White Wind (7 page)

Golden Eagle pushed the material aside. “You’re hurt,” he exclaimed.

Sarah closed her eyes in shame while attempting to cover herself, knowing he was seeing the result of Willy’s abuse. “Please, Golden Eagle. No. It was not you who…”

Her protest was to no avail. Her hands were removed firmly. Silence filled the air as Golden Eagle reached down to gently cup Sarah’s chin and turn her to face him. As he did, the sun fell full on her face, part of which had been in shadow. His eyes darkened, black with rage, and he swore loudly when he saw the bruise forming on the side of her face. “Look at me, Sarah.” He waited until she complied.

“Who did this to you? Who left marks on your body?”

Closing her eyes in humiliation, Sarah could not answer. The emotional pain of her encounter with Willy was still too raw.

He stood above her, eyes glowing with murderous intent. She gulped. Never had she seen anyone look so…ready to kill.

“Don’t move. Wait here,” he commanded, whistling a shrill command to his horse. Suddenly Golden Eagle was gone, and with him, a comforting warmth.

Golden Eagle stood for a moment trying to control the rage coursing through his body. He would kill the evil dog for what he’d done to his woman. Swiftly, he pulled supplies from his parfleche.

Dipping a square piece of hide in the cool water, he returned to Sarah and knelt beside her. He kept his anger checked as he studied the ugly bruises and angry red grooves where nails had left their marks upon her flesh.

“I won’t hurt you, little one. Trust me. These wounds must be cared for.” His cloth-covered palm gently skimmed tender skin. A piece of cloth brushed against one rosy nipple, and he watched as it shriveled into a hard tight bud.

Sarah gasped. He swallowed hard, his hand stilling. Sarah refused to meet his gaze, and Golden Eagle took a deep breath and quickly finished the torturous job. Taking a small amount of salve, he quickly applied it and tied the torn ends of the cloth with a leather thong.

Taking her hands in his, he pulled Sarah to her feet and watched while she dusted herself off, picked up her fallen cloak, pulled it over her shoulders and looked everywhere but at him.

“As Sarah has no father or trustworthy male relative to look after her, Golden Eagle must believe our paths have crossed for this purpose. It is not right for a female, Indian or white,” he declared, “to be alone without male protection.” He put his supplies away to give his words time to sink in before turning to continue.

“The Great Spirit has spoken though these events. He led Golden Eagle to Sarah when she was a child in need of help. And once again, Golden Eagle finds Sarah in need of help. This is the way the Great Spirit has joined our paths. Is Golden Eagle not considered to be trustworthy to Sarah?”

“Of course I trust you, Golden Eagle, but…”

The warrior nodded. “That is good, because you will come to my village. I will keep you safe from this Willy. He will pay for his evil.” Having spoken all that he intended to, he turned away.

Sarah put her hand to her chest, surprised that the salve had indeed taken the pain away. Even more surprising, his touch had not repulsed her as Willy’s had. She flushed, remembering her body’s reaction to a simple accidental touch.

Golden Eagle too had been affected, though he’d tried to hide it, but not before she’d seen hungry desire flare in his eyes before he masked it.

She stared at his golden sunbaked back and broad shoulders, which tapered down, where a long piece of deerskin hung from his hips. Each step revealed teasing glimpses of bronzed skin pulled tightly over bunched muscle.

Her voice a soft whisper, she spoke, more to herself. “But who will keep me safe from you, Golden Eagle?”

Golden Eagle heard and retraced his steps. Stopping in front of the spirited girl, he fingered her softly glowing hair.

“I have promised you safety. I cannot promise more than that.”

Gnawing at her lower lip, Sarah accepted that he would not let her continue by herself. He was right, it was too dangerous.

Suddenly the truth hit her. He had been at her home, following her since she left. That explained the feeling of being watched at the meadow.

Frowning, she worried for Mary and Ben’s safety. Were there more warriors there? Would his tribe attack them for crimes committed by Willy?

Voicing her fears, she asked, “Are the warriors of your tribe going to attack my people for what Willy has done? Will you promise their safety if I go with you? They had nothing to do with what Willy did.” Sarah knew she had no choice but to go, but she had to try and bargain for Mary and Ben.

Golden Eagle considered her words. “Red Fox, one of our great warriors, has asked that we bring many brave warriors back and burn the evil white man’s home.”

Tuning toward his horse as if it were already decided, Golden Eagle was without remorse for using her weakness to his advantage.

Sarah stood in shock, visions of her home and dear friends, dead or homeless, flashing through her mind.

A part of her recognized how she’d been cleverly trapped by her own words. But she would not be able to live with herself if anything happened to those she loved. She didn’t believe he would allow such a thing, but she couldn’t take the risk. She had to be sure.

Running after the sly warrior, Sarah reached out and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn back to her. Quickly, she released his overly warm flesh.

“Golden Eagle is smart and cunning. I can’t let my people be hurt by the actions of one evil white man. I do not believe you would harm my friends, but neither will I take the risk. Deal with Willy as your tribe sees fit, but let no harm come to the innocent. I will come with you if you promise no revenge to my people.”

