Half-Breed's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  "Glynna doesn't know any of this?"

  "No!" Mimi was horrified that he would even suspect such a thing. "I've always protected her. I've kept her shielded from any shame or taint on her name. To all the world, she is, and always will be, Charles Williams's daughter."

  The thought that his own daughter bore another man's name hurt Paul deeply, but he knew he had no one to blame but himself "It must have been terrible for you, having to give her up."

  She still remembered every detail of the day when she'd held her daughter for the first time, only to have the newborn whisked away from her and handed over to Victoria. "I could have stayed in Europe and raised her by myself, but I didn't want to do that to Glynna. I wanted her to have a real family. I wanted her to grow up surrounded by love. I didn't want her to be ashamed of her mother of me and Victoria was a wonderful mother to her." Again her tears fell.

  "Mary Catherine," he began slowly, humbly, "you are so special. I don't know how to tell you what you've always meant to me"

  "Don't." She tried to silence him. Her tone was as harsh as she could make it.

  "No." Paul had waited too long. He would not be silenced. "I've listened to you. Now you must listen to me."

  She closed her eyes and drew a ragged breath.

  "Look at me," he insisted, knowing this was painful for both of them. When she opened her eyes and her gaze met his, he began. "I was in love with you long before you married James." He saw the surprise in her regard, and rushed on. "What you don't know is why I left you that day in San Francisco. Didn't you ever wonder why I was gambling and drinking so much when you found me in California? I rarely drank back East. I led a quiet life there, loving you from afar. When you married James, my dreams for the future were shattered. I was furious and I was jealous, yet it didn't matter. There was nothing I could do-you loved him."

  Mimi had been greatly weakened by the effort to tell him her truth. His fervor in revealing his story, however, gave her a new desire to fight the overwhelming pain of her wound and to hang on to consciousness and listen.

  He continued, "The day James was killed at the picnic, I'd been drinking heavily. It was the first time I'd seen you since you'd married, and I was enraged at how happy the two of you were. I challenged James to the horse race, knowing my horse could easily beat his. I goaded him into it. I wanted to prove to you that I was the better man. I wanted to get your attention some way." He glanced away from her, the pain of that day returning full force. "I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at James. I wanted you to see me as a man, and not merely as a friend."

  "Oh, Paul." She sighed, remembering.

  "When the accident happened, I was already ahead of him, riding for the finish line. I could see you. You were standing up, waving. You looked so excited and happy. I told myself that I was going to remember that look on your face forever-and then suddenly you were screaming. Your expression was horrified, and you were running past me. You didn't even see me. I turned and looked back, and I realized then what had happened. I followed you, and you were holding James, but he was already dead. After the funeral, I left New York. I've never been back. I started drinking and gambling. I didn't care if I lived or died, and then you found me in San Francisco. You came to me! I thought you were a godsend. I had never known love could be so sweet. I loved you, Mary Catherine, more than life itself, but I couldn't stay with you, knowing I was responsible for James's death-knowing I'd killed the man you loved, and caused you all that pain. The guilt was overwhelming. What right did I have to enjoy your love? What right did I have to any happiness? James was dead, and it was my fault."

  "No." She was shocked by his revelation.

  "Each day we were together, my love for you grew, yet I knew I didn't deserve you. I couldn't face what I had done to you. I couldn't bear it, so I ran from you. That's why I left in the middle of the night. I knew I could never face you with the truth. And now, to discover that I abandoned you when you needed me most when you were pregnant with my child..." He shook his head in abject misery.

  "Paul." Mimi's heart ached for him. She had never guessed he'd carried such torment with him all these years. "Paul, you're wrong so wrong about all of this."

  "No," he denied. "I should never have forced James into that race."

  "You didn't force him or goad him into it. James wanted to race you. He'd been talking about your horse for weeks and bragging about how he wanted the chance to prove it wasn't as fast as you thought it was. The very morning of the picnic, he told me that if he got the opportunity, he was going to race you."

