Warrior Moon Page 15

  “They’ll take my gold, and then they’ll take us in. Gold has become scarce because of the war.”

  She rode back to try to explain to Muaahap. Finally, Lone Wolf glanced back to say something to Muaahap in Comanche and she nodded.

  Vanessa pulled up her reticule and handed it to him. He took it, his fingers brushing hers. The silk purse looked ridiculous in his big hands as he opened it and jiggled it. He reached inside and pulled out gold pieces that glittered in the sunshine. He frowned and looked at her. “You’re a wealthy woman with all this.”

  “The rest of the money is packed in my portmanteau.”

  “If we take rooms, Muaahap will expect you to stay in a room with me because she thinks you’re my wife.”

  Blushing, Vanessa thought of the nights they had already spent in the same bed. “We’ve done that before without succumbing to urges, so yes, I’ll share the room with you.”

  “So we’ll get a room in the hotel,” he said, knowing Muaahap would accept wherever Vanessa chose to sleep. But he wanted her in his bed because each time he kissed her, her response was swifter and more intense than the time before.

  It was over an hour later when they passed a neatly painted sign reading Jenksboro. They entered the town, and Vanessa was reassured by the rows of houses down the dusty streets leading off the main artery. The town stretched a distance of almost eight blocks of busy shops, patronized by women in buggies and men on horseback and on foot. A two-story wooden building had a sign in front with bright red letters that proclaimed it the Jenksboro Hotel, and they halted at its hitching rail. They walked inside, and Lone Wolf rang a silver bell. Vanessa glanced around the lobby while they waited. It was plain, but clean, with potted palms, a polished plank floor, and simple wooden furniture.

  A door closed and a pale, thin man straightened rimless spectacles and approached them. He smiled at her; but when he looked at Lone Wolf, his smile was replaced by a frown.

  “I want two rooms,” Lone Wolf said quietly to the clerk, who again adjusted his spectacles as Lone Wolf placed several greenbacks on the counter.

  “I’m sorry we don’t have any vacancies.”

  “I want two rooms for my family,” Lone Wolf said as if he hadn’t heard the man. He produced a twenty-dollar gold piece and placed it beside the greenbacks. “We’ll be gone early.”

  The clerk looked at the gold, glanced at Vanessa, looked at the gold and greenbacks again, and nodded, slipping the gold into his pocket. “Very well. I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  “Thank you,” Lone Wolf said politely. “And bring two tubs for baths.”

  The man nodded without looking around at Lone Wolf. They followed the clerk, who took down two keys from hooks on the wall and came around the counter. “If you’ll come with me.”

  They motioned to Muaahap and White Bird to follow, then waited while the clerk opened the door to a room.

  “Here’s one room, and the other is next door.” The clerk opened the adjoining door and motioned to Muaahap to enter. She seemed dazzled by the room as she walked in and tentatively touched a chair.

  Soon the tubs were brought to the rooms and filled with water. Vanessa joined Muaahap and helped her bathe White Bird and wash her hair, and then Vanessa bathed. She changed from the buckskin to the pink muslin, wearing it for the first time in her travels and wondering if Lone Wolf would prefer she continue to wear the buckskins. She parted her hair in the center and combed it, fastening it high on the sides of her head to let it cascade freely in back. She brushed White Bird’s hair and fastened it in the same manner, placing tiny red silk bows on both sides of her face. Then she dressed White Bird in the red gingham dress she had made in Martin Gulch.

  Muaahap clapped her hands and grinned. “Nanan-isuyake!”

  Her pleasure was obvious, and Vanessa motioned toward the door to Lone Wolf’s room. “I’ll be back,” she said, waving her hands. She knocked on his door and when he swung it open, she entered.

  He closed the door and turned to look at her, his gaze drifting over her in a manner she had not often seen.

  She saw the pleasure light his eyes as his gaze raised to meet hers. He was bare-chested, his hair wet from bathing.

  “You look beautiful, Vanessa,” he said quietly, moving toward her and touching her hair.

