Silver Tears by Becky Lee Weyrich Page B

the woman-hungry stares of the men.
    This morning was different, however. This morning was special. There was a certain young woman who needed to see that she was not the only female in his life. She needn’t know that he was planning to return Ishani to her people as soon as he could persuade her that it was the right thing to do.
    Not giving the slightest sign that he was looking for her, holding his head rigid and seeming to stare straight ahead, Gunn let his eyes dart from side to side, as watchful as a fox. He spied Alice’s door open a crack. A moment later a bright skirt caught the sunlight. Gunn reined in his big horse and waited.
    Although Alice felt like running to him, she tried to maintain some manner of decorum, even in her excitement. How could she have been so mistaken about him when she arrived? He was by far the most handsome, most exciting man she had ever seen in her life. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel as if his deep-green eyes were actually stroking her body. As for his kisses, no man had ever kissed her that way, certainly not her husband. She knew that even when they married, she would never have enough of Gunn. Her longing for him seemed almost sinful in its intensity, she thought with a delicious little shiver.
    When the men of the fort closed in around Gunn, blocking her path, Alice gave up her ladylike posture to shoulder her way through the crowd.
    “Let me pass,” she repeated time and again. The men begrudgingly gave way to her. She couldn’t imagine why they should all be so anxious to see Christopher Gunn, since he spent much of his time here at the fort.
    Finally she stood within the inner circle, staring up, her blue eyes bright and shining in anticipation. The sight of him, towering over her, took her breath away. He was dressed like some heathen god, in leggings, breech-clout, and a long cape of the finest dressed white hide. The edge of his mantle was sewn in an intricate pattern of colored beads. A black fur sleeve covered one arm. When the sun came out of the clouds, Alice was forced to shield her eyes to continue looking at Gunn. Copper pendants dangled from his earlobes and a heavy breast-plate of the same metal made him glow as if with an inner fire. His long hair was bound on either side with deerhide thongs adorned with feathers.
    “He’d pass for a proper savage,” Alice heard one of the men near her say.
    “Aye, it’s a savage the man is,” another agreed. “None other would be friends with that bloodthirsty Frenchman.”
    “There’s rewards to be had from consorting with the enemy,” the first man stated. “Just look at them fancy duds.”
    The other man laughed. “Never mind the skins, furs, and feathers. I’ll take me the woman and thank you kindly.”
    Alice blushed to her hairline. These men were no gentlemen to say such things about her within her hearing. She’d tell Gunn the moment they were alone so he’d put a stop to their loose talk once and for all.
    Gunn swung down from his mount. Alice started toward him, but he seemed not to notice her. Instead of coming to greet her, he walked around his mount to take the reins of another horse that had followed close behind as he entered the fort.
    Alice’s hand went to her throat and she gasped aloud. There on the second horse sat the most beautiful young woman she had ever seen—tall, slender, with hair like a raven’s wing and eyes like glowing onyx. She, like Gunn, wore a costume of white skins, but a length of European fabric served as her mantle. The pattern of the tartan was unmistakable to Alice—the forest-green and black with the thin red line of Clan Gunn. Her heart sank. This was a clear indication that the bond between Gunn and the lovely, dark-haired, copper-skinned creature was much closer than he’d led Alice to believe.
    Now, when she most wanted to fade into the crowd and be lost from view, Gunn seemed to see Alice for the first time. She wanted to