Authors: Karen Kay

Lakota Princess (39 page)

A twister roared through her, tying her up into tight little knots she couldn’t possibly undo. Sitting there was as uncomfortable as she’d expected, even more so. She counted each clop of the horses’ hooves as each second ticked by. It helped pass the time and gave her something to do besides be silent and awkward.

By the time she reached two thousand four hundred and thirty, she was gritting her teeth. She could swear Shane was deliberately inching closer to her. The metal handle on the seat was currently digging into her hip.

At six thousand two hundred and fifty, she gave up counting entirely. Her hip was throbbing, she had to pee and she had swallowed a bug. It was time to stop and rest for a few minutes.

“Stop the wagon.”

“Huh?” He turned to her, as though he had been daydreaming about anything but sitting beside her on a wagon.

“Stop. The. Wagon. I need to, ah, use the necessary.” Lettie refused to say please. That was not in her vocabulary anymore when she spoke to men, any man.

“Oh, sure thing. I could stretch my legs too after the last couple hours.”

“A couple hours? It’s only been a couple hours?” She punched him in the arm.

“Ow.” He pulled the wagon to a stop in a grassy area and set the brake. As he rubbed the spot where she’d punched him, he scowled at her from under the brim of his borrowed flat-brimmed brown hat. “Why did you hit me?”

Lettie stared, horrified by the fact she had punched him. The man had been beaten nearly to death, and she knew very well how much fists hurt, far longer than the bruises lasted. Yet she had deliberately hit him.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. When he opened his mouth to respond, she turned and leapt off the wagon. She landed hard on her right ankle, which then throbbed as she tottered off to the nearby bushes to relieve herself.

Lettie was never this out of sorts. She felt itchy, as though she could jump out of her skin any minute. As she found a suitable bush, she pulled up her skirt and did what she needed to. She never forgot for a second that Shane was close enough to hear her urinate. It was another strange thing about a strange day.

By the time she cleaned herself up and straightened her clothes, she had calmed down sufficiently to return to the wagon. Her swollen ankle complained with each step, and her boot was too tight. The day kept getting worse.

Shane leaned against the side of the wagon, his feet crossed at the ankle, a stalk of grass stuck between his teeth. He watched her approach, his face hidden by the shade of his hat so she couldn’t see his eyes. She didn’t like that one bit.

“What’s wrong with your foot?”

“Nothing. I twisted it a bit is all.” She went around the back of the wagon and reached into the basket for a bite to eat. With her stomach jumping like a passel of frogs, she didn’t need to get sick from having no food.

“Is there enough in there for me?”

“No.”

“You sure are being ornery, Lettie.” Shane wasn’t accusatory, but he was annoying.

“Then you know the real me.” She found a ham biscuit and turned her back to him. No need to flaunt the food at him—she wasn’t that mean. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to look at him. Or at least that was what she told herself.

“No, but I’m waiting to meet her.” Shane’s response made her pause in mid-motion.

She swung around and speared him with a glare. “What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged. “Just that. You don’t let anyone see you, Lettie.”

His words hit her square between the eyes. It was the truth, of course, but painful nonetheless. She managed not to spit out the bite in her mouth that had turned to ash on her tongue. Lettie swallowed what she could to save herself from looking foolish. Her hands shook with anger.

A little voice deep inside told her it was fear.

“That’s none of your business, Mr. Murphy. You don’t mean anything to me.”

“I know that.”

“You are a drunk, a stranger who puked on my shoes and nothing more.”

“I know that.”

She was within a foot of him, her sharp words whipping through the air like knives. He didn’t flinch or move as she beat him with her verbal fury. Her chest heaved as she struggled for breath, overwhelmed and out of control.

“You are here out of pity. Marta and Pieter felt sorry for you. You aren’t part of our family and you never will be.” Her mouth fairly burned with the viciousness of her attack.

“I know that.”

“Stop saying that.” She thumped one fist on his chest, then the other. Soon she was punching him for all she was worth. Her throat burned, her eyes shed angry tears and she let loose a torrent of sobs that sounded more like a wounded animal than a woman.

Lettie lost all sense of time and self. She tumbled down into a dark, deep hole and huddled there. Strong arms surrounded her, keeping her from sinking any further. Soft crooning echoed in her ear while warm hands rubbed her back.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed before she realized she was curled into a ball on someone’s lap. A male lap. Her arms and legs were stiff, her face hot and wet. She shifted, flush with embarrassment over her attack on him and her subsequent fit. Angeline was the only one who knew about them. Until now.

His arm tightened around her shoulders. “Sit.”

“I can’t sit on your lap, Shane.” She got to her feet, her legs trembling. When she took a step, she lost her balance and fell. He caught her in midair, his arm pushing the breath out of her lungs.

“I reckon you’ll sit now.” He flipped her around, and she found herself right back in his lap.

She should have gotten up, should have told him to let her go, but she didn’t. The sad truth was, he was comfortable, he smelled good and she didn’t want to move. Normally after losing control like that, she felt sick the rest of the day. Shane’s presence must have kept that sickness at bay because her stomach wasn’t hurting in the least.

“I, uh, I’m sorry about what I did.” The apology was like sawdust in her mouth, dry and tasteless.

“You don’t need to apologize.” His voice was honey smooth in her ear.

“Yes I do. I didn’t mean to. I’ve been having fits for a while. I can’t rightly control it.” Her cheeks burned as she admitted there was something very wrong with her.

“I get that way too with whiskey,” he admitted. “I have days, hell weeks, I don’t remember.”

She knew whiskey could make a man stupid but didn’t know it could snatch days from his memory. Another reason not to drink a drop of it. She wondered if Shane would fall back into the bottle again or if he could resist the lure of its amber depths. Lettie didn’t have a choice when it involved her black periods, but maybe he didn’t either.

The sounds of life surrounded them, birds sang, squirrels chattered and bees buzzed. The sun shone brightly on the meadow while Shane and Lettie sat in the shadow of the wagon. It seemed only they knew how dark life could be.

Lakota Princess

Karen Kay

A love that defies the ocean. A secret deeper than blood.

Lakota, Book 2

Driven from her home in England by hostile political forces, Estrela was little more than a girl when she came to be raised by a far western Lakota tribe. On the wide, sweeping plains she grew tall and strong, and won the love of a handsome warrior.

But on the eve of their marriage, she is torn away from her native family, torn from the man she loves, and forced to return to a place that feels more like a foreign country than her home. There she merely exists, haunted by her love’s sweet kisses and heated embrace, yearning for his unforgettable touch.

Black Bear has braved the ocean to find the woman whose beauty has captured his soul. But no sooner has he arrived in England than he is called upon to save her life. Who in their right mind would want to murder such a gentle spirit?

As Black Bear comes between her and death time after time, Estrela wishes they could both just disappear back to the plains, and bury the secret she has long hidden—even from him. A secret from which only their love, truer than blood, can save them.

Warning: Contains separated lovers who will let nothing come between them...not oceans, her mysterious past, or a murderer bent on destroying their future. Sensuous love scenes could make you want to cool off with some skinny dipping, hopefully with a gorgeous lover of your own.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Lakota Princess

ISBN: 978-1-60928-972-0

Edited by Sasha Knight

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Originally published by Avon Books: September 1995

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: January 2012

www.samhainpublishing.com