Warrior Moon

by Sara Orwig

  Captain Milos studied her, tilting up her chin. “Open the dress,” he ordered.

  Blushing hotly, she did as he asked, looking beyond him, trying to ignore the lust in his eyes as he gazed at her body.

  He moved to her to stroke her breasts.

  “Your body responds, even if you don’t.”

  She kept her mouth firmly closed, hating his touch and his lecherous gaze. Retreating from his grasp, she covered herself with the slashed buckskin. Her gaze slid back to him as anger filled her. “Let them go, and I’ll do as you ask.”

  “No. If I let him go, then you have to do better than just as I ask. You’re to try to please me.”

  She nodded. “I will if I see them all ride out of here.”

  “They can’t have our horses. Horses are too valuable during wartime. They can go on foot.”

  “You took our horses and you can give those back.”

  “No. We need horses and those were good mounts. I won’t give them horses. Those redskins are accustomed to walking.”

  Sensing he wouldn’t yield about the horses, she gave up that argument. “I have to see them walk away.”

  “You don’t trust my word?” he questioned sardonically. A smile spread across his handsome face as he leered at her.

  “No, I don’t. You hate him. I want to see him go and know that he is not being followed by soldiers who will kill him.”

  “He’s not that important to me. If it will put you eagerly into my bed and you’ll entertain me, then he can go. I’ll arrange for you to watch them leave. In the meantime, I’ll get you a dress. I don’t want any taint of the redskin on you. You’re to bathe and make yourself as pretty as possible for me. This godforsaken frontier is bad enough when I go into town. Out here, it is so dull it could drive a man mad. You should liven up my life. And if you don’t,” he added menacingly, lifting her chin so she could not avoid his intent, “my men will easily overtake them because the Indians can’t go fast on foot. Do you understand? You’re to please me fully.”

  “I understand,” she said, feeling as if something were dying inside, but knowing she was trading her body for Lone Wolf’s life and the freedom of the others.

  “You will come with me to my quarters,” he commanded, picking up his glass of brandy and downing it quickly.

  She held the buckskin together and followed closely behind him. They left the office and crossed the grounds, then entered a small frame house. The furnishings were spartan, but familiar: a settee and chairs in the narrow front room, field gear hanging on the wall beside a small drop-front desk, a bull’s-eye lantern on the desk. Through the open doorway she could see an iron bed and a washstand with a pitcher and washbowl.

  “You can have a woman in your quarters?”

  “Yes. I run this fort. With a war going on and a shortage of men, no one gives a damn what I do out here as long as I try to keep the redskins under control. I’ll have a tub of water fetched for you—and a decent dress and shoes. You won’t need underthings. Take down your hair, I want to see it.”

  She started to turn around.

  “No. Don’t turn,” he ordered. “Take it down.”

  When she released the buckskin, it gaped open as she reached back to unfasten the long braid and pull the strands of hair free. The air was cool on her bare skin, and she felt humiliated as his eyes roamed over her. His arousal was obvious, and she jerked her gaze up, away from him.

  As she stared beyond him out the window at the empty grounds, she heard the scrape of his boots. He crossed the room, his arm banding her waist, his hand sliding over her bare skin as he pushed open the buckskin dress to touch her breast.

  He bent his head, and his mouth covered hers in a bruising kiss. He leaned over her while he kissed her for long seconds until he stopped and raised his head to look at her with a frown. “You said you’d cooperate and please me.”

  “You haven’t let them go yet.”

  “I’m going to, so you start now,” he grumbled.

  She wound her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, kissing him in return and hating him, loathing his touch, knowing her heart belonged to only one man.

  When Dupree released her, he was breathing hard, his eyes glazed with lust. “I want you clean. I want his touch washed off.”

  “How soon will you release them?”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “You may watch them go this afternoon.”

  She felt a surge of relief and satisfaction. If she could save every one of them by pleasing him, it would be worth the sacrifice and she would do so for as many days as she thought it would take them to get far from Fort Bascom.

