Wind Rider

by Connie Mason

“I have horses to sell to the army. Are you interested?” His abrupt manner was not unusual. Many mountain men and trappers were stingy with words.

  “Depends. Where are they?”

  “Outside. There are ten, all healthy. Will you look at them?”

  Since the army was always in need of good horses, the lieutenant nodded and followed Wind Rider out the door. When he saw the string of horses his eyes widened, and he ran a hand over the sleek flanks of the nearest pony. “Nice animal.” When he lifted up a foot to inspect the hoof, his expression changed and he looked at Wind Rider with renewed interest. “These are Indian ponies.”

  Wind Rider stared at the lieutenant, neither denying nor confirming his allegation. When the lieutenant finished his inspection he turned to Wind Rider and said, “They are all Indian ponies. Where did you get them?”

  Wind Rider merely smiled, refusing to answer.

  “If you took them from Indians, you’re damn lucky to escape with your scalp intact.”

  “I am a trader; Indians welcome me to their camps. Do you want the horses?”

  “How much do you want for them?”

  Wind Rider suggested a price mentioned by Coyote, hoping he sounded knowledgeable. The lieutenant thought about it for a few minutes and named a price somewhat less but still fair. Elated, Wind Rider eagerly accepted.

  “What is your packhorse carrying?” the lieutenant asked, eyeing the bulging bundles curiously.

  “Furs that I trapped during the winter. I wish to sell them.”

  “You sure do talk funny, mister. I didn’t catch your name.”

  With a jolt of anguish, Wind Rider realized the moment he had dreaded had arrived. Yet there was no escaping it. In a white man’s world he must use a white man’s name. For the first time since he was a young child he used the name he had been given by his birth parents. “Ryder. Ryder Larson.” He was surprised that speaking his real name had come so easily. He still wasn’t comfortable with it, but it didn’t sound as strange to his ears as he’d expected.

  “Well, Mr. Larson, come inside and I’ll pay you for your horses. And if you’re looking for a fair price for your furs, Fred Riley over at the trading post is the man to see.”

  “Thank you, I’ll do that.”

  “Where did you say you’re from?” Still curious about the strange young man who had turned up from nowhere, the lieutenant felt compelled to delve more deeply into his background.

  “Nowhere in particular. I live in the mountains, trap some, trade some, and roam at will.”

  “Are you friendly with Indians?”

  “You could say that.”

  Talkative by nature, the lieutenant asked, “In your travels did you ever cross paths with the captive white woman Lieutenant Gilmore brought back from Red Cloud’s village? Rumor has it that some heathen savage raped and beat her and forced her to become his whore. Pretty little thing, too. She’s a runaway indentured servant. Her master offered a reward for her return.”

  Wind Rider lowered his eyes, afraid they would give away his rage. Only the nerve jerking along his jaw hinted at the crushing blow Hannah had dealt him. “I haven’t been to Red Cloud’s camp in a long time. Lieutenant Gilmore is a brave man, going after the woman alone.”

  The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. “Did I say alone?”

  Wind Rider shrugged. “I merely assumed he was alone. Has he sent the woman back to her master?”

  “Not yet. She’s staying in Captain Coon’s quarters. The captain took his wife to Cheyenne to visit relatives. If you want my opinion, Lieutenant Gilmore is sweet on the woman.”

  Wind Rider’s brow furrowed. “Sweet on her?”

  The lieutenant shook his head. “Don’t you know anything? It means he wants her.” He sent Wind Rider a knowing leer. “You know what I mean. I’m not sure I’d want a woman who’s spread her legs for a dirty savage, but there’s no accounting for men’s tastes.”

  Wind Rider had to force himself to stand still. If he followed his natural inclination, he would launch himself at the garrulous blue coat and slit his throat. His hands clenched at his sides as he waited for his temper to subside. When he was able to speak again he said, “Does this Lieutenant Gilmore intend to keep the woman here with him?”

  ”Naw. He can’t; it’s not legal. He has to return her to her master. He’s taking a patrol tomorrow and escorting her to Denver.”

