Surrender to Love

by Julia Templeton

  Icy contempt flashed in his eyes before he turned to his mount that stood nearby. "Please leave," she whispered under her breath, watching and waiting as he walked to his horse. Go! Leave us alone! She yearned to scream the words, but instead stood silently, waiting. Then to her dismay, he turned and headed back toward them, a length of rawhide in his hand. Jordan's eyes widened in alarm as his intention became clear.

  "Jordan?" Kari's voice was full of fear. "You don't think that he will--"

  "Run!" Jordan yelled, bolting toward her horse as though the devil himself was after them. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear nothing over it. Grabbing the pommel with both hands, she swung herself onto the horses back--only to be yanked off a second later.

  Turning, she met the Indian's cold gray stare.

  "Listen. We did not kill these people! We are innocent, do you hear me? We haven't done anything!" she screamed.

  Ignoring her plea, he grabbed her hands roughly. She tried to pull free of his grasp, but his fingers were like steel bands. Fear overriding reason, Jordan kicked him in the shin. He only winced before tightening his hold and binding her wrists with the end of the rawhide. The leather bit into her skin as she twisted her hands in an attempt to loosen the rough binding.

  Kari's ear-piercing scream startled Jordan, but the Indian ignored her and continued wrapping her wrists with the tough leather. Letting out some slack, he leaped on his horse with an ease Jordan had never seen, and some other time may have appreciated. But now she wanted nothing more than to stick a knife between those broad shoulders.

  Kari's large blue eyes were wide with shock. Her mouth was open as she gazed down at her bound wrists, then back to the Indian. Jordan knew that look well--panic. Kari in a panic was not a pretty sight, and could very well prove to be disastrous for them. "Kari, everything is going to be just fine. There are two of us and only one of him. Besides, someone may come by--"

  "Jordan, we are tied to one, if not the strongest Indian God ever made. If that's not enough, look around you. There is nothing for miles. We have not seen another human being for days now, except for the ones who are dead!" Kari's voice grew higher with every syllable.

  "Kari, now is not the time to get hysterical."

  "Would you like to tell me when the appropriate time might be? Maybe when he ties us to a stake and burns us alive? Or maybe when his entire village rapes us? Or maybe he will--"

  They were jerked forward, ending further argument. Jordan couldn't blame Kari for her anger, especially when minutes ago they were free and within days of her ranch. Now they were captives of an Indian, their fate unknown. She heard the stories of Indian captives, and knew they would be lucky to see the sun rise.

  Her gaze returned to the Indian's back where strong muscle rippled beneath the taut dark skin of his broad shoulders. Knowing they needed a way out of this predicament, Jordan tried to think of some way to create a diversion and only one came to mind.

  In stubborn desperation she stopped in mid-stride. The rope quickly tightened and she was jerked roughly to the ground. She heard Kari cry out. For what seemed an eternity, she was dragged over rock and across hard-packed ground. Dirt and grit filled her mouth, the rope rubbed her wrists raw, and her shoulders felt as though they were being ripped from the sockets. She nearly cried out in pain, but was saved from doing so when he finally stopped.

  The next few minutes would seal their fate. She knew she had to plan her actions carefully so he wouldn't suspect her motives.

  Eyes closed, keeping her breath shallow and even, she waited, listening as he slid from his horse and came toward her. A few moments later, the heat from his body told her he was right beside her. He pushed her onto her back, then a strong, calloused hand rested on her forehead as he raised her eyelid. For that split second she could swear she read concern in his eyes. Her chance came when he glanced over his shoulder at Kari.

  Fear overriding reason, Jordan struck out. A well-aimed foot hit its mark and he fell to the ground in a heap, his hands instinctively clutching his groin.

  Gray eyes flashed with rage and pain when he looked at her. But to her dismay, he slowly came to his feet, towering over her, his expression lethal. For a horrible instant Jordan was sure she was staring death in the face. Then she saw Kari standing behind him with a rock raised in her hand. Horror quickly turned to relief as a sickening thud sounded. A breath-stopping second passed before the Indian's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground at Jordan's feet.