  “My sister is returning home. I want to ask her to write to me and send the letter here, so I’ll know when they have all arrived safely,” she said, wanting him to think she would have some way to check on what he did to them.

  “Where’s your home?”

  “St. Joseph, Missouri,” she answered, thinking that would explain their traveling east from Tucumcari.

  “And the redskin? Surely he isn’t going to St. Joseph.”

  “He was accompanying us there.”

  He gave her a contemptuous look of disbelief and then he shrugged. “I’ll be back to get you and let you watch them go.” He left, closing the door behind him. She let out her breath and rushed to the window, her gaze going across the parade ground, to the long barracks, the storeroom, and barbershop. She watched Captain Milos cross the parade ground, his long stride purposeful. She would be his tonight and she not only would have to endure him, but she would have to try to please him.

  Revulsion filled her while her gaze slid over the buildings. She spotted one with bars over the windows and wondered if that were where Lone Wolf was being held.

  Captain Milos headed for that building and Vanessa’s pulse jumped. Maybe Milos was going to tell them to release Lone Wolf now. She watched him enter, and she closed her eyes, praying he was going to tell them Lone Wolf was going to go free.

  Captain Dupree Milos closed the door behind him and crossed to the cell where Lone Wolf was stretched on the floor.

  “Is he alive?”

  “Yes, sir,” answered Private Nordstrom. “Like some old mule. Just won’t die.”

  “Nordstrom, Rutledge, get him out of there and tie him to the bars.”

  While the men did as he ordered, the iron bars clanking behind him, Milos selected a rawhide bullwhacker’s whip from the corner. He snapped it and listened to the loud pop. “Nordstrom, wait a minute. Revive him. Pour water on him until he knows what’s happening. I want to talk to him.”

  He waited while Rutledge went to the pump. The young soldier returned with a bucket of water which he threw on Lone Wolf, who groaned. The Indian’s head rolled as the men held him up, and then he opened his eyes and blinked, straightening up.

  “Hold him,” Dupree said, moving only yards away from Lone Wolf, standing with his booted feet apart, his fists on his hips. “You dirty redskin. I thought I killed you.”

  Lone Wolf stared back at him, and Dupree couldn’t tell what was in the redskin’s mind. He didn’t know if he understood English, but he suspected he did or the woman wouldn’t have been so taken with him. “You’re going to live. You’re going to wish you were dead, but you’ll live and you’ll walk out of here because your white woman is going to purchase your freedom with her body.”

  The redskin drew a deep breath, and Dupree felt a surge of satisfaction: The man had understood what he’d said. He moved closer, his voice lowering. “She’s a beauty, and she’s promised to do everything she can to pleasure me for your safety; so when you’re crawling across the stinking desert, think about me between her thighs.”

  Lone Wolf lunged at him, and Dupree swung his fist. Lone Wolf broke free of Nordstrom’s grasp and hit Dupree, who staggered back and crashed over the desk.

  “Stop him!” Dupree shouted. Both soldiers grabbed Lone Wolf, but he shook them off. A third soldier came running from the back,
and all four of them tackled Lone Wolf, slamming him against the bars. Three soldiers pinned him back, and Dupree pulled away.

  “Strip him, turn him around, and lash his hands to the bars,” he ordered, rubbing his jaw and shaking with rage. How he’d like to beat the redskin almost to death and then peg him out in the wild, but he wanted the woman’s cooperation.

  Dupree would have preferred for the Indian to die in a day or two, but his bargain with Vanessa required that the prisoner be able to walk. Still, Dupree could make Lone Wolf’s stay as painful as possible. He motioned the enlisted men aside with a crack of the whip. He swung again, concentrating his strength into his arm as he laid the rawhide across the Indian’s back.

  For the next ten minutes he beat him until his back and the backs of his legs and buttocks were bloody. Dupree stopped, his arm aching, his body trembling from the exertion.

  “Get him down and get him dressed. Feed him. Have him on the parade ground, able to stand and walk, in an hour. Give him some brandy. That’ll fire him up. Feed him good.”

