But where had he found her? Which band did she come from?
For many moons Storm had searched for the scalp hunter. Now he had finally found his lodge, but this woman’s safety must take precedence over his desire to catch the scalp hunter.
It was important that she be freed.
And because she was so beautiful, Storm could not help wanting to know her better and discover where she made her home. In his many travels between Apache strongholds, he had never seen her.
But he knew that there were bands that he had not yet found. Ho, this woman must have been stolen from one of them.
Had Mountain Jack killed many in order to have her?
Storm’s eyes widened and he felt his pulse race when suddenly the woman lifted her head and turned her eyes to him.
Now that he saw her up close, he knew that he would never find anyone else in his entire life who could match her beauty.
When he saw fear leap into her eyes, Storm took a step closer, then stopped as she gasped and cowered in his shadow.
“I am a friend,” he said tightly. “Do not be afraid.”
Chapter Eleven
Do! I tell you, I rather guess
She was a wonder, and nothing less!
—Oliver Wendell Holmes
As soon as Shoshana saw the stranger, she was frightened. Although she was glad that someone besides Mountain Jack had arrived, she wasn’t sure what to think about this tall and muscular Indian, who carried in his left hand a seventeen-shot Winchester rifle.
She guessed that this must be the Indian who had been high in the mountain earlier, possibly sending signals to his warriors.
Was . . . he . . . Apache?
Although she still felt fear like the cold blade of a knife in the pit of her stomach, she could not help noticing how uniquely handsome he was with his high cheekbones, his well-formed nose, his black eyes that blazed with fire and energy, and his strong jaw.
He had firm lips. His hair, which he wore in a thick braid, was black, thick, and coarse. He had a lean, supple, sinewy body . . . a broad chest and slender waist.
“Still you say nothing?” Storm said as he took one step closer to the maiden. “I spoke in English when I said I was a friend. Again hear me well when I tell you that I pose no threat to you.”
Then he recalled the powerful weapon that he held in his left hand and knew that it, alone, could put fear into the heart of any man or woman.
“I am armed thusly because there are others who pose a threat to me, as well as animals that I must protect myself from,” Storm explained. “While on a hunt for a panther that killed two small ones from my stronghold, I saw you with the scalp hunter. Since I have been searching for the scalp hunter for many moons now, I could not give up tonight until I found him.”
His gaze swept down to where she was held prisoner by the chain at
her wrist, then slowly looked up at her again. “When I first saw you with Mountain Jack, I thought you were with him of your own choosing, yet I found it hard to believe that any woman would want such a man for a husband, especially . . . especially a woman who is of my own Apache blood,” he said guardedly.
He stooped and lifted a portion of the chain in his free hand, gazed at it, and then again at the woman. “Now that I see you are a prisoner of the whiskered scalp hunter, I realize how wrong I was in my first impression of you. Let me help you. Let me release you. I will take you to safety.”
No longer so afraid, Shoshana moved slowly to her feet, her gaze holding his as he rose to his full height.
Yet he was a stranger, and she could not put her full trust in him just yet. Since the day she had been taken away from the horrible ambush on her people, she had never been around Indians except for those who worked as scouts for the cavalry.
She knew the name of only one Apache in this area; she wondered if this could possibly be he.
“Are you Chief Storm?” she blurted out without any more hesitation.
“Ah, so you do know of me,” Storm said thickly. “How have you heard of me? What is your name, and where do you make your home? I have never seen you before this day with Mountain Jack.”