One Hundred Horses (3 page)

Within seconds the band of horses stampeded into the creek, kicking and squealing and splashing. The racket would surely wake the entire village. She should have known better. Being a horse person, she should have known not to bolt into an open pasture full of wild horses.
What had she been thinking?
Breathing hard, and straining to see her whereabouts, Sarah stayed crouched in the tall prairie grass and chastised herself for her stupidity. She waited for the sound of warriors. Her mind raced, contemplating the terrible scenarios of what her punishment would be for trying to escape. Her hands shook and her mouth went dry.

Sarah sat there for several minutes; her eyes squeezed shut as she fervently whispered prayers. In the dark, all she could rely on were the sounds, and every one set her nerves on fire. She sat long enough that eventually she opened her eyes to find that the horses had returned to the grass and seemed to only occasionally lift their heads to blow at her unwelcome presence. She waited, but nothing happened. A nuzzle and a loud nicker at the back of her neck caused her to sprawl forward in the grass, and she bit her down her lip hard to suppress a scream. She looked behind her, wide-eyed, to see the shadow of a black stallion standing over her.

Forcing herself to calm her breathing, and standing slowly, Sarah looked around to be sure nobody was coming after her. She stood next to the horse in utter awe. The stallion was so black he was nearly invisible. The horse nuzzled her once more, gifting her with his warm breath. Without hesitation, Sarah grabbed a handful of mane and managed to swing herself up on his massive back. She held her breath, anticipating the animal bolting or spooking or throwing her. The horse did nothing but turn to give her a curious eye. With a deep breath of resolve she nudged him forward, praying he would understand and obey. One more squeeze of her legs against his sides, and the horse responded by taking a few steps before breaking into a smooth easy lope.

***

Grey Fox could not sleep. And just as well, since someone had just quietly entered his tipi. Who would have a death wish to enter at this time of night? Then he felt someone nudge him with the tip of their moccasin. Grey Fox’s reflexes were quick as he swung around and grabbed the boy by the ankle before the boy could react in time to flee.

“What is it, Running Deer?” he said with a yawn.

“Your yellow-haired girl. She’s gone!”

Grey Fox sat up with a start. “What do you mean, gone? You were to keep watch this night. How did she leave?”

Running Deer’s face flushed. “I didn’t see or hear her. All I could hear was the sound of Crow Feather and his mate,” the boy replied honestly. Grey Fox rolled his eyes as he jumped to his feet and grabbed his weapons.

“The Comanche people will never die out if my brother and his woman have their way. His baby maker only grows, yet never grows tired.” Running Deer’s expression relaxed as Grey Fox slipped his bow over his shoulder. Now the boy smiled. Then his eyes narrowed and his brows pinched together.

“What is it, Running Deer? Is there more?” Grey Fox watched the boy fearfully nod. “What is it? Tell me.”

Running Deer continued to hesitate, awakening an irritated nerve along Grey Fox’s neck.

“She took Black Cloud. She stole your war pony!”

***

Sarah had no idea where she was going. She was forced to slow the horse’s pace along the banks of the creek until she found where it joined with a large river. Since she and the Indian had followed the river with the current, she would follow the river against the current heading back. Hopefully by now, her mother and Tom had alerted the soldiers, and maybe she would stumble upon a search party. A stabbing sensation from her side reminded her that whatever the old man had given her for pain relief was wearing off.

She realized what a chance she was taking, wandering out in the wilderness with the possibility of finding more Comanche, but her mother’s voice rang in her ears about the cruelty of the savages and their use of whites as slaves, even raping them to add fresh blood to their tribe. The thought of becoming enslaved or worse, raped, spurred her to push the horse faster across the terrain. If she was riding toward her death, then so be it. From the depths of darkness came a low-pitched and drawn-out sound, like the whistle of a bird but without the fluctuation of notes. Suddenly, the stallion stopped and looked over his shoulder. Ears pricked and nostrils flaring, the stallion whinnied. By the time Sarah realized what was happening, it was too late. A warrior had appeared on top of the bank astride a spotted horse.

