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Authors: Cassie Edwards

BOOK: Savage Courage
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Surely upon Mountain Jack’s return, he planned to rape, then scalp her.

Realizing that lingering at the cabin for much longer might endanger them both, Storm looked high and low for the key.

He didn’t find it inside the cabin.

“I shall look outside,” he said, walking toward the door. “He would not leave it where you could find it easily.”

Shoshana sat back down on the floor before the fire as Storm stepped out into the moonlight.

His gaze swept slowly over everything, then fell upon a small shed that hugged the cabin not far from the front door.

He went there. It was dark, so he could only feel with his hands.

He smiled victoriously when he found several keys on a ring which hung from a nail on the wall beneath a layer of old pelts.

Smiling, he took the ring of keys into the cabin.

“Perhaps the one we are looking for is here,” he said, setting his rifle against a wall.

He knelt before Shoshana.

One by one he tried the keys, then smiled into her lustrously dark eyes as the chain finally fell away from her wrist.

“Thank goodness,” Shoshana sighed. She rubbed
her raw wrist and smiled at Storm as he unwrapped the chain from around her waist. “Thank you so much. Had you not came along, I . . . I . . . am not certain what my final fate would have been.”

“But I
am
here and you
are
free,” Storm said as he grabbed his rifle, amazed that the lie about her being free slipped across his lips so easily . . . lips that never lied.

He felt guilty over what he was planning to do with her, when she was so sweetly sincere about thanking him for having freed her.

But he must block everything from his mind except the vengeance he had waited so long to achieve.

“You did not tell me when I asked what name you go by,” Storm said, stepping out into the moonlight and looking guardedly around them for any sign of the scalp hunter’s return.

“Shoshana,” she murmured. “It is the name I was given as a child by my mother. The man who took me from my mother allowed me to keep the name, but only because his wife, who has long since passed away, loved its prettiness.”

She paused, then took his free hand in hers. “It was destiny that brought us together tonight,” she said, her eyes searching his. “The scalp hunter unknowingly led me to the very man I was searching for.”

“You were searching for me?” Storm asked, raising an eyebrow.

His flesh felt hot where her hand held his. He could not help feeling so much for her that he wished to deny.

But when she was so close, her hand in his, her eyes so hauntingly beautiful, her body so enticing, he suddenly remembered his sister’s warnings. She had told him about a woman . . . an Apache woman who had betrayed her people by living as white.

But Storm now knew that Shoshana was not a woman guilty of betrayal. She had been forced to live with the white-eyes. She had never had a role in her own destiny . . . until now.

From the moment George Whaley had abducted Shoshana, he had had full control of her life.

Well, now that had changed. Storm had just made Shoshana’s destiny his.

He put his sister’s warnings in the farthest recesses of his mind. This woman had come to Arizona for a reason. She was sent to him by
Maheo
, the Great Spirit, to help Storm finally achieve the vengeance that he had sought since the day of his people’s massacre.

“Your name is known well among whites,” Shoshana said, interrupting his thoughts. “I was told of your courage and how you have kept your band safe high up the mountain in your stronghold. You
are admired for your dedication to your people, and for the way you have kept peace between them and the whites.”

She paused, then said, “You
will
take me to your home, won’t you?” she asked, her eyes wide. “It has been so long since I have been among my own kind. I have ached for such an opportunity as this.”

“Yes, I will take you,” he said quietly. Little did she know that she would be taken not as a free woman, but as a captive.

“We must hurry now,” Storm said as he gently took Shoshana by the arm, ushering her away from the cabin.

Shoshana felt no fear, only hope, and something even more. She was intrigued by everything about this man. She had never felt such a strong attraction to any other man. Chief Storm made her come alive inside where she had never known such feelings existed.

She hoped that she was right to trust him, as well as her feelings for him.

Chapter Twelve

 

Does there within the dimmest dreams
A possible future shine?

—Adelaide Anne Procter

“The wolves,” Storm said, stopping beside their pen. “Gray wolves should never be imprisoned. They are the spirit of the wilderness.”

