Wild Is My Heart (26 page)

Suddenly the pressure on Brave Eagle eased as Colt leaped to his feet and faced the chief, who appeared stunned by the turn of events.

“Is the victory mine?” Colt asked loudly enough for all to hear.

Black Bear nodded, his face giving away nothing of his great sadness. “It is your right to take my son’s life.” “Am I free to leave with Samantha Howard?” “You are free to go where you please. Both of you,” Black Bear advised harshly.

“Then I choose to spare your son’s life.” Picking himself up off the ground, Brave Eagle scowled, certain he hadn’t mistaken the hatred for his people inherent in Colt’s attitude. Such a man would not balk at killing an enemy. In his own defense, Brave Eagle felt no loss of face for Colt’s strange behavior. He was prepared to die, would have done so bravely, and his people knew it. He had fought with courage, but the white man’s cunning had defeated him. It stung to think he would never taste the sweetness of Violet Eyes, for he loved her well and truly.

Black Bear didn’t trust himself to speak. Losing his only son would have been a terrible blow, but Lion Heart had won the right to take his son’s life, and should have. His refusal to do so bewildered Black Bear. Never would he understand the White Eyes. Lion Heart had fought as courageously as Brave Eagle and won Violet Eyes fairly. Lion Heart didn’t strike him as being particularly tenderhearted or squeamish, and Brave Eagle surely would have killed Lion Heart had he the opportunity. What was Lion Heart’s reason for sparing his son’s life? Was it because of Violet Eyes’ plea?

Spirit Dancer sensed his chief’s confusion. “The Great Spirit has seen fit to spare your son. Give thanks by offering Lion Heart something in return. Brave Eagle acquitted himself bravely. There is no shame in defeat at the hands of another of equal strength and courage.”

Black Bear considered Spirit Dancer’s words carefully, deciding to follow the astute shaman’s advice. Turning to Colt, he said, “I did not ask for my son’s life but I willingly accept your gift. But in return you must accept mine. It is the way of our people.”

Colt mulled over the chief’s words, his eyes searching out Sam, who appeared stunned and unbelieving. He wanted to grab her and run as far away from the Comanches as he could get. With that in mind it was not difficult to agree to whatever Black Bear suggested.

“I agree,” Colt replied warily. “I will accept your offerin’.” Christ! He hoped it wasn’t an Indian maiden to warm his bed because he’d sure as hell have to refuse.

“Come to me, Violet Eyes,” Black Bear motioned. Sam approached cautiously, her eyes shimmering with all the pent-up love and longing for Colt she had locked away in her heart.

Christ, she’s beautiful, Colt thought as he watched Sam approach. Her black hair glistened like polished ebony in the brilliant sun, and her skin appeared to be molten gold. But it was her violet eyes that drew his attention. He didn’t want to put a name to what he read in those dark, mysterious depths, but he hoped he hadn’t been mistaken. Once they left this savage environment, he meant to explore all that they promised.

Sam had no opportunity to unburden her heart to Colt, for Black Bear was speaking again. “The Great Spirit above has shown us your future is not with the People, Violet Eyes. But because of the love I bore your mother and the fact that you have no father to see to your welfare, I will assume his authority.”

Sam looked puzzled, while Colt could not think past Black Bear’s statement that he had loved Sam’s mother. His attention sharpened as Black Bear continued. “My gift to you, Lion Heart, is a joining ceremony. When you leave here, Violet Eyes will be your mate. At the feast tonight Spirit Dancer will join you to Violet Eyes.”

“What! A marriage ceremony?” exclaimed Colt, stunned. Though he might eventually come to offer Sam marriage, he didn’t want to be pushed into that decision before it was time.

“Did you think your bravery would go unrewarded? The outcome of the fight with my son made Violet Eyes yours. Are your intentions less honorable than Brave Eagle’s who wanted Violet Eyes for his mate?”

Colt flushed. He was almost certain he loved Sam, but marriage would take some getting used to. Still, an Indian marriage ceremony was hardly binding in the white man’s world. He looked to Sam for guidance and saw only her willingness to comply with the chief’s wishes. Had she planned it this way? Had she conspired with the chief to trap him into marriage? Ridiculous, he told himself—they had had no idea he would win.

