Tender savage (25 page)

Viper reached for his knife, then realized too late he had left It with Erica. "Erica is my wife," he replied in a menacing whisper. "If you dare to insult her again, I will have your life for itl"

No coward. Hunted Stag still took the precaution of moving back a step before he issued a challenge of his own, "If your white blood calls so loudly to you, you no longer belong with us. There are many mixed bloods among the captives. Perhaps you and your white wife belong there alsol"

Viper went for him then, using his fists to make the ix)int he had failed to score with words. A crowd quickly gathered around, not caring what had caused the fight, but eager to watch it. Hunted Stag 2md Viper were evenly matched in size, but Viper's righteous anger gave him the advantage. With but a few decisive blows, he won an apology from his former friend, then left him bleeding in the dirt. He stalked off then, still too angry to acknowledge the cheers or greetings of the bystanders.

Knowing he could not return to Erica before he had bathed. Viper went back to the tep)ee where he had found his aunt for a change of clothes and also picked up the clothing she had gathered for his wife. He hoped that if he brought Erica into camp dressed as an Indian, his intentions to remain with his people would be so clear even the fools among them could see he was still a Sioux.

Two Elk saw Viper coming down the trail and called to Erica that her husband had returned. He then saw his friend's deep scowl and grew worried, but Viper's expression changed to one of delight as he swung down from his horse and greeted his bride.

"Did you miss me?" he teased. His hair was still damp from his bath. Dressed in new buckskins and smiling broadly, he appeared to be completely free of care.

"Miss is not a strong enough word," Erica replied. She gave him one enthusiastic hug after another, unmindful of Two Elk's chuckles at the joyousness of their reunion after so brief a separation.

"I have brought you the dress I promised." Viper unrolled the soft buckskin garment and held it up for ner to see. "I have moccasins, too. Will you wear the clothes for me?"

Not realizing how imp)ortant her manner of dress was to her husband. Erica readily agreed. "Yes, if it will please you. I told you I would be happy to have anything new." She glanced down at her faded blue gown and noticed to her surprise that the bloodstains near the hem, while now faint, were still visible. "Yes, I definitely need something new." She looked around then, not wanting to bathe and change her clothes in front of Two Elk.

Understanding her desire for privacy, Viper offered his hand. "Come with me, there is a better spot for bathing up ahead."

As she moved past Two Elk, Erica glanced up at him shyly. "It was nice to meet you," she paused to say.

Not certain how to reply, the embarrassed brave merely nodded and smiled broadly. He watched as Viper helped her onto the horse and then led the animal away. He was still surprised that his friend had taken a wife and wondered what their other friends had said. Since he would surely find out that evening, he reminded himself to take his duties as a sentry more seriously, and tried to put Viper and his remarkable bride out of his mind.

When they arrived at a suitably secluded spot. Viper stopped the horse and helped Erica from his back. A sly smile graced his lips as he began to unbutton her bodice. "Save this dress. It will give us many memories."

Since not all of them would be pleasant. Erica would have preferred to bum the worn garment, but she did not argue with his request. He sat at the river's edge while she bathed. After she had finished and put on her own lingerie, he helped her to don the buckskin dress. The fit could be adjusted with the laces at the shoulders

and neckline, and he worked until he was satisfied the garment was as flattering as her other dress had been. Still, even attired in the graceful buckskin dress, his lovely blond wife did not even remotely resemble an Indian woman.

"Sit down in front of me and I will brush out your hair," he offered politely but he took the precaution of making certain no one was nearby to observe him at the task. Wet, her hair hung in dark ringlets he knew would relax into soft curls when dry. It was finer in texure than his own hair, and he concentrated on brushing it over his hand as it dried, distracting himself from the darker thoughts that filled his mind with heart-rending confusion.

Impressed by the softness of her new dress. Erica toyed with the fringe on the sleeves and hem while her husband hummed softly to himself. "You found your aunt, then?"

"Yes. She is the one who makes my clothes. She will teach you how to make your next dress yourself." Then curious, he thought to ask, "You do know how to sew, don't you?"

