Captive Bride

by Carol Finch

  "Immensely," Rozalyn breathed, laying her head against his sturdy shoulder.

  "If you had stayed put, none of this would have happened," Hawk insisted. Setting her on a mount, Hawk flung her a disapproving frown. "Fright took ten years off my life when Arakashe came charging across the river without you in tow."

  When his remark penetrated, Rozalyn was irritated. As Hawk swung onto his steed, she said, "You planned this, didn't you? You persuaded Arakashe to attack my father's caravan and dispose of him."

  Hawk nodded affirmatively and then hastened to explain further before Rozalyn jumped to the wrong conclusion. "I did send my grandfather to intercept the fleet of keelboats before they navigated the rapids, but it was not my intent to dispose of your father. I wanted him to think I had bargained with the Crow chief on his behalf so that when I asked for your hand in marriage he would be in no position to refuse. At the moment your father and his men are stranded in the middle of the Missouri, but their lives are not in danger, nor did I ever intend for them to be."

  The explanation Hawk offered was meant to cool Rozalyn's temper, but he soon learned it had had the opposite effect. Instead of praising his scheme Rozalyn was glaring at him.

  "Dammit, Hawk, this is the last straw! Why won't you ever confide in me before you traipse off into the wilderness or devise some risky scheme that might result in disaster?" Rozalyn fumed.

  "There wasn't time. I only thought—"

  "Wasn't time?" she echoed incredulously. "We have spent the better part of a year together and you couldn't find the time to reveal this fiasco you conjured up?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips. "Obviously you consider me dim-witted, and think I wouldn't have the sense to play the charade to its end."

  "The idea didn't occur to me until the last night we were together." Hawk's voice was testy. "Did you expect me to make the arrangements and explain my intentions during the few minutes it took to ferry you across the river to meet your father?"

  "Well, I am not marrying a man who does not have enough courtesy to explain his intentions beforehand. I could have gotten myself killed ... or worse ... all because you didn't enlighten me!" Rozalyn countered. Then she turned coldly from him.

  "Do you expect me to forewarn you of every move I make?" Hawk snorted derisively. "Upon my word, woman, I swear you would have me tell you when I plan to jump and how high! You would have me so henpecked that, like a hawk, I would molt twice a year."

  "You? Henpecked?" Rozalyn laughed at the ludicrous notion. "I have yet to see you follow me around like an obedient pup. Indeed, I am the one who has been led about on a leash and pawned off on one stranger and then another."

  When her breasts heaved in indignation, threatening to spill from the plunging neckline of her buckskin dress, Hawk lost all interest in arguing. The fact was neither he nor Roz would tolerate domination. They were destined to clash, but they would always be held together by a strong bond—the compelling attraction between them. Hawk was prepared to compromise occasionally . . . and this was one of those times.

  Pulling his steed to a halt, he flashed Rozalyn a roguish grin. Then he deliberately reached out to trail a lean finger over the soft swells of her breasts. "Very well, cherie, if you demand to know my every thought, I will reveal it. And as far as my immediate intentions are concerned, I plan to kiss you. Do you have any complaints?"

  His wide, boyish grin was her undoing. Suddenly Rozalyn couldn't remember why she was raking Hawk over the coals, and the moment he touched her she melted into a pool of liquid desire. An impish smile pursed her lips, and her blue eyes sparkled.

  "Complaints? From me?" she asked innocently. "When have I been known to complain? Surely you must have me confused with someone else, monsieur."

  "My mistake."

  "Apology accepted."

  "Mmmmm . . . this beats the hell out of arguing," Hawk purred, leaning out to close the narrow distance that separated them.

  While Hawk was settling down to the arousing business of kissing her senseless, Rozalyn melted into his buckskin shirt. His sensuous lips brushed lightly over hers, teasing her into response, and then his mouth opened on hers and his questing tongue parted her lips. The musky scent of him fogged her mind, transporting her back to another time and place, stirring memories of rapturous pleasure.

  After a long, delirious moment, Hawk dragged his lips away and resituated himself on his steed. "As much as I would prefer to continue what we were doing, I'm afraid we have tarried too long already. Your father is probably beside himself, wondering if he is to be marooned in the Missouri for the duration of his life."

