Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon

raised Marianna’s chin and looked her over carefully. “This one needs care, but she has spirit. It is doubtful that I will ever think of her as my daughter, but I would like to see her health restored.”
    Frowning, Broken Lance turned to Dull Knife. “What do you want for the girl?”
    Dull Knife could hardly keep from smiling. “She is a gift.”
    “Is it agreed that if this white girl does not suit my wife, I will return her to you?”
    Dull Knife looked at his brother with a smirk on his face, though his words were for the chief. “Yes. If she does not suit, I will take her back.”
    “Rest from your journey. Come to the elder’s lodge at dusk tonight. I will hear of your raid,” Broken Lance remarked. “It would seem you have done well.”
    Turning to Wind Warrior, Dull Knife said, “Follow me, brother. I would have a word with you.”
    Reluctantly Wind Warrior fell into step with Dull Knife, still thinking about the young captive. “The girl is sickly. She might die.”
    “That is possible. But her fate is not in your hands. Do not waste my time with your concern for the white girl. It is about you I wish to speak.”
    Wind Warrior met his brother’s dark gaze. “There was a time when I admired you more than any other warrior. Now I see your cruelty and disregard for others, and I no longer respect you.”
    Dull Knife snorted in disgust. “Do you believe I care what you think of me? I will give you this warning only once. Do not again attempt to get in my way as you did today. If you value your life, stay out of my reach.”
    Wind Warrior stepped away from his brother, his gaze never wavering. “The time will come when we will face each other as enemies. It is not my wish, but it will happen.”
    Dull Knife shook his head, loathing gleaming in his eyes. “Do not pretend to me that you can see the future.”
    “I do not claim to be able to see the future,” Wind Warrior responded. “I only know you and I are walking different paths, and our roads will one day bring us to a collision.”
    If that is so, then beware,” Dull Knife warned. “Think on this—Broken Lance has no sons. Therefore, when the white girl is of an age and I take her for my woman, Broken Lance will look to me as his son.”
    The thought of Dull Knife taking the young captive to wife was disturbing to Wind Warrior. “I will be watching you,” he warned.
    Dull Knife swung onto his horse. “One day I will have to kill you.” He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and shot forward, forcing Wind Warrior to step out of the way or be trampled.
    Wind Warrior watched his brother until he disappeared across the river. In some way a girl he had not even known existed before today had sparked something dangerous between him and Dull Knife. How had he gone so quickly from admiring to loathing his brother? It pained him that he had searched his brother’s heart and found only cruelty and greed.
    Marianna didn’t understand what was happening. She watched helplessly as Lillian was led away. “No!” Marianna cried, reaching out to the other girl, who was sobbing. “Do not separate us.”
    But her plea went unheeded. As the Indian woman led her toward the tipi, Marianna called out, “Be brave, Lillian. Remember what I told you. Remember who you are.”
    Despite the encouragement she had called out to Lillian, Marianna didn’t feel very brave herself. If she were to look for a rainbow, it could only be that both she and Lillian had survived another day.
    Fear fluttered in Marianna’s stomach—what was to become of them?
    The inside of the tipi was larger than Marianna had expected from looking at it outside. War clubs, bows, and lances hung on the leather walls. There was a stack of cooking pots and clay bowls near thecook fire. But what really caught Marianna’s attention was the wonderful smell of something cooking among the hot stones, and although she didn’t know what it was, her mouth watered.
    Raising her gaze to the