Wind Rider Read Free Page B

Harley?”
    “He’s the man to whom I’m indentured. By law I’m required to work for him for seven years.”
    Still groggy from pain, Wind Rider couldn’t comprehend the need for someone to sell her self into bondage. Did white society have other laws equally as repugnant? he wondered dully. “The Cheyenne do not sell themselves,” he said, sending her a glance that spoke eloquently of his contempt for someone who would do such a thing. “Have white eyes no pride?”
    Hannah bristled angrily, her eyes flashing green fire. “I did what I had to do to survive; you have no right to judge me. You, a savage, who raids, kills, and rapes innocent people, have no right to condemn others. As long as Indians roam the plains, no decent folk are safe.”
    “We do what we must to survive,” Wind Rid er said, throwing her words back at her. His silver eyes turned icy with hostility. “Have you not heard of Sand Creek, where hundreds of innocent women and children were killed by white soldiers?”
    Hannah nodded; she had been aware of the gossip but wasn’t certain there was any truth to the stories. Many versions had circulated, and she hardly knew what to believe. She’d heard just recently that the president had appointed a commission to investigate the rumors concerning a massacre. But, truth to tell, she had been too preoccupied with her own survival to pay much heed to politics and such.
    “I know little about such things.” She hesi tated a moment, then said, ”Tis time I left. I dare not linger in the area too long. Knowing Mr. Harley, he’s sent the authorities to search for me.”
    “There are Indian war parties roaming the area,” Wind Rider warned. “The Crow are par ticularly brutal to women captives.”
    Hannah blanched. “I won’t let you frighten me. Death at the hands of Indians is no worse than .. ” She faltered and glanced off into the distance. “I won’t return to Mr. Harley, no mat ter what. I thought I would be free to go if I helped you.”
    Wind Rider struggled to his feet. Grinding pain tore through him, and he gritted his teeth against the vicious onslaught as he gasped out the words, “if you wish-to leave-you-are free-to-go.”
    “Should you be on your feet?” Hannah asked, awed by Wind Rider’s stamina and seeming immunity to pain.
    Wind Rider’s grimace was a parody of a smile. It amused him that this plain-faced woman felt concern for him. Except for his sister’s husband he hated all white eyes. And if he ever learned that Zach Mercer had mistreated Tears Like Rain, he’d kill him without regret. He was Cheyenne by choice and would always be Cheyenne. He couldn’t love White Feather more if he had been his real father. Bluecoats had killed his people and forced them from their ancestral lands, and he’d made a solemn vow to fight to the death to restore the plains to their rightful owners.
    “The pain is nothing,” Wind Rider said sim ply. “I must find my Sioux friends and return to Powder River country.” He tested his leg by put ting his weight on it, bearing the resulting pain with tight-lipped fortitude. “Good-bye, Hannah McLin. It is unlikely we will meet again.”
    “Good-bye, Wind Rider,” Hannah said, strangely reluctant to leave.
    The handsome Indian was unlike any man she’d ever met, and she’d met many during the time she’d worked at Harley’s inn. Experi ence had taught her that men were crude and brutal and couldn’t be trusted. They thought only of their creature comforts and treated women like chattel, placed on earth to give them pleasure. If women were not submissive enough, men gained perverse enjoyment from subduing them with their superior strength. Except for her father and brothers and her cousin Seamus, Hannah feared and hated all men equally.
    Wind Rider regarded Hannah with a touch of awe, annoyed that this ragged scrap of humanity covered with grime had somehow managed to reach a place in him he hadn’t known existed. He didn’t