Tender savage

by Conn, Phoebe

  the sergeant, he led the man away from the group and demanded he reveal the truth of the situation.

  "Soon as your woman started to scream, the brave let out a yell that would have curdled the blood of an ox. He lurched by me and ripped the rope on the stallion clean out of my hands, but I managed to get off a couple of shots before he was out of range. Missed the Indian, but I nicked his horse's rump, and the critter started to buck something fierce and shook that red devil off into the dirt. He must have hit his mouth on a rock or a root, but I sure as hell can't take credit for his getting hurt."

  "Your shot hit his horse?" Mark moaned in despair. "If you get another chance to fire at him, aim higher!" He stalked off then to inspect the stallion's wound. The horse would make a fine mount for a soldier, and the army was too short of horses to wound one accidentally. Fortunately, he found the animal had only been grazed by the bullet, but his glistening hide would be marred as badly as though he had been carelessly branded.

  The stallion shied away from Mark's touch, his glance as suspicious as his owner's had always been. "Don't worry," the captain offered in a soothing tone, "the salve we use on the men will surely work on you, too." He went to his saddle bags for the jar of medicinal cream, but he tossed it to Maguire and told him to see to the horse rather than taking care of Viper's stallion himself.

  Erica paid no attention to the activity of the troopers as they prepared to eat the midday meal a few feet away. She continued to kneel in front of her husband, hoping they would have a few minutes to discuss their next move without being overheard. That Viper had fallen from his horse's back made not the least bit of sense to her, since she knew him to be an excellent rider. Of course, with his hands bound, he would not have had his usual balance, and she thought perhaps that had caused him to be unnaturally clumsy. Whatever his problem had been, she feared she would not have another chance to distract Mark from what he seemed to consider his sacred duty to deliver Viper to Camp Release for trial.

  Viper watched Mark walk off with Maguire, then spoke to Erica in a hoarse whisper. "Do not try to help me again. Did you really think I would leave you with Mark? Had I gotten away, I would only have had to come back for you."

  While Erica was stunned by the bitterness of his tone, she wasn't ready to give up her efforts to set him free. "You don't understand. If you are tried for taking part in the uprising, you could hangl I would jump in the river a hundred times if I could keep you from reaching Camp Release, because I don't trust the army to give you a fair trial."

  "No trial for an Indian has ever been fair," Viper agreed with a sullen frown. "But I must be the one to say where and when I will break free, if I decide I must."

  "You already know that you must!" Erica scolded, for she had no patience with his domineering attitude when his situation W2is so dire. "I'll try and think of something else, some other way to help you get away," she whisp>ered anxiously.

  "No, it is too dangerous for you," Viper insisted, his mood deadly serious, too. Then seeing by her determined expression and knowing she would do as she pleased, he realized he would have to refuse her help more emphatically. "No Sioux warrior wants his woman fighting his battles. Do not disgrace me by doing so ever again," he commanded with an arrogant sneer. With a display of his usual agility, he rose to his feet before finishing what he had to say. "I will tell you what to do, but you are never to tell me!"

  Overhearing that remark, Mark couldn't help but laugh. "You are wasting your breath arguing with Erica. Haven't you learned that much by now?"

  Viper spit at the ground, clearing his mouth of the last of the blood from the deep cut in the tender flesh of his lower lip. Considering that rude gesture his reply to Mark, he turned his back on Erica and walked over to the trooper who usually brought him his food and waited for him to untie the rope that bound his hands and give him something to eat.

  Embarrassed that Viper had walked off and left her. Erica gratefully accepted the hand Mark offered to help her rise to her feet. He had taken off his shirt and laid it over a bush to dry, and the sight of his bare chest with its thick mat of tawny curls startled her. She was used to seeing Viper without a shirt, and while his deeply bronzed chest was smooth and hairless, he had never looked nearly so undressed as Mark did now.

  Seeing the surprise in her glance, Mark accurately guessed its cause. "I did not think it would bother you to have me go without a shirt, since that savage never bothers to wear one."

