Dream Warrior: His Savage Kiss

by Bobbi Smith

  At the thought of Silver Wolf, the memory of the sheriff's accusations returned, and Cari's pain grew almost unbearable. She'd lost her father. But had she lost Silver Wolf, too?

  "Oh, Papa. . . . What happened that night?" Her question was caught up and lost on the wind.

  Silence was her only answer. She turned away from the grave, feeling completely desolate. As she started back to the house, she whispered to herself, "Silver Wolf . . . where are you?"

  An hour later, Cari sat on the sofa in the parlor, listening to, without really hearing, the conversations going on around her. She supposed she'd been saying all the right things at all the right times, but she couldn't be sure, for she felt as if she were encased in ice. She was numb with misery. It seemed she was living a terrible nightmare in which the truth was a lie and lies were the truth. She wondered if it would ever end.

  "Cari, I am so sorry about your father . . ."

  She looked up to see Mark Larson standing over her. "Thank you, Mark."

  "You look like you could use a breath of fresh air. Do you want to go outside for a few minutes?"

  Though she didn't relish being in his company, she desperately needed a reprieve.

  She stood, and Mark took her arm to escort her.

  "I'll be out on the porch if my mother needs me," she told Elliot.

  Elliot wished he was the one spending a quiet moment with Cari, but he knew it was important he stay near Mrs. McCord. She'd been holding up reasonably well, all things considered, but he knew her fortitude wouldn't last forever.

  Cari and Mark went outside and stood at the porch railing. The sun was dropping lower in the sky, and it would soon be dark.

  "It was good of you and your father to come."

  "When we heard the news, we couldn't stay away. That's what neighbors are for." His answer was honest as far as it went. They certainly hadn't wanted to stay away, for they had both been anxious to hear what was being said about James's murder.

  So far, it looked like their plan had worked. From what they'd heard inside, the medicine bag coupled with Nettie Jones's rumors all added up to a hanging party for the half-breed once the sheriff found him, and that was just fine with them. They had Lord Anthony safely hidden away, James was dead, and soon the Indians would be run out of the territory. Life looked good.

  "Everyone's been very kind."

  "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do?" Mark ventured.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, it's not safe for you and your mother to live out here alone. If something like this could happen to your father . . ." He let the sentence hang.

  "It's all been so sudden. We really haven't had time to talk about it yet." Cari was surprised by the pang of loss she felt at the thought of leaving the ranch.

  "Of course you haven't, and I'm sorry. I was just concerned about you." He paused for effect.

  "There's no need for you to worry."

  "Ah, but there is. Like we told your father, we know the Indians are doing the stealing and now we know they're killing, too. There's no safe place in the territory anymore, and there won't be until all the savages are driven out and put on reservations."

  "I'm sure there are many who agree with you."

  "Now that your father's been murdered, it's just a matter of time until it happens," he told her confidently.

  Cari had had all she could stand of Mark. "I think I'd better go back in now."

  Ever solicitous, he started to take her arm when they heard a horse coming. Looking up, they caught sight of Ben Douglas riding in, and Cari waited there to greet him.

  Ben reined in before the house and dismounted. He gave Mark a curt nod of recognition as he came up on the porch, but his entire focus was on Cari. He took her hands and pressed a tender kiss on her cheek.

  "Cari, I came as soon as I could. I'm so sorry," Ben told her earnestly.

  "Thank you, Ben."

  "How's your mother?"

  "As well as can be expected, I guess. Elliot's with her right now. Please, come in. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you. We both know how fond Papa was of you."

  They found all the visitors preparing to leave. An emotionally numb Elizabeth was accepting their expressions of sympathy and thanking them in return for their thoughtfulness. Sam Larson kissed her cheek and then motioned for Mark to join him.

  "We'll be going now, Elizabeth, but if you should ever need us, just send one of the hands out to the ranch."

  "You've been so kind, Sam. We appreciate everything."

