Wild Is My Heart

by Connie Mason

  But it was too late. Vern Logan’s fate was already sealed. Then Sam succumbed to the healing drug administered to her by Spirit Dancer and knew no more.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Something terrible was taking place—some unnamed horror that dragged Sam unwillingly from her drugged slumber and finally penetrated her befuddled brain. The animalistic scream that awakened her was a long wail of despair and agony. As she noted the narrow strips of light filtering around the edges of the tent flap, Sam’s first thought was that she couldn’t have slept long for it was still daylight.

  The next drawn-out scream sounded less than human, and Sam clapped her hands over her ears. An odd, indefinable smell assailed her nostrils, like roasting meat, yet different. Then the screams came in quick succession, one after another until there seemed to be no end to one and the beginning of another. Then silence. Absolute, profound silence. The tent flap opened and Brave Eagle entered, his body vividly painted with yellow, white, and black stripes. He spoke only three words but their meaning did not escape Sam.

  “He died badly.” Never had Sam seen anyone as fierce-looking as Brave Eagle at that moment.

  Having no desire to confront what lay outside, not yet anyway, Sam remained inside the safe haven of the tipi. It was cowardly of her, she knew, but Comanches were known for their brutality. She was not yet up to facing what remained of Vern Logan. She lay back, forcing her mind to more pleasant thoughts, wondering how long it would take for Colt to come for her. She loved him so desperately she refused to countenance the notion that Colt might be dead. He would come. Somehow, some way, Colt would find her.

  Dazed by what her mind refused to accept about Vern Logan’s death and still affected by the drug administered by Spirit Dancer, Sam drifted once again into an uneasy sleep.

  Colt’s search for Black Bear’s camp was rewarded when he came upon a group of tipis clustered beside the stream that cut through his land.

  His body tense, mind alert and watchful, Colt rode into the camp. And then he saw it. The charred lump that once was flesh and blood tied to a stake in the center of the camp. Vomit roiled in Colt’s stomach and threatened to spew forth but for his stringent control.

  “Your woman is safe.” Brave Eagle’s words dripped with contempt. “If Violet Eyes were mine I would protect her better than you have done.”

  An angry flush crept up Colt’s neck. “Has my wife been harmed?”

  Brave Eagle’s words cut deeply into Colt’s heart. Lord knows he already blamed himself for not protecting Sam. He should have rushed out immediately to warn her the moment he learned Vern Logan was loose in San Antonio. His failure to do so had provided Logan with the opportunity to hurt Sam.

  “Violet Eyes sleeps. Spirit Dancer gave her a healing draught. She is bruised and exhausted but otherwise unharmed. Violet Eyes is a brave woman, Lion Heart. She would have made me a fine mate. She will bear strong sons and beautiful daughters.”

  “They will be my sons and daughters,” Colt gritted from between clenched teeth.

  The truth of Colt’s words seemed to deflate Brave Eagle, yet he could not resist a final taunt. “Be warned, Lion Heart, I will take Violet Eyes from you if you fail to protect her.”

  “She carries my son.”

  “He will become my son.”

  “Violet Eyes loves me.”

  “Are you certain? She has suffered much because of you.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  Brave Eagle’s silence provided Colt with the answer he hoped for. The Comanche wanted Sam but would do nothing dishonorable—unless Sam expressed a desire to dissolve their union. And she hadn’t. The longing and unrequited love visible in Brave Eagle’s dark eyes healed all Colt’s doubts.

  “Where is my wife?”

  “She rests in the tipi of Black Bear.”

  Colt’s eyes searched the cluster of tipis until he located the brightly painted and distinctive abode of the chief. Grunting in obvious pain, Colt slid from his horse.

  Brave Eagle’s eyes narrowed astutely. “You are hurt.”

  “I’ll live.”

  “Spirit Dancer will see to your wounds.”

  “No! I’ve already seen a doctor. I want to see my wife.”

  Reluctantly Brave Eagle stepped aside. But before Colt could move past the tall brave, Black Bear and Spirit Dancer appeared. The old chief greeted Colt more warmly than his son had done.

  “Welcome, Lion Heart, we expected you.”

