Forbidden Fires (20 page)

Dressing in the buckskins he had bought the day before, he left the room and walked into the morning sunshine. The soldiers were already up and about. Some were drilling in the center of the compound, others currying their horses or cleaning their weapons.

Nearing the Army hospital, he decided to go in and pay Scott and Nate a visit. Early as it was, he found the two cowhands already awake. They had pushed their beds together and were engaged in a lively game of five-card stud when he entered the room.

They exchanged the usual greetings, and then Scott and Nate exchanged worried glances.

“I think you should tell him,” Nate told Scott. “He’s got a right to know.”

“Tell me what?” Rafe asked.

“After the attack, me and Nate found Web in a ditch. He was in a bad way, all shot up, arrows sticking out of him like quills on a porcupine.” Scott’s face paled with the memory.

“Go on,” Rafe urged.

“He was in a bad way,” Scott repeated. “Just before he passed out, he said he’d seen a white man with the Indians. He said it looked like Abner Wylie.”

“Wylie!” Rafe exclaimed.

Scott nodded. “We didn’t want to say anything the other day when Miss Caitlyn was here, didn’t want to worry her none.”

Rafe nodded.

“Anyway, me and Nate have given it a lot of thought. Supposin’ old Web was right? Supposin’ Wylie was behind that attack? What are we gonna do?”

Rafe shook his head. “I don’t know. You boys didn’t see him, did you?”

Nate shook his head. “No.”

“You were right not to mention this in front of Caitlyn,” Rafe remarked. “Let’s just keep it to ourselves for now.”

Scott and Nate exchanged looks and then both men nodded.

“You’re the boss,” Scott said.

“Yeah. Thanks for telling me about Wylie.”

Rafe stayed a few more minutes, and then left.

Abner Wylie. Rafe grunted thoughtfully. Was it possible that Wylie had somehow teamed up with the Indians, that he had offered them as much beef as they could run off if they would help him attack the herd? Was Wylie so mean-spirited, so set on revenge, that he would not only put Caitlyn’s life in danger, but see innocent men killed? And if it was true, how could he prove it now that Web was dead?

Troubled, he wandered across the compound and out through the gates of the fort until he found himself in the midst of the Crow encampment that was set up adjacent to the fort.

A muscle worked in Rafe’s jaw. The Lakota and the Crow were ancient enemies, the hatred between them growing stronger and more virulent when the Crow started scouting for the Army. Rafe could understand the Lakota’s hatred. He, too, despised the Crow for leading the white men against the Indians.

Farther on, Rafe saw a pair of lodges set up a good distance from the others. As he watched, he saw a lanky, red-headed corporal emerge from one of the lodges, a satisfied smirk on his face as he adjusted his trousers. A short time later, a Crow warrior stepped out of the second lodge, a bottle of amber liquid half-hidden in the folds of a blanket.

Rafe frowned. Apparently someone was selling women and whiskey to red men and white men alike, and no doubt making a hefty profit from both.

“What’s your pleasure?”

Rafe glanced over his shoulder to see a tall man with greasy black hair and stained teeth coming up behind him.

The man smiled. “Your pleasure?” he repeated. “Whiskey to warm your belly, or a woman to warm your blood?”

“Neither,” Rafe retorted.

“Too early in the day for ya?” the man asked amiably. Digging a toothpick from his shirt pocket, he began digging around in his back teeth.

“Yeah,” Rafe agreed. “Too early.”

“That’s a shame,” the man said. “I got me a pretty lil Injun gal. She don’t have much fight left in her, but she’s as soft as her name. Summer Wind—”

“What?” Rafe grabbed the man by the front of his greasy buckskin shirt. “What did you say?”

“I got me a pretty lil Injun—” the man began.

“Her name!” Rafe demanded. “What did you say her name was?”

“Summer Wind.” The man’s face paled at the fury building in the half-breed’s eyes. “Forget it,” he said, trying to free himself from Rafe’s grip. “You wouldn’t like her.”

“Where is she?”

“Tent on the left.” The man grinned wolfishly at the thought of selling the Indian girl again so soon. “Hey!” he hollered as Rafe released him and started toward the lodge. “Payment in advance.”

But Rafe didn’t hear him. His face taut, he walked to the lodge and ducked inside.