  When the last person had gone, Elizabeth finally turned to Ben. James had told her how close Ben and Silver Wolf were, and she faced him now with uncertainty. The look of heartfelt sympathy in his eyes immediately erased her concern about him.

  "Elizabeth . . . I'm so sorry." He kissed her cheek as he had Cari's.

  "So am I," she said wearily, the exhaustion she'd held at bay finally claiming her. "I thought James and I would spend the rest of our lives together. I never dreamed it could all end so soon." Words failed her, and her expression, so carefully schooled for the others, faltered. "I don't know what I'll do without him . . ."

  Elliot put an arm about her shoulders, and she leaned gratefully against him, appreciating his strength.

  "Do you want to go upstairs, Mother?" Cari asked.

  "I think I'd better."

  "Ben, will you stay the night?" Cari invited, knowing they had much to discuss and this was not the time.

  "If you want me to, I'll stay."

  "Please. We'll speak with you in the morning."

  Cari and Elliot took Elizabeth upstairs, and while Cari helped her mother prepare for bed, Elliot went back down to keep Ben company.

  "Would you like a drink?" Elliot offered. James kept his liquor in the cabinet, and after the day that had just passed, he knew it was time for a whiskey.

  "Thanks. I could use one," Ben answered as he sat down on the sofa. He accepted the glass and took a deep swallow. It had been a long two days, and the ordeal was far from over. In fact, it was only just beginning.

  "Did you know the sheriff's looking for Silver Wolf?" Elliot asked as he sat down with him.

  "He came by Daniel's rooms last night, searching for him," he answered, his disgust evident in his voice.

  "They're convinced of his guilt."

  "There's been no trial yet," he answered harshly.

  "According to Sheriff Dixon they have proof."

  "I know. That's why I was so late getting here today. I rode out to Tall Shadow's village trying to find Daniel before anybody else did, but he wasn't there."

  "Do you think he ran?"

  Ben bristled at Elliot's insinuation. "I've known Daniel for seven years. He doesn't run from anything." His words were terse. "Daniel is no murderer."

  "Everyone else seems to think he is, and judging from what I heard here tonight, they're up in arms about it."

  "Anyone who knew Daniel and James would realize the whole idea of Daniel killing him is ludicrous. They cared about each other. James had a special place in his heart for Daniel ever since the night he rescued Cari. Over the years, they've grown close. They were almost like father and son sometimes. There's no way Daniel had anything to do with this."

  "He's going to have a hard time proving it."

  The two men regarded each other in silence for a minute. Ben was firmly convinced of Daniel's innocence; Elliot leaned toward believing the evidence and the sheriff.

  "Then we'll just have to prove them wrong." Ben spoke quietly, but with deadly intent.

  Fifteen

  Silver Wolf lay by his campfire trying to rest. He knew he should be sleeping, but thoughts of Little Snow were keeping him awake. It had been four days since he'd seen her, four long, lonely days since he'd held her in his arms and made love to her. Memories of the passion they'd shared flooded through him as he lay alone in the darkness. He remembered the softness of her, the sweetness of her scent, the taste and feel of her . . .

/>   Against his will, the heat of his need for her rose within him, then settled low in his body. He stifled a groan as he gritted his teeth against it. He eased the glorious agony by telling himself it would only be one more day until they were together again. Just one more day . . .

  When Silver Wolf had left Little Snow, he'd ridden to the place where he'd received his vision quest. He'd camped there for several nights, clearing his mind of things that were unimportant and concentrating on what he felt for Little Snow and what their future together might be. He knew her mother had been right when she'd claimed that some whites wouldn't understand their being together. But he believed that their love was strong enough to survive any hardships, as long as they faced them together.

  It had occurred to Silver Wolf on his second day out alone that he hadn't told Little Snow that he loved her that night. He deeply regretted not saying the words to her, though he'd felt them in his heart, and he intended to make up for it as soon as they were together again. He hadn't been ready to admit it before, but he acknowledged now that Little Snow had held his heart in her keeping ever since that first night when he'd found her in the snow. He'd loved her then, and he loved her now, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Satisfied with that knowledge, he'd headed back for the Circle M. He would reach the ranch tomorrow. He couldn't wait to see her and tell her of his feelings for her.

