Tykota's Woman (Historical Romance) (13 page)

Tykota had been gone for hours, and Makinna
was beginning to worry. He'd left early that
morning, and it was now almost sundown. He'd
never stayed away this long. A wave of despair
hit her as she imagined the Apache finding him,
or any number of other hazards he might have
fallen prey to. Danger lurked everywhere in this
scorching, hostile land.

Moving out of the cave, she stood atop the
ledge that gave her a wide view of the
countryside. She shaded her eyes against the
glaring sun and looked for any movement.

A dust devil danced in the distance, and the
ever-present vultures circled in the sky, but
beyond that there was nothing-no sign of life,
just the brittle heat and the never-ceasing wind.

Where could Tykota be? she wondered. Why
had he been gone so long?

She couldn't just stay in the cave waiting for
him to return. If he was in some kind of danger,
she needed to find him.

She discovered that climbing down the
mountain was more difficult than climbing up.
Once she lost her footing and slid toward the
edge, her feet dangling over the side. She was
able to save herself only by grabbing hold of a
plant that clung to life in the rock surface. Inch
by inch she eased herself away from the edge,
then collapsed, trembling. After she'd caught her
breath and gathered her courage, she continued
her descent.

It took her the better part of an hour to reach
the bottom. When she stood on level ground, she
still saw no sign of Tykota. Of course, he'd leave
no tracks behind, nothing that would attract
attention. He was much too intelligent for that.
She ripped a scrub bush up by the roots and
brushed her own tracks away as she'd seen him
do, thinking he'd be proud of her for being so
cautious.

Makinna tried to decide which direction he
would have taken. She reasoned that he wouldn't
head into the desert but might have gone hunting
in the foothills to the west. She settled on
exploring those. As she, walked along, she
paused often to search for any sign of his
presence.

She felt every stone under her still tender feet,
and she soon grew thirsty and wondered why she
hadn't brought the canteen with her. Weary, she
tripped and fell.

She rose slowly, glancing toward the west.
The sun was low on the horizon. She would
never be able to make her way up the mountain
in the dark, but she couldn't return without
finding Tykota. She studied the ground but saw
nothing to indicate that he'd come this way.

Her leg was throbbing; she must have
injured it in the fall. Raising her skirt, she saw
the cut on her knee. It was bleeding, and she
wished she had a strip of her petticoat to tie
around it.

Suddenly Makinna saw Tykota leap toward
her, and she was shocked when he propelled
her backward with such a force that he
knocked her to the ground. Gripping her tightly,
he fell with her, and they tumbled and rolled
down a slight embankment into thick, gnarled
foliage.

Thorns jabbed into her, but she was more
aware of Tykota's body on top of hers, her
fingers clutching his hard, muscled shoulders.
When she caught her breath, she asked, "Why
did you-"

Tykota clamped a hand over her mouth and
nodded toward the top of the embankment. She
heard the sound of horses, heard voices speaking
a guttural language she did not understand.

It was the Apache!

Makinna lay trembling with fear, hoping they
hadn't seen her. She was dimly conscious of
sharp rocks digging into her skin, and the weight
of Tykota's body cutting off her breathing. But
when she shifted the merest bit, and he raised his
head to look at her, like lightning striking, like a
hammer against an anvil, she became aware of
his body in an entirely new way. She felt the
formidability of his strength, the swell of him
against her thigh, and she was excruciatingly
aware of his manliness. She could scarcely
breathe when he rested his brow against hers,
and his hand went up to tangle in her hair. Raw
emotions tore through her body, and she knew he
could feel it, too.

He stared at her, his eyes penetrating and
fierce, as if she was the one woman he dare not
love. Yet they might be mere moments away
from death.

Makinna daringly placed a kiss on his bronze
cheek.

Tykota's eyes flamed as if the sun was shining
through them. His mouth was only a breath away
from hers, and Makinna wanted to move that
fraction of an inch that would bring their lips
together. Even the threat of the Apaches seemed
to fade from her mind. All she was aware of
were the new feelings splintering through her
body, and the man who had aroused those
feelings in her.

