Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance)

Also by Janelle Taylor:

ANYTHING FOR LOVE

BY CANDLELIGHT

CHASE THE WIND

DESTINY MINE

DESTINY'S TEMPTRESS

FIRST LOVE, WILD LOVE

FOLLOW THE WIND

FORTUNE'S FLAMES

GOLDEN TORMENT

KISS OF THE NIGHT WIND

THE LAST VIKING QUEEN

LOVE ME WITH FURY

MIDNIGHT SECRETS

PASSIONS WILD AND FREE

PROMISE ME FOREVER

SWEET, SAVAGE HEART

TAKING CHANCES

WHISPERED KISSES

WILD IS MY LOVE

WILD WINDS

The Moondust and Madness Series:

MOONDUST AND MADNESS

STARDUST AND SHADOWS

STARLIGHT AND SPLENDOR

MOONBEAMS AND MAGIC

The Savage Ecstasy Series:

SAVAGE ECSTASY

DEFIANT ECSTASY

FORBIDDEN ECSTASY

BRAZEN ECSTASY

TENDER ECSTASY

STOLEN ECSTASY

BITTERSWEET ECSTASY

FOREVER ECSTASY

SAVAGE CONQUEST

JANELLE
TAYLOR

Dedicated to:

My husband, Michael, and mother-in-law, Betty Taylor,
my fantastic research assistants on this novel.

My daughter, Melanie Taylor,
for her research assistance.

And,
Dick Griebe
Pony Soldier RV Park
a generyts and kind man who opened his campground in the wintery
of season to allow Michael and Betty to camp there to do
additional research at Fort Laramie and in the surrounding area,
and who gifted them with a bottle of wine to warm their chilly
bones. A big thanks from me!

April 1851

Paha Sapa (The Black Hills

As the brave knelt by the fallen doe, a blade in his hand ready to skin
and butcher the animal, Wind Dancer crept forward until he was close
enough to prevent the stranger from having time to retrieve a bow and
quiver of arrows from near a tree, and he cautioned. "It is not safe or
wise to steal the hunt of another. Put away your knife and go in peace
while I claim what is mine."

The brave leapt to his feet and whirled to face Wind Dancer, whose
eyes widened in surprise, for it was a woman-not a man-who stood
before him. Long black braids hung over her shoulders. She was clad
in a buckskin shirt, fringed leggings, and a breechclout-a man's garments. But she was the most beautiful female he had seen, and for a
short time, he simply stared at her in amazement. Her dark brown eyes
studied him from head to foot, then she raised one brow slightly and
looked directly into his gaze as she pointed her knife toward him. He
wondered if she recognized him. He also wondered to which band she
belonged, as nothing upon her unbeaded and unpainted garments and
weapons gave him a clue to her tribal identity. She narrowed her gaze
and glared at him as if its flames of anger could sear away his life force. Then she spoke, her voice, the sound of soft and slow moving water,
her words as hard and stinging as a thrown stone.

"It is not safe or wise to prey on another band's hunting grounds.
Why do you risk trouble by stealing an ally's game? There is no coup
to be earned by such reckless theft. Have your people slain or driven all
creatures from your grounds? Is that why you encroach upon another's?"

Wind Dancer did not know if her behavior resulted from shame,
courage, arrogance, or ignorance but he was disappointed and vexed by
her rudeness and apparent lack of training. He was a famed warrior, a
man, son of a chief, a future chief himself. She should not speak such
words to him. "The deer was not slain on your people's grounds," he
explained. "A wounded animal roams where it wills; a hunter must
track it and find it to end its suffering. She is mine, for my arrow lodges
in her body. Look, it bears my markings." He watched her eye the
feathered shaft which he withdrew from his quiver and held before him,
then half-turn to compare its painted symbols to the arrow's which was
embedded in the doe's chest. Despite viewing that proof, she shrugged,
frowned, and insulted him again.