***

Even in poor light, Grey Fox could clearly see her. She left a trail that even Red Dawn could find. He didn’t move as he sat there, peering down on the scene below. He didn’t need to. She was trapped between him and the river and she was on Black Cloud, the only horse in his band that listened to his commands without fail. He watched as the golden woman’s hands began to shake in the depths of the stallion’s black mane. It did not surprise him to watch her grip tightly and dig her heels into the horse’s flanks. Black Cloud responded with a deep lunge forward that almost unseated his rider. Kicking his horse, Grey Fox followed. His moment of control was jeopardized as the woman forced the stallion over the slippery rocks, causing the horse’s hooves to slide and stumble, but in spite of the rocky terrain, they were already gaining a great distance on him. He kicked harder. The woman was a good rider. He continued to urge his horse on until he could get close enough to call Black Cloud.

***

Again, she heard a low, long whistle. The black horse’s ears pricked to the side, and the animal planted his hooves deep into the ground. Sarah found herself unseated and with a splash, she tumbled into the icy water. She cried out as the pain of a thousand tiny needles pierced her skin. When she emerged, her teeth immediately started chattering. She watched, helpless, as her stolen horse disappeared beyond the embankment in the early morning haze. In its place stood the silhouette of Grey Fox, War Chief of the Coyote Comanche Clan, and he looked furious.

***

Wade coiled the rope in his hands. He was waiting further instruction from the ranch boss, Tom, but the man seemed preoccupied. Instead of talking about ranch business, Tom expressed his concern over the missing Cashion girl. Wade watched solemnly as his boss continued to rub his temples and shuffle dirt beneath his boots. The young filly wouldn’t be broken today. Just like the day before.

“I think I may have a solution, or at least a chance,” Wade told Tom as he spat out a wad of tobacco. Tom shook his head. His fading blue eyes were pinched with worry.

“It’s that obvious, huh?” he asked. Wade nodded.

“Yes, but I do have a suggestion. Broken Horn, the Injun, you heard of him?” Wade asked as he slipped the loop over the filly’s head to lead her out of the round pen.

“You talking about that wild Indian that they just recently let out of prison?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. The way I see it is, you need one to find one. You want to know if that Sarah of yours is still alive, Broken Horn might be able to find her. All you need is some whiskey and tobacco to pay him with. That Injun seems pretty desperate these days.”

“I don’t know if I want to involve a character like that into this mess,” Tom said. Wade watched as Tom shot another worried expression over toward the house. Wade knew that Deidre was probably still crying, and his boss had a soft spot for her. She hadn’t left the house in days and had stopped cooking for her crew. The boys were getting sick and tired of Wade’s biscuits and beans, and most of them talked of forming a posse. Neither he nor Tom were sure how long they could keep the men in check. You just didn’t ride off hell-bent for leather after an entire tribe of Comanche warriors; it would be suicide.

“How does one go and find this Broken Horn?” Tom asked.

Wade responded with a smile. Now maybe he could get some work done. “He’s held himself up in a shack about fifteen miles south of Fort Myers. We can be there in a day if the weather holds.”

“Saddle up and tell Gerald to do the same. We’ll ride out at first light,” Tom instructed as he took the rope from Wade and led the filly away.

***

Grey Fox dismounted and walked up to the woman, who stood shivering on the shoreline. She lifted her chin and met him square in the eyes. Those eyes flashed anger, pain and something more. Grey Fox simply stared down into their depths. She did not flinch as he had expected her to.

“Do you know the punishment for stealing a war pony?
My
war pony?” Grey Fox asked in English. He laughed at the spark of realization in her eyes that he knew her language. It wasn’t a friendly kind of laugh; instead it held the promise of making her pay for her disobedience. He knew it intimidated her, so he laughed again.

She should have shown fear, but instead, she continued to stare at him. His mocking of her ignorance only served to cause her extreme irritation. He could read it in the sudden stiffening of her posture and the hardness of her lips.

“Why don’t you just get it over with? Whatever it is you plan to do, just get it over with!” The words came out trembling.
Aha, there it is!
She crossed her arms over her large breasts, creating a jolt through his groin. However, his face revealed nothing.

“Really? When someone steals something, we usually cut off a hand or mark them as a thief by scarring their face,” he said coolly. Grey Fox took a step back to further gauge her reaction. Her only reaction was a flicker in her eyes. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that made him uneasy. While this Cat and Fox game was interesting, to say the least, it would not bode well for him in the village. If this woman continued to stand like a man, it would bring him ridicule. His position as War Chief demanded respect. This woman would have to give it to him, one way or the other. When his gaze dropped toward her breasts once more, as plan formulated in his mind.

