She started in the direction she thought was correct. When she came to the center of a clearing, a twig cracked several feet behind her. The light hairs on her neck rose. Was it just a small animal foraging for food? Or was it a bear? Slowly, she turned to look.
A large shadow loomed halfway from the edge of the clearing to where she stood.
She froze.
Nothing had been there before. She dropped her carpetbag, picked up her skirt and ran.
The animal’s movements thumped behind her and came closer. Suddenly, she was taken about the waist. Her screams carried up through the trees, and she found herself aboard a horse.
“If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you myself.” Its rider held her close, whispering harshly in her ear.
White Eagle.
“Nay!” she shouted and struggled to break free, but he held her fast. She scratched his arms and kicked.
The horse jerked its head back and sidestepped.
White Eagle reined in and slid with her to the ground, causing her to land on all fours.
Anna got to her feet and bolted. She barely made it a few feet when he grabbed her arm and swung her around. Screaming, she kicked, and when her boot met his shin, he loosened his grasp just enough for her to get away. She ran, but again, he swung her around by the arm. This time her palm met his face, and he jerked back.
Growling, he seized her arms and held her in front of him. She twisted and turned, but it was useless.
Not saying a word, he waited.
She pulled and twisted her arms, but it did no good. Finally, out of breath and strength, she relented, her whole being trembling. “Let me go.” She threw him a scowl, but even that failed when her hair fell over her eyes. “Let go of me.”
“Is it your time?” he asked.
“What?”
“Answer me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Are you bleeding?”
She gasped, mortified that he’d dare ask such a thing.
“Answer me, now!” His grip tightened on her arms, and he jerked her inches from his face.
“No!” Tears forced their way to the surface.
“Little liar,” he rasped, lightening his hold. He shook his head and released a long breath. “They would have killed you if it were true.” She wondered if she detected a hint of relief in his eyes or if it was just the moon’s reflection casting an odd light on his painted face. He gestured toward her with his chin. “What’s your name?”
She turned her face away, refusing to answer. He chuckled at her useless display of dignity.
Tingles began in her fingertips and carried up to where his hands gripped her.
“You’re hurting me,” she said. Another lie. Oh, how easily they came!
With that, he released her—palms up—and stepped back.
Anna lifted a trembling finger and pointed it at his painted chin. “I’m going to Denver, and you’re not going to stop me!”
White Eagle smiled, his teeth glowing white in the moonlight, and then gallantly swept his arm aside. “Go.”
Uncertain, Anna backed away. Surely he didn’t mean it. But what if he did? She hiked up her skirt and bolted. She ran as fast as she could, just in case the man changed his mind.
With surprising agility, White Eagle ran beside her and then jumped in front of her. She dodged to the left, but he blocked her way. She backed up, not letting him out of her sight. There had to be a way around. They circled each other like two wild animals ready to pounce.
“Stop it,” she said between clenched teeth.
White Eagle stepped closer. She drew in a sharp breath. He stepped toward her again, and she stepped back again, but something stopped her feet. She found herself trapped against a tree.
White Eagle leaned against the trunk, hand over her shoulder and amusement in his eyes. “You don’t even know the way.” He moved in closer, and Anna held her breath. “We should have named you Talks A Lot.” Grinning, his fingertips brushed against her cheek as his eyes seemed to drink in her face, her hair. “Aren’t you afraid?”
“If you were going to kill me,” Anna whispered, trying to fight off the strange way he made her feel, “you would have done so by now.” Then she added with a bite of sarcasm, “Besides, we’re supposed to get married. Or have you forgotten?” With that she ducked under his arm and bolted.
Chuckling, he caught her about the waist and swung her around.
She fought him, only with less fervor since her limbs felt as heavy as trees. She twisted and kicked. “Take me home. I don’t want to marry you!” A knot filled her throat, but she swallowed hard. She refused to cry in front of this savage.
He set her on her feet and turned her to face him, holding her wrist.
Her hair hung in disarray all around her body and in her face, blinding her. She brushed the strands aside so she could see. “Please,” she said, breathless. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll take you there after we’re married.”
“What?”
“After we’re married. I’ll take you to Denver City.” His accent was strange and thick, and yet his English wasn’t broken like that of the other Indians. What made this man so different? “When you’re there, you can live your life as you see fit. You can marry who you want. Forget this ever happened.”
Even this savage didn’t want her. “Why would you marry me then set me free?”
“I marry you out of duty to my friend. You are his captive. If you refuse to marry me, he’ll take your life.” The moonlight revealed the frown on his painted face.
She swallowed.
“Don’t defy him.” He yanked her close. “You could have lost your life tonight.”
“Would he have found me?” Well, that was a stupid question. If White Eagle found her then Running Cloud surely would have. “Are you sure an Indian marriage doesn’t mean anything to civilized people?”
“Yes.”
“And after we are . . . married,” the word made her heart sink, “you will take me home—to Denver City?”
“You have my word.”
“But why? What difference does a wedding make to my freedom?”
“If we are married, you belong to me. You become my woman and don’t belong to Running Cloud. Then I can do what I want with you.”
His last words brought frightening images to her mind. “Nay!” She turned to run, but he jerked her back to him.
“I won’t take your womanhood.”
Shocked at his boldness of speech, she reached up to slap him, but he caught it. Now, he held both her wrists in his steel-like grip.
“How dare you speak of such tings—things. You have no right.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she lost the battle of holding them back. She may have started this conversation, but he didn’t have to be so blunt about it.
He sighed. “When we’re married, I’ll take you where you want to go.”
She struggled against him.
“I give you my word.” His voice was low, almost soothing.
Still she doubted, mortified at the conversation they were having. “How do I know you’re