Tender savage

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Tender savage Page 6

by Conn, Phoebe


  Though seething with discontent, the Lower Agency to which Viper had returned would have appeared to the casual observer to be a peaceful encampment of tepees nestled between bluffs of the Minnesota River Valley. Overlooking the Indian camp stood a settlement of traders' stores, quarters for the Indian agent and other

  government personnel, along with shops, bams, and several other building, including a new^ly constructed stone warehouse. While the Sioux did not consider the feelings of the whites, the traders were as anxious as they were for the Indians' gold to arrive, since they had long passed the point at which they could op)erate on credit. Therefore, the summer of 1862 found no one at the Lower Agency happy.

  Viper managed to remain home for one week before his spirit grew too restless to remain where every word spoken was a complaint. To the north lay the Upper Agency, which occupied far better lands for hunting. But he had no wish to trespass ufx^n them. No, his interest lay toward the south, and without providing an explanation of his plans, he again slipped away before dawn so none of his friends could beg to join him or follow. .

  A loner by nature, he was comfortable in his own company, but when he reached the woods outside New Ulm he knew if he wished to see Erica again he would have to find a way to let her know he had kept his promise to return. Since he knew she worked in her uncle's store in the mornings, he decided to wait outside at noon and speak with her when she left. He had no plans for a lengthy conversation, but hoped all he need do was make her aware of his presence and she would know what to do next.

  Viper's presence caused considerable stares, but since he was breaking no laws by standing outside Ludwig's Dry Goods, he returned the curious glances directed his way with a practiced nonchalance. His timing proved to be perfect. He had to wait only a few minutes before Erica came out the front door of the heavily trafficked store, but to his dismay she was not alone. Walking with her was a big man Viper thought to be several years older than he, but they went by him so quickly he scarcely caught Erica's eye. Disappointed not to have at least won a smile from the blonde, he returned to his camp by the river and sat down to fish while he waited impatiently for the arrival of the pretty young woman he could not be certain would appear.

  When she saw the Indian lounging outside the store, Erica's heart leaped to her throat, lodging there so firmly

  she could barely nod to show she was listening as Ernst described his hop>es for a successful harvest. Her uncle had again invited him to eat dinner with them. While Erica had done nothing to encourage his admiration of her, Ernst's perseverance where she was concerned was leading her to think she should come right out and tell him she would never consider a proposal from him rather than politely to suffer his continued attentions. In fact, she began to hope he would mention marriage that very afternoon so she could refuse him and send him on his way.

  The Indian's sudden appearance complicated her life considerably. Although she had gotten only a quick glimpse of him, it was enough to assure her he was every bit as handsome as she had recalled. Her whole body tingled with excitement at the thought of continuing their forbidden friendship. She had not really expected hirn to come back, or at least not so soon. She knew without being told where she could find him. The question was: did she truly wish to?

  She struggled to make polite responses to Ernst as they ate dinner. Her mood was anxious, for she felt hopelessly trapped. The poor man tried so hard to impress her, but not only were his looks plain, but his personality and thoughts as well. He had none of her uncle's fun-loving charm, and while he was a solid, dependable citizen, Erica truly did not want ever to see him again. When finally he left the house and her uncle returned to the store, she felt far too tired to face a possible confrontation with an amorous Indian.

  Britta studied Erica's pained expression throughout the noon meal and feared she was at fault for her niece's obvious discomfort. She hadn't repeated the beautiful young woman's comments about Ernst to her husband, and Karl apparently wasn't observant enough to notice Erica wasn't nearly so fond of the young man as he was. As soon as they were alone, she made what she thought was a considerate suggestion. "You look tired, dear. Why don't you go on out for a walk? You've been spjending too much time either at the store or indoors here. Go on out, it will put some color back into your cheeks."

