Tender savage

by Conn, Phoebe

e one of them is your fiancee. I am looking forward to meeting her. We all are."

  Mark rose quickly to his feet, anxious to be on his way. "Thank you, sir. She is a lovely young woman, and I am certain she will enjoy meeting you, too." He could not face the prospect that she might be changed in any way. As Mark left to make the arrangements to get his search party under way, he could not get Wren's comments about Erica out of his mind. Erica was an enchanting creature. Men always found her appealing, but could she actually have bewitched a cunning Indian brave by the name of Viper? He needed only a moment's reflection to decide she could have done such a thing for only one purpose: to save her life and come back to him. He swore to himself that no matter what wretched thing she had done, or been forced to do, he would still make her his wife, and proudly.

  Erica sat crosslegged on the grass at the side of the house, the striped tomcat cradled in her lap as she watched Viper chop wood. He worked with an effortless ease, swinging the axe with a lazy rhythm, splitting the logs without appearing to feel the slightest bit of strain. As usual, his chest was bare, and she found the sight of his muscular body as deeply pleasurable as his charming company. "Since gathering wood for the fire is the woman's responsibility, I'm surprised you did not tell me to chop « the firewood for the winter," she teased happily.

  Laughing with her, Viper paused for a moment to rest. "Gathering wood is women's work," he agreed. "But since white women insist upon living in houses and cooking on cast iron stoves, they need logs to burn. What would you say if I told you to go out and gather logs?"

  "I would say that I might be gone a very long time." They often talked about the differences between his life and hers, but it was always with humor, never with one insisting the other's way of doing things was wrong.

  "It would not take you long to find a man to do your work," Viper responded with a sly grin. "Just be careful he does not ask to be paid before the work is done."

  "And how would you expect me to pay him?" Erica scratched the cat's ears playfully, but her eyes never left her handsome husband's face.

  "With money, of course. How else?" Yet Viper's

  suggestive glance said there were far more intriguing possibilities than his teasing question implied.

  "I think I am very lucky you are willing to chop the wood," Erica remarked with an enchanting smile.

  "Yes, you should remember that." Viper picked up the next log and placed it on the stump, eager to finish his day's work so he and his wife could get on to far more exciting things. He looked up often and smiled, silently promising the delights he planned for them to share soon.

  Nearby, Mark Randall raised his hand, preparing to signal his men to move up into position. They could hear the sound of someone chopping wood as they approached the house stealthily, and while the possibility that an Indian brave would be doing such a chore struck him as ridiculous, the newly promoted captain was nonetheless primed to discover just who was. This farmhouse was the last along the Cottonwood River, and if they did not find Erica here, Mark had no idea where else to look. At his command, from either end of the house armed troopers moved out swiftly to encircle Erica and her husband. Their rifles aimed for Viper's heart, they instantly blocked any escape the brave might try and make.

  'Throw down the axe," Mark called out loudly, so excited by the unexf)ectedly delightful sight of the woman he adored that he could not possibly speak below a shout. That she was dressed in a buckskin dress and moccasins, with gruesome necklaces of strange claws around her neck, shocked him, but he was thankful she had obviously been treated far better than the pitiful captives he had met at Camp Release. "Get up. Erica, and come here to me." Having once glanced in her direction, Mark kept his Colt revolver trained on Viper. "I said, drop the axe," he called out again, infuriated that the brave had not immediately followed his order.

  "Mark? Is that you?" His hat partially shaded his face, but she recognized his voice instantly. Erica could scarcely believe her eyes, she was so startled by the sudden appearance of her former fiance and a dozen armed soldiers. "Tell your men to drop their rifles instead," she directed as she leaped to her feet and sent the tomcat

  scurrying. "This man is my husband, and you've no reason to threaten to shoot him."

  Since he was the only husband Mark intended Erica to have, he dismissed her claim as some absurd delusion resulting from the ordeal of her captivity. "Whatever desperate game you've been forced to play, it's over. Erica. This man is under arrest. I've promised to bring him in alive to stand trial for his part in the uprising, but if he doesn't drop that axe this minute, I will forget that pledge and take his body back instead."

