Savage Courage

She looked slowly

around her, but she had such a terrible headache that everything she saw was a fuzzy blur.

But she knew she was beside a fire. She felt its warmth against her flesh.

“How are you?” Storm asked, kneeling down beside her.

Shoshana recognized the voice as Storm’s, then gazed up at him. “My head aches so,” she murmured, reaching a hand to her forehead, wincing when she felt just how large the lump there was.

She squinted as she again tried to focus on Storm, then looked slowly around her. “Where are we?” she murmured. “I see you . . . and everything else . . . as only a blur.”

“When you fell from the horse you hit your forehead,” Storm softly explained. “After it began to rain, I brought you to the safety of this cave. Once the storm passes by, we will resume our travel to my stronghold. When we arrive, my shaman, White Moon, will care for you. Soon you will be well.”

“I . . . I . . . feel ill,” Shoshana murmured, tasting a strange bitterness in her mouth.

“Sometimes one does feel that way after a blow to the head,” Storm said softly. “Ish-tia-nay, close your eyes. Rest. Soon you will be at my stronghold in the care of my shaman.”

“Thank you. . . .” Shoshana murmured as she slowly drifted off to sleep again.

Storm sat down beside her.

He studied her as she slept.

He had never seen such a beautiful woman.

He wondered what her life had been like while she had lived among whites. She had been raised by a man who had the blood of many Apache on his hands. Had Shoshana possibly caused this man to change for the better?

The man was in the area to help find the scalp hunter who was the enemy of all Apache. Why would the wooden-legged man care enough about the scalp hunter’s evil to help track him down?

Guilt for his past sins against the Apache? Was he trying to atone for those sins?

Well, none of that meant anything to Storm. He would still take his vengeance. He would still make the wooden-legged man pay!

He gazed at Shoshana again. Ho, her absence would cause the wooden-legged man much distress.

When Shoshana knew of Storm’s plans to take vengeance against George Whaley, how would she react? Would she care?

He ran a finger softly across her lips. They were made to be kissed. She was born to be loved, and not by pindah-lickoyee, but by an Apache!

He knew that even if it stopped raining soon, he should not move Shoshana until tomorrow. He must give the mountain pass time to dry, otherwise it would be too slippery for travel, and there was always the chance of a mud slide.

Yes, he would take Shoshana then, and she would be well soon.

Ah, finally he had found a woman who made him want more than to be the protector of his people. With every beat of his heart he wanted to protect Shoshana.

She had been apart from her true people long enough.

He wondered about Shoshana’s Apache mother. Could she have survived that ambush even as Shoshana’s dreams had revealed to her? Might she even be among the older women at his own stronghold? Had her mother been among those who had been found wandering alone through the years and brought to safety to live among his people?

If so, and Shoshana could find her among the many older women, would Shoshana be content to remain with him? Would she be happy to live with her mother again, and allow him to court her?

“I will make it so,” he whispered.

Smiling, he stretched out on a blanket beside Shoshana.

He was still smiling when he drifted off to sleep, Shoshana’s beautiful face and sweet voice filling his dreams.

He awakened with a start when his sister’s face came to him in his dreams, and he remembered the warnings she had given him about the woman he would meet.