Cheyenne Captive (11 page)

But she would not permit herself that luxury. Even as his lips brushed hers gently, the fire moved closer and she knew what she had to do. The flames were consuming the big pine now. In only a minute or so more, it would be at her feet.

Reluctantly, she tore herself from his grasp. “You must go!” she urged. “For you to die is useless when your people need you so. The truth is—I—never really cared for you. I regret my passion already. I—I would try to go back to my people if you freed me.”

She saw the sudden pain as she mentioned his people, saw him react to the lie that she didn’t want him. Only those two things could hit the most vulnerable depth of his heart and she knew it.

“Even if you lied to me, I—I can’t leave you to die like this, Summer, all alone, in agony....”

“Your people need you. I don’t. I never really did. You—you were only a moment’s pleasure, a prize for a rich white girl.” She lied, pushing him away. His life was more important to her than her own. She would do whatever it took to save him. “Go on, you dirty heathen, run!”

His face was a mask of agony, of indecision. “I—I can’t Little One. I can’t leave you to die this terrible death alone, no matter whether what you say is true!”

She could feel the fire’s hot breath now. The smoke was so thick, she could hardly see him as he knelt by her.

And then, she knew what the answer was as she looked at the big knife in his belt.

“Don’t let the fire get me, Iron Knife,” she urged, gripping his hands with the intensity of her plea. “You’re skilled with the blade. You could end my life instantly.”

He jumped back, startled. “No! I couldn’t do that!”

“You can! You must!” Tears came to her eyes. She reached out, jerked the gleaming dagger from his belt, tried to press it into his unwilling hand.

“No!” He dropped the knife as if it were a poisonous snake. “That I can never do!”

She looked deep into his eyes, pleading with her own. “Can you leave me here to die in slow agony like the deer? Your blade is razor sharp, and it would be over in a flash for me. Is that not better than roasting slowly while I scream in pain?”

Summer saw that the logic had touched his heart, although she saw the conflict of the terrible choice in his dark eyes. Very slowly, he leaned over, picked up the knife. As he looked deep into her eyes, she saw the love and torture of the decision on his features.

The terrible heat became almost unbearable on her tender skin as the fire moved up the trunk. She only had another minute or two.

She reached up to him almost in prayer. “If I mean anything to you, save me from this terrible death.”

He bent over to kiss her. She tasted the salt of tears on his rugged face.

Summer wiped a stray tear off his high cheekbone. “Make it swift,” she murmured, and bit her lips to hold back her vow of eternal love.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she offered up her slender neck for his expert kill.
I wonder if it will hurt,
she thought, then steeled herself for the slash of the blade across her throat.

She, heard the agony of his breathing over the roar of the fire as it moved toward her. A stray spark lit on her skin and she brushed it away hurriedly. Only a moment more and the pine boughs around her would be aflame.

“Quickly!” she commanded without opening her eyes. “Quickly, if you love me! Then save yourself, go back to your people, and forget me!”

She waited for his action. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. He stood poised with the knife high, ready to bring it down across her slender throat. And when she looked into his face, she saw agony as he looked back at her.

“I must try to lift the tree one more time,” he decided as he ran to grasp the trunk. “Part of it has burned away. Maybe that might lighten it a few pounds!”

“Iron Knife! There isn’t time!” she protested in vain, watching him as he grasped the trunk. “You will be trapped by the fire yourself! Kill me, and flee while there’s still time!”

But he seemed to pay her no heed as he threw his weight into the mighty effort. The sparks from the fire were showering down on him and he winced as he struggled.

She watched his huge muscles bulge and strain with the effort. Sweat ran down his great body as he lifted. Near her head, a spark set the grass aflame. She beat it out with her bare hands.

And still, he struggled with the effort to lift the tree.

She had to save him! “Run, dear one, the fire is upon us! Save yourself!”

The heat from the flames began to scorch her tender skin and she coughed and strangled on the smoke.
Only a few seconds and the flames will envelop us both,
she thought wildly. She called out in protest to Iron Knife, urging him again to give her a quick, merciful death and run for the river.

If he heard her, he ignored her, for he gave no sign except that his head went back and he called out, “Great Heammawihio, look down upon me now and give me strength as you once gave Sampson in the Black Book my mother read to me! Please, Heammawihio!”

With that, he gave it one more try, and she knew he was putting everything he had into a last great effort because there was no time for more.

For a split second, the giant Indian’s powerful muscles bulged and rippled with the effort as the straining sinews stood out in his neck and legs. Sweat ran off him in trickles of pain as he lifted.

Summer glanced at the moving wall of flame.

“You can’t do it, dearest! Give up and save yourself!”

His strength was going into his lift and she saw him mouth the words,
not without you ... both or none . . .