  Since Mark's build was an attractive.one, the sight of him half clothed was not unpleasant, but Erica had no wish to pay him compliments, since they would only encourage the attentions she did not wish to receive. "You just surprised me, that's all." She looked down at the front of her dress rather than meeting his gaze. The fabric was still damp and stained where she had knelt in the dirt,

  "Do you want to put on your other dress?" Mark asked considerately, knowing how fastidious Erica had always been about her appearance.

  Surprised that he would suggest such a thing. Erica failed to realize he meant the pink gown rather 3ian the buckskin. "You wouldn't object to my wearing it?" she asked rather shyly, still finding it difficult to lift her gaze above the broad expanse of his bare chest.

  "Why should I object? There's still enough time for you to change your clothes and have something to eat."

  "All right, thank you." Erica hurried to Sweetheart and untied the pillowslip that contained her other clothes. She moved behind the clump of bushes where Mark had draped his shirt and quickly tore off the damp blue gown and replaced it with the soft buckskin dress. She had lost her old slippers in the river and she put on her moccasins to replace them. That her undergarments were damp couldn't be helped, but she felt so much better to be wearing a clean dress that she was smiling as she returned to the men. When Mark looked at her with a menacing glare, she realized instantly that they had not understood each other.

  "The pink gown is far too special to wear for riding. I'm sorry if you thought that was what I meant to put on."

  Hearing a snicker, Mark turned to find Viper smiling widely despite the cut in his lip, which had now begun to swell. The bastard was actually gloating over the fact that Erica had chosen to wear the dress he had given her rather than the pink gown, which had been a present from Mark. That was more than the usually supremely confident captain could bear in silence. "Just what are you staring at, Indian?"

  "My wife," Viper responded, finally replying to one of Mark's questions with words rather than a darkly challenging stare.

  Mark would have gone for him then and there, but Erica grabbed hold of his arm so tightly he could not shake her free. "Come sit with me while we eat," she invited graciously, but she would not have turned him loose had he refused.

  Cursing under his breath, Mark grabbed enough jerky and biscuits to share and followed Erica to a shady spot some twenty feet away from the others. "That is the most obnoxious man it has ever been my misfortune to meet. How can you stand to be around him?"

  Erica laughed at that observation, since it held more than a grain of truth. "He can be obnoxious, I'll grant you that, but he is also very bright and fun loving, as well."

  "And I am not?" Mark asked pointedly.

  Erica had no wish to fight with her former fiance and again placed her fingertips upon his arm, her touch light and sweet this time. "You have many wonderful qualities, too, Mark, but really there is no comparison between you and Viper. It would be easier to compare smoke to wind than you to him."

  "Of course, I am the smoke," Mark remarked with an exasperated sigh. "Do I do nothing more than blacken your clothes and bring tears to your eyes?"

  Since jerky had never been one of her favorite foods. Erica handed the strip he had given her back to him and nibbled upon one of the hard biscuits instead. "Those were merely two things that are difficult to describe, Mark. I do not think of you as smoke and Viper as wind."

  "Should I be pleased by that?" Mark inquired snidely before ripping off another bite
of the tough dried meat.

  "Suit yourself," Erica responded disappointedly, for she had no patience with his self-indulgent mood. The flavorless biscuit broke apart in her hand and she tossed the crumbs away for birds to gather, since she found it so unapjjetizing herself. "Let's not play games with each other. I meant what I said, I'll make whatever bargain I must to convince you to set Viper free. You don't care what part he played in the uprising. You hate him only because he fell in love with me. That's no crime, Mark. Set him free tonight while the others are asleep. They won't g^ess the

  truth if you don't tell them."

  Mark laid the jerky aside as he appeared to give her words more serious consideration than he had the first time she had made that astonishing offer. Finally he turned to face her, his gaze mirroring the depth of his disappointment that she seemed to care so little for his feelings. "What do you plan to do if I agree, spend your whole life pretending we are happily married when you would much rather be another man's wife?"

  His question was a valid one, and knowing it deserved a truthful answer. Erica chose her words carefully. "I know I would not be unhappy with you, Mark. You are a fine man. We could make a life together, if only you would agree to set Viper free. Won't you please do it?"