  Paul was stunned. "I thought I"

  "No," Mimi said gently. "It was a terrible accident. It was not your fault. You had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. James raced you because he wanted to.

  All the years of believing himself responsible for James's death had taken their toll on Paul. He sat there, his thoughts in chaos, trying to make sense of his life. "But I hurt you."

  "Paul." Mimi said his name in a soft whisper. "I never held you responsible for his death never. I loved you. You're the father of my child."

  He looked up from the depths of his despair. Mary Catherine had just said that she'd loved him. Was it possible that she still did? Was there any way he could make up to her all the sorrow he'd caused in her life? "I love you, Mary Catherine. I always have and I always will."

  She managed a faint smile at his declaration, but her thoughts were on Glynna. "Find our daughter, Paul. Please find her."

  Paul leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. In the midst of their tragedy, a light had shone upon him. He was torn, not knowing the best thing to do whether he should stay there and keep watch over Mary Catherine until he knew she was going to fully recover, or whether he should get as many men together as possible and go after the renegades who'd taken Glynna.

  Glynna was his daughter.

  The truth was mind-boggling. His first impression of her had been right. Glynna was Mary Catherine's child. And she was his, too.

  A fierce desire filled Paul, unlike anything he'd ever known before. The renegades had tried to destroy everything that was important in his life. They'd tried to kill Mary Catherine and had taken Glynna hostage. His thoughts right then were not those of a man of God. His thoughts were those of a man who wanted justice. Grim determination filled him. He was going to see the renegades pay for their murderous ways.

  Glynna was trying to stay out of everyone's way. The less anyone noticed her, the better. She was hoping that when the time came and she finally got the chance to run away, she'd be able to sneak off and get a head start without anyone missing her right away. So far, though, she'd had little luck escaping Painted Horse's watchful eye. It seemed he was everywhere, always watching, always alert to her movements.

  Painted Horse kept her busy doing menial tasks. She was going down to the stream again now, to fetch more water for him. She didn't mind the work, but as the daylight hours passed and night drew near, a different fear overtook her. They had ridden so hard and so fast on the trail that she hadn't had time to think of anything but keeping up. Now it was growing dark, and Glynna found herself dreading the night to come. She would be sleeping in Painted Horse's tepee, and for the first time she would be alone with him.

  Terror seized her soul. The night loomed threateningly before her. She had no weapon and no way to defend herself if he did attempt to attack her.

  Glynna swallowed tightly. All her life she had dreamed of a wedding night filled with love and romance. She'd dreamed of a handsome man sweeping her off her feet and carrying her away. She had saved herself for that moment, wanting to give herself freely in the bonds of marriage to her husband. Now her dreams were about to be destroyed.

  Glynna prayed for the strength to endure whatever fate was to befall her. She prayed desperately for rescue, for someone to save her from what she was sure was the horror to come at Painted Horse's hands.

  Glynna thought of Edmund and tried to imagine him coming t
o her rescue. Somehow she found it impossible to picture him fighting off the renegades to save her honor. He was a gentleman. He was kind and thoughtful, but there was no way he could rescue her from this.

  Hunt seared her thoughts just then, and she knew if anyone could save her it would be he. He was strong and fierce, and the type of man who would let nothing stop him from getting what he wanted. She wondered vaguely if he wanted her, and the memory of his kiss and embrace returned, sending a shaft of heat through her. She had never known such an irresistible attraction to a man before. She wondered if that was what love really was.

  Love Hunt?

  The very idea shocked her. Did she love Hunt? How could she, when she barely knew him? Not that she wouldn't have liked to know him better, but it was obvious that he would let no one close to him except his father.

  Glynna sighed, pushing the thought from her. What did it matter? By morning she would have to face a new reality. That reality frightened her, so she lingered on the banks of the stream as long as she could. She dreaded returning to the tepee.

