Savage Illusions

Running out in­to the cle­ar, cle­an air of night, Jole­na mo­ved re­len­t­les­sly on­ward, kno­wing she must put much dis­tan­ce bet­we­en her­self and Two Rid­ges. When he ca­me to and fo­und her go­ne, he wo­uld su­rely not le­ave a sto­ne un­tur­ned to find her aga­in.

And if he fo­und her, what then?

Would he kill her?

Or con­ti­nue whe­re he had left of­fand ra­pe her?

Both tho­ughts sent chills ra­cing up and down her spi­ne.

"His hor­se!" she cri­ed. "Why didn't I think to get his hor­se?"

But she had be­en too eager to get as far from him as she co­uld, and sin­ce she had not se­en the hor­se, it had not co­me to her mind to ta­ke it.

Stopping to draw the blan­ket over her sho­ul­ders, she lo­oked in all di­rec­ti­ons, won­de­ring which ro­ute wo­uld get her to ci­vi­li­za­ti­on the fas­test.

Fort Chan­ce was many mi­les away, and she knew not whe­re the Blac­k­fo­ot vil­la­ge might be.

It truly didn't mat­ter which way she went. Spot­ted Eag­le wo­uld not be the­re.

She ga­zed thro­ugh a bre­ak in the tre­es over­he­ad and sta­red at the flecks of stars blin­king down at her. "Oh, Lord, why did this ha­ve to hap­pen?" she pra­yed. "Why was I al­lo­wed to fall so madly in lo­ve, and then ha­ve to le­arn how to li­ve wit­ho­ut him? Why, Lord? What ha­ve I do­ne to de­ser­ve this?"

She lo­we­red her eyes and ga­zed ca­uti­o­usly aro­und her. The only so­unds we­re frogs fa­irly crac­king the air with the­ir no­ise. The night was fil­led with a qu­e­er, lu­mi­no­us dar­k­ness. It was li­ke vel­vet, soft yet he­avy, but the mo­on­light enab­led her to dimly see the dif­fe­rent obj­ects all aro­und her.

The fo­rest, al­ways a thing of mystery at night, sto­od as tho­ugh re­ady to en­fold her wit­hin its dark arms, chil­ling her with ter­ror at the pros­pect of ne­ver be­ing fo­und.

She shud­de­red at the tho­ught of be­ing at­tac­ked by a pan­t­her, wolf, or be­ar. A co­yo­te's sud­den long howl from so­mew­he­re in the dis­tan­ce star­t­led Jole­na in­to a mad run. She stum­b­led thro­ugh the dar­k­ness, so­on dis­co­ve­ring that all the for­ces of na­tu­re se­emed pit­ted aga­inst her. The bus­hes we­re so clo­se-set that they tan­g­led her prog­ress slo­wed to that of a sna­il. When she step­ped from the fo­rest on­to a stretch of open me­adow, only then co­uld she run aga­in as the mo­on now lig­h­ted the mo­un­ta­ins lo­oming ahe­ad of her.

Tears stre­amed down her che­eks aga­in at the tho­ught of the she­er drop from the cliff that had ta­ken the li­ves of so many.

"Spotted Eag­le," she cri­ed mo­ur­n­ful­ly alo­ud, her vo­ice ec­ho­ing back at her, ha­un­tingly over and over aga­in.

A hor­se whin­nying stir­red Two Rid­ges awa­ke. He blin­ked his eyes ner­vo­usly and re­ac­hed a hand to his throb­bing he­ad, sud­denly re­cal­ling what had hap­pe­ned.

Angry at him­self for al­lo­wing a me­re wo­man to ta­ke ad­van­ta­ge of him, he mo­ved qu­ickly to his fe­et.

The fi­re was al­most out. Smol­de­ring as­hes ga­ve off only eno­ugh light for Two Rid­ges to see that he was qu­ite alo­ne.

He kic­ked at so­me lo­ose rock at his fe­et. "She es­ca­ped!" he his­sed bet­we­en clen­c­hed te­eth. " Hai-yah, she es­ca­ped!"

Dizzy from a se­ve­re he­adac­he, Two Rid­ges stum­b­led thro­ugh the gray dar­k­ness un­til he fo­und his hor­se, which had be­en se­cu­red in the far­t­her depths of the ca­ve, whe­re a stre­am me­an­de­red in­to the ca­vern thro­ugh cracks and cre­vi­ces.

Flinging his sad­dle on­to his hor­se, Two Rid­ges tri­ed to de­ci­de what he must do. If he didn't find Jole­na be­fo­re Spot­ted Eag­le fo­und her, she wo­uld tell Spot­ted Eag­le ever­y­t­hing!

Taking the re­ins, he led his hor­se thro­ugh the dank dar­k­ness of the ca­ve. To ke­ep his ho­nor in­tact, Two Rid­ges knew, eit­her Spot­ted Eag­le or Jole­na must die. Or both.

Frowning, he led his hor­se out in­to the open spa­ce whe­re day­light was bre­aking along the ho­ri­zon. Swin­ging him­self in­to the sad­dle, he knew that he wo­uld be kil­ling who­me­ver he ca­me ac­ross first, whet­her it was his long-ti­me fri­end or the wo­man who he now knew wo­uld ne­ver be his.

He sank his he­els in­to the flanks of his hor­se and ro­de in­to the sha­dows of the fo­rest.

Chapter Twenty

The loss of her brot­her and Spot­ted Eag­le lying he­avy on her he­art, Jole­na wal­ked aim­les­sly on­ward, re­li­eved that it was now day­light so it wo­uld be easi­er for her to ke­ep watch for dan­ge­ro­us ani­mals. In her mind's eye, she kept re­li­ving the night the pan­t­her had stal­ked her.

But Spot­ted Eag­le had be­en the­re for her then!

Now she was so­lely de­pen­dant on her­self. She ho­ped she wo­uld co­me upon tra­ve­lers or per­haps even find her­self in a Blac­k­fo­ot vil­la­ge.

Bone- tired and sle­epy, Jole­na fo­und it hard to mo­ve one fo­ot ahe­ad of the ot­her. She was tra­ve­ling thro­ugh a wil­der­ness that was not easily tra­ver­sed. If she wasn't go­ing thro­ugh dark fo­rests with clo­se thic­kets and ra­pid stre­ams, she was wal­king along cliffs with she­er drop-of­fs and wildly flung rocks.