Sweet Savage Heart

by Janelle Taylor

  He had never seriously considered marriage before meeting her; now he thought about it constantly. She was causing him to experience a wide range of emotions, filling his head with hopes and dreams. And it seemed he was having the same effect on her. Was she as scared as he was about making a permanent commitment to another person? Was she just as afraid to trust him completely and risk total surrender? Would it make a difference to her, now or later, that he was a “despicable half-breed"? What if she met and wanted another man after they reached home? What if she craved a wild life, as her mother had? That would break Nathan’s heart, and his too, if he allowed it. He had been independent for so long before taking on the responsibility of Nathan Crandall; now he was seriously considering adding Rana Michaels to his list of priorities, if she permitted him to do so. First, he had to make certain that this was what he wanted and needed, and she would have to do the same. She could win any man she set her sights on, and he wanted her sights on him! Where was that willful, defiant, arrogant girl others had described? How had she changed so quickly, so completely? It had taken him years! Whatever decision he made about Nathan’s granddaughter, it would be a permanent one, and he vowed it would be made wisely and cautiously, and with her agreement.

  In less than a week they would reach home. He would have to give her time to adjust to her new life and to the people in it. He would have to let her find herself, and he prayed she would also come to understand him. He could not get it out of his mind that they were joined, yet he was very much aware that if he staked a claim on her, he would have to be ready to back it up with a white man’s marriage. In her camp, she had not wanted to marry because the cost would have been her freedom, which she prized so highly. In her new life, she could have both, whether or not her choice of a mate included him. Lord help them all if she was only seeking amusement or revenge on him. No, he refuted mentally, his Rana would never do that.

  Feeling somewhat more confident, he stood and stretched, then left the campfire to scout the surrounding area.

  Rana rolled to her back and sighed restively as her talks with Nathan swirled inside her head to inspire bad dreams. The black-haired man was chasing her again and spewing forth threats and crude language. For a time, all she could do was watch the terrifying action, but suddenly his words became clear. He was shouting, “You’re the lowest kind of woman alive! You didn’t care whose bed you crawled into, just so you got yourself diddled good. I know all about that bastard and the woods colt he sired. You mess with me, woman, and I’ll tell everyone your foul secret. That little piece of information is worth a fortune, and you’re gonna get it for me. You don’t want your pa or that kid learning what a wicked slut you are. If I told what I know, your old man wouldn’t give you a nickel and he would take that kid away from you. You ain’t fit for nothing but giving men pleasure and earning money to keep my mouth shut. You try anything foolish and it’s all over.”

  Rana shifted to her side as she subconsciously tried to block out the painful scene, but another one quickly filled her mind: “This is your last chance. I ain’t gonna have nobody ruining my plans. You fool, you know who Fargo works for and I know who you been dawdling with behind my back! He can’t help you, girl. He only wants what you owe him… You’re coming with me today, and if you open your mouth, I’ll fill his ears and watch all of you suffer. He’ll despise you, and you’ll never get a cent from him. If I toss you out, how will you and that brat live? You’d best be glad you two got me to see after you. I could stomp the Crandall name into the mud if you give me a mind to. Get your things. If this visit didn’t soften him up, nothing will. Just give him a month or two, then we’ll…”

  Rana squirmed to her other side and snuggled into the furry mat. She watched the flaming-haired girl with tear-filled eyes leave the room; yet she could still see and hear the frightening man with his narrowed brown eyes. She watched him stalk toward her and could feel herself backing away from him in panic. She hated him and feared him, for he was evil and cruel. He glared at her and ordered, “Get your things packed for the last time, girl. I’ve found me a way out of this mess. I’m gonna have it all, and then some. Yep, me and that little dark-haired vixen are gonna take it all. Yep, we’re gonna have us a real spread with no problems to bother us. She’s a greedy, wicked little bitch, but I can use her help.” He laughed, then pointed to a small picture of someone who appeared very much like her. “One day you’re gonna be prettier than she is, but you won’t be no stupid whore. Yep, little brat, you’re gonna get me everything I want from your pa. Maybe when you get a little older, I might want more, since you ain’t…”

  Rana almost whimpered in her sleep as she resisted the dreams that seemed determined to haunt her. She could see this woman who looked so much like herself packing clothes in a box. For some reason she put a wanapin and a baby inside a tall wooden hole and closed it. Then she looked across the room and said, “No more fear or running. No more lies about me. No more degradation and threats. No matter what happens, it must end. I’m going to kill him; then we can be free and happy. I’ll never let anyone or anything harm you again, my love. Once he’s dead, the truth will be buried forever. I’ve been a coward too long and he’s nearly destroyed me. Nothing can be worse than living this hell, not even the truth. God forgive me for what I’ve done, but it was a mistake, my love, a terrible mistake. Surely I’ve paid enough for it. Once it’s done, I’ll come home. Home…”

  “Rana,” Travis whispered as he shook her gently. “Rana, wake up.” He watched her fight the nightmare, though she resisted awakening. He was baffled by the words he had overheard, yet he had a gut feeling that Rana was repeating words she had heard her mother say long ago. He wondered how she had remembered them so clearly and if she would recall them when she was awake. Evidently, if this was more than just a bad dream, he had been mistaken about Marissa Crandall Michaels. He wished he knew what the “lies, threats, and secrets” were. It seemed Raymond Michaels had had an awesome hold over Marissa if she had hated and feared him enough to plan his murder, one that fate had not allowed. Oddly, he felt sorry for Nathan’s daughter, for something terrible had ruined her life. He wondered if anyone alive knew her secret.