Golden Eagle stepped close to Sarah and cupped her chin with firm fingers, forcing her to look at him. “Come with me willingly, promise not to run off, and I promise in return not to harm your people or home. Stay until revenge is ours and the bargain is made.”

“I promise. But only because I have no choice,” she said as she stared into Golden Eagle’s uncompromising features.

Golden Eagle nodded. He lowered his head and his lips brushed against hers, his actions startling her. Before she could react, be had turned once again to lead the way to where the two horses waited.

Golden Eagle looked to the horizon. He knew Sarah would be followed when she was missed. His tracks would also be followed as he hadn’t taken the time to hide them in case he lost sight of Sarah. His fingers drummed a silent rhythm on the back of his horse. He needed the fastest way to rejoin his friend.

“You will ride with me,” he decided, knowing he could go faster without worrying about her. He took the reins from her hands.

Sarah spun around to face him, bringing to mind a wild spitting kitten. Hands on hips, she glared at him, standing firm by her horse.

His hands also went to rest on narrow hips as they faced off.

“I will not. I ride my own horse.” No answer. “You expect me to just leave my horse here?” she asked in disbelief. Still no answer, only the narrowing of dark eyes warning her not to push.

“The mare is mine. I raised her myself. I won’t leave her. I won’t…” Her voice trailed off and she retreated from Golden Eagle’s slow approach.

Back at the stream, he’d been excited by her show of spirit, realizing that this was the challenge he needed. Now, he wondered if she had too much spirit. Golden Eagle turned and brought his horse forward, mounting in one fluid motion.

“If she follows, you may keep her. Come. We go.”

Sarah turned from his outstretched hand and removed the saddle from her mare, then the supplies and lastly, her bag of clothes.

Golden Eagle enjoyed her graceful movements, and when she stood in front of him, clutching her bag, he grabbed it and tossed it down. “Leave it. I will provide all that you need. You have no need for white man’s clothing in my village.” He was prepared for her reaction this time.

Glaring, Sarah didn’t bother answering as she defiantly tore open her bag and took out one dress, concealing in it the box that had belonged to her mother, the only link she had with her past. Sneaking in a few other small items, she bundled them and stood, daring him to refuse her.

Hoping she would show proper respect in his village, Golden Eagle shook his head and gave in. Stretching his hand, he pulled her up behind him and urged the stallion forward.

Sarah placed her bundle on her lap between them and wrapped her arms around Golden Eagle’s waist to keep from falling off when he spurred his horse into a wild gallop.

Her pale hair streamed behind her, whipping her face as she turned to whistle to her mare to follow.

Excitement shone in her eyes. It was the beginning of a new adventure. But would it be one that she’d regret?

Mary paced back and forth, the planks of the wooden porch creaking beneath her agitated steps. She stopped only to scan the horizon for approaching riders. Closing red-rimmed eyes, she prayed, “Oh, Lord, let my girl be found unharmed.”

Tears tumbled down her leathery wrinkled skin. Mary reached into her pocket for her ever-present handkerchief, and Sarah’s crumbled note fell to the porch.

“Foolish girl,” she cried, dabbing at her eyes with the yellowed cloth.

When Mary had woken that morning, Sarah had been nowhere in sight. Thinking the girl had risen early and had left to start her chores, Mary had taken her time dressing before heading to the other cabin. She’d expected to see smoke rising from the chimney, smell the yeasty aroma of fresh bread and find Sarah warming herself with a cup of hot coffee.

But a cold cabin, no bread and no Sarah had greeted her. It was then she’d seen the note on the table. Running out to the corral, she hadn’t been surprised to find Black Lady gone. Just in case, though, she’d checked the barn, found the exhausted horses and realized four more were missing. Instinctually she’d quickly fed and cared for the two that remained.

Ben would be furious when he saw the state they were in. She looked up. The noonday sun blazed overhead. “Oh, Ben, please come home.”

Making another trip around the cabins, Mary finally heard a group of men, laughing and singing boisterously. Her eyes searched for and fell on one as they came into view. A head taller, barrel-chested, he loomed over the others, his voice deep and booming. Her Ben was home.

“Ben, Ben.” He looked up and the others grew silent as Mary ran toward them. Even from this distance he knew something was wrong. Dropping the reins of the pack mule, he ran to meet her.

“Mary. What’s wrong?”

Mary fell into his outstretched arms. “She’s gone, Ben. Our Sarah has run off,” she sobbed.

Ben held Mary away from him, hands on her shoulders. “What are you talkin’ about, Mary? What do you mean? Are you sure?” At his wife’s insistent nod, Ben thought a moment.

“Wait, Mary. What about Black Lady? Maybe she just went for a picnic?”

“No Ben. She left this note. She took some of her belongings as well, and Ben, there are four other horses missing.”

Ben handed Mary the note. “Read it, wife.” Mary read how Sarah explained what had happened when Willy returned last night and her fear for their safety. Mary’s voice broke. She wrung her hands and looked to her husband. “What do we do now, Ben?”

