Dakota came to his feet and moved out into the open. He was some thirty paces from Breanna, and he knew he could never cover that distance before his brother would make good his threat to end her life.
Dakota's eyes were on his wife as he spoke, pain tearing at his heart. "Leave her out of this, Black Otter. She has nothing to do with our feud."
Black Otter laughed maliciously. "Oh, no, my brother, I cannot do that. This woman will be the means of my revenge." To demonstrate his point, Black Otter ran the knife blade across Breanna's shoulder and sliced through the last remaining material that covered her breasts.
While Dakota watched helplessly, Black Otter ran the knife blade around Breanna's nipples, first one, then the other.
"This woman is beautiful for a white woman. I can only imagine how you must care for her. Shall I carve a scar on her, to match the one the bear gave you?"
"Black Otter," Dakota said, gnashing his teeth. "If you harm her, I will kill you!"
Black Otter's eyes gleamed with something akin to madness. "You are in no position to issue threats, Dakota. Throw the rifle down and toss your knife aside, or I will kill her now." As proof of his intentions, Black Otter's knife pierced Breanna's skin, slicing across her shoulder to the swell of her breast, while "her blood stained the tip of his blade.
Breanna groaned in pain and turned her face to Dakota. Although she could not understand Black Otter's words, she could tell by his tone of voice that he was goading Dakota.
"Don't let him degrade you because of me, Dakota," she pleaded, knowing what a proud man her husband was. "Do whatever you have to do. I . . . Am not afraid to die."
Dakota felt a sensation so unfamiliar to him that it took his breath away. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and his pride was great for this woman whom his grandfather had chosen to be his wife. He had always known she was extraordinary, but until now, he had not known how courageous she was.
"Do not despair, Breanna, for my love for you is great. If I cannot free you, then I will walk with your spirit this day," he promised her.
Dakota did not realize that he had spoken in Arapaho and Breanna had not understood his declaration of love.
"Very touching," Black Otter hissed. "But when I am finished with you both, there will be only enough left of you to scatter to the four winds."
"You may kill us, Black Otter, but in doing so, you go against our father's wishes and condemn yourself in a way that will one day destroy you."
"I do not have to listen to you, white man, because Two Moons was not your father, he was mine. The time for your walk in the spirit world is near, and I will never have to think of you again. Enough talk. Throw down your weapons, or I will slay your woman now!"
"No, do not touch her," Dakota said, tossing down his rifle and knife in defeat. Black Otter had found the only way in which he could hurt him —through Breanna. Too late, Dakota realized he had made a mistake in allowing Black Otter to see how much he cherished his wife.
Breanna moaned, knowing if she had not insisted on following Dakota to America, then he would not be burdened with her welfare and could have fought Black Otter on his own terms. Now he had no weapons to defend himself with and it was all her fault. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but the words stuck in her parched throat.
As she watched Dakota standing before his enemy, stripped of his pride and humbled because of her, she wished desperately that there was some way she could help him.
Breanna was confused when Black Otter sliced through her bonds, freeing her arms and legs. He roughly grabbed her about the waist and hauled her to her feet. Breanna felt like a rag doll with no substance, and she had to hold on to the Indian to stand upright.
Black Otter's laughter was ugly to her ears. "You are a fool, Dakota. Look behind you and you will see one of my warriors, who only waits for my command to kill you. I have you now, Dakota. You will never save this woman!"
Breanna saw the pain and indecision on Dakota's face, and she knew Black Otter was once again taunting him. In a haze of pain, she saw the other warrior with his rifle aimed at Dakota, and she knew her husband was facing impossible odds. "Do not allow Black Otter to . . . humble you because of me," she cried past the dryness in her mouth. "Do what you must."
"Do not talk, woman," Black Otter commanded, shaking Breanna as if she were indeed a rag doll.