Sparks from the advancing flames fell around her in a shower of heat as the fire moved up the trunk closer to the man. He was surely being scorched by the proximity of the fire, she thought in terror as he struggled with the burning tree.

It was too late, she thought, too late for either of them. They were both going to burn alive and she screamed at him, urging him again to save himself. Even as she did, his muscles quivered with his mighty effort and she felt the tree move.

Hardly daring to hope, she held her breath and watched him lift and strain.

Summer glanced at the flames around them. “Oh, dear God, help him,” she prayed. “Don’t let him die for me!”

In that instant, the burning part of the trunk fell away, making the weight lighter, and the tree moved just a fraction. Not much, only a scant inch or so, but it was enough. She could feel the weight lift off her imprisoned ankle and she pulled her leg free, scraping the skin raw as she managed to crawl out from under the big branch. She was free!

Summer struggled to her feet as Iron Knife ran to her and grasped her hand.

His eyes said everything as he half-dragged her. “We’ll make it now, Little One! Run! We can still make it to the river!”

She started forward and staggered, almost fell except that he caught her in his strong arms. “My ankle!” she wept in bitter disappointment. “I think it’s badly sprained! I can’t walk! You must go on without me!”

But he swung her up in his arms. “Little One, do you think I went through all this only to lose you now? I’ll carry you if I have to!”

And suiting action to the word, he started to run.

Looking over his shoulder, she saw the place where she had lain trapped burst into flames and shuddered at the image that came to her mind. Scarlet, angry flames consumed the whole pine tree. Then, the greedy fire moved relentlessly forward, pushed by the strong, rising wind.

She held on to Iron Knife’s neck as he ran with her in his arms, but she felt the quivering in his exhausted muscles. All his strength and energy had gone into lifting the tree off her leg and there was not much left to make it another mile to the river carrying her weight.

The flames were moving too fast, Summer realized as she buried her face against his chest so she couldn’t see. They weren’t going to make it after all his effort. She could feel his great heart pounding against her face with the effort. At least they would die in each other’s arms, she thought.

She kissed his shoulder gently and closed her eyes as he labored with the effort of his running. The fire was gaining on them. She didn’t want to see the wall of flames when it caught them.

“My love,” she whispered against his neck. “Oh, my love! We aren’t going to make it after all, but we’ll die in each other’s arms!”

Summer sobbed against his neck as the hopeless realization swept over her. “Leave me behind, dear one,” she wept. “You might make it to the river alone but you’ll never make it carrying me!”

His breathing grew labored as his great chest sought air. “Hush, Little One,” he gasped, “we’ll either make it together or die together!”

She tried to protest again and struggled in his arms. But he no longer answered her as he stumbled forward, both of them choking on the black smoke as the line of fire moved behind them.

She could see the river ahead now, near and yet so very far.
Too far
, she thought as she looked over his shoulder at the relentless flames blowing after them. She felt the trembling of his lithe muscles, the falter of his long gait as Iron Knife moved, knew he was almost to the limit of his endurance.

Ahead of them lay the rocky banks and shining water of the Arkansas. Frantic animals—deer, bobcat, panthers, rabbits—scampered past them and into the lifesaving water.

How strange
, she thought, almost in a daze, the animals ignored each other as they crowded into the stream. Large and small, predators and vegetarians, all waded about side by side in the water without trouble. They were all too intent on the great fire.

The blaze gained on the man. Summer could feel the heat blowing behind them. She hid her face against his big shoulder, shielding her tender skin from the heat. The trees thinned out on the landscape to open prairie and the fire ran along behind the running man like a molten river of scarlet, flowing over the dry grass, the small bushes.

She had never thought before about the sounds of fire, the labored breathing of those struggling to make it. Behind her, she heard frantic calls and sounds of desperate animals running. Some staggered with exhaustion and finally fell, kicking frantically, too tired to keep up the pace. The greedy fire consumed them as it raced forward.

The deafening roar of the fire almost drowned out the labored breathing of the man carrying her as he stumbled, going to his knees.

She fought to get out of his arms. “You can’t make it with me weight!” she screamed. “Leave me behind and go on!”

She saw his hand coming as he clipped her across the jaw and she collapsed, only half-conscious.

Vaguely, she heard his gasp, “Sorry, Summer Sky, I had to do that!” Then he threw her across his wide shoulder, staggered to his feet, and ran on.

Overhead, she was dimly aware of thunderheads gathering, the distant rumble of thunder.
It was going to
rain
, she thought,
but not in time; not in time.

Dear God, she prayed silently, can’t you see us? Can’t you help us?

