than one.
Walks Alone grasped the horse’s mane then his arm, but quickly released him as if he might bite. Then she grabbed the mane again.
“Be still. I won’t let you fall,” he said, finally in English, his accent strange and thick. How long had it been since he’d used this language? It was one thing to teach his friends how to speak English, but to think on his feet was more difficult.
The other braves rode beside them, and she leaned into him but immediately pulled away.
White Eagle sighed. The settlers were headed for Denver City, but now these two women were headed west.
Chapter Four
White Eagle held Walks Alone in his arms as she moved against his chest. She had fought sleep long enough and finally lost the battle.
He had never seen a woman more tempting and beautiful. Her long hair cascaded over his thigh. He ached to wrap it around his neck and take in its softness. Instead, he gently moved his fingers through her yellow mane, watching it shimmer against his dark skin.
He found it difficult to have the petite, shapely woman so near and not lose control of his senses. He shifted slightly in an attempt to put some distance between them.
She snuggled in closer.
A sigh escaped her full lips, the kind a man would want to kiss, drawing his attention to the slight upward curve of her nose. He fought the urge to run his forefinger along its freckled bridge, fearing she might awaken. Her thin brows, a tad darker than her hair, didn’t arch quite as sharply now that she slept.
What was a woman like her doing alone in a land like this? She didn’t wear a ring, and there was no indentation of one, showing no signs of having been married. Her clothing told him she didn’t come from any of the Western Territories or States. Why had she been walking alone so far behind the other wagons? Was a relative awaiting her arrival in Denver City? He hoped not. If she didn’t show, they might come looking for her.
“It’ll be dark soon,” Running Cloud said. “We’ll camp tonight on Rocky Ridge. It’ll be safe there.”
White Eagle nodded, fearful of what Running Cloud intended to do with the woman on his horse.
After they had left the settlers, White Eagle, Running Cloud, and the rest of the braves had started off toward the west, but as soon as Walks Alone fell asleep, they had turned south, traveling along the hogbacks. The rolling hills looked like giant loaves of bread he recalled the whites serving at his father’s table. Now they were just beyond the hogbacks west of Denver City and climbing into the Rocky Mountains.
“Black Bear will return to our village,” Running Cloud said. “We need to be prepared.”
White Eagle agreed, contemplating the dangers that lay ahead for both the women.
“I’m honored to have you at my side.”
White Eagle didn’t look at his friend. He knew Running Cloud was trying to make it up to him for forcing the woman on him. He ignored him and continued to run Walks Alone’s golden mane between his fingers.
“Because you saved my life at Sand Creek, I call you White Eagle and my brother, but maybe you prefer receiving Walks Alone over the gift of my blood.” Running Cloud’s brow rose. “I’m not as exciting to look at.”
White Eagle grinned then forced a frown, remembering he was angry with him.
Running Cloud’s expression became serious. “The Great Spirit of the Sun has touched your woman. The people of our village will accept her. I’ll make sure they do,” he said. “Song Bird will be pleased that you’ll finally have a woman to share your blanket.”
Now it was easy for White Eagle to be angry. He didn’t want a wife. Sure, they’d been watching the settlers for a few days, and he’d enjoyed watching Walks Alone soaking in the river. Despite that, he’d never shown any intention of taking her.
“Now you can have what you saw,” Running Cloud said.
White Eagle suspected the next several weeks were going to be very difficult on the Eastern-bred Walks Alone. But how much more difficult would they be on him? He had simply smiled when he laid eyes on her, and now she was in his arms.
“White men treat their women like dogs.” Running Cloud motioned to Woman Of Sorrow’s bruised eye.
The slender woman sat stiff in Running Cloud’s saddle, not saying a word or daring to look to the side. Her hands trembled when she reached up to brush a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“This time she’ll have a better husband,” Running Cloud said, his mouth set in a rigid line.
Woman Of Sorrow was pretty, and White Eagle understood why Running Cloud would want her. But as a wife? Did that mean he wouldn’t ravish her? Running Cloud didn’t understand that white women were not gifts to be taken or given away. Sure, it was common to steal women from enemy tribes and force them to marry, but this was different. White Eagle knew that anger still raged inside Running Cloud towards the white man. So, if he intended to marry her, why? He’d killed the woman’s husband. Was it out of honor or duty that he took her? Maybe he was taking Woman Of Sorrow as his wife to benefit the tribe?
That was it. Running Cloud planned to marry her as a means of securing safety from the white man for his village. If the war chief were to take a white wife, there was a greater chance that the village wouldn’t fall under attack. He recalled Running Cloud voicing those very words just days earlier when they’d spotted Walks Alone by the river. Yet, if news of her kidnapping got out, that could make the situation worse. Either way, he knew Running Cloud would abide by his word and treat the woman with respect as he would any other Cheyenne bride.
That was a relief, but for the first time ever, White Eagle regretted not becoming war chief when it was offered to him. Had White Eagle become war chief, Running Cloud would be beneath him, not the other way around, and both these women would be on their way to Denver City right now.
White Eagle glanced down at Walks Alone’s face, half white, half red. A straight line stretched horizontally across one cheek, over her nose, and across the other cheek, dividing her face. The top, white as snow, the bottom red and sunburned.
“The Great Spirit of the Sun not only touches her hair, but touches her face,” Running Cloud said. “Maybe we should call her Stripe?”
“Then you may have the honor of telling the woman her new name.”
Running Cloud chuckled.
~*~
Anna awoke to find herself on the warrior’s horse and practically drooling on the man’s chest. She pulled away, her hair matted against her cheek from sleep. Heat crept from her neck to her face as she loosened her hold on the Indian. How dreadful. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to fall asleep on him like that. She had actually fallen asleep. In the midst of dangerous peril, she’d fallen asleep!
But she’d been so exhausted and weary from all that had happened, she shouldn’t be too hard on herself for losing what self-control and dignity she had left. Now that her headache was gone and the air cooled, she felt refreshed, despite the fact that she was still held captive.
She looked for Beth and found her still sitting in front of Running Cloud. Beth sat straight, chin high, and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face with surprising calmness. Why could Anna not muster the same?
Evergreens surrounded them, and they were no longer on the plains. The scent of pine filled the air as the horses’ hooves made their way over rocks and rugged terrain. Birds called to one another, and one swooped down close to the riders. The warriors wore solemn faces, seemingly unaware of the beauty surrounding them.
The recent events turned over in Anna’s mind. Earlier, White Eagle had spoken in English. Would he understand her? She cleared her throat. “Did you kill Bet’s husband?” she whispered, horrified