Wind Rider (11 page)

“How could I take a second wife when I have
no first wife? I have no plans to take a wife at this time.”

“What about her?” Spotted Doe asked, ges
turing toward Hannah. “Will your slave warm
your blankets?”

“If I wish it.”

Rage seethed through Spotted Doe. “Is it because she has white skin like yours?”

Wind Rider tensed. Never in all his years with the Cheyenne had his loyalty been questioned.
“I am Cheyenne, brother to the Sioux. White
men have destroyed my hunting grounds. They
killed my mother, Gray Dove, and sent my tribe
fleeing for their lives.”

Spotted Doe flushed and lowered her head,
aware that she had spoken rashly. “I did not mean to anger you. But I must warn you, Cut
Nose is a vindictive man. For some reason he
wants your slave. He has gone to the council
to request that you be banished from the tribe. But if you join with one of our women, they will be more favorable toward you.”

“I am not afraid to appear before the council.
I have friends who will speak for me. No one
can doubt my loyalty after fighting beside me
in battle.”

Spotted Doe smiled at him and placed a small
hand on his arm. “I hope you are right. But if they decide they need further proof, joining
with one of our women will convince them
of your loyalty. My family is willing for me
to join with you, and since you have no horses
to offer as a bride price, Cut Nose will gladly
accept your slave.”

Hannah knew by the fierce scowl on Wind Rid
er’s face that Spotted Doe had angered him. But
she didn’t have time to question him because
Coyote arrived, dismissing Spotted Doe with a
wave of his hand. Hannah squatted beside the
fire, wishing she could understand.

“I have just come from the council,” Coyote told Wind Rider. “They will meet to consider Cut Nose’s allegations concerning your loyalty.
Cut Nose fears you will betray us because you
are white, but I know better, my brother. Your heart is pure Cheyenne.”

“Thank you, Coyote. When is the council to
meet?”

“They will meet tomorrow when the sun is at its highest. They will hear Cut Nose first,
and then you will be called upon to defend
yourself. I think Cut Nose is jealous of you.
He wants your slave,” Coyote confided, cast
ing a surreptitious glance at Hannah. “He is
telling everyone that his family has suffered great embarrassment because you refused to
join with his sister/’

“I do not wish to take a wife/’

“It would be wise if you reconsidered,” Coyote advised. “Cut Nose is willing to accept your
slave in lieu of a bride price.”

“The council has no reason to question my
loyalty,” Wind Rider repeated. He cast a sidelong glance at Hannah. “I will not give up my slave. The council may question me all they
like; I have nothing to hide. I have never giv
en them any cause for doubt. I am the son
of White Feather, respected chieftain of the
Southern Cheyenne.”

“I agree, my brother, and so will the council
if they are wise. Runs-Like-A-Deer and I will
speak in your defense. So will others of the
council.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Hannah watched Coyote walk away, wonder
ing what their conversation had been about. It
sounded serious. She jumped when Wind Rider said, “Come inside the tepee. I wish to speak
to you in private.”

Hannah scooted inside, wondering what
Wind Rider wanted to talk about. Wind Rider
closed the tent flap and stared at her with such
absorption, she retreated a step, seared by the
silver intensity of his eyes.

“Cut Nose wants you. He offered me his sis
ter and is willing to accept you as the bride
price since I have few horses.”

Hannah blanched. She’d die before she’d
allow Cut Nose to touch her. “Did you accept his
offer?” She was trembling so badly, the words
tumbled one after another from her white lips.
“Spotted Doe is very beautiful.” She sucked in her breath and held it, waiting for Wind Rider’s answer.

Not as beautiful as you, he thought. “I do not
need a wife,” Wind Rider said harshly. “Nor am
I willing to trade you to Cut Nose.”

His answer gave Hannah the courage to
breathe again. What would she have done
if he had agreed to Cut Nose’s proposal?
When her knees started to buckle Wind Rid
er reached out to steady her. His eyes widened
when he felt a shock travel up the length of
his arm. Had Little Sparrow felt it, too? he
wondered.

“I do not wish to be traded to Cut Nose,”
Hannah whispered shakily. “If I must have
a master I prefer it to be you.” Hannah
couldn’t imagine what possessed her to say
such a thing. She wanted no master, espe
cially not an Indian master. But Wind Rider
was such a contradiction, she didn’t understand her own feelings where he was con
cerned.

She feared him, that was true, yet he hadn’t
really hurt her. And sometimes he treated
her with more kindness
 
and consideration
than Mr. Harley had. There were times, like
now, when she could have sworn he pos
sessed not one Indian trait or characteris
tic. But when he was painted with hideous stripes, his hair hanging loose about his wide shoulders, carrying tomahawk and bow, he
looked every bit as savage as his compan
ions.

Wind Rider’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of
whore’s trick are you playing? False words do not impress me.”

That word again! Hannah’s temper flared. “I am no whore!”

“Perhaps I will find out for myself.” He reached for her, dragging her against his hard length. Her lips were red and lush, and he ran his tongue over their full contours, sampling
their ripeness. She tasted so sweet, he hungered
for more.