  Her heart raced and she could smell his soapy scent. “I didn’t know if you would prefer the buckskin; but since we’re in town, I thought I should wear this.”

  “You look beautiful,” he repeated. He trailed his fingers along her throat, letting them drift down over the scooped neck of the pink muslin. His fingertips caused a feathery, fiery trail across her skin as he ran his hand lightly across the curves of her breasts. “This dress wouldn’t be practical in our lives.”

  “They may not allow us to eat in the hotel dining room—” she said, conscious of his bare chest, her gaze drifting down and focusing on his muscles.

  He shook his head. “They will allow you to do so if you go down there without any of us.”

  “I’ll go get us food, and we can eat here,” she said, trying to concentrate as his fingers moved from her throat, to trace the soft rise of her breasts. She inhaled deeply and tried to think what else she had intended to tell him. “You’ll have to take my money and purchase a revolver for me. I won’t know what I’m buying.”

  He nodded. “I’ll get a pistol.”

  “I want another horse. Will you get that also? I’ll need one for my belongings when I leave you.”

  He nodded.

  “I want to go to the general store and get some supplies and material for another dress. I’ll wait until later to get the food because it’s early to eat.” As she talked and tried to recall her list, he leaned closer.

  His hand drifted over her nape, and her pulse drummed from the slight touch. Her nerves were taut, his constant touches building a fire in her that threatened to rage out of control. The slightest contact increased her yearning for him.

  He gazed at her with desire in his eyes and a solemn, intense expression, and she wondered if she should insist on staying the night with Muaahap. As swiftly as the thought came, she knew she wouldn’t. She wanted Lone Wolf’s kisses and loving, for she knew that within hours, he would tell her goodbye and she would part from him forever.

  “I’m leaving for the store,” she said in a breathless voice as she moved past him to the other room, excited because she would be with him tonight.

  By sign she conveyed to Muaahap that they were going shopping. Muaahap had begun to pick up a few words of English just as Vanessa had learned a smattering of Comanche and Kiowa.

  They stepped into sunshine beneath a cloudless blue sky with only a slight breeze. The women on the street stared. A few nodded and smiled; but the others gazed at Muaahap and White Bird and frowned, turning away.

  In the general store, they meandered about and Vanessa bought a bracelet and earbobs and a red ribbon for Muaahap. She purchased a small rag doll for White Bird, some ribbons for her hair, and a locket. She also selected material for a dress, and supplies for their journey.

  At the hotel, Muaahap helped carry things to their room and then she motioned to Vanessa that she was taking White Bird out to walk.

  Vanessa waved them on and waited, guessing from the late afternoon hour that Lone Wolf would return shortly. She went to his room, moving around and wondering about him because none of his possessions were in sight. The room held a four-poster mahogany bed, a washstand, a rocking chair, a high chest of drawers, and an oval rag rug on the clean floor. A scratched mahogany armoire stood along one wall. She thought about her things, packed in the portmanteau and reticule; the satchel with White Bird’s clothes, ribbons, and toys, and Muaahap’s bundle. Yet Lone Wolf traveled only with what he wore on his person.

  She moved to the window to look below, trying to spot his dark hair, knowing if he would cut it or hide it beneath a hat, it might save him some abuse from the whites.

  She wondered if
her father had given up the search for her now, and she prayed he never learned she had traveled with Lone Wolf.

  She felt a burning excitement to be here with him tonight and longed for him to return without encountering any hostile whites or soldiers.

  Two blocks away, Lone Wolf leaned against the counter and looked at the revolvers. He pointed to one. The clerk handed it to him. “You’re Injun, ain’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said, taking the revolver and holding it in his hand, sighting down the barrel. “I’m an army scout and I’ve been back to see my people. Now I return to Fort McKavett.”

  The man nodded. “I thought you’d be in a uniform. Didn’t know the U.S. Army would allow buckskins.”

  “They allow buckskins for scouts because they need the scouts. Let me see the one with the polished grip,” he said, replacing the revolver on the counter.

  The man got out another revolver and put away the Smith & Wesson.

