Captive Bride

by Carol Finch

  Nodding in approval after tasting the beaver-tail soup and hoecake Rozalyn had prepared for their noon meal, Bear-Claw complimented her efforts. "You have become a full-fledged mountaineer."

  A proud smile blossomed on Rozalyn's lips. "Merci, monsieur." Gracefully, she curtsied before him. "I had a most competent instructor."

  When Bear-Claw glanced past her to stare out the window, her eyes followed his gaze and then her heart almost stopped beating. A lone rider was approaching the cabin. Impulsively, she vaulted to her feet and dashed through the door to greet the man who had long filled her dreams.

  A wide smile stretched Hawk's lips when he saw Rozalyn running toward him. Her blue eyes were dancing with the lively sparkle he had not been able to forget the past three weeks, and her shiny raven hair trailed wildly behind her as she closed the distance between them. His hungry gaze swam over her flawless features and her curvaceous figure now clad in form-fitting buckskins. God, how he had missed this gorgeous creature whose smile was as radiant as the summer sun.

  Hawk grunted uncomfortably when Rozalyn leaped at him, her arms curling tightly about his neck. The feel of her body instantly aroused him, and her feminine scent warped his senses. He stood there, a rifle in one hand, the horse's reins in the other, and Rozalyn draped about his neck like a clinging vine, determinedly fighting the urge to rid himself of horse and weapon, and then squeeze the stuffing out of this lovely minx.

  A dark eyebrow rose sharply when Rozalyn kissed him with enough heat to set the forest ablaze. "Your overzealous greeting might lead a man to believe you had actually missed him." He chuckled softly.

  Blushing up to the roots of her raven hair, she unwrapped her arms from Hawk's neck and suddenly became cool and aloof as she snatched the reins from his hand and sauntered off to hobble his weary steed. "How could I miss you when you left me in such capable hands? Bear-Claw proved to be most entertaining company. Time has flown by while I have been living with him. How long have you been gone?" Feigning an innocent smile, she glanced back at the awesome man with tousled raven hair and laughing green eyes. "A week? Surely no more than that."

  Hawk's handsome face fell. "Three weeks and three days . . . exactly," he grumbled, his disposition soured by Rozalyn's comments. His narrowed gaze pelleted over the older mountain man who had strutted from the cabin and propped himself against a supporting post. "And what, exactly, have the two of you been doing in my absence?"

  Bear-Claw's smile became broader, if that was possible. "It would be simpler to list the things we haven't done, wouldn't it, Roz?"

  "If you have overlooked any facet of my education, I cannot imagine what it might be. You have been very thorough," she declared, her expression brimming with fondness and respect as she looked upon the bulky mountain man.

  Hawk did not appreciate their all-too-cheerful banter, nor did he appreciate the insinuation Bear-Claw had left dangling in the crisp mountain air. When Rozalyn disappeared inside the cabin to set another place at the table, Hawk glared at the gloating mountaineer.

  "It seems you have developed a strong attachment for the lady," he growled accusingly.

  Bear-Claw sauntered off the stoop to unfasten the pile of pelts from Hawk's steed. "Roz is a rare gem," he acknowledged. "I have not known such pleasure in years. It makes me wonder why I've wasted decades living like a hermit."

  Hawk didn't like the sound of that either. His lean fingers clamped into Bear-Claw's arm and he roughly spun the man to meet his perturbed glower. "I trusted you above all others. I thought I could depend on you. How could you—"

  "Put your fears to rest." Bear-Claw chuckled, then unclasped Hawk's tanned fingers from his forearm. "Roz asked me to teach her to survive in the wild and I did but comply. Must I remind you that I am old enough to be the girl's father?" Amusement faded from his weathered features as his troubled gaze fastened on the closed door. "I have become her friend, nothing more. She is your woman, Hawk. What she feels for you is strong, too strong, I'm afraid."

  "Did she say that?" Hawk's level gaze bored into Bear-Claw.

  "She didn't have to," the mountaineer responded with a heavy sigh. "I saw the look in her eyes while she watched you approach, and I also saw the expression on your face when she flew into your arms. You have become far too attached to Aubrey DuBois' daughter. She is the one woman you cannot have."

  Hawk's frustrated gaze swung to the closed door. "Dammit, Bear-Claw, what am I going to do?" he asked, his voice wavering.

