Free Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page A

in awe of the noble warrior, made a dive for Marianna, tugging on her gown, her eyes round with fright. Marianna clasped her hand, stepping back a pace, wondering why Wind Warrior had intervened. Of course, she told herself, it was for the child’s sake.
    Then Marianna remembered Wind Warrior protecting her from his brother, Dull Knife, her first day in the village. Of course she had not known who he was at that time. Now she was in awe of him, as was everyone else in the tribe.
    “Return to your friends,” Wind Warrior told White Wing. “I would speak to Marianna alone.”
    With her heart beating like a drum, Marianna watched White Wing pull back.
    Wind Warrior surely wanted to chastise her. Worse still, he might tell Broken Lance about the heated exchange between her and White Wing.
    She was in so much trouble.
    Words caught in her throat and she could not speak when Wind Warrior turned his marvelous gaze on her. All she could think about at the moment was how beautiful his eyes were—how his ebony hair shone in the sun, and how handsome he was.
    “Do you mind if I walk with you?” Wind Warrior asked, breaking into her thoughts.
    She drew Little Bird closer to her, needing something to do with her hands because they were trembling and she didn’t want Wind Warrior to notice.
    The other girls were watching her as if she had just sprouted two heads. She was sure they were wondering what Wind Warrior had to say to her—she was wondering that herself. With her heart thundering inside her, she glanced up at Wind Warrior, who was patiently waiting for her response.
    She lowered her head in a show of subservience, since she thought he would expect it of her.
    “Marianna,” he commanded, “Raise your head. Let no one make you feel less than who you are.”
    Her head came up slowly, and she met his gaze. It was difficult to find her voice, and when she did, it came out no more than a whisper. “I would not have allowed them to hurt the child.”
    He looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment. “I know that.”
    She began to walk and Wind Warrior fell into step with her. He moved with such an easy grace, Marianna felt awkward beside him. Her mind was muddled and useless. She expected him to chastise her as he had White Wing, and she dreaded it.
    For a time they walked in silence. Suddenly they veered into a narrow path and Marianna’s hand brushed against Wind Warrior’s arm. He quickly jerked away and turned his dark gaze on her.
    Even he did not want to touch her, she thought sadly, as a new longing was born inside her, though Marianna did not know what it was.
    After another long moment of silence, Marianna gathered enough courage to glance back into his face. His brow was furrowed as if he were deep in thought. She watched the breeze lift his ebony hair from honey-colored shoulders. His dark eyes held depths she could not begin to understand. Wind Warrior was the most striking man she had ever seen. In any race he would be called handsome. The white eagle feathers he wore in his hair were a sharp contrast to its dark color. He wore leggings and a beaded porcupine quill vest that left his shoulders and upper back bare.
    He glanced up and caught her watching him, and his eyes became even more intense. Again Marianna lowered her head, concentrating on the beadwork of her moccasins.
    Wind Warrior spoke at last. “I saw what happened between you and White Wing.”
    Marianna couldn’t seem to look any higher than his mouth, fearing those all-knowing eyes. “It is my understanding that an unmarried maiden is not allowed to speak to a warrior without permission.” She closed her eyes, berating herself for daring to instruct Wind Warrior on tribal laws. Was he not the one many people sought out for advice? He needed no instructions from her.
    A smile curved Wind Warrior’s mouth. “That would be so had I not first asked permission from your father.” He nodded forward. “Let us walk toward the woods. There are