Tender savage

by Conn, Phoebe

  Erica had no illusions about the officers' opinion of the Sioux, and she dared provide not even the smallest clue as to her feelings as she attempted to divert the conversation in another direction. "Frankly, I hope the uprising will soon be forgotten, so we can all carry on with our lives and look forward to happy futures," she offered with the most bewitching smile she could display.

  Stymied in their attempts to enjoy her confidence, the officers exchanged disapp>ointed glances and went on to discuss the Union's latest efforts to defeat General Lee. Relieved that she had finally succeeded in ending talk of the uprising, Mark reached beneath the table to give Erica's hand a comforting clasp. Her fingers were frightfully cold, and he kept them clasped tightly in his for a long moment before finishing his supper. At his first opportunity, he excused himself to walk her back to the barracks, giving the early hour of their departure as the reason for their brief stay in the officers' mess.

  "I'm sorry," Mark apologized sincerely. "I expected them to show you more courtesy than that. Most of the captives are so overjoyed to be rescued that they have told their wretched tales again and again without any

  prompting. It's clear those fools are not used to the company of a lady and put their curiosity above their manners."

  "The only reason they considered me a lady is because I didn't reveal the truth," Erica reminded him. "I hated being so evasive, Mark, I just hated it. I can't keep the truth to myself at Camp Release when I want so badly to tell it to help Viper. If everyone wants to call me his whore, it won't matter. My reputation is a small price to pay for his life."

  As they reached the door of the barracks, Mark drew Erica into his arms and whispered softly so his response would not be overheard by those inside. "It won't come to that, since I'll allow no one to insult you so rudely while I'm alive to prevent it, my darling. We can use the fact that you are so obviously a fine lady to request that you give your testimony to the commission in private. They are gentlemen who will keep your remarks in the strictest of confidence."

  Even with that assurance. Erica's gaze was still filled with sorrow. "I can't let anything happen to Viper, Mark. Had it not been for me, I think he might be with Little Crow now. He'd be safe instead of facing a ridiculous trial before a commission that can't help but be biased."

  Mark held her still more tightly, forcing her to rest her head upon his chest. Because of his hopes that they would soon marry, he found himself unable to say anything against the Indian when he knew it would displease her so greatly. "I will do all in my power to see he is given a fair hearing, Erica."

  "Will you really?" the fearful young woman asked breathlessly. "I would be so grateful if you would help us. I have no one else to whom to turn."

  That the radiant light of hope that suddenly lit her eyes came from her love for another man was still a painful sight, but Mark managed to nod. "I want you to be happy, my love. Can't you remember that?"

  Erica reached up to kiss Mark's cheek. "Thank you. Maybe there is some hope for us, after all."

  Greatly encouraged, she broke away from his embrace and hurried inside the barracks, leaving Mark aching with a loneliness he couldn't abide. He walked over to the stables where Viper had been left to bear the indignity of being housed with the horses. He excused the troopers

  standing guard over the Indian for a few minutes, and as soon as they were alone, he hauled the well-built brave to his feet. VijDer's hands were bound behind his back, but Mark considered that no reason to show him any mercy.

  "I just promised Erica I would see you got a fair trial, but that's all I'll promise her." Mark then gave in to the furious impulse he had fought ever since he had first laid eyes on the arrogant brave. He drew back his fist and hit him with the most brutal punch he could throw.

  Vij>er turned his head so Mark's fist caught him on his chin, or the blow would surely have broken his nose. Though dazed. Viper glared at Mark as he issued a challenge of his own. "Coward. If you want to fight, cut my hands loose."

  "You aren't worth the trouble," Mark replied with a hostile sneer, but he had gained a strange sense of satisfaction from knowing he must have hurt Viper even if he hadn't knocked him down. "Erica Hanson is a fine lady. You're not fit to kiss her feet."