  JORDAN SAT at the base of a tree, exhausted, but unable to sleep, knowing that one angry Indian was out there somewhere. Kari sat beside her, looking like a terrified child as she stared into the darkness. As a lonely howl pierced the night, Jordan wondered if the full moon was a godsend or a curse.

  Kari jumped at the sound, her hand lying flat over her heart. "Do you think he's all right? I mean, you don't think I killed him, do you?" she asked, biting her bottom lip nervously.

  "Of course not. He's a big man. You probably just stunned him, that's all." Jordan hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Kari had hit him hard, and head injuries could be serious, even fatal.

  Since escaping the Indian hours ago, Jordan had been wondering where he was. Dead or alive, either way she and Kari were in a perilous situation. If he were alive, he would hunt them down and probably recapture them, maybe even kill them. And if he were already dead, his tribe would no doubt track them and kill them...slowly. Horrible visions raced through her mind and she shook her head to dispel them.

  "It will do us no good to sit here and fret about it. Let's get going. The more space we can put between us and him, the better off we'll be." Jordan stood, stretched, then stopped, having seen a flash of movement from the corner of her eye. By the time she glanced over at her cousin, the half-breed had one arm around Kari's waist, the other clamped tightly over her mouth. "Let her--" Jordan was instantly silenced by his dark, angry expression.

  Kari's gaze slipped to Jordan's waist, reminding her she had a gun tucked into the band of her breeches. Her heart beat triple time. Jordan didn't dare flinch, waiting for the Indian to make his move.

  She didn't have long to wait as a few moments later, he started to bind Kari's wrists together. Knowing she may never have another opportunity, Jordan pulled the gun out and aimed it at his head. He was less than five feet away, point blank range, and she knew the damage it would do. He would die--they wouldn't.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. His hand flashed and in the blink of an eye, he held a knife at Kari's throat. Staring into his eyes, Jordan knew he had no intention of letting her win. Dropping the gun, she held her hands up in defeat.

  "Do you have to bind us?" she asked, as he stepped toward her with rawhide in hand. She struck out at him, clipping his jaw with her fist. Her hand ached horribly, but his head barely moved at the contact, and if anything, it only served to fuel his anger. As he reached for her, she kicked him in the shin while landing a punch to his rock-hard stomach. Unfortunately, both tactics failed to stop him. He grabbed her wrists and tied them even tighter than before, his gray eyes flat and as unreadable as stone.

  Releasing a short expanse of rope, he helped Kari onto the back of his mount, then quickly jumped on, leaving Jordan to walk behind them.

  GRAY HAWK stared straight ahead, ignoring the redhead's curses as she tripped along behind them. The blonde woman sat silently before him, her back straight as an arrow, making every effort not to touch him. He glanced at the two horses, and again wondered why two women dressed in worn-out men's clothes would have such fine looking mounts. Unless they stole them, which from what little he knew of them, was probably the case.

  When he'd come upon his aunt and her friend's bodies, Gray Hawk had been ready to kill the two at the scene, no questions asked. But that was before he'd seen the Crow's arrows.

  He had masked his surprise when the two white women turned, proving they were not men at all, but young women. Their looks of horror confirmed
they were shocked to see him as well.

  His aunt had been a woman full of life and laughter. She was a valued member of their tribe, and now she was dead. He clenched his jaw. Death was becoming too much a way of life for so many who had been too young to die. Although he never agreed with the custom of taking white captives, he did now to replace the loss of the two who had been slain.

  "What do you plan to do with us?" the red-haired hellion yelled at his back. "Do you hear me?"

  A person would have to be deaf not to hear her. He glanced back at his captive, whose jaw was set in a rigid line, her green eyes shooting sparks of hatred. Although he'd known few white women in his life, he knew from the start how strong-willed this one was, and how very determined. She had very nearly escaped him twice. Had he not pulled the knife when he did, he would have been dead by now. He couldn't blame her for trying to escape--he would do the same if he were in her place.