  “Once again you have come to my aid, Black Bear, and I’m obliged,” Colt said solemnly. “Please feel free to camp on my land as long as you like. You will not be bothered here as long as you don’t raid my neighbors. Your beeves will arrive as soon as I return to the ranch.”

  Black Bear nodded. “We will winter here. It is good land. Your beeves will provide the People with food so there will be no need to raid. Go to your woman now, she is anxious to see you.”

  Moving stiffly, his body rigid with pain, Colt strode past the three Indians.

  “You are wounded,” Spirit Dancer observed, his words more a statement than a question. His keen eyes easily found the bloody track in Colt’s head and his hands probed for further injuries hidden beneath Colt’s clothing.

  “It’s nothin’,” Colt declared, hastening toward the tipi where Sam awaited. Before entering, he paused briefly, turned, and said, “Send word to my sister. Jim is on his way to the ranch to gather a posse.”

  “It has already been done, Lion Heart,” Black Bear said. “Fawn will prevent your men from riding in needless pursuit of a man already dead.”

  Noiselessly Colt entered the tipi, dropping to his knees beside Sam. With shaking hands he lifted the edge of the robe covering her slim form. She had been stripped and washed and lay nude beneath the cover. Someone had kept a fire going in the center of the tipi, and Colt’s eyes glistened when he saw the slight bulge of her stomach. It amazed him that throughout Sam’s ordeal she hadn’t lost their child. His soft expression turned to one of anger when he noted the bruises on her face and bloody grooves girding her wrists and ankles. When Colt first saw Vern Logan’s mutilated corpse he felt a smidgeon of pity, but now, seeing the results of his abuse, he wished he had arrived in time to watch.

  With one finger Colt gently touched Sam’s face, worshiping her with his eyes and fingertips. She stirred beneath his tender caress, smiling in her sleep as he slowly ran the back of his hand over her cheek, past her chin to the slender column of her neck. It astounded Colt to realize how much he loved Sam. If he had lost her his life would have no meaning. Who would have thought a hard-nosed drifter like himself would experience a love so profound, so all-consuming and intense it would change the entire fabric of his life? Not even his violent hatred of Indians had destroyed that love, though at times it came close.

  Sam stirred restlessly as she started to awaken. “Violet Eyes, I love you.”

  Sam’s eyes flew open. “Colt?”

  “I’m here, darlin’.”

  “Oh, Colt, I knew you’d come!” Her arms circled his neck in exuberant welcome. He winced but gave no other indication of his discomfort. “I was so afraid you were hurt badly when Vern shot you. I nearly lost my mind when you tumbled over the ledge. And later I saw blood. Did Vern’s bullet miss you?”

  “Relax, darlin’, the bullet just grazed my head. I’m alive because of you.”

  “Me?” squeaked Sam.

  “Your warnin’ caused a reflexive action in me that saved my life. My head jerked in answer to your cry, and the bullet merely scraped a path along my scalp.”

  Instinctively Sam’s Angers flew to Colt’s head, where she traced the groove put there by the bullet. Her concerned gaze dropped to his face, frowning when she noted the bruises and scrapes.

  “It’s a miracle you survived the fall down the hill.”

  “I’m okay, darlin’, honest. I’ve been hurt worse.”

  As if to prove his words he scooped her into his arms, his lips procl
aiming her his for all time. Their kiss deepened, held as Sam’s mouth opened, inviting a more intimate caress, and Colt happily complied. His tongue slipped inside, discovering once again all the sweetness she had to offer, all the sweetness that was his alone to enjoy for the rest of his days. He focused on her lips as if they were the first pair he had ever seen. He held her suspended with those intriguing tawny eyes and Sam melted inside.

  “Will it always be this way with us, my love?” Sam asked, her eyes luminous pools of amethyst.

  “Always,” Colt promised.

  Sam’s response was to wrap her arms around Colt’s waist and squeeze tightly. Colt cried out, his face paling.

  “You’re hurt!” Sam exclaimed, tearing at the buttons on his shirt “Where?”

  “It’s nothin’, darlin’, just some cracked ribs.” Sam sucked in her breath when she saw the tight wrapping that covered him from armpits to waist.

