Bride Gone Bad

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Bride Gone Bad Page 13

by Sabine Starr


  And she knew in the depths of her being that he was about to tell her something that was going to change her world and maybe end her admiration. Yet they’d come to this point and nothing could stop him now.

  She gripped the saddle horn, ready for the worst, or so she hoped with all her being.

  Chapter 25

  Once Lucky got back on the main road heading east, he hesitated to talk with Tempest. He’d like to wait till the Sun came up, so he could watch her expressions. Yet he doubted he could put it off any longer. Events were moving fast and people were coming into play. If possible, he wanted to avoid mistakes, confusion, or excessive danger.

  “You wanted to tell me something?” she asked.

  “Maybe I’ll wait till sunup.” He knew he was delaying the discussion because he was concerned about her reaction.

  “That bad?”

  “No.”

  “I won’t judge you. I’ve had too much of that myself.”

  He rode close to her. Pale moonlight painted her face in shades of silver, giving her an otherworldly appearance. He needed to give her more credit. Maybe she would understand and accept all he had to tell her.

  When she gently squeezed his hand, he felt their deep connection. It gave him courage. “I told you I was President of the Society for the Preservation of Antiquities, didn’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “In fact, that is the cover name for the real organization.” He held her gaze. “I’m actually Chief of the Secret Order of Sun Rattlers.”

  “Does it come out of your Indian heritage?”

  “Yes. I’m mixed-blood. French. Choctaw. Atlahtaw.”

  “You can be most anything you want then, can’t you?”

  “Depends. In Indian Territory, folks have some breathing room to live as Indians in the old ways or the new ways. But I don’t know how long it will last. Americans are clamoring for the land. More are slipping over the borders every day. Some ranchers and farmers pay rent, but squatters are putting down roots, too. Outlaws take advantage. Yet the tribes can handle all that. It’s the laws coming out of the U.S. Congress that worry me.”

  “I can understand your concern.”

  “Some mixed-bloods lose their heritage or deny it to survive, but others don’t.”

  “That’s you.”

  “Yes.” He hesitated, continuing to watch her face. “I guess my main question is this. How do you feel about Indians?”

  “About one in particular, or in general?”

  “Both.”

  “You’re the first person who ever understood or valued my affliction.”

  “Your gift.”

  “My birthright was never called into question. Like yours. I imagine I’ve had it easy compared to most Indians.” She squeezed his hand again. “If you’re a good example, I like Indians just fine.”

  “And me?”

  “I like you even better.”

  He leaned over and placed a warm kiss on her lips as she reached up and cradled his face with the palm of her hand. Soon the horses separated them by moving apart.

  “Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

  “There’s more.” He was relieved to know that she felt as he’d thought she would when so many still feared and resented the tribes. “When the Atlahtaw Nation was defeated, not many survived to continue the ancient heritage, but not all was lost. Priests and priestesses or Medicine People, who we call Rattlers, moved the People’s power from the physical plane to the spirit plane.”

  “How could they do that?”

  “It was within their ability.”

  “But what was the point?”

  “Power can be wielded for good or evil. They protected it from being used to hurt Turtle Island and Indians.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t really need to. What you do need to know is that the power has waned. Rattlers aren’t as strong as they once were. Indians are losing ground everywhere in what has become the United States.”

  “You called me Rattler, but I’m no priestess.”

  “You have the vision of a priestess.” He glanced up and saw that pale light was brightening the eastern horizon. “Legend has it that the powerful Soleil Wheel of the Atlahtaw Nation is buried in an ancient Indian city near Fort Coffee.”

  “What does it look like?”

  “According to legend, the Soleil Wheel is shaped like the symbol on my chest. It’s made of copper embossed with the zigzag pattern of a rattlesnake. At the end of each spoke is a different color. For example, a pearl to represent white might be attached at the top of the Wheel.”

  “It sounds beautiful.”

  “Yes, I imagine it is. Yet the Soleil Wheel’s importance is its innate power. It’s similar to a Medicine Wheel in that it is symbolic of the Earth’s elements and seasons. The right quadrant represents the East or Air with yellow, the bottom represents the South or Fire with red, the left represents the West or Water with black, the top represents the North or Earth with white. And the Spirit with no color, or all colors, is represented in the center where the bars cross.”

  “That is amazing.” She looked at him in wonder. “And you think I can find it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re putting a lot of faith in me.”

  “You must find it.” He glanced behind them, thinking about Haig’s heading out soon. He focused on her again. “We aren’t the only ones looking for the Soleil Wheel.”

  “How many people know about it?”

  “Not all Rattlers are good. Some seek power and glory for themselves.”

  “Sounds like everybody else.”

  “You heard Haig talk about Crawdaddy, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Crawdaddy is a Rattler. And he’s ruthless. He deals in antiquities, looting ceremonial and burial mounds. He sells the artifacts to the highest bidder in Europe. We’ve argued over his actions, but he insists that Indian antiquities are his heritage to do with as he pleases.”

  “And he’s the one who is taking over illegal whiskey distribution in Indian Territory.”

  “Right.”

