by Conn, Phoebe
Viper smiled slightly as he nodded, apparently amused by the way she had worded her question. "Yes, you will be far safer with me than with any of the others. Remember that, and do not try and run off."
Erica surveyed their surroundings with a nervous glance, again seeing no possible way to flee. She was certain he could find his way through the dense woods, while she was completely lost. Even if she did have some idea which way to go, she knew it would be ridiculous to attempt to outrun a man who could so easily overtake her. From any point of view, her situation was hopeless: she was trapped, even if he did not have her bound. "What are you going to do?" she finally blurted out, thinking she could more easily bear her fate if she knew what to expect.
Viper had not meant to terrify Erica, as he so obviously had, but he was not all that surprised by her reaction to him. Pretending not to understand the true import of her question, he replied nonchalantly, "As soon as you |^ther wood, I am going to build a fire. Hurry before it gets dark," he ordered gruffly before turning back to see to the stallion.
Erica didn't know whether to laugh or cry she was so shocked by his command. Completely bewildered, she asked, "You kidnapped me because you needed a servant?"
Viper looked over his shoulder, his glance as cold as his tone. "No, I rescued you to keep you safe from harm, and I expect you to be grateful to me. Now stop wasting time and fetch the wood."
"Why do we need wood? Do you plan to cook?" Erica's voice had taken on a sarcastic edge as her anger swelled to overpower her fear.
Viper turned back to face her, his expression difficult to read beneath the bright streaks of war paint. "I have nothing to cook, but I did not want you to be cold. If we argue much longer, it will be dark. Go now and look while
you can still find some wood."
Earlier that afternoon. Erica had expected him to kill her. There was still the very real possibility he might rape her, and, suddenly, wasting her breath arguing about gathering wood seemed absurd. Erica strangled a shriek of outrage as she turned away. She'd been taken captive, regardless of Viper's calmly worded denial to the contrary. She was his prisoner, not his guest. Had New Ulm actually fallen to the Sioux, as he had boasted? If it had, had the Indians continued their wanton slaughter of men and taken the women and children captive? Were her uncle and Gunter lying dead in the street? What fate had befallen her dear Aunt Britta? She was a pretty woman still. Had some brave claimed her for his own?
Tears splashed down her cheeks as she recalled how warmly she had been welcomed into her aunt and uncle's home. Now she did not even know if that home was still standing. Exhausted after a harrowing week and aching all over from the jarring ride, Erica leaned down to pick up a fallen branch and simply slid into unconsciousness, and like a rag doll that had fallen from a child's hand, she crumpled to the ground.
Although he had been pretending to care more about his mount than her, Viper had kept his eye on Erica as she crossed the clearing. She wasn't moving v^th the sprightly step he was used to seeing, but far more slowly. He saw her bend down, then with a slight sway she collapsed in a heap in the grass. He hesitated for an instant, thinking she was merely playacting to avoid doing her share of their chores, but when she failed to stir he grew alarmed and sprinted across the distance that separated them.
Kneeling by her side. Viper smoothed Erica's tangled curls away from her face, then felt for the pulse in her throat and was reassured to find it strong. He turned her over slowly so she could rest comfortably upon her back, still not understanding what had caused the pretty blonde to faint so suddenly. It was not until then that he really looked at her closely, and he was stunned by the dramatic change in her appearance since they had last been together. Her face was far thinner, and bluish circles marred the usually creamy ivory skin beneath her eyes. She was so pale that her long sweep of dark lashes provided her
only touch of color.
She had always been well dressed and beautifully groomed, but she certainly wasn't now. While he recognized the blue gown, the skirt bore numerous dark stains he feared might be dried blood. Had she been wounded as they fled New Ulm? Moving down to her feet, he removed her soft kid slippers, then shoved her ruffled slips aside and slid his hands up her white silk stockings searching for some sign of injury. Her legs were as long and slender as he'd expected them to be. Her feet were tiny, her ankles small, her calves but a gentle swell in her shapely leg. He pushed his hands higher still to caress her thighs, and Erica moaned slightly. He drew back then, certain if she awakened suddenly she would not believe he had been looking for a wound rathCT than merely enjoying the beauty of her splendid limbs.