“Mountain Jack mates them and raises their young for pelts that he sells to the same people who buy scalps from him,” Shoshana said. She watched the younger ones romp and play in the moonlight. Except for one. It stood apart, much thinner than the others, trembling visibly. “It looks like one of the pups isn’t all that strong, or well.”

“I shall release them, all except for the one that is
not strong enough to be set free,” Storm said, already stepping toward the gate.

“What are you going to do with it?” Shoshana asked, taking a step away from the pen. “And . . . and . . . is it safe to set any of them free? How do you know they won’t attack us?”

“They are smart animals,” Storm said, slowly lifting the latch that held the gate closed. “They will take advantage of their freedom. They will not take the time even to look at us, much less attack us. They have been penned up for a long time. They are as anxious to taste freedom as you were when you were chained up in the cabin.”

Shoshana heard what he said, but, still unsure whether to trust his judgement about the wolves, she took another step away from them.

She watched as one by one they ran to freedom.

Shoshana marveled how one grown wolf stayed with the weak one and tried to nudge it with its nose to get it to leave the pen.

But the tiny one was not convinced. Its legs wobbled. It gazed wistfully into the eyes of the older one, which Shoshana now assumed was its mother.

“The mother won’t leave the pup behind,” Shoshana said, amazed at the dedication and love the mother had for its pup, especially when freedom beckoned.

“It must,” Storm said. He went inside the pen. He looked directly into the eyes of the older wolf.

It seemed to Shoshana that they were communicating in some mystical, silent way.

She gasped with awe when the wolf stepped closer to Storm, nuzzled his hand with its nose, then gave its pup a long, last look and left the pen, yapping as it ran to catch up with the others.

“You seemed to be communicating with one another,” Shoshana said, moving to Storm’s side. “And . . . and . . . she actually left her pup behind, apparently in your care.”

“I have talked often to animals, as they talk to me,” Storm said. He bent low and gathered up the tiny, weak pup in his arms, cuddling it close to his chest.

“Will you take the pup to your village to care for it?” Shoshana asked as Storm carried it away from the pen.

“Yes, it will be a part of my people until it is well enough to be released back to the wild,” Storm said. He nodded to the horse tied at the hitching rail. “Mount the steed. We must not delay any longer.”

Overjoyed to be leaving that filthy cabin behind, Shoshana didn’t hesitate to mount the horse.

After Storm secured the wolf pup in the bag at the side of his horse, where only its face was exposed, he mounted his own steed and, together, he and Shoshana rode from the cabin.

“How far do we have to travel before reaching your stronghold?” Shoshana asked, suddenly realizing just how tired she was, and hungry.

She was also beginning to feel guilty for not having asked to be taken to the fort so that George Whaley would know she was all right.

Yet part of her rejoiced in her freedom from him. In a very real way, his love had kept her a prisoner. She was free for the first time since that day when her entire world had been torn apart.

“It is quite a distance, but if you grow too tired along the way, we can stop and rest. It would be best to continue onward until we reach the safety of the stronghold,” Storm said.

They traveled through the narrow canyon, then through the thick aspen forest, and started up a narrow pass, with a steep drop-off at one side.

Shoshana didn’t feel the danger of the drop-off. In fact, she felt as though she were home. She felt completely safe with this man.

Staying close by his side, she glanced over at him. She admired his splendid panther-skin saddle. She admired him. He had such poise . . . such dignity of character!

“Are you married?” Shoshana suddenly blurted out, then blushed when she saw his stunned expression.

She was surprised at herself for being so inquisitive. She started to apologize, but didn’t, for she truly did want to know if he was married or not.

“No, I am not married,” Storm said slowly. “My life is too full of responsibilities. I have not wanted any others . . . until today.”

“What do you mean by that?” Shoshana dared ask. “What is different about today?”

He looked over at her. Her eyes met his in the soft moonlight.

“You,” he said thickly.

She was taken off guard by his answer, and wondered if she should be afraid.