  Rana stirred and opened her eyes to look upon the smiling face of Travis. She was trembling and her eyes were moist. His gaze and touch were so tender, and she needed tenderness desperately. She refused to think about the dark dreams, which were becoming hazy now. Instead her hands rose, encircled his neck, and pulled his head down to seal their lips. She allowed him to fill her senses, to chase away her fears. When their lips parted, she murmured, “I need you, Travis. Will you hold me?”

  Something in her gaze and voice exposed the depth of her need at that moment. He lay down beside her, pulled her into his arms, and rested her head against his shoulder. Cradling her like a small child, he stroked her hair. She nestled closer to him and sighed peacefully. Travis held her until she was sleeping again, this time without dark dreams. Even then he did not want to release her. It all felt so right as he lay there beneath the stars with her in his arms and his friend Nathan slumbering nearby, as if he had everything of importance within his reach. He somehow knew no peril would befall them tonight, for Wakan Tanka had brought them together and was watching over them. He embraced her tenderly, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

  Three days later, they approached the Red River, which separated Texas from Indian Territory. It was Thursday, the twenty-seventh of June, and they expected to arrive home by Saturday. Fortunately they had not encountered any problems in Indian Territory, and they shared the excitement and joy of reaching home within two days.

  Travis instructed, “I want you two to stay here while I check the current and woods on the other side. When it’s all clear, I’ll signal you to follow. Take it slow and easy, ‘cause the river’s high and fast.”

  Travis urged his horse into the water until it was deep enough for the animal to swim. His gaze scanned the distant bank for any s
ign of danger. While Rana and Nathan watched and waited, Travis and his mount gradually made their way toward the other bank, angling downriver slightly because of the strong current. Just as they reached the other side, a man jumped from behind thick bushes and fired his rifle at Travis. The bullet struck him across the left temple. Rana screamed as Travis fell backward into the swirling water and briefly disappeared beneath its fast-moving surface. As his ambusher tried to seize the stallion’s reins to steal him, the horse reared and pawed, knocking the villain to the ground. The highly trained beast trampled the man’s legs and arms as he yelled and vainly attempted to scramble free.

  Rana’s gaze strained to locate Travis in the water. Finally she sighted him bobbing along with the swift current, dazed and helpless. She shouted to Nathan, “I’m going after him! Wait here and watch for more attackers.” Before Nathan could react or speak, she kneed her horse into a rapid gallop along the riverbank to get ahead of Travis. When she had covered enough distance, she urged the animal into the water and guided him to the center, where Travis was being swept toward her. With skill and in desperation, she placed the horse in Travis’s watery path. When he reached her, she grabbed his shirt and pulled on it with all of her strength. It was a fierce battle, for the current was powerful and greedy, wanting to keep the handsome treasure for itself. Her hand cramped, but she refused to release her grip. Pain shot through her fingers and up her arm at the strain. The water yanked at Travis’s body and she feared she would not be able to hold on to him.

  Rana prayed for the strength and skill to save this man she had come to need so desperately. Her horse was also panicking and she tried to comfort and steady him with soothing words. She could tell the animal was having a difficult time struggling against the river’s pull and their combined weight. She had to maintain control of the animal and her seating because she knew she could not swim to the side with Travis and, if she released him, he would surely drown. “Come on, little horse, you can make it,” she encouraged the frightened animal. “That’s it. Don’t be afraid. Not much farther. You must help Rana, little horse. Rana will take care of you. That’s a good horse,” she declared, urging him onward.

  Clinging to the pommel with one hand and holding Travis’s head above water with the other, she prodded the horse toward the bank. Tears of pain and panic flowed down her cheeks, for she gravely doubted she could succeed. “Please help us, Great Spirit,” she prayed urgently, for she knew all would be lost if she let go of Travis. She was overjoyed when her frantic prayer was answered, for the horse suddenly seemed to feel a burst of energy and strength and fought the current valiantly.

  Yet it seemed as if they would never reach the other side, though this had been her only alternative when she had been unable to turn the animal around in the midst of the swirling river. She glanced down at the man whose unconscious body was pulling mercilessly on her aching arm. The attacker’s bullet had torn through his headband, and she saw blood soaking it and his hair as it streamed down the side of his handsome face and neck to be absorbed by his shirt. She saw his nostrils moving steadily, indicating that he was breathing, and she wanted to pull him into her arms and cover his face with thankful kisses. Her desire went unfulfilled for the moment, for the danger had not yet passed.

