Wild Lilly (16 page)

Corina and Morning Hawk were surrounded by a group of little girls, all dancing around the horse’s hooves without a worry in the world. Each wore a buckskin dress and leggings, and their long black hair was pulled back in braids or flowing around their shoulders. Bright white teeth flashed out in happy smiles as they reached over to touch Storm as he walked past. Clutched in their arms were buckskin dolls, carefully dressed in brightly embroidered clothes.

“My nieces,” Corina explained with a fond smile. “They want to know why we returned with strangers, and if you are prisoners or guests.”

The girls ran back to the camp, their braids flying behind them. “They will go spread the word. If you want the tribe to know your business, just tell it to those gossiping birds,” Morning Hawk said with a laugh.

Sun Eagle, Winter Mist, and Creeping Fox broke off from the group and disappeared into the maze of teepees. Corina watched her son ride off with a sigh. Morning Hawk placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Sleeping Bear turned to Lilly, the muscles beneath his bronzed skin bunching as he held his head high. “These are my people.”

Chapter Ten

One Penny

Paul held the horn of his saddle with one hand, trying to resist the urge to knock Sleeping Bear off his black-and-white horse. The entire ride, Paul had been attempting to get Lilly alone to talk with her, but Sleeping Bear stuck by her side like a big, annoying burr.

How had things gone so wrong so fast?
He thought she would certainly sell him her land after his seduction by the river. Unfortunately, she proved too tempting to resist, and he wasted the opportunity...well...perhaps
wasted
was too strong of a word. He could hardly call the feel of her climaxing against his lips a waste of time. After finding her hurt but alive, all he had wanted to do was touch her and hold her close. His foolish emotions had cost them both.

Rubbing his lips and remembering the feel of the wet heat of her skin, his mind turned to her talk of marriage. For a brief moment, he considered it. The thought of waking up to Lilly every morning certainly appealed to his heart, but his mind kept reminding him that she was a spoiled socialite, just like Matilda. Old pain still stung his heart and pride at the memory of all those people laughing at him. Of Matilda’s sneer of disgust at the idea of joining him out West.

He shifted in his saddle and glowered some more at Sleeping Bear. While Lilly didn’t seem to be encouraging him, she did tend to stare at Sleeping Bear’s muscular back when the man wasn’t looking. And Sleeping Bear was none too subtle about his attention to Lilly. It made Paul grit his teeth every time he ran his eyes over her figure. He told himself that he was only concerned because Sleeping Bear could complicate his plans, but even he didn’t believe the lie.

A group of older Comanche men waited for them at the edge of the village. Morning Hawk greeted the elders and slid off his roan gelding, talking to the men and gesturing to Paul and Lilly. Sleeping Bear followed suit, leading his dun mare over to the elders. A man in buckskin leggings with blue beads on the fringe embraced Sleeping Bear. From their similar looks, Paul figured the man was his father. Sleeping Bear pointed at Lilly with a smile and the old man nodded, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.

Lilly watched Morning Hawk talk to the older men, and Paul took the opening to say, “When we get home, I’m going to kiss you until you can’t see straight.”

Her full pink lips quirked into a grin and she slowly licked the lower one. “Play your cards right, Mr. McGregor, and I’ll let you..”

Paul sucked in his breath at the erotic image of Lilly ridding his cock, her golden hair hanging down her back, full breasts trembling in the air as her thighs locked around him. He wet his lips, remembering her taste, and found her emerald eyes following the path of his tongue. No, he couldn’t take her maidenhead. If he did, she would never find a good match back in Connecticut. She’d end up with some rank bastard. Some rank bastard who didn’t deserve her.

Closing his eyes, he rubbed his face and sighed. What the hell was wrong with him? He was acting like some jealous fool. If he didn’t get his mind back on track, he was going to lose the land his family needed and lose Lilly to some over-muscled Comanche that better keep his damn hands to himself.