  “Is he after the Soleil Wheel?”

  “Yes, he is.” Lucky felt sunlight warm his face and raised his left hand in an ancient greeting to the Sun. “If Crawdaddy takes control of the Soleil Wheel, he’ll use it to enhance his own power. If he sells it overseas, removing it from Turtle Island, the People’s power will be broken. We can’t let him get it.”

  “I thought you just wanted me to talk with ghosts. This sounds extremely serious and dangerous.”

  “It’s all that and more. But for now, something else is most important. Do you believe me?”

  “I don’t have the experience or the heritage to believe or disbelieve. What I know is that I can see and speak with ghosts. If I can do that, how much more is there in the world that I don’t know about but that is real to others?”

  He smiled, feeling a sense of relief. He hadn’t lost her, at least not yet. “Now you understand my rush to get to Fort Coffee.”

  “Yes. But what about Haig?”

  “He works for Crawdaddy, so I suspect he’s connected to the Soleil Wheel in some way.”

  “Maybe he’s just interested in the whiskey business.”

  “He sounded more like a lieutenant. If so, Crawdaddy will depend on him to manage more than one part of his domain.”

  “Will Crawdaddy go himself after the Wheel?”

  Lucky shook his head. “Usually he keeps his hands clean and his trail cold. But the Soleil Wheel could bring him up from his river bottom.”

  “I hope not.”

  “I’d like to stop him for good.”

  “Is he a chief like you?”

  “No. If he could get rid of me, he’d take over the Rattlers.”

  “I don’t want to meet him. He sounds ruthless.”

  “You’re my main concern. If he knew about you, he’d try to get you.”

  “Get me?”


  “He’d hold you, own you, use you.”

  “No. That’s not possible.”

  He rode closer to her. “Tempest, listen to me. Nobody is playing a game here. We’re all playing for keeps. Crawdaddy recognizes no law except his own. He considers me an annoying fly in his ointment that he’ll eventually squash flat. We meet socially to keep an eye on each other, but neither doubts that we’re enemies. He would consider it a personal coup if he could take you from me and use you to find the Soleil Wheel.”

  “I wouldn’t help him.”

  “You wouldn’t have a choice.”

  “I’m stronger than you think.”

  “It has nothing to do with strength.” He reached out and patted her hand, wanting to comfort her for what was to come next.

  “Then what?”

  “We got interrupted at the creek.”

  “I know, only too well.”

  “There’s more I want to share with you.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as we get another opportunity to be alone.”

  She smiled, giving him an enticing look.

  He opened his mouth to tell her about the final initiation that would bind her to him, but what if she objected? What if she wouldn’t take that last step into his world? The Moon Rattler had made Tempest open and vulnerable. If Crawdaddy got his hands on her, he’d make short work of binding her to him. She’d never be free to live her own life again. He’d use her sight and power to build his domain even bigger.

  Yet Lucky closed his mouth. When she was bound to him, she would still have free will. She could stay with him, or she could go back to her old life. He would be weakened without her, as the Earth would be without the Sun or Moon. She was everything he could want in a woman, a mate, a life partner, but he wouldn’t influence her decision to stay with him.

  He would do his best to woo her and win her. She was his ladylove. Yet no matter what, he must complete the initiation. He couldn’t take a chance on her safety or happiness. The Moon Rattler had put her in his care, so it was up to him to protect her.

  If he could get enough distance ahead of their enemies, he’d reveal to her even more of her passionate nature.

  Chapter 26

  By evening, Tempest was so ready to get off Anna that she was squirming in the saddle. They’d taken several breaks during the day, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She’d had time to think about Lucky’s words, but she still found what he’d told her almost unbelievable. If she didn’t see ghosts, she’d question his truth. Yet as she well knew, life didn’t come wrapped up in neat little packages.

  “We’re nearing the Boggy River,” Lucky said. “Burnt Boggy Saloon will be north of us somewhere near the juncture at Clear Boggy Creek.”

  “Aren’t saloons illegal in Indian Territory?”

  “Whiskey and Choc, or Choctaw beer, are illegal. But folks can play poker and eat beans and beef in Burnt Boggy.”

  “And if the law stops by, they hide the liquor?”

  “Most likely. But first the law would have to find the place. It’s kept on the move. It’s burned to the ground in a couple of brawls. And there’s a lookout.”

  “Sounds like somebody is resourceful.”

  “Outlaws. No way to keep whiskey out of the Territory. Lighthorsemen and Deputy U.S. Marshals do their best to limit it.”

  “Do you think the artist is still at Burnt Boggy?”

  “If he’s trading art for whiskey, I can’t think of a better place.”

  “I hope it won’t be another Red River Saloon for me.”

  “Was that so bad? Made you famous. Got you jobs.”

  “And I met you.” She glanced over at him, feeling amazed at this journey she was sharing with him. “I wonder how Mrs. Bartholomew and the TSPT members are getting along?”

  “Bet they’re staying close to towns along the Katy line.”

  “I can’t imagine them venturing out into Indian Territory.”

  “Maybe they’ve already gone back to Texas.”