Without warning, Grey Fox grabbed Sarah and hoisted her effortlessly over his shoulder once again and then plopped her on top of the spotted horse. He then grabbed the mane and mounted right behind her while wrapping his arm around her middle, pulling her so close to him that she would feel every part of him, including the part that was hungry with growing desire. She stifled a whimper and quivered against him. She struggled against his grip, fighting to put some air between their bodies as they rode. He quickly rewarded her with an even firmer grip upon her and even tighter contact. The woman was weakening. She was wedged so firmly against him, that now nothing was left to his imagination. The smell of her hair, the feel of her tiny waist, the heaviness of her breasts as they rested on his forearm all spurred desire in him. The lesson Grey Fox was trying to achieve in showing the woman that he was in fact, in charge, had the reverse effect upon him. His manhood grew into a fiery erection that he could not control. The movement of the horse caused her buttocks to rub rhythmically against him; it was nearly too much for him to endure, and turning his mood sour. It seemed that even his body was accepting Red Dawn’s vision, while his heart still refused.

***

Sarah was exhausted, trying not to touch the Comanche and fighting the urge to just relax against him and let him hold her weight. But with every stride of the horse, Sarah felt the heat between them and the warrior’s growing excitement. Sarah wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but she did know it heightened her senses and caused a funny sensation in the pit of her stomach. After two miles, her body began aching so badly she could not fight it anymore. In total exhaustion, she leaned against him and closed her eyes. It was becoming painfully obvious to her that if the warrior wanted to be brutal and take her, he could do it easily and at his own leisure. A low whistle blew from his lips and passed her ears. She turned her head to see the stallion she had been riding get in line dutifully behind them. Sarah’s heart plummeted. It seemed this man controlled everything.

Chapter Three

Tom, Gerald and Wade mounted up and then disappeared beyond the horizon. Deidre watched from the porch, whispered a prayer, then wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Tom had explained that they were seeking the help of a Comanche tracker with the hopes of still finding Sarah alive. Whispering a reverent prayer, she walked back inside the home that she had shared with her daughter for eighteen years.

Cashion Ranch was all she had left of her marriage to Kirkland Cashion. He had been a captain fighting the Indian wars when he had been killed in a raid against the Apaches. It had been their dream to make this ranch into a thriving cattle and horse operation, yet despite Deidre’s determination and the skill of Tom, the foreman, they struggled most of the time. But she couldn’t bring herself to sell the place. All her cowboys on the payroll had even offered to take up the note with the bank in exchange for a few acres to call their own, but Deidre couldn’t do it, and Tom stood beside her through all those tough decisions. Tom had been her rock for so long, and it was because of him that they made the little bit of money they did.

All these years of struggle and Deidre just couldn’t let go of Kirk’s dream of a successful ranch. So she made her and her daughter persevere on the six hundred-acre parcel. Deidre purposely tried to keep her daughter busy with building a decent remuda of fine horses. It had worked too, but she felt Sarah’s restlessness for months on end. There just wasn’t a whole lot that could be done about it. Still, they had managed to keep things pretty safe since the Fort was just a few days’ ride, but despite this, Deidre remained ever-terrified of the Indians and stories her husband and the cowhands would tell her. So since her husband’s death, she had forbidden Sarah to step one foot outside the ranch boundaries. So many questions nagged at her mind and tugged at her heart.

Deirdre sat helpless at the kitchen table, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her warnings to Sarah had either been ignored or forgotten. The solitude without Sarah’s vivacious spirit overwhelmed her as another round of tears fell.

***

“I figure we’ll reach his cabin by sundown,” Wade informed Tom.

Tom just kept staring straight ahead on the trail. His thoughts were back at Cashion Ranch and the woman he had left behind. Deidre’s constant tears tore at him something awful. The foreman only nodded. Something else nagged at him that he couldn’t explain. His request for help from the Fort hadn’t gotten him anywhere, and tension was building in his gut about soliciting the help from some renegade Comanche on the run from the government, shunned by even his own people. Tom felt like he was opening a can of worms, and he didn’t like it.

“Ol’ Broken Horn sure is going to be happy to see all this whiskey.” Gerald laughed, exposing a mouth full of rotten teeth. Gerald’s statement sparked a fire in Tom.

“You know, I’d like for the two of you to explain something to me. I’d like to know just why in hell you think this man can be trusted.”

“He’s lookin’ to get even with the Comanche. They scarred his face for stealin’,” Wade said as he rode up even with Tom.

“What did he steal?”

Wade shrugged a shoulder.