She was sitting on a pile of filthy buffalo robes, her long black hair falling in a tangled mass over her bare shoulders and breasts. Even in the dim light, he could see the ugly bruises and welts on her arms and neck, the dark shadows under her eyes. She didn’t look up when he entered the lodge, only fell back on the furs and closed her eyes, at resigned expression on her face.

“Summer Wind.”

She shuddered at the mention of her name, but did not look at him.

“Summer Wind.”

She recognized his voice then and her eyelids flew open. She stared at him for a long time, and then shame flooded her eyes with tears. Grabbing one of the robes, she drew it over her nakedness. “Go away.”

Muttering an oath, Rafe lifted her into his arms and held her close. “What are you doing here?” he demanded gruffly.

“Please, Stalking Wolf, go away. I am ashamed to have you see me like this.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell you’re doing here.”

“I ran away from our People,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “After you were banished, no one would speak to me. My own father would not acknowledge me, and so I ran away. It was a foolish thing to do, I know that now. But I thought if I could find our brothers, the Cheyenne, they might take me in.”

Summer Wind shuddered convulsively. “Instead, the man, Beech, found me wandering across the plains, half-dead. He nursed me back to health and then brought me here.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“I do not know. It seems like a very long time.”

“Do you want to stay here?”

“No!”

Rafe nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Summer Wind shook her head, fear evident in her expression. “Beech will not like it.”

“I don’t give a damn what he likes. Where are your clothes?”

“I have none.”

“He can’t keep you naked all the time.”

“No, but he keeps my clothes in his lodge so I will not run away.”

Rafe touched the ugly bruise on her arm. “Did he do this?”

“Yes.”

He swore softly as he lifted her to her feet, then removed his shirt. “Here, put this on.”

Summer Wind did as she was told. His shirt was warm and fell almost to her knees and as it covered her nakedness, she felt a rush of hope. Stalking Wolf was there. He had come to save her from a life of shame. Her eyes moved over him. She had forgotten how very handsome he was, how tall, how strong.

She frowned when she saw the bandage swathed around his middle. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

Beech was waiting outside, his arms folded across his chest. He frowned when Rafe stepped out of the lodge, followed by Summer Wind.

“Hey,” Beech exclaimed. “Where do you think you’re going with my whore?”

“She’s not yours any longer,” Rafe said curtly. “Now, get the hell outta my way.”

“Not so fast, half-breed. You can’t just waltz in here and walk away with my livelihood.”

“Watch me.”

“They got laws against stealing,” Beech whined.

“They’ve got laws against what you’re doing, too,” Rafe retorted sardonically.

“They do not!”

“Then I’m making one.”

“Like hell!” Beech reached behind his back, withdrawing a long-bladed knife from the sheath on his belt.

Summer Wind’s eyes grew wide as Beech advanced on Stalking Wolf. Her eyes flew to the bandage at his side. He had been wounded, she thought, and not long ago, else he would not still be wearing a bandage.

Rafe swore under his breath. Every time he got involved with Summer Wind, someone came after him with a knife. But this time he was unarmed.

He grabbed a stout stick from the ground, using it to parry the other man’s knife thrusts. Beech attacked and retreated, attacked and retreated, his thin lips pulled back to expose his rotting teeth.

And then Beech got careless. It was the moment Rafe had been waiting for. He swung the stick in a high arc, and brought it crashing down on Beech’s wrist.

With a howl of pain, Beech dropped the knife and Rafe was on him, his fists swinging relentlessly, driving into the man’s face and throat. There was a sharp crack as Beech’s nose broke and blood washed over Rafe’s hands. Beech went limp and Rafe released him and stood up. As he struggled to catch his breath, he saw that a crowd had gathered.

“What the hell’s going on here?” The question came from a short, barrel-chested soldier wearing captain’s bars.

Briefly, Rafe explained what had happened, and the captain nodded. “You’d best get the squaw out of here,” he suggested. “My men won’t be too happy about your making off with their only source of entertainment.”

Rafe nodded.

“All right, men,” the captain said. “Let’s break it up. The show’s over.”

Rafe let out a long breath, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He saw the gratitude in Summer Wind’s eyes, and behind the gratitude he saw the stirrings of old feelings. For the first time since he had heard Summer Wind’s name on Beech’s lips, he thought of Caitlyn.

He doubted if all the fast talking in the world would be enough to get him out of this.