Colt realized that the chief had asked him a question and was waiting for an answer.

“Like Brave Eagle I am an honorable man, but I came here to return Sam to her own people, not lookin’ for a mate.”

“Violet Eyes is with her mother’s people. We do not harm one of our own.”

“One of your own? Her mother’s people? I… I don’t understand.”

Suddenly Colt’s eyes widened as his gaze slid to Sam, seeing her in an entirely different light. Hair as black as a raven’s wing, skin golden bronze, eyes slightly aslant in a face that could very well belong to a half-breed—all combined to convince Colt that Black Bear spoke the truth. Why had Sam lied to him? She knew that he despised Indians. Had he known her secret, he probably would never have touched her. And if you believe that you’re a lying varmint, he told himself with a snort of disgust. Suddenly the look on his face changed from one of disbelief to one of utter contempt, causing Sam to catch her breath painfully.

“Colt, I didn’t know,” she attempted to explain. “Please believe me …”

Black Bear motioned her to silence, then turned to Colt, scowling darkly. “Violet Eyes is the daughter of Shy Deer, a Comanche maiden who fell in love with William Howard. She bore him a daughter, but they did not marry. I do not wish the same fate for Violet Eyes, who has become like a daughter to me. You risked your life for her, it is only right that you should take her as your mate. Giving Violet Eyes to you according to our custom is my gift to both of you. You cannot refuse, for you have given your word just as I gave mine. Unless,” the chief said shrewdly, “you are like most White Eyes who speak with two tongues. Should I find your words false I will give Violet Eyes to my son, who greatly desires her.”

Black Bear had spoken the right words. With brutal clarity Colt knew he was trapped. If Sam thought this sham wedding would be binding, she was dead wrong. In fact, everything had changed the moment he learned she was part savage. He was seeing her as if for the first time. Christ! She was a damn redskin! He had made love to a woman with Indian blood flowing through her veins, something he’d sworn he’d never do. Her nasty temper and vile tongue should have given him a clue to her heritage. Colt fumed in impotent rage at the way he had been manipulated, yet he knew there was only one answer.

“Brave Eagle will have to look elsewhere for a mate, Black Bear,” Colt acquiesced none too gallantly. “I’ll join with … Violet eyes.” Now that he knew what she was, her Indian name came easily to his lips.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Sam protested. Colt’s reluctance hurt dreadfully, but she tried not to show it. “It is not our way, Black Bear.”

“Trust me to know what is best for you, Violet Eyes,” Black Bear said shortly. “Go with Fawn and prepare yourself for the ceremony.”

“But…” She got no further as Fawn approached and tugged gently on her hand. Fawn did not look at Colt but kept her eyes properly downcast.

Colt’s face settled into harsh lines as he watched Sam being led off. Had he known how this would end or the secrets that would be revealed, he might have left Sam to her own devices, he reflected, knowing in his heart he lied.

“Go with Spirit Dancer, Lion Heart,” Black Bear said, interrupting Colt’s dark thoughts. “He will tend your wounds and prepare you for the ceremony.”

Sam’s heart plummeted to her feet. Forcing Colt to participate in something he obviously found so distasteful was the last thing she’d intended. If only she could talk to Colt, tell him that this was none of her doing and remind him he need not honor Indian vows once they returned to civilization. The look he had given her when he learned she was part Comanche was so filled with loathing and contempt that it tore her apart. It hurt, hurt terribly, to think he would never again touch her with love and tenderness. Her entire world had turned upside down since learning the truth about herself. What would Will think? Would it change his brotherly feelings, or would she still be his beloved sister?

While Fawn helped Sam bathe and dress in a sleeveless pure white doeskin dress elaborately fringed and beaded, she thought about all that Fawn had revealed to her yesterday, and longed to tell Colt she had found his sister. The way things were progressing, Sam seriously doubted she’d find the time before the ceremony. What would he do when he learned Fawn was his sister Laura? Naturally he’d want to take her away, and no doubt Black Bear would protest since Fawn herself was unwilling to leave her adopted family. She eyed the girl speculatively. Fawn had become so thoroughly Indian that Sam came to the sad conclusion that a miracle was needed to pry her from the bosom of the Comanches. Perhaps she shouldn’t tell Colt about Laura, Sam debated, knowing in her heart she must.