Ben looked to the others. He knew he could count on them to help. “Let’s go. We’ll drop off our stuff and spread out to search for clues to where she went.”

He took Mary in his arms. “Make coffee, Mary, and see to the animals. We’ll be back.”

In the barn Ben found the horses left by Willy, and swore when he saw the condition of the two horses, two of their finest.

One of John’s dreams, now Ben’s and Sarah’s, had been to raise horses and expand into a large prosperous ranch. Already they supplied horses to the nearby fort.

A rifle shot rang out. Ben raced toward the sound. “Jacob, what is it? What have you found?” He arrived beside the kneeling man to lean over to study the tracks. “Are they Sarah’s?”

Slowly Jacob raised his head and met the older man’s hopeful gaze. “Ben,” he whispered, gulping back fear. “Her tracks are here. I followed them from the grave site. They’re leading to that place where her and her pa use to picnic.”

Grabbing Ben’s arm, he pointed. “Look here. There are now two sets of tracks. Someone is following her. The horse’s hooves are covered, probably with rawhide. See how faint they are?”

The two men glanced at one another. They knew Indians covered their horses’ hooves with rawhide to protect their ponies’ hooves, silence the noise and hide their tracks.

Quickly they rounded up the others and left to follow, leaving Mary behind with her rifle to signal in case Sarah returned.

The sun was going down when the weary men returned. Ben took his wife gently in his arms and gave her the news. He told her about the signs of struggle and the saddle, supplies and Sarah’s small bundle of clothing they’d found.

All they could do was pray and hope they could find her. The best scout would be hired. Ben and two others were leaving in the morning to search for her. The others decided to stay in case of trouble. From Willy, or Indians. Maybe both.

Kneeling on the soft bank at the water’s edge, refreshed by the cool, clear water, Sarah looked up toward the tall, dark hills that seemed to be their destination.

Soaring above, circling the shrouded cloud-covered peaks, golden-brown eagles glided gracefully on the currents of air, lazily allowing the breeze to carry them across the stretch of pale blue sky.

With a weary sigh, Sarah stood and returned to their namesake. She was very grateful for the chance to stretch her stiff limbs and quench her thirst as they had been riding all day.

Slowing as she approached man and beast, Sarah stopped and watched with admiring eyes as Golden Eagle tended his horse. Leaning her tired body against a tall pine, she observed the gentle movement of his hands as they caressed the horse’s sleek, smooth head.

Cocking her head to the side, Sarah caught the softly spoken words, foreign to her, but not to the horse. His voice was a gentle caress that enthralled both horse and girl. The words enveloped her, soothing her jangled nerves.

Sarah couldn’t help the self-satisfied grin that momentarily spread across her worried features. The knowledge that he cared so deeply for the gift she and her father had left for him all those years ago touched her deeply. More so than was proper, she scolded herself, returning her attention to that gift—the magnificent stallion.

From the day of his birth, the golden colt with the white star on its forehead had been Sarah’s favorite. On her 12th birthday, he’d been given to her by her pa. Hers to raise and train.

When she’d suggested leaving a horse for her rescuer as payment for saving her life and helping her back to the ranch, her father had agreed. He’d told her that he was very grateful to the unknown Indian for saving her life
and
returning her home.

He’d carried her into the dark barn, and had not argued with her wish to give the just-weaned colt to her savior. It matched the Indian’s name, she’d declared when her father questioned her choice.

She felt no resentment giving Golden Eagle the colt. They suited each other. He had done a fine job raising and training him. She turned her attention to study her self-appointed protector.

Of medium height, Golden Eagle was nonetheless very powerful and intimidating. He was now wearing moccasins and breechclout, having discarded his leggings as the sun warmed the air, and his lean, muscular body was exposed for her wandering curious gaze. She swallowed hard. All that bronzed flesh was a bit overpowering.

He stood in a commanding stance, feet planted firmly on the rocky ground, sinewy legs bulging with finely honed muscles. Slowly, Sarah lifted her curious gaze upward, quickly scanning his nearly bare buttocks before settling on his broad back.

Just thinking how her body reacted to the close contact of that warm male flesh caused heat to creep up her neck and flood her cheeks. Absorbing his male scent while her hands encircled his waist, she realized she’d never seen, let alone touched, such a virile male.

Golden Eagle felt her gaze on him, and shifted slightly so he could in turn appraise her. She was small and delicate in appearance. Her long blond hair and wide blue eyes gave her the illusion of being fragile. But he knew that was all it was. A more stubborn or willful woman he’d not met. He grinned when her eyes lowered in embarrassment.

Golden Eagle was determined that she would soon do more than look. She was more potent than any woman he’d ever known.

He still felt her touch upon his body. Her softness, her curves pressed tightly against him, slender hands gripping him hesitantly and shyly around his midsection.

Striding toward her with catlike grace, he stopped only inches away and looked into flushed features. Softly, he said, “You have grown into a beautiful woman, Sarah. Why have you not joined with a white man?” he asked, curious. Girls in his tribe would be ashamed to reach her years without marrying.