Free Comanche Moon by Virginia Brown Page A

not far away. Her heart pounded fiercely, and she felt a surge of excitement. Had Judith seen her?
    She had, and slowly, trying to disguise their intentions, the two managed to work their way toward one another.
    “Judith,” Deborah whispered when they were close; she was bent over and pretending to concentrate on scrubbing a square of cotton. “Are you all right?”
    “I’m surviving.” Judith’s bright hair was combed, but looked dark with dirt. Her face was pale, and there were scratches and bruises on her arms and face. “That she-wolf who keeps me close likes to pinch, but that’s the extent of my injuries. So far.”
    “No, don’t look at me,” Deborah warned softly when her cousin started to turn toward her. “Pretend to drop something, and we can both bend again.”
    “How are you faring?” Judith whispered. “I saw that tall Comanche drag you from camp one afternoon.” How did she explain? Deborah hesitated. “He hasn’t hurt me. Not like . . . like he could, I suppose. I mean, he only tries to talk to me, but he sounds so fierce, that he scares me at times.” Shuddering, Judith murmured, “He looks so savage that he scares me just looking at him!”
    “I don’t think he’s that savage,” Deborah said, then could have laughed at her words. Was she defending him? The strange look Judith threw her made her flush and try to explain. “He’s been kind at times, though I know that sounds odd.”
    “Somehow, I thought he was . . . uh, taken with you. I mean, I’ve seen him looking at you so intently.” Deborah pushed at a wave of hair blocking her vision and slanted a glance at her cousin. Judith looked concerned and puzzled, and she had to laugh ruefully.
    “I have no idea what’s in his mind. All I know, is that he has not harmed me. Yet.” A frown furrowed her brow. “At times, when I wake up, there are unexpected gifts. A hairbrush, for instance. Moccasins when my shoes fell apart. Two satin ribbons for my hair. I know he brought them. No one else would. Yet I know he’s waiting for something.”
    “We need to escape before something happens to you,” Judith said. She glanced around cautiously. “So far, we’ve been lucky.”
    “Let’s try to meet again soon. Can you get close to me at the stream tomorrow morning?”
    “I’ll try. But we have to be careful. If one of them notices us talking together, they’ll be more watchful.” With a quick, soft good-bye, the cousins moved apart in an aimless motion. To a casual observer, it would have seemed innocent.
    To the man standing up on the hill, it was a forewarning.

    Sunflower studied the toes of her moccasins, and Hawk watched the pouting curve of her lower lip as she reflected. Her head lifted, dark eyes appraising him.
    “But why can’t I practice my English on her? It could do no harm.”
    “I do not wish it.”
    “It would make things easier.”
    “Easy is not always the best way.” Hawk felt a surge of impatience.
    Normally, he was quite patient with his young sister. It surprised him that he suddenly felt like boxing her ears. “Do not disobey me,” he warned when the girl gave a heavy sigh and looked away from him. Her startled reply was evidence that she was aware of his tension.

    “I would not do so.”
    “You like her.”
    Sunflower nodded. “Haa.” She seemed to struggle for words, then said,
    “She is kesósooru— very gentle. And she does not screech, or whine, or complain like others I have known. She is different.”
    “Yes. She is different. Do not allow your sympathy to make trouble for her. I have not hurt her.” Sunflower looked suddenly very adult and flashed him a sly glance. “But you want her in your robes.” Making his voice stern, Hawk growled, “It is not seemly for a young maiden to speak of such things. Shall I tell old grandmother and have her take a switch to you?”
    Sunflower laughed, mischief dancing in her dark, liquid eyes. “She would have to catch me first.”
    “I