Two Arrows joined the leaders out of range behind a boulder. “As you can see, I made no deal for myself!”
Broken Blade grinned and nodded. “The lieutenant would like to kill Two Arrows very slowly, I think.”
“And I, him!” Two Arrows touched his Dog Rope band. “Will you try to lead the people away? A few of us might be able to stay and hold them off.”
Old Little Wolf frowned. “What say you, Dull Knife?”
The other scratched his pockmarked cheek. “We have only a handful of warriors and cannot sacrifice any; we will need them more later.”
Two Arrows listened to the echoing rifle fire and looked toward the late-afternoon sun. “If we can hold them at bay until after dark, we can do as we did before, leave campfires burning and slip away.”
“Would they fall for that foolishness twice?” Dull Knife asked.
Two Arrows shrugged. “We can only try. If they don’t come looking until dawn, we can be many miles farther north, swallowed up in that rough country.”
Dull Knife mused, “We are almost out of the Indian Territory; maybe when we cross into that place they call Kansas, they will stop chasing us.”
“As long as we have the woman,” Two Arrows promised, “the lieutenant will come after us.”
Broken Blade grinned. “Then why don’t all the warriors pleasure themselves with her tonight, then cut her throat?”
Two Arrows put one big hand on the hilt of the knife in his belt and glared at Broken Blade. “Are you a loco one? If she is hurt, he will chase us even harder. She is all that protects us from an all-out cavalry charge.”
“Two Arrows’s words make sense,” Little Wolf grunted. “We will use a few bullets to keep the soldiers at bay. When it is very dark, we will slip away and leave them sleeping. Pass the word.”
Rifle fire cracked and echoed, ricocheting against the boulder as the warriors returned the fire. Two Arrows cautioned, “Tell the warriors not to waste bullets; we have very few. We only need to hold them at bay until dark.”
A brave galloped up the hill to tell the others, and they slowed their shooting, keeping up only enough firing to discourage the bluecoats from rushing the slope.
Two Arrows crouched, checked his rifle, and aimed, taking a bluecoat off his horse. If he could just kill Lieutenant Krueger, he could rest easy. He had no doubt the officer planned a terrible personal revenge against him because of the woman. He looked around at the other warriors shooting, keeping the soldiers at bay as the afternoon turned into dusk.
A bullet struck Little Wolf’s thin horse and the poor animal died almost before its body touched the ground. The old leader stumbled to his feet, unhurt. “We must have more horses and supplies,” he shouted to Two Arrows. “When we get into that land called Kansas, we will plan some raids.”
Two Arrows nodded. There was no love lost between the Cheyenne and the ranchers and hide hunters of Kansas. In 1875, white ranchers and buffalo hunters had joined with soldiers to slaughter many Cheyenne at a place called Sappa Creek.
Dull Knife gestured. “Two Arrows, make sure your captive is secure. If she escapes, all is lost.”
The noise of the shells rang in his ears, and the smell of acrid gunpowder burned his nostrils. But worse yet, his soul cried out for a drink of whiskey. He had thought about that as he rode out to meet the lieutenant, thought about how they might welcome him back with open arms because he’d know the Indians’ plans. They would have given him all the whiskey he could drink in exchange for betraying his people. No, he shook his head stubbornly. His people were giving him another chance; he must not waste it. “From now on, we’ll have to live off the land, steal horses and supplies from ranches.”
Broken Blade laughed. “They stole all that from us first; maybe it’s a fair exchange.”
Two Arrows rode back to check on his prisoner as Dull Knife had ordered. He spread the word as he went: Make ready to pull out when it grows dark, leave fires burning to fool the stupid soldiers.
Glory was still where he had left her. He took the gag from her mouth. “If you scream now with all the gunfire, no one will hear you.”
“I won’t scream, damn you! I don’t have any circulation left. Is Lieutenant Krueger with those troops?”
Somehow, her interest in the white officer annoyed him. “And what if he is?”
“Did you tell him I was all right?”
