He rode northwest into the early morning for several hours, stopping now and then to study the tracks. The spring weather was finally turning warm, except for the occasionally chill nights. As he rode, he thought about Deer. He didn’t love her, but she was pretty and agreeable, not fiery and contrary, like some girls. The bright blue eyes in the half-breed face flashed through his mind. Sassy, spirited, and Cheyenne.
Deer would make him a good wife, taking care of all his needs and producing sons for him. In his old age, he would sit in his earthen lodge with the other elders of the tribe, surrounded by dark grandchildren. There would be no pale eyes and light skin among them.
That was all most of his fellow scouts hoped for. It was living among the whites that had made him think a marriage should be something more than that. But marrying old Crow Feather’s daughter would make Johnny more acceptable to the tribe. Pretty, pliant, and Pawnee. She would never do something as bold and outrageous as steal a man’s best horse. His head told him she was a good choice. His heart told him something else.
Johnny rode on, following the trail. In places, it grew so faint, only a skilled tracker could have followed it. Judging from the condition of the tracks and the freshness of the horse droppings, he must be gaining on her.
As he rode, he thought about a place of his own. Where did he really belong? He didn’t really feel at ease among the other Pawnee scouts or in their villages. Yet as a full-blood Indian, he really didn’t fit in in the white soldiers’ civilization.
His secret yearning, deep in his heart that he had shared with no one, was for a small ranch out somewhere on the frontier. There would be a log home built with his own hands, a stream, and trees. He saw fat cattle grazing in tall prairie grass and fine colts sired by Katis munching hay in the red barn.
He had even designed his brand: a simple outline of a playing card, an ace, of course. Johnny Ace was good with a deck of cards and careful with his scout’s pay. While the other men drank up and wasted their money, his was saved. Someday, maybe he could turn his back and ride out to build that small Eden of his own on the frontier. What good was it all without a woman to hold in his arms on a cold winter night or without sons to leave it to?
He brushed that thought aside, thinking of his stallion. Yes, Katis would be his herd sire . . . but first, Johnny had to reclaim the horse from that star-eyed girl.
With renewed determination and anger, Johnny rode steadily to the Northwest. He realized that the farther he rode, the better his chances of crossing a Cheyenne war party’s trail. Certainly they had been seen many times lately through Nebraska as spring came and the Dog Soldiers took the war trail again. If he ran into them, he was outnumbered and stood a fair chance of losing his scalp. But he was too angry to care. The way he felt right now, he would have welcomed a good fight.
Puzzled, he studied the trail ahead that led toward a grove of trees on a creek. The horse had whirled on its hind legs and taken off at a run the other direction. From the distance between the hoofprints, he could tell that the stallion had galloped.
A feeling of dread and despair rose in him as he nudged his mount into a lope, following the churned-up trail. Luci had been pursued by other horses, also moving at a gallop. The other horses had been unshod, so they were Indian ponies, but what tribe? If the pursuers were Cheyenne, Arapaho, or Sioux, she’d be safe, since those tribes would befriend her. Or would they? Would the Dog Soldiers see Star Eyes as a half-breed white girl and use her for their pleasure?
With his heart pumping in alarm, he loped along the muddy ground that had been churned up by the galloping hooves of many horses. The hoofprints told him the story: Katis far out in the lead, then the others gaining on him as the great stallion tired. The crushed dry grasses marked where the horse had stumbled and gone down.
He dismounted and squatted to read the many moccasin tracks. There were Star Eyes’ tracks, all right. The slight girl had feet that would fit in his big hand. His fingers trembled as he ran them over her small print.
Luci. He saw her in his mind as she had been that night he had carried her in from the cold, the night her mother died and left her all alone. How frightened and defenseless she had seemed wrapped in nothing but a blanket, huddled on his bed. Her eyes had seemed big as blue stars, looking up at him. He forgot that he was furious with her, that she had stolen his prized horse. He forgot everything but how helpless she would be among a bunch of braves. If anyone dared hurt her . . . his hand reached for his knife.