Suddenly Dakota needed to know if Black Otter had ravished his wife. He would never be able to bear the pain if Breanna had been forced to suffer that degradation. "What have you done to her?" Dakota asked in a warning voice.
Black Otter's eyes gleamed. He was enjoying himself because he had Dakota where he had always wanted him. "I have done nothing to this woman . . . yet. But after you are dead," he shrugged, "who knows?" His eyes gleamed at the pain he saw on Dakota's face. "Of course, I may decide to be merciful and kill her first," he taunted, "so you can watch."
Black Otter was so caught up in toying with Dakota that he allowed his eyes to rake the half-naked white woman. That was when Dakota saw the knife which Black Otter held at Breanna's throat waver, and he knew now was the time to charge his enemy.
Leaping through the air, Dakota felt a hot burning in his shoulder, and he realized that he had been shot by Black Otter's warrior. But that did not stop him or slow him down as, maddened with anger, he caught Black Otter off guard, knocking both him and Breanna to the ground.
Breanna rolled down the incline and landed with a thud at the bottom, while Dakota and Black Otter were caught in a death struggle.
The two men fought for possession of Black Otter's knife. Both men were straining, their muscles tense and trembling as the knife blade moved from Dakota's throat, back to Black Otter's throat —wavering, varying, changing directions several times.
Dakota knew the helplessness of his situation. Even if he should overcome Black Otter, there would still be the other Indian to deal with, and his strength was waning fast. What would become of Breanna should he die?
He had overestimated Black Otter's bravery. He should have known his brother would not stand alone, for he was too much of a coward.
Dakota had gained the advantage, and he now rolled Black Otter over and straddled him. With a strength that came from his love for Breanna, he grabbed his brother's wrist, wrenching the knife from his grasp.
As Black Otter's eyes widened in fright, Dakota's finger's tightened around the hilt. "Now you die, Black Otter. May you walk in darkness this night, for your treacherous soul is not worthy to walk in sunlight."
"Kill him!" Black Otter called out to his companion. "Do it now!"
"Your friend can't help you, Black Otter, he's otherwise engaged." Levi's welcome voice spoke up from behind them. "Do what you have to, Dakota, me and John have this buck under our aim."
Dakota shook his head to fight off the dizziness that came from his loss of blood. Breathing a sigh of relief because Levi was there to take care of Breanna, he felt renewed strength.
Dakota's hand tightened on the knife. "There is no help for you, Black Otter," he hissed. "Now you are at my mercy."
"Kill me then," Black Otter spat. "If you have forgotten what our father asked of you, take my life and let my blood stain your hands."
Dakota hesitated. He had every reason to kill Black Otter, but why was it so difficult to drive the knife into his treacherous heart? Black Otter's hands had been stained with the blood of hundreds of victims, why could Dakota not end his life?
Dakota yelled out in his frustration, burying the knife in the ground only inches from Black Otter's head. "You deserve to die, but I cannot be the one to take your life."
Dakota stood up and staggered backward. "I cannot go against my father's wishes. I will take you to the village and let the Arapaho decide your punishment."
No one saw Black Otter until it was too late. He grabbed the knife from where Dakota had left it and leaped agilely to his feet. Taking aim, his eyes gleamed as he visualized Dakota's death.
Dakota
turned, knowing he was helpless to prevent his brother from throwing the knife. He waited for the impact, but heard instead the sound of a rifle.
No one had seen Breanna crawl up the slope or take the rifle Dakota had thrown down earlier. There was not time to take aim, so she pointed the gun at Black Otter and squeezed the trigger.
Dakota saw the confused look on Black Otter's face and the red stain on his chest.
Slowly, Black Otter crumpled to the ground, his eyes begging for an explanation—it wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was not the one who should die.
Dakota turned to see Breanna throw the rifle to the ground. "I am not sorry that I killed him," she said, falling to her knees. "I would do it again, if . . ." Weakness overcame her, and she fell forward, lost in the oblivion of darkness.