  The thought of a walk was very attractive, but Erica feared her feet would carry her straight to the Indian and

  then leave her mind with nothing to say. "I like spending the afternoons helping you, Britta," she argued. "You remind me so much oT my mother, being around you is almost like being with her again."

  "What a sweet thing to say. Erica. But Eva was much prettier than I am. Now I insist you go out for a little while at least, since the afternoon is a fine one."

  Finally pushed out the door by her well-meaning aunt, Erica dawdled along the path leading down to the river. Once she reached the steamboat landing the hesitated a lon^ while before realizing that if she did not go see the Indian, he would probably wait for her outside the store again the next day and the next until she did venture out to the woods to meet him. By that time the whole town would be gossiping about the man and she would be fortunate 'if her name were not included in the same breath. Justifying her actions to herself in this way and convincing herself she was, more eager to avoid drawing such unwarranted attention to their friendship than to continue it. Erica finally chose the path leading north and found the Indian fishing in the exact spot where she had first seen him.

  Viper wound his line around a branch that jutted out over the river and rose to greet Erica when she waved to him. He had told himself repeatedly that she could not p>ossibly be the beauty his memory had stubbornly insisted she was, but as she smiled shyly at him he realized he had been wrong. She was even more lovely than he had recalled. Hct fair curls shone brightly, reflecting the sun's rays like a halo. The angels in the missionary's books had always been blond, pale, pretty creatures he had instantly disliked because they looked nothing like his dark-skinned friends and relatives. Yet here Erica was, looking like a living ray of sunshine, and he could find nothing to dislike about her.

  The Indian's features had lit up with such unabashed delight when he had seen her that Erica felt the warmth of his pleasure wash over her. She was then pained with a sharp stab of guilt for having wasted so much time getting there. She scarcely knew the man, but all she did know about him suddenly made her long to know far more. While it was difficult to understand precisely why she had so litde respect for the danger that knowing him

  presented, she did not hide the fact that she was happy to see him again, too. "If there's no hope I will get your name right in English, may I call you Viper as others do?"

  While he had hoped Erica would run into his arms and cover his face with kisses, the Indian was so pleased to see her he did not complain that she had not shown enough enthusiasm in her greeting. "Viper is all right," hea^eed. "Not as nice as Beloved, but it will do." He stood simply staring at her then, thinking the blue of her eyes far prettier than the summer sky. "Who was that man?" he finally had the presence of mind to ask, and instantly his smile vanished at the thought that he had a rival for her affections.

  Relieved that he had not immediately tried to kiss her. Erica replied with a careless shrug. "His name is Ernst Schramberger. He's a farmer in need of a wife, and unfortunately he has set his sights on me. I have tried to discourage his attentions, honestly I have, but he just doesn't seem to notice I am not thrilled by them."

  "You could tell him you are my woman," Viper offered graciously. "He would stop coming to see you then, wouldn't he?"

  "Oh yes, he most definitely would!" Erica agreed with a sparkling laugh, for she could not even imagine herself saying such an outrageous thing. "But since it isn't true, I'll not use you as an excuse to avoid him."

  Momentarily confused. Viper frowned slightly, then he reached out to take Erica's hand and drew her near. "What do you mean it is not true?" he whispered
softly as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Erica had no time to reply before the Indian's kiss made a hopeless muddle of her thoughts. Again his gentle touch was remarkably soothing, while the feel of his warm, bare back beneath her fingertips provided a heady rush of excitement. His lips caressed hers sweetly, then his tongue slid into her mouth with the easy familiarity of a lover long held dear. The moment she had entered his embrace she had been overcome, as before, with the same reassuring sense of belonging Mark's presence had always created within her. Vijjer was not Mark, however, but a tender savage whose sensual magic enveloped her in a warm blanket of desire.

  "This is wrong," Erica's conscience whispered faintly,

  barely heard above her wildly beating heart. They were standing at the river's edge, in plain view of anyone going by in a boat, but the danger discovery presented failed to faze her. She was so lost in the Indian's delicious kiss that she ceased to care about anything save pleasing him. When he pulled her down into the soft grass at their feet the wantonness of her behavior still failed to shock her back to her senses.

