Warrior Moon

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Warrior Moon Page 30

by Sara Orwig


  After a time they walked outside again. With a rustling of straw, she moved to the front of the loft near a window where she could see the street and glimpse the main street. She piled straw high in front of her and settled to wait.

  Over an hour later, she heard shouts outside, the sound carrying through the open window. She raised up cautiously to listen, afraid to look out.

  “Have you seen a woman wearing a blue dress? She’s pretty and young. This is a picture of her.”

  “Wish I had. Nope, not around here. You think those women are here?”

  “One of them is, and we have to find her.” The voice trailed away. She settled back on the straw and closed her eyes, knowing she should sleep and rest now if she could.

  When she stirred, it was dark. Her eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight coming through the open window in the loft. She sat quietly listening for anyone else in the stable. In time, she moved cautiously down the ladder and gazed around. Five horses were in stalls.

  She went to the front door and pushed. It was locked as she had expected. She turned and saw the doors to the corral that were barred from the inside. Hurrying, Vanessa lifted the bar. She placed two gold coins beside a stall and led a black gelding out to saddle it. In ten minutes, she opened the corral gate and led the horse through, her pulse pounding because now she would be in terrible danger.

  She closed the gate, mounted, and rode quietly out of town, looking at the stars and darkened houses, knowing she would draw less attention if she went slowly. Her nerves were taut, her ears straining for any sound. Once she turned to glance at the empty street behind her. Far down the street where light spilled from a cantina, she saw a man move into the street.

  She left town, heading north for the river and breaking into a gallop. Her nerves were raw, and panic gripped her until she saw the silver ribbon glistening in the moonlight. She had reached the river, and she turned east.

  During the next day Vanessa followed the Canadian River, aware she would ride too far north and have to drop back south, but afraid she would get lost otherwise.

  Riding through the night and all day, stopping to give her horse rests, she hoped to widen the distance because she had no doubt that Dupree would come after her. With her father on the way to Tucumcari, Dupree would want her back desperately.

  The following night she kept riding, dozing and almost falling from the saddle only to jerk upright and wake. A cold north wind blew, and she pulled the cape tightly across her shoulders.

  During the next day, she had to stop to sleep, terrified that she would wake as Dupree’s prisoner, but unable to go on.

  When she mounted again to ride, she continued following the river. She realized how much she had learned about traveling across country from Lone Wolf. Losing count of days and nights, she continued along the meandering Canadian until she began to worry because she should have reached the place where the wagon train had camped or where the battle had been fought. She might miss the wagon train site, but she expected the battleground to be easy to recognize. Adding to her fears, the supply of jerked beef dwindled.

  Late in the afternoon of the next day, she saw the first saber on the ground. She rode past it and, in a few minutes, saw a scrap of a uniform. She halted, studying the land and the river, then she dismounted to rest and let her horse drink. She refilled the canteens, knowing the worst part of the journey lay ahead because now she was uncertain about where to find Lone Wolf. He had said some fifty miles south of the battle site, and she prayed she could locate him because she wouldn’t have the food or water to return.

  She turned south, looking back once at the scrap of blue on the ground. She rode for several hours and then stopped to sleep. During the night a cold north wind whipped her until she was numb, forcing her to stop again and wait for daylight and sunshine. The next day she began to run low on water.

  After another three days, she tried to curb her panic. She didn’t want to admit that she was wandering on the plains, hopelessly lost. She lifted her chin and paused, deciding to turn west before she rode too far south.

  Time began to blur; she lost track of the days and wondered if she would wander on the empty land until she died of starvation or thirst.

  Had she wandered in circles? Was there anyone within miles of her? She hadn’t seen a town since she’d left Tucumcari and the few times she had seen riders in a distance, she had hidden near mesquites until they passed.

  She ate the last of the jerked beef and knew there was little water left. She knew Muaahap and Lone Wolf would have eaten berries they found and cactus, but she was uncertain about the cactus and she hadn’t found any berries. It was late afternoon and she rode hunched on the horse, the wind whipping at her. Ahead was a break in the land. Maybe there was a creek with water. She rode closer, seeing that the gap was a wide chasm.