Dakota rushed to Breanna, gathering the most precious person in his life up in his arms.
John came forward, removing his coat and handing it to Dakota so he could cover Breanna's nakedness. "Allow me to carry her for you," he offered, knowing Dakota was weak from loss of blood and was swaying on his feet unsteadily.
"No," Dakota growled, his eyes daring anyone to try to take her from him. "I will carry my wife to the Arapaho village, where the medicine woman will tend her wounds."
Dakota did not look at Black Otter's dead body as he carried Breanna toward the Wind River.
When John would have followed him, Levi's words stopped him. "Leave him be. What he does now, he does without our help. He will find a warm welcome waiting for him in the Arapaho village, with those who care about him."
"But they both need attention, Levi" John protested.
"Nothing happens here that the Arapaho don't know about. They will get all the help they need in the village. I'm sure word has already spread that Black Otter is dead. There will be a cry of welcome for Dakota and Breanna when they arrive."
35
Night was stirring as Breanna awakened. At first she was oblivious to her surroundings because all she could think about was the pain that covered every inch of her body, making her feel as though she were on fire.
Gentle hands were rubbing soothing, cool liquid on Breanna's face. In her hazy state of mind, Breanna was able to make out dark Indian eyes — but they were not hostile as Black Otter's had been, they were kind and concerned.
The old medicine woman had stripped Breanna's remaining clothing away, and was now applying a healing mixture to her entire body. When that was accomplished, the woman placed damp cloths across Breanna.
The medicine woman turned at last to Dakota. "I have done all I can for your wife. She will need to be kept in the dark until the sun goes around twice, then I believe she will begin to heal."
"Will she fully recover, Cloud Woman?"
"Yes, her wounds are not so serious as that bullet you have in your back."
"Will there be scarring?" Dakota wanted to know, unconcerned with his own wound.
"No. I do not think so. The mixture of herbs I used on her should prevent any scarring. Of course, I believe there will be a slight scar where Black Otter cut her with his knife. Knowing that devil, I would say she is fortunate to be alive. Now all I can do for her is keep the cloths damp and give her plenty to drink."
The old woman looked at Dakota, who had refused to have his wounds treated until Breanna ^ had been taken care of. "Now that I have seen to your woman's needs, I will remove that bullet from you."
Dakota knelt down beside Breanna, his anger still burning for what Black Otter had done to her. Taking her limp hand in his, he ached because of the pain she was going through. "You saved my life, beloved Breanna, proving you are brave and strong. You will heal, and soon your spirit will soar with mine through the clouds and we shall love one another forever."
Breanna moaned, unaware that her husband had again declared his love for her, because again he had spoken to her in the Arapaho language.
"I will no longer wait to take that bullet out, Dakota, while you make pretty speeches to your woman," Cloud Woman informed him. "I will do it now."
Dakota leaned back on the buffalo robe, too weak to protest any longer. He knew he had lost a lot of blood and that the bullet was very deeply imbedded.
***
Breanna huddled near the cook-fire. She smiled at the old medicine woman who had been tending her for the last week. Already the places where Breanna's skin had been sunburned had healed, and the only signs of her ordeal were a slight scar from the knife wound and a golden tint to her skin.
Since the medicine woman did not speak English, she and Breanna communicated through gestures.
Breanna felt uncomfortable dressed in the buckskin gown that fell to her ankles.
Dakota had been in to see her several times, but as her strength returned, he seemed to become more silent, and she began to feel he resented her because she had taken the life of his Indian brother.
The tepee flap was pushed aside, when Dakota entered. Breanna pulled the soft fur robe about her, feeling uncomfortable under Dakota's intense scrutiny.
The medicine woman gave Breanna a toothy grin and ambled out of the tepee, leaving Dakota and Breanna alone.
Dakota wore buckskins, and Breanna noticed for the first time that he was allowing his hair to grow longer. She wondered if that was a sign that he intended to remain in America.
