Dakota Dream Read Free Page B

his eyes and worked at forcing sleep, but still his mind refused to rest. Still he saw those golden curls bouncing down the woman's naked back, felt his fingers swim through waves of hair the color of maize at sunset, and he recalled the sweet scent of lilacs that seemed to drift up from her soft skin. Something about her—was it those defiant brown eyes coupled with the stubborn set of her chin even as it trembled with fear, or perhaps the way her lithe body twisted and writhed beneath him, or all of those things? Whatever the cause, sudden flames licked at the depths of loins he'd thought were sated.
    Groaning his newest frustration into the buffalo robe, Redfoot knew he must make a decision. The crazy woman could prove to be a costly, if not deadly, distraction. But she was his gift, his responsibility. What was he to do with her? He considered offering her to one of the other warriors, but then he recalled the surprise and innocence in her eyes when he caught her gawking at him as he dressed. This one remained a maiden. Who but himself would have any consideration for her white flesh? None, came the answer. The others would tear and ravage the crazy woman's tender body with no thought to her discomfort or pleasure. What to do?
     
    After a few hours of restless sleep, he awakened well before dawn, his decision made. The Hunkpapa, along with the six other council fires in the Lakota nation, were finally ready to send him back to his own kind on a mission that could bring great rewards—or an end—to the Lakota nation. This gift, this sharp-tongued woman, was an amusement he could not take the time to enjoy, much less groom in the way of the Lakota.
    Redfoot dressed quickly, knowing he must be rid of her while the sun still slept. If the dawn's light touched his features and the woman was still his captive, he would have to kill her to ensure his identity would remain secret. Working even faster, he helped himself to a few articles of Spotted Feather's clothing, and then hurried out into the night and back toward his own tipi.
    As he approached the entrance, he made a decision as to which direction to ride. He'd been very close to the town of Bismarck when he found her. His task that morning had been to study the perimeters of the fort, to establish meeting sites for himself and the first in a series of messengers who would take information back to the Hunkpapa camp. But he'd wandered too far north, much too close to the town and its citizens. Again doubts plagued him. Had he been drawn to Bismarck by some forgotten link to the past or had he simply strayed off course?
    Redfoot forced his thoughts to yesterday, to the boat and its occupants just before it lunged out of control and began tossing its cargo into the icy waters of the Missouri. All had been dressed in the clothing of farmers and townsfolk. None wore the uniform of the Long Knives. Armed with this logic, he decided the woman belonged to the town and not to the soldiers. He could safely leave her near the fort and one of the general's eager soldiers could escort her back to Bismarck. Redfoot could not take a chance of approaching the town again. Satisfied with the new plan, he paused as he reached his tipi, then lowered his head to duck inside.
    Coiled in the corner behind the entrance flap of the tipi, Dominique tensed in anticipation as she heard footfalls growing louder and closer. When a large figure stepped past her, she leapt from her hiding spot and sprang onto his back.
    " Ayeee ," Redfoot cried as he spun in a circle, raising his arms and grasping at her loose curls.
    Dominique clawed at the front of his buckskin shirt, but her fingernails glanced off the rows of porcupine quills sewn there. Panic drove her to wrap her arms around his neck and try to squeeze the life from his body. But she was too weak to do anything but hang on.
    Redfoot caught her wrist and jerked her off his back. He held her for a moment, then flipped her to the ground as if she