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“What are your intentions?” she asked. “How long do you plan to hold everyone captive?”
She paled when he did not answer.
Chapter 9
The clearest spring, the shadiest grove;—
Tell me, my heart, if this be love?
—GEORGE LYTTELTON
The long ride, the hot sun and scorching wind, weighed on Leonida. Combined with the lack of sleep, the discomfort made her limbs sluggish and her eyes heavy. Her head bobbed as she forced herself not to lean back and rest against Sage’s powerful chest. It was enough that she had to ride with him at all, constantly battling her feelings for him, let alone having to ride on into the long night without any sleep or rest from the grueling journey on horseback. She had long since forgotten the others, who were as fatigued as she, for it was taking all of her own willpower and concentration not to give in to her exhaustion.
The morning sun had been welcomed, for she hoped it would reveal that they were approaching Sage’s stronghold. Yet Leonida saw that they were still traveling a small footpath at the side of a mountain, this only occasionally leveling out into a valley wide and green with grass.
With a heavy sigh, Leonida looked around, trying to focus her attention on her surroundings to keep herself awake. They were riding down a slope of bald rock into another valley. Here and there were fragments of petrified trees. They were of all colors. Some were dull, others reflected like marble, their many shades made more brilliant by the clear sunlight.
They followed a winding path under firs, and then they rode into another narrow canyon. Leonida was relieved to get a reprieve from the sun in this strip of mid-morning shade, the air cool and pleasant on her face and arms.
For warmth through the long, cold night of travel on horseback, Leonida had worn a poncho, a shoulder blanket with a hole in the center for the head. She had ignored Sage when he had first offered it to her, but it had not taken much shivering for her to agree to wear his generous offering. Yet she had shoved his arm away as he had tried to draw her back against him, to share his body warmth with her.
She had known the dangers.
As the horses topped a brush-covered ridge, Leonida blinked her sleep-heavy eyes and discovered a little green meadow in a pocket of the canyon. A grove of young quaking aspens reached into the meadow. Beyond them, half a dozen fat elk were grazing.
“There you see fresh meat for dinner,” Sage said, breaking the silence. He reined his horse to a stop and held up a fist as a silent command to his warriors to draw their own mounts to a halt.
Leonida’s shoulders slumped forward. Her eyes slowly closed, feeling the wondrous lethargy of sleep momentarily claim her.
Then her eyes flew open wildly when she felt herself being taken off the horse and into powerful arms. She looked up into Sage’s handsome face as he carried her toward the shade of the trees, to which the other women and the children were being herded.
Leonida wanted to yank herself free of Sage’s arms, but it felt too wonderful to be held so gently. She could not help herself when she lay her cheek against his chest, her eyes closing again, snatching another moment of sleep before she felt herself being lowered to the ground.
Not wanting to wake up, she snuggled onto her side on a thick carpet of moss and sighed when he covered her with the poncho that she had worn through the night. Soon she felt a small body creep next to her and snuggle against her bosom—Trevor had missed their camaraderie. Leonida put an arm around the boy’s tiny waist and drew him closer against her, opening her eyes only enough to see Carole stretched out beneath the next tree, oblivious to everything, her sleep so sound, so deep.
The sound of gunfire a short distance away made Leonida flinch; then once again she drifted off into a merciful void of sleep. Dreams soon replaced reality. She was riding on Sage’s chestnut stallion with him, her hair blowing in the wind, her arms willingly wrapped around his waist. She was feeling content. She had never felt so loved. When Sage turned and gazed at her, his eyes dark with feelings for her, her insides thrilled. She lay her head on his bare, muscular back, reveling in this wondrous moment as they rode toward his village, where she was going to become his wife. She had already found paradise in his arms as he had taught her ways of loving a man. She was eager to bear his children.
Then a shot rang out in her dream, changing it into a nightmare as she watched Sage’s body jerk when a bullet pierced his heart. Harold Porter came riding out of the brush, laughing, with his rifle barrel smoking.
Leonida was aware of someone screaming, then she felt someone’s gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her, awakening her, and realized it had been her own scream.
Bolting to a sitting position, perspiration lacing her brow and her heart pounding, Leonida gazed anxiously into Sage’s midnight-dark eyes. Without thinking, she reached a hand up to his face as he leaned down over her.
“It was a dream?” she murmured, her voice drawn. “It was just a terrible dream?”
“Yes, a dream,” Sage said thickly, her gentle hand on his face showing him more than she dared to confess aloud to him—that she did care.
She realized that she was displaying too much affection for Sage in front of the other women , who were staring at her, and jerked her hand away. She gazed down at Trevor, who was also closely scrutinizing her. She drew him within her arms and gave him a hug, glad to have him to take the focus of attention away from herself.
“Did I frighten you, honey?” she asked softly, stroking his back through his cotton shirt.
Trevor nodded and clung to her. “Don’t scream again,” he murmured. “It scares me too much.” Then he leaned away from her, and tears came to his eyes. “I’m hungry. My belly hurts.”
Carole crawled over and sat down beside Leonida. There were deep, dark circles beneath Carole’s eyes, and her breathing seemed shallow. Some strange sort of rattle came from her lungs, and each breath took much effort. This alarmed Leonida.
“This woman needs to eat,” she said dryly to Sage. “You shouldn’t have made us wait so long.”
“You were told the need to get higher in these mountains,” he explained softly. “Not only for my benefit but also for yours. While you are traveling with me and my warriors, you are in as much danger from the gunfire of the white pony soldiers as are the Navaho. Traveling without stopping was the only way. Now we are at a safe distance from those who might shoot at us. We can stop often to rest and eat.”
