Savage Tempest (5 page)

“Then what changed your mind?” Joylynn asked, clenching and unclenching her hands as she tried to think of something she might say, or do, that would convince him what he was doing was wrong.

She was horrified to hear that he planned to take her horse! Without Swiftie, she would be alone in the world. She would no longer have a companion, nor a means to get supplies.

But none of that seemed to matter now, for she knew that this warrior was not going to change his mind about taking her.

“Pack your things,” High Hawk said more determinedly, shoving the bag in Joylynn's arms. “I know it will be hard enough to live among my people without having anything with you that is yours.”

Joylynn's eyes widened at his show of consideration for her. Could he be a different breed of Indian? No, not only of Indian, but of man?

Or was it just a ploy to make her begin to trust in him?

But no matter how she tried to figure this man out, the fact remained that he was taking her as his captive. Surely in his mind she now belonged to him, and he would feel free to do whatever he chose to her.

She sighed heavily, for she knew that she had no choice but to do as he said. Still, she would find a way to get free at her first opportunity. Neither this
Indian nor his friend had eyes in the back of their heads.

She doubted now that there were any others out there in the dark, or surely they would have come and joined the first two.

Fighting off her fear of what the future held for her, Joylynn hurried around the cabin, grabbing those clothes that were the most comfortable for her now that she was pregnant. She hoped the loose dresses would help hide her pregnancy for as long as possible from the Indians with whom she would be living.

She shoved these dresses in her bag along with her hairbrush and some underthings.

She gazed up at High Hawk, finding it strange that this man was being kind to her on one hand, by allowing her to take some of her things with her, yet cruel, too, since he was taking her captive.

High Hawk stood there watching her; then something caught his eye. It looked like a strange sort of weapon, but what were those two eyes on it?

He went to the table and picked up the strange apparatus, turning it from side to side as he studied it.

Joylynn saw his interest in it. “What you are holding is called binoculars,” she said, hoping to get on his good side by being friendly.

“What does it do?” he asked, glancing at Joylynn, and then again studying the binoculars. “Shoot? How do you load it?”

Joylynn realized he knew absolutely nothing about binoculars. She laughed softly, hoping he would not think she was mocking him.

“It isn't a weapon,” she said. “Put it to your eyes. Look through it. Look at one thing in particular. Can you see how it seems to magnify what you are looking at?”

She was relieved when he didn't seem offended by her laughter, but instead looked through the lenses as she'd suggested.

“Take it with you,” she murmured. “You might find it of value one of these days.”

High Hawk lowered the binoculars from his eyes.

Surprised by her generousity, especially since she was his captive, he held the binoculars in his hand a moment. Thinking she was somehow trying to trick him, he started to place the binoculars back on the table.

Then, too intrigued by them, he changed his mind and slipped the long strap they hung from around his neck.

Pleased that he had decided to take the binoculars, Joylynn lifted her bag and stepped outside with him.

When she saw her breech-loading rifle still on the ground, only a few feet from her, she thought she might have found the opportunity to escape that she'd been looking for.

She took a quick step toward it, but High Hawk quickly saw what she was trying to do and grabbed up the rifle himself.

Her heart pounded as she wondered how he would react. Joylynn gazed nervously into his eyes, where the moonlight glowed in the dark depths, then turned her head away when she heard the whinny of her horse. The other Indian led Swiftie to her, saddled and ready for traveling.

“Take your horse's reins,” High Hawk commanded. He took her bag from her. “Come with me.”

She glanced around to see what the other Indian was doing. But he was already lost to sight, invisible in the darkness of the forest.

They went into the forest and walked until they came upon Three Bears, who was already on his horse, holding the reins of High Hawk's mount. He held them out for High Hawk as he stepped up to him.

“Mount your steed now,” High Hawk said over his shoulder to Joylynn, swinging himself upon his saddle. “Come now with me and Three Bears. The others await us.”

Joylynn's heart skipped a beat at hearing that there were others. Being with two Indians was frightening enough; she had no desire to be in the company of many.

But she had no choice except to continue doing as he told her. She mounted Swiftie and rode onward with the two Indians, one of whom she now knew to be called Three Bears.

She glanced over at the other Indian, wondering what his status was among his people.

Was he someone of great importance, or just another warrior under the command of a powerful chief?

When they reached the butte, Joylynn went cold inside when she saw how many Indians were there, awaiting the arrival of the other two.

When they all raked their eyes over her, she could not help shivering.

And then she saw the number of horses that were with these Indians. It was obvious they had been on a horse raid. She wondered if these Indians were Sioux, or of the more friendly Pawnee tribe.

If these were Pawnee and they had stolen horses from the Sioux, the owners would be even now searching for their stolen steeds; she could die alongside her abductor.

Or she might be taken captive by the Sioux. She knew how the Sioux felt about white people; she had learned while riding for the Pony Express. She had been told by those in charge to be especially wary of the Sioux since they were on the warpath more often than not. She knew that there would be no kindness granted her by them.

She eyed the handsome Indian, beginning to believe that she would be better off with him than with the Sioux. His kindness toward her attested to that.

But she had to remind herself that there were many hours ahead of her during which the situation
could change. This warrior might be showing her kindness now, only to fool her into letting down her guard, so that later he could have his way with her!

“Stay close beside me as we ride to my village,” High Hawk said, giving Joylynn a friendly smile that made her feel somewhat less afraid. Sternly she reminded herself that she must not trust him.

One rape in a woman's life was surely all a body could take!

Wishing that she was brave enough to knee her horse and try to escape from her captor, Joylynn glanced over at the handsome Indian as he rode straight-backed on his steed. She had caught him glancing oftimes at her horse, and remembered that he had said he had originally come to steal Swiftie, then added her to his plan of abduction.