  While Erica's manner of dress had shocked him, Mark was totally unprepared to accept this man as one called Viper. His imagination had painted a far different picture of the savage, whom he had expected to be repulsive in the extreme. This Indian, however, was powerfully built, if lean, with features so finely chiseled that not even his unruly mane of coal-black hair marred the elegance of his appearance. That his eyes were a light, pale gray was also astonishing, but their unusual color did not hide the arrogance of his glance. Not about to allow that unspoken challenge to go unanswered, Mark called again to Erica.

  "Come here to me so his blood does not splatter all over you when I shoot him. Even if he does not speak English, he must understand what it is I told him to do."

  While she thought Mark was merely bluffing, when Viper kept a firm grip on the axe handle Erica did not allow the men's idiotic standoff to continue. She rushed to Viper's side and wrenched the axe from his hand. Carrying it over to Mark, she dropped it at his feet. "There, you have the blasted axe. Now stop bullying my husband. He's committed no crime and there's no need to take him anywhere for trial. Tell your men to drop their rifles. Put your pistol away, too, and I'll be happy to introduce you."

  Mark took his eyes off Viper only briefly to glance down at the woman he loved. Her hair was loose, the blond curls tumbling down over her shoulders, and he thought she looked ridiculous in buckskins adorned with pnmitive jewelry when a woman of her fair beauty belonged in fine silks and satins worn with precious jewels. "I thought you might need clothes, so I've brought some for you. I'll unpack them while you bathe." He then turned to the man standing at his right.

  "Sergeant, take the Indian's knife, tie him up, and keep him under guard. We'll leave for Camp Release at dawn, and I don't want to have to waste any more time looking for him."

  "Markl" Erica couldn't abide the high-handed manner in which he was treating them. Gesturing toward Vif>er, she attempted again to explain their true situation. "Have you suddenly gone deaf? This man is my husband. I will not allow you to tie him up. You have no right to do that. He's not done anything wrong." Before Mark could catch her, she dashed back to Viper's side and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You'll have to tie us up together, because I won't let you treat him like a criminal when he's done nothing wrong,"

  Mark gestured with his Colt, bringing the ring of troopers m a step closer. "If he's innocent, then he'll have no reason to fear a trial. Step aside or I will tie you up, too, but not with him. Now movel"

  In response. Viper slipped his arm around Erica's waist and pulled her closer to his side. The insolence of that gesture was more than Mark could bear, and with a nod to the man directly behind Viper, he issued a terse order. "Knock him out."

  Erica screamed as the butt of the soldier's rifle slammed into the back of Viper's head. With her standing in his arms, the Indian had had no chance to dodge that vicious blow, and he fell forward into the dust, unconscious.

  The horrified blonde knelt by her husband's side, her tears falling uF)on his cheek as she felt for the pulse in his throat. Reassured he had not been killed, she began to scream hysterically at Mark. "How dare you treat him so? How dare you? He has done nothing to deserve such a beating."

  "I want him securely tied," Mark repeated to the sergeant. He then shoved his revolver into his holster, went to Erica's side,
and yanked her to her feet. When she struggled to break free, he swung her up into his arms, and as his troops cheered, he carried her into the small house and tossed her down upon the feather bed. Before she could spring to her feet, he slung his hat aside and fell across her. Grabbing her wrists, he effectively subdued her efforts to flee before he spoke.

  "You needn't tell me what's happened to you. It's more than plain, but it's over. Do you understand me? It's over. That savage will be put on trial, and you will go home with me to Wilmington. This is all my fault, not yours, so I'm not blaming you. Now if you will promise to stop fighting me, I'll let you go."

  Seething with rage. Erica barely heard Mark's words. "Let me go, you bastard!" she screamed. He was much too heavy to dislodge from the bed, far too strong for her to escape, but she did her damnedest to do it. "Get off mel" she shrieked.

