Free The Renegade's Woman by Nikita Black Page B

one would fight him. No one could see him.
     
    No one except the Leader of the Wagons, who pointed his white, bony finger at Standing Bear and screamed, "You can't have her! You can't have her!"
     
    Suddenly, he found himself at the mouth of a deep, protected valley, high up on the big mountain. He carried a tiny blue-eyed babe, and led a small band of battered survivors into the sheltered valley. His heart leapt when he saw Pale As Moonlight walking among them. They had not taken her from him! He called her name, ran to her, but when she turned, he was looking into the face of his uncle's captive wife, White Lily.
     
    Whistling Hills found him at dawn, curled into a ball, shivering on the ridge above where he and Pale As Moonlight had made love the day before.
     
    He couldn't meet the eyes of his friend for shame and sadness. How could he have ever thought to risk the lives of his people like that? He knew his vision was all too realistic. He himself had lived through just such an attack, and they were becoming more and more frequent, with less and less provocation. Those who fought the white man died.
     
    He gathered his heavy spirit and his pony, and silently followed Whistling Hills back to the village. It was a warrior's duty to tell everyone of his vision as soon as he'd had it, but Standing Bear could not bring himself to do so. Not until late that night when his uncle and the other elders were gathered around the Council Fire and summoned him to them.
     
    "Tell us what you have seen, son of my sister, so we can hold council. Your vision clouds your eyes and heart. Together, we will decide what must be done. "
     
    By the time of the big trading day with the Indians, Sally didn't know which emotion was strongest within her, desperation that she would never see Standing Bear again, or fear that, if she did, she'd haul off and throttle him because she was so angry.
     
    She hadn't heard hide nor hair from the man since they'd parted three days ago. How dare he leave her like this? The least any gentleman could do after ravishing an innocent woman and introducing her to all manner of heinously improper acts of physical lust was to say thank-you before riding off on his painted pony.
     
    Of course, Standing Bear was no gentleman.
     
    Still, it cut to the quick that he had given his word, and then broken it without so much as a good-bye.
     
    "Come on, Sally. " Her sister Alyssa pulled at her arm, snapping her out of her stormy thoughts. "It's time for supper and I promised Mrs. Tompkins that we'd help at the serving table. "
     
    She'd managed to avoid the trading grounds all morning, under the guise of baking pies. But it seemed her time had run out.
     
    "You've been moping around long enough. Stars above, I don't know what's gotten into you for the past few days, but it's going to end right now. "
     
    "The pies are still too hot to carry, " she protested unenthusiastically. She knew Standing Bear would be there, and she didn't know if she could get that close to him without doing something they'd both regret. Like murder the obstinate man in front of everyone. Or throw herself at his feet and beg.
     
    It was mid-afternoon, and the wagon train had taken a rare day of rest in the wide river valley where they were trading with the Arapaho and Cheyenne. The Indians had camped on the other side of the river the night before, and this afternoon they would share a feed, to celebrate a successful day of peaceful trading.
     
    "Don't be ridiculous. We can carry the pies with a towel or something. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were afraid of those savages. Now, let's go. "
     
    "They're not savages, " she countered automatically. At least most of them weren't.
     
    "Well, then. "
     
    Sally reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged up the long line of wagons to the huge meadow where the trading had begun early that morning. The clearing was a riot of rippling colors, sounds and smells, dotted with scores of