With bile rising in his throat at the thought of what a bunch of men might have done to Luci, he strode up and down through the crushed grass, looking for clues. At any moment, he expected to find her naked and ravished body where her pursuers might have left her. If she was lucky, she might have been dead before each man took his turn, grunting and humping between the slim legs, her scalp cut away before she was even dead.
He walked the area, dreading, searching. She wasn’t dead, at least not yet. He found no body. He did find Katis’s big prints in a line of ponies headed back toward the east. Maybe the Indians had taken her prisoner and were carrying her back to their camp.
He mounted up with a sigh of relief, then turned his chestnut to follow the new trail. Where would her captors take her? Could they be Pawnee? Crow Feather’s village was only a few miles from here. If that was true, the braves would recognize Katis and return the horse to him.
As for the girl, she would now belong to the warrior. who captured her. It would serve her right to end up spread under some dark brown brave who would use her for his pleasure. Certainly the Cavalry from Fort McPherson wouldn’t care about the fate of one half-breed laundry girl and come looking for her. The warrior who owned her might even offer her to Johnny for his use when he came visiting the village. A captive had no rights, especially an enemy Cheyenne girl.
Johnny’s groin ached with the thought of having her lying beneath him. But then he imagined her delicate face, so frightened and trembling, and he knew he could never force himself on Luci. The thought her captor might made Johnny’s stomach tie up in a hard knot.
He dug his moccasins heels into the chestnut’s flanks and took off at a gallop, following the tracks. Sure enough, they led back toward the east. He began to hope they might be leading to Crow Feather’s village. The man didn’t like Johnny much; he was too traditional and set in his ways. But at least Johnny had a few acquaintances in that village, even if they weren’t close friends.
It was afternoon when Johnny rode into the cluster of big earthen lodges on the Loup Fork stream. Mongrel dogs ran out to bark at him as he passed. Big-eyed children and laughing women stopped their chatter and stared as he rode in. Warriors looked at him and a few nodded politely, but their attitude showed they thought of Johnny Ace as an outsider. While the Pawnees were allies of the soldiers, they were suspicious of any of their own who seemed more at home among the whites than among their own people. All because of the sanctimonious Mrs. Platt and her school.
As he rode through the village, he heard a welcoming whinny and looked to his left. Katis stood tied before a lodge. With a sigh of relief, Johnny dismounted, patted the black nose. The horse nuzzled Johnny and made soft sounds in his throat at the touch of his beloved master.
“Katis, I thought I had seen the last of you!”
Deer came out of her father’s lodge, her face bright with pleasure at seeing him. “Asataka! Father was just getting ready to send a messenger to the fort to tell you we had found Katis. Father says he’s the finest in this area!”
Johnny nodded to her, looking around anxiously. “That’s true.” He spoke Pawnee so that she could understand him, but it was a second language to him. after all these years. He thought in English. “I owe your father many thanks for finding my horse.” Luci. What had they done with Luci?
She smiled broadly. “Father has often said how much he admires the horse and what a bride gift Katis would make.”
He decided to ignore the remark. There was not
hing on earth that could make him part with Katis; certainly not just to marry Deer, even though she was pretty and pleasant. “What happened to the girl who rode him?”
“Why do you care?” Her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Most would not ask after the fate of a horse thief, especially not a Cheyenne enemy of our people.”
Shrugging, Johnny stood with feet wide apart, looking at her. Deer was taller and older than Luci. “I don’t care except that since it was my horse she stole, I want a hand in deciding her fate.”
Her face relaxed and she put her hand on his arm, certainly a bold move for a proper unmarried girl. “Don’t worry,” Deer said, “she’ll get what’s coming to her. She’s tied up in the ceremonial lodge. In the meantime, let’s talk of something besides that worthless half-breed.”
He heaved a sigh of relief. Luci was all right. He started to ask to see her, then realized it would anger Deer.
