Savage Courage

Since her accident, food had been the last thing on her mind. But now that her head no longer ached, and her stomach no longer felt queasy, she wanted to eat whatever was in that pot that smelled so tantalizingly rich and delicious.

Storm noticed how her gaze suddenly fell on the pot of food. He saw the sudden hunger in her eyes and was glad that she had regained her appetite.

He wanted to know her, truly know her, and now that she was well on the road to recovery, they could become better acquainted.

“Food was brought to my lodge while you slept,” Storm said, reaching for two wooden bowls and spoons and placing them beside him. He ladled out stew into both bowls, then took one to Shoshana.

“It looks and smells so good,” Shoshana said, allowing the blanket to fall away from her shoulders as she took the bowl from him with both hands.

She suddenly became aware of the clothing she now wore. While she had slept, someone had dressed her in a clean, soft doeskin gown. It had no decoration, but felt wonderful against her skin.

Storm reached for a spoon and placed it beside Shoshana, then moved back to his own pallet of blankets and furs and began eating. As he did so, he watched Shoshana dig into the food, almost ravenously.

He gazed at the gown that No Name had brought for her, and then at her hair. Both were in disarray.

But nothing could take away her loveliness.

The more he was with her, the more he wanted her as his woman, not his captive. He had finally found a woman who spoke to that corner of his heart that had been closed to the love of a woman. But how could he even think of taking her as his wife? Once she was aware of why he had been so eager to take her to his stronghold, she would hate him.

“You aren’t eating,” Shoshana said, pausing to look up questioning at Storm.

She saw that he was lost in thought; if his bowl tipped any more, it would spill the hot stew on his bare legs.

Today he wore only moccasins and a breechclout that bared his body to Shoshana, making her realize that he was more muscular and virile than any other man she had ever seen.

Both the moccasins and breechclout were made of dressed deerskin.

The breechclout was a strip of buckskin that passed between the legs around the loins and was adjusted so that the ends fell to just above the knees, both in front and behind.

The moccasins reached halfway up the thighs, the soles extending and curving up at the toes, terminating in a sort of a button the size of a half dollar. The tops were pushed down below the knees, and the folds looked as though they might be used as pockets for small articles the wearer might want to carry.

Today Storm didn’t wear his hair in a braid. Instead, he wore it long and free to his waist with a beaded band of buckskin tightly bound about his head to hold his hair back from his face.

Her heart skipped a beat when she allowed her eyes to wander lower, where only the cloth of his breechclout covered that part of his anatomy that—

“I am not all that hungry,” Storm said, shaken from his deep thoughts by her voice.

He realized that he had almost spilled the stew on himself, and felt embarrassed that she had caught him being so distracted.

If she knew what he’d been thinking, she wouldn’t be sitting there so at ease.

Knowing how determined she was, he guessed that once she discovered why he had brought her to his stronghold, she would try to find a way to escape. He dreaded the moment when he must reveal the truth to her—that she was not the scalp hunter’s captive, but instead the prisoner of a powerful Apache chief.

“The food was so good,” Shoshana said, pushing the empty bowl aside. “It brought nourishment to my body, but now I need something else to bring back my full strength. I would like to take a walk to strengthen my legs. While doing this I can see your village and people.”

She gazed down at herself again. Although the robe was wonderfully soft and comfortable, she had wrinkled it terribly as she slept. After everything she had been through, she longed to freshen up.

“Before I do anything else, Storm, I need a bath,” she blurted out. “If you could point me to a place where I can bathe, and . . . and . . . even supply me with a clean dress, I would appreciate it.”

“I would enjoy showing you my home and introducing you to my people,” Storm said, rising. “I will fetch one of our older women, who will bring you a change of clothes,” he said. “She will then take you to a pool of water where you can bathe in full privacy.”

“Thank you,” Shoshana said, smiling up at him. “You are so very, very kind. I hope one day I can find a way to repay you.”

She was puzzled when her words made him look uneasy. That look made her wonder if there was a reason why she shouldn’t be so eager to thank him. Something seemed hidden behind those beautiful dark eyes.

But she had always been teased by her friends back in Missouri about her vivid imagination. They had said that she saw things nobody else saw. She had always believed that was true; she had inner vision that came of her Apache heritage.