  He only hoped that once they reached the village, she would accept her fate. If she didn't, the consequences would be far worse.

  Chapter 3

  JORDAN COULDN'T remember a time she'd been so miserable. Her hair kept falling in her eyes, dirt clogged her nose and throat, and her feet were raw, bloodied and bruised. She'd give anything to stop, if even for a minute. Unfortunately for her, their captor seemed adamant on continuing at a grueling pace.

  What was even more maddening was the fact he'd brought their horses along, but refused to let her mount up. No, instead he made her walk behind him the entire way, letting Kari ride in front of him, as though she hadn't been the one to knock him out in the first place. But what did she expect from a savage? A savage who was determined to torture them for murders they didn't commit.

  Keeping her eyes on the ground, she tried to ignore her raw wrists that burned with every tug of the rawhide. Putting her physical distress aside, she instead focused on a new plan of escape, hoping time would allow another attempt.

  But time proved to be her enemy rather than her friend a short while later when she heard the unmistakable sound of laughter. Her head jerked up and to her horror, she saw a group of dark-haired children running toward her. Her gaze darted around the valley to find at least six dozen teepees perched along the edge of a river, and Indians rushing her from all directions.

  As tiny hands reached out and tugged on her hair and clothing, she tried to pull away, but they were insistent. "Stop it!" she screamed, but they seemed oblivious to her distress, and just kept poking and pulling. She was on the verge of hysterics when a sharp whistle rent the air, sending little brown bodies scurrying.

  Blowing the hair out of her eyes, Jordan found their captor and Kari walking toward her. Her heart stilled when the half-breed pulled a knife from its sheath. He stopped before her. His light eyes seemed to pierce to the very depths of her soul, unnerving her. The temptation to turn away from that gaze was overwhelming. She was terrified, but she'd be damned if she'd allow him to see her fear.

  He turned toward the group of children that mingled close by. He spoke in a rough, guttural language, and the children quickly scattered.

  She glanced at Kari, who was obviously thinking the same thing by her confused expression...the half-breed didn't speak English. That knowledge gave her courage to tell him exactly what she felt and before Jordan could stop herself, she said in a harsh voice, "If you think for one minute mister, that we're going to be your squaws, then think again. I have no intention of living the rest of my days as some Indian's slave." Her gaze drifted to his weapon for an instant before returning again to meet his lethal stare. "When you least expect it, I'll take that knife you wear so proudly and stick it in your black heart."

  Gray eyes clashed with green in silent battle, until a dangerous smile touched his lips. In one quick motion he cut the binds from Kari's wrists, then pulled Jordan so close his hot breath fanned her cheek. "Don't count on it," he said in perfect English. His voice, low and menacing, gave her little doubt he meant it. She let out the breath she'd been holding as he sheathed the knife.

  Kari wavered on her feet. Gray Hawk abruptly released Jordan, grabbing her cousin before she fainted. With gentle hands he steadied her, then turned to Jordan with a scowl. "Be silent and follow me."

  Her shoulders stiffened, her eyes narrowed. Never had she hated anyone the way she hated this man. Keeping her gaze on the ground, Jordan muttered obscenities under her breath, trying to ignore the crowd that stood waiting, which was impossible, their chanting and laughter was a roar that filled her ears. "Good-for-nothing son of a--"

  The Indian stopped abruptly in mid-step. A second later she ran into his hard back that was more like a brick wall than flesh and blood.

  He turned with a venomous glare. "Watch your tongue, or I'll cut it out."

  She swallowed her retort and clamped her lips tight, her gaze riveted on his hand that was resting on the hilt of his knife.

  As they made their way through the village, Jordan squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Men, women and children stared at her and Kari with open curiosity. Some appeared angry, some confused, while others looked mildly amused, even laughing as they passed...all except one woman who caught Jordan's eye. Tall and slender, with black silky hair that fell to her slender waist, the woman's doe-like brown eyes were shooting sparks of hatred and jealousy as they approached the camp.