“The more miserable Krueger is, the more satisfaction I feel. The fact that he thinks I’m using you for my pleasure is little enough revenge for the humiliation of that beating.”
“How could you—?”
“Don’t lecture me, Proud One, I’ve got more important things on my mind than your virtue.”
She held out her wrists. “Won’t you untie me?”
He considered a long moment, looking at her in the growing twilight, at the delicate beaded bracelet still on her wrist. Her dark eyes were so imploring as she looked up at him and held out her hands.
“Do you know the word ‘please’?”
“I don’t beg.”
“I know.” Two Arrows hesitated. If she did try to trick him, how far could she run on foot in that long calico skirt?
Her torn dress slid off one shoulder, revealing a swell of breast as she held out her hands again.
He could see her nipples through the thin fabric, and all he could think of was how they would taste. She couldn’t go far on foot if she did run, and besides, he would keep a close watch on her.
Tears formed in her big eyes and ran down her suntanned face. She blinked them back defiantly.
He hadn’t known the Proud One knew how to cry; so she was a woman with a woman’s weaknesses after all. “As soon as darkness falls, we are going to do what we did before, fool the soldiers into thinking we are bedding down, then move out again.”
Behind him, there was only the occasional echo of rifle fire. If only the soldiers knew how little ammunition the Cheyenne possessed!
Glory almost panicked. The soldiers were here to rescue her; so near and yet so far. She had to take the risk of eluding Two Arrows, steal his horse, and ride out to meet the army. The moon was coming up, a big harvest moon the color of a ripened orange.
First, she had to talk him into freeing her. She let the tears she had been fighting run unchecked down her face now and drip on her breasts. She held out her hands again, imploring him with her eyes. The movement of her arms caused her dress to slip even farther. In the pale moonlight, desire showed in his smoldering gaze. If she had to let him between her thighs to get him to free her, could she do it and would David love her enough to understand? The warrior was a bigger man than David; probably bigger there, too. Mercy! Glory felt her face burn. What was she thinking?
She held out her hands again, her dress completely exposing one breast now, her lips shiny and half-open.
“All right.” He reached to cut her bonds, stuck the knife back in his belt. Then he handed her his canteen. “You must be thirsty.”
She took it and drank, smiling gratefully at him, watching the knife glint in his belt. “I—I don’t know if I can walk. I think I’ve picked up a pebble in my moccasin.”
“Let me see.” He slipped her moccasin off, ran his hand over her foot gently, massaged the instep. There was something about the way he touched and stroked her foot that felt so good. He was rubbing her ankle now, his big, capable hands soothing her tired muscles. “You have such small feet.”
How could such a powerful warrior be so gentle? Abruptly, she saw him as a man; holding a woman close, stroking her body with those callused hands. How could she have such an outlandish thought? She must concentrate on what was really important--escaping.
The knife. Could she get that knife? He was intent on rubbing her bare ankle and looking at her with a troubled, aroused expression.
Glory smiled at him and leaned a little closer, so that he got a better view of her almost naked breasts. Once, she would have been too modest to expose herself like this;
but if nothing else, she was a survivor, and her life and freedom were at stake. She heard a quick intake of breath, and his hands paused, tightening on her trim ankle. She closed her eyes and leaned forward a bit. “Thank you for being so kind to me and saving me from Broken Blade.”
“You thank me?” He sounded startled. “Wonders never cease.” He reached out and put his hands on her bare shoulders. She could feel the raw strength and virility in that grip. Glory leaned even closer, brushing her breasts against his bare chest.
“Damn you,” he muttered, “I’ve been wanting to do this from the first moment I saw you!”
Before she could react, he pulled her into his embrace, covering her lips with his, sucking her tongue deep into his mouth as he clasped her close, her almost naked breasts pressed against his hot, naked chest.
She had never been kissed like this. Never! For a split second, she forgot everything else but the way this big man was holding her, bending her body to his will, tasting her lips, crushing her taut nipples against his strong body. For a moment, she wanted nothing so much as she wanted to lie back on the soft grass of the gully and surrender to him. She hungered for his hot mouth all over her skin, stroking and kissing her breasts; she wanted him lying on her belly, ramming deep inside her with his hard, throbbing manhood.