She prayed silently, feeling the tears running down her dazed face as she felt the man stumble, go to his knees again. It seemed to take him a long moment to struggle to his feet.

The last of the animals who had survived ran past them and into the water only a few hundred feet ahead.

She heard, the rumble of thunder again and looked up. The angry clouds built jade green behind the red and yellow flames. They weren’t going to make it, she thought as Iron Knife staggered forward, unless ...

Summer prayed harder than she ever had before and as she did, she thought she felt the wind shift. For a long moment, she thought it was her hope and imagination and yet ...

“The wind,” she gasped. “The storm is causing it to shift. It’s no longer blowing toward us; it’s blowing the opposite direction!”

Iron Knife paused and swung around to look. “You’re right, Summer,” his exhausted voice held new hope, “the fire is blowing back toward itself. We’re going to make it after all!”

They wouldn’t have made it otherwise
, she thought as she closed her eyes to return thanks. The last few yards, Iron Knife stumbled forward at a walk.

Then, she came alert suddenly as he waded into the cold water with her in his arms. She laughed in delight at the feel of the waves lapping at her smudged, scorched skin. Animals surrounded them, small eyes and ears peeking out from the surface and they seemed to look curiously at this human who laughed out loud. All turned to watch the great wall of fire that faltered only a few hundred feet from the edge of the river and started to consume itself as the shifting wind blew it back.

Iron Knife carried her out deeper and she floated free and put her arms around his sinewy neck, reveling in the exuberance of being alive when she had resigned herself to death.

She looked up into his tired face. “You were about to give your life for me even though I had lied and told you I didn’t love you, didn’t want you. Why?”

He shrugged as he kissed her forehead. “Because at the last moment, when it looked like we would die together back there in the forest, you called me ‘dear’ and ‘dear one.’ I knew then that you lied to try to make me leave you behind. But I do seem to spend a lot of time saving you, Summer. It makes me think the great god, Heammawihio, doesn’t really want me to have you and someday will cease playing with me and take you away forever.”

She winced at the thought. “We are meant to be one. Somehow, whatever happens, we are fated to spend the rest of our lives together.”

His face saddened. “I wish I could be sure of that. My mother felt the same way.”

They turned to watch the fire. From a great red outlaw monster, it was rapidly dwindling to an impotent cannibal dwarf. It fed on itself and barely moved across the sparse grass near the water’s edge.

Iron Knife turned toward the other bank. “I know a cozy nook almost like a cave under a rocky ledge on the far side of the river. There’s a shallow place up around the bend where we can cross”.

He took her hand and led her as the animals watched them with curious eyes. The flames were dying fast, Summer thought, and the coming rain would drown out the remnant quickly.

Thunder rumbled again and the air was cool on her wet body as they stumbled out of the water onto the far bank. A few giant drops of rain splattered on the river, making small, rainbow pools that widened across the surface.

Iron Knife started to lift her again as they staggered out onto the bank, but Summer protested with a stubborn shake of her head. “Give me a little assistance and I can make it,” she said.

He looked as if he might argue the point with her, then shrugged as he mumbled something about her strong will. He put one strong arm under hers and half-supported, half-carried her as she hobbled across the ground on the sprained ankle.

The ledge was not so very far from the water but it seemed a long way to Summer as she gritted her teeth and limped. It really was a cozy lair under an overhanging rock with a view of the river.

With a tired sigh, she collapsed on the layer of soft scented pine needles.

He looked down at her tenderly. “You need to get out of that wet shirt.”

She looked down at his oversized buckskin she still wore, and with no shame, pulled it over her head and hung it on a rocky outcrop in their cave.

She felt no shame at her nakedness or the way his eyes appraised her nude, ripe body.

Slowly, he took off his wet breechcloth and fringed pants and hung them to dry next to her shirt. Then he settled himself next to her on the pine-scented bed with a tired sigh.

Summer leaned back against the rock, watching the occasional raindrop hitting the grass at the front of the cave. “We made it, love, I really didn’t think we would.”

He put one big finger under her chin, turned her small, heart-shaped face up to his. “I told you we would make it together, or die together.”

She caught his hand with her small one and kissed his fingertips. “I wish I could find a new way to say how much I love you.”

His hands reached out and pulled her against him. “My English isn’t good enough to find the words I need for this moment.”

But there were no words needed between them as they embraced and watched the fire sputtering on the far side of the river. It was hard to believe the weak, orange sparks were great walls of red flame only minutes before.

Summer frowned. “I wonder what happened to your horse?”

He shook his head. “Spotted Blanket is the smartest horse I ever owned. He either made it out onto the prairie where the wild horses graze safely, or he swam the river like we did. Sooner or later, I will find him or he will return to the village. They will send out a search party when he comes in without me.”

