182
" If you hunger, we will have nuts and fruit, eh?”
Loretta swallowed a lump of air. Fruit and nuts were better than the alternative. Maybe, if she ate one nut at a time…“All right, fruit and nuts.”
He spread a buffalo robe beside the fire while she put the pot away and dug up a parfleche of fruit and nuts from his store of preserved edibles. Kneeling beside him, Loretta munched industriously, staring into the leaping flames, aware with every bite she took that Hunter watched her. When she reached for her fourth handful, he clamped his long fingers around her wrist.
“Enough,” he said evenly. “You will sicken your gut if you eat more.”
Loretta’s gut was already in sorry shape. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
183
" Watching him, she was, for the first time in her life, appreciative of the male form, the smooth play of muscle in motion, the subtle grace in strength. Lean tendons roped his buttocks and thighs. When he turned slightly she glimpsed his manhood, jutting forth, hard and proud from a mahogany nest of short curly hair. Her throat tightened, and deep within her there welled feelings she could scarcely credit, longing, tenderness, delicious excitement--and fierce pride. That such a man loved her and wanted her was nothing short of incredible. He could have had any girl in the village, someone supple and dark with liquid brown eyes, a dozen such someones if he chose, but instead he had picked her, a skinny, pallid farm girl.
Cinching the drawstring of his pants, he tied a quick bowknot and extended a hand to her. For an instant Loretta was swept back in time to that first afternoon, when he had commanded she place her palm across his. She had been so terrified then, but no longer. His arm was her shield, just as he had promised. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
184
" What’sa matter? You afraid I’ll get too friendly if I find out you’ve been pleasurin’ Comanches?”
Struggling to stay calm, she said, “You’re a smart man. I heard you and your men talking. You were hired to rescue captives, not abuse them. Touch one of us, and it’ll be the mistake of your life. We haven’t been pleasuring anyone. And if we end up pleasuring you, I guarantee you’ll hang for it.”
He didn’t bluff easily. Running his fingers under the string of rawhide that encircled her neck, he lifted Hunter’s medallion from under her blouse and studied the carved stone. “Appears to me like you hooked up with a chief, honey.” He smiled and returned the medallion to its former resting place, trailing his fingers under her blouse, his eyes holding hers. Her skin crawled where his grimy knuckles touched. “A Comanche don’t wear a wolf sign unless he’s somebody important. The wolf is sacred to ’em, their brother. No woman would have a medallion like that unless her man marked her with it.”
“No filthy Injun has put his hands on me,” Loretta retorted. The words ached in her throat, making her feel disloyal to Hunter. What if he was out there, hiding, listening? “One of the warriors put the medallion on me before he left on a hunting trip. Since it seemed to prevent the others from touching me or my little cousin, I continued to wear it.”
He grinned and rocked back on his heels. “Where you from?”
“A farm along the Brazos.”
“Fort Belknap anyplace close?”
“Within a few hours’ ride.” Loretta sat up and glanced over her shoulder, praying Amy was all right. “Is that where you’ll take us?”
“I reckon so. Unless somethin’ happens to you along the trail. That’d be a shame, wouldn’t it? But then, dead women, they don’t tell stories.”
“Neither do they bring reward money. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
186
" This is why you come? To ask this favor?”
“Please, Hunter, don’t say no. I’ll do anything, anything you ask.”
All trace of warmth left his eyes.
Loretta stared up at him. She had come so far. She couldn’t bear it if he said no. Amy was out there. “Please, Hunter, I’ll do anything.”
He said nothing, just studied her, his expression stony.
Exhaustion and defeat sent Loretta to her knees. Still clinging to his hand, she bowed her head. “Please, Hunter, please, I wouldn’t ask if I had anyone else to turn to. I thought you were my friend.”
Hunter studied her blond hair, braided and coiled like a snake around her crown, long curls escaping the combs to trail halfway down her back. He had walked to meet her believing she had returned to him. Now he realized she had come only to ask his aid, that she had no intention of remaining beside him. He felt like a foolish young boy, humiliated and angry. But not so angry that he wanted her on her knees.
It was the first time he had seen her surrender her pride. By that alone he knew how deeply she loved the child that had been lost to her. I thought you were my friend. The words cut deep. Perhaps he should feel honored. She had traveled a great distance into his land, trusting him with her life and with the life of the child she loved.
“Stand, Blue Eyes,” he told her gently.
She tipped her head back. Tears shimmered on her cheeks. “I’ll do anything, Hunter. I’ll serve you on my knees. I’ll be your loyal slave forever. I’ll kiss the ground you walk on, anything.”
