by Linda Ladd
She stared into the flames, the tether around her neck stretching out tautly in front of her. She was uncomfortable, the bindings cutting into her wrists, the gag making it difficult to breathe. She wondered who he had seen. Was it Raging Buffalo? Or Lone Wolf? They were so close! If she could only get to them! But it was impossible. She could hardly move, and she knew Tracker would leave her tied until they were gone.
After a long time, she lay on her side, depression settling heavily on her heart. Tears filled her eyes again as she thought of her mother, Gentle Reed. She would be worried about her, grieving her for dead. She missed her so much, missed the long rides in the sunshine with her good friend, Tree Winds. Tracker was cruel to take her away from everyone she loved, to tie her in a dark cavern like an animal when her people were so close. The fear that she would never see the Cheyenne again tightened painfully around her heart, and she wept softly at the agony of her helplessness.
In time her eyes grew heavy, and she dozed, awakening much later, shivering against the chilled air. The fire was nearly out, and she rose awkwardly, then moved toward it, but drew up abruptly as a slight scraping sound caught her attention. She turned her head slowly, cold chills undulating in a slow crawl from the base of her spine. Then she saw it.
Horror heaved her stomach into a forward roll, and she watched out of terrified eyes as a snake as thick as her arm slithered toward her, creating ghastly designs on the dusty floor, its deadly rattles held slightly erect. Buried memories oozed out of the hidden corners of her mind until she relived the long-ago terror when serpents crawled beneath her childhood skirts, their heavy coils weighing upon her legs.
She stood paralyzed as the huge serpent touched her foot, ripple after ripple of cold fear going through her as its cold body encircled her ankle, its flat, triangular head nudging its way slowly up her calf. She squeezed her eyes shut, her mind rebelling in abhorrence, as the viper coiled upon her, sucking all warmth from her flesh, until she was left as cold as the deadly parasite clinging to her legs.
Later, when the serpent slowly unwound and slid to a warmer spot near the fire, it took long moments for Starfire's shock to recede; then she was left trembling so violently that her teeth chattered audibly in the silent chamber. It took every ounce of will for her to back away, her wide, fearful eyes glued on the ugly, slit-eyed stare of the rattler. When the backs of her knees touched the stone shelf, she lay slowly upon her side, inching toward the wall until the rope around her neck drew tight. She lay frozen in abject terror then, her eyes never leaving the rattlesnake, moving lazily and at will around the fire, until the flames died and all was dark.
Six
Tracker lay high on the rock cliff, his rifle loaded and resting across his forearm, as he intently studied the terrain below. He peered through the long spyglass, magnifying the Cheyenne braves as they moved among the dense copse of blue spruce and aspen trees below. It was a small regrouping camp, and he could make out some men resting their mounts while others scoured the surrounding woods. Scouts returned at short intervals, and Tracker decided with foreboding that they'd tracked him this far and were trying to pick up his trail again.
As he watched, a group of ten rode in, sliding with confident grace off their ponies, to seek out a tall, powerfully built man whose appearance clearly identified him as the chieftain. Each group reported to the same man, and Tracker focused the spyglass on him, wondering if he could be the one he'd bound in the nuptial tipi. He was startled to realize how curious he was to see the man Starfire would have wed.
The buck was taller than the others, with a strong, tightly muscled physique. He wore a dark loincloth, his muscular torso was streaked with yellow war paint, and long jagged black marks coursed down each lean cheek. Even from his perch in the rocks, Tracker could detect suppressed rage emanating from his erect stance and frustrated gestures. The intensity of his stern face assured Tracker that this was Lone Wolf, infuriated that his beautiful silver-haired bride had been stolen from him. An aura of unrequited injury surrounded the tough, good-looking warrior. He'd be a formidable opponent in his fury of vengeance, and Tracker would face his wrath if the cave was discovered.