Erica peeked over her shoulder at her husband, both her manner and expression apologetic. "Well, actually, no. My mother taught me the various stitches for embroidery, but all our clothes were made by seamstresses."

Viper nodded. "Of course. Rich women do not sew their own clothes. I should have known that without asking."

Objecting to his condescending tone, Erica was quick to defend herself. "I do know how to thread a needle. Viper. I am certain sewing hides is nothing like sewing &bric anyway, so even if I were an accomplished seamstress there would be lots for me to leam. I am not stupid. You needn't worry your aunt will laugh at me."

"That is the least of my worries," Viper confided sincerely. "Her name is Flowers of Spring, and since she is only eight years older than I, she has never tried to take my mother's place. She is a widow, and childless, so her life has not been a happy one."

"Just how old are you. Viper?" Erica was shocked to realize she had never even asked that question.

"I am twenty-seven," he responded with the teasing chuckle that often filled his deep voice. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen." Erica laughed too, then, thinking it odd they had never before had any curiosity about their ages. "Your aunt is only thirty-five, then. She could marry again and have a family, c6uldn't she?"

"Yes," Viper admitted rather reluctantly, "but it is unlikely."

"My father is only thirty-nine. I wish that he would marry again. It broke my heart to see him so sad and lonely." The moment she mentioned the man who was so dear to her. Erica was overcome with p>ainful feelings of guilt, for she still had thought of no way to send him word that she was not only safe, but married.

"Would he like an Indian woman? Flowers of Spring can sew and cook well, and she is so quiet he would not tire of her company," Vip>er boasted proudly.

"Are you tired of mine?" Erica turned again to inquire. "Is that all Indian men want, a woman who can do chores well and keep quiet?"

Knowing he was treading upon dangerous ground. Viper shook his head. "It is nice if a woman is also pretty, even better if she likes to make love. A slave can do chores. A wife's duties are different."

"Do Indian women consider making love to their husbands only a duty?" While she knew there were white women who held such a pathetic view, she had always felt sorry for them. Since her parents had been so blissfully happy, it had been obvious her mother enjoyed making love as much as her father did.

"I hope not," Viper replied with a teasing grin, thinking they had discussed the subject long enough. He looked up at the sky then, wishing ni^ht would fall swiftly so he could escort her into camp without attracting too much notice.

Her hair was nearly dry now, and as Erica took the brush from Viper's hand she noticed he had scraped his knuckles. Alarmed, she knelt in front of him. "Were you fighting with someone? Is that how you hurt your hand?"

Viper thought of the many secrets he would have to keep and decided to tell the truth, or at least part of it. "I often disagree with my friends. A brave said something I did not like, so I hit him. I won the fight, so he will keep his thoughts to himself around me."

Erica pursed her lips thoughtfully, certain there had to be more to the story than that. "Just what did the man say?

"I will not repeat his insults," Viper vowed stubbornly.

"Well then, were they about me?"

"Why would he insult you? He does not even know you," the wily bnrave replied, hoping to satisfy her curiosity with questions of his own.

Erica was too bright to fall for his trick and continued to pester him to explain. "He doesn't have to meet me to tell you what he thinks of your marrying a white woman. Viper. Is that what he did?"

"Where is my knife?" Viper asked, suddenly recalling he had wanted to plunge it into Hunted Stag's throat.

Erica reached into the pocket of her blue dress to remove it and returned it to him. "Here. Now finish your story."

"I already did," Viper insisted as he slipped his knife into the beaded sheath at his belt. After dropping the two cougar-claw necklaces over her head, he rose to his feet and drew Erica up beside him. "The war has given everyone a short temper. The fight is over and will soon be forgotten. Do not worry about it."

The stern set of his jaw convinced Erica it would be pointless to try and get more information out of him. She still had the little cougar Gunter had carved for her. She left it in the pocket of her blue dress along with the hairbrush, and after folding it up with her slips, she squared her shoulders proudly and announced she was ready to go. "Just as I promised, I will do my best not to disgrace you or your family. Viper, but if people choose to hate me just because I am white, there is little I can do about it."