  While they made their way through the forest, Rozalyn mentally rehearsed what she intended to say to her father. She had to convince him to end his feud with the Baudelairs, and to allow her to remain in the wilderness with the only man who had been bold enough to earn her respect yet gentle enough to win her love. It was time Aubrey faced the truth and accepted Rozalyn's plans for her future. She had been a fool to think she could hide her feelings, return to St. Louis, and live in a vacuum. Her father knew she was spirited and had a mind of her own. It was time she reminded him of that fact and took her destiny into her own hands.

  Hawk and Rozalyn returned to the riverbank to find Arakashe and his warriors standing guard over the drifting keelboats. Aubrey growled resentfully when he saw Hawk lift Rozalyn from her steed and then make a quiet comment to her. He loathed being handcuffed and forced to do another's bidding, especially the bidding of a Baudelair.

  "Well, what is Arakashe's decision?" Aubrey demanded to know when Hawk strode across the fallen log to confront him.

  "The chief has agreed to spare your life and grant me your daughter's hand, but he will not release the furs or the entire stock of supplies," Hawk told him, biting back an ornery smile. It did his heart good to see the powerful furrier in no position to dictate. Perhaps now Aubrey would realize how the trappers felt when they were forced to accept the price the furrier offered them for their pelts.

  "That is robbery!" Aubrey fumed, becoming more frustrated by the second. He had already been left adrift for more than two hours while Hawk was retrieving Rozalyn.

  "It is no worse than risking the perils of the wild only to receive nominal pay for pelts. Be grateful Arakashe has reconsidered and has allowed you to live—and he is sparing you and your men enough supplies to reach St. Louis."

  "Your efforts are astonishing," Aubrey muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "If you could do no better than that, you needn't have bothered."

  "Shall I tell Arakashe how ungrateful you are?" Hawk taunted, pirouetting on his toes to swagger back to shore.

  "No, dammit. I want to leave here with my scalp," Aubrey growled acrimoniously.

  Hawk reversed direction, then gave the sour-faced furrier a mocking smile. "In that case, I suggest you be content with your lot."

  The remark cut through Aubrey like a sharp-edged knife. He had often made the same comment to grumbling trappers who were annoyed by the prices they received for their pelts. Hawk had thrown his own words in his face, and they did not set well with the resentful furrier.

  Aubrey's narrowed eyes settled on Rozalyn while Hawk and the other trappers filed across the log to dump the meager supplies into the boats. The thought of her marrying this half-breed scoundrel infuriated him. Hawk had declared war on the influential entrepreneur and had emerged the victor, so Aubrey was angry and frustrated. Never had Aubrey been forced to buckle, but now he had been given no choice, not if he hoped to escape with his life.

  When the supplies were tossed on board and the poles replaced, Aubrey rose to his feet, his bound hands hanging loosely before him. "Rozalyn, come with me," he beseeched. "Tell Hawk you have no desire to remain in the wilderness. This is no place for you. Hawk won't force you to stay if it is not your want. The scoundrel appears to have a weakness where you are concerned. He will listen to you." When Rozalyn made no move to join him in the boat, Aubrey said excitedly, "Rozalyn, for God's sake, t
hink what you are throwing away. You don't have to stay here!"

  Rozalyn stared pityingly at her father. Then she moved to stand directly above him on the fallen log. Aubrey was pleading with her to go with him, only because he could not bear to think of her living with a Baudelair. It was not because he wanted her with him, she knew that. He had said as much. He wanted her to go with him for all the wrong reasons.

  "I love him, Papa," she told him simply. "But have you forgotten what it's like to truly care for someone . . . the way you cared for the Crow maiden? You were not able to enjoy the one true love in your life, but in good conscience, can you deny me my love?" For the first time her father really listened to what she was saying, and when his proud shoulders slumped, she knew she had gotten through to him.