The high-pitched sound of children giggling made him pull his head around. Paul snickered at the sight before him. A very uncomfortable Sleeping Bear tried to fend off the advances of a well-developed young woman with the part in her scalp painted white. She tried to lay a hand on his arm, and he stepped away, almost dancing around the figure of his father. One of the men talking to Morning Hawk barked an order at her, and she stuck out her full lower lip in a pout. Sleeping Bear took the chance to escape and melted into the village.

The girl looked at their group, and noticed Paul watching her. She raised her arched eyebrows and softened her lips, taking a deep breath that pressed her generous breasts up against her buckskin dress. Her hips rolled as she sauntered toward him, tossing the thick black braid of her hair over her shoulder. Paul didn’t know who she was, but there went trouble with a capital T.

***

Lilly couldn’t believe the audacity of the woman walking toward them. She was all but purring as she approached Paul, ignoring Lilly as if she weren’t there. Her wide, dark eyes reminded Lilly of Estrella and she ground her teeth. The girl—woman—did something with her hips and shoulders that made her large breasts bounce and jiggle with each step.

Gazing up at Paul through lowered lashes, she said in a husky voice, “Welcome to my father’s village. My name is Summer Storm.”

Lilly tried to catch her laugh and ended up snorting and coughing in a most unbecoming manner. Summer Storm cut her eyes to her and lifted her head, her lips firming into a narrow line. “Why do you laugh?”

Lilly attempted to smooth her expression, but she didn’t like the way Summer Storm was fluttering her lashes at Paul. “Forgive me, but my horse’s name is also Storm.”

The girl spat on the ground and said some words in Comanche that were probably not very flattering. Corina walked up behind Summer Storm and gasped, snatching the girl up by her ear. “How dare you call our guest such names?”

Corina was a tall woman, and she marched Summer Storm over to the group of elders as the girl hissed and tried to twist away. The man with his part painted yellow shook his head at Summer Storm and pointed to the camp. She gave Lilly another evil glare before she flounced off. Lilly was quite impressed the girl could turn a flounce into a sexual invitation.

She turned in her saddle to Paul and gave him a glittering smile. “If she touches you, I’m going to scalp her.”

“And if Sleeping Bear touches you, I’m going to scalp him.”

She blinked at him and patted her unruly braids. As if Sleeping Bear could ever hold a candle to Paul, but maybe it was good to remind him that she wasn’t his...yet. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. Which one is Sleeping Bear again?”

“Didn’t notice? He was the one stuck to your side the entire ride here.” Paul narrowed his eyes at her from beneath the brim of his black Stetson.

“That one? Well, he is rather big and he does have exquisite hair. That tattoo is also fascinating.” She pretended to consider this, pursing her lips and looking in the direction where Sleeping Bear had gone. “But I think Summer Storm has a previous claim on him.”

“You are wicked, woman. You almost make me feel bad for him.”

Morning Hawk came up and gestured for them to dismount. “Paul, come with me to inspect our herd. We could use your help with some of the young stallions. Lilly, go with Sleeping Bear and the elders.”

Paul dismounted and stepped back from Morning Hawk. “No way. We stay together.”

She slid to the ground next to them, wincing as her legs became reacquainted with the earth. “We aren’t in the position to argue, Paul. I doubt anything is going to happen to me while I’m with the elders.”

Morning Hawk glanced over his shoulder and back to them. “The man with the white stripe in his hair is the Peace Chief. You will
not
offend him by implying his protection of Lilly is not strong enough. Not if you want to leave the village alive.”

Paul’s shoulders sagged, and he ignored Morning Hawk’s warning hiss as he took her hand. “Be safe, I....”

She arched a brow. “You?”

He took off his hat and ran his hand through his dark hair. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Not exactly the words she was hoping to hear. She tried to keep her smile light. “I’ll be all right. I’m sure Morning Hawk and Corina will take care of me. If I feel threatened, I’ll just find Sleeping Bear to protect me.” The last part she added on impulse, and it made her happy in a perverse way to see Paul’s jaw clench in anger. I don’t want anything to happen to you, indeed, she thought.