  "I have done far more than that," Viper taunted him coldly. He saw Mark's next punch coming and tried to dodge it again, but it caught him above the left eye. His knees buckled, and he slid down into the straw. It infuriated him to know the only choice he had was to pretend • to be unconscious if he didn't want to be beaten to death while his hands remained tied behind his back. He held his breath, forcing back the wave of nauseating dizziness that threatened to engulf him, until he heard Mark leave the small stall and the troopers return. One bent down to give his shoulder a rough shake, and he spit at him rather than warn him with words to keep his distance.

  Since the captain had had the fun of abusing their prisoner, the trooper saw no reason not to follow his example. He straightened up, and taking careful aim, gave Viper a brutal kick in the ribs. "Sweet dreams," he taunted sarcastically as he turned away, and Viper could not draw the breath to insult him in reply.

  As they prepared to leave the fort the next morning. Erica took one look at Viper's black eye and broke away from Mark to rush to him. A deep purple bruise marred the smooth flesh of the brave's left side, amd she was appalled

  by the shocking evidence that he had suffered ainother beating.

  "Who did this to you?" she demanded to know, clearly ready to give the culprits the same brutal punishment they had dealt out to him.

  Viper did not reply, but his eyes narrowed as he looked toward Mark who was rapidly striding their way. Erica kissed him quickly, then whispered in his ear. "When I cause a disturbance, you must get away I"

  Mark was at her side before Viper could acknowledge that plea, and she turned the full fury of her anger on him. "Is this how you promised to help us? Well, is it? Do you just plan to beat him so badly he'll not live to see Camp Release? Is that how you mean to see he avoids standing trial?"

  While he was certain he wasn't resfxjnsible for the damage to Viper's side, Mark couldn't deny he had given him the black eye. "He and I had an argument last night. It doesn't concern you, though. Now let's get on our way."

  When he reached for her arm. Erica pulled away to elude his grasp. "You bastard, you lied to mel"

  "No, I did not," Mark insisted, disgusted to have her make such a scene in front of his men. She was high-spirited and used to speaking her mind, but no officer could keep the respect of his troops if he allowed a woman to give him a tongue-lashing in public. Knowing that, he spoke sharply to her. "We are leaving here immediately. If you aren't ready to go, then you will be left behind." He turned his back on her then, gave the order to mount up, and swung himself up into the gray gelding's saddle. "Well, are you coming with us, or no5" he called out to her, his tone still abrasive.

  Erica looked up at Viper, her glance imploring him anew. She paused to give him another hasty kiss and again whispered, "You must get away." She then hurried to mount Sweetheart, but she refused to ride beside Mark. Instead, she maneuvered the mare in front of his horse, again following Viper as the troopers moved into place to begin the day's journey. Clearly distraught, she made no attempt to hide the blackness of her mood as she frantically searched her mind for a scheme that would create enough excitement to allow her badly battered husband to get away while he still had the strength to flee.

  As they rode along, Erica's eyes strayed frequently to the river. Sweetheart seemed surefooted, but the determined young woman hoped that if she forced her too near the water's edge, the docile mare might slip in the mud. She would then have a split second to app>ear to lose her balance, slide from her mount's back, and topple headlong into the river. She was positive Mark would dive in after her, and Viper would have the chance he so desperately needed to break away.

  As on the previous day's journey. Erica spent most of her time on the ride stu
dying the play of muscles across her beloved's back. The brave's hands were tied in front of him and he rode ais easily as he had the previous day, his fingers entwined in the black stallion's long mane. She was certain that were he to jab the horse in the flanks with his heels, urging him to break into a run, the powerful cmimal would be impossible for Sergeant Maguire to hold in check. Surely the stallion was far more swift them any of the mounts the army had provided, and he could swiftly elude the soldiers before they could either fire or give pursuit. The plan seemed plausible to Erica, and since the need for action was desperate, she began looking for a likely spot to carry it out.

