Free Tykota's Woman (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon

fear. She
didn't trust him. It was him she feared.

    She stepped quickly away from him, hiding
her trembling hands behind her back. "I thought
you had left me."
    He glowered at her, then turned away to gaze
at the sky. "Why would I bring you this far, only
to leave you?"
    She had no answer. "I'm thirsty."
    "I am sorry, Makinna, but you drank the last
of the water this morning. There is a water hole
nearby, but it is unfit for drinking. You will have
to wait until we reach the springs." He gauged
the position of the sun and then turned his gaze
to the distant hills. "We should reach the springs
by full sunrise."
    Makinna's footsteps lagged as she rounded a
huge sandstone rock and glanced out over the
endless dry desert plains. She could not go on.
The sun was barely up, but already the heat
was as punishing as the inside of an oven. She
stumbled and fell and simply didn't have
enough strength to regain her footing. She
stayed there, with a sob building in her
parched throat.
    "What kind of a man are you?" she cried out.
"You aren't even human. Don't you ever falter
or suffer any kind of weakness? Don't you ever
get tired, hungry, or thirsty?"

    She raised her head and watched him
disappear. Would he leave her here to die? She
was just too exhausted to go any farther.
    She lay her head on the sand, her body and
spirits drained. She would never leave this spot.
She would die here, and someone, years from
now, would find her bleached bones. She closed
her eyes, waiting, almost welcoming death to
take her.
    But that was not to be. A shadow fell across
her face, and she glanced up to see Tykota
standing over her. Why didn't he just go away
and allow her to die in peace?
    Instead of rebuking her, as she expected he
bent down and gathered her into his strong arms.
Limply, she laid her head against his shoulder,
too tired to protest or even care.
    The sun was so hot, she could hardly breathe.
She felt she was being consumed by flames. And
she was so weak.
    "Do not go to sleep on me, Makinna. There is
water just over that next hill. Look, you can see
it in the distance. You have to stay awake until
we get there."
    If she had the strength, she'd defy him and
throw his demands back in his face, she
thought wearily. He could not order her to
stay awake no matter how many times he
demanded it of her. She was only vaguely
aware that he was walking very fast, and she
wondered where he found the energy.

    Tykota could barely feel Makinna's breath
against his neck. If he didn't get her to water
soon, she would die. His strength must not fail
him now; he could not lose her. She had
trudged along, uncomplaining; even when she
was weary unto death. He had sensed by her
defense of him at Adobe Springs that she was
an extraordinary woman. Now he knew it to
be true. What was more, she had feared him
then, and she feared him now. But that night
at Adobe Springs, her kindness had been
stronger than her fear. And her courage had
carried her farther than most women could
have managed.
    No, he could not let her die.
    Makinna thought she must be dreaming when
she felt cool water wash over her. Opening her
eyes, she met Tykota's gaze. The water was real!
Tykota had waded into a spring with her in his
arms.
    He gently set her on her feet, supporting her
with one hand while he cupped the other,
filled it with water, then held it up to her
mouth. She dipped her head and drank
thirstily.
    "Not too much at first. Take small sips," he
instructed. He dipped his hand into the water
once more and offered her another drink.
    In no time Makinna felt revived enough to
duck down and allow the water to wash over her head. Laughing weakly, she came up for air.
"I wish this was deep enough to swim in."

    Tykota watched her in fascination as she
shook water from her hair and pushed wet
strands out of her face. "Do you swim?"
    "Of course. My brother taught me one
summer." She smiled. "But I could never