Wild Whispers Page 5

  Little Sparrow, recalling how she had sneaked away from Good Bear while he had been watching the naked lady, hung her head.

  Again Fire Thunder raised her eyes to his. “Little Sparrow, where . . . is . . . Good Bear?” he persisted.

  Tears flooded Little Sparrow’s eyes. She shook her head, then gestured with her shoulders and spoke in sign language to her brother, explaining that she did not know where Good Bear was.

  “Do you think he is here, hidden somewhere in a cage like the one you were in?” Fire Thunder asked. He squinted his eyes as he surveyed the shadows around the campsite, seeing no more cages.

  Little Sparrow shook her head.

  “Then why wasn’t he with the others who returned from San Carlos?” he asked, fear entering his heart over the welfare of the young brave.

  Again Little Sparrow gave him a soft shrug.

  “We will search for him later,” Fire Thunder said, again focusing his attention on John Shelton. “Your name. Tell me your name.”

  “That’s none of your damn business,” John said, squaring his shoulders.

  Black Hair slapped John across the face. “Do not continue being insolent to my chief,” he said darkly. “Answer him. What is your name?”

  Blood was trickling from the corner of John’s mouth and from his nose.

  Anna ran to John and cowered beside him. She gave Fire Thunder a soft, pleading look. “His name is John. John Shelton. I am his wife,” she said meekly, as though it were unusual for her to speak up. “Let us go. John made a mistake. I apologize for him. Please let us be on our way.”

  “Shelton,” Fire Thunder said, recalling the name Shelton written in bold letters on the covered wagons that belonged to the caravan. “So you are the owner of this carnival?”

  Fire Thunder’s gaze slid slowly over to Kaylene. “What is she to you?” he asked, trying to hate her.

  “She . . . is . . . Kaylene,” Anna said, giving Kaylene a warning look. “She is our daughter.” Anna then looked wildly up at Fire Thunder. “She isn’t to blame for any of this,” she blurted out. “Please don’t harm her.”

  Fire Thunder and Kaylene’s eyes locked for a moment longer, causing Kaylene’s knees to weaken beneath his steady stare. Her heart throbbed and her face grew hot with a blush when his eyes lowered and she could feel his gaze hot on the cleavage of her breasts.

  But when Fire Thunder jerked his eyes away and seemed to quickly forget her, Kaylene was torn with how to feel. A part of her was afraid of what he had planned for her and her family. A part of her wanted so badly to be liked by him.

  No, not liked—she thought to herself. Loved.

  For the first time in her life she had found a man who touched her deeply. From her head to her toes she felt a hungry desire . . . a strange yearning.

  And she knew those feelings were foolish. Obviously she was nothing but an enemy to this man, someone he surely detested, for she was the daughter of the man guilty of having caged his sister.

  Fire Thunder ignored the heat of his loins, the need to have this woman as his own threatening to overwhelm him. He forced himself to think of only one thing—revenge. He must make this man pay for what he did to his sister.

  The fact that this evil man had even touched his sister’s flesh, dirtying her pureness, made Fire Thunder’s insides boil with a renewed rage. Surely, this evil man had further degradation planned for Little Sparrow. Fire Thunder quickly made his decision of how to make John pay for his dirty deed.

  Fire Thunder looked over his shoulder at his men. “Little Beak! Many Horses! Come and take this man away!” he shouted. “Many Horses, tie him up. Take him on your horse. You know what we do with our enemies!”

  His warriors dismounted and went to John.

  Pale, Anna watched her husband taken away, half dragged to Many Horses’s mount and tied onto it behind the saddle. A part of her wanted to reach out and beg again for his release, for she was helpless without him. But a part of her was glad that he was being treated in such a way. For having treated her so unjustly for so many years, he deserved what he was getting now at the hands of the Indians.

  Fire Thunder felt Anna’s eyes on him. He turned to her. “Woman, be thankful you are not included in this vengeance,” he said, as he placed Little Sparrow on his horse. “As for your husband, he must pay for the humiliation he has brought upon my sister. You know, deep in your heart, that he deserves being reprimanded for what he has done to an innocent child.”

