Never Surrender (2 page)

“I’d hate to think our time together is over so soon
today,” Brandon said as he leaned back against another car.

“I’ve enjoyed talking with you and I want to know more
about the petroglyphs. Can you tell me about them?”

* * * * *

Brandon adjusted his hat as he took a better look at
Kate. Her petite frame and long legs had drawn his immediate attention back in
the store. The emerald green of her eyes, set in the face of an angel,
complemented her long dark hair. He liked her curiosity of their town. Though
she was a total stranger, she seemed so familiar to him.

Then he recalled what his grandfather had told him
long ago when he’d been given a gold ring with emerald stones. It was tethered
on a piece of leather he now wore around his neck tucked under his shirt. His
tribal legend had it that each son would pass this ring on to his son and one day
a woman would claim the ring as her own. Brandon noticed that Kate happened to
wear a similar ring.
The stones matched her eyes
, he thought. “I hope
you don’t mind me being so forward. Normally, I’m not. I’d like to offer you
and your traveling companion a tour of the area.”

Kate tipped her head in confusion. “Offer
us
a
tour? I’m not traveling with anyone.”

Brandon squinted his eyes in the sun as if he were
taken by surprise. “You can’t possibly be here alone...are you?”

Kate didn’t answer right away but turned toward her
Trailblazer to unlock the door. “Yes, I came out west alone on vacation.”
Opening the door, she tossed her purse across the seat then smiled at him
openly. “Does being alone disqualify me from a tour?”

Her eyes twinkled when she smiled. He laughed but also
wondered who would let this beautiful woman travel across the United States
alone? Did she not have a boyfriend or husband back home? He replied with a
smile of his own, one that he hoped would put her at ease. “Certainly not.
Where would you like to start?”

“At Whiskey Basin and learn whatever you can tell me
about them. I’ll drive, if it’s all right.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Brandon agreed,
realizing she would be in control of her situation then. Spending the afternoon
with her would be fun and he could get to know her better. Getting into the
car, Kate unlocked the doors and moved her purse. Brandon got in, tossed his
duster in the backseat, and stretched his long legs in front of him. He noticed
that Kate watched him and he smiled to himself. Her light perfume filled the
car, throwing off his train of thought. Laughing to himself at how easily he
was affected, Brandon buckled his seatbelt, as did Kate.

“Can I buy you a coffee before we head out of town?
The drive-through coffee shop near the Branding Iron Inn is run by a friend of
mine.” A large chocolate-almond latte sounded great to Brandon. Kate pulled
into The Pony Espresso, run by Prudy, a good friend of his parents.

“Hi Brandon. Nice to see you again. Where you headed?”

“Out to Whiskey Basin to check out the petroglyphs,”
he said. “Kate is here on vacation and interested in them.”

* * * * *

While she waited for their order, Kate glanced at
Brandon.
The dark T-shirt he wore fit him like a second skin
. She
moistened her lips.

A gorgeous smiled crossed his face. “I feel as though
we’ve already met. It’s uncanny,” he said.

“I don’t want you to think I always allow strangers in
my car, but...I also had that same feeling. I’m comfortable with you. Thank you
for going out to the basin with me.”

The cheerful woman inside passed Kate the hot drinks.
When Brandon took his cup, his fingers happened to cover Kate’s and an electric
shock traveled up her arm, straight to her heart. She nearly jerked her hand
away, and hoped he hadn’t noticed. Those same warm feelings from her dream came
rushing back, the one’s she’d felt when she’d dreamt of the warrior upon his
horse. The similarities between Brandon and the warrior stunned her.

Steam seeped through the hole in the lid. She took
small sips of the delicious latte and headed toward the petroglyphs using
Brandon’s direction.

Kate drove south as she rolled down her window while
current cattle prices echoed from the radio, but her thoughts were on the man
beside her and how fate worked the events in her life lately. “I’d like to be
able to take some valuable information back to the museum with me about the
rock drawings.”

“They are said to be thousands of years old. Some of
the elders still come here for their rituals.”

Clouds filled the afternoon sky. Darker ones floated
above the distant, snow-capped mountains. She could detect rain beneath them,
or possibly snow, forming an eerie mist that cloaked the high mountaintops. Out
here, the weather seemed to change quickly. A sudden drop in temperature cooled
the interior of Kate’s car, making her glad she’d worn a sweatshirt. Her jacket
lay on the back seat should she need it during her walk among the rocks.

