Before, when he had made love to Danielle, she hadn’t known what to expect. Now her body knew that it could find new heights of joy when it became united with Wolfrunner’s.
Forgotten were the harsh words he had spoken to her. All she could think about was the warm tingling sensation he was stirring within her body.
Somewhere in the distance, the call of a wolf penetrated the valley and echoed across the night sky. Wolfrunner was swept away by feelings deeper than lust and warmer than desire. Danielle’s lips were sweeter than the nectar of the honey bees, and her skin was softer than the petal of a wildflower.
“Danielle, Danielle,” he muttered in a thick voice. “I had not meant this to happen again.”
Danielle thrilled at the sound of his voice. He might not like her, but at the moment he wanted her. She reached up and captured his head, bringing his lips down to hers. She could tell he was mentally trying to resist her. It was apparent that she had some power over him, and that thought warmed her with unspeakable pleasure.
Parting her lips, she offered them to him. He groaned as his mouth settled on hers. He had no will to fight the pull of this Blackfoot princess who was forbidden to him. She was in his blood and he couldn’t get her out.
Wolfrunner’s heart raced frantically as his hands moved down to explore her body. Danielle’s mind was a swirling tide. Like a leaf that was riding the wind, she had no control over her emotions. Seeing his eyes darken with passion as they roamed the length of her now naked body, Danielle stifled a groan. With a violent tug, he stripped off his breechcloth and clasped her tightly against his hot flesh.
Wolfrunner became aware of the smallness of her body. She was delicate, fragile, and small-boned. There was a need in him to protect her from any hurt—even if it should come from himself.
With an agonizing force of will, he pulled away from her. He had taken her once; he must not do it again. Suppose he should plant his seed in her—what would that do to her life?
Danielle could feel him pulling away from her. She knew he wanted her. Why was he fighting against this feeling between them? Realizing she had the power to move him, she reached out and touched his hard chest, then allowed her hand to drift up to his mouth. He moved back and she followed him, covering his body with hers.
A savage groan escaped his lips as she moved her silken body against him. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he rolled her over and positioned her hips so she could receive his thrusting manhood. He had meant only to take her quickly to release the fever that raged in his loins, but when he entered the velvet softness of her, it shook his whole world.
Wolfrunner moved forward and back slowly, trying to prolong the beauty of the mating. The earth touched the sky and the soft wind joined with the mountains. There was beauty all about him, and Wolfrunner felt a strange wetness in his eyes. There was no shame in him because of the tears—he cried from the beauty of his love for this woman who had taken his heart. His hands moved gently across her breasts and he sought her mouth. He could feel Danielle quiver and knew she was experiencing the same deep emotions he was.
Danielle could feel Wolfrunner pulsating hotly inside her, and she threw back her head and clamped her lips tightly together to keep from crying out. She writhed beneath him, not knowing what to do to find relief. His hands moved to her hips and he gently guided her forward to meet his thrusts.
“It is good, beloved,” he whispered thickly in her ear.
Danielle only half heard his softly spoken words. She knew without being told that she had met the one man who filled her, body and soul.
With a strangled cry, Wolfrunner clasped her tightly to him, as wave after wave of fiery passion rocked both their bodies. Their bodies were intertwined—it seemed that neither could get enough of the other. They touched and caressed until the passion built and they coupled once more.
This time they made love with an urgency. It was as if both realized they might never have another time together. Danielle’s head was reeling and she held on to his shoulders as he built up the pace faster and faster. This time when their bodies exploded in a white hot flash, each lay trembling from the aftershock.
After Danielle’s heart rate had slowed and her breathing became even, she turned to Wolfrunner and found him staring at her. His gaze was probing, searching, as if he were trying to find something.
Suddenly he rolled over and sat up, pulling on his breechcloth. “I did not mean this to happen,” he said in a cold voice which wounded her as well as himself. “It was wrong. I should never have touched you again.” He avoided Danielle’s eyes, knowing he dared not look at her. He had to clamp his jaw tightly together to keep from crying out that he loved her.