Was she crazy? The distant sound of gunfire brought her back to reality as his breathing deepened. Two Arrows seemed to have forgotten everything but this moment, his pulsating desire to mesh with her. She must forget about what her body cried out for; she must think of saving her life. The cavalry was only a few hundred yards away. Who knew if she would ever have a better chance to escape?
Two Arrows’s hands still gripped her shoulders as he crushed his powerful body against the swollen tips of her breasts, oblivious to anything else. Glory glanced down. The pale moonlight gleamed on the big knife in his belt.
Desperation made her fast as a striking little rattler. Glory dived under his arm, grabbing for the knife.
But he was fast, too. Two Arrows swore and grabbed for her, but she managed to get the knife free, came up slashing. She gashed his forearm even as he twisted the knife from her hands, his blood running freely as they struggled.
She cried out as he jerked the knife from her grasp and tossed it away with an oath. “You lying white—!”
Oh God, he’d kill her now! She was fighting to get away from him as he attempted to get a grip on her in the darkness. His blood dripped wet and hot on both of them; she could smell the coppery sweet scent and feel its warmth.
“Let me go! Let me go!” Glory fought with the strength of a terrorized wildcat, knowing that if she did not escape, he would kill her for stabbing him. They were both slippery slick with his blood and he tried for a better grip, caught the front of her dress, tore it away.
In that split second, she saw the hot desire in his dark eyes as he stared at her pale, blood-streaked breasts in the moonlight. She struggled to get to her feet so she could run, but he reached out, caught her trim ankle, jerked her feet out from under her. They fought in the growing darkness, the distant rifle fire broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing and dislodged pebbles as they rolled across the ground.
With his superior strength, he ended up on top. Her dress was soaked with his blood as he pinned her arms above her head with one strong hand, lay glaring down into her eyes, his big body half on top of hers. She bucked and fought to no avail. There was a terrible passion in his eyes, the kind of emotion she had never seen in a man’s face, and it scared her.
“Damn you, white wench! You tease me with your body, plotting to kill me all the while!” He snarled in anger as he bent his head and devoured her mouth, forcing her lips open, cutting her lips with his teeth as he held her head so she could not pull away from him.
She tried to bite him, but he only exerted more pressure against her mouth, forcing it wider still, his tongue going deep in her throat as he pressed her head back in the age-old gesture of total surrender. She could not move, she could only lie there and let him do as he would. His other hand went to cover her breast, cupping it possessively as he devoured her mouth.
She tried to protest, but his tongue went deeper still. She struggled to twist away from the hand cupping her breast possessively, squeezing her nipple. She arched her back, attempting to buck him away from her, but he threw one leg across her slim body. She felt his manhood, aroused and throbbing.
They meshed and battled like two wild things in the dirt. No man had ever held her in such a frenzy of emotion, no man had ever kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. His strength was too much for Glory. She stopped fighting and lay there breathless, letting him suck her tongue into his mouth, letting him explore her breasts thoroughly with his big, callused hand. Despite herself, she felt her nipples go turgid. To her surprise, she could not stop herself from arching against his demanding hands. Glory had never known passion; her husband had only expected her to lie there and let him make his feeble attempts at mating her. David was too much of a gentleman to touch her before they were wed.
This barbaric savage’s seeking hands and mouth were demanding a response. If she stopped fighting and let this virile male have her body, would he free her?
Was she out of her mind? What would David think of her for submitting to a savage? Even as she thought it, Two Arrows forced his tongue deeper into her throat, exploring the velvet of her mouth as she gasped and stopped fighting.