  Having heard all he needed to know and more than he wanted, as well, Wind Rider took the money the lieutenant counted out for him and left. His next stop was the trading post, where he showed his furs to Fred Riley. Once again Coyote’s advice proved invaluable as he dickered with the storekeeper. The lieutenant had been correct; Fred Riley was an honest man who offered a fair price for the furs. The money went into a pouch Wind Rider carried around his waist.

  Wind Rider left the trading post and lingered on the wide porch for a few minutes to get his bearings. By now it was growing dark, and men were returning to their homes or mess halls for their supper. His original plan had been to camp a few hundred feet from the fort and leave for Denver the next morning, but upon learning that Hannah was still at Fort Laramie he had altered his plans. On the verge of stepping out of the lengthening shadows, Wind Rider froze, his silver eyes narrowed on a man and woman passing by. Enough daylight remained to recognize the copper sheen of her hair.

  Hannah! The intensity and fire of his emotions raged out of control when he saw the blue coat with her lean forward and whisper intimately into her ear. Her tinkling laughter set his blood to boiling. She had never laughed like that with him. Was that Lieutenant Gilmore, he wondered, the man who was “sweet” on her? Did Hannah return his feelings? Obviously, she did. Was everything about her false?

  His temper nearly exploded as he watched them walk arm in arm toward a small house, one of many along Officer s Row. He stepped from the porch and followed, keeping to the shadows. He stopped abruptly when they paused at the front door of a small cottage, speaking quietly for a few minutes while Gilmore grasped Hannah’s hands and stared into her eyes. Wind Rider did not notice how quickly she removed her hands from his grip, or that she deliberately retreated from the subtle aggressiveness of his body. What he did see were her smile and her flirtatious manner. Did all white women act so shamelessly with strange men? Cheyenne women were shy and highly moral, even more so than Sioux maidens.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when Hannah disappeared inside the house and Gilmore returned to his own quarters. If Gilmore had gone inside with Hannah, Wind Rider wouldn’t have been responsible for his actions. As it was, he could hardly keep himself from killing the man.

  Wind Rider returned for his horse and led the animal across the nearly deserted parade grounds around to the back of the building that he had seen Hannah enter. His conscience told him he was behaving foolishly, that he could get himself killed if he wasn’t careful, but his death would be worth it. Just seeing the terrified look on Hannah’s face when he confronted her with her lies would go a long way to restore his pride. He wasn’t certain what he intended as punishment; he would know that when the time came.

  Tethering his horse a short distance behind the house, Wind Rider crept to the back window and peeked inside. It was fully dark now, and he could see a light coming from somewhere inside the house. A satisfied smile stretched his lips when he saw he was looking directly into the bedroom. He tested the window to see if it would open. It did, noiselessly. It never entered his mind to worry about what could happen to him if he was caught as he slipped inside and moved silently into a shadowed corner of the room.

  Hannah fixed herself a cold supper, heated a kettle of water for tea, and sat down to eat. Trent Gilmore had been kind enough to provide food for the few days she was to remain at Fort Laramie. He had finally received the colonel’s permission to escort her to Denver personally, and they were to leave tomorrow. His excuse for escorting her himself was that he wanted to confront Mr. Harley and inform him that the law frowned upon the
mistreatment or abuse of indentured servants, and to let him know that he intended to watch out for Hannah in the future.

  Of course, Hannah wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know Trent was interested in her, despite the knowledge that she had been Wind Rider’s woman in every way. Trent appeared to be a kind man, but something about him bothered her. She could love no man but Wind Rider. She’d never forget the piercing brand of his possession, or how eagerly she’d welcomed the thick, heavy thrust of his hardness deep inside her. If only she could have told him good-bye, let him know no one could ever take his place in her heart. But Red Cloud had sent her away and she had gone.

  Hannah washed and put away the dishes, grateful to Captain Coon for the loan of his house. Picking up the lamp, she walked the short distance to the bedroom. As she stepped inside the room, Hannah felt the hairs rise at the back of her neck and stopped abruptly just inside the door. The lamp threw a narrow circle of light a few feet wide, but beyond that she could see nothing. Yet her senses were alive; her skin prickled and all her nerve endings were raw with sensation. She held the lamp higher, illuminating all but the far corners of the room. She saw nothing.