  "Did you ever say that to your redskinned lover?" Already knowing the answer, Mark lowered his mouth to hers, stifling her stream of insults with the hungry kisses he had waited far too long to give. When Erica did not respond, but instead stiffened rebelliously, he gave up the effort to turn her anger to passion, but he did not release her, nor move away.

  "This husband of yours, where did you marry him?" Mark asked accusingly.

  Jolted to reality by the full import of that question, Erica turned her head away as she stubbornly refused to answer. In my heart, she whispered silently to herself, in my very soul, but not in any ceremony Mark would recognize or understand. Hot tears of despair poured down her cheeks as she thought how cruelly he had treated the man she loved. "I am sorry. I know this must be an awful shock for you, but Viper truly is my husband."

  Seeing her apology was sincere, Mark sat up and pulled the weeping blonde into his arms. While he had searched for her, he had repeatedly promised himself that he would not blame her or lose his temper with her, no matter what she had been forced to endure, but he had failed miserably in that vow. He patted her back and hugged her tightly as he pressed his lips to her temple. Her fair skin was now lightly tanned and wet from her tears, but as delightfully soft as he had remembered it to be. "The brave kidnapped you from New Ulm, Erica. There were witnesses, your cousin, for one. I've spoken to him, and he told me Vipjer carried you off kicking and screaming. That was no elopement, but a brazen abduction."

  Unable to deny the apparent truth of his words, Erica

  snuggled down in Mark's arms, hoping with all her heart she could make him understand what had really happened. "Gunter is all right, then? What about my aunt and uncle?"

  "Yes, they are fine. With the uprising over, they were with those who returned to New Ulm with plans to rebuild the city. There are not many with that courage, but they are among them."

  Erica bit her lower lip nervously, uncertain how to phrase her next question. "Did Gunter tell you that I knew Vif)er? That he and I were friends before the uprising began?"

  Astonished by that question, Mark placed his fingers under Erica's chin to tilt her gaze up to his. "What do you mean? How could you p>ossibly have been friends with an Indian brave?"

  "Gunter did not tell you?" Erica asked again, her lower lip trembling as huge tears continued to escape her thick lashes and flow down her flushed cheeks. "He said nothing about seeing us together?"

  "My God, Erica, were you so angry with me for refusing to marry you that you would stoop to disgracing yourself with an Indian brave to get even?"

  "Nol It was nothing like that!" Yet Erica found Mark's piercing gaze impossible to return, and looked down at the shiny brass buttons on his coat instead. Tears continued to slide down her cheeks as she tried to explain how she had met Viper. She took care to make the tale as innocent as |x>ssible. The story sounded plausible to her, since it was so close to the truth, but when she said the brave had come to New Ulm to rescue rather than kidnap her, Mark laughed out loud.

  "So you were flirting with an Indian brave. Is that it? You considered it a harmless pastime, no doubt, since you are so very good at it, but Viper took you up on it. Well, your little escapade is over. Erica. Don't call the man your husband ever again, because he was never that. Since he seems to have treated you well, I will thank him for his kindness, but I am taking him back to stand trial and then I am taking you home. I told your father I would marry you here, and he agrees that is the best course."

  "You and my father have decided again what is best for

  me?" Erica asked resentfully. "Well, the answer is no. I will not go back to Wilmington, and I will not marry youl"

  Mark's eyes narrowed as he recoiled from the hostility of her words. He could think of only one reason she would think she had to remain in Minnesota, and he quickly moved to satisfy his curiosity. "There's been time. Are you carrying that savage's child? Is that why you think you must stay with him?"

  Mortified that he would ask so j^ersonal a question. Erica shook her head violently. How she had escaj>ed conceiving she did not know, but she had. "No, there will be no child." At least not yet, she told herself.