  “Mrs. Bartholomew was pretty determined to carry the word north of the Red River.” She hesitated, thinking about the harsh words they’d exchanged in the Bend. “I wish I’d left things better with her.”

  “Don’t know how you could’ve.”

  “It was a strange situation.” She could still hardly believe her life had changed so quickly.

  He chuckled. “It was funny, too.”

  “Now it is.” She glanced over and met his intense gaze. Once she’d thought his eyes the color of whiskey, but now she saw luminous amber that reflected his complicated character.

  “Let’s find a good place to make camp off the beaten track before we get too close to Burnt Boggy.”

  “I’d like to rest.” She felt her body flush at the thought of being alone on a blanket with him again. She wanted to pick up where they’d left off before Haig had intruded into their lives.

  “You’re holding up well for all the miles we’ve covered.”

  “Thanks. I’m sore, but I’m okay.” She took a deep breath, catching the scent of pine. “Do you think it’s safe to stop for the night? I’m worried that Haig might catch up with us.”

  “Doubtful. He’s in a wagon loaded down with whiskey, so we ought to be making twice the time. And we got a head start on him, too.”

  She felt a sense of relief. She’d feared Haig might surprise them again. This time, she wanted to be ready and waiting for him. She touched the S&W .32 in its holster on a belt around her waist. Haig couldn’t threaten her or outshoot her. She stroked the pearl handle of her revolver. When she saw Haig, she’d demand her grandma’s money. And she had the firepower to back up her words.

  She was grateful to Lucky for teaching her how to load, hold, and shoot a revolver. She’d practiced each time they’d stopped for a break. She wasn’t a deadeye yet, not by any means, but at close range she could hold her own. Most likely, it’d never come to her needing to draw her weapon. She couldn’t even imagine actually shooting somebody. Yet if worst came to worst, she stood a chance of coming out alive.

  When they reached the Boggy River, Lucky pointed north. “Let’s camp away from the bank and on a rise. It’ll be safer.”

  Once more she felt grateful that she was with him. Otherwise, she’d never have found her way in the wilderness.

  She followed him up a trail that meandered along the river past hackberry, blackjack, and post oak trees. Birds trilled in the treetops, insects buzzed past her ears, and the horses grabbed mouthfuls of tall grass. She felt at peace with the world, as if there was no past or future. She only existed in the present with a desirable man at her side.

  She watched as Lucky turned off the trail, rode down to the river, and let his mount slurp up water. She stopped beside him. He grabbed their canteens, quickly filled them, and then returned hers. She took a drink, enjoying the cool liquid as it slid down her throat.

  Soon he led the way through high grass to a rise overlooking the river. A tall hackberry shaded the area so little grew under the tree. She glanced around, but could see no other person or building. Spectacular nature ran riot, not yet tamed by human hand. She hoped the land would stay this way for a long time to come.

  Tempest watched Lucky dismount in one graceful movement and then turn toward her. When he smiled, his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

  “It’ll be dark soon. Let’s set up camp.” He walked over and held out his arms. “Let me help you down.”

  “Thanks.” She was stronger than when she’d crossed the Red River, but she’d still be a little shaky after so many hours on horseback.

  She swung her leg over the saddle, stepped down, and felt Lucky’s arms around her. She leaned back against his chest, basking in his strength and warmth. When his hands rose to cup her breasts, she moaned and swiveled to throw her arms around his neck. She knocked off his hat at about the same time he removed hers. She ran her fingers into his thick, dark hair, reveling in the feel of him. He followed her movements and p
ulled the pins from her chignon to let her long hair cascade down her back.

  “I’ve thought of little else,” he murmured. “We’ve got all night.”

  “I want you all night.”

  When he pressed soft kisses across her cheek to her lips, then lingered there to trace with the tip of his tongue, she pulled him closer. She felt the strong muscles of his shoulders as he kissed her with a ferocity that left her breathless. She kissed him back, nipping his tongue, drawing him deeper, feeling scorched by him. As his hands roamed lower, down her back to clasp her butt so that he could push his hard shaft against her, she shivered with mounting need.

  He pressed heated kisses down her throat and lingered on the fabric of her blouse over her heart.

  “That place is on fire,” she moaned, feeling as she couldn’t get close enough to him.

  “So is mine.”

  “Yours?” She raised her head to look at him in puzzlement. “That solar cross?”

  He gazed back at her, eyes dark as molasses. “Soleil Wheel.”

  She felt chilled as she rubbed the place over her heart. “It’s not a rash or poison ivy, is it?”

  “No.”

  She stood very still as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse till he exposed the reddened area. She glanced down. It was taking on the same shape as the one on his chest. She stepped back, shaking her head.

  “Did that Moon Rattler do something to me?”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her back close to him. He bent his head and placed a kiss on the burning place.

  She felt his touch go straight to the center of her. She was suddenly hungering for him and feeling hot and wet and swollen. She needed him like she’d never needed anything or anyone before. And yet, she didn’t trust him or what was happening to her. She stepped back, putting distance between them.

  “You didn’t tell me everything, did you?”

 

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