  “I must be imagining things,” she said aloud as she set the lamp down on the nightstand. She moved to the washstand, poured water from the pitcher, and washed her hands and face. Then slowly, with great difficulty, she tried to unfasten the back of her dress. The first two buttons came out of the holes easily, but unfastening the lower buttons was more difficult.

  Wind Rider watched Hannah struggle with her dress, admiring her in the fetching calico creation that hugged her curves. His lips curled into a sneer when he realized that Gilmore had bought her the clothing she wore. Two silent strides brought him directly behind her. Shoving her hands aside, he released the remaining buttons.

  ”0h!” Hannah whirled, her knees buckling when she saw Wind Rider. He grasped her by the shoulders, holding her upright. “Wind Rider! What are you doing here? Did Red Cloud tell you what happened?”

  Wind Rider’s lips compressed. “He told me. Why did you lie, Little Sparrow? Why did you tell the blue coat I raped and abused you?”

  Hannah’s mouth gaped open. “I what? Who told you that? I would never tell such terrible lies about you.”

  “Your tongue is false.” His gray eyes glittered in splendid fury and his hands tightened on her shoulders, wringing a cry of pain from her lips. “Why? Did you hate me so much?”

  “No, I didn’t want to leave. Ask Red Cloud; he’ll tell you the truth. I-I don’t hate you at all.”

  “I have already spoken to Red Cloud.”

  Relief surged through Hannah. “Then you know I didn’t leave willingly.” His fierce expression frightened her.

  “I know no such thing.”

  “But Red Cloud .. .”

  ” .. . Told me that you wished to leave.”

  “If you believe that, why are you here?”

  There was no weakness in his face, no sign at all of softness. There was strength and determination and harshness. And deep in the heated center of his silver eyes, she saw the need to punish, to lash out, to repay her for what he perceived as her falseness.

  He stared at her, unable to give an answer that would satisfy her. To Hannah, he looked like a caged animal, dangerous if angered, predatory if aroused. As if to prove her assessment, he grasped the sleeves of her dress and pulled them past her shoulders and down her arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking what is mine by right. I do not think your lieutenant will mind too much if we share you.”

  Hannah gasped, staring at him as if he’d just lost his mind. “What are you talking about? There is nothing between me and Trent. He is a kind man who has treated me decently despite what every man and woman here on the post thinks about me.”

  One more yank brought the dress pooling around Hannah’s feet. Wind Rider lifted her up and kicked the garment aside. Then he stood back and stared at her. “White women torture themselves with too many clothes.” Whirling her around, he fumbled with the ties of her corset. When they refused to give he took his knife and neatly slit the strings. He pulled the steel-boned garment from her body and held it aloft, looking at it curiously. “What is this?”

  “It’s a corset. All decent women wear them. It molds their bodies into a pleasing shape.”

  Raising his knife he slashed it in two and tossed it after the dress. Hannah cried out in dismay. “You do not need such a contraption. Your body is pleasing enough for me.”

  Hannah flushed, wishing she wasn’t so pleased by his backhanded compliment. Obviously, he wanted to punish her and nothing she could say would sway him. She could not imagine why Red Cloud had lied, or who had told Wind Rider untruths about her conversation with Trent, but she had a sneaking suspicion Spotted Doe had had a hand in it.

  Wind Rider’s silver gaze slid over Hannah with scathing contempt. After he had removed her dress and corset she still wore a chemise, drawers, stockings, and shoes. He ripped apart the chemise and tossed it after the dress. Then he reached out to untie the strings holding up the drawers. Her hands grasped his wrists to stop him.

  “Don’t do this; we need to talk.”

  “We have talked enough.”

  “You’re punishing me falsely. Can’t you trust me a little?”

  “You’re white.”

  “So are you.”

  He growled out something she couldn’t understand and shoved her hands aside. His eyes refused to meet hers as he pulled the string and the drawers slid down her hips. He sucked in his breath, fixing his gaze on the fiery triangle between her legs. He stared a long time, then lifted his eyes to look into her face. His fierce expression chilled her blood and filled her with a nameless horror. She made an unconscious move toward the door.

