‘‘Amy!’’ Loretta ran across the lodge. ‘‘Darling, wake up!’’
Amy’s eyes opened. She stiffened immediately. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’
Loretta grabbed her arm and hauled her off the bed. ‘‘We have to get out of here!’’
The little remaining color in Amy’s face drained away. ‘‘Why? I don’t wanna leave without Hunter. There’s Comanches out there! Hundreds of ’em.’’
Loretta didn’t want to frighten Amy. The poor child had been through enough. ‘‘Just trust me, love. We have to leave.’’
Too agitated to think about food or water for the trip, she grasped Amy’s hand and half dragged her to the door. Peering out to be certain no one at the fire was watching, Loretta ducked under the flap, pulling Amy along behind her. As quickly as she could, she circled the tepee so it would block them from view.
‘‘I think that Injun saw us,’’ Amy cried shakily.
Loretta glanced around wildly and spied Red Buffalo walking toward the central fire. If he had seen them, he gave no indication. ‘‘We have to reach the horses. It’s quite a ways, Amy. Can you make it?’’
Amy swayed on her feet, nodding. Loretta struck off, one arm stretched out behind her to pull Amy, her other hand holding up her skirts so she wouldn’t trip. After what seemed an eternity, they reached the edge of the village. Loretta sent up a prayer of thanks-giving. Then Amy began to slow her steps. Loretta glanced back to see if she was okay. The child’s face was pasty. ‘‘Honey, are you all right?’’
Amy stumbled and nearly fell. ‘‘I just feel funny.’’
With that pronouncement, Amy pitched forward. Loretta barely caught her in time. With a strength she didn’t know she had, she managed to keep Amy on her feet by leaning into her. She had passed out. Frantic, Loretta had no choice but to carry her. Shoving her shoulder against the girl’s stomach, she straightened. The dead weight nearly buckled her legs. She staggered, regained her balance, and stumbled in the direction of the horses.
A hundred yards later, Loretta stepped on her skirt and crashed to her knees. Amy rolled off her and flopped on the ground. It took all Loretta’s strength to lift Amy again and throw her over her shoulder. She staggered forward, praying. She had to make it to the horses. She just had to. Before Hunter realized she was gone.
The moment Hunter saw Red Buffalo walking toward him, he knew something had happened to Loretta. Nothing else would make him look so smug. In the middle of his speech, Hunter broke off and glanced toward his lodge, his chest constricting around a knot of fear. Red Buffalo drew near, his smile widening.
‘‘Your woman tries to flee,’’ Red Buffalo snarled. ‘‘She makes a lie of her promise to you, eh? It is just as I said. She can never be one with the People. Never! She is an easop, liar, and unworthy. She has made a fool of you, cousin!’’
A hush fell over the crowd. Hunter tightened his legs around his stallion and picked up the reins. ‘‘Which direction did she go?’’
‘‘Toward the horses. Where else? Whose will she kill this time, eh?’’
Hunter kicked his stallion’s flanks, biting down on a roar of sheer outrage. She had given him her God promise! Was nothing sacred to the White Eyes? As he rode out of the village, Hunter heard another horse pounding up behind him. He glanced back to see Swift Antelope coming up fast on his sorrel.
Seconds later Hunter spotted Loretta. She was carrying Amy, bent under the weight, scarcely able to lift her feet. He reined in his black, struggling to sort and make sense of his emotions. Anger, yes, but pain as well, a pain that ran so deep he could scarcely bear it. She had used him, and now she meant to flee, her many promises forgotten. From the very beginning she had planned to leave him as soon as he brought her the child. Hunter could tolerate many things, but being made to look the fool wasn’t one of them.
Swift Antelope drew up beside him. ‘‘Hunter, what are you going to do?’’
‘‘Teach her not to make lies!’’
Swift Antelope watched the yellow-hair struggling to carry the smaller girl. Seconds later she lost her balance and sprawled in the dirt. He winced. Glancing at Hunter, he raised an eyebrow. Hunter kept his horse reined in, his gaze pinned to the woman. Swift Antelope sighed. That glitter in his friend’s eyes boded ill. The woman struggled frantically to lift the girl again. Twice she dropped her. Then, at last, she managed to drape her over her shoulder. She plodded forward a few more steps before her legs buckled and she slammed into the ground.