Caitlyn stared at the Indian girl who stood near the window clad in Rafe’s shirt. She was at a loss for words. She had listened patiently to Rafe’s explanation, hardly aware of what he was saying as she took in the girl’s bare brown legs, the way her breasts filled the front of the shirt, the way her black eyes adoringly followed Rafe’s every move. She could hardly believe her ears when Rafe said Summer Wind would be going back to the Circle C with them.

Because she could not quite handle this startling bit of news, Caitlyn changed the subject.

“I went to see Scott and Nate,” she said. “They’re both looking much better, but the doctor wants to keep them in bed for another week.” Ordinarily, the fact that her men were recovering so well would have made Caitlyn smile, but she could not smile now, not with Summer Wind standing there, looking vulnerable and in need of comfort.

Rafe nodded. “Caty, why don’t you sit down? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn said. She looked at Rafe, her eyes searching his.
Why have you brought her here?
she wanted to cry.
Why is she looking at you like that?

“I’m going to take Summer Wind over to the infirmary and have the doc take a look at her,” Rafe said. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow, early.”

Caitlyn nodded, too numb to speak. It was easy to see the Indian girl still cared for Rafe. Did Rafe still care for Summer Wind?

She went to the window and watched her husband and the Indian girl cross the compound. She’d been living in a fantasy world, Caitlyn thought dully, foolishly assuming that Rafe loved her just because he enjoyed sharing her bed. Would he leave her now that his first love had come back to him? Would she be able to let him go?

Chapter Sixteen

They had been on the trail for two days, a long two days.

Caitlyn rode in silence, her thoughts turned inward. Rafe had left what little money he had with Scott and Nate. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tide them over until they were well enough to return to the Circle C. The state of hers and Rafe’s finances preyed on Caitlyn’s mind. She had been counting on the money from the sale of the herd and now, instead of returning home with over nine thousand dollars, they were broke. She had made several scathing remarks about the Indians who had stolen over eight hundred head of prime cattle and killed four men, but Rafe did not share her feelings. He lamented the loss of the men, but he was philosophical about the loss of the herd.

“They’re hungry, Caitlyn,” he had said, referring to the Indians as if that justified everything.

“We’re liable to go hungry, too,” Caitlyn had retorted unsympathetically.

Rafe had looked at her for a long time, his eyes sad. “I lived with the Lakota, Caty,” he reminded her. “The buffalo are disappearing. The People are hungry. What would
you
do if your children were crying, your parents were starving? Dying?”

“I’d get a job,” Caitlyn had retorted, but she had known her answer was unfair, and that Rafe’s point had been well made. Nevertheless, the fact remained that the money she had been counting on was gone. The Circle C needed repairs, the bank loan had to be paid off, and the payroll had to be met.

But those were not the thoughts that haunted her now. For the tenth time in an hour she gazed surreptitiously at the Indian girl. Summer Wind was beautiful. Her freshly washed hair was thick, black, and glossy, making Caitlyn feel that her own blonde hair was washed out and lifeless in comparison. Summer Wind’s skin was a smooth reddish brown, her eyes large and dark, fringed by sooty lashes. And her figure was faultless. She stayed close to Rafe, taking every opportunity to touch him. And because she spoke very little English, they conversed in Lakota, making Caitlyn feel like an outsider.

Resentment swelled in Caitlyn’s heart as she saw Summer Wind smile at Rafe. She resented the Indian girl’s presence in their lives. But stronger than her resentment was the jealousy that boiled in her veins, deep and hot and ready to explode. She had never experienced anything like it before and it frightened and repelled her.

Rafe was well aware of Caitlyn’s turbulent emotions; his own were equally unsettled. He had thought all his feelings for Summer Wind had died with Hump Back Bear, but he discovered he was not immune to her beauty or her smile. She had been the first woman he had ever had affection for, and he was surprised to find he still cared for her, though not in the same way he cared for Caitlyn. But he had no time to try and untangle his feelings now. They were in hostile country, and he needed to keep his wits sharp and his eyes open. He could not afford to relax his vigilance by letting himself ponder the two very different women riding beside him.

Summer Wind took over the preparation of dinner that night. She was accustomed to skinning game and cooking it over a camp-fire. Caitlyn made no objection when Summer Wind took the rabbit from Rafe’s hand, but Rafe saw the flicker of anger in Caty’s eyes. He shook his head ruefully, wondering how the Lakota warriors who had more than one wife kept peace in the lodge.