Not having any idea how to revive the young woman, but satisfied she was not injured, Vip)er rose and swiftly gathered enough firewood to build a fire. Once he had it burning brightly, he carried Erica over beside it and sat down with her cradled across his lap. She fit in his embrace as perfectly as he had recalled, ana he hugged her close to his chest as he called her name in an insistent whisper. "Erica, Erica, you must wake up."
Erica heard her name in the same instant that she became aware of Viper's confining embrace. Awakening to find herself held so firmly in his arms, she struggled frantically to break free, but succeeded only in throwing him off balance. Rather than release her to avoid falling over backwards, Vijjer twisted to the side and rolled over on his stomach, easily pinning her beneath him.
Her deep blue eyes reflected the amber glow of the fire as she stared up at the Indian brave. Their faces were no more than a few inches apart, and for an instant she saw only the streaks of war paint rather than the man himself. The weight of his well-muscled body forced her flat against the earth, and while she was no less frightened than she had been upon awakening, he now held her so firmly she could no longer fight him.
Erica knew exactly what was ^ing to happ>en to har now that she had no way to stop hmi. He would rape her as often as he pleased, then pass what was left of her on to his
friends. She had not the slightest doubt of the horror she faced. She would never see those she loved, not ever again. Mark had feared he would die in the war, but she was going to be the one to die, if not that very night, then soon. Her worst fear was that it wouldn't be nearly soon enough, and tears again overflowed her lashes as she turned her head and shut her eyes tightly so she would not have to look at Viper's triumphant grin as he forced himself upon her.
Viper had little experience with women, but Erica had again confirmed his suspicions that she was a most peculiar female, indeed. He kept his hands upon her wrists as he spoke in the same soft soothing tone he had used with the stallion. "You must not run from me. I cannot protect you if I must spend all my time chasing you through the forest. Now stop crying and look at me."
When she did neither, he released her hands and cupped her cheeks between his palms, turning her face toward him. Resting his weight on his elbows, he gave a sharp command tms time. "Erica, look at mel"
Erica shuddered with revulsion before slowly opening her eyes. She felt nauseous she was so tired, and while the thought that it might be possible to rip open Viper's jugular vein with her teeth flashed briefly through her mind, she knew she lacked both the strength and the resolve to do it. He was the savage, not she. The firelight danced in his strange silver eyes with the same bright flames she knew must fill the halls of hell, and she shuddered again, sorry he had made her look at him.
"There is blood on your dress. Is it yours?" Vipcar asked in a softer tone now that he had succeeded in getting her attention.
That question struck Erica as totally irrelevant. Why should he care? Didn't he plan to hurt her herself, and badly? Seeing no reason to reply, she kept still.
"Erica, answer mel"
"No," the bone-weary blonde finally replied in a shaky whisper as she again shut her eyes to forcibly remove his image from the nightmare to which she had awakened.
Thinking she had fainted again. Viper swore softly, then moved aside, sat up, and gathered
her into his arms. She was completely limp, and he pressed her cheek against
his chest and rubbed her back lightly. "I will see you come to no harm," he whispered into her curls.
When he did no more than hold her upon his lap, Erica suspected his gentle touch was a trick of some sort. Was he trying to lull her into complacency? Into accepting the unwanted advances she would have no choice but to endure? He was a strong man, and she was a young woman so exhausted by turmoil and fear that she was physically ill. "I'm going to be sick," she managed to warn him, and this time when she tried to break free of his grasp he let her go. She stumbled as she broke away, then dropped to her knees and gave in to the nausea that had plagued her all afternoon.