Swift Antelope leaned forward on his horse, his attention on the younger girl, remembering how fiercely she had fought him that long-ago morning at her wooden walls. A protective feeling welled inside him.
‘‘Ai-ee,’’ he exclaimed. ‘‘We’d better stop her, Hunter. If your woman drops the one called Aye-mee again, she may be badly hurt.’’
Hunter kicked his horse into a run. Swift Antelope had never seen Hunter kick his horse like that, never.
As they rode up behind the two yellow-hairs, Loretta jerked the knife from Amy’s sheath. Hunter flashed Swift Antelope a grim smile. ‘‘Are you ready for a fight?’’
Swift Antelope rolled his eyes. ‘‘If she doesn’t lay herself open first.’’
Hunter swung off his horse and strode toward his woman. She stepped between him and Amy, holding the knife high, shaking so badly that he was surprised she didn’t drop it. He kept advancing on her, growing more furious by the second.
‘‘Stay back, Hunter! I mean it! She’s been through enough! I won’t let you hurt her any more, do you hear me?’’
Hunter’s rage magnified. After all he had done, she dared accuse him of harming Amy? He slowed his pace. He had expected defiance. Instead Loretta was quivering, so frightened that she could barely stand. He drew to a stop, studying her. As angry as he was, he wasn’t blind. He had no idea why she had tried to run, but whatever the reason, she was too frightened to see beyond it.
‘‘Blue Eyes—’’
‘‘Don’t call me that. My name’s Loretta. You can’t fool me anymore with your pet names and gentle act. I know the truth.’’
Hunter considered that for a moment. ‘‘You will tell me this truth, eh?’’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘‘Stop it! Stop it, do you hear me? I know, Hunter. I know it all—why you taught me how to track you, why you left me the horse and medallion. How could you? How could you?’’ He started toward her, and she made a jab with the knife. ‘‘Don’t do it! I’ll kill you. I will!’’ She swallowed, glancing toward Swift Antelope, then back at Hunter. ‘‘You said you were my friend! And, God help me, I believed you!’’
Hunter held up a hand. ‘‘Do not swing at the air, Blue Eyes. The blade is long. You will gut yourself.’’
‘‘I’ll gut you, you miserable bastard!’’
Hunter folded his arms across his chest, regarding her with a bewildered frown. ‘‘I bring you the child. This is not good?’’
‘‘Was it hard finding her?’’ she cried. ‘‘Where did Santos agree to meet you?’’ Her face twisted. ‘‘You let them rape a twelve-year-old. A twelve-year-old, Hunter!’’
Hunter’s gaze slid to the knife, then back to her face. Someone had been making lies to her, and he had a good idea who. ‘‘Santos is dead.’’
‘‘You lie!’’
‘‘I make no lie. This Comanche killed him.’’
‘‘Amy says you took her and rode out. That Santos called you his good friend.’’
‘‘Those were his words, not mine. I returned—after Aye-mee slept. She does not know, eh? The scalp is in my bags.’’
He inched toward her, alert to her every move. She lifted the knife higher.
‘‘Stay back!’’ she cried.
‘‘I come. Choose your mark, Blue Eyes, and drive the blade deep. You have one strike.’’ When he was within arm’s reach of her, she made a lunge, arcing the knife at his chest. Hunter deflected the blow, swallowing down cold, mind-numbing anger. She meant to kill him? No mat
ter how frightened she was, he couldn’t believe it of her, couldn’t believe how much the realization hurt him. He wrested the weapon from her hands and tossed it to Swift Antelope, tempted to shake her until her teeth rattled. After all he had done, how dare she turn on him?
‘‘Take Aye-mee to my mother’s lodge, Swift Antelope.’’
Loretta staggered backward, holding her arms out to keep him away from the unconscious child. ‘‘No! Stay away from her. She stays with me.’’
‘‘Not this night,’’ Hunter snarled. ‘‘You have a bargain to keep, eh?’’
She shrank from his outstretched hand. ‘‘To hell with our bargain, you animal! I’ll die before I let you put your filthy hands on me.’’