  Weak with hunger and exhaustion, she continued, riding to the edge of the ridge, where the gelding stopped. She stared a moment, dazed, thinking she was imagining the canyon. The deep sides were layers of colors, reds and yellows, brush growing along canyon sides; and at the bottom, the canyon was filled with more tipis than she had ever seen in her life.

  When another gust of wind buffeted her, she blinked and straightened up. Smoke spiraled into the air from the tipis, and people moved about. She glanced around, seeking the easiest way down the embankment, afraid that when she reached the bottom, the village would vanish, that it was merely a sight that her desperate imagination conjured up. She turned the horse and found a place that wasn’t as steep, urging the gelding down the slope, winding her way to the bottom.

  She heard a drumbeat and then men calling, saw them running back and forth. Her head spun and she felt dizzy, faint with weakness, as she rode forward. People came out of tipis toward her, standing to stare at her as she rode into their camp.

  She tried to remember the words Lone Wolf had taught her, but her thoughts spun away and she felt a lightheadedness. As she rode closer, the gelding walked past a cluster of men. A warrior with black streaks on his face and feathers in his hair strode toward her. She gazed into his dark eyes and he stopped, frowning and staring at her.

  She rode past more warriors who watched her intently, and then she saw Lone Wolf walking toward her, his black hair flying out behind his head. Looking strong and powerful, he was dressed in buckskins, a red band encircling his head. In long strides he approached her, his dark eyes fixed on her as Vanessa felt blackness enveloping her.

  Twenty-three

  Lone Wolf had been talking with two warriors when he heard Claw of Eagle yell that a white woman was riding into camp.

  A shock jolted Lone Wolf and he stood up abruptly. He saw people moving toward the southwest and he strode forward. Muaahap emerged from a tipi and glanced at him, her eyes round with curiosity.

  As a cold gust of wind struck him, he lengthened his stride. He heard the words red hair. He stretched out his long legs, his pulse jumping, his curiosity rampant as he moved beyond the last ring of tipis. People stood staring and he looked up, shock stabbing him.

  Riding toward him on a gaunt black horse was Vanessa, her green eyes enormous, her hair a tangle, a black cape wrapped tightly around her. She was thin and pale and swayed as she rode.

  Stunned with disbelief, he raced toward her, his heart pounding violently. Her eyes closed, and she went limp.

  As she fell, he caught her, pulling her from the horse and turning to stride with her in his arms back to the tipi that Muaahap and Belva had carefully made for him. Vanessa was incredibly light in his arms, fragile and no heavier than a child, and fear for her gripped him. Muaahap turned around to rush ahead of him, and his people began to murmur, their questions floating in the air, but he couldn’t stop to answer any of them. His panic ran deep. Vanessa might not have eaten or had water for days. And beneath all his fear a surging joy coursed in him that he held her in his arms again.

  How had she ridden from Tucumcari and found him? He rushed into the tipi where
Belva was already building the fire up and Muaahap was getting out her collection of medicines and a container of water.

  He laid Vanessa on a bed made of hides placed on rawhide lashed to poles so it stood off the ground a few feet. He knelt beside her to hold her head and raise the water to her lips as Muaahap went around to Vanessa’s other side to wipe her face with a damp rag. When Muaahap placed a thick buffalo robe over her, Lone Wolf wanted to pull her into his arms to try to get her warm.

  Instead, he held her head and watched her lashes flutter as he tried to pour a little water between her chapped lips. When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, Lone Wolf felt as if the breath had been swept out of him and everything inside him pulled into a tight knot. With a shaking hand, he set down the water and drew Vanessa into his arms gently to hold her, burying his face in her hair and feeling hot tears stinging his eyes.

  While she wrapped her arms around him, he tried to keep from holding her too tightly, but he wanted her against his heart.

  “Vanessa, my love,” he whispered. “My love.”

