Feather in the Wind (11 page)

“I would like to believe you.”

Some of the tension drained out of her. Perhaps he was going to be reasonable after all.

“But I cannot.”

She’d had no idea he could move so fast. In spite of her struggles and her promises not to try to run away, he quickly lashed her hands behind her back, then tied her to the tree.

“I hate you for this,” she cried. “I’ll never forgive you. Never.”

“Never is a long time.” He slid his knuckles over her cheek, then removed his coat and draped it around her shoulders. He regarded her for a long moment, and then turned away, and she had the feeling he had put her out of his mind.

Gathering the reins, he swung into the saddle and rode away, leaving her there with nothing but the wind and her own dark thoughts for company.

Thoughts of home flooded Susannah’s mind as she stood there. How long had she been gone? Was the passage of time in the past the same as it was in the present? If she found her way back home, would she find that she had been gone for months or for only a few days? If she found her way back home, how would she explain where she had been, and who would believe her? She had always thought time travel to be right up there with alien abductions and stories of Big Foot.

With a sigh, she sank down to the ground, rested the back of her head against the tree trunk, and closed her eyes.

She didn’t want to go to Black Wind’s village and live with his people. She wanted to go home. She missed sleeping in her own bed. She missed going to the movies and listening to the radio. She missed her parents and Vivian. She missed writing every day. She had missed a Michael Bolton concert, a date with Anthony and the meeting with her agent.

If she found herself miraculously at home again, she would miss Black Wind…

Damn the man! Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath and stared toward the town. Where was he?

She was almost asleep when she heard the sound of hoofbeats.

Straightening, she peered into the darkness, and he was there, riding out of the shadows of the night like some phantom warrior.

He rode into a patch of silver moonlight, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. How magnificent he looked. Regal was the word that came to mind. Like a knight of old, he sat the stallion with easy grace. For a moment, their eyes met, and then he swung out of the saddle. Only then did she notice he was leading a second horse.

He bent over her and cut the rope that bound her to the tree, then untied her hands.

She stood up, rubbing her wrists, wondering where he had gotten the horse.

He withdrew something from his saddlebags and thrust it into her hands.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Clothes. Get dressed.”

She unrolled the bundle and found a pair of men’s corduroy pants, a dark green wool shirt and a pair of boots. “That’s all?”

He frowned at her. “What more do you need?”

“Something to wear underneath.”

His frown deepened.

“Don’t Indian women wear…never mind.”

He turned away while she dressed. The pants were snug, the shirt too big, but they were warmer than her nightgown, and far more suitable to riding. She pulled on the boots, wishing for a pair of socks. They were a little too big, but not much. She rolled her nightgown into a ball and tucked it under her arm.

“Here.” He thrust what looked like a hunk of beef jerky into her hand. “Let’s go.”

“Where did you get all this stuff? The horse?”

“I stole it.”

“You didn’t!”

He shrugged. “Among my people, it is considered a coup to steal from the enemy.”

“Not where I come from.”

“You are here now,” he reminded her with a wry grin. “Hurry. We must go before someone misses the horse.”

Susannah stuck the jerky in her mouth, stuffed her nightgown into one of the saddlebags tied behind her saddle, then stared at the horse. It was brown, with a black mane and tail and black on its legs. Grabbing hold of the pommel with both hands, she shoved her foot into the stirrup and pulled herself onto the horse’s back. Black Wind adjusted the stirrups for her, handed her the reins, then mounted his own horse.

“Su-san-nah?”

“What?”

“Do not try to run away. There is no place for you to go.”

She nodded curtly to show she understood.

He studied her face for a moment and then, apparently satisfied, he reined his horse east. For a moment, she gazed longingly at the town. It wasn’t much, just a tiny island of civilization in a vast sea of grass, but at least it was civilization of a sort.

She glanced at Black Wind. He was riding away, seemingly unaware that she wasn’t following. Yet she knew, knew, that he would be after her quicker than a hungry cat chasing a mouse if she didn’t follow.

Heaving a sigh, she gave her horse a nudge in the side with her heel and the animal lurched forward, then broke into a bone-jarring trot as it hurried to catch up with the stallion.

“He might have at least asked if I knew how to ride a horse,” she muttered.

Certain she was going to be bounced out of the saddle with every step, she clung to the reins with one hand and the horse’s mane with the other.

She didn’t know where they were going, but she hoped it wouldn’t take long to get there.

Chapter Eleven

They rode until late afternoon, stopping every hour or so to rest and water the horses. Susannah marveled at the vastness of the plains, the endless blue vault of the sky. The rolling grassland seemed to stretch away into forever. Here and there, stands of timber rose from the midst of the prairie. Sometimes they passed depressions in the earth that Black Wind told her were buffalo wallows. Once, they crossed a narrow stream.

Black Wind handed her a hunk of dried beef at their second stop.

“Jerky and water,” Susannah muttered under her breath. As lunches went, it wasn’t much but at least it took the edge off her hunger.

She was bone-tired, stiff and sore in muscles she’d never known she possessed by the time they made camp. Feeling as if she was a hundred years old, Susannah climbed out of the saddle. Her legs felt like rubber and she would likely have fallen flat on her face if Black Wind hadn’t been there to catch her.

“What is wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Are you sick?”

“No, I am not sick.” She tried to push him away. It was like trying to move a mountain.

“Tell me what is wrong.”