  “Hellfire and damnation, how did you ride wrapped up like that?”

  Colt grinned cheekily. “Very carefully.” Abruptly he grew serious. “Let’s go home, darlin’. I want to make love to you in a real bed tonight.”

  “You shouldn’t be making love at all until you’re healed.”

  “What about you? Did Logan harm you in any way? It drove me frantic thinkin’ of all the ways he could have hurt you.” Lovingly he placed his hand on the slight swell of her stomach. “Our son is safe?”

  “Spirit Dancer says he is strong and suffered no ill effects. As for me, other than being tied up for long periods and slapped when I angered Vera, he didn’t hurt me. Spirit Dancer’s medicine has gready revived me. Take me home, Colt.”

  Sam watched Colt undress, his hard-muscled body fit and virile despite the bandage that bound his ribcage. Never would she tire of looking at him, of wanting him, of loving him.

  It was full dark when they arrived home, escorted by Brave Eagle and three other braves. Recalling Brave Eagle’s parting words brought a flush to Sam’s cheeks and she was glad Colt was too busy undressing to notice.

  “If Lion Heart cannot protect what is his, Violet Eyes, I will gladly accept the responsibility. I will always want you.”

  Though Colt wasn’t close enough to hear his words, he had stared at them warily, as if surmising what Brave Eagle said. Sam made light of the brave’s words, expressing gratitude for all he had done for her and reiterating her love for Colt. For a fraction of a second Brave Eagle’s impassive features betrayed his innermost feelings, and Sam was deeply moved by the look of love and longing that flitted across his noble face. Then the look disappeared so quickly Sam might have imagined it. Thinking back, she was surprised that Colt had allowed Brave Eagle that moment alone with her, for he had never made a secret of his jealousy over Brave Eagle’s attention to her.

  Homecoming had been a happy event shared by everyone on the ranch. Will had been beside himself with joy. The last he had seen of his sister was the day she rode off to Laredo. In the weeks she had been gone Will seemed to have grown up. In Sam’s absence he celebrated his fifteenth birthday and was well on his way to manhood. A pang of sadness struck Sam at the thought that the Circle H was no longer Will’s inheritance as their father intended.

  Before Will, Jake, Jim, and Phil, who had returned to accept Colt’s offer of employment, trooped out to the bunkhouse for the night, Sam had managed a few private words with her brother. It was not easy telling Will that she was half-Comanche, or that they had different mothers. But she wanted him to know before he inadvertently found out from someone else. Will looked at her strangely, not speaking for several minutes after the telling.

  Would Will hate her? Sam had wondered, tears springing to her eyes. Or hate their father for keeping her ancestry a secret? She needn’t have worried. Will had matured in the past few months, thanks to Colt, who had insisted that Will be treated like one of the men and not a child. It mattered little to Will who Sam’s mother had been, she was still his beloved sister, the only relative he had left in the world. His arms went around Sam’s neck and he hugged her tightly.

  “You’re still my sister, Sam, and that won’t ever change. I love you.”

  Returning the hug, Sam had said on a sob, “And I love you, Will. I want you to be the first to know that Colt and I intend to marry very soon.”

  Will grinned. “I’m glad. I like Colt. I was certain you didn’t hate him. In a way he saved the ranch by buyin’ it. At least it will stay in the family.”

  “You’re not bitter about Colt owning the Circle H? Pop meant it for you.”

  “Maybe, at first,” Will had admitted, “but only for a little while. The ranch is thrivin’ under Colt’s direction. We would have lost it in any event. You have to admit that stagecoach robbery was a scatterbrained scheme.”

  Sam had had to agree, though if it hadn’t been for their crazy prank that day she would have never met Colt.

  “What are you thinkin?” Colt asked, sliding beneath the sheet. “Are you unhappy that our marriage was posponed? Don’t fret, darlin’, you have my word we’ll have that ceremony soon. When you’re rested enough to ride into Karlsburg.”

  Sam’s mouth curved into a beguiling smile. “Actually, I was thinking about Will. He’s more of a man than I gave him credit for.”

  “You told him?”

  “Everything. He took it very well.”

  “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

  “For what?”

  “For not acceptin’ your mixed blood with the same good grace as Will. I must have put you through hell.”

