The Savage by Nicole Jordan

Author:Nicole Jordan
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781937515171
Publisher: Spencerhill Associates

Chapter 13

Lightning slashed the black horizon, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. His nerves sharpened by the approaching storm and the scent of rain, Lance stealthily made his way on foot through the sleeping Comanche camp. His plan was to seize Amelia from her captor’s tepee and be long gone by the time the village awoke in the morning.

The odds of success ran against him. It was the pride of a Comanche warrior to be able to slip into an enemy camp to steal horses and women without detection, but to be able to steal from the Comanches themselves would be a feat indeed.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance, but Lance kept moving. He felt his heartbeat accelerate to a heavy thudding as he neared the silhouette of Tuhsinah’s lodge. In the darkness he could barely make out the entrance flap, which was tied securely to protect against wind and rain. Amelia would be just inside, as far away as possible from the rear of the tepee, the place of honor where the owner slept.

Ignoring the entrance, Lance crouched down and drew his knife from its scabbard. He had waited two days for this chance. His hope that Amelia’s captor would leave with a hunting party hadn’t materialized, and he had decided to act now. The brewing storm had seemed an omen, as well as a practical blessing. The gusting wind would hide the sound of his approach and, hopefully, his escape, while the drenching rain would cover his tracks within moments. The storm provided an added advantage as well. Comanches, who usually feared nothing and no one, were highly superstitious of lightning and thunder, and rarely rode out in such weather. Even if his nemesis was awakened by the storm, pursuit would likely be delayed.

If, that is, he managed to spirit Amelia away.

His senses alive as those of a hunting wolf, Lance ran his knife carefully beneath the rim of the tipi, slicing the strong buffalo sinews that pinned the hide covering to the ground. Carefully then, he began digging a stake from the earth to make room for him to slip beneath the edge.

A crescendo of thunder made him swear silently. He hoped the storm would hold off just long enough for him to free Amelia. He’d left his horses and his weapons a short distance from the camp, and if he could make it there with her, they might survive.

He unearthed a second stake and then eased himself down on his back. Slowly he raised the edge of the covering and peered beneath. A faint glow from the coal file in the center of the tepee lent enough light that he could make out the sleeping figures on the ground. Tuhsinah had only one wife, and he lay with her about twelve feet away on a bed of buffalo robes. A yard to Lance’s right, Tuhsinah’s captive slept naked, curled on her side.

Seeing her position, Lance swore again. Amelia’s back was toward him, her head the farthest point away.

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