When the rabbit was cooked, Summer Wind offered Stalking Wolf the biggest portion, then divided what was left between herself and Caitlyn. She knew the white woman objected to her presence, and the thought made her smile. Stalking Wolf had been Summer Wind’s favorite suitor. She knew he had once loved her; he had killed a man because of her. Perhaps, if she were very lucky and very clever, she could win him back again.

Rafe sat between the two women while they ate, aware of the ever-growing tension that hummed between them. Summer Wind was all smiles as she chatted with him about old times, her liquid black eyes warm when she gazed at him.

Caitlyn remained mute, her expression sullen. She did not appear to be paying any attention to Rafe and Summer Wind, but she was acutely aware of every smile that passed between them, of the many excuses Summer Wind found to reach out and touch Rafe’s arm, his thigh, his hand.

Caitlyn rose to her feet, unable to watch the two of them any longer. “Excuse me,” she said coldly, and turning on her heel, she stalked into the darkness, tears stinging her eyes and burning her throat.

She walked for a long time, unmindful of the distance, heedless of the danger of straying so far from camp. The night was warm and dark, comforting, somehow. Here, alone, she could let her tears flow unchecked. She was losing Rafe to the Indian girl and she didn’t know how to fight it. Perhaps there was no way to fight it. Rafe had said he liked living with the Indians; perhaps he would take Summer Wind and return to the Black Hills. She knew he could not return to the Lakota, but another tribe might take him in.

She heard muffled footsteps and then Rafe was standing behind her, his arms folding around her waist.

“Come back to camp, Caty,” he said, his voice low, his breath warm when it whispered against her ear.

“Why should I?”

“Because I want you to.”

“You don’t need me. You’ve got Summer Wind to keep you company.”

“You’re my wife,” he reminded her.

“Does
she
know that?”

“Of course she knows.”

“But she doesn’t care.”

“What do you mean?” It was a stupid question, he knew exactly what she meant.

“She’s always flirting with you, touching you, talking to you in her language so I can’t understand. She’s still in love with you,” Caitlyn said bitterly. “A blind man could see that.”

“She’s just grateful because I got her away from Beech, that’s all.”

Caitlyn made a very unladylike sound of disgust.

“Caty…”

“Send her away, Rafe. I don’t want her here.”

“I can’t, Caty.”

“I understand.” She turned to face him. “You’re still in love with her.”

“No.” Rafe shook his head. “I don’t love her, not the way you mean. But I feel responsible for her. I can’t just abandon her.”

“Fine.” She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

“Caty.”

“I’m going back to camp,” she said curtly. “I’m tired.”

“Dammit, Caitlyn, why can’t you understand?”

“I understand only too well,” she retorted, and all the while a little voice told her to keep still, that she was only making things worse. Behaving like a shrew would only send Rafe into Summer Wind’s arms.

With her head high, she started toward camp, but Rafe would not let her go. Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her against him. She uttered a little shriek of pain, certain he had jerked out a handful of her hair. But before she could lash out at him, he was kissing her, his mouth hard, brutal, his arms holding her captive. He kissed her as if he wanted to hurt her, and he did hurt her, the force of his kiss grinding her lips against her teeth. And then his tongue plunged into her mouth like a dancing flame of fire, searing all else from her mind, draining all the strength from her limbs, leaving her limp and pliant in his arms.

She was dazed and breathless when he took his mouth from hers. His eyes were dark, ablaze with passion and some mysterious expression she could not fathom.

“Rafe.” Her eyes searched his. “Tell me you love me, only me.”

“Stalking Wolf? Are you there?”

Rafe cursed under his breath as Summer Wind’s voice broke the stillness. He kissed Caitlyn one more time, a short quick kiss of promise, and then he let her go.

“We’re here,” he called.

Summer Wind moved through the trees until she found him. As she had suspected, he had not gone to check on the horses, but on his woman. She glanced from Stalking Wolf to Caitlyn and felt a sense of victory. Whatever had been about to happen between them had been thwarted by her approach.

“I was afraid,” Summer Wind said, slipping her arm through Rafe’s and smiling up at him. “Beech found me at night.”

Rafe nodded. “Let’s go back to camp and get some sleep. Caty?”

