Sweet Savage Heart

by Janelle Taylor

  Together they rode passion’s waves and were rewarded with soul-stirring pleasure. They drank from love’s cup until every drop of its intoxicating liquid was drained and savored. They lay exhausted, but enlivened, in a serene setting of total contentment.

  As they snuggled together in the afterglow of love, she entreated dreamily, “Tell me more about White Eagle becoming Travis Kincade.”

  Travis patiently repeated the story of his past to her and gave her some new information. Still he left out details of his necessary relationship with Clarissa Caldwell, the threat of destruction from Harrison, and the reappearance of Wes and Jackson in his life. He did not want this beautiful moment spoiled by such ugly and intrusive realities. This thing between them was too special to damage even with defensive lies, so he vowed to be careful about what he said and did. Besides, Rana had just arrived home; she had enough to learn and to handle without him burdening her with those distasteful and dangerous problems. Too, he was afraid she would insist on becoming a “warrior” to help him battle his foes, and he could not bear the thought of seeing her injured or slain. In a few days, he would explain about the Caldwells and their gunslingers, and why she had to stay out of that situation, and why she must allow him to dally with Clarissa. He would protect her, even from her own skill and confidence, which would cause her to insist on riding at his side.

  At present, he knew she was simply very curious about him. He believed that if he was open and honest with her about himself, then eventually she would be able to look upon her own past in the same way. Therefore he was able to explain, “Right after I escaped the Hunkpapa camp, I worked several jobs to spite them, until I realized I couldn’t hurt any or all Indians because of what the Hunkpapas had done to me. Besides, the only one getting hurt was me. When you aim for revenge, you always fire two arrows, and one is pointing at your own heart. That was one of my first and most painful lessons. When I became a U.S. Marshal, I think it was to give me an excuse to hunt down and kill evil men like my father and his partners so they couldn’t hurt innocent people like my mother and me. I finally stopped fooling myself and endangering my life when I discovered why I had been hired. If I recall the words correctly, they went something like, ‘That half-breed can get rid of lots of bastards for us and if he gets killed doing it, what does it matter?’ You see, micante, selfish people use gullible people all the time; and people are more gullible when they’re hurt or seeking revenge.”

  Rana nestled against his firm body and sighed peacefully. Her gaze roved each marking on his wanapin and each scar on his chest and arms. As if trying to determine the agony he had endured with each wound and to comfort them belatedly, her fingers lovingly traced each one. He still retained the honed body, keen instincts, and noble spirit of a highly trained warrior. She had seen him get angry but not lose his temper and control or become violent. She had seen him accept pain without even a soft whimper, and she had seen him use his courage and wits in the Oglala camp. She doubted he had ever cried out during the Sun Dance or his torture. He was so strong and proud, yet so sensitive and vulnerable beneath that seemingly impenetrable surface.

  She listened to him talk about his days with the Apaches and how much he had learned from them, even things the Lakota warriors did not know. He talked about riding with outlaws for a time, claiming it was to show the white law that he was invincible and could do whatever he wanted and no one could touch him. She heard him admit he had been trapped between two sides and could not choose which one to help or hurt, until he finally learned he was the one being harmed the most. Under Nathan’s hands, he had come to accept the fact that he could not change the world, only himself. Again, her fingers traced his scarred flesh—which in no way detracted from its beauty and appeal—and caressed his virile body as she absorbed his soulful confessions. She toyed with the Lakota wanapin as he told her about it. He had faced so many perils and hardships and had known such anguish. Yet she realized how each incident or job had molded him and honed him into the man he was today, a man who stood above others in so many ways.

  Travis kissed her, then left the room to wash up and redress. He returned shortly to find her still reclining on the bed and smiling provocatively at him. He chuckled and teased, “Don’t you go looking at me like that, woman. I have no willpower where you’re concerned, and Nate could return home in an hour or two. Get up and get dressed so I can show you around your new home.”

  Rana did as Travis suggested, rising and leaving the room to refresh herself before dressing. Travis straightened the bed and placed the doll where it had been before their heady bout of lovemaking. He gazed at it and smiled, for he knew that someday they would have a baby, and he vowed their child would never experience the pain its parents had. Strange, he hadn’t given love, marriage, or children any serious thought until he had met that entrancing vixen who had practically turned his gut inside out until he had finally won her heart and acceptance. A child… Nothing would make him happier than making and sharing a child with Rana Michaels. After all, they were married and… Damn, he cursed silently. There were some problems he would have to correct as soon as possible. There was a legal entanglement that now prevented a marriage between them; there was his concern over not getting Rana with child before they were joined under the white man’s law; and there was the matter of getting rid of several dangerous enemies who could be lethal threats to her and Nathan…

  Chapter Twelve

  Travis saddled two horses and took Rana riding. Without going too far and getting out of sight in case of danger, he spent three hours telling her about ranch life and escorting her around the areas of their spread that were visible to those laboring near the wooden structures or the hands working on horseback. She was fascinated by the branding process, which he allowed her to view through his field glasses. She was concerned that the animals were being hurt, so Travis explained the procedure in detail without allowing her to approach the hectic scene. She observed the hands who were herding wild mustangs into a large corral so they could be broken and sold in two months. In the Oglala camp she had witnessed the mastering of wild horses and knew it was a dangerous task. Yet she eagerly asked Travis if she could watch what he had called “bronco-busting.”