Iron Knife stopped to examine her ankle, his big hands gently touching the swollen, discolored sprain.

She bit her lip and winced as he moved it. “I don’t think I can walk all the way back to the village.”

“No matter,” he said. “We are both too exhausted to do any traveling and it is going to storm.”

She glanced up at the thunderheads still building on the horizon as another raindrop spattered on the rock outside their lair.

Iron Knife stood up and she realized again what a marvelous physical specimen he was as she studied his nude body.
It was
almost like having their own little Garden of Eden,
she thought, looking down at her own nakedness. A few short days ago, she could never have imagined being caught up in a romantic adventure such as this.

He stretched his rippling muscles and looked outside. “It will be raining hard in a few minutes and we will need a campfire as the rain brings a cool breeze. Also, we must have food.” He stepped out to the cave’s entrance. “I must go back across the river.”

“No, don’t leave me!” She reached up to grasp his fingers.

He squeezed her hand, then disengaged his own. “I must, Summer. I will have to make several trips, but I’ll bring back a burning stick so we can have a campfire.”

“Where will you find food?”

“One of those deer or rabbits that didn’t survive will provide us with plenty of delicious roasted meat.”

So saying, he strode away. She watched anxiously as he crossed the river and was soon swimming back with a burning branch held over his head. Within minutes, he had a merry fire crackling under the ledge to warm her trembling, naked body. Then he returned to the smoldering remnants of the forest fire and brought back a haunch of venison.

The animals that had survived the fire left the river now; some crossing to the far side, others scattering into the unburned areas to the south of the forest.

Iron Knife just managed to crawl under the shelter of the ledge and flop down beside the campfire as the rain commenced. They gobbled the delicious meat, licking their fingers and putting small morsels in each other’s mouths as they sat by the warm fire and watched the sky break open. The rain came down hard.

Over on the other side, the forest fire was out, an occasional wisp of smoke or a tiny pink tongue of flame licking weakly at the blackened underbrush. The cold rain fell among the blackened skeletons of burned trees and she stared, shuddered to think how close she and her love had come to being burned alive.

But this was not the time to think of that, she thought with a contented sigh as she ate the last of the meat and lay down next to the fire with him. It seemed they were the only two people in the whole universe. Summer was filled with calm satisfaction. The soft, scented pine needles made a velvet bed beneath her naked skin. There could be nothing more wonderful in life than this, she thought.

She smiled at him. “I would be happy to stay here forever, just the two of us.”

He grinned. “Like the white man’s story of Adam and Eve?”

“You know our story of the world’s beginning?”

He nodded, reaching out to stroke her hair. “The only people who were kind to my mother and me when we lived among the whites was an old minister and his wife. He told me the Cheyenne believe that all the world was water and a great duck swam to the bottom and brought mud up in his bill over and over until land was formed.”

She closed her eyes, loving the feel of his hands stroking her hair. “And the People?”

“The People lived under the ground and came up to the light. We have stories of another time when the Cheyenne lived far from here, had no horses and grew corn.”

“Grew corn?”

“We lost the corn and could grow it no more. It is part of our legends like that of Ehyophstah.”

“Who is that?” She brushed her fingertips across the dark rosette of his nipple.

“The Yellow-haired Woman Who Brought the Buffalo to our People. When my father first saw Texanna, he had never seen a woman with light hair and pale skin. He thought she was the magic woman of the legends and, entranced, he stole her from the wagon train.” Iron Knife caught her small hand with his big one, looked into her eyes intently.

She thought how big and callused his hand was, covering her small one. “The People cannot live without the buffalo, can they?”

He shook his head. “When the time comes that we lose the buffalo,” he answered, his eyes growing more smoldering, “we lose everything, our freedom, our way of life.” His free hand stroked gently along her rib cage as the rain poured down outside. ”I would like to make love to you, Summer, but you are too hurt, too exhausted—”

“Try me,” she smirked impishly, reaching up to pull his face down to hers.

“Lay still and let me amuse you, then,” he whispered and she lay back with a sigh. She shook her damp hair so it spread out like a pale halo around her and closed her eyes.

She felt him move to her feet. “I’m going to kiss every inch of you,” he whispered and she felt him pick up one of her small feet in his two big hands. His lips were light as butterfly wings against the sole of her foot as he kissed it, moved slowly up her swollen ankle, her leg.

Now she felt his warm, moist lips leaving a velvet touch on her thigh and she started to protest. “Not there, you surely aren’t going to kiss me there!”

“I said every inch of you,” he murmured and she felt his breath warm on her inner thigh, gasped in surprise at the eager way her body responded to the touch of his lips.

His fingers followed his lips, gently spreading her legs apart, stroking, caressing.