  “Yes, sir.” Nordstrom answered as they took down Lone Wolf’s arms. The Indian sagged to the floor, and they let him fall.

  “In an hour bring out the old woman and the children. Don’t feed them. Let them fend for themselves when they leave here. I just want them strong enough to walk out of the fort.” He looked down at Lone Wolf.

  “I’d like to slit the bastard’s throat, but I’ve made a deal for him. Take care of him,” he said and walked out. He returned to his office where he ordered a tub to be brought. After bathing and changing, his spirits lifted and his anger dissipated because tonight would be one of the most enjoyable times he had spent in this hellish end of nowhere. The only good thing about it was that it kept him from getting a minié ball through his heart in the War Between the States.

  After ordering dinner to be sent to his quarters later, he was ready to go get the woman and let her watch him free the others. He wondered who they were. An odd assortment—one warrior, one old crone, a white child, and a redskin baby. He hadn’t known any warriors to travel with only a family of women and no other braves around. He crossed the parade grounds to his house and opened the door.

  Vanessa spun around to face Captain Milos Dupree as he entered the room. His uniform was fresh and spotless, his blond hair combed.

  Dupree’s arousal was swift as he looked at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful with her auburn hair falling freely like a red-gold curtain across her shoulders. The gingham dress was plain and blue, but the neckline was low and revealed her lush curves and pale skin. He wanted to take her right now, but he curbed his impulses, knowing he had to get the prisoners out of the fort. If they died four hours from now, he didn’t care. Frankly, he hoped the man would die in a few days. It would give him time to suffer.

  “You look beautiful, as I thought you would.”

  “Thank you,” she answered solemnly, and he felt a flash of anger.

  “You agreed to please me. I want your smiles. I want you to treat me as if I’m the man you will marry and the man you love with all your heart. Now come kiss me.”

  Repulsed by him, yet desperate for the sake of the others, she crossed the room, forcing a smile to her lips. She stood on tiptoe to place her mouth over his and kiss him. His body responded instantly, and he slid his arm around her waist to pull her close as his lips hungrily sought more.

  He finally paused and raised his head, looking into her wide green eyes. “That’s better,” he said in a husky voice while he stroked her throat. “For kisses like that, I’ll gladly let them go. I’ve ordered them brought to the parade ground. We’ll watch their release and then come back here for an uninterrupted evening.”

  Vanessa hated the lust in his voice and the way his eyes kept going to her neckline, yet she had made a bargain with him and she would stand by it.

  He took her arm and they walked into the sunshine. The wind caught her hair and whipped locks of it across her face. She saw Lone Wolf, Muaahap, Belva, and White Bird standing in a cluster with armed soldiers beside them. They were only yards from the open gates at the entrance of the fort. Two soldiers stood at ready, their rifles pointed at Lone Wolf.

  Her gaze went from White Bird to Belva to Lone Wolf, who gave her the same impassive stare she had seen countless times. Even with the blood dried on his temple and cheek, he looked fierce and arrogant. And he was going to turn and walk out of her life. She hurt badly and couldn’t stop the spill of tears on her cheeks.

  “Can I kiss them goodbye?”

  “No”, Captain Milos said, tightening his grip on her arm. “My bargain was to release them unharmed and to allow you to see them go.” He nodded, and one of the soldiers motioned to them.

  Belva waved and wiped her eyes, taking White Bird’s hand. Lone Wolf gazed at Vanessa and then turned, walking slowly, and she wondered if he were suffering from being dragged behind the horse. Her tears streamed freely now, and she didn’t care. At least they would live, because Muaahap and Lone Wolf were at home on this land.

  Suddenly White Bird yanked away from Belva and ran back to Vanessa, holding her arms out, crying, “Mama! Mama!”

  Vanessa knelt to scoop her up, holding her close, feeling the tiny body, White Bird’s thin arms around her neck. She didn’t want to let go of White Bird, but she knew she had to or Captain Milos would part them by force.