She turned right onto the narrow road leading up over
a hill and into a small open meadow filled with tall grasses, sagebrush and
pink, spotted knapweed. This is where she’d seen the painted boulder earlier
and pulled off the trail, parking near the huge rock. The quiet wilderness
cloaked Kate with a sense of serenity as she enjoyed the hot latte. Jagged, red
rocky hills on the right jutted into the sky, some areas being smoothed by
weather over time, others were sharp protruding crags. She wondered if
petroglyphs would be there also.

“This area is filled with ancient drawings.” Brandon
sipped his coffee.

Kate snapped her head around to look at him. Could he
possibly read her thoughts? His seductive voice distracted her. Before he could
see her reaction, she stepped from the SUV. Grabbing her jacket, she shut the
door, and glanced in the opposite direction. Brandon shut his door.

Dead silence.

No horseback riders roamed in the vicinity, not even
antelope or big horn sheep, though a crow cawed in the distance, then quickly
flew away. The wind blew her hair into her face and she brushed it away.

Dark clouds descended over the meadow as the cool wind
increased, and blew through Kate’s sweatshirt, sending chills down her spine.
Setting her cup on the hood of the car, she shrugged into her green canvas
jacket and pulled the collar about her neck.

Brandon looked up. “Storms out here come upon us
fast.”

He now stood beside her, pointing out the area and she
realized how tall he was. “Many of the drawings are up along the higher hills.
You have to go up there if you want to see them, but its well worth the hike.
Tribes would come here and paint their drawings of deer, buffalo and other
tribesmen of their time. Most of these are thousands of centuries old yet have
withstood the weather through centuries. Stories can be put to some paintings
while others depict the fun nature of the Native American and their way of
life.”

“Are there any down here?” Kate asked.

“Some, but you really have to look. Not all the sites
are marked for the tourists. It’s said many lovers also came here to paint
together, to enjoy the serenity of the basin.”

Brandon placed his hand on Kate’s shoulder, leaned
closer and pointed up into the hills at more rock pictures. Kate followed the
direction of his finger while at the same time enjoying his closeness. She took
a step closer to him to see better where he pointed. Peacefulness settled
inside Kate. A comfort level if that was possible with a stranger she’d only
met today.

She strode toward the huge boulder. A four-foot tree
grew not more than ten inches away on the left side, its leaves fluttering in
the wind. “Look, the tree’s branches grow on the opposite side of the rock, yet
none grow next to the boulder, as if it has somehow prevented the tree’s
growth.”

Glancing at the swift-moving dark clouds, Kate pulled
the collar of her jacket tighter around her neck. Wind whipped through the tall
grasses around her, whispering a dangerous message of its own; possibly the
spirits telling her to leave while she could.

“There are many things in this basin that can’t be
explained. Many of my people believe some of the warriors’ spirits still live
here. Can you sense it?”

Dare she tell him that she could definitely feel it?
She listened intently as he told her of the area and his people. She wondered
what it might have been like in this area so many years ago. Brandon interested
her and she wanted to learn more about him. He had a reverence about him as he
talked of his people. She immediately respected him for that. “I can feel
there’s a quiet difference here. It’s almost eerie.”

Stepping toward a stone, she knelt in front of it, and
sat on her heels. Running her fingers up the boulder-side of the small tree
trunk, the smooth bark held no protrusion of previous branches, as though the
tree knew better than to thrust an intruding arm toward the rock. To Kate, a
few of the rock pictures resembled creatures from outer space more than they
did ancient Indian drawings but they were all interesting.

The centuries-old paintings on the granite beckoned
her. She touched the cold, bumpy rock, her fingers caressing the ancient elk
and big horn sheep drawings. Though the force of the cool wind increased, the
stone seemed to grow warm beneath her hand.

Lightning flashed across the sky; thunder boomed in
the distance.

When she placed both hands on the warm petroglyphs, an
immediate dizziness overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes, not understanding
why, but knowing she needed to. A radiating sensation crept up her arms,
questing into her body as if trying to find a perch. She tried to remove her
hands, but couldn’t. They were well and truly stuck. Thunder crackled again and
the wind increased. Her breathing tore through her lungs fast and hard. She
tried to calm herself with sane thoughts of home. This was just a dream. No
more, no less. When stray tendrils of hair stung her face as they escaped her
braid, she had to face reality. This was not a dream.

