The Comanche rode in a wide circle around the frightened, riderless horses and tossed Amy into the arms of a fellow Indian who waited in the ranks. The little girl's indignant screeching filled the air. Loretta lifted the Spencer carbine to her shoulder, leveling the sights on the Comanche as he circled back to her. The bells on his moccasins tinkled merrily with each movement of his horse.
"Let me go!" Amy screamed. "You stinkin' savage."
Loretta glanced toward the child. A young brave struggled to keep Amy atop his pony. He laughed uproariously when she tried to scratch him. The girl caught a handful of his black hair and pulled with all her might.
"
" the boy exclaimed. "She tries to take my scalp."
Whoops of laughter spiraled among the men. Loretta dragged her gaze back to Hunter. He had halted his mount some fifteen feet from her.
"Where will you spend your cartridge?" he asked. "If you love her, shoot her. It is wisdom."
Amy's screaming turned to pitiful sobbing. Loretta's aim wavered, and she glanced toward the other Indians, trying to see her cousin. What was Henry doing? Why didn't he back her up? How long could it take to load a rifle? The miserable coward.
"You have time for one shot," Hunter went on. "If you waste it on me, my friend will take your sister and avenge me. Your father hides behind his wooden walls. You stand alone."
Sweat ran into Loretta's eyes. She turned slightly and leveled the barrel of her gun at Amy. Blinking, she snugged her finger around the trigger. Tears sprang to her eyes as she recalled Amy's queries about blessed release. Not always, Loretta thought. Sometimes it was death by a loved one's hand.
"Think long on this, Yellow Hair," Hunter cautioned. "I came in peace to buy a woman, not steal a child. She is too skinny to bring this Comanche pleasure. You are not." He leaned forward, stretching an arm along his horse's neck, his hand open to her. "Come to me, and I will send your sister back to her mother unharmed."
Loretta stared at him. Did he mean it? His eyes pierced hers. The scar on the side of his face flickered as his jaw muscle tightened. If the tales about him were true, he might spare Amy. On the other hand, he might take them both captive if given half a chance. She remembered how gently he had touched her last night, and her confusion mounted.
"Drop the weapon and come," he urged. "It is a fair trade, no? She goes free. I have spoken it."
In the background, Loretta heard laughter ringing. Already the braves made sport of Amy. The child screeched again.
"You will do this, no? You have courage. It shines in your eyes. If you fight the big fight, you cannot win. It is best to hold the head high and surrender with dignity. Put down the gun.
"Let me go!" Amy screamed. "You stinkin' savage."
Loretta glanced toward the child. A young brave struggled to keep Amy atop his pony. He laughed uproariously when she tried to scratch him. The girl caught a handful of his black hair and pulled with all her might.
"
" the boy exclaimed. "She tries to take my scalp."
Whoops of laughter spiraled among the men. Loretta dragged her gaze back to Hunter. He had halted his mount some fifteen feet from her.
"Where will you spend your cartridge?" he asked. "If you love her, shoot her. It is wisdom."
Amy's screaming turned to pitiful sobbing. Loretta's aim wavered, and she glanced toward the other Indians, trying to see her cousin. What was Henry doing? Why didn't he back her up? How long could it take to load a rifle? The miserable coward.
"You have time for one shot," Hunter went on. "If you waste it on me, my friend will take your sister and avenge me. Your father hides behind his wooden walls. You stand alone."
Sweat ran into Loretta's eyes. She turned slightly and leveled the barrel of her gun at Amy. Blinking, she snugged her finger around the trigger. Tears sprang to her eyes as she recalled Amy's queries about blessed release. Not always, Loretta thought. Sometimes it was death by a loved one's hand.
"Think long on this, Yellow Hair," Hunter cautioned. "I came in peace to buy a woman, not steal a child. She is too skinny to bring this Comanche pleasure. You are not." He leaned forward, stretching an arm along his horse's neck, his hand open to her. "Come to me, and I will send your sister back to her mother unharmed."
Loretta stared at him. Did he mean it? His eyes pierced hers. The scar on the side of his face flickered as his jaw muscle tightened. If the tales about him were true, he might spare Amy. On the other hand, he might take them both captive if given half a chance. She remembered how gently he had touched her last night, and her confusion mounted.
"Drop the weapon and come," he urged. "It is a fair trade, no? She goes free. I have spoken it."
In the background, Loretta heard laughter ringing. Already the braves made sport of Amy. The child screeched again.
"You will do this, no? You have courage. It shines in your eyes. If you fight the big fight, you cannot win. It is best to hold the head high and surrender with dignity. Put down the gun.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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