  Anna backed away from Fire Thunder, cowering even more.

  Fire Thunder looked over at Kaylene. Again his heart leaped at the mere sight of her, and at her nearness. “Black Hair, seize the woman named Kaylene!” he suddenly blurted out.

  Kaylene sucked in a wild breath and backed away from Fire Thunder. Every fiber of her being cried out in alarm as to what his intentions for her might be. But deep inside her, where her desires were formed, she only wanted one thing from him: To be loved! Not hated!

  But it looked as though he was including her in his vengeance and she saw her future as bleak. She might even die before she saw another sunrise.

  Kaylene started to turn and run away, but something held her there, as though something willed her not to be afraid, not to look foolish by trying to take flight when she knew that she could not possibly get far. There were too many warriors on horseback, and too many rifles pointed her way.

  Black Hair questioned Fire Thunder with his eyes about the white woman. But not wanting to look insolent in front of the other warriors, he hurried to Kaylene and grabbed her by an arm and shoved her toward Fire Thunder’s horse.

  Kaylene’s mother went wild. She found the courage to run to Black Hair and pound on his back as he lifted Kaylene to the front of the saddle.

  Fire Thunder went to Anna and grabbed her around the waist and lifted her from the ground. He carried her over to stand among the other white people. He gave one of the men a cold stare. “Keep her here with you or she will die,” he said icily.

  Then he shot warning glances all around him. “None of you follow with thoughts of freeing the man and woman,” he shouted. He lifted a fist into the air. “Or the man will be the first to die, and then the . . . woman.”

  He smiled demonically. “And then I shall take delight in seeing you die a slow death for interfering with the vengeance of a mighty Kickapoo chief,” he snarled out.

  Frightened by her brother’s anger, Little Sparrow slid quickly from Black Hair’s horse and ran to him. She stood before him and pleaded with him with wide, tearful eyes as she signed to him. She relayed to him with quick movement of her fingers that Kaylene was good, that she did not deserve to be harmed over the wrongful deeds of an evil father. She pleaded with her brother not to harm the beautiful, sweet, white woman.

  Touched by Little Sparrow’s vouching for Kaylene, knowing that the woman must have been kind to her. Little Sparrow was cautious to whom she offered friendship. Fire Thunder bent on a knee before his sister.

  Speaking in sign language, which he hoped Kaylene could not understand, Fire Thunder explained to Little Sparrow that he had no intention, whatsoever, of harming the white woman. He told Little Sparrow that he had feelings for the white woman that he had to sort out.

  No, no matter what happened, he was not going to harm her.

  But for now, he was going to use her as a pawn.

  Little Sparrow gazed up at her brother with wonder. She was confused as to how her brother could have feelings for a woman that he had only met moments ago.

  But relieved that he meant Kaylene no harm, Little Sparrow gave Fire Thunder a tender hug, then went back to Black Hair. She smiled at Black Hair as he lifted her on his horse with him. Fire Thunder swung himself into his saddle behind Kaylene.

  A sensual thrill swept through Kaylene when Fire Thunder slipped his muscled arm around her waist and held her in place before him in his saddle. The toes of her bare feet curled with delight, and she sighed as he bent down close to her, his bre
ath hot on her cheek.

  “Behave,” he whispered as the sweet fragrant smell of her hair caused his insides to warm with need.

  Kaylene flashed him a frown over her shoulder. But she didn’t speak, for fear of her voice giving away her feelings, feelings that confused her. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to fear him. But neither emotion plagued her.

  She must remember that the fate of both her and her father lay in the hands of this powerful Kickapoo chief. She must do nothing to stir his wrath any more. For now she would cooperate. Hopefully, somehow, she could find a way to release her father later. They both would flee into the dark, even though she wanted nothing more than to be held in the arms of this handsome Indian.

  When sensual thoughts would creep into her consciousness, she would keep reminding herself that he was her enemy.

