Savage Beloved

She was afraid to ask what it was, and didn’t have to. Two Eagles seemed eager to show her what he had brought into the lodge.

“Do you see what I am holding?” Two Eagles asked tightly. “I took this from your father’s dwelling.”

The color drained from Candy’s face when he yanked the cloth away from the jar, revealing a head inside it. The eyes of the skull stared blankly back at her. . . .

She felt dizzy, then floated away into a dark, deep void as she fainted to the floor.

Chapter Eight

No sister flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother.

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

Candy awakened with a start when she heard someone step up to her bed of blankets. She had no recollection of having unrolled the blankets. She had no recollection of having gone to sleep.

Then she remembered.

She had fainted!

And she shuddered as she now recalled why. The jar with the head in it.

Tears filled her eyes at the realization of who was responsible for such a ghastly act.

Her father.

She hated to think of the other horrendous acts her father might have committed while in command as a powerful colonel.

She had to put such thoughts from her mind or she just might go crazy.

She thought again of where she had spent the night; she knew it was morning now, for the sun was slanting its golden rays down the overhead smoke hole.

She looked up at the white woman who was standing over her, holding a bowl of food. Had this woman put her to bed the night before?

Or had it been Two Eagles?

If it had been Two Eagles, she was glad that he had not removed her clothes. She was still wearing the same skirt and blouse she had been wearing at the horrendous moment of the attack on Fort Hope.

Candy’s stomach growled at the thought of eating, for she had not eaten the food that had been brought to her the night before. Her stomach was too unsettled from the terrors of the day to even try to put food in it.

She had been afraid her dinner might come back up as soon as she ate it.

But realizing that she must eat to keep up her strength, she sat up and was crudely reminded once again of her bondage. The irons had already rubbed her wrists and ankles raw.

“Ma’am, I can’t eat with these irons on my wrists,” she said. “It is too difficult to move, and the dried blood on them sickens me.”

“First off, quit calling me ‘ma’am,’ ” Hawk Woman spat out. “My name is Hawk Woman. Do you understand? Hawk Woman!”

“Alright, Hawk Woman, I’ll remember to call you that from now on,” Candy said, her voice breaking. She was still stunned by this woman’s attitude toward her and the fact that she seemed so Indian, not only in the way she dressed, but also in the name she was called.

“Hawk Woman, will . . . you please remove the irons?” Candy asked, hating the timidness of her tone.

Hawk Woman’s eyes glittered, and her lips twisted into an amused smile. Then she set the bowl down next to Candy.

She gave Candy one more mocking look, then spun around and left Candy alone again.

Candy wasn’t used to being treated so callously. But she