Savage Beloved

Tears filled her eyes when she thought of her father. She brushed them away when she recalled the severed head in the jar, and the look of pleasure on her father’s face as he whipped the old Indian’s back.

She still loved her father and would always miss him horribly, but she had lost all respect for him.

She had herself to think about now . . . and how she could escape.

But it seemed impossible. Shackled in such a way, she wouldn’t be able to get far.

Eventually Two Eagles would remove the bonds and leave them off, though, for if he wanted her to work in the fields like a slave, he would get more out of her if she wasn’t shackled. That thought gave her some hope.

Again the wolves howled in the distance.

She looked quickly at Shadow when she moved in her sleep, one ear lifting as though hearing the call of the wild again.

“Please don’t ever leave me,” Candy whispered.

Chapter Ten

I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden,

Thou needest not fear mine;

My spirit is too deeply

Ever laden to burthen thine.

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

Two Eagles went to his private lodge and sat down before his fire.

He drew his knees up to his chest and circled them with his arms, his eyes watching the slowly lapping flames as they curled around the logs.

But he wasn’t truly seeing the fire.

He was full of conflicting feelings about the white woman.

His thoughts were too often filled with how sweet she was; she was so soft-spoken, and looked so very helpless wearing the irons and chains against her tender, white flesh.

He felt that he was wrong to make her wear them, yet none of her people had shown mercy when his uncle was wearing them while imprisoned at Fort Hope, or later, while he was forced to walk from the fort to his home.

Of course Candy had told Two Eagles that she had felt deep sympathy for Short Robe. She had even said that she had fed him and bathed his raw ankles when no one was around to see her do it.

“But would not anyone tell the same lie in order to win over a man who was holding them hostage?” he argued aloud.

He ran his long, lean fingers through his hair, pulling it farther back from his sculpted face.

No! He refused to let himself think about Candy any longer.

He had his duties as chief to occupy his mind. His warriors were waiting for his arrival even now at the council house, where important business was to be discussed.

And then tonight was storytelling time for his people’s children around the large outdoor fire. He just might allow Candy to sit outside and listen to the stories in order to show her how wrong it was for her people to mistreat the red man.

Knowing that he had made his warriors wait too long already while he got his mind in order, he rose to join them in the council house. But first he wanted to see how his uncle was faring.

He hoped that by now his uncle was awake, for there were questions he would like Short Robe to answer . . . questions about the woman whose lovely hair he had just cut, and whose beautiful eyes haunted him every time he thought of them.

He did not see how she could be guilty of anything wakan, bad, and he felt guilty for making her pay for something she had had no control over.

He stepped softly into his uncle’s tepee and found Hawk Woman sitting devotedly there on the far side of the fire, beside Short Robe.