She gave Storm to a young boy and followed Morning Hawk into the village. As they walked away, she had to fight the urge to turn and see if Paul was watching her. Despite his foreboding, she was thrilled to get to see an actual Indian village. Even if she was there as a prisoner in everything but word, this was an adventure beyond anything she had ever dreamed of back in Connecticut.

Dark eyes watched Lilly’s every move. All of the children trailed her and the elders like a pack of curious puppies, but the men and women of the tribe seemed to distrust her on sight. A few of the women turned their backs when she walked by, shunning her. Her sense of excitement and adventure faded the further they got into the village. This wasn’t how she had pictured it from images created by her uncle’s letters and popular fiction back home. These weren’t bloodthirsty savages who killed out of mindless anger. They were a proud people who were being slowly starved to death.

Crouching over a basket, she avoided the sunken eyes of the woman before them.

“Peaceful Ash says that normally they have five large baskets of dandelion root to get them through the winter. Because of the reduction in land, they only have this. If the children get sick, they will not have enough herbs to make the medicine they will need,” Corina translated in a soft voice.

“What about the Indian Agent’s office? Aren’t they supposed to help provide medicine?”

Sleeping Bear grunted from where he stood next to the teepee. “The Indian Agent would rather line his pocket with money than spend it on savages. I do most of the trading with him for our tribe. He grows fat while our people die.”

Corina closed her eyes and nodded. “It’s true. Some of the agents are good men who try to help, but the system is so corrupt that only one penny out of every dollar actually makes it to the tribe.”

Lilly stood, dusting her hands off on the buckskin dress. Little faces, strategically ignored by the tribal elders, peeked out from the edges of teepees. She’d learned that to the Comanche, children were considered their greatest treasure, cherished and protected above all else. This was most evident in the faces of the mothers. Many were so thin it appeared as if their cheekbones were about to cut through their skin. Corina told her many of the women gave most of their food to their children. The husbands had to keep up their energy to hunt, often riding for days at a time in search of game. Now that she thought about it, other than Corina’s naturally full cheeks, the woman’s hands and arms were very thin. Guilt lanced her as she wondered how much of the family’s precious food she and Paul had eaten.

“As the settlers and soldiers killed off the buffalo, they killed off the major source of our food and materials. Now we have to go further to find them, and spend more resources and energy to do it.” Corina listened to one of the elders speak, and replied to him. “Council Member Blue Horse remembers when the buffalo stretched from horizon to horizon, but now those days are passing.”

“How much land did you lose?” Lilly asked in a low voice. She was humbled by the sacrifice the men and women of the tribe made for their children. It made her think of her parents, and all the things they must have done to try to provide the best life for Lilly and her sisters.

“Two thousand acres. The Indian Agent did a count of the tribes, and said we did not need so much land to sustain us.” Corina spat into the campfire. “He did not care that the reason we are losing our people is because of disease and starvation. It’s not like our young are leaving the tribe to go live in the cities.”

They continued to walk around the village, a murmur of conversation following their footsteps. It made her feel guilty, thinking about all the readily available sources of food she took for granted. When the Comanche killed a buffalo, every part of it was used for something.

Lilly paused to admire a hide being cured on a large rack. A woman smeared it with a greasy mixture—lard, probably—while she sang in a low voice. The bones of her wrists looked fragile enough to snap and her dress hung on her too-thin frame. A baby lay in a basket wrapped in rabbit fur next to her. His brown cheeks were full and round and he contentedly sucked his fingers while he slept.

“Corina, I need some place to think.” Lilly watched the face of the sleeping infant and blinked back tears.

Corina hesitated, looking to the elders who had stopped to talk to an old woman with long, grey braids. Lilly sighed and gestured to her ever-present shadow. “Sleeping Bear can come with me to make sure I don’t run off. I just need to be alone for a bit.”