A sudden flurry of activity arrested his attention, and his eyes narrowed as the Cheyenne kicked out the fires and swung bareback upon their mounts, then moved off to the east. He breathed easier, but remained where he was, watching and waiting while darkness slowly descended upon the landscape until it had swallowed the last vestiges of day. He was anxious to return to Starfire; she would be uncomfortable by now, bound as she was. He had left her alone for a long time, but he had had to make sure the Cheyenne were gone for good. He couldn't risk being surprised in the cave.
The cricket's strident song was loud and steady and the moon a pale crescent of gold over the trees when he moved surefootedly atop the high rocks. He dropped soundlessly at the opening of the cave and made his way quickly to Starfire's chamber. It was shrouded in darkness.
“Starfire? Where are you?” he called out anxiously.
He frowned as his voice faded with an eerie loneliness. She should not have allowed the fire to burn down. There had been an ample supply of wood, and she could have kicked pieces of it unto the fire. He paused uneasily, the first flickerings of fear licking at him. Unless she was gone. Panic surged, and he moved quickly toward the ashes. He threw a handful of sticks on the glowing embers, trying to kindle the fire, peering into the shadows as he fanned it into a small blaze. He saw the tether then, stretching into the dark recess of the shelf. She must have fallen asleep. She was still with him. Much relieved, he took the time to put a log on the fire. When the flames rose higher, Tracker saw her and froze.
Starfire lay rigid upon the shelf, glazed eyes focused unblinkingly on a huge rattlesnakelying beside her. The diamond-patterned coils nearly touched her cheek, and Tracker swallowed hard, standing motionless. His eyes sought Starfire where she lay as still as death, and his gut clenched painfully at her danger. He inched forward, easing his gun from his holster as he thought quickly. A shot would bring Cheyenne from miles around, or even cause a landslide. He slid the revolver back in place and slowly withdrew his knife from the scabbard on his thigh. He glanced around, afraid any wrong move on his part would cause the snake to strike.
A blanket lay on the shelf, and Tracker began to move his hand toward it. The movement caused the rattler to raise its head warily, alert to danger as it wound itself into a posture to attack. The deadly rattles began their death music inches from Starfire's frozen face. Tracker hesitated with bated breath, then moved like lightning, flinging the blanket over the snake and hurling it off the shelf with one quick jerk.
Tracker was after it at once and lunged at the snake's head as it darted from beneath the blanket. It struck at him with one deadly whipcord stroke, but he dodged its bared fangs and desperately grabbed for its head. He caught it too low but brought his blade down against the head as the thick, muscular length entwined itself around his arm. He hacked at its head over and over, until the coils finally loosened, then he threw it from him, sinking to shaky knees as he watched the serpent writhe obscenely in the throes of death.
He was at Starfire's side moments later, slitting the cords from her wrists, speaking to her soothingly in a low voice. He cut away the gag, then swept back the silky hair to remove the loop from her neck. He winced at the ugly bruise on her tender nape and murmured softly, “I'm here now, Starfire. It's all right. You're safe.”
He gathered her small body close, pulling her onto his lap. Her eyes were open, unfocused horror frozen into their blue-violet depths.
“Starfire, listen to me. It's gone.”
Tracker gave her a gentle shake, then held her tightly, smoothing her hair with his palm, crooning soothing Cheyenne words. He rocked her for a time, until her cold skin gradually warmed and her slender body began to tremble.
Tears welled, and she gave a pathetic little sob that wrenched Tracker's heart. He held her as tightly as he could with
out crushing her, and she clutched at him desperately, her soft cheeks wet with tears. She wept into his shirt, her words smothered and incoherent.
“They were on my legs ... and Mama screamed ... then there was blood...”
Tracker cradled her shuddering body, sick that he'd left her to endure such suffering.
“Did it crawl on you, sweet? Did it hurt you?” he asked, his mouth pressed against the soft silver at her temple.
Her words were breathless as she jerked with great wrenching sobs. “Raging Buffalo killed it ... Mama had an arrow in her neck ... and my white apron was all red...”