“I don’t rightly know. Horses, weapons. I think he was some kind of traitor. I think he helped the military track renegade bands of Comanche. But then he did something to anger the Captain there, and now even the military want to see him dead. He ain’t got nobody.”

Tom ground his teeth at the information.

“I think we are making a hell of a mistake. For the life of me I don’t know what else to do,” he mumbled under his breath.

***

Grey Fox stopped the horse right in front of Crazy Goose’s tipi. The old man was standing outside, grinning as he took a long drag from a pipe. Grey Fox took note of the smug look and wondered what it was about. When the woman moaned and her head fell to the side, Crow Feather walked up and chuckled. Crow’s eyes softly examined her face, encouraging Grey Fox to pull her closer to him without thinking. Again, he noticed the upturned corner of Crazy Goose’s lips.

“If your woman is too much for you, brother, I would be happy to teach her the ways of the Comanche.” At the sound of a deep, laughing voice, the woman awakened. Grey Fox immediately felt her stiffen in his arms. He looked down and she had turned her face away from Crow Feather. Grey Fox slipped off the horse, dragging her with him.

“Brother, had you not been busy with keeping Wild Flower underneath you, maybe you would have heard this one sneak away from the village and steal Black Cloud,” Grey Fox told him in a stern yet quiet voice. Crow Feather smiled big as he regarded his older brother.

“By the looks of your baby maker, Grey Fox, I’d say you are the one ready to put this yellow-hair under you.”

***

The conversation left Sarah shocked to the core. She didn’t want to be “under” anyone. Again, the reality that she may be raped returned to her as she fought against the warrior, ripping a bandage on her arm and inciting blood to trickle down to the dirt below. Crazy Goose let out a loud and stern warning, rendering her motionless. She felt the warrior finally let go of her. She paused in a moment of confusion, looked at the three men and then darted inside the safety of the tipi she remembered belonging to Crazy Goose.

***

“Grey Fox,” said Crazy Goose, a thought occurring to him. “I had not considered that this woman might be coveted by other eligible young men looking for a mate. When she is better, she will be ready to be claimed.” The Shaman made sure his intention was clear. He wanted to be sure Grey Fox understood that he was issuing him a challenge: claim the woman for himself or risk losing her to another man. Grey Fox wouldn’t like being pressured, but with Crow Feather standing there with that grin on his face, Crazy Goose saw an opportunity to teach a lesson to the War Chief.

Finally, understanding filled Grey Fox’s features as his brother continued to smile and leer at the yellow-haired woman. The warrior glanced from Crazy Goose and back again to Crow Feather. Grey Fox’s posture grew stiff and defensive. He scowled back at his brother.

“I will hunt for her. I will hunt for you for your care of her. That is all I can do.”

Crazy Goose nodded, satisfied for now, then turned to disappear inside his lodge.

***

Sarah sat on the sleeping mat she had left only hours ago, her knees drawn up and her face buried. As hard as she tried, she was not able to stop her tears. She would be forever trapped. She was a Comanche captive and they meant to violate her. She would most likely never see her mother again or her ranch or Tom. For the first time since her capture, the fight started dying within her. There was no point struggling against fate.

***

Crazy Goose sat quietly and prepared a meal. He was boiling wild root with a chunk of antelope along with herbs and mesquite beans. He listened to the woman’s sobs and understood them. He did not consider her tears as a sign of weakness; rather, they were tears of acceptance of a future the woman could not predict. But Crazy Goose could feel her fear, and it was that fear he wanted to comfort.

Quietly, the Shaman sat a bowl of the stew next to the woman. She looked down at the bowl but refused to touch it.

“It will do no good to starve. You will not serve your mind or your body if you refuse to eat,” he told her gently. When she didn’t respond, he simply continued to talk to her. “Your wounds already look better.” He reached out and touched her cheek. A tear drop fell onto his finger. His heart warmed toward her. “Your fever is gone, I see. That is good.”

“I want to go home,” he heard her whisper from behind her knees.

Crazy Goose smiled. “Maybe you are already there.”

The woman shook her head. “No. My home is not here. Are you crazy? I’m not Comanche.” The woman finally lifted her head to look at him. Her green eyes were light and looked so much like those of the cat that had marked her that even the Shaman was surprised.

“Your home is where your path leads you. Where your soul finds rest and where your heart holds you.” But the golden woman shook her head dejectedly as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

***

“It’s been three suns. She needs to come out of hiding and share in the work with the rest of the women.”

