"Do you think she can find her way back to your lodge?" Rising Wolf asked.
"Not at night. There's too much sameness. I'd say we check Spirit Eagle's lodge first."
"That sure?"
"He's gone, isn't he?"
"Maybe he joined the dancers," Rising Wolf hopefully suggested.
"My roan against your sorrel says he didn't." Hazard's terse voice was as sure as Rising Wolfs was uncertain. He was already twenty yards away and sprinting when Rising Wolf shouted, "Only if you give me odds," and charged after him.
knew she was lost almost immediately. She'd run into the darkness with no destination in mind, only a driving need to escape the lurid spectacle of Hazard and that woman. After racing blindly between rows of lodges, she stopped, panting, and glanced around. Nothing looked familiar. Only row upon row of deserted tepees, all their inhabitants participating in the dances and merrymaking down by the river.
How would she ever find her way back to Hazard's lodge? Not that it mattered anyway, she testily decided. He'd probably be too busy for the next few hours with the little beauty he was eating up in front of hundreds of interested spectators. It would serve him right if she didn't go back there tonight. And she wondered for a moment, turning slowly around in an attempt to get her bearings, whether she'd be able to find the willow bower near the river. That would make a comfortable bed.
The valley basin was mainly flat, so it was hard to know which direction to take, but the blaze of fires at the dance area at least indicated the general direction of the river. Turning toward the lighted glow in the sky, she intended to skirt the dancers and hopefully find the willows. With Hazard as guide, she'd never paid much attention to directions, and he'd always carried her. Those memories only rekindled the flames of her temper. Damn his libertine soul; all the stories in Virginia City were true. He'd never turned down a woman in his life. And she, it seemed, had as little sense as the rest, no more immune to his soft endearments and sensual expertise than any of the others.
Anger at herself, at him, at the hussy kissing him, along with nascent urges for vengeance, all tumbled around in her mind in confusion. Inhaling a deep breath of clear night air to steady the tumble and dull the rancor, Blaze determined to first find the bower. A night alone would give her the opportunity to decide what she wanted to do regarding Jon Hazard Black and his abominable predisposition for females of every persuasion.
She'd taken no more than five steps in the direction of the bonfires when a young warrior, richly dressed, his long hair gleaming in the moonlight, walked toward her. He smiled and held out his hand, making the sign for friendship. Blaze didn't recognize the word in hand sign, but she understood the message. She smiled back, and Spirit Eagle thought Hazard a foolish man for letting her out of his sight. He spoke softly in Absarokee, telling her she was beautiful.
Blaze shook her head, indicating she didn't understand, but when he held his hand out again, an idea was born on her rankling resentment. Why not dance with this beautiful young warrior? If Hazard, however reluctant he pretended to be, could dance and kiss the pretty young women, why couldn't she kiss the handsome young men? After all, that's what the dance taking place down by the river was all about. Everyone was having a good time. Why let futile rage and envy ruin a pleasant evening? She'd simply follow his example and participate in the crush of sweethearts enjoying themselves under the mountain stars.
Blaze placed her fingers in the hand extended to her and returned his smile. "Dance," she said, swaying in pantomime. Spirit Eagle's arousal ignited and he pulled her closer. "No," Blaze softly retorted, tugging back a little. "Dance… down by the river. Dance." And she made a small gliding motion.
"Ah," Spirit Eagle responded, smiling. "Disek," and he moved gracefully in a repetition of Blaze's step.
"Yes, yes… dance," Blaze agreed, anger at Hazard urging her on. "Let's go down to the river and dance." She pointed in the direction of the fires.
"Hü kawe," he said, and Blaze recognized the word for "come." His fingers laced more comfortably in hers, and when he gently drew her, she followed. As they walked through the camp, she cast small sidelong glances at him. He was younger than Hazard, but he carried his lithe body with the sureness of a proven warrior. His hair was long, much longer than Hazard's, and when he turned and smiled at her, she decided the Absarokee men deserved their reputation for physical perfection. He was starkly handsome.
They walked in silence down several empty avenues, only an occasional dog lazily noting their progress. Spirit Eagle turned to smile at her frequently, and Blaze smiled back in a friendly exchange without words. She was relishing the opportunity to pay Hazard back with a flirtation of her own, and this splendid young man was pleasant, friendly, and very accommodating.
It wasn't until they'd walked some distance that Blaze noticed they seemed to be moving away from the luminous radiance of the bonfires in the night sky. She stopped abruptly and Spirit Eagle's grasp tightened on hers. "The dance is back there," she said, turning a half-step and gesturing with her free hand.
He didn't seem to understand. "Hu kawe, bia," he quietly replied and began walking again, tugging Blaze along.
Her stomach pitched nervously, for she'd recognized the entirety of that short phrase—"Come, sweetheart." Why was he calling her sweetheart? Was it an innocuous form of address or something more personal? Suddenly she felt very much alone in the deserted camp. And unsure. Maybe this friendly walk and polite smiles were less innocent than they appeared.
Damnation, she thought pettishly, I'm not going to docilely allow myself to be led away in the wrong direction. "Stop!" she unceremoniously demanded and suited her actions to her words. She might as well have tried to stop a force of nature. Spirit Eagle didn't even break stride; his grip only hardened and he pulled her along effortlessly.
"Just a damn minute!" she shouted and struck at him with a clenched fist. It was like hitting a solid wall.
He paused then for a moment and looking down at her said, "De-yea-x-wah-saw-weeh-ma [I won't hurt you]. Be-le-she-chila-lema [You'll like me]." He was so sure of himself, and any number of women he'd pleasured would uphold his assertion. Reaching out, he trailed his fingertips down the slender grace of her throat. When she sharply thrust his hand away, he laughed and murmured something so low the words were only a husky murmur, but the message in his eyes was unmistakable. "Come," he repeated, and resumed walking.
