My mother, Woman with Many Robes, asks if you want to eat?"
Loretta gave an emphatic shake of her head, pressing closer to his chest. In a toss-up, she chose to stay with Hunter. He leaned forward so he could look into her eyes. "You will not be afraid. My mother will crack heads. Your good friend, eh? You will trust."
Loretta scanned the wall of leather-clad bodies and, for the first time, hugged her captor's arm more closely around her. The dark depths of his eyes shifted, warming on hers. A ghost of a smile flitted across his harsh mouth, and his fingertips tightened their hold on her ribs. Looking up, he said something in Comanche.
The woman nodded and turned to shoo the onlookers out of the way, her spoon tapping a hollow tattoo on slow-moving heads. Hunter chuckled, his chest vibrating against Loretta's shoulder blades as he steered the mare along the path his mother cleared. The crowd formed walls on each side of them, hanging back only when Hunter drew up before a lodge. When he began to dismount, Loretta clutched his wrist, terrified he might abandon her.
"
" a small girl cried, dancing around the mare's legs, her button eyes gleaming, her plump brown bottom jiggling so hard that she was about to lose her breechcloth. "
"
Hunter pried Loretta's frantic fingers from his arm and slid off the horse. Smiling at the child, he leaned over and retied her breechcloth thong. "
, yes." Glancing up at Loretta, he said, "She is a yellow-hair, and she is mine.
Loretta gave an emphatic shake of her head, pressing closer to his chest. In a toss-up, she chose to stay with Hunter. He leaned forward so he could look into her eyes. "You will not be afraid. My mother will crack heads. Your good friend, eh? You will trust."
Loretta scanned the wall of leather-clad bodies and, for the first time, hugged her captor's arm more closely around her. The dark depths of his eyes shifted, warming on hers. A ghost of a smile flitted across his harsh mouth, and his fingertips tightened their hold on her ribs. Looking up, he said something in Comanche.
The woman nodded and turned to shoo the onlookers out of the way, her spoon tapping a hollow tattoo on slow-moving heads. Hunter chuckled, his chest vibrating against Loretta's shoulder blades as he steered the mare along the path his mother cleared. The crowd formed walls on each side of them, hanging back only when Hunter drew up before a lodge. When he began to dismount, Loretta clutched his wrist, terrified he might abandon her.
"
" a small girl cried, dancing around the mare's legs, her button eyes gleaming, her plump brown bottom jiggling so hard that she was about to lose her breechcloth. "
"
Hunter pried Loretta's frantic fingers from his arm and slid off the horse. Smiling at the child, he leaned over and retied her breechcloth thong. "
, yes." Glancing up at Loretta, he said, "She is a yellow-hair, and she is mine.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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