Savage Dawn

Although his words seemed to ring in her ears and linger there, Nicole couldn’t just leave without at least trying to help him.

How could she turn her back on someone who was in need of help, even if that person was an Indian? And hadn’t he pleaded earlier for her help?

She couldn’t make any sense of his contradictory words.

But she was very aware that measles could be fatal. Most people recovered from the illness, yet some didn’t.

She knew that there was no cure for the disease. Tender, loving care from a loved one was often what helped the ill pull through. Her mother’s loving care had brought her through the disease.

This man seemed to have no one.

Had his own people chased him off, from fear of getting measles themselves?

He was apparently a man all alone and she just could not leave him there without at least trying to help lower his temperature. She believed that if someone did die from measles, it was because of a fever that had gotten out of control. And that seemed to be the case with this Indian.

No matter what he said, she would take the time to bathe his brow and his powerful chest with cool water. Even if it took her all night, she would try to help him in the only way she knew how.

She was in no hurry to leave this place. At least here she would be safe from Sam Partain.

She would not allow herself to think about that, not now, not when she had the chance to save somebody’s life as she had not had the chance to save her own parents.

Nicole gazed again at the sleeping Indian.

Yes, she was in no hurry to get anywhere, for she had no destination. She had no place to go and was as alone as the Indian; time meant nothing to her anymore.

Her future was one large question mark.

When Nicole heard the Indian groan, she rushed to the stream and wet the piece of her petticoat again, but didn’t wring it out. She wanted to get back to the Indian with as much water on the cloth as she could.

With the cloth dripping wet, she hurried to him, then quickly knelt and applied it to his feverish brow, his cheeks, and then his chest.

Suddenly Nicole felt the Indian shiver, whether in pleasure or shock at the cold water. She did not know.

She looked quickly at his eyes and grew pale when she found them open again. He was watching her every move.

She flinched, dropped the cloth, and crawled quickly away, stopping a few feet from him. Only then did she turn to look at him again.

When their gazes met and held, Nicole felt a strange reaction, like a butterfly fluttering inside her belly.

The Indian continued to gaze into her eyes, as though he was looking far into her soul. His look gave her a sudden, strange feeling of sensuality at the juncture of her thighs. She had never experienced such feelings before.

It was an awakening of sorts, and it felt strangely delicious.

Nicole wondered if these feelings were how a woman felt when she became attracted to a man. Up to now, her life had been too full with family and schooling responsibilities for her to consider having a man in her life.

And she shouldn’t consider it now, especially not with this man. He was a redskin, an enemy to all whites.

But how could she deny how marvelously handsome this Indian was, even while lying there so ill?

He had such a beautifully sculpted face.

And his eyes.

Ah, how his eyes seemed to hypnotize her. They were so dark and penetrating, so beautiful.

And then she could not help looking at his powerful chest and muscled arms, shoulders, and even his legs.

She had never seen a man nude, not even her father, so she could not compare his body with others. But it did not take comparison for Nicole to know that this man was a perfect example of masculine beauty.