Savage Arrow

She drew rein and watched as one of the warriors came up to her. He slowly circled her, then stopped right beside her.

“Why are you here?” he asked in English, his voice filled with a coldness that frightened Jessie. Had she been foolish to hope that she would be welcomed here? Was this even Thunder Horse’s village?

“I am looking for Chief Thunder Horse,” Jessie said, her throat dry, not only from thirst and hunger, but also fear.

“And why are you looking for my chief?” the warrior Two Stones asked, his eyes filled with suspicion.

A relief that Jessie had never felt before washed through her when she learned that she had found Thunder Horse’s village. Surely once he knew that she had come, all would be well. She would be greeted in a friendly way, and allowed to stay until she got her life sorted out.

“He knows me,” Jessie said. “I believe he might welcome me into his lodge. Will you please take me to him?”

Two Stones looked over his shoulder at the others, who still sat on their steeds, studying her even more closely.

When they all nodded, indicating it was alright to take Jessie to their chief, the warrior closest to her turned back and nodded.

“Come,” he said to Jessie, as the others lowered their weapons and removed the arrows from their bowstrings.

Finally Jessie felt safe. She hoped she would soon be welcomed by Thunder Horse. There had been an instantaneous connection between them the two times they had spoken. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but only hoped that he had felt it, too.

She rode with the warriors into the village. They stopped in front of a tepee that was larger than all the others, and she knew it must belong to Thunder Horse.

Her pulse raced as she dismounted, then she smiled in pleasure as Thunder Horse emerged from his lodge.

She felt a rush of heat to her cheeks when she saw his attire, a brief breechclout. His chest was bare, revealing his muscular body, and his hair was long and loose down his powerful back.

“Why have you come?” Thunder Horse asked, folding his arms across his chest.

He forced himself to remember what he had vowed to himself only last night. He had vowed never to think about the woman again, to forget any feelings he had for her.

Yet here she was today!

How could he forget her if she came to him, looking so pretty and sweet, her beautiful, fiery red hair as glorious as a sunset?

Yet there was something about her hair, her attire, that troubled him. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair seemed somewhat tangled, and her eyes looked weary.

He could not help feeling concerned about her, although duty warned him away from her.

“I . . . I . . . became frightened of Reginald,” Jessie said, her voice breaking. “He is a madman. I . . . left his house. I have come to you to seek shelter until . . . until . . . I can figure out what to do or where to go.”

Thunder Horse saw tears in her eyes, and his heart was moved by what she had said. Still, he could not allow himself to trust any white that easily, not even a lovely woman who only yesterday had saved a Cheyenne child from being trampled.

After all, she was probably the wife of Reginald Vineyard. Reginald could have sent her as a way to trick him.

Reginald could then come to the village and claim that Thunder Horse had abducted her to achieve vengeance against his enemy. If so, it would be the end of Thunder Horse’s people.

No. He could not allow himself to trust her.

“There is no place for you here,” Thunder Horse said stiffly, everything within him crying out against speaking such harsh words to this woman he would never forget. “Leave. Return to this man. I know he is using you to trick me. I will allow no harm to come to my people.”

“What?” Jessie gasped. “What do you mean—a trick?”

When Thunder Horse didn’t say anything else but instead stood stiffly glaring at her, his arms folded in a stern way across his massive chest, Jessie was stunned. Having believed he was a man of kindness, of courage, of integrity, she was stunned that he would turn her away, a woman in trouble.

Yes, she was white. But she had thought he would look past the color of her skin and see a woman in need . . . a woman alone.

And what on earth was this about a trick? How could Thunder Horse believe that?

She felt beaten now by two men.