She caught his arm, led him inside. Johnny went reluctantly, his mind busy with Luci. Now Deer turned, slipped her arms around his neck, and pressed her full breasts against the butter-soft buckskin shift he wore. He felt his manhood harden and throb as she pressed herself against him all the way down their bodies.
“Deer, don’t do that. It isn’t proper. Your father would be angry with both of us if he walked in now. Crow Feather doesn’t like me anyway. ”
“He’d learn to like you if you were his son-in-law; especially if you gave him a lodge full of strong grandsons to brighten his old age.”
That was true. And hadn’t he been thinking that exact thing . . . when he wasn’t thinking about Luci?
She leaned against him, raising her face up to him. He could feel the nubs of her nipples through both their clothing. “Kiss me as you must have kissed white girls,” she pouted.
He remembered the fleeting sweetness of Luci’s lips. “Behave like a Pawnee maiden-modest and proper.” He reached up and tried to break the grip of her arms locked around his neck.
“That hasn’t been getting me what I want. Perhaps I should act more like the white eyes and you would want me.”
Before he realized what she meant to do, Deer reached up and kissed him-a long, lingering kiss, probing with the tip of her tongue against his lips.
For a moment, he weakened and opened his mouth, pulling her against him hard. He sucked her tongue deep between his lips and ground his throbbing manhood against the vee of her thighs. She was behaving like a filly in heat, and like a stallion, he reacted, wanting to throw her down on a blanket and relieve the ache inside him
As she rubbed against him, he slipped his hand down the front of her leather shift, covering her breast with his wide hand, feeling her nipple harden against his palm. His breath came in ragged gasps as he kissed her deeply. In wild abandon, he kissed her eyes, the edges of her lips. With his eyes closed, he could pretend anything. “Luci . . .” he gasped. “Oh, Luci . . .”
“What did you say?” She stopped, looking up at him in puzzlement.
The eyes looking up into his were dark, not the color of starlight. “Nothing. I got carried away there for a moment.” He wouldn’t admit that he was aching inside, that he was almost in pain, he needed a woman so much. The ache that a slight Cheyenne girl had built.
Almost regretfully, he reached up and unclasped Deer’s arms from around his neck. “Stop this before we both do something we’ll regret.”
Her full breasts heaved with gasping breaths as she looked at him. “I wouldn’t regret it. If I were heavy with child, my father would have to accept you as his son-in-law.”
Johnny needed a woman. He should ask for Deer. Then with no guilt, he could go ahead and use her to relieve his need. Yes, that’s all it would be. His heart was with another. “Tell me where they put the captured girl.”
“Luci?”
“Yes, of course Luci, I-” He stopped, realizing from the jealousy in her face that she had trapped him into admitting what she must already suspect. Behind that pretty face, the pliant Pawnee maiden was really a conniving, jealous bitch. He shrugged carelessly. “Of course I knew her name. She does laundry for the soldiers at the fort.”
She whirled away from him, pacing angrily. “I don’t believe you! There’s something more here; something shocking between a Pawnee and a Cheyenne!”
“No, she means nothing to me. She stole my horse. I’ll take her back to face the white man’s justice.”
“She’s under Pawnee justice.” Deer confronted him, arms folded, mouth grim. “My father captured her so he will be the one to decide what is done with her.”
He had a mounting sense of dread. “The soldiers won’t like it if they don’t get the laundry girl back.”
“They won’t care what happens to her. She’s Cheyenne, remember? The soldiers don’t like Cheyenne any better than the Pawnee do and hunt for them with scouting parties all the time. You lead those parties.”
He had a sudden feeling of helplessness as he stood there feet wide apart, hand on the hilt of his knife. “Crow Feather dotes on you, his only child. He will do whatever you suggest with her, Deer.”
She looked smug, triumphant. “There is some talk of offering your Cheyenne bitch as a sacrifice to the Morning Star, the way your father’s Skidi clan used to.”