  She kissed the affectionate brave again and again, holding him so close she felt him shudder with the effort to keep his passions in check. Her hands moved down his back then over the soft buckskins that covered his narrow hips. In her mind's eye she recalled the perfection of his lean yet muscular build in such explicit detail it brought a bright blush to her cheeks. She felt his fingertips brush lightly over her breasts, burning her flesh with a possessive caress that seared right through the thin fabric of her pale green gown, making her long to feel her cool bare skin next to the fiery warmth of his. With irresistible affection he lured her to the very brink of rapture, before Erica recalled she could not even pronounce his name.

  Viper held the blond beauty cradled in his arms as he lay stretched out by her side. His kisses grew increasingly insistent, but seemingly able to read the half-formed doubts that had suddenly filled Erica's mind, he sensed her reluctance to give their passions free rein and drew back.

  "Tell me what is wrong," he encouraged with light kisses that teased her ear lobes before sli£ng down the elegant curve of her throat. "Tell me."

  Erica waited until his gaze again met hers before she tried to explain her misgivings tactfully. "I don't really understand why I came here today. I know nothing about you. You are very handsome, of course, and wonderfully affectionate, but—" she lost the thread of her complaint then as the gray of his eyes took on a hypnotic silver gleam. He seemed to see clear through her, past the glowing curls and soft silk gown, past the pretense fine manners required, past all subterfuge to the desolate depths of her heart. "I don't even know you," she whispered in a voice filled with wonder, for while she felt she knew nothing whatsoever about the Indian, somehow their souls had already touched, and each had found the joy of recognition in the other.

  "Does it frighten you so that I am Indian?" When she did not respond he made a confession of his own. "It merely surprises me that you are white."

  That was such an odd thing for the man to say, that Erica recalled something her uncle had mentioned and asked him about it. "My uncle says you must have white blood to have such light eyes. Is that true?"

  "No/* Viper replied with a teasing grin. "My blood is as red as yours."

  Erica was certain he was only pretending not to understand her. "You know what I mean. Viper. Someone in your family must be white."

  "Would that please you?" the Indian whispered as he continued to lazily nibble her earlobes.

  Everything about the man pleased her, but she could not admit that, since it implied an invitation she could not give. Instead, she told him what no one else in New Ulm knew. "It would make no difference," Erica suddenly blurted out in a breathless rush. "I've already promised to marry another man."

  "What!" It was Viper who was shocked then. He sat up quickly, and placing his hands upon Erica's shoulders he yanked her up into a sitting pwDsition facing him. "Is it that farmer? Is he the one you've promised to marry?"

  "No, it's not he," Erica assured him with a shudder, for she would never a^ee to wed Ernst Schramberger.

  Since he had no interest in playing guessing ^mes, the Indian turned his ar^ment in another direction. "You are lyingl If you were m love with another man you would not be here with mel"

  "Yes, I know that should be true," Erica agreed, as confused as he by the contradiction between her words and the wild abandon of her behavior.

  "Well, if you know it, then why are you here with me?" the Indian snarled with a flash of the same evil temper he had displayed at their first fiery confrontation. He wanted to wring from her lips the confession that she preferred him to any other man, but, sadly, he failed.

  Erica swallowed hard, for his lingers were digging into her flesh and sending pains shooting clear to her fingertips, and it was difficult for her to gather the breath to speak. "Oh, it is the damned war," she explained with

  a half-choked sob. "The war has ruined all our lives!"

  Huge tears welled up in the distraught blonde's eyes and then poured down her cheeks, but Viper did nothing but stare at her in mystified silence. Finally he released her with a disgusted shove and went to check his fishing line. The bait had slipped off the hook, so he added more and tossed the line back out into the river.