She nodded. Ignoring the hand he offered her, she started toward camp, her back rigid, her palms fairly itching with the desire to slap Summer Wind’s face. Afraid indeed! The girl wouldn’t be afraid of a two-headed snake.

Caitlyn slept little that night, and in the morning there were dark shadows under her eyes. Summer Wind looked lovely and well-rested. There was a glow in the Indian girl’s eyes, a smile on her lips, as she made breakfast and carried it to Rafe.

Caitlyn refused to speak to him all day, even though she knew that she was being childish, and that such behavior would only drive him farther away. But she was afraid. So afraid.

Fear of losing Rafe to Summer Wind turned to terror for her own life as they topped a low rise later that day and rode into the midst of a dozen warriors.

Caitlyn stared in horror at the hideous paint that streaked their faces, the scalps that fluttered from their lance tips, and the feathers entwined in their long black hair.

She turned frightened eyes on Rafe, her heart hammering a wild tattoo. These were the people who had killed her brothers and her father. Would she now meet the same horrible fate? Her gaze settled on a long blonde scalp, so similar to her own, and she felt her own scalp prickle as she imagined one of the warriors hacking off her hair and attaching it to a scalp pole.

Rafe felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as the warriors boxed them in. They were Cheyenne, allies of the Lakota, but he recognized none of them. He felt a quick stab of fear as the warriors gazed admiringly at Caitlyn and Summer Wind. The braves were armed and painted for war. It would be a great coup to kill him and capture the women.

He raised his right hand in the traditional sign of peace, but before he could speak, Summer Wind rode toward one of the warriors.

“Hou, sic’esi,”
she said, smiling. “Hello, cousin.”

Shinte Galeska frowned and then smiled.
“Hou, hankasi,”
he replied. “You are far from home.”

“I have come for a visit,” Summer Wind said cheerfully. “This is my husband, Stalking Wolf.”

Shinte Galeska kneed his horse forward and the two men grasped forearms in greeting.

“Who is the white woman?” Shinte Galeska asked.

“A slave,” Summer Wind answered with a wave of her hand. “Pay her no mind.”

Rafe threw Summer Wind a warning glance, but she only smiled archly and asked her cousin how his wife and family were.

Caitlyn stared at the Indians uneasily as Summer Wind conversed with them. Her palms were coated with sweat and her mouth was suddenly dry as Summer Wind waved a negligent hand in her direction. The smile on the Indian girl’s face made Caitlyn decidedly uneasy. What was going on?

Summer Wind reined her horse alongside that of the warrior she had been talking to and they started back the way the Indians had come. The other warriors raced ahead, leaving Caitlyn and Rafe to follow in the rear.

“What’s going on?” Caitlyn asked nervously. “Where are we going?”

“To their village.”

“Their village!” Caitlyn exclaimed. “Why?”

“It seems one of the warriors is Summer Wind’s cousin. She told him that I was her husband and that we had come for a visit.”

“What did she say about me?”

Rafe chewed the inside of his lip a moment before answering. “She told him you were our slave.”

Caitlyn glared at Rafe, unable to believe her ears. “How could you let her tell such a lie?”

“What did you want me to do, call her a liar in front of her cousin?

“I guess not,” Caitlyn muttered. No wonder Summer Wind had looked so smug. A slave, indeed!

The Cheyenne camp was laid out in a large circle with tipis of various sizes. Most were painted with moons or suns and stick figures representing horses or people, deer or buffalo.

Caitlyn’s anger at Rafe quickly dissipated as she was surrounded by Indians and she stayed close to his side, needing to be near him, to feel his strength. Surely he would not let these savages harm her.

“Relax, Caty,” Rafe murmured, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll only be here a day or two.”

A day or two,
Caitlyn thought. She could stand anything for a day or two.

The Indians stared at her, fascinated by her long blonde hair and bright green eyes. They pointed at her as though she were some rare species of animal, talking rapidly in a harsh guttural tongue, occasionally reaching out to touch her fair skin, or stroke her hair. She cringed at their touch, was humiliated by their laughter.

Shinte Galeska took them to his lodge and introduced Rafe to his wife, Rainbow Woman, a tall, slender woman with enormous black eyes, a wide forehead, and a generous mouth.

Summer Wind and Rainbow Woman hugged each other, then sat down on a pile of furs and began the pleasant task of bringing each other up to date on what had happened since they had last seen each other.