  Bear-Claw's big hand folded around Hawk's slumped shoulder in a gesture of consolation, and for a long, quiet moment they both stood staring at the cabin. "You will do what you must do," he predicted softly. "You might not have realized that in the beginning, but you know it now. When the time comes, you will have to let Rozalyn go."

  Nodding mutely, Hawk ambled toward the cabin. While they took their meal, he could not drag his eyes off Rozalyn. The cool mountain air had heightened the color in her cheeks, and her eyes glowed with pleasure each time he peered into them. Hawk fought the overwhelming urge to abruptly order Bear-Claw from the cabin so he could be alone with this tempting beauty. He had spent three agonizing weeks anticipating his return, but being home had turned out to be a torment.

  Rozalyn felt the heat of Hawk's gaze upon her, and she knew the lambent hunger in his eyes was reflecting her own, barely restrained emotions. Although Rozalyn had been grateful for Bear-Claw's constant company, she wished he were a hundred miles away when Hawk's hand slipped under the table to map the curve of her hip. And W her heart stampeded around in her chest like a runaway stallion when his caress glided over her thigh, taunting, arousing, driving her mad with a craving that beaver stew and hoecake could never appease. Fire spread across her quivering skin as his roaming hand dipped beneath the band of her breeches to make tantalizing contact with her satiny flesh.

  It was impossible to carry on a normal conversation when Hawk was caressing her. He had always been proficient at seducing her in front of an audience. Lenore had not suspected his bold touch, and now Bear-Claw rattled on, relating Rozalyn's misadventures in the wilderness, while Hawk turned her inside out with his titillating caresses.

  When Bear-Claw insisted that he and Hawk spend the afternoon hunting game for a homecoming feast, Rozalyn's heart sank. She couldn't bear to have her raven-haired mountain man out of her sight. But, masking her disappointment, she forced a cheerful smile and followed both men to the door. When Bear-Claw stepped off the stoop to fetch the horses, Hawk reversed direction, however. His long, graceful strides brought him back to Rozalyn, and his flaming green eyes were burning so intensely that she trembled.

  Hawk's callused hands folded about her face, tilting it to his and his voice was raspy with desire as he spoke. "Tonight . . . when Bear-Claw falls asleep. . . ." His words sizzled across her skin like lightning streaking a night sky. "You may not have missed me these past few weeks, but I have most certainly missed touching you, holding you. Later I intend to show you how much."

  His mouth descended upon her parted lips, gently at first. But as the flame of passion engulfed him, his kiss deepened. Rozalyn would have gladly surrendered her last breath for a dozen more kisses like the one she was receiving. Wild feelings coursed her, cresting waves of sensation that curled all the way down to her toes. Instinctively, her body moved closer to the hard, muscular warmth of him as his questing tongue probed, his lips devoured, and his sinewy arms enfolded her, crushing her to him as if he never meant to let her go.

  When Bear-Claw loudly cleared his throat to gain their attention, Hawk reluctantly stepped away, and stared silently at Rozalyn, a promise in his eyes. Without a word, he turned and walked away, leaving her to brace herself against the door casing.

  When the two men disappeared from sight and the wind began to whistle around the cabin, Rozalyn stepped back inside. Sighing heavily, she stood at the window and stared pensively into the distance, seeing nothing but a pair of sparkling emerald eyes and a rakish grin.

/>   "It is as always, mon ami," she whispered ruefully. "You are always so close, and yet so very far away."

  A distraction, Rozalyn told herself. I must find something to preoccupy me until Hawk returns. Deciding to cook one of Bear-Claw's recipes to impress Hawk, Rozalyn rummaged through the supplies in search of the necessary ingredients. Once she had built a blazing fire in the hearth, she poured the batter into the pan that dangled above the flames.

  The creak of the door made her turn, smiling a greeting. "My, but the two of you are back soone'r than…”

  Fear streaked through her when unwelcome intruders burst into the cabin, but a callused hand muffled what would have been a cry of alarm. Rozalyn fought wildly to escape as her captors' unrelenting arms dragged her into the cold.

  Chapter 20

  Huge snowflakes flitted down from the gray sky, leaving the mountain meadow dusted with a light blanket of peaceful white. Hawk's eyes lifted to study the intricate crystals as they drifted gracefully about him. This was the first snowfall of winter. Soon, the world would be cloaked in white. He found himself whimsically wishing for a heavy blizzard that would keep him and Rozalyn confined to the cabin for days on end. He could envision the two of them cuddled together beneath the fur quilts, staring into the flames leaping in the hearth, and making wild, sweet love while the wind and snow wailed outside their door.