In a saloon in Denver he had seen white men press their mouths against those women who
sold their bodies for coin. They seemed to
enjoy it, and as he licked Hannah’s lips he
was tempted to try it himself. Cheyenne did
not press mouths like white eyes. They licked
their lovers’ faces, and sometimes their bodies, and pressed their cheeks together or rubbed
noses. But this, he decided, as he covered
Hannah’s mouth with his, was so pleasant, he could easily become addicted.

Stunned by her reaction to Wind Rider’s kiss,
Hannah melted into the hard wall of his chest. It was Hannah’s first kiss, and her mouth opened in surprise. She had no idea it would make her tingle all over or ache in places she had never ached before.

Instinct guided Wind Rider as he thrust his
tongue inside Hannah’s sweet mouth. Her taste
was utterly captivating, and he pressed her
closer, until he felt the hard peaks of her
breasts stab into his chest. A groan of sheer
agony slipped from his throat. His big hands
splayed over her slim back, sliding down
ward along her spine, cupping the sweet
mounds of her buttocks into his groin. His
manhood throbbed strong and hard between
them, prodding the tender curve of her stom
ach.

Hannah felt his hips rock against her and came abruptly to her senses. How could she
respond so fiercely to this savage? It was the
first time she had ever felt desire for a man. But she feared and distrusted all men. What
made Wind Rider different from any other
man, to make her feel the kind of things she was experiencing in his arms? She fought to
regain her sanity, struggling desperately to
free herself from the lure of his strong arms.
“No!”

He held her captive, mesmerized by the rapid flutter of her heart against his breast. “You are my slave. You will do as I say.” He fell to
his knees, dragging her down with him. “Take
off your tunic.” Wind Rider had no idea what
possessed him, but if he didn’t have Little Spar
row now he would surely perish. It must be his cursed white blood clamoring within him, he
thought disgustedly.

Hannah’s eyes darted toward the entrance,
visually measuring the distance. “You can’t
escape; don’t even think it.” His fingers grasped
the ties holding her tunic together at the shoul
ders. He wanted her so badly, he would have
ripped it from her body if someone hadn’t
rattled the buffalo bones outside the lodge.
Frustration seethed through Wind Rider as
he glanced at the closed flap, tempted beyond
redemption to ignore the summons.

“Wind Rider, it is Runs-Like-A-Deer. I must
speak with you.”

Wind Rider spat out a curse as he rose to
his feet, adjusted his breechclout, and flung
open the flap. He didn’t invite Runs-Like-A-
Deer inside but stepped out instead.

Hannah slumped in relief. If someone hadn’t
arrived to speak to Wind Rider, he would have
taken her.
And she probably would have helped
him.
How could she act so wantonly? She was still shaking, wondering how long her reprieve
would last. When Wind Rider’s visitor left
would he finish what he had started? She
touched her flushed cheeks, not surprised to
find them burning. If she had been home in
Ireland, she would have rushed to the church
and confessed her sins to the priest, for she had
actually felt desire for a savage heathen. For a
fleeting instant she had wanted to lie beneath
his big golden body, yearned for the touch of his
hands on her bare flesh, wished to experience
the forbidden mysteries that would have made her a woman.

When Wind Rider ducked back inside the tent
and scowled fiercely at her Hannah’s thoughts scattered.

“I go now to the purification hut. Tonight the
council will decide who will be your owner,” he told her gruffly. His body still wanted Hannah
so badly, the physical pain was nearly unbear
able. “Runs-Like-A-Deer will accompany me.”

“Wh-what about me?” She feared Cut Nose would try something, with Wind Rider gone.
“I’ll be alone.”

“Woman-Who-Waddles will stay with you. Do not worry about Cut Nose; he goes also to
pray and fast with his friends.”

Hannah relaxed visibly, though her face was
still pale. “What if the council decides against
you?”

“They will not.” He said it with such conviction, Hannah felt reassured—but not com
pletely.

“But what if they do?”

He sent her an inscrutable look. “I will leave
and you will belong to Cut Nose.” He did not tell her that if such an incredible thing were to
happen he would not leave her to the mercy of
Cut Nose. Somehow, some way, he would take
her with him.

“Oh, God.”

A few minutes later the old woman who had showed her how to make frybread arrived with
her mat rolled up under her arm. She spoke
briefly to Wind Rider, placed her mat in a corner, and went outside, where she busied herself at the fire.

“I will not be far away,” Wind Rider told
her. “Do not try to escape.” Then he ducked
through the flap and was gone.

The council convened promptly at noon the following day. Hannah lingered outside the tepee with Woman-Who-Waddles, watching
closely as Cut Nose addressed the circle of men
who were to decide for or against Wind Rider.
It seemed to Hannah that Cut Nose spoke most
eloquently, gesturing wildly to make a point. So
much depended on the outcome of the council that Hannah could think of nothing but what
would happen if Wind Rider was banished from
the tribe.

After what seemed like hours Wind Rid
er joined the council. Hannah thought he
appeared strong and confident as he spoke to the group. She could hear nothing of what
was being said and couldn’t glean a thing from their stoic expressions.

Wind Rider noted many friends among the
council members, including Runs-Like-A-Deer
and Coyote. He knew Cut Nose had stated his case quite persuasively but nevertheless felt
optimistic about the outcome. No viable reason
to dispute his loyalty to the People existed.