  “I love you,” she whispered, kissing White Bird’s cheek, handing her to Belva, who had come back to take her. A soldier stood in front of her, but Vanessa ignored him and placed White Bird in Belva’s arms.

  Tears ran down Belva’s cheeks as well, and Vanessa hugged them both. “Take care of them and yourself. I’ll be all right,” she whispered. She stepped away and Belva turned when the soldier took her arm.

  Now four soldiers stood with rifles drawn on Lone Wolf, whose angry countenance was fierce. Vanessa stared at him, feeling as if something inside were crumbling.

  “She called you mama,” Captain Milos said coldly.

  “I taught her to call me that.”

  He glanced at them again. “If he tries anything, he’s dead.”

  She watched as Belva caught up with them while White Bird cried and held out her arms to Vanessa. Muaahap and Lone Wolf turned to walk with them, and they moved slowly toward the gate.

  “I wish you would let them have horses.”

  “That wasn’t in our bargain and they don’t need horses. The redskins will find their own people and they know how to survive out here like the snakes and the cactus.”

  He took her arm and she jerked away. “No! You said I could see them go. I want to go to the gates and stand where I can see them safely away from here. My seeing them go was part of our bargain,” she snapped.

  He studied her and then nodded. “Very well.” He reached out to touch her cheek, his expression filled with contempt. “You cry for a redskin. You’re a squaw, his woman.”

  She looked directly into his blue eyes. “Yes, I am. I love him.”

  His nostrils flared and for a moment Vanessa thought he might strike her. “Bitch,” he said coldly. “Come along. You can watch them go, and then we’ll return to my quarters and you’ll keep your part of the bargain.” He held her arm and they walked through the gates. She could see the small party moving slowly, White Bird walking now with one hand in Belva’s and the other held by Muaahap.

  With every step they took away from her, Vanessa felt as if they were walking out of her life and she would never see them again. She had never dreamed it would hurt so badly to part with them. Tears poured down her cheeks as she cried silently, aching, feeling as if her heart were being torn out. Would she ever see any of them again?

  Captain Dupree wouldn’t keep her a long time, because he would tire of her, but by then Lone Wolf might be so far away with his constantly moving tribe that she wouldn’t ever find him.

  And what if Dupree sent her somewhere when he tired of her? After a few weeks, Captain Milos mig
ht not care whether she stayed or ran away.

  Her tears finally stopped as she watched the figures diminish and grow smaller in the distance.

  “How did all of you get together?”

  “I encountered them after the battle. He was wounded and needed help and his niece was with him.”

  “That’s not his own child then. Who’s the crone?”

  “She’s a Comanche who wanted to travel with us.”

  “And the girl is your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “You would rather she go with them than stay here with us and be returned to your family?”

  “Yes. She’s fine with them.”

  Now she couldn’t see any of them. She felt reassured that they had gotten away from the fort and that no men were riding out loaded and armed. Milos took her arm. “We can go back now.”

  “No. I want to wait a little longer. I want to feel satisfied that you haven’t sent any soldiers after them,” she argued, knowing she was prolonging what was inevitable. He had kept his part of the bargain, and now she would have to keep hers.

  He paced impatiently behind her. “You can watch the gate from my quarters; but I promise you, I am not sending anyone after them. I don’t want them. They’re not important to me.”

  “He is,” she said flatly. “I saw the anger in your expression when you realized who he was.”

  “He wounded me at Adobe Walls. They make those war arrows with barbs so they’ll do the most damage and tear the flesh if you try to pull them out. Yes, I remember him—and he remembers me because I killed his woman.”

  “She was his sister-in-law,” Vanessa said flatly. “You killed the little girl’s mother.”

  “She was an Indian. They would have killed me if they could have.”

  Vanessa felt a wave of revulsion toward him, wanting to leap at him and claw him and tell him that he had taken a child’s mother from her. “She was unarmed and not fighting. She was only trying to protect her little girl,” Vanessa said, remembering what Lone Wolf had told her about White Bird’s mother.