  Since Erica had taken pains to ride ahead of him, Mark kept his distance. He was not pleased, however. Viper's face and sleek body were deeply tanned, so he had not

  expected the punches he had given him to leave him so badly bruised. That was unfortunate, since he had promised Song of the Wren that he would say the brave had surrendered without a fight. Viper's appearance made that claim difficult to believe, but actually, the Indian had not tried to fight them when they had surrounded him at the farmhouse. It would have been far better if he had, for then Mark knew he would have been justified in shooting him. "I'll get you yet, you gray-eyed devil," he vowed softly under his breath. His right hand strayed to the smooth burl walnut handle of his Colt as he hop)cd the Indian would be foolish enough to give him a reason to use it.

  When they reached the Redwood Ferry, Mark spent several minutes trying out various strategies in his mind before he gave the orders on how their crossing would proceed. He first sent Erica to the opposite side of the river with half the troopers. When the ferry was pulled back to the northeastern shore, he drew his Colt and kept it trained on Viper as the remaining troopers tu^ed on the rope to carry them across. He smiled at the Indian, silently daring him to try an escape, but Viper kept his eyes trained on the opposite shore where Erica stoocl waiting for them.

  Once the group had reassembled on the southwestern bank of the Minnesota, they mounted their horses and continued the trip following the same order of march they had begun that morning. Erica drew the ends of Sweetheart's reins through her fingers as she took the place behind Viper. She was biding her time, but growing mcreasingly anxious. They had ridden only a few minutes past the ferry when she saw a cluster of trees ahead and was certain she would never find a better spot to pull off her ruse.

  She pulled back on the mare's reins, gradually slowing the horse's pace to increase the distance between herself and Viper. She waited until Sergeant Maguire and the Indian had passed under the low-hanging limbs and were partially hidden from view before she gave her mare's reins a fierce yank, sending the good-natured horse careening backwards into Mark's gelding.

  Sweetheart tried to avoid slamming into the gray horse by dancing sideways, and just as Erica had hoped, the

  mare lost her footing in the slippery mud at the water's edge. It was a simple matter then for Erica to throw up her hands as though she were terrified. She screamed and kicked away the stirrups, then simply rolled sideways off the mare's back and plummeted into the river. Kicking as best she could in the confining folds of the blue dress, she let the rapid current Ccirry her out into midstream.

  Having heard how Captain Marsh had tragically drowned not far from the ferry, Mark took the precaution of swiftly removing his hat, jacket, boots, Colt, and holster before he followed Erica into the water. His only thoughts were of her. A powerful swimmer, he began to close the distance between them swiftly, but he was astounded to discover she seemed to be swimming with the current in an effort to elude his grasp. He realized then in an instant what she had done, and cursed his own stupidity that he had not been smart enough to have one of the troop^ers ride between her and the river since she had refused his company.

  While Mark pursued her. Erica floated easily downstream, not struggling, but gliding through the rushing water as though she were a freshwater mermaid fully at home in the river's depths. Her hair streamed out behind her creating a shimmering golden cape. When Mark at last overtook her she found the most difficult part of her plan was in attempting to appear grateful.

  It was impossible to slap the gentle smile from her face in the water, but the instant Mark had succeeded in towing Erica to the shore he dragged her up on dry land and shook her so violently he nearly snapped her neck. "You crazy little fooll Grown men have drowned in that river," he screamed. "Is that damn Indian worth the sacrifice of your life?"

  Erica stood reeling in Mark's savage embrace, fighting back her tears as his fingers dug into the tender flesh of her upper arms. "What do you mean?" she asked innocently when she was able to catch her breath and speak.

  "What do you mean?" Inturiated by her feigned innocence, Mark shook her again, flinging droplets of water in all directions from her sopping curls. "You know damn well what I mean! You didn't fall into the river, you jumped, and you could have drowned. That brave isn't worth one minute of your time, let alone your life," he

  complained bitterly as he gave his jealousy free rein.