Viper looked up at the stars that now brightened the sky, fearing that Erica was proving to be far more delicate than an Inman maiden. He had uttered no threats, but clearly she was so terrified of him that she was ill. He waited until she had ceased to retch, then scooped her up into his arms. "There is a stream nearby. I will take you to it." When he placed her beside the swiftly flowing water, he apologized, "I have only jerky made from venison to offer you tonight, and I do not think you will be able to keep it down."
Erica splashed the cool water upon her face for several minutes, hoping the sight of her being sick had also upset Viper's stomach so much he'd leave her alone. "I don't want anything to eat. Just let me sleep."
Viper bent down to lift her into his arms again, but Erica pushed his hands away. "I can still walk," she insisted proudly, but as she rose and turned back toward the clearing she was so filled with dread she had to reach out to touch the trees to keep her balance, and her steps were painfully slow.
"I will put the blanket by the fire." Viper had only the one he had removed from the stallion's back, but the moment he placed it up)on the ground Erica stretched out upon it and closed her eyes. He had expected her to complain that he had no fine buffalo robes to use for her bed, but her even breathing revealed that she was already sound asleep.
Perplexea, the Indian wondered if he had made a serious mistake in seizing the opportunity to take her from New Ulm. He had made his decision the instant he had spotted
her at the back of the hotel. He had wanted her, and now she was his, but while he had anticipated her anger he had not expected her to be so frail and sick. What had happened to her to take the pink glow from her cheeks and the fire from all her actions?
Unable fully to understand his lovely captive's plight. Viper returned to the stallion, which was grazing contentedly, unconcerned by his new master's predicament. Viper had used a leather thong to hobble the horse and checked it now to be certain it would hold, since he did not want to lose the fine animal during the night. Satisfied the valuable mount would not stray, he returned to the fire, sat down, and began slowly to chew on a piece of jerky. He had a fine horse, a knife, a rifle, ammunition, a bow, a quiver full of arrows, a fishing line, and a few pieces of jerky. He was confident his few possessions were more than adequate to fulfill his own needs, but what of Erica's?
Even sound asleep the beautiful young woman fascinated him still. Her lips were parted slightly, reminding him of the delicious taste of her kiss, and he hoped she would be in a far better mood in the morning. When he finished eating his^ meager meal he went to the stream for a drink, then washed of f what was left of the red paint he had used to create a fearsome mask for battle.
Returning to the fire, he paced restlessly until he had to gather more wood to feed the flames. He was still worried Erica would try and run away and considered tying her ankle to his while he slept. If she awoke first she might be able to untie herself, though, and whether she could elude him or not, he knew she would be furious he had tried to hobble her as he had the horse.
Since he was a light sleeper. Viper decided to lie so dose to Erica that she could not stir without waking him. He thought that an excellent plan, until he stretched out beside her. Then she seemed so small and vulnerable he wanted to be closer still. Finally he turned upon his side and pulled her close so she could rest comfortably against the curve of his body. She made not the slightest protest, but he found the more tightly he held her, the closer they became, the more disappointment he felt at the depth of her slumber. He remembered the kisses they had shared
and longed for more, but if Erica were not strong soon, he knew he would have no choice but to take her to where the captives were being held. The women there would be able to care for her if he could not. He wanted the vibrant beauty he had found it impossible to forget to share his nights, not a frail creature who shook with fear whenever he forced her to look at him. If her health did not improve soon, he would not keep her.
He thought of Song of the Wren then. He had seen her only once since the night he had nearly had to fight another brave to protect her, and she had quickly turned away as though sne were ashamed rather than grateful for his help. Wren was pretty, but when she had thrown herself into his arms and wept he had found no pleasure in her nearness, no thrill in the feel of her lips against his bare chest. Sound asleep. Erica was more exciting than Wren would ever be, and he hoped the Indian maiden would soon set her sights on someone else, since he had no interest in her. It was true she was of his own kind, but while he was loath to admit it. Erica was, too.