  Fire Thunder gazed into Kaylene’s green eyes, glad when she turned them away from him. He must fight this pulsing need for this woman. For now, family came first. His sister’s vengeance must be dealt with!

  Sinking his moccasined heels into the flanks of his proud steed, Fire Thunder rode away from the campsite, his warriors following dutifully.

  Kaylene took one last look over her shoulder, to see how her mother was faring. She stiffened and tears spilled from her eyes when she discovered that her mother had fainted.

  Fighting back the tears, feeling helpless, Kaylene turned her eyes back around and focused them on her father. She was confused about him. It looked like he may have purposely abducted the small Indian child, yet he had said that she had come to him, asking to stay with the carnival.

  Yet Little Sparrow’s behavior toward Kaylene’s father made Kaylene believe that, yes, he may have abducted her and made up the story to make himself look less the rogue.

  And to have caged her!

  Did that not prove that his intentions were evil . . . that he thought only of his own selfish needs, not the child’s?

  Yet, she just would not allow herself to believe that her father could be this evil. Yes, while growing up, at times she had feared her father. She had felt that something was missing that should be there between a father and daughter. And she would never forget the times she had witnessed him physically abusing her mother!

  Was her father just basically cold and evil?

  No. She would not think that about him at this time, when he lay tied so helplessly to an Indian’s horse.

  She wanted to think the best of him. She wanted to believe that the child had come to him, perhaps having fled from the Kickapoo village for another purpose.

  But again, there was the missing boy. What had happened to him?

  Had this small Indian girl fled with the young boy, both running from something in their lives that was not pleasant? Had the young girl had a change of heart after seeing that the world could be cruel to her everywhere? No. Kaylene would not think the worst of her father. Not until there was absolute proof that he was evil through and through, and that he had abducted the girl.

  Kaylene could not help but wonder, though, just how many lies her father might have told her through the years. Was that dark side of him that she had grown to know even worse than she ever imagined?

  She shivered at the thought of him possibly having abducted the child. If he was this evil, was there something about herself that might one day prove that she was just as evil? As sinister? Because her father’s blood ran through her veins!

  They rode awhile longer, then Fire Thunder drew a tight rein and stopped his horse at the border of Mexico and Texas, at the Rio Grande. He wheeled his horse around and faced his men.

  “Many Horses and Black Hair, dig a pit in the ground!” Fire Thunder shouted. “You know what sort I mean. Leave the center unexcavated and higher than the ground around it.”

  “What . . . ?” Kaylene gasped, paling at the thought of what this pit might be for.

  Fire Thunder dismounted and placed his hands at Kaylene’s waist and helped her to the ground.

  He turned her back to him and yanked her against him. One arm went around her waist and held her in a steely like grip.

  Kaylene’s heart thudded as she watched her father being taken from Many Horses’ steed. She feared that it meant nothing good when the rope was untied from around him and thrown to the ground.

  Kaylene scarcely breathed as she waited and watched. When the pit was soon completed, she flinched and stifled a gasp behind her hand when her father was shoved in.

  Kaylene stiffened as she watched the rest of the proceedings. She could hardly believe what she was witnessing. How could they . . . ? Were they . . . ?

  Then she knew. God, she knew!

  She never felt as helpless in her entire life as now.

  Black Hair took strips of buckskin to the river and soaked them. Four other warriors pounded stakes into the ground on the edge of the pit.

  Kaylene screamed when her father was forced to stretch out across the pit, his arms and wrists tied to the stakes with the wet buckskin thongs, while his body, humped in the middle, lay facedown.

  One of Fire Thunder’s warriors took a buckskin bag to the pit and shook a rattlesnake from its depths into the pit.

  Kaylene could take no more. She shoved and yanked at Fire Thunder’s arm in an effort to get free. She dug her nails into the buckskin fabric of his shirt, hoping he could feel their sharpness through it.

  But Fire Thunder didn’t wince. Nor did he budge. He continued to hold her tightly against him.