Her voice rose close to hysteria as she relived forgotten memories of her capture, and Tracker sought to comfort her.
“It's all right now, my love, you're safe,” he whispered. “I'll never let anything frighten you again. I swear it.”
Starfire raised tear-drenched lashes, staring into his dark, compassionate face. She never wanted to be alone in the dark again, never wanted to be afraid again. He'd saved her, he would protect her. At that moment, her fear of him slipped away and she forgot he'd taken her from her people, she forgot he was her enemy. He was the one who'd killed the snake, who wouldn't let anything ever hurt her again. Her slender arms moved slowly around his neck, her eyes like warm pools of lavender as she looked at him with a new soft trust.
Tracker stared in fascination at her lovely eyes, the long, black eyelashes spiky with tears, before his gaze dropped to her lips, shining red and moist in the dim light. He could not stop himself, and his mouth dropped to hers, caressing the incredible softness. He'd wanted to kiss her for so long, so very long; and now as her lips parted willingly, his blood raced. One large hand went to her hair, long brown fingers sliding into the soft, silvery tresses, as the other lightly touched her naked thigh, then slid slowly up the silken flesh to the curve of her hip.
She was soft, felt so unbelievably good, and his mouth moved across her fragile eyelids to one dainty, shell-like ear. He pressed gentle kisses into the hollow below, then moved slowly along the cord of her neck. As his eager mouth explored her smooth shoulder, somewhere deep in the farthest corners of his mind, conscience gnawed, warning that he was taking advantage of her vulnerable state.
But she moaned weakly as his warm lips intruded into the throat of her shirt, and he knew then he would not stop this time, not unless she made him.
Starfire drifted in a vague cocoon of pleasure, feeling his strong arms lift her easily and take her down with him. She clung to the manly strength, her loins throbbing with a life of their own, as his fiery mouth dropped nibbling kisses across her collarbone to the staccato pulse at the base of her throat. She wanted to be held, to be comforted, to be safe in the circle that his steel embrace offered. She wanted to block away for good the obscene feel of the rattlesnake as it had writhed upon her cringing flesh.
“Hold me, hold me...”
Her Cheyenne words were low, murmured huskily into his ear, and he groaned and found her waiting mouth hungrily. Starfire tingled all over, letting the lovely unknown tide of desire rule her actions, breathing shallowly as his gentle hands caressed her satin skin beneath the shirt. She began to quiver as his fingers released one button after another, then gently pushed the shirt aside, baring the silken perfection of her body to his pleasure.
“You are so very beautiful,” he whispered in gruff awe, his eyes darkened to royal blue with the passion she aroused in him.
He lowered his head to her throat, and Starfire closed her eyes, sliding her slender fingers into the thick blond hair as his mouth pressed hot and gentle kisses along the honey flesh of her breast. She was enthralled by each new sensation, not believing such pleasure could be had from the touch of a man. She cried out in a bittersweet shock when the warmth of his lips took the rosy peak of her breast. She pressed her small body into his urgently as long ripples of reaction raced over her slowly fraying nerve endings. It was then that she began to lose touch with reality, victim of his gentle, persuasive lovemaking, groaning in protest while holding supplicating arms out to him when he rose to remove his clothes. Moments later his long, hard length was beside her, her palms against the crisp blond furring of his chest. The hardness of his desire was like a brand against her soft hips, but she felt no fear, sliding her arms around his waist, then up over the rippling, sinewy muscles of his broad shoulders. His breath caught hoarsely in her ear as she lowered her mouth trailing warm kisses, across his shoulder then arched against him, sensuously moving the fullness of her breasts against his chest.
Her willing passion turned Tracker to flame, every nerve and fiber in his body craving her, aching for her, but his mind warned urgently of her virginity, shrieked at him to proceed with gentleness. Starfire's body was in a fever pitch of excitement, his expert lovemaking building the tension until she felt she could not bear the pleasure he created. She shivered all over as he moved atop her, his hips moving forward, his lips upon her brow and hair.
