Shawnee Bride Read Free Page B

persisted. “He was an evil man, and his death was no loss. Show me what a true savage you’ve become!”
    Her sarcasm cut as no blade could. Wolf Heart, who had never killed a white man before, let alone taken a white scalp, bit back the urge to seize her shoulders in his hands and shake her until she whimpered for forgiveness.
    “Well?” she demanded, her eyes flinging a challenge.
    Freezing all emotion, he caught her elbow, spun her away from him and shoved her to a reluctant walk.
    Clarissa stumbled along the forest trail, feeling more dead than alive. Her blistered, bleeding feet were beyondpain. Her stomach was a clenched knot of hunger and fear. Only anger kept her moving-that, and her resolve to make this self-proclaimed Shawnee pay dearly for having taken her prisoner.
    “It’s a lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?” She tossed her hair, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her complain.
    Wolf Heart’s only reply was brooding silence.
    “I’ve always wanted to explore the wilderness,” she persisted with mock pleasantry. “And what a splendid guide I have! A man who knows every bird, every tree-”
    “That’s enough!” His voice, behind her, was a low growl of irritation. “Keep that up, and every ear within a day’s run will be able to hear you!”
    “Oh, how nice!” She forced her miserable feet to a lilting skip and began to sing. “‘In Scarlet Town where I was born/ There lived a fair maid dwellin’/ Made every lad cry well a-day/ Her name was Barbara-’’’
    “Stop it!” he snapped, his massive hand catching her arm and whipping her around to face him. “Do you want me to gag your mouth, tie your legs and drag you along the trail?”
    Clarissa gulped back her fear, forcing herself to meet his blazing blue eyes. “Well, at least that might save some wear on my poor blistered feet!” she declared saucily. “Yes, indeed, why don’t you try it?”
    He shot her a thunderous scowl. Then the breath eased wearily out of him, and Clarissa knew she had won a victory, however small. “Sit,” he ordered her gruffly.
    “There?” She glanced toward a toadstool-encrusted log.
    “Sit anywhere. I don’t care. Just keep your mouth shutwhile I tend to your feet. We still have a lot of walking to do.”
    “How much walking?” Clarissa sank on to the log, exhausted to the point of collapse but determined not to show it. “Where are you taking me?”
    “To the place where I left my canoe.” He crouched on one bent knee, his heavy black brows meeting in a scowl as he lifted and examined the bruised, blistered sole of her foot.
    “And from there?”
    “To my village, far down the river.”
    “And what will become of me then?” Clarissa’s voice dropped to a choked whisper as the gravity of her situation sank home. This was no game, no idle contest of wit and will. This was a battle for her life.
    He was bent low, his craggy features compressed into a frown as his fingers picked away the thorns and tiny rocks that had embedded themselves in her tender flesh.
    “You didn’t answer me,” she said, feigning boldness. “What will happen when we reach your village?”
    “You will be brought before the council,” he said slowly, his eyes on his task. “And you will be tried.”
    “Tried?” Clarissa’s body gave an involuntary jerk. “Tried for what?”
    He glanced up at her, his eyes the icy blue of a frozen lake in winter. “To see if you are worthy,” he answered.
    “Worthy?” Clarissa could feel her heart fluttering like a trapped bird inside her rib cage.
    “Yes,” he answered in a low voice. “Worthy to live.”

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Chapter Eight
    A s he followed Clarissa down the hill, Wolf Heart cursed the betraying response of his own body. This was not what he’d had in mind when he’d resolved to teach Clarissa to swim. Quite the opposite—he’d only