“The human sacrifice?” Johnny gripped his knife hilt until he felt his knuckles ache. “We haven’t done that ceremony in at least a generation. Crow described it to me one time. He had seen it as a young boy.”
She smiled slowly. “Some say we should return to the old ways, and the Great Spirit, Ti-ra’-wa, will smile on us again.”
He managed to stop himself from grabbing her, choking her in the sheer red rage he felt. He took a deep breath and regained control. “What is it you’re telling me?”
She reached out, ran her fingertips along the open neck of his shirt. “I want you, Johnny, any way I can get you. What I’m saying is: marry me and I’ll save your Cheyenne bitch from the bloody Morning Star sacrifice!”
Chatter Seven
Luci stood tied inside the big earthen lodge, her wrists and feet spread-eagled and bound to a post on each side of her. She felt as helpless as a cross-tied filly, unable to move in any direction. .
She took a deep, shuddering breath, smelling the scent of the musty, darkened interior, the little fire that crackled in the center of the lodge. Could she escape? Pulling at the rawhide thongs that bound her, she decided it was impossible. That the Pawnee meant to kill her, she had no doubt. But at least she hadn’t been raped . . . yet.
Luci glanced down at the torn, dirty blue-flowered dress. She had never owned anything as nice as this dress that Johnny Ace had bought her, and now it was ruined. Johnny Ace. If she could only get a message to him.
You little fool, she chided herself. He’s Pawnee himself; he wouldn’t do anything to help you. Especially not after you stole his favorite horse.
How she wished she knew what was happening outside in the village. She had been hanging here for what seemed like centuries. She couldn’t even be sure whether it was day or night, because her only light was the dim fire. If only she’d found the Cheyenne before the enemy had found her!
She heard footsteps outside. Then a big, wide-shouldered man stooped and came through the small door.
“Johnny! Thank God, I–” Luci broke off her glad cry as she saw the cold expression on the scout’s face, and realized that a pretty girl had come into the lodge behind him.
He looked her up and down. “So, Luci, you steal my horse and get caught. All your tribe are thieves.”
Her heart sank at his words. “I–I needed a way to return to my own people and was not sure I would be welcome without an impressive gift to give my uncle.”
The other girl’s lips curled with scorn and she linked her arm through Johnny’s possessively. “Half-breed fort whore! But since I want no blood spilled during the celebration of our wedding, maybe father will set you free.”
The smug words cut into Luci more than
the rawhide thongs that bound her. Her words were as bitter as she felt. “So the big, stupid Pawnee scout takes a bride.”
Johnny rubbed the back of his hand across the side of his head. “Be silent, Cheyenne wench. You are lucky to escape with your life through Deer’s generosity. Don’t try my patience any further.”
“I seemed to have been doing that from the first time our paths crossed.”
A man’s voice called from somewhere outside and Deer half turned. “There’s Father. I have to talk to him about the wedding, Asataka. Give me a few minutes to prepare him, then you come join us by our lodge fire so we can make plans.”
She turned and left the lodge. The silence hung heavily in the air, broken only by the crackle of the fire.
Hesitantly, he approached and looked down at Luci. “I seem to spend much time doing things to protect you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She wanted to hate him, but all she could think of was that now he would be sleeping in the other girl’s arms.
He started to say something, then seemed to think better of it. “Nothing. When you get back to the fort, go with Miss Starrett to Denver. I think you’ll be safe there and maybe you’ll have a chance to better yourself.”
“You keep bossing my life! I never asked you to look after me, to stick your nose in my business!”
He moved nearer, and stood close enough that his hand reached out and touched her cheek. “If you only knew what I’ve done to protect you, Star Eyes. I. . . .” .
Before she realized his intent, he reached out and embraced her. Tied as she was, she could do nothing as he moved to crush her against his chest and kiss her hair.
She fought to get away from him but she was powerless against his strength. She glared up at him. “I hate you. Pawnee dog! Get your hands off me!”
“I will kiss you,” he murmured. “God knows it’s cost me enough!”
Cheyenne Caress Page 10