  Hurriedly Rana focused her gaze on the bank to make sure they were drawing nearer without drifting too far downriver. She clenched her teeth in grim determination as Travis seemed to get heavier and heavier by the second and her arm weaker and weaker. She was nearly in a state of panic by the time the horse struggled to climb out of the water. Exhausted, the animal staggered and slipped in the mud. Once his head cleared the edge of the water, she carefully released her grip on Travis and hopped off the horse, quickly tying his reins to keep him from running off. She returned to Travis and yanked on his arms until she had his upper body out of the river. Breathing erratically, she dropped to her knees beside him and called his name several times. She stroked his face, then leaned forward to kiss him. He did not awaken. She tore a strip from her sopping dress and, after removing the torn headband and stuffing it into her pocket, she bound his wound.

  Having disregarded her frantic words and having crossed the river upstream in the same area that Travis had traversed, Nathan rode up, with Travis’s horse in tow. He quickly dismounted and joined Rana, who was fretting over the fallen man. He gingerly removed the bandage, checked Travis’s injury, then replaced it. He sighed loudly in relief. “It’s just a graze, Rana. He’ll be fine. Let’s get him on the bank. Far as I can tell, there was only one bushwhacker, and Travis’s horse took care of him.”

  As they worked, Nathan remarked proudly, “That was a brave and reckless thing you did, girl, but you moved and thought quickly. You worried me silly taking off like that. I knew I couldn’t catch up with you two in the river; she’s moving too fast. After seeing you in action before, I figured you could save him, so I hightailed it over here to help you get him out of the water. That was some rescue.”

  They laid Travis in a grassy area and collapsed on the ground to rest. Nathan commented to break their tension, “Lordy, he’s heavy. How in heaven’s name did you hold on with the river yanking on him?”

  Rana smiled and replied mischievously, “I knew you would beat me if I lost your ranch foreman, and we would have been forced to do his work, Grandfather. He is our scout, so we need him.” She reached behind herself to rub her complaining back near her waist, flexed her aching shoulders, then lay flat to appease her fussing body and to slow her respiration to a more normal level. She held up her left hand and gazed at her bleeding, throbbing fingertips where three of her nails had been torn loose at the quick. Tears filled her eyes, but she tried to contain them.

  Travis started coughing and stirring. Rana and Nathan moved to either side of him immediately. His eyes opened to find them leaning over him with worried looks. He remembered being shot and falling into the water. He found he was soaked from head to foot, and his head was pounding. He touched the bandage and gingerly examined his left temple, though the pain caused him to wince as he assessed the extent of his injury. He knew he was lucky, for he realized it was merely a flesh wound that had struck him at just the right angle and speed to render him unconscious. He was fortunate that he hadn’t drowned and that his two companions were safe. He eyed Nathan, who was wet from the hips down, then Rana, who was nearly as soaked as he was except for her hair. She seemed on the verge of tears and he tried to sit up, but Nathan’s hand on his shoulder prevented it.

  “You lie still, son. We’re trying to stop the bleeding. You scared ten years off my life, and I ain’t got none to spare,” Nathan teased to ease his tension.

  “What about that snake in the bushes? Was he alone?” Travis inquired sullenly, rankled with himself for getting ambushed.

  “Apache did him in good, and I didn’t see anybody else. Just a no-good horse thief. You rest awhile,” Nathan advised.

  As Nathan described the incredible rescue, Travis’s gaze went to the drenched Rana, whose expression revealed pain. He noticed how tense and pale she was and how she was bravely trying to conceal something. One hand was clasped tightly in the other one, and blood was seeping through her fingers. Not only had he been rescued, but this slip of a girl had done it and at great risk to herself.

  Travis insisted on sitting up. He reached for Rana’s left hand and pried it free of the other one as she lowered her gaze to avoid meeting his. He had ripped off a single nail before, so he knew how badly she was hurting with three gone. Glancing at the front of his shirt, he realized it was her blood staining it, not his, just as he realized how difficult his rescue had been for her. Considering the rapid action she had taken and the anguish she had endured, she had to be the bravest and most generous woman alive. She had given no thought to her own peril and had not quit when the task had become arduous. She had literally saved his life! She was amazing, unique.

  Her hand quivered in his and felt cold. Blood oozed around the rag
ged edges of her missing nails and raw flesh was visible. He recalled his Indian training for such injuries and that Lone Wolf had given him a pezuta wopahte in case it was needed on the trail. “Nate, get that medicine bundle for me. I need to take care of Rana’s hand.”

  Travis’s grip was warm and gentle, and it caused her to tremble. She was all too aware of her grandfather’s presence as Travis eyed her hand and grimaced, sharing her pain. He asked why she had not told him she was hurt. She tried to pull her hand free as she softly remarked, “I will wash it and tend it. You must rest. The trail is dangerous and we have need of our scout. Do not worry over me,” she urged, though what she really wanted was to fling herself into his arms and cover his face with kisses.

  A half smile teased at one corner of his mouth and brightened his eyes. “Like you didn’t worry over me when I was being swept away by that greedy river?” he hinted roguishly as he caressed her cheek. “From the way it’s been looking, you make a better scout than I do.”

  She debated instantly, “We do not blame you for a tiny mistake. No man is perfect, Travis Kincade, and you must learn to accept this fact. Grandfather wants only your best, and you give it to him. Do not punish yourself for deeds that do not belong to you.”