  With a hair-raising cry the beautiful woman flew toward Jordan, sending her to the ground with a thud. Taken off guard, she struggled to protect herself, but her bound hands made defense useless. Long, slender fingers tightened around her throat, cutting off her air. Through blurred vision, she saw Kari come to her rescue and try to push the woman off, but the squaw only squeezed tighter until stars began to float through the darkness that was quickly descending upon her.

  Her lungs were on fire and ready to explode when the weight on her chest was suddenly gone. Gasping for air, she looked up to find her captor standing above her. Even through the haze she could see he was not pleased.

  Turning to the Indian woman, he spoke to her in his unfamiliar tongue, quick, slashing words that made the woman lower her head and walk away.

  Jordan sat up, rubbing her bruised throat. Hauled roughly to her feet to meet her captor's searing gaze, she asked in a choked voice, "One of your wives?"

  He remained silent as he cut her binds and pushed her and Kari toward a nearby teepee. The flap closed abruptly leaving she and Kari alone with a simple warning. "You leave, you die."

  "God, why us?" came the muffled question.

  Jordan turned to Kari who lay flat on her stomach, face down on a fur blanket.

  "I have no idea. But I do know one thing...it won't be for long," Jordan replied, taking a quick look around the dwelling. It was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside. The floors were covered with furs, and in the center was a fire pit.

  Kari sat up slowly. "Jordan, I'm scared. What if they...?" She let the question die as she choked on a sob.

  A pang of guilt hit Jordan as she looked at her cousin. Kari's fragile wrists were raw from the bindings that cut into her tender flesh. Her blonde hair had long since come free of its braid and now hung past her shoulders in tangled disarray. Dirt smudges covered her face and arms. Jordan cursed herself again knowing it was her fault they were here. How many times since leaving Virginia had they been warned of the dangers in crossing Indian Territory? Early in their journey, she dismissed the notion that they would actually run into trouble, convincing herself that eleven years would have made a difference between white settlers and Indians. Apparently she'd been wrong. She was so intent on reaching her ranch, she had put their lives in jeopardy by trying to save some time and take a short cut.

  Her thoughts scattered as sunlight streamed into the dim interior of the teepee and their captor entered, stopping to secure the flap behind him. Jordan tensed, her eyes moving to a wooden bowl that was more than three feet out of reach, then back to the silent man. If he tried anything, she could use the b
owl to clobber him over the head.

  Without acknowledging their presence, he lay down on the furs and closed his eyes. Jordan frowned. He was sleeping? With a start, she realized this could prove a good opportunity, or perhaps their only opportunity to escape.

  As Kari watched him with a puzzled expression, Jordan knew if they could just wait for him to go to sleep, they could make their move. Crossing her arms over her knees, she stared at the man who lay on his back with one hand on his stomach, the other flung out to his side. As he lay motionless Jordan's gaze ran down the length of him. He was an impressive man; tall, lean, and muscular. The features of his face were so perfect they may as well be chiseled in stone, from high cheekbones, straight nose, and full lips, down to his long lashes. Her gaze shifted lower to his neck and the white line that ran up under his chin, as though someone had tried to slice his neck in one clean stroke, but failed. His vest had fallen open, exposing a chest that was broad and smooth. Two scars marred the surface, but unlike the one on his throat, these were precise marks, as though they'd been put there on purpose. A shiver ran down her spine, not only from knowing he was a dangerous man, but because she felt an attraction toward him--an awareness she'd never felt with anyone else.

  She closed her eyes as though she could wish the thought away and him with it. Yet when she opened her eyes a second later, the half-breed was still there, reinforcing her desire to leave.

  Within minutes his breathing slowed, becoming deep and even. Each breath became a number as she counted every time his chest rose.

  From what little she recalled, Jordan knew the teepee lay on the outer edge of the village, which helped their chances of slipping out unnoticed and making a run for it. But what about their heavily guarded horses? She agonized over leaving Winnebe, but there was no way around it...they would have to take their chances on foot.