Savage Skies
Authors: Cassie Edwards
SAVAGE
SERIES
Winner of the
Romantic Times
Lifetime Achievement Award for Best Indian Series!
“Cassie Edwards writes action-packed, sexy reads! Romance fans will be more than satisfied!”
â
Romantic Times
“I do not ask for the white woman,” Gray Eyes said. “My friend will you take her?”
Blue Thunder hesitated. He had never wanted captives of any sort, especially those with white skin. He had no wish to give the white pony soldiers cause to come to his village because a white woman was there.
But . . . this was not just any white woman. He had seen enough of her to know that she was someone who intrigued him to the very core of his being. He slowly nodded as he took slow steps toward Shirleen, his gaze never leaving her green eyes. “Yes, I will take her.”
Shirleen trembled as Blue Thunder stepped up to her, his eyes reaching into her soul it seemed.
Other books by Cassie Edwards:
TOUCH THE WILD WIND
ROSES AFTER RAIN
WHEN PASSION CALLS
EDEN'S PROMISE
ISLAND RAPTURE
SECRETS OF MY HEART
The
Savage
Series:
SAVAGE INTRIGUE
SAVAGE QUEST
SAVAGE TEMPEST
SAVAGE BELOVED
SAVAGE ARROW
SAVAGE VISION
SAVAGE COURAGE
SAVAGE HOPE
SAVAGE TRUST
SAVAGE HERO
SAVAGE DESTINY
SAVAGE LOVE
SAVAGE MOON
SAVAGE HONOR
SAVAGE THUNDER
SAVAGE DEVOTION
SAVAGE GRACE
SAVAGE FIRES
SAVAGE JOY
SAVAGE WONDER
SAVAGE HEAT
SAVAGE DANCE
SAVAGE TEARS
SAVAGE LONGINGS
SAVAGE DREAM
SAVAGE BLISS
SAVAGE WHISPERS
SAVAGE SHADOWS
SAVAGE SPLENDOR
SAVAGE EDEN
SAVAGE SURRENDER
SAVAGE PASSIONS
SAVAGE SECRETS
SAVAGE PRIDE
SAVAGE SPIRIT
SAVAGE EMBERS
SAVAGE ILLUSION
SAVAGE SUNRISE
SAVAGE MISTS
SAVAGE PROMISE
SAVAGE PERSUASION
CASSIE EDWARDS
DORCHESTER PUBLISHING
April 2011
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2007 by Cassie Edwards
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 13: 978-1-4285-1187-3
E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0408-0
The “DP” logo is the property of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Visit us online at
www.dorchesterpub.com
.
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I lovingly dedicate
Savage Skies
, my l00th published book, to my husband Charlie. It was Charlie who believed in me and in my ability to write the first book before I believed in myself. Thank you, sweet Charlie!
Also, in friendship, and a big thank you, I dedicate
Savage Skies
to a dear friend, Nancy McGennis, who many years ago loaned me one of her books to read. . . . an historical romance. It was the very first historical romance that I ever read and I immediately became hooked on that genre of books, so much that I decided to write one myself. That first book was published as well as all the others that I have written since then. Thank you, Nancy, for giving me the inspiration to write. I can't imagine what my life would be had I never known the love of writing!
With much appreciation I dedicate my l00th book to Alicia Condon, my very special editor at Dorchester, who has played a major role in my success as an author. Thank you, Alicia!
I also thank John Prebich, president and publisher of Dorchester Publishing, as well as the entire Dorchester staff, for helping make my
Savage
Series the success that it has become!
And now, on to my next l00!
Love,
Cassie
He rode quickly and stealthily through the night,
Heart racing, never stopping until he had her in sight.
Long, waist-length auburn hair,
Blowing in the night breeze without care.
Eyes that penetrate and shine like the bright sky,
To see her again he had to tell a forbidden lie.
How could he be so dishonest, their noble chief,
At that thought his heart ached with such grief.
Oh, Great Spirit, from up above,
Please help my people accept the woman I deeply love.
Â
âMelissa Duncan,
Poet, fan, and friend
SAVAGE SKIES
Through many changing years
We have shared each other's gladness,
And we wept each other's tears. . . .âJefferys
Wyoming, l85l
Autumnâthe moon when the calf grows hair
The sun spiraled lazily down the smoke hole of the largest tepee in the village of the Wind Band of Assiniboine Indians, a name which meant literally “our people.”
This was the lodge of Chief Wa-ke-un-to, Blue Thunder. Twenty-eight winters of age, he was a muscled and boldly handsome man. His sculpted features contrasted vividly with the pockmarked face of the man who sat with him in private council.