‘‘Then sing your death song.’’
With that, he grabbed Loretta’s wrist, jerked her half off her feet, and proceeded to drag her behind him toward his horse.
Chapter 19
LORETTA’S ONE THOUGHT DURING THE RIDE back to the lodge was to reach Amy. She fought to escape Hunter’s grasp and throw herself off the horse, but she soon discovered that fighting him was useless. He guided the horse with his legs, which left his arms free to restrain her, one clamped around her waist, the other engaged in holding her wrists so she couldn’t strike him.
When they reached his lodge and Hunter leaped from the horse, sweeping her off with him and somehow managing to keep her clasped firmly in one arm, she knew the battle was lost. Digging in her heels, she strove to slow his advance on the doorway, but the force of his body swept her along before him like flotsam on a wave. Amy’s plight took second seat. If Loretta once entered that lodge, she might never emerge, and then both she and Amy would be doomed.
Behind them Loretta heard voices, coming closer and closer. Were some of those people going to follow Hunter inside? A sob broke from her throat when Hunter ducked beneath the door flap with no more difficulty than if she were an intractable child squirming in his grasp.
Never had she seen him this angry, not even the night she had injured his horse. She knew it was because she had lunged at him with the knife. But what choice had he given her? Was she to stand there and meekly accept whatever fate he visited upon her?
The interior of the lodge had grown darker, the edges shadowy and threatening. Hunter strode toward the bed, his long legs eating up the distance so quickly that she grew frantic. Thinking he meant to rape her, or worse, Loretta twisted in his arms to press a frontal attack, succeeding only in accommodating him when he fell with her in a full-length sprawl onto the furs.
Blanketed by his broad chest, she couldn’t move her torso, and before she could gather her wits to kick, he anchored her legs with his thigh. A blow to his face was likewise foiled when he captured both her wrists with one hand. She lay beneath him, chest heaving from exertion, her breath coming in short, painful gasps. He wasn’t even winded. She strained against him, praying for strength, finding none.
Seconds passed, fraught with tension. His dark face hovered above hers, stern and implacable, his features cast into harsh relief by the shadows. She couldn’t save herself, and she couldn’t save Amy.
He said nothing, did nothing, just stared down at her, his lips drawn into a relentless line. The longer she stared up at him, the bigger and more intimidating he seemed and the more breathlessly frightened she became. When she could bear the agony no longer, she cried, ‘‘What are you waiting for? Do it! Do it, blast you, do it!’’
His grip tightened on her wrists. With agonizing slowness, he grasped the bodice of her dress, his glittering gaze locked on hers. Her breath caught when she felt his arm tense. He intended to rip the dress off her. One look into his eyes told her that and more. He would show her no clemency this time. And she would plead for none. At least not for herself.
‘‘I trusted you,’’ she cried. ‘‘I trusted you.’’
The pain in her voice sliced through Hunter’s anger as nothing else might have. His gaze sharpened on hers as he remembered the accusations she had made a few moments ago and his certainty that Red Buffalo had filled her head with lies. Glancing down, he realized just how close he was to behaving like the animal she had accused him of being. ‘‘Blue Eyes, you will say to me this great truth you know. Namiso, now!’’
‘‘I’m finished playing your games. Finished, do you hear?’’
‘‘It will be finished when I have said it.’’ Loretta had never heard such venom in his tone. He made a visible effort to calm down, gentling his grip on her wrists and easing some of his weight off her. Relief flooded through her when he released his hold on her bodice. ‘‘No harm. You will make talk with me.’’
A wave of uncertainty coursed over her. He sounded so sincere. Only with great difficulty did she recall Amy’s recounting of her rescue. She closed her eyes. ‘‘Oh, Hunter, why have you done this? Does your hatred run so deep? A twelve-year-old.’’
‘‘My cousin, Red Buffalo, has said false words to you? If this is so, you will tell me.’’
‘‘As if you don’t know what he told me!’’
‘‘You made a lie of your promise and tried to flee, this is what I know! You came at me with a knife, this is what I know! You made me look the fool, this is what I know.’’
‘‘Oh, yes, you’re the man whose words are drifting on the wind, whispering to him always! The man who never lies! I saw you out there at the fire! How stupid do you think I am?’’