Danielle reached out her hand to him, but he merely turned over and pretended to fall asleep.
Tears ran down her cheeks and onto the grass she lay upon. Where moments ago, Wolfrunner had given of himself, he now turned a cold face to her. She was wounded to the quick, not understanding how he could be so cruel after what they had shared.
Closing her eyes, she decided to harden her heart against him. Never would he have the power to hurt her again. From tonight on, she would never again turn to him with love. She would show him she could be as cold and heartless as he was.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Farley, with his keen eyes, had spotted a large war party of Assiniboin warriors about an hour behind him and Morgan. Knowing they would soon pick up their trail, he and Morgan had been forced to travel in the mountains so they couldn’t be easily tracked. It would mean taking a longer route to get to the Blackfoot village, but the way he saw it, they had little choice.
Morgan reined in his mount and gazed down the mountain. He couldn’t see any sign of Indians but he knew if Farley said they were there—they were there.
“I take it that the Assiniboin are enemies of yours and the Blackfoot, Farley,” Morgan said, watching as the old trapper dismounted and tightened his horse’s cinch.
“Yep. Them Assiniboin would like nothing better than to have my scalp hanging from one of their spears. It’s a treasure they seek second only to Windhawk’s scalp.”
The old man remounted and then let out a long spew of tobacco juice. “We best be moving on. I don’t want them devils to pick up on our whereabouts.”
As it neared dusk, Farley and Morgan made camp at the foot of the mountains. There would be no campfire tonight because the Assiniboin were camped just down the valley from them. Farley knew the Assiniboin were aware of their presence in the mountains. He knew they would send out scouts to try and locate him and Morgan, but he was a wily old fox and it wouldn’t be the first time he had thrown an enemy off the track.
The old trapper chewed on a piece of jerky, wishing he could have a cup of coffee to wash it down with. He watched Morgan who was reclined against his saddle. As he studied the man who claimed to love Sky Dancer, he found much to admire in him. Farley knew Morgan wasn’t the kind of person who could live with the Blackfoot. This man was a doctor, and his talents and skills were needed elsewhere. He didn’t know how it would work out between Morgan and Sky Dancer, but he knew the young doctor loved Joanna and Windhawk’s daughter—but was love enough to overcome their differences?
Morgan heard a twig snap just behind him and turned his eyes in that direction, while placing his finger on the trigger of his repeater.
“That ain’t nothing but a deer nosing about,” Farley said, taking another bite of jerky. “You act skittish; you ain’t fretting ’bout them Assiniboin, are you?”
“I can’t say I like the notion of them being so near. Especially since you said they would like to have your scalp, Farley.”
“I just can’t figure what they’re doing in Blackfoot territory. They are either awfully brave, or mighty, mighty stupid. Windhawk don’t look kindly on anyone invading his land—specially them Assiniboin. Was you thinking ’bout how your scalp would look hanging from one of their battle axes?” The old man chuckled. “They would be migh
ty partial to yellow hair like yourn.”
Morgan smiled. “They would have to kill me first, and I expect you to see that doesn’t happen.”
Both men lapsed into silence. Farley unlaced his boots and eyed Morgan. “What you looking so thoughtful ’bout?” Farley asked, feeling in one of his talkative moods.
“I was thinking about what I’m going to say to Skyler when I see her.”
“Sky Dancer,” Farley corrected. “You best start thinking about her as Sky Dancer.”
“How far to the Blackfoot village, Farley?”
The old man grinned widely. “I done tole you this morning, it ain’t more than a two day ride, iffen them Assiniboin don’t give us no trouble. ’Course iffen they was to chase us, I reckon we could make the village in one day.”
“I grow impatient, Farley. I need to know if she loves me enough to leave her people.”
“Are you planning on taking her back to Philadelphia with you?”