  "Daydreaming again?" Bear-Claw snickered, and pausing to prop himself on his rifle, the elder mountain man surveyed his restless companion with a mocking grin. "You are itching to get back to the cabin, aren't you, Hawk? What visions are dancing in your head, or dare I ask?"

  Hawk's emerald gaze strayed south, past the thick champ of aspens and pines that stood between them and the cabin. "My visions have nothing to do with hunting," he admitted absently.

  "I wondered how long you could endure the separation." When an antelope appeared in the clearing ahead of them, Bear-Claw brought his rifle to his shoulder to take aim. "One last shot," he promised. "If I don't fell my prey, I won't pursue it."

  The crack of the rifle splintered the frosty air and the unsuspecting animal dropped where it stood. A proud smile pursed Bear-Claw's lips as he glanced over at Hawk. Half-heartedly, Hawk returned the grin and then followed the old man as he claimed his game.

  Bear-Claw was content to live out his life in this majestic and treacherous terrain. The old mountain man lived off the land, taking only what was necessary to survive. He had no inclination to venture back to civilization, even occasionally. Hawk had shared Bear-Claw's attitude until Rozalyn had happened along. Now he wondered if he could ever go back to long, lonely months of isolation. Rozalyn's presence would linger within the confines of his cabin and upon the snow-crested slopes for years to come, he predicted dismally. With each passing day he was more convinced it had been a disastrous mistake to bring her into his world. She had touched too many emotions and had become an integral part of his environment. Routing her from his thoughts would be more difficult than tearing off an arm.

  Hawk impatiently waited for Bear-Claw to skin the carcass, but since the hermit was taking more time than he could bear, he gave him a helping hand, then all but trotted through the thicket with the carcass slung around his broad shoulders. Bear-Claw chuckled in amusement for it was obvious what Hawk had on his mind. If he could sprout wings, he would fly to the cabin, Bear-Claw decided. He had dragged Hawk into the forest out of pure orneriness, just to test the young stag's patience, but Hawk was short on patience. His thoughts were not on a homecoming feast. Indeed, the man would gladly skip supper if he could have his raven-haired nymph for dessert.

  The wry smile Bear-Claw was sporting evaporated when they dismounted from their horses and stared up the hill at the cabin. Something was amiss, he could sense it. And Hawk could, too. Bear-Claw could tell by the look on the younger man's face that he anticipated trouble.

  Smoke rolled from the partially opened door, causing Hawk to curse himself for leaving Rozalyn alone. Dropping the fresh carcass, he dashed toward the cabin, shouting her name.

  Breathlessly, Bear-Claw leaped onto the stoop and then grimaced when Hawk's furious bellow shook the log walls of the cabin. He stepped inside to see Hawk clutching the arrow that had been left as a reminder of another time and place.

  "Blackfoot?" Bear-Claw asked in disbelief. "What were they doing here? They rarely come to the high country."

  "It was Half-Head and his marauding savage," Hawk gritted out between clenched teeth. His smoldering green eyes focused on Bear-Claw's concerned face. "If he harms a hair on her head, I swear I'll show him a torture he'll wish he never knew existed."

  "How could that murderous brute know you were keeping a woman?" Bear-Claw mused aloud.

  "DuBois hired him to dispose of me and retrieve Rozalyn," Hawk explained, grasping the smoking pan of johnnycakes and removing them from the fire. Snatching up his pistol, a rifle, and a hatchet, Hawk stalked back outside, his keen gaze circling the area. "I knew he would come, but like a fool, I left Rozalyn unattended."

  "Aubrey DuBois sent that miserable excuse for a man to fetch his daughter?" Bear-Claw snorted in disbelief. "My God, does he care nothing for the girl?"

  "Very little it seems." Hawk swung into the saddle, then peered somberly at Bear-Claw. "DuBois is more concerned with disposing of me than seeing Roz safely returned. I swear he is a madman, poisoned with bitterness and vengeance."

  "It would seem so," Bear-Claw muttered disdainfully. "Had I known he would have so little concern for the girl I would have snatched her from him myself."