  "Kiss me," Mark dared her suddenly. "I want to see just how good an actress you are before I take you to bed."

  While she was stunned by that taunt. Erica swallowed her pride and leaned toward him. She raised her hands to his shoulders, then slipped her fingers through the curls at his nape as she had done so many times in the past. In a futile attempt to shut out all thought of the man she adored, she kissed Mark with what she hoped would be a close enough imitation of the way she had once felt about him to make him regard her as a very fine actress indeed.

  His heart overflowing with desire as her lips touched his, Mark leaned forward, forcing Erica down into the grass. He deepened the kiss she had begun and languidly made it his own. While he knew he would never have his fill of her, he would not make her his wife at the cost of his pride. It did no good to tell himself that even if Viper's image never left her heart, he would be the one to share her bed and father the beautiful children she was sure to have. He could not allow Viper to go free when he wanted the man dead, forever beyond her reach. When at last he drew away, he shook his head, but the excuse he gave her was a long way from the truth. "I can't agree to your terms. The man's a killer, and I won't have the blood of his innocent victims on my hands, not even to make you my wife."

  Strangely, Erica had expected Mark's answer, but that made his coolly worded rebuff no less humiliating to bear. Knowing how stubbornly he would cling to a decision once he had made it, she decided she would have to accept the sorry fact that he would never help her, and drop the

  subject of marriage. Despite Viper's angry insistence that he did not want nor need her help. Erica was still determined to provide it. If not before they reached Camp Release, then she would find a way to do it after they arrived.

  Viper was seated and eating between two troopers who were barely out of their teens. Their rifles were carelessly balanced across their laps as they gave their full concentration to chewing the long strips of highly spiced jerky they had been given for lunch. Despite their inattention, the brave was not tempted to disarm either of the youn^ men, for Sergeant Maguire was standing nearby with his rifle trained at his head. The Indian was paying no attention to the threat posed by the sergeant, however. He was far too busy watching the conversation taking place between Mark and his wife. While he could not overhear their words, he could tell by the intensity of her expression that the topic was an imf>ortant one to her.

  When the captain leaned across Erica, forcing her to lie down in the tall grass as he kissed her. Viper tossed his uneaten jerky aside. Seething with jealousy, which swiftly erupted into a furious rage, he forced himself to breathe deeply and wait until the man had left Erica alone in the shade and started toward the seated circle of soldiers. When Mark got within five feet of him. Viper leaped to his feet, exploding in a screaming fit of anger as he lunged for Mark's throat.

  "She is my wifel" he proclaimed loudly, so no one would misunderstand why he had jumped the officer.

  While he had foolishly allowed Viper to catch him off guard, Mark tossed his Colt aside and waved Maguire off, unwilling to allow the sergeant to end the fight before he had had a chance to show he could handle the brave himself. He knew the Indian had every reason to hate him, but he despised the brave as well and was eager to fight him. They were near equals in size, although he was slightly taller, but Mark realized too late that Viper was far stronger. The grip of the wily Indian's hands was like hot bands of iron around his throat, choking him so badly that his knees buckled and he pulled Viper down with him as he fell to the ground.

  Scrambling astride Mark, Vij^er released his stranglehold upon Mark's throat and began to slam his fists into

  the officer with a series of blows so punishing that he quickly turned his once handsome face into a blood-red mask. Mark could do little but throw up his arms to defend himself as he struggled simply to refill his lungs with air. He had not been in a fistfight since childhood, and it was now pathetically obvious to him that Viper knew how to fight every way but fair.

  Erica watched in horror as the soldiers got to their feet to surround the men struggling in the dirt. They were shouting rude words of encouragement and whooping with glee. None appeared to notice that their commanding officer was getting a terrible beating, as the fight was proving to be so wonderfully entertaining. Certain the fools would allow Viper to beat Mark to death and then feel justified in shooting the brave for murder, she dodged past them. Leaping upon Viper's back, she grabbed two handfuls of his gleaming black hair and pulled with all her might. Not only did that frantic tactic fail to dislodge him, he seemed not even to notice her presence and continued to pummel Mark with vicious blows.