“Yes. I realize it would be asking a lot for her to leave her home and return to Philadelphia with me. Do you think she would do it, Farley? Do you think she will be happy that I resigned my commission?”
“That’s two questions, and I can’t answer nether of em. I don’t ’spect you are gonna have an easy time of it when you see her. I need to warn you that you’ll not be able to go near her, lest Windhawk or her ma says it’s all right.”
Farley thought of Sky Dancer. She was almost as dear to him as Joanna was, and he loved Joanna more than anyone. He couldn’t help but think Sky Dancer belonged with this man. He only hoped Windhawk would see it that way.
“You best get some sleep, Morgan. I’ll take the first watch. We have to keep an eye peeled for them Assiniboin. I’ll wake you ’bout midnight and you can take the watch.”
Morgan turned over on his back and played a game, counting the stars. He didn’t want to think too deeply, or he might never get to sleep. Sky Dancer was with him night and day. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, and he didn’t want to get her out of his heart.
Wolfrunner awoke before sunrise. He knew they were no more than four days’ walk from the village. He hoped they would soon come across one of the Blackfoot hunting parties, because he didn’t know how much farther Danielle could go before she collapsed.
For a long moment, he stared down at her. Last night, when they had made love, would be burned in his memory for all time. He knew when he was an old man, he would still remember the night when he had held the world in his arms.
Bending down, he shook her gently by the shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open. For a fleeting moment he saw them soften before they turned cold as ice.
“We must move on,” he said, helping her to stand. When she cried out in pain, he looked down at her feet. Picking up one of her feet, he saw they were cut and bleeding again. Evidently the hard pace they were traveling had broken the wounds open again. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to the river and plunged her feet into the cool water. He avoided her eyes as he washed the dried blood from the bottom of her feet.
“We will go slowly, and if it becomes too painful to walk, you must tell me,” he said with a softening in his eyes.
Danielle stood up and turned her back on him, knowing he would never hear a word of complaint from her. If it killed her, she wouldn’t allow him to see how badly her feet hurt. Nor would she allow him to see how bruised and battered her heart was.
“You lead, I will follow,” she said stubbornly.
Wolfrunner handed her a slice of meat. “You must eat or you will not be able to walk at all.”
She took the offered food and ate it hurriedly. As far as she was concerned they couldn’t reach the village too soon to suit her.
As they started out, she was aware that Wolfrunner had deliberately slowed his pace, and she knew it was because of her feet. She knew if she asked it of him, he would stop and allow her to rest, but she would never beg him for mercy.
The morning passed quickly. They moved out of the mountains to follow the winding path of the Milk River that would lead them home.
Danielle was following along behind Wolfrunner, wishing she dared ask him to stop so she could rest. She watched him whirl around and look back toward her. Leaping through the air, he caught her about the waist and threw her to the ground. Scrambling to her knees, it was on the tip of her tongue to scold him for being so rough and knocking her down—but the look in his dark eyes stopped her.
Wolfrunner had become alert as if he sensed danger. His eyes scanned the countryside, and he jumped in front of Danielle as if to shield her with his body. Danielle was startled when he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her behind a huge boulder. Shoving her forward, he thrust her face down on the ground.
“Stay down,” he commanded. “No matter what you hear, do not show yourself.”
Danielle watched him unsheath his knife, and he shoved it into her hand. Picking up his spear, he quickly turned away and moved behind the trunk of a tree.
In the next moment all the demons of hell seemed to be unleashed! Savage cries split through the stillness, and out of nowhere came a dozen or more painted Indians. Danielle gathered from Wolfrunner’s reaction that they were not Blackfoot.
She watched in horror as Wolfrunner leaped from behind the tree and started running away from the river. She realized at once that he was trying to draw the Indians away from her hiding place. He was sacrificing himself for her!
Disregarding his warning, she stood up and screamed just as an arrow whizzed through the air and entered Wolfrunner’s body. She watched in horror as he crumpled and landed hard against the ground.