  “I forgive you. But if you ever act like a bull-headed jackass again, you’ll sleep in the bunk-house,” Sam promised sternly. Her eyes sparkled impishly, belying her words.

  “I’m glad you didn’t insist I sleep out there tonight.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because we’re not married yet.”

  “Spirit Dancer joined us weeks ago,” Sam reminded him. “A preacher’s words could bind us no closer than that simple Indian ceremony. A second wedding will serve only to satisfy the society we live in.”

  Colt’s tawny eyes turned to pure gold as he lowered his head to capture Sam’s lips. He knew he didn’t deserve this special woman, and he vowed to spend the rest of his life proving his love. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered against her lips. “But I don’t want to hurt you or our baby.”

  “Your ribs! You’ll hurt yourself.” “It will hurt far worse if I don’t love you.” “Then love me, for I can’t bear to see you hurt.” Slowly, sensuously, she removed her nightgown, and Colt’s eyes widened at the sheer beauty of her. Colt had touched her before but never with such patient tenderness as he did tonight, leaving hundreds of tiny fires in the wake of his touch. He wasn’t just making love to her but worshiping her. His hands stroked her back and hips as his head lowered to drop soft kisses over her shoulders and the swell of her breasts, nuzzling their velvety softness. Shifting upwards, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her hungrily, thoroughly. Trickles of excitement slithered down Sam’s spine as Colt’s tongue-tip danced along the sensitive line where her lips met, then probed hotly between them. Colt groaned. Sam was all woman—sweet, wild woman, coming vibrantly alive under his caresses—and all his.

  His mouth left her lips, dancing over cheeks, throat, to her breasts, where he greedily licked her nipples until they rose against his heated mouth, taut and jutting with pleasure. A soft moan left Sam’s throat as her whole body began to tremble and vibrate. She dragged in a shaky breath as Colt’s hand sought and found the satiny folds of tender flesh between her thighs. The silken lips of her gently swelling mound felt slick and wet as he slipped a finger inside her.

  “I want to make you happy, darlin’. I want to taste your sweetness on my lips.” He slid downwards, replacing his finger with his mouth, the warmth of his breath disturbing the nest of dark curls at the joining of her thighs.

  His hands lifting her to him and separating the satiny folds of her
femininity, Colt captured the heart of her desire with his lips, bringing her to immediate and unexpected climax with his erotic tonguing. His loving torment continued until Sam grew quiet, then stilled. When Colt would have filled her with his throbbing strength, Sam pushed him back, rising to her knees above him.

  “No, let me. I… I want to make you happy, too.”

  Then she bent forward and pressed kisses to his most sensitive region, stroking his towering length with her hands. When she opened her lips to love him, she felt him stiffen and cry out. “Christ!”

  Suddenly Sam found herself on her back, Colt looming over her, his face taut with passion. “I’m only human, darlin’,” he rasped harshly. “You drive me crazy, Violet Eyes.”

  He flexed his tight-muscled buttocks to fill her again and again. She felt her body expanding with his hugeness as he lifted her hips, driving even deeper within her. Sam absorbed all of him, urging him on, his every thrust taking her far beyond any place he had ever taken her before. And then the sweet desperation began, growing with the thrust and withdrawal of each stroke until Sam knew nothing but the warmth, the taste, and the smell of the man she loved beyond all reason.

  A ball of fire burst within Sam’s stomach and spread flames to all parts of her body as ecstasy exploded. Only seconds behind her, Colt soared to his own reward, crying out sharply, then dropping his tawny head to rest on her breasts. The pain in his ribs brought Colt abrupdy back to earth, and gingerly he lifted himself, rolling onto his back.

  Immediately aware of his distress, Sam teased impulsively, “I hope it was worth it.”

  A slow grin curved Colt’s lips. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll prove how little pain bothers me when I’m makin’ love to you. It’s nothin’ compared to the pleasure you give me. I can’t seem to get enough of you, darlin’. I thought a lifetime of lovin’ you would be enough, but now I know even that won’t be enough.”

  “A few minutes, Lion Heart?” Sam taunted saucily. “Is my tawny lion growing old?”