Savage Beloved

She smiled cunningly again, for although she had not ridden a horse since she had came to Two Eagles’s village, she knew her skills would not desert her. Her father had taught her how to ride a horse almost the minute she could walk.

Realizing that the people’s interest in the injured child could last for only a short while, Hawk Woman ran to the corral and chose one of the fastest steeds.

She took the roan from the corral and planned to walk the horse until she was far enough from the village that the sound of his hooves hitting the earth would not be heard. Once she did mount the steed, she would waste no time. She would ride hard and long until she found someone who would provide protection as she traveled toward civilization.

But she would be careful this time whom she approached. The last time she had asked for help, it had gained her nothing but a life of drudgery with Albert Cohen.

“And a daughter who never knew me,” she said stiffly.

She glanced down at her attire. Anyone who saw her would question the way she was dressed. She would say that she had been held captive by Indians and had succeeded in escaping their clutches.

Smiling, she knew that part of her story would be true, for she had had no choice but to escape the Wichita.

When she was far enough from the village, Hawk Woman mounted the horse bareback and sank her heels into its flanks, sending it into a thunderous gallop across open land.

Feeling free with her golden hair flying in the wind, as it had when she was a child riding her father’s horses, Hawk Woman closed her eyes. She thought of yesteryears and times precious to her.

She couldn’t believe how she had changed into someone vile and mean . . . someone who had even planned to do murder. As a child, she had been a good clean person.

She had even learned many verses in the Bible and attended Sunday school every Sunday with her parents.

She opened her eyes, her jaw tightening when she recalled who had changed her.

Albert Cohen.

He had made her into someone vile and mean, but deep inside herself she still held a portion of that child her parents had adored.

Tears filled her eyes. How she wanted those times back again. But she knew it was impossible to go back. Both her parents had perished and she had been forced to find a way to live on her own.

That need had brought her to the point where she had been taken in by Albert Cohen and his syrupy words.

She shook her head to clear it of these thoughts. Now all she should be concerning herself with was getting as far away from the Wichita village as possible. Therein lay her true danger, for once the Wichita discovered that she had escaped, warriors would be searching for her high and low.

She rode hard until the moon climbed high in the dark heavens, and even then she continued. She was afraid to stop for the night. She must find the strength to ride until she found someone who would take her in.

“There has to be something out there for me,” she whispered to herself.

That thought, which gave her a measure of hope, made her continue onward. Then she caught sight of a flickering ahead that caused her to draw a rein and stop. She saw a campfire through a break in the trees. Her heart leapt with gladness, for surely fortune had smiled on her. Here was a fire, where she might camp for the night and perhaps even find food.

But she had to be wary. She must get close enough to take a good look, and then decide whether to show herself.

She dismounted and grabbed the reins, then walked stealthily into the shadow of the trees with the horse. She stopped abruptly when she saw two wagons that she recognized.

“Albert’s,” she whispered to herself, everything within her going cold.

She peered intently ahead, trying to see who sat around the fire.

When she saw only women and children, she felt even more nervous. Albert must be up to his usual nightly game of choosing one of the women and taking her to his blankets in the back of one of the wagons. The others would sit by the fire, trying not to think of what he was doing to the chosen one.

Someone else came to mind. “Penelope,” she said, peering harder to see if she could see a girl her daughter’s age among the children.

But it was too dark and everyone was sitting too close together to see clearly. The aroma of baked rabbit wafted toward Hawk Woman, making her stomach ache with a hunger she had felt only one other time in her life . . . when she had fled Albert Cohen and had gone days without food before Two Eagles had found her.

Then someone else came to mind. Candy! Apparently, Two Eagles hadn’t found the wagons in which his woman was being transported.

She smiled wickedly as she thought of Candy being the one in the wagon with Albert.

“Little Miss Prissy, how do you feel now that you are no longer in the arms of your Indian lover?” she hissed.