  Erica could tell by the Indian's rigid jDOSture that he was furious with her. She couldn't blame him, either, when she was furious with herself. She had been drawn to him by the most primitive of human needs, but she thanked God she had not satisfied them at his expense.

  When the delicate blonde knelt down by his side, Viper asked angrily, "Why do you think I am fishing?"

  "Because it is a relaxing pastime?" Erica guessed incorrectly.

  "No! Because I am hungry. I thought you would end another kind of hunger, but now you say you belong to some other man!"

  Erica reached out to touch his thick black hair lightly, the sight of his feathers and braids no longer strange to her. When he did not flinch at her touch she rested her cheek upon his bare shoulder as she tried to find a way to tell him good-bye. "Please do not think badly of me. It is only that I am so lonely and frightened that—"

  "That savages seem amusing!" Viper taunted her rudely.

  "No," Erica murmured softly. Fearing any explanation she offered would only make matters worse, she regretfully rose to her feet. "I think you are a fine man, with both a handsome appearance and a compassionate heart. I am truly sorry to have disappointed you so greatly." She waited a moment, hoping he would forgive her for beginning a romance she now had to end.

  Viper's frown deepened to an angry scowl and he stared out at the river as though he were alone. Finally, certain he would never speak to her again, Erica turned away. The Indian heard a soft rustle as the hem of her dress brushed over the leaves, and he knew she had meant her good-bye to be a final farewell. He turned then to watch her until she had disappeared down the trail, but the fierce gleam in his silver eyes said something far different than good-bye.

  Erica was relieved when she didn't see Viper in town again. She knew she had handled their brief romance very badly and was grateful he had departed without taunting her with that fact. When Gunter presented her with a handsome carving of a cougar, she thanked him for the unique gift and immediately put it away in the box with the claw where she would not be constantly reminded of why she had asked for a keepsake of the animal. Even after several weeks had passed, her encounter with the amorous brave was still quite vivid in her mind, but she blamed embarrassment, rather than the heady joy of his kisses, as the cause.

  Viper, however, made not the slightest effort to forget Erica. He kept the soft curl of her silken hair with him always, so whenever he was alone he could twist it slowly through his fingers. At those times he would recall the luscious taste of her kiss and the gentle swells of her figure until his whole body ached with longing. What did it matter that she had promised herself to another now that she had met him? Was he
not fine enough a man for her? It was all too obvious that her answer to that question was different than his. Still, he remembered the startling blue of her eyes and the way the excitemept of their arguments had brought a bright blush to her cheeks, and he knew fate would not have allowed him to meet such an enchanting woman if he were not meant to have her for his own. He

  knew that eventually a way to impress the white woman favorably would occur to him. He tried to be patient while he waited for such an inspiration, but unfortunately, he had very little patience.

  Viper awakened the instant Two Elk's hand touched his shoulder. He had already drawn his knife before the young man spoke, but after recognizing his friend's voice he slid his weapon back into its sheath.

  "What has happened that cannot wait until morning to be discussed?" he asked crossly in the dark as he swept his thick black hair out of his eyes.

  Squatting down beside Viper, Two Elk inhaled deeply to have breath enough to explain all that had transpired during the night. "Four braves from Chief Red Middle Voice's Rice Creek Camp killed five settlers at Acton today. Two of them women I"

  His full attention captured by that horrifying news, Vif)er sat up auickly. "Do we know the braves, or those who died? Tell me all you know," he ur^ed hoarsely.

  "It was those fools Brown Wing, Breaking Up, Killing Ghost, and Runs Against Something When Crawling. They chose shooting whites to prove their courage. The trader Robinson Jones, his wife, her son, a daughter, and another man all died."

  Viper knew the braves, for while they had been Upper Sioux, they had married Lower Sioux women. Troublemakers all. He thought them crazy to have killed Jones and his family, for the man had always been friendly to the Sioux. "How did you learn of this?"

 

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