  "Thank God for that," Mark responded emphatically. He remained seated upon the bed, holding her m his arms as he tried to think how best to reason with her when she was in a totally unreasonable mood. Since the situation was so far removed from the one he had expected to find, he decided to go slowly, to carefully lead her where he wished to go taking one small step at a time. "We need decide nothing today. Erica. There will be plenty of time to make our plans alter we reach Camp Release where the Indians are being tried."

  "I'm staying with Viper," the defiant blonde vowed stubbornly. "I don't care what you and my father have planned for me, I won't leave him."

  "Do you realize how swiftly I could make you a widow if you keep insisting you are that savage's wife?" Mark inquired with a slight smile, as though he would not think twice about shooting Viper.

  Terrified by that threat. Erica again tried to escap>e his grasp, and again failed. "How dare you make such vile threats to me? How dare you? He would never treat you in so despicable a fashion."

  "I doubt an Indian's principles can be any higher than mine," Mark respxDnded confidently, but he had not meant to upset her needlessly when he would never execute a man for the crime of loving her. "Now I want you to take a bath, a long, hot one to wash away every trace of your Indian lover's touch, and then you'll put on the gown I brought for you to wear. We'll have dinner together, and in the morning we'll leave for Camp Release. If after his trial you

  still want to remain with Viper, and he still wants you for his wife, we will make whatever decisions must be made then."

  Mark released her and rose to his feet. "I'm glad you've not been tortured or abused, but I won't pretend I'm not bitterly disappointed that you seem to care more for some savage you've known a few brief weeks than you do for me. I still love you with all my heart, and I always will."

  Erica remained on the rumpled bed, her emotions a painful confusion of guilt and despair, for she knew she had betrayed Mark's trust in the most cruel of ways. Drying her eyes on the back of her hand, she made an attempt to use his affection for her to make him see her love for Viper was neither a hasty infatuation nor a sordid affair. "Viper and I have known we belong together almost from the hour we met. He knew I was engaged to you, but that did not prevent us from falling in love. We knew there were bound to be problems at the end of the uprising, but we were prepared to face them. If you love me so dearly, can't you help me now? Can't you put your jealousy aside and help me to find happiness with the man I love?"

  That Erica would prefer some half-naked savage to him was more than Mark could bear. He reached for her hand, pulled her off the bed, and drew her close. "What happened to the love you swore you felt for me? You were heartbroken when I postponed our wedding, and now you expect me to casually kiss you good-bye and allow you to live with a Sioux? You ask too much, but I have a question for you. Can you tell me with all honesty that you feel nothing for me anymore? Nothing at all? Can you look me directly in the eye a
nd say that^"

  Erica swallowed hard, forcing back the wave of uncertainty that question brought. Not knowing how to respond, she tried to change the subject. "I know it must have hurt you when I left without telling you good-bye."

  "Hurt doesn't begin to describe the pain. That's a dead issue, however. It's done, over. I want to hear you say you don't love me. Can you do that, or not?" he demanded sarcastically. "Or have the last few weeks been so difficult for you that you no longer know what you want, or whom?"

  Erica could not deny that Mark was very handsome. His light brown hair had been bleached by the summer sun until it now glistened with streaks of p>ale gold. His skin was deeply tanned, complementing his well-shaped features. The soft brown ot his eyes still held a world of emotion, while the love that shone so brightly from their depths was unchanged. She could not even recall the time she had not loved Mark, but once Viper had entered her life, he had simply ceased to exist. Yet here he was demanding to hear the truth of her feelings, and she had no idea what to say. "Don't ask me to say that I do not love you, for I always will. It is only that now I love Viper more, and I wish to live my life as his wife rather than yours."

  The muscles along Mark's jaw tightened menacingly. He had absolutely no intention of surrendering the woman he loved without a fight, and at present the advantage was his. "The man will have to stand trial. Erica. Hundreds died in the uprising, and those who took part are being called to account for it."

  "The war was not going well for the Union when last I heard news of it. If the Confederacy wins, do you expect to be put on trial for being on the losing side?"

  "Of course not," Mark denied with a dark frown. "Don't be absurd."