  Only one more day, he told himself, and they would be together. He hoped she'd worked things out with her parents, and remembering the kiss she'd given him as they'd parted, he felt confident that she had.

  At the memory of her kiss, Silver Wolf's hunger for her grew. With an effort, he denied it, but he was forced to shift positions again to seek his comfort once more. One more day, he repeated to himself. Just one more day. . . . Sleep was a long time coming, but it finally claimed him. His fire burned down low, and the night grew quiet.

  Wild One's low warning whicker and the sound of a twig snapping in the underbrush nearby brought Silver Wolf instantly awake. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, and he lay still, listening, trying to orient himself. Wild One's restless movements convinced him that someone was near, and a sense of foreboding settled over him. As quietly as possible he moved, reaching for the handgun he kept close beside him.

  "Don't do it, Marshall!" A man's voice rang out in the night. "We just might have to shoot you if you go for your gun, and we'd hate to do that."

  Silver Wolf stopped and called, "Who are you and what do you want?"

  "This is Sheriff Dixon."

  "Sheriff?" He recognized Dixon's voice and frowned. "What's going on? Why didn't you just ride in?"

  Sitting up slowly, Silver Wolf peered into the darkness. The glow from the dying fire provided little light and made it difficult to see, but he thought he could make out the sheriff standing just beyond the edge of the low-burning flames' glow.

  "We've been looking for you for a couple of days now."

  "Why? Is something wrong? Has there been trouble?" Silver Wolf demanded, suddenly worried about Tall Shadow and his people in the village.

  "You're damned right there's been trouble!" Dixon thundered. "You're under arrest."

  Silver Wolf wondered if he was dreaming, but then he saw the glint of the gun barrels that were pointed at him and knew everything was far too real to be imagined. This was no dream. "For what?"

  "The murder of James McCord."

  The news hit him like a physical blow and jarred him to the depths of his soul. "James is dead?"

  One of the deputies gave a harsh laugh. "As if you didn't know, half-breed. Now get up real slow. We're taking you in."

  Silver Wolf knew he had no choice. He stood up, taking care to keep his hands where the sheriff could see them. "Sheriff Dixon, I have no idea what this is all about. I didn't know James was dead. I haven't seen him or spoken with him since late Saturday night."

  "Yeah, we know all about Saturday night, half-breed," another man called out to him in a taunting tone. "We saw you with McCord's daughter, and we know how mad he got—"

  "Shut up, Morgan. Go help Collins tie him up," the sheriff cut him off.

  "There's no need for that. I didn't kill James, and I'll go into town with you willingly," Silver Wolf offered.

  "You think we're stupid?" Morgan scoffed. "We don't trust you. Now turn around!"

  The two men moved toward him. They hated all Indians and considered half-breeds no better. Just because this man had had a college education and spoke and acted like a white man didn't make him their equal. It would have pleased them greatly to kill him right there and save the town the trouble of a trial, but the sheriff was with them.

  "Sheriff Dixon, James McCord was my friend. I didn't kill him," Silver Wolf insisted.

  "Save it for the trial, Marshall," Dixon replied without emotion.

  "But I didn't do it!"

  "Well, the proof we got says that you did do it!" Morgan snarled at him.

  "What proof?"

  "He had your medicine bag on him when he was found," Dixon explained.

  "My medicine bag?" Silver Wolf was startled by the revelation. He started to tell them that he'd lost it some time Saturday night, but Morgan and Collins grabbed him and he didn't get the chance. Collins dragged his arms behind him to tie them, while Morgan held a gun on him.

  The posse had been excited when they'd stumbled onto Marshall's camp. They'd tied their horses a short distance away so they could move in quietly and have the element of surprise on their side when they arrested him. Now, leaving Morgan and Collins in charge of their captive, the sheriff and the others went to retrieve the horses.