  Finally, knowing she could stay there no longer, Glynna filled the water container and started back to where Painted Horse waited for her. As she passed by a clump of bushes, she was lost so deep in thought that she was completely unprepared for Crouching Wolf's sudden appearance before her. He blocked her path, and she looked up at him, startled.

  Crouching Wolf was a big man, a very meanlooking man. The wound where she'd hit him with the paint box was an ugly, red slash above his eye, and his black-eyed gaze glittered dangerously as he glared down at her. His mouth had a cruel twist to it that sent a shiver down Glynna's spine.

  "It is good that you fear me, Vision Woman," Crouching Wolf told her in English.

  "I'm not afraid of you!" She tried to be brave, hoping he wouldn't dare hurt her since they were so close to the village. She suddenly wondered if Painted Horse was near enough to see them together.

  "You should be." His smile was cold. "You are mine, you know."

  "No, I'm not!" she countered.

  "In the raid, you were mine first. When I take you from Painted Horse, there will be no escape for you. No one does what you did to me and gets away with it." His words were a very real threat.

  "I'm just sorry I didn't hit you harder!" She was angry at his intimidation.

  "You will never get another chance. I will teach you how to be a good woman. You will learn manylessons at my hands." He was concentrating on her so completely that he didn't notice Painted Horse coming up behind him.

  "Vision Woman will never be yours, Crouching Wolf," Painted Horse announced loudly, drawing the attention of the others nearby. "She is mine, and mine alone."

  "By all rights, she should be my captive!" Crouching Wolf snarled.

  "Do not push me. The woman is lost to you," Painted Horse responded. He had been right to be suspicious of Crouching Wolf, and he was glad that he'd kept a careful watch over Glynna.

  A murmur went through the the group listening to their conversation. They thought Painted Horse might fight Crouching Wolf for daring to try to claim what was rightfully his-the white woman.

  "You have been my friend for m&ny years. I do not want to fight you over the woman, but know when I tell you this that it is so. She belongs only to me."

  "You are a fool, Painted Horse! Coyote Man is dead because of your vision and this woman! You say because of her, you will claim a fine horse, but I have offered you many horses and you have refused them."

  "It is my right to accept or refuse offers." Painted Horse stared at the other warrior in disgust. "I am tired of your arguing. It is ended here, now. Do not speak to me of this again."

  Crouching Wolf was furious. Painted Horse had humiliated him before everyone, but the time would come when he would get even. He stalked away, all the while planning what he would do next.

  Painted Horse turned to look for Glynna, wanting to make sure she was unhurt. He did not see her.

  "Where is Vision Woman?" he demanded.

  No one knew where she'd gone.

  "We must find her!"

  Painted Horse immediately went for his mount. Eagle Claw and Tall Grass ran with him. They began to search for the missing captive. Even though darkness claimed the land, it did not take Painted Horse long to find her tracks. Trailing her, within minutes he found her running along the edge of the stream.

  Glynna had thought she could get away. She had thought the fight between the two men would keep them busy for a while, and she would have the time she needed to escape. But when she heard the sound of the horse coming up behind her after only a few short moments of freedom, she knew she'd been wrong.

  Glynna feared it was Crouching Wolf coming after her. She ran harder, but it was no use. Painted Horse urged his horse forward and circled before her, blocking her from going any farther. She stopped and looked up at him, trembling from terror and exhaustion. She expected him to be angry with her for running. She was surprised when he drew near enough for her to see that the look on his face was almost one of relief.

  "We will return to the village," he ordered.

  Glynna expected him to pick her up and carry her back with him. Painted Horse made no effort to carry her back, though. He stayed on his mount and waited for her to walk past him; then he herded her quietly along.

  With as much dignity as she could muster, she headed back the way she'd come. She felt as if she were walking to her doom. It was the longest walk of her life. She had almost been free!

  Again she faced the horror of the night to come. There was no way out. She was Painted Horse's captive.

  When they reached the village again, Painted Horse ordered her to the tepee while he went to see to his horse. He was worried about Crouching Wolf, but knew there was little he could do until the man revealed himself. He started back to the tepee, pondering what to do to keep Vision Woman safe. Crouching Wolf wanted her, and it was up to him to protect her until the hunter came.