  Lone Wolf held it, clicking the trigger on the empty chambers. “I’ll take this one. Do you have a derringer?”

  “Yes. Right here.”

  He needed very little time to purchase a revolver for himself and a derringer for Vanessa. “Thank you,” Lone Wolf said as he accepted the guns.

  “You’re welcome.” The man squinted at him. “Mister, some people in town don’t like Injuns, army scout or not. I’d stay out of the barber shop, away from the tinsmith, and off the street in general. You’ll get along better.”

  “Thanks,” Lone Wolf said, placing the revolver and the derringer in his waistband. He walked to the livery stable and within the hour had purchased a black gelding and made arrangements for the stable to keep it along with their other horses until the next day.

  As he headed back down the street, he noticed a flyer nailed to a post. It fluttered in the breeze and at first his gaze slid past it. But he paused to read it and then he frowned. He moved closer to stare at a picture of a smiling Vanessa. It was a good picture and there was no mistaking her face or the bold black letters across the top that sent a chill down his spine as he read: $1,000 REWARD.

  A thousand-dollar reward. He looked at buildings and posts along the street and spotted three more flyers. She could be under arrest now!

  He yanked the flyer off the post, his gaze raking over it as he started toward the hotel, and then he stopped in his tracks, his heart missing a beat. He stood in the dusty street in the warm afternoon sun and stared at the flyer, rage rising within him, his pulse roaring in his ears as he read: $1,000 REWARD. Vanessa Mae Sutherland, daughter of Colonel Abbot Sutherland…

  Lone Wolf stopped reading, his head jerking up as he looked at the hotel. Vanessa Sutton was actually Vanessa Sutherland, and her father was the man who had condoned Eyes That Smile’s death, the man who paid ten dollars for each Indian killed, a man Lone Wolf despised and hated.

  Enraged, he held the flyer and started toward the hotel.

  Eleven

  Vanessa spotted Lone Wolf striding toward the hotel. His legs covered the distance swiftly, and her heart raced as she wished he would look up, but he didn’t. She turned from the window and crossed the room to wait for him. The key grated and the door swung open, slamming against the wall.

  Shocked, she stared at him.

  He stepped inside, then closed and locked the door, and her heart lurched because the moment she saw his fierce expression, she knew something was dreadfully wrong.

  His dark eyes were filled with rage as he crossed the room. “You lied to me, Vanessa Sutherland,” he said in a quiet voice that sent a chill running down her spine. “You’re the daughter of Abbot Sutherland, the man who condoned what his men did to my wife, the man who has offered ten dollars to his men for any dead Indian. Ten dollars,” he said in an even quieter, more deadly voice.

  Terrified, Vanessa raised her chin in spite of her fear and faced him. “I said Vanessa Sutton because I knew how you would feel if you learned I was the daughter of Abbot Sutherland. You knew who he was and what he had done.”

  “You’re his daughter and you’re like all whites—deceitful, telling untruths because it will meet your needs. When I think—” He strode forward and looked down at her, and she felt his anger washing over her in waves. Her heart pounded wildly because he looked as if he could close his fingers around her throat and squeeze the breath from her.

  “They took my wife and raped her and stabbed her, and your father paid them ten dollars for it!”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying again?” Yanking his shirt over his head, he flung it away. Her eyes widened, and he saw the momentary flash of fear.

  He stepped toward her, expecting her to try to run. Instead she faced him as he reached out to grab her pink muslin and rip it down the front.

  “I will have you, Vanessa Sutherland.” He ground out the words as he ripped away her chemise. “I’ll take you as they took her!”

  She faced him and caught his hands, her fingers closing on his thick, strong wrists. “You’ll not do this in anger!” she said, trying to wrench away from him. He held her and wound his fingers in her hair, yanking her face up toward his.

  He shook with rage, wanting to throw her down on the floor and possess her and take his revenge. Stunned that she had lied to him, he felt betrayed by her deceit. She jerked her knee up and he twisted to avoid her, taking the blow on his thigh as he pushed her back against the wall. He bent his head to kiss her, his mouth hard on hers, his tongue going deep while he tore away her underdrawers.

