaints she bore against her
captors.

Kate stepped into the surrounding beauty of the
meadow. The blanket slipped from her shoulders and she caught it in her hand.
Pillowy, white clouds floated above the snow-peaked mountaintops, copses of
pine meandered up the hillsides, while a stream snaked its way through the
lower valley. A small group of mule deer raced toward the edge of the meadow’s
far side--where Kate spotted Taima kneeling in the tall grass.

Curious, she turned to Ahanu who had already seen
Taima and went about tying their horses to a tree. As he started running toward
the blue-eyed warrior, she gripped the blanket within her fingers, and followed
after Ahanu. She wondered what could have happened and why Taima had knelt
there. Long strides depleted what little energy she had left, running also made
her head and back ache even more.

Breathless, Kate came upon Taima gutting a deer. Blood
covered his arms to his elbows, causing her to cover her mouth as bile rose in
her throat. Wanting to avoid the bloody animal, she immediately looked away and
ran past Taima and Ahanu to lean against a huge boulder some distance from the
dead animal.

Kate sat down and rested her head against the rock.
The bile in her throat refused to go away and hoped she wouldn’t be sick. She
looked heavenward, keeping her head high, inhaling fresh air, then closed her
eyes. The sound of purling water bubbling in a nearby stream reached her. Birds
flapped their wings overhead, giving her dark world an image of beauty. She
willed the sounds to calm her nerves as the sun warmed her face.

After several long minutes, the queasiness subsided.

Why her? How did she come to be in this place? The
raid seemed more like weeks ago rather than a matter of a few days. She vaguely
remembered being at the rock during the beginning of a storm. The distant
thunder and lightning had been too far off to be threatening, so she hadn’t
returned to town. But that couldn’t have affected her being here now. Could it?

She sighed, wanting immediate answers to all her
questions. Certainly the Indians she traveled with couldn’t tell her; they
couldn’t even understand English. Rubbing her face with both hands, she tried
to block out the world.

Suddenly her senses tingled with the feeling that
someone watched her. Apprehensively, Kate lifted her lashes and stared into
Ahanu’s dark eyes. He glanced to the side, and her gaze followed his. Kate
locked her eyes on Taima, who knelt, securing the buck to a long pole.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Now what?”
Like he would
understand
.

He motioned for her to rise, and seeing no
alternative, she did. Still feeling nauseated, she followed Ahanu to where
Taima waited. He never once looked in her direction.

The two men hoisted the pole onto their shoulders. The
sight and smell of the deer made her stomach knot and bile to rise in her
throat again. Her heart sank when the animal’s head hung limply down, its rack
nearly touching the ground. She tried not to think about the deer’s beauty,
only of the fact that meat would be provided. The hide would likely be used for
clothing, and the horns for tools. Indians were resourceful, she knew, wasting
very little of nature’s bounty.

A painful grip on Kate’s arm caused her to cry out as
Taima’s fingers wrapped around the small bones of her wrist.

“Let go of me, you savage.”

Taima nearly pulled her arm from her shoulder when he
dragged her forward with a force she dared not fight. They walked toward their
horses at the meadow’s edge where they chewed on tender grass during the hunt.
Ahanu untied the reins and pulled the horses behind him, their few belongings
still strapped on the horses.

Rebellion slowly built as she was dragged along,
coiling within her like a snake prepared to strike. Suddenly she dug in her
boot heels, bringing them to a near halt.