Savage Beloved

He saw that she had been fed; the empty bowl was sitting beside her.

He even saw a bone that had been stripped of meat beside Shadow, the wolf was peacefully sleeping now with a full stomach.

Candy watched wide-eyed as Two Eagles knelt beside her and first removed the painful irons from her wrists, and then from her ankles.

“Why are you doing that?” she finally asked, rubbing her raw wrists as he laid the chains and irons aside.

“There will be many stories told tonight beside the outdoor fire, and I think it would be good if you were there to hear them,” Two Eagles said, wincing when he saw some blood ooze from an abrasion on one wrist. He looked away from it and instead into her eyes. “Come. I will take you there.”

Candy was stunned that he had removed the horrible, painful irons, yet so glad. She was also surprised that he would allow her to sit amid his people to hear their stories.

But no matter why he was doing any of this, she welcomed the reprieve from being a hostage, if only for a little while. She knew that when the stories were over, Two Eagles would make her wear the dreadful things again.

Candy rose to her feet and trembled inside when Two Eagles very gently took her by an elbow and helped her outside. The touch of his hand on her flesh seemed something born of magic, for although he was her captor, and she should hate him with every fiber of her being, there was nothing inside her that could hate him.

Although he had attacked the fort, she could not really blame him. He had been pushed to the end of his patience after seeing what had been done to his uncle.

She would never forget the kind words that Short Robe had had for his nephew, about how he had always been a man of peace.

Outside, the large fire painted its glow across the dark heavens. The children sat in a large cluster at one side of the fire, where an elderly man of about Short Robe’s age sat before them. The parents of the children sat back a little from them. All were attentive as the storyteller began his first tale.

The scene brought Candy a strange feeling of peace. For a moment, she could forget the ugliness of the world and her own plight.

She sat down beside Two Eagles on a blanket spread out on the ground. She felt many eyes on her and realized some of the people were not pleased to see her sitting beside their chief as though she belonged there.

And then she felt another pair of eyes on her.

She looked slowly over to where Hawk Woman was standing back from the others, at the entrance of a tepee. The other woman was gazing contemptuously at Candy, sending icy shivers of warning up and down her spine.

Candy sensed that Hawk Woman saw Candy as nothing but an interference. She realized that she must be aware of Hawk Woman’s every movement, for she did not trust her one iota. Candy would only feel safe at night because Shadow would be protectively at her side.

Nothing would get past her wolf.

Just as she thought of Shadow, she saw her wolf leave the tepee and come limping toward her. When she reached Candy, the wolf lay down beside her opposite Two Eagles.

When Shadow scooted closer and rested her head on Candy’s lap, Candy stroked her fur.

When Candy gave Two Eagles a glance, she found him gazing kindly at the wolf, and . . . then . . . he looked into Candy’s eyes, revealing feelings far different from what a captor should feel for his captive.

Candy’s pulse raced, for she now knew that he did not hate her, or want to harm her. He was being drawn into caring for her as she was for him, yet it was an impossible attraction . . . one that could lead nowhere.

Candy looked quickly away from him and forced herself to think of something else.

She listened to the Indian lore being told by an old man who called himself Blazing Sun. She found it hard to concentrate, yet the more she listened, the more intriguing she found the stories.

She was fascinated by these people who were so different from her. She found it hard to understand how whites could hate them so much . . . and call all Indians savages.

Living among soldiers, she had seen many white men who could truly be labeled savage; they needlessly killed innocent people just because their skin was red.

She had heard tales about the cavalry riding into an Indian village and slaughtering not only the warriors, but also the women and children.

Her father had tried to keep these stories from reaching Candy’s ears, but being so inquisitive about life in general, she had heard more than she sometimes wanted to hear.

She had had nightmares those nights.

Tonight, after hearing such wondrous tales of the Wichita, she did not expect to have nightmares.

Yet there was one person who might cause them: Hawk Woman.