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When Liam called her cold, she felt bad. It hurt her feelings. She didn't know how to respond to a man that jumped on her and jumped off. But didn't all men do that?
His kisses were not welcome, as he slobbered all over her, and the smell of whiskey was ever present. It turned her stomach. He only bathed once a month in the creek and then he smelled of creek water.
How did she learn the finer arts of being a woman with a man like that? How could she?
She reasoned that the only thing she knew how to do correctly was run the store, that had become her life. She kept it clean, kept it stocked and took the money. Of that she was knowledgeable.
She'd learned general conversations and appeared friendly to all her customers. The store had saved her in some ways as it became familiar territory to her. She knew her job there. She knew what she had to do there.
She thought about her parents, poor dirt farmers. Her father had been a drunk. Her mother was only a shadow of a woman after years of hard work and bearing five children. She'd grown passive, unhappy, and almost completely silent. Hannah was the only girl of the five and her father thought her easy to rid of. Women didn't work hard enough to keep around, he figured. As the years went by her mother was more despondent, so Hannah took over the chores. She had learned to cook by watching her mother, she could clean a house, do laundry. It was life she didn't know anything about.
Hannah struggled living at home, but even that was better than living with Liam, she had come to realize.
Every day she contemplated running away from Liam, but she knew she needed a place to go. She had only one friend, Mary Ann Turner. But Mary lived some distance away, nearly forty miles to the north. Besides, Mary Ann couldn't really help her. Her father was the local preacher and he'd wail the tar out of Mary Ann if she helped a woman escape her husband. She'd only bring trouble to Mary Ann if she went there.
This was her life, she sighed. And her only happiness was minding the store. She had to resign herself to this life with Liam, there was no other choice!
Chapter Four
She walked out away from the house, past the barn, staring out at the lonely looking prairie when a hand came over her mouth and she was pulled against a body.
Fear gripped her.
She thought it was Liam, so she didn't fight him, but when her head fell on a bare shoulder, she turned to see the Indian from the store. Standing there shirtless in the moonlight, with nothing but leggings and a breechcloth, he looked dangerous, and yet she wasn't as afraid of him as Liam. And it struck her as she stared that he was very pleasant to look upon.
She'd seen him many times in the store, so she wasn't afraid, just startled at his action.
"Do not be afraid. I do not wish to harm you." He told her.
She nodded.
"Don't scream, I'll not harm you." He promised.
She whirled around to look once more. "What do you want?" she cried breathlessly as she turned to stare at him.
His silhouette in the moonlight was striking, for he was very powerfully built, and his face was quite handsome.
"You must go with me now." He told her.
"B-but…why?"
He slid up on his horse in one smooth action, then glanced down at her. "Unless you want to live with this man all your life, you must come with me. Which will it be?"
She stared at him, then looked back at the cabin.
Two men came out of the house and one fired a shotgun at them. There was cursing and the other fired off a shot with a pistol. But they were too far away for either shot to be effective.
"Choose now," Lone Wolf told her as he looked over his shoulder at the men.
Her heart lurched, could this be an escape? Or was she trading one for another again?
The seconds ticked in her mind. Dare she run off with this renegade? It was ludicrous, but it was an escape.
She reached up to him. He slid her up and in front of him as his powerful arms came around her, enfolding her in a protective cocoon. She felt suddenly safe, protected even. How could an Indian be comforting?
More shots were fired, but they didn't come close as Lone Wolf spurred his horse into action.
They rode for a long time. All the country looked the same, mesquite trees lined the creek banks, cottonwoods creaked in the night air, and the prairie stared out forever. The moonlight lit their path. The wind was chilly, but his arms protected her even from that. Strange how she felt suddenly safe.