“Why . . . me . . . ?” she murmured, knowing that he must be able to see the blush on her copper cheeks, with the moon’s glow rendering the night so much like day.

“Because I must see to your safety,” Storm said, lying again.

Trying to hide her disappointment, Shoshana turned her eyes quickly away from Storm. She had been foolish to think that she might be something more than a responsibility to Storm.

They had only just met!

But Storm was thinking to himself that until today he hadn’t wanted such a responsibility as a wife, nor the sadness of losing one.

But now? He was attracted to Shoshana in ways he had never felt before.

But he must keep reminding himself that she was there for only one reason. To achieve a vengeance that had eaten away at his gut since that day he had buried his mother and father.

Suddenly the screech of a panther split the still night air.

Only now was Storm reminded of why he had left his stronghold this morning.

It was not to take a woman captive.

It was to search for a dangerous panther.

He yanked his rifle from its gunboot and searched both sides of the trail.


Ish-tia-nay
, stay close by me,” he said.

The wolf pup let out a tiny growl, as though even it sensed the panther’s nearness.

“Silence, Gray Wolf,” Storm said, releasing his reins long enough to drop the flap down over the pup’s head and curious eyes.

“I’m so afraid,” Shoshana said, visibly trembling. “I have never seen a panther before, but I know they are killers.”

“Not always,” Storm said quietly. “But once a panther has tasted human blood, it does become a killer that must be dealt with.”

“You seem to be very wary of this particular panther,” Shoshana said, edging her horse even closer to Storm’s.

“I was on a hunt for the panther when I spied you and the scalp hunter earlier in the afternoon,” Storm said. “That is how I knew where to search for you.”

“So it was you making that reflection in the sun,” Shoshana said, then gasped and looked quickly upward.

She froze when she saw the panther.

It was on a limb directly above her, gazing down at her with piercing green eyes, its sleek body covered by a beautiful bluish-black coat. It was whipping its tail back and forth against its sides and clawing great pieces of bark from the limb.

It screeched again, and before Storm saw it and could take aim with his rifle, it leapt away to a higher bluff, the action causing Shoshana’s horse to bolt. Snorting, the horse slipped and lost its footing, throwing Shoshana from the saddle.

She screamed in terror as she felt herself being thrown over the side of the cliff.

Chapter Thirteen

 

If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired and got,
’Twas a dream of thee.

—John Donne

Storm’s heart leapt with fear when he saw Shoshana thrown from her horse, and then fall out of sight, down the side of the cliff.

His pulse racing, he slid his rifle back inside the gunboot at the side of his horse, then dismounted and fell to his belly so he could lean over the side of the cliff. He found Shoshana hanging from a limb, her legs dangling.

The moonlight revealed her wide eyes gazing in desperation up at him.

Suddenly Storm saw something else. Far below him, so far away they looked like tiny ants, were soldiers making camp around a huge, blazing campfire. Should they look up, would the bright light of the moon reveal Shoshana to them?

But knowing that saving her life was the most important thing now, he looked back into her eyes. “Hang on a moment longer,” he said reassuringly. “I will save you.”

“My hands . . . hurt . . . I’m not sure how long I can last,” Shoshana cried, her heart pounding so hard, she felt as though her chest might burst.

Storm quickly got a rope from his horse and tied it to his steed, then handed the other end down to Shoshana. “Grab the rope,” he said, holding it fast.

After a moment of paralyzing fear, she dared to grab the rope with one hand and then the other. She held on with both hands as Storm pulled her to safety with the aid of his horse.

But just as she got on solid ground, stretched out on her back, breathing hard, she felt as though the earth was rocking and heaving beneath her.

It gave a sharp turn, and seemed to keep right on turning. When she looked around, everything seemed to be upside down, the sky under her.

And then she fell into a black void of unconsciousness.

“Shoshana?” Storm gasped when he saw her eyes
suddenly close. It was then that he saw a large lump on her brow and realized that she had apparently hit the rock face as she fell.

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