Comanche Moon (47 page)

Loretta stood there, her stomach heaving, sweat trickling down the sides of her breasts. She heard Hunter yell again, the sound more distant this time. Red Buffalo was crazy, crazy with hatred. If Hunter confronted him, there was no telling what might happen.

Red Buffalo and his friends were gathered around the central fire. In the glow of firelight, Hunter could see scalps hanging from their horses’ bridles. He heard Coyote Dung bragging about the coups he had counted during the raids. Rage filmed his vision. Throwing the scalp he held into the flames, he walked up behind Red Buffalo, seized his shoulder, and spun him around.

Red Buffalo flashed a smug smile. ‘‘Your woman didn’t like the gift? I bestowed a great honor upon her, yes?’’

A dozen words bottlenecked in Hunter’s throat. They both knew the scalp hadn’t been meant to honor Loretta, but to terrify and repulse her. That Red Buffalo dared to disguise his maliciousness by pretending he had given the gift with good intentions was an affront to Hunter’s intelligence and their friendship.

Hunter slammed his fist into his cousin’s mouth. Red Buffalo reeled, staggering backward toward the fire. Hunter caught his arm, stepped to one side, and hit him again. Red Buffalo fell on his back, shaking his head and blinking.

Legs spread, fists clenched, Hunter stood over him. ‘‘Never again make grief for my woman, Red Buffalo. If you do, I will sure enough kill you.’’

Red Buffalo swiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes glittering with rage. ‘‘I am already dead to you. Since you found that yellow-hair, we are
all
dead to you. You chose
her
over me!’’

‘‘And you choose your bitterness over me!’’

Arrow Maker stepped around the fire and touched Hunter’s shoulder. ‘‘Red Buffalo meant no harm. She is your wife, yes? One with the People! She should be honored that Red Buffalo presented her with a scalp. A Comanche woman would be.’’

Hunter shook off Arrow Maker’s hand. ‘‘My woman is not Comanche. To present her with a yellow-hair’s scalp was cruel, and both of you know it.’’

Red Buffalo sat up. ‘‘Did I hear you right? Your woman is not Comanche? But, cousin, how can that be? She is your wife, accepted now as one of the People. Do you say that her loyalty is still in
tosi tivo
land? That your people are not hers?’’

Hunter clenched his teeth, struggling to keep control. After a moment he replied, ‘‘I didn’t come out here to play with words, Red Buffalo.’’

‘‘Because you have no words to defend her!’’

‘‘I must defend my woman to you? My cousin, a man who was once like a brother to me? When I look upon you, I see a stranger.’’ Hunter swung his arm toward the horses. ‘‘How many
tosi tivo
have you killed? Did you discuss making war in council? No! You cannot see beyond your hate! What will happen to our people when the
tosi tivo
retaliate? They will
die
! Hundreds of them! The rest of us have a right to choose! To decide if we want to make war or seek peace. Men like you are taking that choice away from us. You don’t fight the great fight for the good of our people, you fight for Red Buffalo!’’

Red Buffalo lurched to his feet. ‘‘The
tosi tivo
attacked us! We had no choice but to defend ourselves. Ask Arrow Maker and Coyote Dung, they will tell you.’’

Hunter curled his lip. ‘‘The
tosi tivo
had women with them! They wouldn’t have attacked twenty warriors!’’

Red Buffalo narrowed his eyes. ‘‘I am no White Eyes lover, like some I can name. Look at you! Angry because a warrior presented your woman with a scalp! Using your fists like an unblooded boy. Already she makes you soft. If you were a man, you would fight me like a man—to the death.’’

Tamping down the urge to smash Red Buffalo’s face again, Hunter unclenched his fists. ‘‘You are my cousin. My heart holds great love for you. But not so much I will let you make my woman weep. Stay away from her! If you do not, I will call a death match.’’

‘‘You forsake all that you are!’’ Red Buffalo cried. ‘‘And for what? A white woman who will turn her back on you? You call me blind? Hate me if you will, cousin. Kill me if you like! I would rather die than stand aside and watch you destroy yourself.’’

Hunter turned his back on Red Buffalo’s impassioned cries and walked away into the darkness.

An hour later he lay awake beside Loretta, staring at the firelight that played upon the walls of his lodge. Red Buffalo’s words haunted him. If Loretta had to choose, would she forsake him for her people? He knew she was awake by the sound of her breathing, but her voice still startled him when she spoke.