Grinding out the words between clenched teeth, he said, ‘‘Why did you make a lie of your promise?’’
‘‘Why wouldn’t I? A little girl, Hunter? Animal! Aunt Rachel was right all along. I am the fool!’’
He made a strangled sound in his throat and rolled off her, turning her loose to throw an arm across his eyes. Loretta tensed, casting a hopeless glance at the door. Even if she made it outside, her chances of saving Amy were slim.
In a taut, barely restrained growl he said, ‘‘Do not test me by trying to run, Blue Eyes. I will sure enough beat you.’’
After a moment he let out an audible breath and eased onto his side, folding an arm beneath his head, his blue eyes so dark they looked black in the dusky light. ‘‘You will make an echo of Red Buffalo’s words. I cannot fight an enemy whose face is hidden.’’
Hearing his voice, so silken and close, brought bittersweet memories rushing back to her, and she wanted to cry. ‘‘You let me think you were my friend.’’
Hunter studied her delicate profile, his attention coming to rest on her tremulous lips. Her voice ached with the pain of betrayal, but he felt betrayed as well. ‘‘Did I not bring you the child?’’
The tendons along her throat became distended, and her voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘‘Was it terribly difficult finding her?’’
‘‘I knew the path Santos would walk! I have traveled it many times to trade.’’
She clenched her hands into fists. ‘‘You are well acquainted, then? The two of you are friends!’’
‘‘Ka, no, I did not call him friend.’’
‘‘He called you friend. Amy heard him. She says you rode right into his camp, no guns, no fight, and took her away. How much did you pay Santos to steal her, Hunter? Twenty horses? Fifty? Or did he do it just for the fun of having her there for a few days— to entertain him and his friends?’’
The question hung between them, ugly and discordant, an insult to him, a heartbreak to her. Fresh anger surged up Hunter’s throat. He swallowed it down. ‘‘I paid him nothing.’’
‘‘Do you deny that your song says your yellow-hair must come to you? You took me home and taught me how to walk back to you in your footsteps!’’ Her voice rose, turning shrill. ‘‘You gave me a fine horse to ride! Do you deny that?’’
Confusion welled inside him. ‘‘You are angry because I teach you and give you gifts?’’
At last she wrenched her head around, her tear-filled eyes sparkling with contempt. ‘‘Like your medallion? ‘Wear it for always,’ you said. But it wasn’t as a rememb
rance! It was to mark me, so your filthy friend Santos wouldn’t steal the wrong yellow-hair. You knew how much I love Amy. You struck where I was most vulnerable, knowing I’d do anything to save her. I trusted you. You spoke of songs in our hearts and remembering for always. And I—’’
Her voice broke and trailed off into a squeak. For a moment he thought she might strike him, so deep went her pain, but then her face crumpled and the fight drained from her. She looked so forsaken, so frightened, that all he wanted was to hold her and soothe away her hurts.
‘‘I believed you, Hunter. Do you know how difficult that was for me? After what Comanches did to my parents? I betrayed their memory, trusting you. I turned my back on everything.’’
Hunter’s heart caught at the bruised, aching intensity he heard in her voice. Two large tears slipped over her bottom lashes and washed onto her cheeks, trailing in silver ribbons to her chin. He ran his hand into her cloud of tangled hair and drew her toward him, ignoring her resistance, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. She lay rigid against him, shaking violently. He dipped his head, the last traces of his anger dying.
Hunter had always known his cousin was a clever man, but he hadn’t known until now just how clever. Red Buffalo had dealt in half-truths, which lent his lies power. No wonder she had come at him with a knife. Would he not have done the same to save Blackbird or Pony Girl? The only difference between him and this frail woman was that he had more strength with which to do battle. A strength he had nearly used against her, just as she had once feared.
‘‘Ah, Blue Eyes.’’ His voice, muffled against her neck, went raw with emotion. ‘‘I made no tricks against you. My heart sings only good things. It is the truth I speak.’’
‘‘I saw you at the fire!’’
They were back to the fire again? Hunter tried to think what it was she thought she had seen. ‘‘I was at the fire, yes. This is bad?’’