Starfire bit her lip at the first tingle of pain, surprised he hurt her. She began to struggle, suddenly afraid, but he held her in a gentle band of steel, whispering hoarsely into her hair, “It won't last long, sweet, and I'll never hurt you again. It's the only way....”
The sudden pain was sharp, but her cry was muffled by his warm mouth upon hers, kissing her until the hurt faded. Tracker's hard body moved with hers, both his huge hands tangled in the silvery mass of her hair, his lips upon hers with a gentle forcefulness that reeled her senses. She instinctively moved with him, her small palms sliding over the iron-hard, rippling contours of his back, her grip tightening as the exquisite delight built until her fingers dug into his back as the explosion of ecstasy ripped its way through her blazing body. She arched to meet the pleasure again and again, her cries of bewilderment muffled against Tracker's wildly beating heart as they soared to infinity, starbursts of pure rapture fusing them into one.
Afterward they lay entwined, Starfire's small fingers clutching his thick hair, his arms tightened around her in fierce possession. After a time, Tracker turned on his back, pulling her tightly against his side, until she nestled comfortably in the curve of his arm.
She slept at once, warm, content, sated; but Tracker lay awake for a long time, half awed by the passion he'd awakened in the tiny, lovely girl. She pleasure him more than any other woman he'd ever had, and the knowledge that he was the first to lie with her filled him with a special tenderness toward her. He gathered her closer, intoxicated by the sweet fragrance of her hair where it spread out in a silky, shiny swirl upon his broad chest. He closed his eyes, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He'd been sent to capture her, and instead he'd been captured by her. He hoped she would now be able to reconcile herself to going back with him. He intended to help her in the months ahead of them, to be with her through it all, because he'd found a treasure in this dark cave, hidden in the mountains. A treasure he meant to keep.
Starfire awakened later, her small body safely snuggled alongside the long, hard length of the big white man. She lay against his chest and could hear the strong, even thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear. She moved her palm idly over his chest, thinking of what had happened between them. He'd made her his woman, as Lone Wolf would have done if Tracker had not stolen her away. He was her enemy, a white man, but he had touched her with gentleness and awakened pleasures she could never have imagined.
It was shocking to think that she'd wanted him so desperately, but she did not feel regret and smiled at the current of warm affection which spread through her body. She raised her head and dared a quick look at his face. He was sleeping peacefully. She realized with a start that it was the first time she'd ever seen him completely relaxed. His face no longer seemed hard and forbidding, and she raised herself on one elbow to study him closely. His arms immediately tightened around her, his blue eyes open and on her face.
They stared at each other a moment, and Tracker looked at the honey skin, the long dark lashes surrounding clear vio
let warmth, and could not prevent his hand from reaching for her, and he traced her soft cheek with his finger.
“I'm sorry I hurt you, Starfire,” he whispered.
Her eyes darted to his in surprise. The pain was already forgotten, but she could not never forget the way his touch turned her skin to fire.
“You gave me much pleasure,” she answered softly, her violet eyes showing their wonder. “What is this magic you work upon me?”
Tracker smiled at her innocence, his teeth white against his bronzed face, and she returned his smile shyly. He drew her down beside him and pulled her close. She came willingly, and he said softly, “You are my magic, my sweet, the only magic I'll ever want.”
They lay together quietly, Tracker running his hand slowly over the supple curve of her back, wondering at her thoughts. He propped his head up on his hand and gazed down into her expressive eyes.
“What are you thinking?”
Starfire spoke truthfully, her delicately arched brows drawn together slightly.
“I am thinking that I am not sure I wish Raging Buffalo to cut out your sky eyes after all.”
Tracker leaned back his head and laughed.
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
She smiled, and he grew serious, afraid of her reaction to his next words.
“I still have to take you back, Starfire, but I'll be with you. I won't let anyone hurt you.”
She was silent, her eyes downcast.
He watched her carefully and asked, “Will you trust me and go back?”