  Leaning back, he picked up the water to hold it to her lips. All the while she drank, she kept her large green eyes fixed on him. He couldn’t look away from her or talk for the knot that burned in his throat. He stroked her head and looked around at Muaahap, who had something cooking over the firepit, causing a delicious smell of stewing meat to fill the tipi.

  “You’re here and you’re safe,” he whispered, kissing Vanessa’s forehead and her cheek while she patted his shoulder and gazed at him as if she were too weak to talk.

  “Guipago!”

  He turned. Muaahap held two leather pouches and a gourd in her hand and motioned to him to move away. Reluctantly, he stood to let Muaahap tend Vanessa. He left the tipi to explain to the others who she was and how she came to ride into camp.

  When he returned to the tipi she was asleep, and Muaahap sat close beside her, combing her hair while Belva stirred the bubbling stew. He ate and sat nearby, waiting patiently for Vanessa to waken. He had unsaddled her horse, which was in need of water and food, and again he wondered, how she had come all the way from Fort Bascom. How long had she been alone?

  When she stirred, he moved to her side. He had never seen the blue velvet dress before. Muaahap had unbuttoned it, and Vanessa’s soft curves were revealed. The velvet was muddy along the skirt, covered with twigs and dust, wrinkled, as if she had worn it since starting her journey. She’d had an empty canteen, and he hadn’t found any food in the saddlebags.

  She hadn’t been riding an army saddle, so she had left from somewhere besides Fort Bascom. Questions swirled in his mind as he stood over her.

  Muaahap indicated she had fed Vanessa earlier, and he sat beside Vanessa to lift her into his arms. After a time, when he glanced around, he saw that Muaahap and Belva were gone.

  He cradled Vanessa in his arms until her eyes opened. She gazed up at him, her green eyes enormous. Slowly, she raised her arm to place it around his neck.

  “I was afraid I’d never find you,” she whispered.

  His heart thudded and he bent his head to kiss her gently, his lips touching hers lightly, trying to curb the devouring hunger he felt for her until she was stronger. He held her against his heart, stroking her head, rocking her in his arms, murmuring softly to her in Kiowa words.

  Vanessa held him tightly, her fingers sliding across his shoulder and arms, reassuring herself he wasn’t a dream. “I was so afraid I wouldn’t find you,” she repeated, and he pressed her head against his chest.

  “You did, love. I couldn’t believe my eyes.” He shifted to look down at her. “You rode here from Fort Bascom?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “You showed me the way, remember?”

  “Only a vague description,” he said, looking at her. “Who came with you?”

  “I came alone,” she said, watching him close his eyes as if he had received a blow.

  “Alone? Vanessa—” He bit off his words and pulled her closer to hug her, burying his face in her thick hair.

  “I got away from Dupree in Tucumcari.”

  “Vanessa, you could have missed us so easily.”

  “I thought I had. I followed the river until I reached the site of the battle where you had camped before. Then I turned south as you’d said to. I ran out of food and water. I don’t do too well at traveling without you,” she murmured, feeling exhausted now that she was safe with him.

  He held her again, rocking her, his arms tightly around her. Finally, he leaned back to look into her eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No,” she answered, knowing he was referring to Dupree.

  “Then we will forget he ever existed. I’ll make you forget him.”

  “He didn’t take me to his bed.”

  Lone Wolf frowned, staring at her with disbelief. “You escaped?”

  “No. He learned who my father is and he thought Papa could help his career. Dupree wanted me to marry him.”

  Lone Wolf’s breath went out in a hiss. Without waiting for his comment, she continued. “He sent for Papa and Papa was on his way from Fort McKavett when I ran away.”

  “I can’t believe you came alone. Vanessa, you could have been lost or picked up by others.”

  “There are not many others out here,” she answered, closing her eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

  “You’ll feel better tomorrow, love. Go to sleep. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go.”

  With a faint smile, she placed her head against his chest. He stroked her head, his hand sliding over her shoulder and back until he realized she was asleep. He hovered over her while Muaahap tended her, and that night he slept on a bed close to hers.