There was an uncomfortable silence before Breanna was courageous enough to speak. "Does your wound still pain you, Dakota?" she inquired.
"No, it is all but healed." His eyes swept her face. "I am told that you are recovered sufficiently to make the journey back to England." He dropped a bundle of clothing down beside her. "Levi, John, and Baxley arrived this morning. Baxley sent you some of your clothing; the rest are on the pack-horse. You will go with them when they leave this afternoon."
Her heart stopped beating. "You will not be coming with us?"
Regretfully, he shook his head. "I cannot leave at this time. Black Otter did much damage to the Arapaho, and I must see that the army understands that my brother's raids in no way involved this village"
She wanted him to take her in his arms, to assure her that he would come to her in England. Breanna knew him well enough by now to realize that he would not leave while the Arapaho needed him. Now that she had been in this village and seen the love and respect the people directed at Dakota, she could better understand his feelings for them.
She wondered if these were to be their final moments together—if indeed she was looking upon his face for the last time. "Will you ever return to England?" she asked at last, fearing to hear the truth.
"I would like to tell you yes, but there is still much for me to do here. I have it within my power to make life easier for my people, and I intend to see that they have everything they need."
Breanna realized that nothing she could say would change his mind. "I have been wondering about your friend, Shadow Walker, who was injured the night Black Otter abducted me. Is he recovered? Did John or Levi tell you his condition?"
"Shadow Walker's injuries were serious, but he is recovering at Murphy's Trading Post. He will be well enough to return to the village in a few days."
"Dakota, I have something to say to you. I have the feeling the death of Black Otter stands between the two of us. I have to be honest with you, if the circumstances were the same, I would do it again. You have never said so, but I have to know if you blame me for his death."
Dakota sat down beside her, wanting and needing to touch her, to crush her in his arms, but if he did that, he would weaken and never allow her to leave. This time, he had to consider Breanna's safety above his own needs.
"Breanna, what you did was the bravest, noblest act I have ever seen, and you saved my life. It was strange, but at the moment I could have taken Black Otter's life, I found the promise I made my father stayed my hand."
Her golden eyes became misty. "I am glad you did not have to kill him, because I know now that you could never have lived with the guilt of a p
romise broken. Strangely enough, I feel no guilt at all for what I was forced to do."
He smiled and touched her cheek tenderly. "When one is brave, there need be no guilt."
Pushing his love for her to the back of his mind, he hardened his heart. With lowered lashes concealing the love that shone in his green eyes, he stood up and helped her to her feet. "I will leave you to dress. When you are ready, I will send Levi for you." He glanced at the buckskin gown she wore. "You were not meant to wear rough leather clothing against your soft body. You should wear only silks and satins."
"What you are saying is that I do not belong here with you."
"I am saying you belong in England."
Breanna's eyes traveled over his tall form. He looked so at ease dressed as an Indian. "I cannot say the same about you. I can see now that you have a life here, Dakota. You talk about staying to help the Arapaho; is it not possible that this is where you want to be?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do you feel you belong here?"
"This is where I was born and grew to manhood. A part of me will always feel at home here."
Breanna had the unsettling feeling that she might never see him again. This Dakota was a man she did not know. He was an Indian, and she could feel him slipping away from her. Did this land, this people, have a prior claim on him? Would she have the courage to leave him when the time came?
Breanna had too much pride to make a scene. If she never saw Dakota again, she wanted him to remember her leaving with dignity and not hanging on him, begging him to keep her with him.
"I will dress now," she said in a resigned voice, turning away and dismissing him. "I will send word when I am ready to leave."
Dakota could feel Breanna's coldness in the depths of his heart. It appeared to him that she could not leave fast enough to suit her.
"Breanna, it has to be this way. Winter is coming on, and I fear you would not survive the cruel winters of this land. Always in the back of my mind lurks the vision of how my white mother died. I do not want this to happen to you."
Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) Page 33