In a frantic haze, she ran toward him, praying she would reach him before it was too late. If he was to die, then she wanted to die with him. Danielle paid little heed to the mounted men that were bearing down on her. All that she could think about was reaching Wolfrunner!
She stumbled and fell, only to jump up and race forward. When she reached Wolfrunner, she dropped to her knees. His chest was covered with blood, and his eyes were glazed with pain. He tried to raise his hand and touch her but he was too weak.
Clasping his hand in hers, she laid her face against his. “Don’t die,” she cried. “Do not leave me!”
“Run…go,” he whispered weakly. His eyes were sad, and they seemed to speak of things that had been, and others that could never be. He tried to rise but couldn’t, and slumped backward. His eyes seemed to glaze over and his hand slipped from her grasp. Danielle’s hand tightened on the knife he had given her earlier. No longer was she the polite young lady from Philadelphia. She was an Indian maiden and she would revenge the life of the man she loved!
By now the Indians had reached her. One of them jumped from his horse and grabbed her, pushing her to the ground. Danielle jumped to her feet, and slashed out at him with the knife, but he easily wrestled it out of her hand. The Indian grabbed her around the waist, and was about to remount his horse when a shot rang out and his grip loosened. He seemed to crumple and fell to the ground, taking Danielle with him.
Danielle fearfully tried to wriggle out from under the Indian, whose weight had pinned her beneath him. She saw that he’d been shot through the head! Other shots rang out in rapid succession and the remaining Indians rode away in a cloud of dust.
Danielle gave no thought to who her rescuers could be. She only knew she had to get to Wolfrunner. Crawling over to him, she dusted the grains of sand from his face with a trembling hand. The arrow was still embedded in his chest but she didn’t dare remove it. His eyes were closed and she didn’t know if he was unconscious or dead. Leaning forward, she placed her ear against his chest and could hear the faintest heartbeat.
Raising her face to the sky, she prayed in a broken voice. “Dear God, don’t take this brave man. Please allow Wolfrunner to live!”
Looking down at Wolfrunner’s face, she noticed his pallor was ashen. She could barely see the rise and fall of his chest. He had made the supreme sacrifice by
protecting her today. She feared this time he would pay with his life.
Grasping his limp hand in hers, she held it to her lips. “I love you, Wolfrunner!” she cried. “Don’t die!”
Farley heard the Assiniboin’s war cries. He halted his horse, ready to take cover when he spotted Danielle, and Wolfrunner on the ground with the enemy all about them. He knew if he didn’t do something quickly it would be too late.
“Well, hell and damnation—that’s Danielle!” he yelled out to Morgan. “We gotta save her!”
Both men took careful aim. Morgan had the Indian in his sight who was trying to place Danielle on his horse. He squeezed the trigger, and watched the man crumple.
Farley fired twice in succession, and two more Indians fell. Pointing their mounts in the direction of Danielle, they rode swiftly, firing all the while. Several more Indians fell, and the others rode away in a cloud of dust.
Morgan jumped from his horse, and pulled Danielle to her feet. An amazed look washed over her face when she saw him. Before she could ask Morgan why he was there everything turned upside down, and she collapsed in his arms!
Farley decided they would make camp by the river until Morgan could tend to Wolfrunner and Danielle. Morgan knew it wouldn’t be wise to move the wounded Indian in his condition.
Farley stood guard with his rifle aimed and ready in case the Assiniboin decided to return. Danielle was watching Morgan cleanse the skin around the arrow that was still embedded in Wolfrunner’s chest. She felt dizzy and faint when he broke off the shaft and tossed it aside.
Danielle held Wolfrunner’s hand, and gritted her teeth when Morgan began probing the wound. She was thankful that Wolfrunner was unconscious when Morgan finally removed the arrowhead.
“Save him, Morgan—please save him,” Danielle cried.
Morgan gave Danielle a strange look before he dropped the bloody arrowhead into her hand. “A souvenir to show your friends back in Philadelphia,” he said lightly.
Savage Summer Page 28