  The bedraggled girl did no more than shrug. "I'm sorry you were so badly brightened, but to think I intentionally jumped into the river is ridiculous. Why would I do that?"

  Before Mark could reply, they heard the sound of gunfire in the distance, and the terrified look that filled Erica's eyes told him all he wished to know. "I hope to God that was Maguire sending that blasted Indian to his reward." Taking her hand he started off in the direction they had come, but a trooper rode up with their horses before they had taken more than half a dozen steps. It was then Mark noticed the worn fabric of Erica's blue dress was nearly transparent, but since he had thrown off his jacket he had no way to restore her appearance to the modest one it had been. What his men must think of her he was disgusted to imagine, but knowing he would soon leave them behind when he returned to Delaware, he did not worry over their opinions of his beautiful, but maddeningly willful, fiancee.

  When they reached the spot where Mark had left his clothes, there was no sign of the other troopers or Viper. Ignoring his wet socks, the irate captain jammed his feet into his boots, slammed his hat on his head, and strapped on his holster. He then tossed his jacket to Erica, who thought he meant for her to carry it and merely placed it across her lap.

  "Put that onl" Mark insisted in a hoarse rasp. "Unless you want the men gawking at your breasts until your dress is dry."

  Erica looked down, and finding the damp folds of the sheer garment outlined her curvaceous figure far too well, she pulled on the dark blue jacket without argument. Anxious to find out who had fired the shots and at whom, she started on up the path, but Mark overtook her and yanked Sweetheart's reins from her hands.

  "Oh no, you don't," he cautioned belligerently, "I don't trust you not to try that stupid stunt again." Replaced his gelding next to the river and led Sweetheart by his left side. "I will consider you a prisoner, too, since that is the way you behave."

  Erica made no effort to deny his accusation, since she didn't care what he thought of her. When they rounded a curve and found Viper sitting in the dirt surrounded by

  the troopers, she didn't wait for Mark to give her permission to dismount, she leaped off the mare's back immediately and went to her husband's side.

  Viper was attempting unsuccessfully to stem the flow of blood from the jagged cut his teeth had gouged in his lower lip when he had fallen from his horse. At that moment, he didn't know which galled him more, that he had been thrown, or that Erica seemed to think it was her responsibility to arrange his escape. He was a Sioux warrior, and a fine one. He didn't need a woman, and a white woman at that, to plan strategy for him. He had allowed her to do it simply because he had had no opportunity to argue wtih her about it. Still, he was disgusted with himself for failing to make good on his escape, since she was so determined to set him free. When Erica placed her hands on his shoulders, he pushed them aside and glared as angrily at her as he had at Maguire.

  Misinterpret
ing the reason for the rejection of her attentions. Erica turned a furious glance toward the sergeant. "What did you do to him?" she asked accusingly.

  "Why, I didn't do nothing, ma'am, " Maguire replied with a satisfied smirk. "Your screams spooked his horse and he fell off. He must have hit his mouth when he landed in the dirt. I figure he'll be all right in a minute or two."

  While Mark recognized that story as most definitely an exaggeration if not an outright lie, since it offered no explanation for the gunfire they had heard, he was wise enough not to ask Maguire for the truth while Erica was within hearing. "You look all right to me now. Viper. If you can't manage the stallion, then you can walk, but I've no more time to waste here. Get moving."

  Erica didn't think twice before arguing with that order. "Can't you see the man's been injured? We might as well stop here to rest and have something to eat before we go on. We'll all feel more like making good time then."

  "I am in command here," Mark reminded her sarcastically, but he had to admit they could all do with a rest. It would give his clothes a chance to dry, if nothing else, and since it was damned uncomfortable to ride in damp pants, he agreed. "We'll wait half an hour and no more. Erica. If Viper isn't up to sitting his horse by then, I'll tie him across the stallion's back like a sack of flour." Nodding to