  Suddenly, she lunged against him, breaking her arms free of his grasp and placing her hands on both sides of his face. She looked at him, and the expression in her green eyes made him pause.

  “I swear to you, I have told you the truth in all else.”

  “You lied to me, Vanessa, as whites have lied again and again.” He was breathing hard, his anger blinding him.

  “Only in that one thing,” she answered. She stood on tiptoe and placed her mouth on his.

  He made a sound like a growl in his throat, his arm banding her waist as he bent over her and kissed her hard.

  She spun away to look at him. “I did not lie in anything else,” she whispered. “And my father does not love me.”

  Lone Wolf exhaled, shaking from his anger, feeling her hands touching his chest.

  He tightened his arm around her, pulling her to him to kiss her, wanting to punish her, wanting to love her. He hurt from the deceit, yet he knew Vanessa well enough to believe her. He could understand why she had told him Sutton.

  He groaned, his hands coming up to roam over her body, cupping her pale, soft breasts, and a tremor ran through him. He wanted revenge for her lies; he wanted her. He wanted to make her cry out and to feel her warmth envelop him.

  “The first time between us will not be out of anger!” she snapped, wresting her face from his and struggling with him. “I will always carry the first time in my heart.”

  Her words registered through his rage, and he looked at her. Her green eyes gazed back, enflamed with anger and longing, but no fear. Here was a woman who could match his temperament and his needs. He framed her face with one hand under her jaw. He wanted to hear her cries of passion not pain.

  “If I ever find again that you have lied to me—”

  Her lashes fluttered and she gave him an open, fearless look. And he remembered that once as a boy, when he had been running in the wilds, he had crossed paths with a mountain lion. For one startled moment they had faced each other only a few yards apart and he had pulled his arrow to kill the cat. It had confronted him, tail switching, and then it had turned and walked away and he had lowered his arrow because the animal had been fearless. Vanessa had that same steadfast stare as she met his gaze.

  “I haven’t lied to you about anything else,” she whispered.

  His hand slid down her body over her curves as his arm tightened around her waist and he drew her closer, bending his head to kis
s her. Her head tilted back and she clung to him, her body pressing his, her curves tantalizing to his touch.

  With a groan he covered her mouth with his, and she yielded to him. He held her tightly. As his hand slid along her smooth back and down over the curve of her bottom, his anger changed to a throbbing need. He had waited long enough, wanted her for so long now.

  His hands cupped her breasts and his thumbs drew circles around her taut nipples. Her breasts swelled against his palm, and the stiffness left her body as her tongue thrust against his.

  His anger gone, knowing she was blameless, he kissed her. His pulse jumped and he ached for her. Bending his head, he took her breast in his mouth.

  Vanessa felt the wet heat of his mouth on her nipple and she gasped as pleasure shot through her. His hand moved over her belly, down between her legs to touch her in an exquisite friction.

  Lone Wolf found the bud and stroked her. She gasped with pleasure, thrusting her hips against his hand, her body tightening. He increased the pressure and his strokes until she was moving against him in a wild rhythm.

  Vanessa held him as he stroked her, his hand on her feminine warmth, sensations rocking her. She felt a need that tore at her. Her eyes were closed, and he leaned forward to kiss her while she clung to him. His hand drove her to the brink of release until her passion burst inside her, washing over her in waves as she rocked against him.

  Trailing kisses from her mouth to her breast, he shed his buckskins, his shaft thick and erect, throbbing with readiness.

  He placed his large hands on her hips. Her green eyes were huge, filled with passion and curiosity as she reached out slowly to touch him, her fingers lightly grasping his erection.

  Closing his eyes, he drew his breath, feeling as if he would burst in her hand. He looked at the body that he had seen that first evening in the river when her lush beauty had been etched in his memory.

  “Vanessa.” He pulled her down on the floor, moving between her legs. Vanessa gazed up at him, her heart pounding wildly. He was virile, his broad shoulders tapering to his narrow waist, his manhood so large she felt it would be impossible to mate.