The dizziness grew, swirling inside her body like an
arrow shot in a circular storm. Higher and higher, faster and faster it swam
insider her. There was no beginning or no end to the torment. The swirling
would keep on going forever unless she could stop it. But how? Her fingers
tightened on the boulder. Was this the strength of the spirits in this basin?
Were they trying to tell her something?
Perhaps to leave the area?
Kate
winced at the sensation drifting over her, depleting her ability to fight off
the impending sense of helplessness. The wind circled around her, and she tried
to open her eyes, to take her hands from the rock again, but the dizziness
pulled her further into its dark abyss. She wanted to cry out for help but her
lips wouldn’t form the words.

She wondered again if it was the warriors’ spirits
taking hold of her. Suddenly the dream images appeared behind her closed eyes.
The warrior beckoned her, but this time nudged his horse and moved toward her.
She could see how blue his eyes were and their gazes connected. She wanted to
know more when it all disappeared with another crack of thunder. No! She had to
see the rest of the dream!

Her mind went blank. She couldn’t pull her hands away
and panic replaced fear. Had she made a mistake in coming here, digging into
something that may be better left alone? Kate chided herself on always wanting
to push the envelope, to know more than perhaps she should be seeking. She should
not have tempted fate by touching the rocks and this was the spirit world’s way
of telling her.

Then still with her eyes closed, visions of an Indian
raid appeared. They attacked a wagon train of settlers, fighting for their
lives, men protecting their women and children. She could almost hear their
screams; almost feel the arrows tear at her flesh.

Then it was too late.

Something hard and unforgiving smashed into her
forehead. The pain was swift and sharp. “Brandon . . .” she cried out in a
hoarse voice. Then the swirling blackness that had tried to consume her finally
did.

She couldn’t seem to sit upright and her head hit
against the rock, blackness consuming her.

1835, Rocky Mountains

Suddenly a mass confusion of guns, flying arrows and hair-raising
screams surrounded Kate as fear exploded in her brain. Raiding Indians attacked
frightened people dressed in pioneer-type clothing, running in all directions.
Arrow-riddled bodies lay scattered around her. Savage war cries rent the
dust-clouded air.

Kate shook her head, bewildered. She’d wake up
shortly, wouldn’t she? The bullets and arrows whizzing by her head seemed so
real, and she stood smack in the middle of it.

Taking a deep breath to control her state of panic,
she glanced all around her. Being abducted by rampaging Indians didn’t appeal
to her, dream or no dream.

Behind her, more screams rose above the confusion
while she ducked to avoid the arrows flying past her. Gunfire from the settlers
made her cover her ears. She needed to find shelter. Quickly scanning the area
again, she spotted covered wagons across the way and dug in the heels of her
snakeskin boots as she sprinted toward them, still dodging arrows and horses
alike. Fear ignited her adrenaline like a stick of dynamite; she had to make it
around the wagon’s far side.

Kate turned her head to see a painted warhorse
galloping toward her. Though she met the mounted warrior’s fierce dark eyes for
the briefest of moments, she would never forget the horrid scar that slashed
through his brow and down his cheek, missing his eye. Holding up his rifle, he
shrieked a battle cry, and urged his horse forward. Kate barely escaped his
far-reaching arm as she ducked and forced herself to run faster. Another
warrior let out a cry as he held up a woman’s bloodied scalp of long dark
hair--his war trophy from among the many dead bodies. She prayed not to be
their next victim.

Darting around the wagon with relief, she leaned
against its solid wooden side, her chest heaving with every breath. Her raw
throat made her cough and she struggled to moisten her dry, dust-coated lips.

Where could she possibly be in this day and age that
Indians would be shooting arrows at her? This had to be another dream, a very
vivid dream, and she wanted it to end. Why was this continuing rather than her
waking up?

She brushed back her hair just in time to see an arrow
being aimed straight toward her. As she jumped away from the wagon, the arrow
slammed into the wood, narrowly missing her shoulder. Now she stood in the
open. The swirling dust choked and blinded her.

From behind, pounding horse hooves vibrated the ground
beneath her boots. A muscular arm snaked out from nowhere, lifted her onto his
horse and back against a rock-hard chest. She twisted her head only to meet the
gaze of the scarred warrior’s.

“Noooo! Put me down!” She kicked and scratched
frantically, but he held fast. She had to wake up from this nightmare, yet the
terror was too real; his chest too hard. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t
scream. Fear gripped her as the horse galloped away amongst five other mounted
warriors while she was jostled about, thinking she’d be tossed and trampled
beneath the massive hooves.