Tykota's brow furrowed, and he tried to ease
himself off her, but the movement tugged up her
gown, exposing the smoothness of her thighs.

Makinna gasped, her eyes round with
bewilderment, as wave after wave of heat surged
through her. And she could tell by the way
Tykota suddenly went rigid that he was fighting
whatever feelings were stirring inside of him. He
trembled with the tight restraint he tried to keep
on his emotions.

Tykota gazed down at Makinna, ran a hand
through her silken hair, and his heart raced. Like
a man in a dream, he could not stop himself,
could not control his own actions. He lowered
his head, his mouth almost on hers. "Makinna,"
he whispered, his breath gently touching her lips.
"Makinna."

She reached up, her fingers sliding though his
thick hair. "Kiss me," she whispered.

A raw urgency built in the pit of his stomach
and spread through his veins, his mind, his
whole being. It didn't seem to matter that the
Apache were nearby, or that they might die at
any time. In that moment, she became his
woman, his to protect, to love, to take. Just a
kiss was all he wanted, or so he thought. But
when his lips touched hers, he knew that
would never be enough. His mouth ground
against hers. His tongue explored the recesses
of her mouth, darting in and out, stirring the
heat in his belly. He wanted to know her in every way a man can know a woman. He wanted
to explore her hidden beauty and kiss every part
of her body. Wild, primitive emotions tore
through him, and he was on fire. He needed her
more than the air he breathed.

Makinna smothered a groan as Tykota's
mouth continued to plunder hers. She felt him
harden against her thigh, and she trembled. His
body seemed to shelter her, and she thought she
would die from his nearness. Oh, what was this
weakness she felt, this awakening of her body
and spirit? Why did she wish the Apache would
stay for a very long time so she could absorb the
feel of Tykota Silverhom into her mind and
body?

Suddenly, Tykota tore his mouth away from
hers and stared at her lips, which were swollen
from his kiss. "Makinna, I-"

He suddenly froze. Two of the Apache were
moving down the ravine, and they were talking
excitedly. Tykota glanced quickly at the ground
where he had tackled with Makinna before
rolling her into the bushes. He'd had no time to
erase their footprints, which would be very
apparent to the Apaches' experienced eyes.

Tykota knew that their only hope was the
encroaching darkness. The sun had almost
dropped behind the mountain, and that would
make it more difficult to see the evidence of
their presence.

By now, Makinna realized that the Apache were moving in their direction. Her eyes
widened when Tykota reached down and clasped
the handle of his knife.

She lay quietly, his body pressing against
hers, his face only inches away, listening to the
Apaches. The two warriors stopped so near
them that Makinna could have reached out and
touched one of them. She felt the bitter taste of
fear in her mouth. She closed her eyes, sure
that the Indians had discovered their hiding
place.

Tense moments passed as the Indians
continued to talk. Then, Makinna's fear seemed
to melt away as she felt Tykota's body soften
into hers. She felt his every intake of breath
against her breasts, and somehow she felt he was
breathing for them both. She had such faith in
Tykota's power that she believed the two
warriors would not have a chance against him.
Tykota would keep her safe.

Silently, she waited, knowing he could not
move off her or the sound would attract the
Apaches' attention. She could still feel the touch
of his lips on hers. The sweetness of it was
almost unendurable. It was as though he had
kissed her good-bye.-

Tykota raised his head when one of the
Apaches moved closer. He tightened his grip on
his knife. With a look of profound sorrow, he
placed the tip of the knife to Makinna's breast.
Her eyes widened as she realized the signifi cance of his action. If the Apache found them,
he would plunge the knife into her heart to
spare her an even more hideous fate.

His lips silently shaped the words, "Do not
move."

She licked her dry lips and nodded, wanting
him to know that he must not hesitate to kill her
if their hiding place was discovered.