Grey Fox’s voice was loud as it snaked its way inside Crazy Goose’s tipi. Sarah could hear the argument outside, and she heard the Shaman try and convince the warrior that she still wasn’t ready. But she knew it wasn’t the truth. She almost felt normal again. Aside from sore ribs and a wrapped thigh, she knew she could handle work. She was just afraid to face a whole village of Comanche people. In fact, just the thought of leaving the Shaman’s protection caused her hands to shake. She had come to have a trust and friendship with the old man, and she clung to it.

“Perhaps it is time for her to speak to Red Dawn,” Crazy Goose told Grey Fox.

At that moment the flap flew open, and she lifted her gaze to see Grey Fox standing there. He looked upset with her. “It is time you come out of Crazy Goose’s shadow. You cannot hide here any longer.”

“She is healing, Grey Fox. Patience with her is wise, as when training your ponies. Take her to Red Dawn. It would do you both good.”

Sarah stood for a moment in silence. She didn’t want to leave, but she wasn’t about to be dragged out like a dog. Wearily, she watched as the big Comanche reach out a hand to her. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of his arousal pressing against her; the way it felt against her had taken over her thoughts since. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see her fear and shame.

***

Grey Fox felt the momentary sting of rejection. It was clear that the woman was in much better health. Her skin was soft and held a glow. The care Crazy Goose had given her was working well. She was still thin, but now her body revealed some strength and womanly curves. He thought her pretty for the first time since their encounter. However, he was growing increasingly tired of her stubbornness. Realizing that his mind and heart were now starting to follow the yearnings of his body aggravated him. She still refused to acknowledge him, which showed an extreme amount of disrespect. How much longer was this woman going to challenge his every move? Not willing to beg, he spun on his heels and left the tipi.

***

Sarah had to walk fast to keep up with him. The villagers were staring at her and making comments in Comanche that she couldn’t understand. She also realized she was following this man, just like his stallion had done, and it annoyed her. It was overly arrogant on his part not to even look back to see if she was still behind him. She just about stopped dead in her tracks just to prove a point when several young braves walked past and leered at her. Sarah quickened her pace.

When the man suddenly stopped, he turned to face her. Sarah had to swallow hard when he looked down at her with his dark, penetrating eyes. His face appeared to be set in fierce lines with its sharp features and eyebrows that looked like raven wings. His expression was cold as he regarded her, and yet she felt herself respond to him in a way she couldn’t yet understand. There was an unfamiliar tightness to her lower belly, a quiver of excitement deep in the recesses of her womanhood. Instinctively, she licked her lips.

Sarah nearly wavered in her resolve as her eyes scanned him. Whenever Grey Fox spoke, it came out surprisingly warm and fluid. She found herself holding her breath. As uncertain as it all seemed, she realized then that the peculiar feelings he evoked in her was physical attraction. She thought she must be going crazy to allow that to happen, but it was too hard to ignore. She prayed her feelings didn’t show. For her own sake, she better not show it at all.

“This woman is old,” he began as he gestured toward Red Dawn’s tipi. “Older than the dirt, I often wonder. You should listen to what she has to say, even if it confuses you or makes you angry.”

Sarah gave the tipi a nervous glance.

“Why should I? I don’t owe you, or any of you, anything. I want to go home and I can’t. You have a boy standing outside Crazy Goose’s tipi, guarding where I sleep. I don’t want to be here and it matters to no one. Crazy Goose told me of this old woman’s vision. There is no way. I am not the one!” Sarah hesitated just long enough to draw in another deep breath, but the look on Grey Fox’s face silenced her.

***

He searched her face intently. If he chose, he could sympathize with her. He had no more choice in this vision than she did. Maybe they were both trapped, but that didn’t change the fact that what was done was done. Again, Grey Fox found himself considering whether this woman could be his mate. There was one fact he couldn’t ignore: he wanted Comanche children, and for that, he needed a good Comanche wife. Then the thought snuck in that maybe Crazy Goose had not yet told this woman everything. He wondered with amusement if Crazy Goose had also told her that it was in the vision that she was to become his woman and bear him children, many, many children? Surely, his announcement would awaken more of her her undue stubbornness. Grey Fox measured his words carefully as he spoke.

“Did Crazy Goose also tell you that you were to become a mother to many Comanche children?” Grey Fox braced for a storm. He thought for sure that this woman would spit fire at him.

She opened her mouth to protest, but something stopped her. When she spoke again, it came out weak and uncertain.