  He chuckled and nodded, wondering how she would feel when she watched him nearly busting his butt and ribs on one of those wild beasts that could suddenly seem like a bundle of energy, sharp bones, and flaying hooves. Bronco-busting always gave him a sense of power and victory, and a thrill that was hard to describe to anyone who had not experienced it. There was something about challenging danger, even death, that made him come alive and sharpened his wits. He began thinking that since he was planning on a family soon—a wife and children—perhaps he should cut out some of the dangerous things he had been doing. Certainly Nathan would agree as soon as he was told of the love he and Rana shared. Soon he would become more than Nathan’s adopted son and legal heir, and hopefully that would please the older man. Yet he understood that he could not legally wed Rana as long as he remained her uncle by law, a fact that would have to be altered after any threat to her was removed.

  To avoid the tension of her having to meet so many strangers while she was getting settled, he stayed clear of the wranglers and the families in the married settlement. In about a week, he and Nathan would introduce her to a few people at a time, beginning with those important to the ranch, such as Cody Slade, Mace Hunter, Todd Raines and his wife, Rachel, Darby Davis and his wife, Lettie, and Bart Davis.

  This first day of July was lovely and mild, and the landscape seemed to be showing its gratitude to nature by having donned its prettiest face. Travis could tell that Rana was amazed by the size of their spread and impressed by its beauty. The smiling foreman observed Rana as she twisted this way and that in her saddle to take in everything around them. Each time she looked at him to ask a question or to make a comment, their gazes met and they smiled before speaking.

  He told Rana he would show her the rest
of their land another day, as there was too much territory to cover so quickly and it was past lunch time. After they had returned to the stable and were heading for the house, he asked her if she would be ready and willing to learn how to handle a pistol and rifle that afternoon.

  Excitedly she replied, “Yes, teach me now.”

  “After we eat,” he informed her, then grinned. She was so full of energy, vitality, and curiosity. He enjoyed watching her and sharing time with her. She was such a rare and special woman, and he was delighted she belonged to him. He admitted to himself he was not sorry for staking his claim on her and was eager to increase it. Remembering what they had shared warmed his heart and his body. His gaze engulfed her possessively, proudly. His woman, his wife…

  Rana smiled and her cheeks glowed as she read heartstirring emotions in his eyes. “You do not think of eating food, mihigna,” she teased cheerfully as her eyes lovingly adored him.

  Travis arched one brow devilishly and replied, “You’re right, micante. Today it is not the rumbling in my belly that calls to me.”

  Rana laughed merrily, for she recalled that first night in Lone Wolf’s tepee when he had scolded her with similar words. “It is good, mihigna, for Myeerah’s tepee is too far away for me to fetch food to quiet it. We have both changed much since that first night.”

  Rich masculine laughter filled the air as Travis realized to what she was alluding with her jest. “Yes, we have both changed, Rana,” he concurred, reaching over to caress her flushed cheek. At that moment, he did not care who was watching or what anyone thought.

  “My grandfather has tamed you, and you have tamed me. I will no longer behave like a rebellious child or a wild spirit.”

  Travis’s brows lifted and his eyes widened in surprise. Slowly the reaction faded and his gaze revealed sparkling eyes that narrowed slightly to form tiny lines at their corners. White teeth gleamed as his smile broadened and those creases deepened. Astonishingly he vowed, “I don’t want to tame you, Rana; I like you and want you just as you are. You possess just the right blend of strength and softness. You’re kind and generous, and you’re the smartest and bravest woman I’ve ever met. Stay as you are, my fiery-haired temptress. You have so much spirit and life, Rana, and you make me feel good just being around you. I wish you to grow by learning, micante, but do not change.”

  She was deeply touched by his words and her eyes grew misty. “But I am stubborn and defiant,” she softly refuted.

  “Only because you wanted to do all the things you loved and needed to do, and the Oglalas wouldn’t allow it. Here, Rana, you can do almost anything,” he informed her, stressing the one vital word. “You have plenty of skills and talents, but you have to learn where and when to use them, especially on me,” he teased.

  To control his desire for her at this inconvenient time, he changed the subject. “The white man’s laws and ways are different. I’ll teach them to you, and you must obey them. Here, only bad men raid, and when they’re captured they’re punished. If we want something, we work for money, then we buy it; we never take it. If a man does wrong, we don’t kill him; he’s captured and punished, by jailing him or hanging him. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you all you need to know,” he encouraged when she frowned in dismay and confusion. He tried to explain the American government, Texas laws, trials, justice, and more, but he could tell this information was overwhelming, befuddling.

  She thought a minute, then asked, “What if the bad man flees before this… sheriff comes to… arrest him? This man called a lawyer—what if he tricks others with clever lies? What if the jury does not believe your charges? Will he go free?” she inquired, disliking this seemingly irrational form of justice. She insisted, “It is a man’s responsibility to defend his own life and lands, and those of his family. If another does evil deeds, his guilt is known and he should die. It is right for the one who suffers from his evil to punish him.”