  “Running outside naked isn’t a good idea.” She stopped in her tracks, staring at him. “I should beat you, you know. Or at the least cut out your tongue so you can tell no more lies.”

  “This isn’t going to settle anything,” Hannah cried when he scooped her off her feet and tossed her on the bed. Then he slowly, methodically, began peeling off his clothes, his eyes never leaving the lush curves of her nude body.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Wind Rider.” He seemed intent upon hurting her.

  He fell to his knees beside her, placing his palm on her breast, measuring the throbbing heartbeat with his callused hand, feeling it become violent in seconds. “You cannot imagine how much I looked forward to returning to you, to finding you waiting for me in our lodge. I knew I had angered you by taking Spotted Doe as a second wife, but I hoped to make it up to you. When I learned you were gone I was beside myself with grief. I thought you were forced to leave, until I questioned Red Cloud and he told me otherwise. I wanted to kill you when I learned that you told the blue coat I raped and beat you.”

  Hannah swallowed convulsively, imagining how deeply Wind Rider had been hurt. Why had he been lied to? “Is that why you’re here, to kill me?”

  Wind Rider stared at her. “No. I did consider it, but that action no longer appeals to me.”

  She slid her tongue across her lips to moisten them. Wind Rider seemed mesmerized by the simple act. He moved his hands over her breasts, refamiliarizing himself with them. He thumbed her nipples, watching her green eyes darken.

  Hannah realized Wind Rider meant to humiliate her, but she couldn’t control the way her body responded to his touch. With satisfaction she noted that his body was not immune to hers. His sex was large, impossibly large. She could see it pulsing to life, its head wet and throbbing as it rose thick and hard from his groin. It was a formidable weapon, but one she did not fear.

  “I’m surprised you came to the fort. Don’t you know it’s dangerous for you here?” She knew she was prattling, but she needed time to defuse Wind Rider’s anger.

  “I’m a white man; have you forgotten?”

  “No, but I thought you had. Unless ...” Her words
faltered. It seemed highly unlikely that Wind Rider intended to leave the People forever and live as a white man, but the notion brought a glimmer of hope. “Do you intend to take me back to Red Cloud’s camp? If so, it would be unwise. The army would only search for me again and bring trouble to your people.” Her eyes narrowed in speculation. “Why did you leave Red Cloud’s camp? Didn’t you consider my being returned to Mr. Harley sufficient punishment?”

  Wind Rider’s hands moved idly over her flesh, considering her question. He decided to answer truthfully. “I went on a vision quest. I sought an answer to my dilemma. The Great Spirit set my feet on the path to the white world. At first I could not believe he meant for me to do this, but Coyote said it is so and I have obeyed.”

  “You have left for good?” Hannah asked, a resurgence of hope rising in her breast. “What about me? What about us?”

  “I do not want a woman who does not want me. I will try living as a white man, but it will be on my own terms.”

  “I want you, Wind Rider. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

  Wind Rider scowled. “Is this another lie, Hannah McLin?”

  “It is the truth. Will you take me with you?”

  “We will talk about it later.” He was annoyed at how easily his anger had dissipated, how desperately he wanted to believe her words.

  His hands slid over her belly and lower still, his gaze intense, his breathing labored. A moment later he was molding his hands against the most intimate part of her. His thumbs separated and explored, his fingers thrusting into the deep cleft he found there. Hannah cried out, undulating her hips to match the rhythm of his fingers. Then he was kissing her, his mouth open and wet, his tongue matching the thrusting of his fingers below. Hannah whimpered, desperately needing to feel his thick manhood against her softness. It had been so long—so very long ...

  Wind Rider felt a dam burst inside him as his control shattered. He had dreamed about taking Hannah like this for so long that it had become a constant ache deep inside him. When he thought he’d never see her again something inside him had died. At first he had wanted to punish her for leaving him, for lying, but all he could think of now was thrusting inside her and filling her with himself. It had been so long—so damn long .. .