She looked over her shoulder at the many warriors riding behind them, their eyes straight ahead. Fortunately, they were paying her no mind, at least not at the moment. The only one who seemed truly interested in her was the one who had grabbed her and taken her inside her cabin.

She was relieved that so far he hadn't done anything worse than abduct her. Had she been raped a second time, she would have wanted to die.

But as it was, this warrior seemed not to have rape on his mind at all, but instead, kindness toward
her. Still, he wasn't kind enough to listen to reason when she pleaded to be released.

She tried not to think about what lay ahead of her, but just to take one moment at a time. Soon enough she would know what his true intentions were.

“I am High Hawk of the Wolf band of Pawnee,” High Hawk suddenly said as he looked over at her. “And your name is?”

“My name is none of your business,” Joylynn said bitterly. Angrily she lifted her chin, refusing to look at him. But inside she was relieved to know that she was definitely in the company of the Pawnee, not the Sioux.

She looked far to the right, where the trees grew thick and dark, knowing that anyone could be hiding in their depths . . . even the Sioux. If those were Sioux horses that had been stolen tonight, surely their owners would discover the theft and come to take revenge on the thieves.

She looked quickly at High Hawk again. “In my world, men hang for stealing horses,” she blurted out, bringing his eyes quickly back to her. “I wonder if your decision to indulge yourselves in the adventure of stealing those horses will be the cause of your demise.”

“Horse stealing is not all for adventure,” High Hawk said defensively, his jaw tight. “It is an accepted means of acquiring respect among my people. A man's wealth is measured by his horses.
They are essential in the hunt, our means of acquiring food, clothes and shelter. Horse stealing is also necessary to offset thefts of Pawnee horses. The survival of our whole tribe depends on having enough horses so that our warriors can protect the women and children.”

“Yes, you can make all sorts of excuses for what you have done tonight, but I still believe it is wrong to take another man's possessions,” Joylynn argued back. “And worse yet, you stole
me
. . . a human being. What can you say to try to convince me that is right?”

“You were in the path of the moon tonight, and so it was meant for me to take you to my home,” High Hawk said matter-of-factly.

“What . . . ?” Joylynn gasped. “I have never heard such hogwash as that. The moon led you to me? What else will you allow yourself to think to make what you did to me right in your eyes?”

“Hogwash?” High Hawk said, raising an eyebrow. “What is this word . . . ‘hogwash'?”

Joylynn's lips parted. She gazed back at him, stunned that such a powerful man should be so innocent in some ways.

“Hogwash is a term used when one wants to say that what has been said is foolish, even . . . stupid . . .” Joylynn said, her voice not as accusing now, for the longer she was with this man, the more alluring she found him.

“That word ‘stupid' is new to me, as well,” High Hawk said, glancing away from her when he saw the shine of a stream to their left.

“I doubt that you would want to hear my explanation of that word, especially how it applies to you,” Joylynn said, her eyes following his. She, too, saw the glimmer of the water.

“I'm thirsty,” she blurted out, hoping that if he stopped and allowed her to dismount long enough to get a drink, she might find a way to distract him and flee into the dark, where she could hide.

High Hawk looked quickly at her, then over his shoulder at the horses that he and his warriors had stolen. They needed watering, as well.

He gazed at Joylynn again. “We will stop for a while,” he said. “Not so much for you as for the horses. They need to be watered.”

Joylynn realized that he did not want to appear to be catering to her wishes, but that didn't matter to her. All she wanted was the right moment when she could slip away, perhaps while he was focused on leading the horses to the water.

Although she knew that her chances of getting away were slim, she could not rest until she at least tried.

He stopped and shouted to his men that he wanted to water the horses. Then he went on with Joylynn until they came to the stream. “Dismount, but stay close,” he ordered. “You will be foolish to think that you can get far, should you decide to run.”

Realizing that he'd seen right through her ploy, she had to accept that she wasn't going anywhere tonight, except with him. She sighed and nodded.

“Come with me,” High Hawk said as he suddenly lifted her from her saddle.

His hands at her waist were strong but gentle. As he took her from her horse, the closeness of their bodies, the heat of his breath on her face, awoke a feeling Joylynn had never experienced before. It was a strange sort of thrill that shook her from her head to her toes.

And when their eyes met and held as he placed her on the ground, Joylynn caught her breath. There was something in his eyes that told her she was much more than his captive. She could tell that he was as intrigued by her as she was by him.

She looked quickly away, for she knew that it was foolish to think of him with anything but loathing. This was the man who had come to her in the night and uprooted her from the refuge she had made for herself.

He had changed everything for her, and she wasn't sure now where it all would end, especially once he realized that he had abducted a pregnant woman.

She looked back at him just as he stepped away from her. He went to his horse and got something from his travel bag.

He came back to her and held it out.

“This is
wasna
,” he explained. “I always take
wasna
with me. It is very nourishing and easily carried. Take some. Eat. It will give you energy.”

“And what makes you think I need energy?” Joylynn demanded, placing her fists on her hips in a defiant pose. “Do I look weak?”

“No, but it is the middle of the night and a time when you would be asleep normally, not traveling,” High Hawk said, placing a piece of the
wasna
in her hand. “Take. Eat. Then come with me to the water for a drink.”

She stood her ground and stared curiously at what looked like a piece of cake in her hand. Then she questioned him with her eyes.

“
Wasna
is made by the Pawnee women,” he said, understanding her hesitance. “It is meat pounded with chokeberries and pressed like white people's cheese so that it remains nourishing and wholesome for long periods of time.”

He broke off a piece and ate it, nodded at her, and was glad when she trusted him enough to eat what he had given her.