Captivated by Vivi Holt

Author:Vivi Holt [Holt, Vivi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance, Women's Fiction, Native American, Heritage, Multicultural, victorian, 19th Century, Forever Love, Bachelor, Single Woman, Love Possibility, Frontier & Pioneer, Western, Hearts Desire, American West, Clean & Wholesome, Christian Stories, Faith Based, Inspirational Reads, Love Inspired, Life-Changes, Second Chances, Honesty & Trust, Home & Family, Lifetime Love, Romantic Schemes, Cutter's Creek Series, Multi-Author's, Novella's, Short Stories, Montana Territory, Beautiful & Feisty
Publisher: Black Lab Press
Published: 2017-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Maria stirred and woke, her blurred vision taking in the riverbank, the escarpment shadowing their campsite and the white salt beach. Covered in bison hides, she lay still a moment, snug in their warmth. She recounted the events of the previous evening and her cheeks flamed. Where was Bodaway?

She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and scanned the campsite. He squatted by the fire, a long stick in his hands. He prodded the fire with the stick, stoking it, and the flames leaped higher with a crackle. “Good morning,” she called.

“Good morning, Angpa.”

She blushed. She knew angpa meant “dawn” or “sunshine”, and the word on his lips made her pulse quicken. She stood, and straightened first her dress, then her hair. He strode over to her, and kissed the tip of her nose, then brushed his lips over hers, his eyes gleaming as they connected with her gaze. But as he did, a flash of Fred’s pale face interrupted her thoughts, and she pushed Bodaway back with a frown. “Sorry … I think I need to take a walk; to get some air.”

He frowned, watching as she wrapped a fur around her thin shoulders. “Well, we have a lot of work to do today if we plan on getting back to the camp before dusk. There’s no point in leaving this buck half-smoked and the salt in the kettles. We should finish what Anun started rather than wasting it all.” His brow furrowed and he studied the fire, seeming unable to meet her gaze again.

“Okay,” she said, then turned and hurried down the riverbank, her feet slipping in the sand.

What was she doing? She’d betrayed Fred’s memory. She’d let her guard down. Bodaway was a kind man, but he was still her captor. How had she let this happen? She’d been so relieved to see him – he’d rescued her from Anunkasan – but that’s all it was.

And now what? What should she do? She was married to the man, and he wanted everything from her – body and soul. She could see that now, and didn’t understand how she hadn’t noticed it before. He was in love with her.

When had that sprung upon them? Love? Did she love him too? And if she did, what did that mean? Would she give up the idea of ever being rescued, ever getting home to see Mother and Father? Could she stay with the Lakota for the rest of her days, raising babies, riding ponies bareback and cooking by an open fire? Of course not. She wanted civilization. She longed to go home. It was all she’d ever wanted. And she couldn’t let herself get sidetracked or distracted by a man, no matter how much he made her heart pound and her legs weaken.

She walked for an hour, only turning back when her feet ached. When she returned to their campsite, Bodaway was working hard, boiling salt down in the kettles, wrapping slices of smoked deer meat and packing them onto the travois for the return journey.

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