  The two men were thrilled to have a few minutes with the half-breed out from under the sheriff's watchful eyes.

  "So you like white girls, do you?" Morgan asked as he pressed his gun against Silver Wolf's chest. He remembered how outraged he'd been when he'd seen him dancing with Cari McCord, and he slowly dragged the barrel of the gun down his body until it was aimed below his waist. "You ain't got no right touching white women, Indian."

  "Yeah. . . . Maybe, it's time you learned that lesson," Collins chuckled as he pulled the rope that bound Silver Wolf's wrists extra tight.

  Fury and frustration filled Silver Wolf, but he fought to keep his expression carefully blank. He knew what kind of men these were and knew this wasn't the time or the place for a confrontation. He stood still and kept his gaze focused straight ahead.

  "It would be a real shame if this gun accidentally went off, wouldn't it, Collins?" Morgan smiled as he toyed with the hammer, watching Silver Wolf's face as he did. "It would be real easy to put a bullet in you . . ." Morgan was getting annoyed because the half-breed wasn't showing any fear. He would have taken great pleasure in shooting him right then.

  "You better not," Collins cautioned, still holding Silver Wolf immobile. "He's going to be hung within the week anyway, so why make it easy for him? It'll be good to watch him suffer."

  Morgan paused as if in thought. "It would be hard to explain to the sheriff why I shot you there. So maybe . . ."

  In a lightning move, he brought the gun up and pistol-whipped Silver Wolf. The force of the blow staggered him, cutting him over the eye and leaving him bleeding. Silver Wolf tried to jerk free of Collins's hold, but his captor only tightened his grip.

  "You trying to escape, breed?" Morgan demanded, hitting him in the stomach with all his might. The power of his blow drove him to his knees.

  When he dropped down, Collins let go of him, and Silver Wolf took advantage of this moment of freedom. Lunging forward, he rammed his head and shoulder into Morgan's stomach, knocking him on his back and sending the gun flying from his hand.

  "You son-of-a-bitch!" Collins swore as he tackled Silver Wolf from behind.

  Beneath the weight of his assault, Silver Wolf fell heavily. He managed to roll to one side and throw off his attacker. He was struggling to his feet when another deputy who'd already returned with his horse came charg
ing into the fray. The deputy grabbed him as the other two came at him.

  "Gag him. We still got a minute before the sheriff gets back," Morgan ordered angrily.

  Once they'd gagged Silver Wolf, Morgan hit him, and he enjoyed his grunt of pain. Collins joined in, and they didn't let up their abuse until the sheriff rode back into the campsite.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Dixon demanded as he saw the slumped and nearly unconscious Marshall, supported by two of his deputies.

  "He was trying to escape," Morgan lied coolly, sorry that the sheriff had returned so soon. He had just begun to enjoy himself.

  "Yeah, he was giving us trouble, so we thought we'd teach him a lesson," Collins added.

  "He was giving you trouble with his hands tied behind him?" the sheriff challenged.

  "He's an Indian, Sheriff! You know what animals they are!"

  "Get him on his horse," he ordered in disgust. "I want a trial, not a funeral!"

  The three deputies dragged Silver Wolf's limp form to his horse and practically threw him on Wild One's back.

  Silver Wolf was barely aware of what was going on, but he instinctively gripped his horse with his legs. Blood flowed from the cuts over his eye and in his mouth, and his side felt as if it were on fire.

  "Think the white girls would like him now?" Morgan asked Collins as he picked up Wild One's reins and swung up onto his own saddle.

  "I don't think so. He ain't so pretty anymore."

  "He sure ain't. It doesn't matter, though. The McCord girl knows he's guilty, and she ain't never gonna want anything to do with him again. Did you see the look on her face when the sheriff told her that he killed her daddy?"

  "Yeah, the wife, too. They're going to enjoy watching him hang."