Warrior Moon by Orwig Sara

Author:Orwig, Sara [Orwig, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781626817692
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2015-04-26T04:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

They headed south, riding hard across open land. Days later, the land changed to rolling grassland with mesquite, cedars, and cottonwoods. Because of the flyers offering a reward and bearing her picture, Lone Wolf thought Vanessa should avoid all towns; so, as they neared Fort McKavett, he and Muaahap rode into Menard to get supplies and learn what day it was. Lone Wolf took Vanessa’s gold and bought two rifles, ammunition, and a long list of supplies. Muaahap purchased a hat for Vanessa and yards of green muslin for a dress. Lone Wolf bought woolen trousers, a shirt and vest, a coat, a hat, and a pair of boots.

When they rejoined Vanessa, he dismounted and began to unpack all they had purchased.

“Now I need to teach you and Muaahap to fire a rifle. Also, I bought the clothing we’ll need but I do not like to shed my buckskins.”

“You won’t stand out as much if you wear the white man’s clothing or if you cut your hair.”

He nodded solemnly. “I only cut my hair this one time. You cut it, Vanessa. Although even with it cut in the white man’s style, anyone who glances at me will know I’m Indian.” She had to agree as her gaze ran over his features.

He had honored her wishes and had not kissed her since they had turned to ride south. The occasional brush of his fingers when he handed her something or of his shoulder against hers as he moved past sent tingles through her. With each passing hour, she grew more aware of him and the longing she felt for him increased.

“Today is Thursday. We can be close to McKavett and Glen Hollow tomorrow; then we will camp and wait for Sunday. I want to see this church and plan what we’ll have to do.”

“I think we should find a safe place for Muaahap and White Bird and leave them, then come back and get them.”

He nodded solemnly, and she wondered if he had already decided on a similar plan.

That evening when they camped, he sat on a stump while she combed his thick black hair. The strands were coarse, as black as raven feathers. Her fingers moved over his head, brushing his neck, his ear, while he sat still. She leaned against him, parting his hair in the center and combing it, picking up strands, feeling strange about cutting his hair as if she were violating some primitive law.

Lone Wolf sat still, inhaling the faint scent of rosewater as her fingers brushed his nape and head. She leaned against him and her body was warm. Her fingers offered the faintest contact, yet her light touches stirred his desire for her.

As she tried to part his hair, he spread his knees and she stepped between them. Since her concentration was on his hair, Lone Wolf suspected she was unaware that she was arousing him.

She stood between his thighs, her breasts in front of his eyes. The buckskin was belted, the soft leather clinging to her.

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