No longer cooperative, Blaze dug in her heels, but it hardly slowed him, save for the tiny furrows left by her moccasin heels in the grass. They traversed another fifty yards in this fashion, with Blaze verbally threatening and denouncing and Spirit Eagle appearing not to notice. He stopped at last in front of a lodge and leaned forward slightly to lift the entrance flap aside.
Taking the small opportunity of his distraction, Blaze twisted sharply, slid her fingers free, and with adrenaline-induced speed, ran. Although fleet, she soon heard him behind her; first his footfalls and, as he gained on her, his unhurried breathing. Her own respiration was forced after two hundred yards of all-out flight, and as she drew in a labored breath, she found herself swung off her feet from behind and lifted into strong arms.
She began struggling, pushing at his solid chest, pounding on his shoulders, kicking the air with her feet, but he only chuckled, tightening his grip, and whispered some of the words she'd heard Hazard whisper to her when they were making love. He murmured them softly, soothingly, as one might to a recalcitrant child, and at the last, the words held a question.
He was bending his head to kiss her. Had he asked her to kiss him? Held high in his arms, her eyes large with shock and fear, she could see his mouth only inches away.
Suddenly into her field of vision Blaze sighted Hazard turning a corner of the avenue in a flat-out run. Automatically fear vanished, but jealousy reminded her that Hazard deserved some payment for that long, long kiss with the girl in the dance. Spirit Eagle's back was to Hazard and he was still unaware of his approach when Blaze glimpsed Rising Wolf clear the same corner in a sprint. She was smiling faintly when she lifted her lips to accept Spirit Eagle's kiss.
Sweet revenge, now that rescue was near.
Hazard hadn't seen Blaze's resistance.
He hadn't heard any of the verbal defiance.
He hadn't seen her run away or kick and struggle.
He only saw her held in Spirit Eagle's embrace, only saw her kissing him. And jealous rage exploded in his mind.
"Enjoying yourself?" he drawled in English, walking the last few yards, controlling his urge to strike out.
Spirit Eagle spun around.
"Let her go," Hazard coldly ordered, the Absarokee unnaturally harsh.
"Maybe she wants to stay." Spirit Eagle's challenge was flagrant.
"Do you want to stay?" Hazard coolly asked, reverting to English, and even in her own anger Blaze didn't dare respond in the affirmative to that tone. Hazard's eyes were too remote.
She shook her head.
"There," Hazard said, impassively. "Now let her go-"
Spirit Eagle loosened his grasp and Blaze slid to the ground.
"Take her back to the lodge," Hazard instructed Rising Wolf, who'd arrived directly behind Hazard.
"Just a minute," Blaze objected. "I won't be sent off like—like—"
Hazard looked at her disdainfully. "Like some misbehaving trollop?" he finished, his smile unpleasant.
"Don't talk to me about misbehaving," Blaze hotly retorted, taking a threatening step toward him. "Did you tire of the games of the dance?"
Hazard grimaced. "We can talk about that later," he said, not inclined to conduct any grand-scale verbal battle in front of Rising Wolf and Spirit Eagle.
"Oh… later. I see, Your Highness, I'm to be dismissed then?"
"That's the general idea," Hazard softly replied.
"And what if I don't care to be dismissed by every woman's dream lover," she archly retorted, her tone acidly sweet. "That young girl down at the dance's lover, Little Moon's lover, Lucy Attenborough's lover," her voice was rising as the list grew. "Elizabeth Motley's lover, Fanny—"
"Shut her up and take her away," Hazard snapped.
And in the next instant, midway through the next woman's name in the lengthy list, Blaze was swept off the ground. "Sorry," Rising Wolf apologized, placing his hand over her mouth, leaving her speechless for most of the distance back to Hazard's lodge.
SPIRIT Eagle was smirking. "Maybe you'd like me to take her off your hands."
"Maybe I wouldn't."
"Does the great chief Dit-chilajash allow himself to be ruled by a yellow eyes woman?" His tone was insulting.
Hazard ignored the insult. "I'm warning you off, Spirit Eagle. Don't touch her again. Don't talk to her. Don't go near her."
"We could fight for the yellow eyes," Spirit Eagle challenged, anxious for an opportunity to publicly triumph over Hazard.
"You know better than that. I don't fight over women." Hazard's tone was final in its clarity. Was it necessary to explain age-old tradition?
"Coward?"
It was startlingly rude, but Hazard remembered the impertinence of youth and only served verbal warning. "You'd die finding out."
"Pussy-whipped, then!"
Hazard shrugged to indicate the unimportance of Spirit Eagle's remark. "Just stay away from my woman. This is a one-time warning. You won't get a second chance."
"It discredits a man to show such favor for a woman. You're becoming like a yellow eyes. You shame yourself with such weakness. To crave a woman is to fall short as a warrior."
The young pup was frank enough, Hazard thought ruefully, but he was past the age himself when youthful dogmatism narrowed his understanding of men. He carefully explained, "I understand your challenge, Spirit Eagle. All those in the past and now this one. It's the path of a warrior to seek glory and leadership. I understand all that impels you." Hazard's voice was patient. "I even understand," he went on thoughtfully, "you wanting her. And I was raised in the same ways you were," he said as a father would to a rebellious son, "so you needn't talk to me of shame and dishonor. You needn't remind me of the different motives that rule men's and women's lives. But this is different, and that's why I'm warning you. I'll do as I please about her." Hazard's tone was sharp now and cutting in its plainness. "Don't cross me on this or I'll—" He closed his eyes briefly, unsure himself how far he'd go in his need for her. When he reopened them, they were bleak and cold. "Just don't," he finished.