  Not about to give up her efforts to separate the two men. Erica let go of Viper's hair, slipped her right arm around his throat, and used her left to apply pressure. That barely slowed the Indian, but at least he did notice she had climbed on his back and he made a futile effort to pull her off with his left hand while he continued to beat Mark senseless with his right. He swore at her, but in his own tongue, so she understood only the outrage of his mood, not the meaning of his words. She wrapped both arms around his face then, succeeding in blinding him momentarily, and Maguire came to his senses long enough to fire into the air.

  "That's enough, chief," the sergeant shouted in the calm that followed the loud report of his rifle. "Back off. I reckon the captain will admit you won the fight if you give him the chance to speak up."

  Erica moved out of the way quickly, but when ViF>er turned toward her, his features were still contorted with fury. "You should have stayed out of it!" he scolded harshly. "He did not deserve your help."

  "I was trying to help you!" Erica shouted right back at the infuriated brave. "Did you think you could kill Mark in front of a dozen witnesses and live to tell about it?"

  The blackness of Viper's stare did not lighten, for he had not stopped to consider the consequences of his actions before he had taken them. "No man is going to kiss you in front of me and live to tell about it, either I" he screamed right back at her.

  Erica turned her back on the belligerent Indian, only to find the soldiers were enjoying their argument every bit as much as they had enjoyed the fistfight. "What are you staring at?" she snapped. When they began to chuckle amongst themselves, she finally remembered Mark, and looked down to find him staring up at her, too. There was a cut above his left eye, whicn was sending blood streaming down the side of his face. His nose was bleeding profusely, and there was blood trickling from the comer of his mouth.

  "You look like hell," she informed him peevishly, and disgusted with him, too, she walked over to the river and bent down to wash her face and hands. When Mark knelt at her side she ignored him, since she was thoroughly
ashamed to have offered herself to him to help an obstinate Indian who suddenly seemed to regard her as a px^ssession rather than as the one true love of his life. He was too proud for his own good, and she feared all his pride would buy him was a grave.

  Mark's whole body was wracked with pain, and he felt himself a great fool for ever having been so stupid as to have gotten into a fight with Viper in the first place. At least he had not lost any teeth, although a couple lelt loose. He splashed water on his face but succeeded only in transferring a shower of blood to his hands. "The man fights like a demon," he moaned through badly swollen lips. "How does he make love?"

  Erica's first impulse was to tell Mark it was none of his damn business, but she was too hurt and angry for such a show of restraint or tact. Instead, she lowered her voice to a honey-smooth whisper. "Like a god, Mark, like Eros himself. He could give you lessons in that, tool" With that insulting reply, she gave him a savage shove that sent him toppling into the river, where the blood from his battered face was completely washed away before he could find the strength to pull himself out on dry ground.

  ^cldie^, ^86^

  When they stopped to make camp that afternoon, Erica kneh beside the river and scrubbed the dirt from her blue dress. She hoped it would last another few days, even if the fabric of the once elegant gown had worn so thin it now resembled lace. She had had such a pretty wardrobe when she had come to Minnesota, but all her clothes had been lost in the fires that had consumed so many of the homes in New Ulm.

  At the memory of the unfortunate reunion with her relatives, the distraught girl's eyes filled with tears, for she knew the Ludwigs had suffered terribly, and she could not fault them for not understanding how she could have fallen in love with an Indian brave in the midst of an uprising that had cost them so dearly. Depressed by the fact that she would be unlikely ever to find anyone who would understand her love for Viper, or even be sympathetic to her feelings, she continued to sit by the river long after she had finished her laundry, hugging her knees and trying to ignore Bill Harding, the young trooper who, at Mark's insistence, had been closer than her shadow all afternoon. A talkative soul, he had kept up a steady stream of conversation as he rode alon^ beside her. Now that they had stopped for the night, he still seemed to think it his duty to keep her company.