  Hawk did not bother to comment. He gouged his stallion, sending the beast thundering off in the direction he assumed Half-Head had taken if he was heading to the Blackfoot winter camp in the western valley of the Wind River Range. All his thoughts were on Rozalyn, and the dreadful picture that leaped into his mind made Hawk's blood turn to ice. He pictured Half-Head's ruthless smile, and he could not help but wonder if the lustful barbarian had ravished Rozalyn before kidnapping her. Damn the bastard to hell, Hawk swore under his breath.

  "Where are you taking me?" Rozalyn demanded to know.

  A satanic smile, the kind Hawk had envisioned, stretched across Half-Head's thin lips. "To the Blackfoot camp," he informed her. "Yer lover won't dare show his face there, not unless he wants to risk having his scalp lifted. The Blackfoot don't get along with anybody, except me."

  Ignoring the hideous man's leering smile, Rozalyn tilted her chin courageously. "I will double whatever price my father paid you if you will let me go," she bargained.

  "It ain't enough," Half-Head scoffed, his dark eyes raking Roz with blatant hunger. "I got unfinished business with Hawk . . . and you. You owe me somethin' for takin' a shot at me, woman, and you'll pay dearly when I git you to camp. I'll teach you to be my obedient squaw."

  Rozalyn inwardly cringed at the venom in his voice, and she wished her hands were free so she could claw the disgusting leer off Half-Head's ugly face. It was a pity the brute did not wear a full beard to disguise his bland, course features, but Bear-Claw had informed Rozalyn that no Indian tribe would have anything to do with white men who wore mustaches and beards. The Indians detested facial hair, and they wanted no association with trappers who camouflaged their faces with thick beards.

  "If you think Hawk will fall for whatever trap you intend to set for him, you are a bigger fool than I thought," Rozalyn taunted, deliberately setting aside her wandering thoughts. "You cannot win against him, even if you surround yourself with Blackfoot warriors. Hawk will come, and you will lose the rest of your scalp."

  Half-Head's hand slammed against her cheek, and the blow made her reel. If she had not been tied to the saddle she knew she would have toppled from her perch. Flinging the abusive Half-Head a mutinous glare, Roz licked her swollen lip, tasting her own blood and spitefully wishing to slash that brute's hide to see if a man with a heart carved from solid rock could bleed.

  "You will soon learn that I am more of a man than H
awk," Half-Head hissed menacingly. "When I take you, you will have no thought of another man. I promise you that!"

  Rozalyn had the sinking feeling the vicious brute was right. Her thoughts would be brimming with hatred for him so she would be unable to think of anything else. Deciding it best not to provoke Half-Head further, she held her tongue, however. Soon, he would receive his just reward. When Half-Head had demanded to know what had become of Hawk, Roz had informed her captor that he had gone to trap more beaver. Let the bastard think Hawk would be several days behind him, and that he would come alone to avenge her abduction. When Hawk sprang upon them, Half-Head would be taken unaware.

  Discreetly, her gaze shifted from Half-Head to the arrogant Blackfoot warrior who rode beside her. The Indian appeared just as unapproachable as the ruttish white man. It would do little good to attempt to sway the brave, she decided. The man could not possess an ounce of decency or sense if he had befriended this half-scalped fiend.

  Twice Rozalyn managed to slow their pace through the mountain passes by nudging her steed and galloping off in the wrong direction. Half-Head had been forced to retrieve her. Each delay had cost Rozalyn several painful slaps, but she endured Half-Head's manhandling silently, knowing that assistance would come and the abusive brute would pay.

  When Half-Head led them down a narrow ravine, Rozalyn glanced up to see Hawk crouched on the bluff above them. Her heart thudded furiously when Hawk's eyes focused on hers momentarily. She could see the rage stamped on his rugged features, feel the tension radiating from his powerful body. He reminded her of a fierce mountain lion poised to pounce, his face twisted as if he were about to snarl.

  A low, threatening growl that rivaled a panther's for ferocity actually did echo through the ravine. Half-Head swore under his breath when he glanced up to see his enemy springing at him, he glared angrily at Rozalyn, silently accusing her of lying to him. But before Half-Head could snatch his pistol from his belt, Hawk was upon him, knocking him from the saddle and into the snow. When the Blackfoot brave grasped his dagger and started to hurl it into Hawk's back, Bear-Claw appeared on the cliff. The warrior's arm halted in midair when he heard the click of a hammer, and he peered up to see the long-barreled rifle aimed at his chest.