  “A white man cannot take the law into his own hands, Rana. If he does, he’s guilty of breaking the law and can be punished. In America, the white lands, justice must be carried out legally. It protects an innocent person who’s been falsely or mistakenly accused of a black deed, which we call a crime. Years ago I could have used a lawyer and a jury trial in the Hunkpapa camp and maybe I would have gotten a fair shake,” he remarked to make his point.

  She considered those words, then shook her head. “This makes no sense, Travis Kincade,” she argued softly. “If a man does evil to you and the white law does not punish him, will you let him go free to harm another? Does this white justice always work?”

  Travis grimaced at her painful point, for that was exactly what he would not do. Embittered or mistreated men often took the law into their own hands, just as, if necessary, he was planning to do very soon. How could he honestly tell her, “Do as I say, not as I do"? Trapped, he wondered how to answer her sincere question without lying or causing confusion in her new education.

  Suddenly Rana smiled mischievously. “I understand. You must obey white laws when possible; but if justice fails you, you must appear to accept such laws while you carry out your own justice in secret, and you must not be captured while breaking these laws. Is this not so?”

  “Lordy, women, you’re too clever to fool or argue with. The trouble with taking the law into your own hands is you risk hurting those you love. Your family and friends can be accused of helping you and they can be punished. Besides, the white law is powerful and persistent. If you challenge it, you had better be ready to die, ‘cause some of those lawmen will chase you to hell and back. I know; I did it several times when I was an Army scout and U.S. Marshal.”

  “What of these men who raid our lands? Why does the white law not capture and punish them?”

  “The sheriff says he doesn’t know who’s responsible. The rustlers strike at night and nobody sees them. If people do witness their crimes, they’re too afraid to give out their identities. They’re like shadows, Rana, and you can’t capture a shadow. Once they become real men, the law will punish them. I’m going to try to unmask them. All I need is evidence on who’s behind all this trouble.”

  “To capture a dark shadow, you must become a darker shadow. Remember how we set traps for the sly fox and crafty raccoon? One who does mischief or evil must be snared. When you capture them, must you give them to the sheriff? Or will you punish them?”

  “I’m supposed to hand them over to the law,” he replied vaguely.

  Rana eyed him for a few moments, then stated confidently, “You know who leads this band of night raiders. You are planning how to defeat them. Let Rana help you,” she entreated earnestly.

  Travis stared her in the eye as he warned, “Listen to me, Rana Michaels. These men are dangerous, and I don’t want you getting hurt. Don’t talk about this to anyone except me and Nate. We want you to stay close to home until this matter is settled. Understand?”

  “But I can help you defeat them. Did I not prove my fighting skills on the trail? You will be in danger, and I wish to protect you.”

  Travis sighed heavily. “Darn you, woman, I can’t be careful if I have to worry about you. In case you haven’t noticed before, you are most distracting. If those men got one look at you…” He halted and shook his head vigorously. “No, micante. Please don’t fight me on this. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t stand it.”

  Rana could not suppress a happy smile. “I wish to help you and Grandfather, but I will obey.”

  Travis sighed in relief and cuffed her chin playfully. “Good. You don’t know these people and, if you said or did the wrong thing, you could endanger all of us and the ranch. We have to be very careful and alert. You see, micante, until we know who’s involved, we can’t trust anyone. Right now, all I can do is watch and listen for clues. When I get evidence against the guilty ones, I’ll let the sheriff handle them, or I will,” he added with a sly grin.

  As he prepared their meal, Rana observed the man who ruled her emotions. Earlier this morning he h
ad tended her injured fingers and rebandaged them, and now he had refused to allow her to help him prepare their food or wash up afterward. Nathan arrived just as they were leaving the house to begin her pistol and rifle lessons. The session was delayed when Nathan asked Travis to join him in his office for a talk.

  Nathan smiled at Rana and said, “You sit here on the porch and I’ll be finished with Travis soon; then he can teach you to shoot. I talked with a woman in town this morning. She’ll be coming out tomorrow to take your measurements so she can make you some clothes. And I spoke with the schoolteacher; he’s agreed to come out here a few days a week to help with your lessons.”

  Rana hugged Nathan and said, “You are very kind and generous, Grandfather. I will wait here for Travis.” She realized Nathan was worried about something and wanted to discuss it privately with Travis, and she quickly surmised it was the trouble with the evil men. She watched them go inside, then she sat down on the top step to relax and think.

  Time passed as Rana awaited their return, and she was so caught up in her thoughts that she did not notice the young man who approached the house. As he sighted the beautiful, flaming-haired girl, he stared, then smiled genially. Halting at the bottom porch step, he declared, “You must be Mister Crandall’s granddaughter. I’m Cody Slade. Are Mister Crandall and the boss inside?” he asked pleasantly.

  Rana recognized the man’s name and noted that he seemed very friendly and polite. “I am Rana Michaels. Grandfather and Travis entered the house to speak privately. We must wait here for their return,” she informed him, trying to speak properly and cordially.