‘‘Hunter, what’s wrong? Surely you’re not still stewing over the scalp. It upset me, but I’m over it now.’’

He turned to regard her. There were shadows in her eyes, and she was as pale as bleached bones. ‘‘You lie, Blue Eyes. Many of your people are dead, by my cousin’s hand, and their spirits wail and call out to you.’’

‘‘It wasn’t you who killed them. That’s all that counts.’’

Hunter’s chest tightened. One day he would ride into battle again—to slay White Eyes. It was inevitable. How would she feel about that? ‘‘You are Comanche now, yes?’’ he said hopefully. ‘‘One with us.’’

Indefinable emotions played across her face. ‘‘I’m married to a Comanche. I love him. But I’ll never
be
a Comanche.’’

Hunter studied her features, once so repulsive to him, now so cherished. He ran a finger up the fragile bridge of her nose, then traced the line of her brow, acutely conscious of the small bones that shaped her face. Protectiveness welled within him.

‘‘You are one with me, one with my people. You cannot stand with one foot on Comanche land and the other on
tosi tivo
land.’’

‘‘Both my feet are here, Hunter, but part of my heart is at my wooden walls. No matter how much I love you, that will never change. You are one with me, too. Does that make you one with the
tosi tivo
?’’

An unnameable fear grew within him. He felt very much as he had several summers ago when he had been caught in a flash flood, swept along by the raging water. The Comanche struggle for survival was like that, surging forward, catching up everyone in its path. Men like Red Buffalo fed its fury.

‘‘I am filled with fear,’’ Hunter whispered. ‘‘For my people and for you. Red Buffalo did not go on a hunt. He went raiding. He called no council. Many of the People feel that keeping peace with the
tosi tivo
is the only way to survive. Men like Red Buffalo take the chance of peace and throw it away in the wind. The
tosi tivo
will strike back, yes? And many of my people will die. In this village, in another.’’ He placed a hand on her tousled hair, brushing his thumb through the soft strands. ‘‘If they attack, I must ride with the others to avenge our dead.’’

Loretta swallowed. ‘‘And kill my people, you mean?’’

‘‘This will make you look upon me with hate?’’

Emotions tangled into a knot inside Loretta. Red Buffalo had committed a great wrong. If white men retaliated, she wouldn’t blame them. So how could she blame Hunter if he did likewise? Suddenly she found herself in the unenviable position of seeing and understanding both sides. Harder still, she sympathized with both. Would it be any less horrible if white men harmed Blackbird than if Comanches harmed Amy?

‘‘Oh, Hunter, if I rode into this village with the
tosi tivo
and killed your people, how would you feel?’’

His face tightened. ‘‘You would kill my mother? Warrior and Maiden? The little ones?’’

‘‘No. And you wouldn’t Aunt Rachel or Amy or Uncle Henry. That isn’t the question, is it?’’

‘‘This Comanche cannot change his face.’’

‘‘And I can’t change mine.’’

He traced the hollow of her cheek, his mouth tipping into a sad smile. ‘‘I like your face, Blue Eyes. It is carved upon my heart.’’

‘‘We’re caught in the middle, aren’t we, Hunter? From the first, we knew it would come to this.’’

‘‘I will make no war on the helpless,’’ he whispered raggedly. ‘‘No women, no children. That will be good?’’

Still shy with him, she touched a finger to his bottom lip. ‘‘Could you lift your blade against a man with blue eyes and not think of me, Hunter?’’

He made a strangled sound and pulled her roughly into his arms, pressing his mouth against her hair. Neither of them spoke. There were no words. They drew comfort from the only thing they could, the warmth of each other’s arms.

The next day Hunter and Loretta escaped the tension Red Buffalo had brought with him to the village by taking off with Swift Antelope and Amy to play along the river. Swift Antelope broached the subject of the raid only once. Hunter informed him there was enough talk back in the village, that no one could know for sure if Red Buffalo had instigated the attack, and there was no point in ruining the day by worrying about it.

Loretta was glad the subject was taboo. For the first time in weeks, she felt relaxed. The tormenting questions from last night hovered in the back of her mind, waiting. But for now she chose to forget and simply enjoy being with Hunter.

