On the eighth day of Hunter's absence, along toward dusk, Loretta heard a distant yodeling sound and glanced up from Maiden's cooking fire to see men riding in. It wasn't difficult to spot Hunter, several horse lengths ahead of the others, leading what looked like a mule carrying a priest. Loretta rose on her tiptoe, frowning. Surely she couldn't be seeing what she she was seeing. What priest in his right mind would visit a Comanche village?
Glancing around at Maiden's neighbors, Loretta saw her bewilderment mirrored on every face. Then she looked at Warrior, who had been reclining nearby, guarding her. He had leaped to his feet upon hearing the men ride in. He slid a wary glance toward her and cocked an eyebrow. "My brother brings a Black Robe?"
It a priest. Loretta craned her neck to see. Hunter rode directly to the central fire, which had already been lit in preparation for nightfall, and dragged the priest off the mule. After barking a command at the poor man, he spun on his heel and came directly toward Maiden's lodge, his stride purposeful, his jaw clenched in determination. Loretta drew a deep breath. Suddenly, incredulously, she why Hunter had brought a priest into the village.
His footsteps slowed as he drew close, the muscles in his thighs bunching and drawing the leather of his pants taut. Loretta stiffened at the challenge his eyes issued. Lifting her chin, she waited for him to reach her, riveting her gaze on his broad shoulders, resisting the urge to run. Those long, powerful legs of his would easily outdistance her.
"I have brought you a Black Robe," he said tersely, and nodded toward the waiting priest. "He will pray your God words over us, yes?"
With that, Hunter grasped her firmly by the arm and drew her toward the central fire, never breaking stride despite Loretta's attempts to slow him down.
"I won't marry you!" she cried frantically.
He threw her a look charged with martial arrogance. "You will be my wife, little one. My way or yours, in the end, it will be so.
Glancing around at Maiden's neighbors, Loretta saw her bewilderment mirrored on every face. Then she looked at Warrior, who had been reclining nearby, guarding her. He had leaped to his feet upon hearing the men ride in. He slid a wary glance toward her and cocked an eyebrow. "My brother brings a Black Robe?"
It a priest. Loretta craned her neck to see. Hunter rode directly to the central fire, which had already been lit in preparation for nightfall, and dragged the priest off the mule. After barking a command at the poor man, he spun on his heel and came directly toward Maiden's lodge, his stride purposeful, his jaw clenched in determination. Loretta drew a deep breath. Suddenly, incredulously, she why Hunter had brought a priest into the village.
His footsteps slowed as he drew close, the muscles in his thighs bunching and drawing the leather of his pants taut. Loretta stiffened at the challenge his eyes issued. Lifting her chin, she waited for him to reach her, riveting her gaze on his broad shoulders, resisting the urge to run. Those long, powerful legs of his would easily outdistance her.
"I have brought you a Black Robe," he said tersely, and nodded toward the waiting priest. "He will pray your God words over us, yes?"
With that, Hunter grasped her firmly by the arm and drew her toward the central fire, never breaking stride despite Loretta's attempts to slow him down.
"I won't marry you!" she cried frantically.
He threw her a look charged with martial arrogance. "You will be my wife, little one. My way or yours, in the end, it will be so.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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