Sensing the direction of Sam’s thoughts, Fawn said, “It would serve no purpose to tell him, Violet Eyes. I will not go with him.”

“Would returning to your people be so bad, Laura?”

“I… I wouldn’t know how to act in a white world. The White Eyes have been my enemy for too many years.”

“Colt is your brother,” Sam reminded gently.

“I… hardly know him. He has changed.”

“So have you, but you have the same blood flowing through your veins,” Sam persisted. “Besides, I couldn’t keep the truth from Colt. He hates me enough already.”

“He wouldn’t be here if he hated you,” Fawn said astutely. “It will not matter to him if I refuse to leave my people.”

Sam snorted derisively. “Colt doesn’t want a half-breed wife. He hates Comanches for killing his parents.”

“Then he will hate me, for I am Comanche,” Fawn insisted stubbornly.

Sam sighed despairingly. Was there nothing she could say to change Laura’s mind? If the girl refused to leave with them, it would add more fuel to Colt’s already burning hatred of Indians. And naturally his anger and disappointment would be directed at her, Sam.

The sun was just setting when Sam was led to the center of the village, where Colt waited with Spirit Dancer. Like her, he was dressed in soft white buckskin elaborately beaded and fringed. Instead of boots he wore moccasins, and his loose-limbed stance belied his raging anger. He looked so handsome it literally stole Sam’s breath away. The breadth of his shoulders, the rippling muscles, slim waist and narrow hips—dear God, no man had a right to look so magnificently male! Why couldn’t he return a tiny part of the love she felt for him? Sam sighed despondently. Then she made the mistake of looking in his face. If Black Bear hadn’t been directly behind her, she would have turned and fled, so fierce and austere was Colt’s expression.

In a surprisingly short time the Indian men circling them began whooping and dancing while the women clapped their hands in time to the drums, which had taken up their beat the moment Spirit Dancer signaled the end of the ceremony. According to Comanche custom,. Sam was now Colt’s mate.

By now darkness had dropped like a curtain about them and the women began passing around food to the men seated around the huge campfire watching the dancers. The Indians loved a celebration and participated fully, dancing, eating, and drinking their own particular brew of strong drink. It was an awesome spectacle, one Sam wouldn’t soon forget.

Throughout the ceremony Colt maintained a stoic expression, gaining perverse pleasure from glancing at Sam from time to time from beneath shuttered lids. She looked more beautiful and provocative than he had ever seen her. His loins ached at the sight of her supple curves moving sinuously inside the clinging doeskin dress. He recalled distinctly how soft her skin had felt beneath the roughness of his fingertips, how her breasts had swelled to the touch of his hands. She tasted delicious; so sweet, so responsive to his need.

Then he remembered the Comanche blood flowing through her veins. It stung to think he had made love to a damn half-breed and enjoyed it. Had he known—His train of thought skidded to a halt. If he wanted to be brutally honest, had he known Sam was part Indian, he still would have made love to her. He couldn’t deny he’d wanted her from the first moment he set eyes on her. He glanced at Sam where she sat sedately beside him and was startled to find himself being regarded somewhat warily by eyes the color of the sky at midnight.

“Violet Eyes,” Colt muttered with something akin to contempt. He made her Comanche name sound dirty and vile. “Whether you like it or not, you’re my squaw now.”

Sam winced, his words as cutting as the Bowie he had used to defeat Brave Eagle. The term he used was derogatory. No self-respecting Indian would call his wife a squaw. Only white men called their Indian whores squaws. Was that how Colt thought of her? As his whore? His Indian whore? Did he despise that half of her so much?

“Colt, don’t look at me like that,” Sam choked on a sob. “I haven’t changed. I’m still the same person you—”

“No!” Colt injected rudely. “Everythin’ is changed, Violet Eyes.”

“Why did you come here?”

“Because I thought I… because I told Will I’d find you,” Colt amended before he revealed too much.