  "Your wealth has given me many opportunities and it has attracted many suitors who would have married me to link themselves to your fortune and your influence. I wanted to be loved for myself, not because I was Aubrey DuBois's daughter." Her long, thick lashes fluttered down as Rozalyn paused to moisten her dry lips. Then, quietly, she continued. "I have come to respect and admire Hawk during these past months. I have also come to love him, and he loves me because of what I am and what I mean to him. There is no monetary value attached to our affection. Hawk does not need your fortune; he has one of his own." Carefully, Rozalyn stepped over a protruding tree limb to edge closer to the bobbing keelboat. "I love Hawk the way you must have loved his mother," she murmured, allowing a faint smile to graze her lips. "If you had such a compelling attraction to Bitshipe, is it so difficult to understand why I see the same endearing qualities in her son?"

  "But you know how deeply I was hurt by his father's betrayal, the cross I bear because of the tragedy," Aubrey said brokenly. "I can't forget Hawk could have been my son."

  "He still can be," Rozalyn gently reminded him. "Papa, we cannot change the past. You tried to forget by taking a wife when your heart was tied to another. Would you wish the same agony on me? Could you watch me marry another man to ease my loneliness when it is Hawk I want? I don't think Hawk and I must suffer because of something out of our control, something that happened over thirty years ago."

  Aubrey heaved a heavy sigh. God, he had been selfish and bitter. Rozalyn had been right when she'd said he'd paid her little attention during her childhood. What right did he have to give her orders now when he had never offered her love or guidance?

  His pained gaze swung to the shore and he saw his onetime friend walking toward him. When Bear-Claw paused to peer down at Aubrey, a rueful smile crossed his lips. "I know you despise me, Aubrey. And I know you think you have every right to. But it is as Rozalyn said. I could no more avoid my compelling attraction to Bitshipe than you could. She was a rare, lovely woman, When she died I, too, was bitter and devastated. For thirteen years I avoided my own son, for fear that looking upon him I would see her. But then I realized that I was running away from the one person I should have been running toward. My son had lost his mother and he desperately needed to know his father, to know that he was loved."

  Bear-Claw's misty eyes drifted to Rozalyn, and, sighing, he reached out to trace the delicate line of her jaw. "Look at your daughter, Aubrey. Truly look at her for once in your life. She is remarkably resourceful and high spirited. Rozalyn is an individual, not just Rose Blossom's namesake. I spent time with her this winter, teaching her the ways of the wilderness, and I have come to admire and respect her. I see in her many of the qualities that once drew me to you in friendship." Bear-Claw's solemn gaze swung back to Aubrey who stood as still as a stone statue. "Would you spend the rest of your days in loneliness when you could have the love of your daughter, as I have the love and respect of my son? Believe me, Aubrey, loving helps to ease the pain, to replace the emptiness. I have lived both ways, and reaching out to your own child is far better than holding your emotions inside you, refusing to grant them release. Neither of us can bring Bitshipe back, but I think she would be the first to give her blessing to this match between your daughter and my son."

  For a long moment Aubrey stared at Rozalyn as he digested Bear-Claw's words. For the first time he looked past his own heartache and bitterness to see the young woman he had allowed to grow up wild and free, and he realized that Bear-Claw was right. Rozalyn was a unique combination of beauty and resourcefulness, and she was a survivor who could flourish in two worlds. Her zest for life made her fascinating and endearing.

  Aubrey had wasted many years, viewing his daughter only as Bitshipe's namesake instead of seeing her as an individual, and as a child he had neglected while he'd wallowed in self-pity. The emotions bottled up inside him flickered like a small flame feeding on a faint breath of wind, and finally a slow, honest smile worked its way across his features when he looked up at his daughter.

  "I have been a stubborn, bitter old man," Aubrey ashamedly admitted. "It seems Bear-Claw has been a better father to you than I have been." His beseeching eyes probed Rozalyn's. "Can you ever forgive me for being such a selfish fool? Is it too late, Rozalyn?"

  Tears welled up in the back of Rozalyn's eyes. At long last she had a father, one who was no longer afraid to get to know his daughter or to express his emotions.

  When Bear-Claw towed the boat toward the fallen tree and secured it, Rozalyn bounded into it and threw her arms around her father's neck. "Oh, Papa, I've wanted this since I was just a little girl. I tried so hard to gain your attention and win your love."