Gray Eyes was a dear childhood friend of Blue Thunder and chief of the neighboring White Owl Band of Assiniboine.
“It is good to have you sitting with me again, my friend,” Blue Thunder said. “Tell me why you have need of council with your friend Blue Thunder. I am always here to listen and to offer help, if it is needed.”
“I come with sad news,” Gray Eyes said
solemnly. “I hate to ask for your help again, my friend, but times are hard for my people, and this time our misfortune is not of my doing. I need to ask your warriors' assistance in a task that will be dangerous for us all.”
The tail feather of an eagle hung from a lock of hair at the right side of Gray Eyes' head as the mark of his chieftaincy.
He gazed at his friend, who wore a similar feather in his own long, black hair. Like Gray Eyes, Blue Thunder was attired in fringed buckskin and moccasins.
“Never feel ashamed of the trouble life has brought you, but take from it the strength to make things better again for your people,” Blue Thunder said, gazing at his friend's pockmarked face.
It was so disfigured, Blue Thunder could barely recognize him. Blue Thunder had warned his friend not to go to the white man's trading post while the disease called smallpox was killing so many white and red-skinned people.
Knowing of the danger, Blue Thunder had separated his own band from others during this time. As a result, the Wind Band remained unscathed by the disease.
For a moment Blue Thunder wondered if he should risk the lives of his warriors to help a chief who had disregarded Blue Thunder's earlier warnings.
Should he tell Gray Eyes that he must live with the decision that now haunted him?
But no, Blue Thunder loved Gray Eyes as
much as he would love a brother. The two had learned to shoot and ride together as children, and he knew that he could not refuse his friend anything.
“Tell me now about the problem that has brought you here today,” Blue Thunder invited.
He slid a wooden tray of various foods, both meats and fruits, closer to his friend, who still refused to choose anything.
It was apparent that food was the farthest thing from Gray Eyes' mind, and Blue Thunder was anxious to know what caused such distress.
“I have come to sit with you and talk alone with you, having left my remaining warriors to protect the survivors of a recent ambush on my village by the Comanche renegade, Big Nose,” Gray Eyes said, his voice drawn with emotion. “The Comanche knew how weakened my people were from smallpox. Our band has been reduced from one hundred fifty lodges to eighty. Big Nose took advantage of this weakness and captured not only many of my strongest warriors, but also a great number of our horses.”
“And you want vengeance,” Blue Thunder guessed. He chose a piece of venison from the tray and took a bite, his eyes gazing intently into Gray Eyes'.
“I want more than that,” Gray Eyes said, his gaze suddenly aflame with hate. And then his look softened into concern. “I want my warriors back, or my band will not survive. Will
you ride with me, Blue Thunder, to go and reclaim what is mine? Will you choose your best warriors to accompany us? Getting back what is mine will not be easy. Some may die to rescue my warriors. Are you prepared to chance that? Or would you rather I leave and set out after Big Nose with the few warriors who are left to ride with me?”
Gray Eyes lowered his gaze. “I am asking too much of my friend this time,” he said thickly.
He ran a hand across his pock-scarred brow. Feeling the scars was always a reminder of what he had so unwisely done.
He had taken his warriors to that trading post, even though he'd heard the rumors that it was overrun by the white man's disease.
But the pelts that he had for trade that year had been too good not to take the chance. He and his men had been eager to get what they could from the richest pelts they'd hunted in many a moon.
And there were only four or five months out of a full year when the fur of the animals was marketable. The rest of the year, his warriors killed only enough to provide meat, clothing, and lodges for their families.
If he had not taken advantage of that special time when he'd had so many plush pelts, he knew that someone else would have filled the shelves of the trading post, leaving no space for his furs.
So he had chanced everything, and had lost in the worst way.
Ho
, yes, he had gotten what was due him in trade, but the sacrifice had been the most terrible any village of people could suffer.
Many had died, and those who had not were scarred for life.
“Please do not lower your eyes in shame,” Blue Thunder said. He reached over and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. “My friend, you know that I would never let you down, even if you did refuse to listen to my warning about the white man's disease. You have already paid the price of not heeding my warning, and now it is time to forget and to move forward.”
Gray Eyes lifted his chin and gazed directly into Blue Thunder's eyes. “You will join me then to hunt for the Comanche who came and killed and stole from Gray Eyes and his people?” he asked hopefully. “I fear that if you do not help me, my small band is doomed. We will eventually lose everything.”