Tykota's Woman(20)

She didn't even hear him come up behind her, and she screamed when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

He pulled her to the ground with such a force that the rocks cut painfully into her skin. "Do not make a sound," he warned.

"But what-"

He clamped a hand over her mouth and whispered next to her ear. "Unless you want to meet Apaches face-to-face, remain silent."

She nodded, and he removed his hand but kept his arm about her, holding her still. She heard the sound of horses below and turned a fearful gaze on Tykota. He looked into her eyes, as though willing her to be strong.

The sun was hot on her face, her black gown was plastered to her body with perspiration, and the sharp stones were cutting into her, but she didn't move or make a sound.

It was quiet now, and she feared that the Apaches had dismounted and were making their way up the hill. Tense moments passed, but soon she heard voices and then the sound of them riding away.

Still Tykota held her there, and she wanted to lay her head against his shoulder and have him tell her that everything would be all right. But she knew he would not welcome such womanly weakness from her.

"Are they really gone?" she whispered, fearing their departure might be a trick. "Will they come back?"

"They are gone," he assured her. "They do not know we are here. They will search elsewhere."

Tykota felt himself responding to the softness of Makinna's body against his. He wanted to crush her tightly to him so that he could feel her every breath. Knowing what her reaction would be if she could read his thoughts, he rolled to his feet, trying not to think of how desirable she was. He had wanted women before, had been with many, but none had ever stirred his blood as she did. He wanted to press his lips to hers and feel her arms go around his shoulders. He wanted her body to become a part of his-

"Will they stop pursuing us now, Tykota?" There was fear in her blue eyes.

"They will not come back here," he said, extending a hand to her. "But they have not given up their search."

"What do we do?" she asked wearily.

"We outthink them," he answered, turning away.

She flipped a tangled curl from her face and said softly, "I am so tired. And I feel sure that I could drink a river dry."

"If we can make our water last through this day and tomorrow, you can have all the water you want by tomorrow night."

She brushed gravel from her hands and noticed that her palms were bleeding. "I can do it," she replied with staunch determination.

Makinna did not see the softness in Tykota's dark eyes or his hand reach out to her, then drop to his side. "You must get out of this sun. Already your face is burned."

She glanced about. "I see no shade."

"Remove your petticoat and give it to me."

She was shocked by his suggestion. Taking a hasty step backward, she exclaimed, "I will do no such thing!"

"Remove it, or I will do it for you, Miss Hillyard."

She saw the look in his eyes and knew he meant what he said. She moved away from him a few paces. "Turn your back."

He did as she asked, a small smile on his lips. How could she worry about modesty when she faced death from hunger, thirst, and the Apache? But that was Makinna.

She blushed as she stepped out of her petticoat and held it out to him. "You can turn around now."

Tykota took it and ripped out a seam. "I wonder who decided that a white woman should wear so many undergarments."

She watched as he erected a shelter by stretching the petticoat across two branches that he'd buried in the sand, securing the other end with stones.

"Now I advise you to get out of the sun."

"What about you?"

He reached out and touched her face that was still smudged with faint traces of mud. "I told you, I do not burn."

She was transfixed by his gentle touch and the expression in his dark eyes. In that moment, something primitive called to her that this was the man she had been waiting for all her life. Something about him kept pulling at her, and she wanted to give in to the feeling. She wanted to be in his arms, to feel him hold her close, to never let her go. And that frightened her more than anything else.

Tykota abruptly looked away and dropped his hand, ending the moment of closeness.

Makinna scrambled beneath the shelter, wondering why her heart was drumming against her ribs and why she felt as if she might faint at any moment. Probably the heat, she convinced herself. Hadn't Mr. Carruthers implied that the desert sun could play tricks with a person's mind? Yes, that was probably it.

She watched Tykota walk away and disappear over the rise. She wanted to know where they were going. She would demand an answer from him as soon as the moment presented itself. She had to get away from him, because something was happening to her that she didn't understand. Something powerful and unexpected and frightening.