Over the course of the day, he revealed to her a boyish, mischievous side that she found enchanting. One moment he played the lover, sliding his fingers lightly across the nape of her neck or down her arm as they walked. The next he was a rascal, sweeping her off her feet and threatening to toss her in the water or jumping out at her from the brush, ferocious as a bear.

Loretta’s pulse quickened at those times. She knew Hunter was only playing, but he was a little too convincing for comfort when he tried to look fierce. Beneath his gentle facade there lurked a dark side, and at those times she glimpsed it. Though he had become her friend and lover, he was also the epitome of all she had feared these last seven years. Making love with him hadn’t completely erased her memories. Sometimes she wondered if the past would haunt her forever.

Hunter disappeared once, returning a few minutes later with a bouquet of wild flowers. When Swift Antelope and Amy weren’t watching, he dragged her behind bushes to kiss her. Several times, on toward evening, he pressed his palm against her belly and raised a questioning eyebrow. Loretta blushed, well aware of what he was asking. She was still tender from his lovemaking, but not so much as the night before. Yet how could she tell him? Ladies didn’t speak of such things, not even to their husbands.

At dusk the four of them stopped en route home to sit on the riverbank under a canopy of cottonwood trees. Loretta hugged her bent knees, gazing at the reflection of leaves and fading sunlight on the water, only half-aware of Amy and Swift Antelope’s chatter. Hunter stretched out beside her, head propped on one hand, his eyes never leaving her. She was acutely conscious of his gaze, and when it started to unnerve her, she finally turned to look at him. Banked embers of passion glowed in his eyes.

Smiling, he plucked a blade of grass and feathered it along her arm, reaching up under her loose sleeve. Next he directed his attention to her leg, tracing a circle around the top of her moccasin, grazing the curve of her calf, the back of her thigh beneath her skirt. Loretta’s belly knotted, and delicious shivers coursed down her spine. She felt a blush creeping up her neck.

He was deliberately calling to her mind the things he had done to her last night, something a white man would never dream of doing, not in the company of others. Hunter had grown up running wild on the plains with other children, boys and girls alike, garbed in nothing but a bit of string and cloth. She had been stifled by rules of propriety and layer upon layer of muslin. To him, making love was as natural as eating when one was hungry or drinking to slake one’s thirst. He felt no shame, no shyness, no sense of secrecy.
I want, I take. It is a very simple thing.
It wasn’t simple, though. Not for her.

Hunter grew amused, watching Loretta. When she threw him an accusing glance, he noted that her pupils had flared until her irises were almost black. Crimson rode her cheeks, and a rosy flush colored her slender throat. He wondered if her entire body was pink and wished they were alone so he could find out.
Soon.
Tonight he would build a fire so she couldn’t hide in shadows, and he would learn every inch of her, slowly.

Her shyness tantalized him. He anticipated the time when she would come to him without reservation, but he intended to savor this stage of their relationship just as thoroughly. Like now, teasing her with a blade of grass and watching the emotions that played upon her face, imagining the moment when he could stake claim to what she guarded so jealously.

‘‘We should get back,’’ she said softly. ‘‘It’ll be getting dark soon. And I’m tired.’’

Brimming with the energy of youth, Swift Antelope and Amy leaped to their feet, eager to be gone. When Loretta stood, Hunter grasped her ankle. ‘‘We will follow later,’’ he said huskily.

Swift Antelope flashed a knowing grin and took Amy’s hand to hurry her along. Loretta gazed after them, her color deepening. When she looked down at Hunter, her eyes were wide with wariness. ‘‘Why aren’t we going now?’’

‘‘You know why.’’ He tightened his hold on her ankle and tugged her closer, rolling over onto his back to avail himself of the view. He knew she wasn’t aware of how revealing a knee-length skirt could be when a man eyed it from the ground up, and he managed to keep a straight face so she wouldn’t guess. ‘‘Come here, little one.’’

‘‘I want to go back.’’

He hoped she stood there arguing for a time. ‘‘Obey your husband.’’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘‘It’s broad daylight.’’

‘‘
Keemah,
come.’’

Growing tired of just looking when he could be touching, Hunter cocked his head and let her see him leering. He was awarded a fetching glimpse of slender, creamy thighs and honey gold. She gasped and dropped to her knees as if someone had dealt a blow to the backs of her legs.