followed her, she moved away from him to the center of the tipi, intent on starting a fire. She grabbed the flint and a handful of the kindling kept ever ready in the tipi and squatted down in the center of the spacious area near a circle of stones.
To her consternation, he sat down directly across from her. He made no move to relieve her of her task, for which she was grateful. She worked with the flint until a spark hit the moss and a thin line of white smoke rose from the tinder. She’d just taken a deep breath to coax the fire to life when he spoke.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
Chapter 4
O H MY .” I T WAS AN EXPRESSION B AY HAD OFTEN USED AT Three Oaks when she was stunned or pleased or dismayed. Right now she was all three. Yet the words felt strange on her lips and tongue. She wanted to say more, but it had been a long time since she’d turned her thoughts into English words and she was surprised by how much effort it took.
When she remained frozen, Long Quiet leaned over and provided the puff of air needed by the fire for life. “I promised Cricket I’d keep looking for you and that once I found you, if you wanted to go home, I’d take you back,” Long Quiet said.
Bay’s eyes hung on the man who professed to be her rescuer, who was suggesting that after all these years she could simply leave and go home. Then she realized what else he’d said. “You know my sister?”
“Your sister’s husband, Jarrett Creed, is my friend. Three years ago, several warriors of the Comanche band who burned your father’s home passed through my village and spoke of a beautiful woman with violet eyes and hair of flame who’d been captured by Tall Bear. I went looking for you and found Cricket and Creed instead. When it became apparent you were being taken too far north into
Comanchería
for them to follow safely, I promised Cricket I’d keep searching for you until I found you.
“I was sure it would be easy to find such a distinctive woman.” He smiled ruefully. “As you can see, I underestimated Many Horses.” His eyes roamed her face, from the huge violet eyes to the full, slightly parted lips and back again. “It’s hard to believe word of your beauty wasn’t carried on the wind to the farthest reaches of
Comanchería
.”
His words had been spoken in a low, husky voice that touched Bay almost like a hand. Then his hand did reach out, and his fingers tipped her chin up so their eyes met. Bay felt herself sinking into his gaze. He seemed to absorb her, engulf her. It was a frightful sensation, but tantalizing as well. Bay felt the heat at her throat that became a blush on her cheeks. It was a curse of her fair skin that her emotions were so easily revealed.
“I meant only to please you with my words,” he said, discerning her discomfort. He took both her hands in his. “I ask again. Would you like to go home?”
Bay freed herself from the disturbing caress of his fingertips before she answered, “It doesn’t matter what I want. Many Horses would never let me go.”
“Every woman has a price. I will buy you from him.”
“He won’t sell me to any man for any price,” she insisted.
Long Quiet’s gray eyes darkened dangerously. “Then I will steal you from him.” The voice that spoke was arrogant, fierce, and uncompromising, the voice of a Comanche warrior.
“You would steal from your brother?”
Bay could tell her words had stung when he asked in a voice hardened by the need to control his rage, “Do you want to leave or not, Bay?”
Bay started at the sound of her English name spoken aloud. Bay. Bayleigh Falkirk Stewart. He was offering her a chance to take up that other life again. And it was plain he would do whatever was necessary to take her home. All that mattered was whether or not she wanted to go.
“If you only knew how I dreamed of this moment,” Bay whispered. “How I hoped someday someone would come and take me home.” Bay laughed aloud. “And now you’ve
To her consternation, he sat down directly across from her. He made no move to relieve her of her task, for which she was grateful. She worked with the flint until a spark hit the moss and a thin line of white smoke rose from the tinder. She’d just taken a deep breath to coax the fire to life when he spoke.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
Chapter 4
O H MY .” I T WAS AN EXPRESSION B AY HAD OFTEN USED AT Three Oaks when she was stunned or pleased or dismayed. Right now she was all three. Yet the words felt strange on her lips and tongue. She wanted to say more, but it had been a long time since she’d turned her thoughts into English words and she was surprised by how much effort it took.
When she remained frozen, Long Quiet leaned over and provided the puff of air needed by the fire for life. “I promised Cricket I’d keep looking for you and that once I found you, if you wanted to go home, I’d take you back,” Long Quiet said.
Bay’s eyes hung on the man who professed to be her rescuer, who was suggesting that after all these years she could simply leave and go home. Then she realized what else he’d said. “You know my sister?”
“Your sister’s husband, Jarrett Creed, is my friend. Three years ago, several warriors of the Comanche band who burned your father’s home passed through my village and spoke of a beautiful woman with violet eyes and hair of flame who’d been captured by Tall Bear. I went looking for you and found Cricket and Creed instead. When it became apparent you were being taken too far north into
Comanchería
for them to follow safely, I promised Cricket I’d keep searching for you until I found you.
“I was sure it would be easy to find such a distinctive woman.” He smiled ruefully. “As you can see, I underestimated Many Horses.” His eyes roamed her face, from the huge violet eyes to the full, slightly parted lips and back again. “It’s hard to believe word of your beauty wasn’t carried on the wind to the farthest reaches of
Comanchería
.”
His words had been spoken in a low, husky voice that touched Bay almost like a hand. Then his hand did reach out, and his fingers tipped her chin up so their eyes met. Bay felt herself sinking into his gaze. He seemed to absorb her, engulf her. It was a frightful sensation, but tantalizing as well. Bay felt the heat at her throat that became a blush on her cheeks. It was a curse of her fair skin that her emotions were so easily revealed.
“I meant only to please you with my words,” he said, discerning her discomfort. He took both her hands in his. “I ask again. Would you like to go home?”
Bay freed herself from the disturbing caress of his fingertips before she answered, “It doesn’t matter what I want. Many Horses would never let me go.”
“Every woman has a price. I will buy you from him.”
“He won’t sell me to any man for any price,” she insisted.
Long Quiet’s gray eyes darkened dangerously. “Then I will steal you from him.” The voice that spoke was arrogant, fierce, and uncompromising, the voice of a Comanche warrior.
“You would steal from your brother?”
Bay could tell her words had stung when he asked in a voice hardened by the need to control his rage, “Do you want to leave or not, Bay?”
Bay started at the sound of her English name spoken aloud. Bay. Bayleigh Falkirk Stewart. He was offering her a chance to take up that other life again. And it was plain he would do whatever was necessary to take her home. All that mattered was whether or not she wanted to go.
“If you only knew how I dreamed of this moment,” Bay whispered. “How I hoped someday someone would come and take me home.” Bay laughed aloud. “And now you’ve
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