Tykota gazed deeply into Makinna's sky-blue
eyes. She seemed to understand and trust him to
do what he must. He dipped his head, pressing
his lips once more against hers. Her lips
trembled beneath his, but she did not pull away.
He wanted to save her, wanted to have her with
him until the day he closed his eyes in death, but
if they were found by the Apache, this moment
was all they would ever have. He would never
know the sweetness of her body.

He laid the knife at his side where he could
grab it if he had to. Afraid he would never have
the chance again, he moved his hand across the
breasts straining against her bodice. Silently, he
opened the neck of her gown and lowered his
head, his mouth touching one rosy tip gently,
almost reverently.

Her arms slid around him, and she bit her lips
to keep from crying out as a flood of feelings
rocked her body. She realized that he was
distracting her from the danger and taking her
mind off the knife he might have to use.

His tongue aroused her nipple, and her hands clenched in his dark hair. The sensation
that moved through her was liquid and hot, and
she arched her body to fit snugly against his.

Even while Tykota was tasting the sweetness
of Makinna's breasts, he was aware of every
movement the Apaches made. He knew when
one warrior knelt down to examine the ground,
and he also knew that the sun had dropped
behind the mountain by now, casting the land in
shadows.

The Apache called to his companion, and
Tykota raised his head, pulling Makinna's gown
together. What was he doing? He had to keep a
clear mind if they were to escape detection. He
gripped the knife anew. If the Apache discovered
their hiding place, he must not let them take
Makinna alive.

Makinna felt the breath of death brush her.
Strangely, she was no longer afraid, only deeply
sad because Tykota's death at the hand of his
enemy would be much worse than hers at his
hand.

The Indian poked at the bush with the butt of
his rifle, and Tykota gripped the knife and placed
the point against her breast once more.

Minutes passed with the slowness of hours.
Then, to Makinna's surprise, the two Apaches
walked away and climbed back up the hill,
where they joined their companions. But Tykota
did not move the knife until he heard them riding
away.

Makinna closed her eyes as relief washed over
her. "Have they really gone, Tykota?"

"Come," he said, rising and taking her hand.
"It is safe to return to the cave. It is too dark for
them to search further tonight."

He led her up the steep hill and into the
cavern. There in the darkness he turned her to
him. She hoped he would take her into his arms
and kiss her as he had earlier, but his voice was
cold and distant when-he-spoke.

"You know I would have killed you if they
had found us?"

"I know that."

"We were fortunate this time-next time we
may not be."

She felt like crying, because he had stepped
away from her. "I know that, too."

"You should not have come out of the cave
without me. You were aware of the dangers."

She nodded, even, knowing he could not see
her in this darkness. Or could he?

Makinna slid down to her knees and leaned
back against the rock wall. It was clear to her
that Tykota had only kissed her to keep her from
being so frightened of the Apache. He had used
his sensuality, and it had worked only too well,

Makinna silently waited for him to continue.
She didn't have to wait long.

"We have to talk," he said, moving away from
her and standing at the entrance to the cave.

She stood up and walked over to him. "I
know."

"First, I will ask you to forgive me for what
happened between us."

She came up beside him. "There is nothing to
forgive. I know why you..-. kissed me."

He turned around and took her hands. "I
should never have touched you with such
intimacy. No one should be that familiar with
your body but the man you will one day marry."

She pulled her hands free of his, feeling cold
and empty in the depths of her heart. "I know
you were only trying to distract me from the
danger. It worked as well as when you goaded
me to anger to get me across the desert. You are
very good at ruling people, Tykota."

"I am sorry." His voice sounded devoid of
emotion.

A lump formed in her throat. "As I said, there
is nothing to apologize for."

Makinna just wanted him to leave before the
tears that were in her heart reached her eyes. He
must not know that she loved him, that if he
wanted her, she would go anywhere with him,
brave any hardship, just to be with him.

"Please," she said, turning away. "I am weary.
I want to be alone now."