  The next morning he left while Muaahap fed and bathed Vanessa. Mid-morning he returned to the tipi with White Bird at his side because he had promised her she could see Vanessa. The moment he stepped inside, his pulse jumped.

  Vanessa stood across the tipi and she turned to look at him, her wide, lustrous eyes focusing on him with a look that made his blood heat. He held White Bird’s hand, and she gave a cry of delight, holding out her arms to run to Vanessa, who picked her up and held her tightly.

  “’Nessa. I love you,” White Bird said, squeezing Vanessa’s neck.

  “And I love you, precious,” Vanessa said, hugging White Bird who smelled clean and sweet. She gazed past her at Lone Wolf, who stood watching them.

  “She’s missed you. She knew you were here last night and wanted to come see you, but we told her she had to wait.”

  “I’m back now and I won’t leave you again,” Vanessa said to White Bird while White Bird turned a lock of Vanessa’s hair in her tiny fingers.

  “I’ll return and get her shortly,” Lone Wolf said, leaving Vanessa with White Bird. She sat down to hold the little girl on her lap, hugging her again, so thankful to be back with all of them because they seemed like her family now.

  Half an hour later, Belva came to the tipi, and when she left, she took White Bird with her. Vanessa stood up, moving around, feeling her strength returning after Muaahap’s feeding and care. She brushed her hair and heard a rustle.

  Lone Wolf entered and closed the flap to the tipi. Wearing buckskins, looking handsome and strong, he crossed to her, his dark gaze intense.

  Vanessa’s heart pounded wildly as he came toward her and took her in his arms. His mouth touched hers and hers opened; his tongue met hers swiftly. She held him, her heart pounding as she returned his kiss, still amazed to be with him. Joy coursed through her along with an overwhelming longing for him. He felt solid and powerful, and finally she was in his arms. Breathless from his kisses, she leaned away to look up at him, her gaze going over his dark hair.

  “I had to find you,” she said quietly. “Papa was coming to Tucumcari. I knew he would make me marry the captain or he would escort me to the convent himself.”

  “If I had known you were riding out here alone—” Lone Wolf stroked her hair. “What will I do with you? He
adstrong, self-willed, beautiful. Vanessa,” he said solemnly, “we agreed to wed. I want to do so as soon as you’re strong enough.”

  With joy she kissed him, leaning back, finally, to look at him. “I’m strong enough.”

  Amusement glinted in his dark eyes and then it was gone, replaced by desire. “I would like to have the wedding this next hour, but within the next few days we will wed.”

  She held him tightly, her heart pounding with happiness while his hand continued to stroke her head and back.

  “Vanessa,” he said in a husky voice, and she looked up at him again. His dark eyes were intense. He framed her face with his large hands, holding her gently as he gazed down into her eyes. “I love you,” he said quietly. The words took away her breath as she looked up at him. “You’ve healed my grief. I loved Eyes That Smile, but now my heart fills with love for you.”

  Her joy soared, and she tightened her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to kiss him long and passionately, her heart pounding with happiness. She had never expected to hear those words from him before they wed. His arms tightened as he kissed her, his tongue going deep, his arousal pressing against her.

  He raised his head. “I forget. You are all bones now, and I don’t want to hold you so tightly that I hurt you.”

  “You’ll never hurt me,” she assured him. “I didn’t think I’d hear those words from you for a long while—if ever. I hoped that you would grow to love me with time—”

  “Back at Bascom when I saw you across the parade ground, I knew what I was losing, Vanessa. I’ve loved you for a long time now, but I was so blind to it.”

  “You love me now. That’s what’s important,” she whispered joyously.

  “When I left you with the captain, I knew how strong my love for you is. If it hadn’t been for White Bird and Belva, I would have tried to fight him—”

  “Thank heavens you didn’t! They had rifles on you and would have shot you at the first move. And that would have been unbearable.”

  “Life with me may not be easy for—”

 

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