Viper awakened often that night, and each time he found Erica snuggled against him sleeping peacefully. Her fair hair shone in the moonlight, her beauty taunting him with desire. He had wanted to talk with her, to recapture the rapport they had shared all too briefly, and his impatience for the coming dawn awakened him frequently. But the night passed with maddening slowness. When finally the sky began to lighten, he hoped Erica would awaken, too, but she continued to sleep so soundly he began to worry she might never return from the world of dreams. That the woman he wanted for his wife might be stolen from him as everything else he had ever treasured had been was too bitter a possibility to bear, and he greeted the new day in a mood far darker than the midnight sky.
The sun was high overhead when Erica began to stir. Opening her eyes, she saw a heap of blackberries on the edge of the blanket, and fearing she had been abandoned with no more than a pile of fruit, she sat up and quickly scanned the clearing. Her fears subsided, then returned full-blown when she saw Viper, comfortably seated with a maple tree at his back, no more than ten feet away. He was lazily plucking the brighdy colored feathers from a pheasant's carcass. In the clear light of day, without his war paint, his ready grin was reassuring, until she recalled how she had come to be with him.
"I am glad you are awake. I did not want to eat this fine bird all alone. The berries are fcwr your breakfast,'' he then remembered to add, delighted she had not awakened screaming.
Erica could recall little of the previous night's conversation, but she was certain they had not said goodnight on pleasant terms. She rose shakily, stepped into her slippers, which Viper had thoughtfully placed at the edge of the blanket, then attempted to smooth the wrinkles from her dress. That effort proved futile, however, and she stared in the direction she thought the stream lay. "I am going to wash," she announced firmly, as though she were still in control of her life rather than he.
"You will need my help," Viper offered generously. He laid the half-plucked pheasant aside, but before he
could rise Erica refused his offer.
"All I need from you is some privacy," she responded coldly.
"Erica," Viper called out with a low chuckle.
Thinking he was making fun of the way she looked, which she knew had to be ghastly, the distraught blonde did not stop walking but merely called over her shoulder, "I am a grown woman. I don't need help to wash."
"The stream is the other way," Viper pointed out matter-of-factly, but he was relieved that she seemed to be feeling like her usual feisty self.
Erica wheeled around, horribly embarrassed she had not known that herself, even though her memory of the stream's soothing coolness was dim. "Thank you," she mumbled with a
haughty toss of her tangled curls. She marched past him again, displaying the proud posture that proclaimed her a lady through and through. While she cud not see it. Viper's grin grew twice as wide.
Once she reached tne stream. Erica turned to look back over her shoulder to make certain she had not been followed. Birds called to one another overhead, while chattering squirrels scampered through the branches, but the only animal that concerned her was the Indian. Hoping he would give her a few minutes alone before he came searching for her, she slipped her dress off her shoulders so she could rinse the grime from her face, throat, and arms. She had been too tired to demand a softer bed than the ground had made, but she felt so stiff and sore that morning she vowed to find a better substitute before nightfall.
Her hair was so badly tangled she despaired of ever combing it free of knots. She bent over to drench her curls in the stream, thinking her hair would at least be clean, if not snarl free. When she finally returned to the clearing she was feeling so much better she nearly asked Viper for a comb, then caught herself and did not make so foolish a request. She doubted he would have one, and even if he did she did not want to share anything of his. Sitting down on the blanket, she turned her back toward him, and feeling surprisingly hungry, she began to pop the succulent blackberries into her mouth in rapid succession, pausing only long enough between bites to wipe the dark purple
juice from her chin.
Viper was disappointed in Erica's pose, but rather than order her to face him, he simply got to his feet, walked over to her side, and joined her on the blanket. "Do you know how to clean a bird?" he asked as he made himself comfortable.
"Of course," Erica replied flippandy, although, in truth, she had watched others handle that task but she had never done it herself.
Viper removed the last few feathers, then tossed the limp