He disengaged his hand from hers and grasped her shoulders, hauling her to her feet. “I want you in my buffalo robes, not making kisses in the dirt. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
189
" Oh, Hunter, I’m sorry,” she said on the crest of a sob. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You rip my heart out and it should not hurt?” His teeth closed on her earlobe, nipping lightly, sending shivers over her skin. “You spit upon all that I am, and it should not hurt? You abandon me, you dishonor me, and it should not hurt?”
The raw emotion in his voice brought tears to her eyes. “I never intended to dishonor you…”
Loretta longed to put her arms around him but was quickly reminded of her bonds when she tried. His mouth claimed hers, hot and demanding, yet strangely gentle.
What followed was beautiful. Unable to remain passive, Loretta responded to him with a spiraling passion that both shocked and disoriented her. At some point Hunter cut the leather on her wrists and ankles, but she was too mindless to realize. He was like a fire inside her, embers licked to low flames, building quickly to an inferno. There was no fear. And no pain. Just a bittersweet joining, becoming one in a way she had never dreamed possible.
Afterward Hunter drew her gently into his arms and reminded her of the promises he had made her, that she would never experience brutality or shame in his arms, only love. “How can you not hear the song my heart sings, Blue Eyes?”
Loretta knew he was referring to far more than his lovemaking. Sobs built pressure in her chest, then crawled up her throat, gaining force until they tore from her, dry and ragged. “Oh, Hunter, you have to understand. You think only of yourself and your rights. What of mine?”
Hunter drew her head back down to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. Her warm tears fell on his skin and trickled, cold and wet, under his arm. He closed his eyes, his mind replaying her words, the whispers a torment, the questions unanswerable. Did he think only of himself? Yes. To do otherwise meant losing her. Long after his wife fell into an exhausted sleep, he lay awake, staring into the darkness, searching within himself for a solution.
There was none… "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
190
" Please, Hunter, please, I wouldn’t ask if I had anyone else to turn to. I thought you were my friend.”
Hunter studied her blond hair, braided and coiled like a snake around her crown, long curls escaping the combs to trail halfway down her back. He had walked to meet her believing she had returned to him. Now he realized she had come only to ask his aid, that she had no intention of remaining beside him. He felt like a foolish young boy, humiliated and angry. But not so angry that he wanted her on her knees.
It was the first time he had seen her surrender her pride. By that alone he knew how deeply she loved the child that had been lost to her. I thought you were my friend. The words cut deep. Perhaps he should feel honored. She had traveled a great distance into his land, trusting him with her life and with the life of the child she loved.
“Stand, Blue Eyes,” he told her gently.
She tipped her head back. Tears shimmered on her cheeks. “I’ll do anything, Hunter. I’ll serve you on my knees. I’ll be your loyal slave forever. I’ll kiss the ground you walk on, anything.”
He disengaged his hand from hers and grasped her shoulders, hauling her to her feet. “I want you in my buffalo robes, not making kisses in the dirt.”
Her eyes darkened. “I’ll do anything.”
Hunter was about to tell her he would find Amy, that she need not beg, but her last words stopped him. He was not a stupid man. He searched her pale face.
“I’ll be your woman. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I’ll stay with you. Freely. If you’ll find Amy and bring her back to me. I promise, Hunter.”
Her desperation made him feel ashamed. She had come to him for help; he couldn’t turn her away. He needed no reward for finding her sister. Yet he wanted this woman. And she was here, offering herself to him. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
192
" I will go wherever the Great Ones lead me,” Hunter whispered. “You know I will. It’s just that I can’t see the path they want me to follow. There is no one to lead me.”
“The path will be there. When you turn your face westward you will know, deep within, where to place your feet.” Warrior’s voice rang with certainty. “I would ask one thing of you, tah-mah. Ride beside me one last time into battle. It will be our final memory of each other, yes?”
Once again Hunter remembered looking into that white man’s blue eyes. The battles shall stretch before him with no horizon. When would it ever end? But his brother had made this request of him. “I will ride with you,” Hunter whispered. “One last time.”
Straightening his pallet, Warrior stretched out on his back, so close his arm brushed Hunter’s. After a long while he said, “You will tell your sons and daughters about me, yes?”
Hunter wished he could weep, but the tears were dammed behind his lids, aching and burning. “Yes. And you will tell yours of me?”
“I will tell them.” Warrior’s voice cracked. “Of you and your golden one and the song that led you west. Love her well, tah-mah. The days together are brief.”
“Yes.” Hunter knew Warrior was thinking of Maiden of the Tall Grass. In a husky voice, he added, “Far too brief. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
194
" Stand, Blue Eyes,” he told her gently.