That was something the brave already knew, and he drew his pretty bride into his arms and kissed her so passionately she would have followed him anywhere, even through the gates of hell.

In spite of the fact that she was expecting a white woman. Flowers of Spring was still shocked to find Erica so astonishingly fair. Recognizing that she possessed that rare beauty all braves would long to have for their own, she warned Viper in their own language. "This woman is too pretty to be anything but trouble. What can I teach her that

she would want to leam?"

Viper smiled widely, pretending for his bride's sake that his aunt's comments had been compliments as he replied in the language Erica could not understand. "She is a smart girl and not lazy. Do not insult her when you do not even know her."

While she was positive she did not want to know her, Flowers of Spring said no more. She pointed to the covered iron kettle sitting upon the stone hearth at the center of the tepee. "There is venison stew for you to eat. I will make my home elsewhere while you are here." She left then, without giving Erica so much as a p)olite nod of farewell.

While the tepee was much larger than she had anticipated. Erica was not so fascinated by the dwelling constructed of buffalo hides that she had failed to notice his aunt hadn't seemed pleased to meet her. She tried to smile as she reassured her husband that things were bound to improve. "I know it will take time for everyone to accept me. I will just have to be patient. After all, if I took you home to Wilmington, you would receive some peculiar looks too."

Erica continually amazed him, and he was greatly relieved that she had not been insulted by the chill of his aunt's attitude. "Tomorrow I want to ride with the others. Sj>end as much time as you can bear with my aunt, then come back here and rest. I am certain the other women will be curious about you, but most are shy, and they will not be rude."

"I won't be rude, either," Erica promised sincerely. "I'll do my share of the work, and if I have any complaints to make, you are the only one who will hear them."

"Let's hope they are very few. Are you hungry? My aunt's stew is usually good."

"Even if it isn't, I am too hungry to care," Erica responded with a sparkling laugh. She was no less apprehensive, but as always. Viper's good-natured humor was infectious.

Using wooden bowls and spoons made of buffalo horn, they quickly finished one serving of stew and began another. Seeing his bride's interest in the tepee. Viper began to tell her about the portable dwelling. "The tepee is more than a home to us. The floor reminds us of the

earth; the sides, which reach toward the heavens, are the sky. It is round like the sacred life circle, with no beginning and no end." He paused for a moment, hoping he did not sound daft, but Erica's expression was one of polite interest, not disdain. "Tepees can be taken down quickly and moved easily. It is the perfect home for p>eople who move often to follow game, but when we were forbidden to move, the sight of them always made me sad."

"I understand," Erica responded sympathetically. "To live in a hunter's home and not be allowed to hunt would sadden anyone."

They finished eating in companionable silence, then Viper reached for Erica's hand. "Come outside with me. There is something I want you to see."

She had attracted so many curious stares when they had ridden into camp that Erica would have preferred to remain hidden, but knowing she would have to make the effort to venture out the following morning, she rose to her feet. Viper did no more than lead her a few steps outside before he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Night had fallen, and all around them the tepees shone with a soft red glow from the fires within them. Like mystical lanterns of some ancient gods, they provided an enchanting sight, one the pretty blonde was glad she hadn't missed.

"How peaceful everything looks," she whispered softly.

"We once had the {perfect life," Viper replied. "There was a harmony among all living things. We did not clear the land of trees. We did not wantonly slaughter animals. Then the white man came, and he did not respect any of our beliefs. He wanted the land for his farms, the trees cut into logs to build his houses. He shot animals for sp>ort, or took their hides and left their carcasses to rot while we went hungry. Every year the damage the white man does spreads, while the ways of the Sioux are forgotten. Now all that is left of the beauty we once knew is the red glow of a tepee at night."

Tears spilling over her lashes. Erica turned in Vif>er's embrace. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed as though her heart were broken, for she feared he had lost more than her love could ever give him.