Then his mouth went lower, kissing down the column of her throat. She breathed hard, aware of the heat of his breath and the touch of his fingers. Her hands were still pinned above her head by his strong grasp. Now that he’d taken his mouth off hers, all she had to do was scream loudly now and hope David heard—
Abruptly, his hot mouth covered her breast and sucked hard. Glory gasped aloud. She had never experienced any feeling like this before. Howard had seldom touched her breasts, yet this big savage was teasing them with his hot, wet tongue, sucking each of them into a pink, hard-tip mound. She must get away, she must scream for help. Yet all she could do was lie helplessly while he kept her pinned with his leg. She closed her eyes and tried hard not to react to his insistent, greedy mouth, and the throbbing of his insistent manhood against her body. She was only a toy to be used for his pleasure . . . and for hers. Any moment now, he would spread her thighs and ram his swollen male sword deep inside her. And all the while he was sucking her breasts as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her.
“You tease me, now I will have you,” he whispered hoarsely against her ear. “I will have you if it costs me my life!”
At that moment, the big wolf howled somewhere in the darkness, and it echoed across the hills. The sound seemed to bring Two Arrows to his senses. He sat up suddenly, turned loose of her. She realized she was trembling, but not with fear, as she tried to pull the bloody, torn edges of her bodice together.
He made a noise of disgust. “What kind of fool am I to put my hunger for a woman ahead of my people?”
He glared at her in the moonlight and she was afraid of the terrible passion in his dark eyes. “You bewitch me, Proud One, until I think of nothing else but lying between your silken thighs! ”
“I was only trying to escape!” No doubt he would kill her now.
Instead, with a curse, he stood up and looked from his bloody arm to Glory. “You did this, so you can bandage it. My blood you can wear as a reminder of your treachery.”
At least he wasn’t going to kill her for stabbing him. Of course not, she thought bitterly, I’m too valuable as a hostage. She began to tear a strip from her hem, realizing her lips were swollen from his hard kisses, her nipples throbbing from his greedy sucking.
She inspected his arm, thinking she had cut him worse than she had known. She saw the grimace of pain on his stoic face as she began to bandage his arm. The bodice of her dress felt wet with his blood.
“I ought to let Broken Blade and the others have you for
the night as punishment,” he grumbled through clenched teeth.
That thought scared her. “I will submit to you if you won’t let them touch me,” she blurted.
He threw back his head and laughed. “You try to strike a bargain? Did you not realize just now that I am strong enough to take you anytime I wish? I don’t need your permission.”
“If I tell the soldiers you protected me, it will go easier with you—”
“You will tell the soldiers nothing!” He almost spit it at her. “You will not get the chance!” He grabbed her and gagged her as she struggled. Then he twisted her hands behind her and tied them. That rubbed her bare nipples against his muscular chest, and he reached out and caught one of her breasts in his hands. “The pleasure you give a man makes him forget everything else,” he muttered.
Glory closed her eyes against the terrible need in his, forcing herself not to press her nipple against his fingers as he stroked there. What was it about this big, virile animal that brought out such a reaction in her very depths? At least she could be thankful that David need never know how she had almost let herself be swept away in a mutual rush of desperate need with this savage.
Around them in the darkness, Indians were mounting up, riding out. Two Arrows lifted her easily, looking down into her eyes as she dangled helplessly in his powerful arms. “The lieutenant is a very lucky man,” he whispered. “Someday, when he lies between your thighs and breeds you, remember that I wanted you more than he ever could!”
Glory tried to curse at him, but the gag muffled her words. She attempted to twist out of his arms, frightened of the terrible desire in his smoldering eyes and knowing that the army was close by if only she could reach them.
“No wonder he doesn’t want to lose you.” Two Arrows stared down at her half-naked body, writhing in his arms. “There is surely not another like you.”
He walked with long strides, carrying her to his paint horse, ignoring her helpless struggles. He put her on his mount and swung up behind her, pulled her close against him. Her bound hands now rested against his aroused manhood in the skimpy loincloth. He put his arms around her possessively, pulled her even closer. One of his hands went to rest on her bare thigh in the torn dress. It seemed to burn into her naked flesh. His other cupped her breast possessively.
Cheyenne Song Page 13