“Wrong! Wrong! You want to know what’s wrong?” She pounded her fists against his chest. It was like hitting a mountain too. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. You’ve dragged me over a million miles of grass. I’ve never been on a horse in my whole life until I met you. My legs hurt. My back hurts. My neck hurts. My shoulders hurt. My…my backside…”

She broke off, glaring up at him as a slow smile curved his lips. “What?” she shouted. “Why are you looking at me like that, you big jerk?”

He lifted one black brow. “Jerk? I do not know this word.”

“It means stupid male chauvinist idiot.” She tried again to escape his grasp, but he held her against him, exerting just enough power to hold her in place without hurting her.

Black Wind frowned down at her. “You are angry with me.”

Well, she thought, that was the understatement of the year. “Angry doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“Su-san-nah…”

“Don’t call me that.” No one else had ever said her name the way he did, slowly, almost reverently.

“It is your name.”

“I know,” she said, feeling miserable. “Please, just let me go. I have to find my way home.”

“I cannot let you go.” He lifted one hand, let his fingertips slide through the silkiness of her hair, captivated by the fire in her eyes, the angry flush in her cheeks.

Susannah felt her anger fade at his touch. How could she stay mad at a man who touched her so gently, who looked at her with such obvious concern? “Did you really see me in a vision?”

Black Wind nodded.

The eagle feather fluttered at the movement, drawing Susannah’s gaze. “And you don’t know what it means?”

“No.”

“What will your people say when they see me?”

“The women will be jealous because you are so beautiful,” he replied, grinning, “and the young men will look at me with envy.”

“Ohhh…”

She tried to summon her anger, to remind herself that he had kidnapped her, that she wanted to go home, but as Black Wind lowered his head and claimed her lips with his, none of that seemed to matter.

She slid her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. She felt the length of his body against her own and pressed closer, closer, and thought how well they fit together, how smooth his skin was beneath her hands, how beautiful his eyes were. Her fingers delved into his hair, long black hair that felt like coarse silk.

His tongue dueled with hers in sweet intimacy, making her forget everything, making her think of sparkling champagne and satin sheets and moonlight dancing on the ocean.

She heard a low moan and wondered if it had come from his throat or hers.

“Su-san-nah?” His lips slid down her throat, lingering at the pulse beating there.

It would be so easy to give in, to surrender to the touch of his hands and lips, to let him ease the fierce desire burning through her. No other man had ever made her feel the way he made her feel, but if she let him hold her and kiss her, she feared she would never be able to leave him. And she didn’t want to stay here, in this time. She didn’t belong here. She never would.

“Let me go.”

Black Wind went suddenly still and then, slowly, he released her and took a step backward, his hands clenched at his sides. He was breathing heavily, but no more heavily than was she.

“We need wood for a fire,” he said gruffly.

She looked at him blankly for a moment, then nodded and walked away, wishing, perversely, that he had refused to let her go. Coward, she thought, hating herself for it. But it would be so much easier if he would just force himself on her. She wouldn’t have to make the decision then.

She walked along, picking up kindling as she went. She knew she would never find her way home, never be able to leave him, if she let him make love to her.

When she returned to camp, he had the horses unsaddled and hobbled and was sitting cross-legged on the ground, skinning a small animal that looked suspiciously like a bunny. She dumped the wood on the ground and turned away, unable to watch him gut the furry little thing.

It was full dark by the time he finished.

“Build a fire,” he said.

“I don’t know how.” She pointed at the skinned carcass. “And before you ask, I don’t know how to cook whatever that is over a fire either.”

He looked at her skeptically for a moment, then cleared a patch of ground, laid a fire and had the meat on a spit and cooking in practically no time at all.

Susannah sat down, warming her hands, while he disposed of the entrails. The aroma of roasting meat made her stomach growl. She tried not to think that the rabbit had been alive, whiskers twitching, only a few minutes ago.

He didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge her presence in any way, yet the tension between them was palpable. She was aware of every breath he took, every move he made. She watched him take the rabbit from the spit and split the carcass down the middle. He placed one half on a tin plate, uncapped a canteen and filled a tin cup with water, then handed both to her.

“Black Wind…”

“Eat.”

She hated the silence between them. It wore on her nerves. But if he could stand it, so could she. Determined to ignore him, as he was so easily ignoring her, she tore a piece of meat from the chunk on her plate and popped it into her mouth. It burned her tongue and brought tears to her eyes. Refusing to let him know, she gulped it down, then took a long drink of water.

Muttering under her breath, she pulled the meat apart so it would cool faster. She couldn’t believe she was here, sitting on the ground, eating one of Thumper’s relatives. She couldn’t believe Black Wind had seen her in a vision, and yet it had to be true. He had described her, had described his photograph, perfectly. He couldn’t have made it up.

So, he had seen her in a vision. What did it mean? Why was she really here? How would she ever get home?

She slid a furtive glance in his direction. The feather. It was the key. Somehow, she had to get it back. And then what? It hadn’t zapped her back to her own time the last time she had tried. Maybe the feather had nothing to do with her being here at all.

Overcome with a wave of homesickness, she set her plate aside and stared into the fire. Never, in all her life, had she felt so lost, so alone.

She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t! What was the use?

She stiffened as she felt Black Wind’s arm slide around her waist. She wanted to resist, to tell him to go away and leave her alone. Instead, she slid onto his lap and laid her head against his shoulder. And suddenly all the pain and loneliness melted away.

He didn’t say anything, just held her close, his strong arms gentle around her, his breath caressing her cheek. She wished it didn’t feel so good to be cradled in his arms, that it didn’t feel so right. Because they could have no future together. He belonged in the past and she didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t… Thinking about it made her head ache.

He was still holding her close when she fell asleep.