She tipped her head back. Tears shimmered on her cheeks. “I’ll do anything, Hunter. I’ll serve you on my knees. I’ll be your loyal slave forever. I’ll kiss the ground you walk on, anything.”
He disengaged his hand from hers and grasped her shoulders, hauling her to her feet. “I want you in my buffalo robes, not making kisses in the dirt.”
Her eyes darkened. “I’ll do anything.”
Hunter was about to tell her he would find Amy, that she need not beg, but her last words stopped him. He was not a stupid man. He searched her pale face.
“I’ll be your woman. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I’ll stay with you. Freely. If you’ll find Amy and bring her back to me. I promise, Hunter.”
Her desperation made him feel ashamed. She had come to him for help; he couldn’t turn her away. He needed no reward for finding her sister. Yet he wanted this woman. And she was here, offering herself to him. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
196
" You got no choice, girl. Don’t think ya do. He’s not treatin’ ya too bad right now, but as God is my witness, he will. Just pray you go before they start in on ya.” He swallowed again. “I don’t know why he’s held off. Maybe he’s takin’ you back to his village for some kinda ceremony or somethin’--to his squaws. Or maybe he just fancies a wife with golden hair. Either way, believe me when I say dyin’ of thirst will be kinder.”
Loretta hugged herself. She understood. She understood all too well.
Moments later Hunter came back and jerked the furs out from under Tom’s legs. With his usual arrogance, he motioned for Loretta to follow him and walked away into the shadows at the far side of the fire. A flush stole up her neck as she rose to go with him. Tom was watching. That made her sleeping with the Comanche seem all the more shameful. She didn’t dare balk, though. Tom might pay with his life.
Hunter spread the pallet and motioned for her to lie next to him. Keeping her back to him, she stretched out on the fur, putting as much distance between them as the pallet allowed. She felt him wrapping a length of her hair around his wrist and intertwining it in his fingers. She prayed he wouldn’t touch her--not in front of Tom.
There was no God in heaven. A heartbeat later, Hunter’s steely arm encircled her waist, and his large hand splayed beneath her breasts. The fur abraded her sunburned thigh as he slid her toward him, but that sting was nothing compared to the degradation. What would Tom think? Loretta knew well what he’d think, and she couldn’t blame him. But what choice did she have? "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
197
" We walk backward in our footsteps, eh? Maybe you will walk forward a new way when we reach your wooden walls. You could be a little bit happy as my woman, no?”
Loretta fixed her eyes on the horizon ahead of them. They were only a day and a half’s ride from her home. A day and a half from real clothes, a chance to wash her hair, to eat her own kind of food. Yes, he had been kind to her. As reluctant as she was to admit it, she’d even come to like him a little. But not enough to belong to him. Never that.
“To be happy, I must be at my wooden walls,” she said shakily. “That’s my home and where my people are.”
There was only tonight and tomorrow night to get through, and then she’d be home. Suvate. It was almost finished. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
198
" Come here, little one.”
“I want to go back.”
He hoped she stood there arguing for a time. “Obey your husband.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s broad daylight.”
“Keemah, come.”
Growing tired of just looking when he could be touching, Hunter cocked his head and let her see him leering. He was awarded a fetching glimpse of slender, creamy thighs and honey gold. She gasped and dropped to her knees as if someone had dealt a blow to the backs of her legs.
Tucking her skirt under her knees, she cried, “Have you no shame?”
His answer was a slow grin. Seizing her wrist, he drew her toward him. “There is no shame. You are my woman.”
Pulled off balance, she fell across his chest. Squirming, but halfheartedly, she said, “There’s a time and a place for everything, and this isn’t it.”
“No?” He ran a hand under her blouse. “I say it is a very good time. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
200
" Someone must preserve the ways of the People,” Warrior rasped, “someone who will sing our songs and teach our ways. Unless you do that, all that we are will be lost. You must go get your woman and take her far away into the west lands where this war does not reach.” Warrior’s voice shook with emotion. “To a new place, Hunter. You know the words of the song.”
“Warrior, you make it sound so simple. You saw what happened near her home today. She will spit upon me when she sees me.” Hunter angled an arm over his eyes. “I left her and rode into battle against her people. How many have we killed since the attack on our village?”
“She won’t turn from you.”
“How can you know? You say I should fulfill the last part of the song? How? Where is the high place the Great Ones spoke of? Where is the canyon filled with blood? And how will I ever reach across so great a distance to take Loh-rhett-ah’s hand?”
“You must have faith. The high place will be there, as will the great canyon.” Leaning forward, Warrior clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Courage, tah-mah. Have courage. "
― Catherine Anderson , Comanche Moon (Comanche, #1)