  Bear-Claw stepped down into the keelboat to free Aubrey's hands. Then Aubrey fiercely hugged Rozalyn to him. It was the first time she could remember being comforted by her father in all these years together. Although this moment had been a long time in coming, Rozalyn was immensely grateful to have him as a loving, caring father.

  Repentant blue eyes lifted to meet Bear-Claw's quiet smile, and without hestitation, Aubrey offered his hand to his friend of many years ago. "I have long owed you an apology, but I suppose I was not man enough to admit it—even to myself—until now."

  "Although we have no control over the past, we can look to the future by giving Roz and Hawk our blessing and by renewing our friendship." Bear-Claw glanced up at his son who stood above them on the barricade. "They care a great deal for each other, Aubrey, and I wish them all the happiness we couldn't enjoy."

  Clinging to Rozalyn's hand, Aubrey strode to the stern to lift his gaze to the powerfully built mountain man garbed in buckskin. "I will freely give my consent and my blessing to this match on two conditions."

  Hawk tensed, wondering what sacrifices he was about to make in order to take Rozalyn as his wife, but whatever Aubrey demanded, he felt that he was going to compromise. "Name your terms, Aubrey. I am not going to live without Rozalyn."

  A slow grin rippled across Aubrey's lips. "The first request is that you love my daughter enough for both of us. The second is that you return to St. Louis occasionally to spend some time with me. I have a great deal of compensating to do where my daughter is concerned."

  Hawk chuckled lightly and then extended a hand to draw Rozalyn up beside him. "Agreed, Aubrey. Rozalyn will never have cause to doubt my love. And the time is coming when furs will not be in great demand. Though the quest for them will continue, I see myself one day returning to the civilization my father taught me to appreciate. Perhaps Roz and I will decide to make St. Louis our home." A wry smile rippled across his lips, then adoring green eyes fell to the radiant face beside him. "But it will be a decision we make together."

  That implication made Rozalyn beam like the summer sun. Hawk had finally come to see her as his equal, perhaps not in all matters, but at least she was to be given a vote instead of being carted about and deposited where he saw fit.

  Although the previous night her life had seemed devoid of hope, today had brought a new beginning. Rozalyn had found her father after years of alienation, and Aubrey had reconciled with Bear-Claw and had accepted Hawk. For the first time in her life Rozalyn felt whole and alive; she was bursting with ha
ppiness.

  Clinging to Hawk and her father, Rozalyn watched the retrieval of the keelboats from the channel. Arakashe and his braves then assisted Aubrey in hauling the caravan overland to the smoother waters of the Missouri. Once the boats were again in the water, Arakashe ordered several of his braves to retrieve the stolen furs and supplies.

  "Keep them," Aubrey insisted. "It is the way of the Crow to offer gifts in retributions to a family that has suffered an injustice. The supplies and furs are my offering of apology. We are family now, and I wish there to be no more ill feeling between us."

  Dark eyes smiled on Aubrey as Arakashe clasped his hand. "It has been a long time in coming, Apitsa, but the people of the free-flying Sparrow Hawk will once again call you friend and welcome you when you come to trade." The old chief glanced at Hawk and Rozalyn. "And perhaps one day there will be a child to seal the bond between your people and mine, one that will be loved and accepted in both worlds."

  "By the look of things, I expect such an occurrence in the near future." Aubrey chuckled softly and then slid Bear-Claw a discreet glance. "They do make a handsome couple, don't they?"

  "A fine couple," Bear-Claw concurred.

  Hawk's jaw sagged when he saw Bear-Claw follow Aubrey into the keelboat. "Where are you going?" he asked.

  Bear-Claw snickered at the stricken expression on his son's rugged features. "Back to civilization." Drawing himself up in a sophisticated pose, Bear-Claw pretended to flick a piece of lint from the sleeve of his buckskin shirt. "Who knows? I may find the trappings of a gentleman to my liking after all these years of wandering in the wild. I dragged you back to St. Louis so you could receive your formal education. Now it's high time I reacquainted myself with my own heritage. I have an estate to manage and it has long been neglected."