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There was never any yet that wholly
could escape love, and never shall there
be any, never so long as beauty shall
be, never so long as eyes can see.
—Longus
Lightning lit the sky in lurid flashes. Thunder boomed, shaking the ground beneath the horses’ hooves. When rain began falling, Mary Beth shivered, the wetness seeming to go clean into her very soul.
She struggled to hold onto the pommel, but the binding around her wrists made it hard.
She gazed questioningly at Brave Wolf, who continued to lead his warriors onward in the rain. Why didn’t he stop?
She looked quickly around when the lightning flashed and realized why. They were riding across a straight stretch of land, toward the base of a mountain. There was nothing to offer protection from the elements. There was only blowing grass, bending double with the wind.
The wind whipped incessantly around Mary Beth. The rain blinded her. Then just as suddenly as it had begun, the storm was over.
Mary Beth coughed and sputtered as the last of the rain ran down her face and across her lips.
Brave Wolf drew rein, his warriors following his lead. He turned to Mary Beth. His gaze moved slowly over her.
Her dress was so wet, it clung to her body, defining the curves beneath it. He had not thought that such a tiny woman could have such large, beautiful breasts. But she did, and the sight aroused an ache in his loins that he tried to fight off.
He had not yet taken a woman as his wife. He had not found a woman who made his heart sing. But he had felt a hungering for a body next to him at night, and for the soft laughter of children in his lodge.
He had never thought he would be aroused by a woman whose skin was white, whose tongue was spiteful, and who looked at him as though he were the devil.
But he understood all of her emotions. She thought of him as her captor. He had hoped that she would begin to trust him so that he would not have to keep her bound like a captive. But so far, she still wore a mask of hate on her lovely face.
Her hair was wet and hung in tight, rusty ringlets over her shoulders and down her back. Some loose curls lay across her brow, almost across her eyes.
But they did not keep him from seeing her glare. It seemed to go clear through him, making him uncomfortable.
He had been around many women in his time, and none had ever looked at him in this way. Instead, the looks had been filled with admiration.
But this woman? She seemed to hate the very sight of him.
“We will stop here, make a fire, and dry off before we venture onward,” Brave Wolf said, dismounting.
He went to Mary Beth and undid the thongs at her ankles, where she had been tied to the stirrups. Then he reached up, placed his hands at her waist, and lifted her from the saddle.
He noticed that she scarcely breathed as he untied the thongs at her wrists. He could almost see her mind working. No doubt she was making plans to escape the moment she was freed of her bonds.
Yet she must know that she could hardly get an inch away from him if she turned and tried to run. All he would have to do was reach his arms out for her and she would again have no choice but to accept her fate.
He only wished there was some way to convince her that she had nothing to fear from him.
But surely, as each hour passed, she would begin to realize that he meant her no harm.
“Come with me,” Brave Wolf said. He gently placed a hand at her elbow and ushered her away from the horses. He took her to where his warriors were already preparing a fire.
“Soon there will be a fire,” Brave Wolf said. “You can warm yourself by it. Your clothes can dry so that the night air will not harm you.”
“I need nothing from you except my freedom,” Mary Beth said. She yanked her elbow away from him.
Turning to face him, she placed her fists on her hips. “If you truly mean me no harm, take me to Fort Henry,” she said tightly. “I must see if anyone survived the terrible wagon train attack. I . . . I . . . want to . . .”