  “Please don’t do this to my father!” Kaylene cried as she looked up at Fire Thunder. “Please! Set him free! He . . . will . . . die!”

  Fire Thunder gazed down at her, his blue eyes gleaming. “That is exactly what I have in mind,” he said, smiling smugly down at her.

  Kaylene turned her eyes away from him and spat at his feet. “You are a dark and sinister man,” she cried. “You are heartless!”

  Fire Thunder yanked her around to face him.

  His fingers dug into the flesh of her arms as he held her at arm’s length. He glowered down at her.

  “Your father is the darkest-hearted man of all,” he said tightly. “He preys on innocent, small children. Our Kickapoo children are revered! Never defiled! Your father will never defile children again!”

  Limp and exhausted from trying to get away from Fire Thunder, Kaylene gave in as he took her to his horse and lifted her into the saddle.

  She hung her head as they left her father behind in the pit just as the sun rose along the horizon.

  Soon it would be hot. Soon the wet thongs tied to her father’s wrists and ankles would dry and shrink.

  His circulation would be cut off.

  And the snake would want to leave the hot pit. It would slither up the sides of the pit....

  White Wolf and Dawnmarie traveled onward on horseback. They had not stopped to rest. They had traveled at night instead of during the long, hot days of sunshine.

  Dawnmarie cast White Wolf a forlorn look. “I doubt I will ever find my people,” she said, limp with exhaustion. “If not soon, I will be tempted to turn back and return to Wisconsin. I am weary of the long days of travel. I miss our children more and more as each day passes.”

  “We have come this far, please do not give up now,” White Wolf said. He reached over and placed a gentle hand to her cheek. “I love you and know you better than anyone. If you do not find your Kickapoo people, your heart . . . your longing . . . will never truly rest. We are close. You know it. We know the Kickapoo are in Mexico. We soon will be there.”

  “But, darling, I—”

  She stopped in midsentence when she saw a ranch house just ahead, along the horizon. They had judged that they would soon be at the Mexican border. This would be a perfect place to find shelter and, hopefully, food, before they traveled onward.

  They went to the ranch. They didn’t even get off their horses before the rancher came outside, leveling a shotgun at them with a dog at his side, its teeth bared as it growled.
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  “Get on with you,” the man shouted, motioning with his shotgun toward them. “I’ve had my bellyful of Injuns lately. You’re all nothing but thieving renegades. I only recently lost almost every head of longhorns that I owned. I know that one tribe or another took them.”

  “We are not responsible,” White Wolf said. He gestured toward his wife. “My wife. She needs rest. Surely you can offer shelter in your barn. My wife is hungry. Perhaps you can spare a biscuit or two.”

  “You deaf or somethin’?” the man said, taking a step closer, his dog at his heels. “Get outta here. Go and beg somewheres else.”

  White Wolf inhaled deeply to keep from saying things that came swiftly to his mind. He knew that Fort Duncan couldn’t be that faraway. The fort sat on the Rio Grande at Eagle Pass.

  “Come, Violet Eyes,” White Wolf said, wheeling his horse around. “We don’t have far to go until I am sure we will be offered refuge.”

  Dawnmarie hung her head, nodded, and followed him away from the threat of the shotgun and barking dog.

  “I . . . am . . . so weary,” Dawnmarie whispered. She trembled. She felt so weak, so dispirited.

  Back at the campsite, where the carnival people stood in stunned silence around the fire, Kaylene’s black panther strained at his leash.

  The large, muscular beast had watched Kaylene being taken away. He sensed the danger that she was in.

  Midnight strained one last time and he broke his leash and sprang from the campsite into the purple haze of morning.

  Chapter 5

  Open the door of thy heart.

  —BAYARD TAYLOR

  Kaylene was stunned by what had happened to her father. Although she, for the most part, never understood him, and hated that dark side of him that she had seen too often, sometimes even taking a whip to those workers who did not work at the speed he demanded of them, she did not hate him, the person.

  He was her father.

  He had never harmed her in any way, except with mind games; games of control.