In front of her, arrows penetrated the backs of two of
the warriors, and they fell from their horses. She stretched to look back over
her captor’s shoulder. Two more Indians thundered toward them with bows drawn.
These Indians differed from her captors, but she couldn’t say how.

Kate screamed as the two released their arrows at her
and her captor.

One struck the scarred Indian’s leg, tumbling them
from his horse. The fall knocked the wind from her lungs as she rolled several
times, stunning her, but she somehow managed to get to her feet. Her life
depended on it. She staggered across the open meadow toward the edge of the
forest as fast as she could muster, knowing the other two Indians were close
behind.

In less than five strides, she was lifted onto another
horse, and they galloped off into the trees and up the ascending mountainside.
Her new captors changed direction once they were deep in the woods, and swiftly
traveled along the land, neither climbing, nor descending. Kate dodged branches
as the horse moved through the trees. Foliage gave way to a green, open meadow
again.

She estimated they’d traveled over an hour and not
once had this Indian loosened his hold on her. His warm, bronzed hand splayed
across her stomach, his fingers extending to the other side of her ribs as she
rode in front of him, his hard thighs resting beneath her own.

His nearness created a sense of deja vu, yet that was
absurd. She thought of the stranger in the brown duster, unable to understand
what the two would have in common. Her mind reeled with thoughts and the past
excitement still raced through her body as though she’d just finished a race.
She couldn’t concentrate on anything but being held so close, yet wanting to
escape.

Shaking off the eerie foreboding, she gazed out over
the meadow, tracking their direction. For the moment, Kate rode in silence
until they stopped. Still not a sound could be heard but the rushing of blood
through her veins.

She glanced toward the distant, snow-peaked mountains
where the sun descended, taking with it most of the day’s light and leaving the
promise of a cool evening.

Defeated and scared, she thought about the massacre of
those left behind, of the one whose scalp had been cut away--something she
wouldn’t soon forget. A warm tear slipped down her cheek for those who’d died.
These savages could easily make her their victim and though she had to escape
somehow, she refused to give them a reason to kill her right now. Why was she
forced to endure this? When would she wake up?

Ahead, dense trees hugged the hillsides, yet allowed
for large, open areas of grass and sagebrush to spread invitingly across small
valleys. A herd of buffalo grazed to the left near the river. Their large
numbers amazed her when buffalo were nearly extinct.

She stilled, trying to push away the thought that beat
at her, but it wouldn’t abate.
Could
she have been thrust back in time?
She chewed at the inside of her cheek, feeling the pain yet making it real
enough...as did the hard chest against her back, but certainly it couldn’t be
real. Yet here she was.

Two thoughts nagged at her as she rode within a
stranger’s grasp; alone, with one other warrior, as dusk closed in around them.
As absurd as it sounded, even to her, she could have traveled back through the
passage of time. It frightened her, yet at the same time, excited her. This
familiar feeling she sensed, with the man who now held her and the stranger in
the Mercantile, played havoc with her mind. Perhaps if this was a dream, she’d
now have the answers she sought.

Again, anger tormented her when she thought about the
senseless massacre by the Indians. They hated whites and killed without thought
or mercy, yet here she sat in the arms of a warrior, sensing such a
familiarity. She couldn’t explain it and wanted desperately to know the answer.

When her captors stopped, they were at a spot Kate
assumed had been their current camp. Bedding and skin-pouches sat about the
ground and around the fire pit.

After the man dismounted, she was yanked from the
horse and attempted to yank her arm from his grasp, without success. “I won’t
go with you!”

He laughed at her, then glanced at his friend. His
companion led the horses away, leaving the two of them alone, staring at one
another, though darkness shadowed his eyes. She refused to be the first to back
down, though she knew better, but couldn’t resist.

Dusk settled around them, but she could see he wore a
wide strip of deerskin across his forehead, holding back his long, dark hair
that hung forward, draping over his bare chest. A breechcloth joined fringed
leggings, and beaded moccasins covered his feet. A strip of deerskin stretched
above the muscle of each upper arm, the ties hanging to his elbows.

Apprehensive, she stared back at the warrior as he
observed her jeans and sweatshirt with interest. He knelt down and caressed the
snakeskin of her boot. A smile continued to curve his lips as he shook his
head. Still, shadows covered his eyes.

