You will lie on your back? No harm, eh? I will watch."
"Must you?"
"
" Loretta had no inkling what that meant. "Must you watch? It makes me nervous. I can't run away."
"Nuhr-vus?"
"Nervous." She shrugged one shoulder and then tried to pry his leathery fingers from around her ankle. "Nervous…uneasy." She gave her leg a shake. His hand moved with her foot, his grip unbreakable. "Would you let go? It's indecent, you touching me like this."
"In-dee-sent?"
"Indecent. Shameful. Would you let go? It is my foot, you know."
"And you are my woman."
She threw her head back and sighed. He had a grip like an iron vise and outweighed her by a good ninety pounds, every ounce muscle. For a moment she had lost sight of that and let him lull her into a false sense of security.
He pulled on her leg and slid her toward him until she lay on her back. Then he released her ankle to loom over her, planting a hand on each side of her. Loretta stared up at his dark face, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
After struggling with him so many times, she knew how easily he could pin her beneath his weight, how quickly he could capture her hands and render her helpless. The gleam of lust in his eyes terrified her. What was to stop him from taking her? If she screamed, no one would intervene. Where were his mother and her spoon when she needed them?
"You will sleep." The low timbre of his voice vibrated through her. "I will watch."
With that, he left her and sat on his pallet. She heard a rapping sound and glanced over to find that he was chipping flint with a bone punch. On closer inspection she saw two flint arrowheads lying next to him--arrowheads that he would one day use to kill white people, no doubt. She huddled on her side and stared at him. Even from across the lodge he intimidated her. Yet she was completely dependent upon him. She would never relax enough to sleep with him sitting there.
"Must you?"
"
" Loretta had no inkling what that meant. "Must you watch? It makes me nervous. I can't run away."
"Nuhr-vus?"
"Nervous." She shrugged one shoulder and then tried to pry his leathery fingers from around her ankle. "Nervous…uneasy." She gave her leg a shake. His hand moved with her foot, his grip unbreakable. "Would you let go? It's indecent, you touching me like this."
"In-dee-sent?"
"Indecent. Shameful. Would you let go? It is my foot, you know."
"And you are my woman."
She threw her head back and sighed. He had a grip like an iron vise and outweighed her by a good ninety pounds, every ounce muscle. For a moment she had lost sight of that and let him lull her into a false sense of security.
He pulled on her leg and slid her toward him until she lay on her back. Then he released her ankle to loom over her, planting a hand on each side of her. Loretta stared up at his dark face, her heart pounding, her mouth dry.
After struggling with him so many times, she knew how easily he could pin her beneath his weight, how quickly he could capture her hands and render her helpless. The gleam of lust in his eyes terrified her. What was to stop him from taking her? If she screamed, no one would intervene. Where were his mother and her spoon when she needed them?
"You will sleep." The low timbre of his voice vibrated through her. "I will watch."
With that, he left her and sat on his pallet. She heard a rapping sound and glanced over to find that he was chipping flint with a bone punch. On closer inspection she saw two flint arrowheads lying next to him--arrowheads that he would one day use to kill white people, no doubt. She huddled on her side and stared at him. Even from across the lodge he intimidated her. Yet she was completely dependent upon him. She would never relax enough to sleep with him sitting there.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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