  Painted Horse's mood was black when he returned to find Glynna huddled on the opposite side of the tepee. He could see the terror in her eyes. Irritated, he lay down on his blankets and looked over at her again.

  "Come here," he commanded.

  "I will sleep here."

  "You will sleep with me."

  Still, she made no effort to get up and do as he'd told her. Painted Horse was tired and angry. He got up and went to her, and, reaching down, he took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She resisted as he brought her to his blankets. He lay down and drew her down with him.

  Glynna was holding herself rigidly, trying not to shake with fear. She was terrified of what was to come. When he started to untie her wrists, she wondered if she was strong enough to hit him. If she could knock him unconscious, she might be able to escape again. Desperation filled her.

  Painted Horse saw the pure terror in her eyes. He understood it, but he didn't like it. He gave her no chance to break free, but quickly retied the rope around only one of her wrists and then tied the other end around one of his own.

  "Now sleep," he said, then stretched himself out on the blankets.

  Bound together as they were, Painted Horse would know if she tried to get away during the night. He closed his eyes. He needed rest.

  Hunt reached the edge of the canyon at sundown. He knew it was the perfect place for the raiding party to seek shelter, for it was protected and easily defensible. The trail that led down into the depths was rocky, making tracking more difficult, but he had no choice. Glynna was near. He had to find her.

  Moving slowly and cautiously over the rough terrain, Hunt continued on. He would not stop his pursuit until he had freed her. The moon was bright again, so he made steady progress.

  It took some time, but Hunt finally located the village several hours before dawn. From his hidden vantage point, he studied the layout and tried to estimate the number of warriors there. He considered riding straight in, but decided to wait for daybreak. He would make sure
of what he was up against before venturing forth.

  Hunt's instincts were telling him that Glynna was there, but the warrior in him warned him to use caution. He tended to Warrior, not wanting the horse to stir and alert anyone to his presence; then he returned to his hiding place to await the dawn.

  Glynna lay confused and unmoving next to Painted Horse. She feared that the simplest shift in her position might waken him and result in unimaginable horrors at his hands. She wondered why he had not ravished her immediately. Being forced to wait this way was only making it all the more excruciating.

  Glynna closed her eyes. She tried to picture herself back in New York City. It was impossible. The sounds and smells of the Indian village were too foreign to allow that fantasy. Her thoughts drifted to Aunt Mimi, and worry consumed her. She feared her aunt and Diego were dead, and she prayed they were not. Glynna wondered if her father and Edmund had been notified of what had happened and if they would come west to help look for her. She wondered, too, if she'd ever be found.

  Though she didn't want to think about him, Hunt slipped into her thoughts again. He had saved her from the longhorn, and she was certain he could save her from the renegades. Thoughts of his smile, his kiss and his embrace returned, and she clung to them in the darkness of the night. Hunt alone offered her hope in the midst of her despair.

  Glynna realized that Hunt didn't care about her. He'd made that quite clear to her, but surely he wouldn't leave her here, a helpless capture of the raiding party. Memories of their conversation over dinner returned, and she recalled how Hunt had told her that she didn't want to end up in a Comanche camp, that it would be too dangerous. He had been right.

  Thoughts of how innocent she'd been then made Glynna grimace. Had it really been only a few days before? She had been so caught up in the joy of her work in painting beautiful scenes and interesting people, that she hadn't accepted the reality of what the Wild West really was.

  Her work... Glynna grasped at the thought of her paintings as a distraction from the terror surrounding her. She focused on what she'd originally wanted to see in a Comanche camp and realized she'd been given an opportunity. She didn't have any of her art supplies with her, but she could study her surroundings and hoard the images. Someday, and she hoped it would be soon, she would be back at her easel working. Thoughts of the paintings she would do as soon as she was rescued helped her through the long, empty hours of darkness.