Free Jodi Thomas by The Tender Texan

beside her as her husband.
    Clearing his throat, he tried to speak as his finger brushed the dirt from her cheek. “Why did you run? You have nothing to be afraid of among these people as long as you are careful and show no fear.”
    With a sudden jerk, Anna pulled away. “I thought you were dead. Why did you give me the knife if you didn’t want me to use it to escape?”
    Chance’s eyebrows rose as he began to put the puzzle together. “That knife means a lot to me. It was given to my father by James Bonham only a few days before Bonham rode through Santa Anna’s lines to die with his best friend, Travis, at the Alamo. I gave you the knife because Walks Tall and I fought over it the last time we saw each other. I didn’t want him seeing it again.”
    “The last time?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
    Continuing like a fool in his first poker game, Chance was oblivious to the warning in her words. “Sure, Walks Tall and I have been fighting since we were kids. A fight, for him, is an honorable way of taking what’s mine. He’s always wanted that knife but he’s never been able to take it away from me. It may not seem like much, but it means a lot to me. I pulled it from my father’s boot right before we buried him.”
    Stepping a few feet closer to Cyoty, Anna gave no sign she was even listening for a moment. When she did speak, her words were icy. “You’ve known Walks Tall for years?”
    Chance awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets. “Since we were boys. He was the only one of a group of Delawares who survived when white men raided their camp. His people had been peaceful, but there are whites who think the only good Indian is a dead one. Walks Tall must have some warrior blood in him somewhere, because he takes great pleasure in trying to kill me every time we meet.”
    Anna looked over her shoulder, her voice as low as faraway thunder. “And you let me think we were in danger for our lives.”
    Chance raised an eyebrow as he finally recognized the quicksand in her words. “I didn’t have time,” Chance quickly replied, hearing the anger in her voice. “He challenged me. I could hardly waste time talking with my squaw while he waited to fight.”
    “Your squaw ?” The rage made her green eyes sparkle like diamonds. “Tell me, oh brave savage, what were you fighting over this time?”
    Before Chance could answer, Anna had moved a step closer. Her hands were doubled into fists, ready to attack, leaving no doubt in Chance’s mind that Viking warriors were charted in her bloodline. Her voice became louder with each word. “The two of you were fighting over me, weren’t you? You risked my life over a childish test of strength. If you’d lost the fight, would I have spent the rest of my life in a tent made of hides?”
    Chance’s smile made the blood rush to Anna’s cheeks, “How could you?” she yelled. “I’m not some possession like that knife. I was almost frightened out of my mind and you were only playing a game. I’m not something to be fought over and won like a bet at a gaming table.”
    His full laughter startled her into a moment of silence, then her fist swung in anger. Chance caught it effortlessly. “Stop. You’re not only stubborn, you’ve got as quick a temper as a badger in winter.” Lowering her fist to her side, he continued. “I hate to hurt your pride, but we weren’t fighting over you; we were fighting over Cyoty.”
    “What?” Relief and embarrassment flooded through Anna’s frame, making her want to crawl back into the brush and hide.
    Laughter dripped from his words as he explained. “Walks Tall already has a woman to warm his tent, though I’m sure she’s not as fiery as you. The Delawares are very civilized as Indians go. He would never dream of taking a woman against her will, anymore than I would.”
    “Oh, he only wanted to crack your skull, not damage your wife.”
    Brushing her auburn hair away from the wound on her head, his words grew