Savage Skies

She could hardly believe that her life had been spared, but surely it had been for a purpose. To find and save her daughter from harm.

In time, oh, if the good Lord was willing, she would be able to fulfill that purpose.

Her head was pounding so hard she found it difficult to hold it up as she continued riding beside the chief, but she did. She didn’t want to look weak in the eyes of these Indians, or they might come to the conclusion that she was not worth the trouble of helping and would leave her behind.

But she had seen how the chief had given her occasional sideways glances.

She supposed he was looking at her like this to see if she was alright and still able to make the journey to his village.

Yet there was something else in his eyes when she happened to meet his gaze. It was nothing akin to the loathing she had thought all Indians felt for white people.

Instead, there was a kindness, a softness in his dark eyes that made her believe she was in the company of someone she could trust.

And there was something else in his eyes that filled her with wonder. He was gazing at her as if she were someone he truly cared for, as though they were not strangers, but instead kindred spirits. She, too, was feeling something vastly different from hate for this red man. She actually felt intrigued by him.

And how could she not?

She had never seen such a handsome man in her entire life. His facial features were sculpted to perfection. His long, black hair, which reached far down his straight, muscular back, was beautiful and shone beneath the rays of the sun as though he had just come from bathing in the river.

And as his hair fluttered when a breeze swept through it, she could almost smell its cleanness. She could almost feel it against the palms of her hands.

How different this man was from her husband. Earl had worn his hair long, too, but it was blond, not shining blue-black. And Earl’s hair had never smelled good.

Then, too, the chief was tall, his body fully muscled. It filled out his fringed buckskins to perfection.

She blushed when she wondered how it would feel to run her hands down the chief’s muscled back.

She had been repelled by the very nearness of Earl’s body after she realized the sort of man he was.

It had gotten so that just being near Earl made her want to vomit.

And Earl was a man who scarcely bathed. The smell of perspiration that always clung to him and his clothes had made her stay as far from him as she could. She had dreaded those times when he would grab her and almost wrestle her to the bed before taking what he wanted from her . . . even in the presence of their precious daughter.

It was so good to know that that would never happen again; nor would she ever have to look into his leering blue eyes as he forced himself on her.

Her thoughts of Earl were interrupted when up ahead, in a clearing of trees, she saw many tepees nestled beside a beautiful river. A bluff reached out high above them on the far side of the village.

And as she grew closer and was able to see the whole camp, she noticed how clean the tepees were, and how smoke spiraled slowly from their smoke holes.

She even smelled the delicious aroma of meat cooking, which caused hunger pangs in the pit of her stomach.

She only now realized just how long it had been since she had eaten. Not since early this morning when she had made oats and fried eggs for herself and Megan.

When Megan came to mind again, tears filled Shirleen’s eyes. She prayed that her child was alive somewhere and being treated

kindly. But she feared that could not be, especially if she was with the damnable Comanche renegades.

She had heard mention of Big Nose among the Indians who had rescued her. Surely he was the one they had truly wanted to find and kill.

Before she had been hit over the head with a war club, she remembered having seen a renegade with a strange-looking bulbous nose, with purple veins running in all directions across it.

Just as she was hit, he had looked at her and smiled cruelly.

Oh, Lord, if that man had her daughter . . . ! Again her thoughts were interrupted, and she was glad, for she did not like where they had taken her.

It was best not to labor over her daughter’s misfortune.

Not now, anyway. There was nothing at all she could do for the present.