She waited for him to make the first move.

He did.

He released her arm and walked a few steps away,
heading for the copse of trees, but she didn’t follow. Then he spun around,
pointed up the mountain toward the trees and waited for her to move. She took a
few steps in his direction, so he turned and walked ahead of her.

Immediately, she ran in the opposite direction as fast
as she could; or so she thought. After twenty strides, a muscular arm encircled
her waist and a hand covered her mouth as her feet lifted off the ground.

Damn him!

Kicking and screaming behind his hand, she struggled
as he effortlessly strode into the trees. If she wiggled enough, he’d have to
drop her. She was so enraged at being restrained that she paid little attention
to the path he took.

Since this had to be a dream, she could be as brave as
she wanted, Kate mused. She tried to bite the hand covering her mouth. She’d
had enough!

“Kaisuanten taipo wa’ippe!” Agitation laced his deep voice
as his warm breath touched her ear before depositing her in front of a cold
fire pit.

He’d likely told her to be still. Which she certainly
wouldn’t be doing!

Her heart ceased its beating as his gaze shot through
her. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, there was no mistaking his threat. His
voice created a shiver that ran the length of her spine, tightening every
muscle in her body. Kate struggled for another breath. The image of the warrior
from her dream materialized in her mind. Could it be him? But how would that be
possible? Perhaps her nightmare had been a warning and not one she should have
pursued!

Too late now.

Dismissing the vision, she brushed back stray strands
of hair from her face that had escaped her long, French braid.

She scooted back when the second warrior joined them,
his appearance much the same as the first, though not as tall. This one wore a
beaded, fringed leather shirt.

He pointed at her black jeans and boots. Amused, he
looked at his friend. “Kai kia sotem manankuhten nukkiwa’iyu sukka
tahimahkaute.”

More words she didn’t understand, and though she
refused to look at her captor, Kate sensed his gaze upon her. Again visions of
her warrior filled her mind, confusing her even more since all this seemed so
unreal.

Sore muscles knotted throughout her body from
traveling so far and she scrunched her shoulders in an attempt to relieve the
tension. Despite her weariness, she pushed away any thought of sleep; she had
to stay awake. Prisoners were raped and killed. She had no idea what they
intended to do with her, but knew she had to take the first opportunity to
escape.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her captor open a
pouch, pull out a piece of dried meat, then grab a blanket. He dropped the
blanket at her feet and held the food out to her. Kate took it, the hunger in
her stomach being greater than her pride at the moment. Tired and hungry, she
would have eaten anything. The tough meat forced her to tug at it with her
teeth, yet the flavor surprised her; it actually tasted good.

She watched with caution as the men built a fire, and
then ate their portions of meat as they conversed. While the friend talked with
her captor, his gaze kept drifting back to her, and he almost appeared to be
enjoying this. Kate met the dark gaze of the shorter Indian and stiffened her
back. “What do you intend to do with me?”

He glanced from her to his companion and back, though
his handsome friend had yet to raise his dark lashes in her direction.

“Is he afraid to speak for himself?” She ignored them
both for a moment and again sank her teeth into the delicious meat, wrenching
off another piece. The succulent flavor of the course meat made her mouth water
as she kept her gaze trained on the man across from her. The dark gaze of her
captor’s friend left hers for only a moment to eye his companion, who had stood
and now faced the looming, snow-capped mountains ahead, staring into the night.

With her legs crossed, Kate rested her wrists on her
knees and glared at the man still sitting. “What do you want with me?”

“Ne kai en tsaya’a. Usen kai nean tenimmapaianna.”

She didn’t understand his nonchalant reply. “Do you
think I’m going to go up into those mountains with the two of you without a
fight?”

Only a deep chuckle reverberated from his chest.

Frustrated and sore, she finished her meal, then
wrapped the blanket about her shoulders. The warrior across from her rose to
retrieve his blanket from a stiff-skinned pouch, and returned to the other side
of the fire to bed down for the night.

He waved his hand in her direction. “Eppeikku. Imaa
tammen nahato’i so’i.”

She assumed he gave her an order to sleep, which, of
course, she would ignore.

Kate glanced at the other warrior. He stood with his
broad shoulders straight and tall, never once turning to see what the argument
might be between her and his friend. Then he raised his arms, fingers reaching
toward the heavens and began to chant in a low voice, the sound of which sent
another chill shivering down her spine at the near similarity.