This is part of my new weekly teaser event. Stranger Sunday is when the main character encounters a stranger and we find out how he/she handles it. For Stranger Sunday, I am including an excerpt from a Western historical romance work in progress with the initial title of Savage Heart. Here is the teaser: Hannah suddenly felt faint. Fear choked her, had her gasping for air. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. “But, I’m not really a patient man, am I, boys?” They howled in laughter as he drew her off of his knee, stood her up straight and fumbled with the buttons on his pants while holding her firm at the waist. Her whole body shook with fear and terror, and tears consistently ran down her cheeks. “Please…I won’t tell anyone what happened. Just go.” “You can’t tell anyone, girl. You’re in the middle of nowhere.” Just as his pants dropped, there was a loud thud and the men started yelling. Free to move suddenly, Hannah turned to see the man fall over to the ground, a knife planted in his chest. Stunned, she smoothed down her dress, then stood in shock to see that the other men had arrows sticking out of them. One by one, each of the men sank to the ground with a thump, stirring up clouds of dust. Then all of sudden, a rider came barreling down towards her on his horse and she screamed, raising her arms over her eyes. Would he kill her too? He took hold of her arm and swung her up before him on the horse, then rode in the opposite direction from the ranch. Seated in front of him, Hannah couldn’t see the rider. But, she felt his arm pressed against her middle and the feel of his body as she leaned into him. It was a heady sensation. She was more aware than ever of the fact that a man held her and she wasn’t disgusted by his touch. Not to mention the fact that beneath her dress, her skin was completely bare. Shaking off her foolishness, she focused on the ride. The galloping of the horse brought back the nausea she’d felt before as well as a reminder of the pain that originated in her shoulder. She wondered who the rider was. Had he rescued her from those men because she was in trouble or because he wanted her for himself? The latter made her tremble violently. Would the terror of the afternoon ever end? Would she ever be safe again? The exhaustion of the day took over. A part of her mind closed off the nightmare then. If she closed her eyes, she would be safe again, back in her small farmhouse. If she dug deep enough, she could imagine that she was still a married woman and her husband was sitting at the dinner table with her. Memory was a tricky thing. She wondered if his absence had hardened her heart. Though she had remained angry with Thomas after his death, he had been a good man. He’d taken care of her. Though he obviously hadn’t loved her, he had provided her with a home and a life. Sometimes, when he was asleep and she was not, he would draw her close and she would feel the stirrings of something she couldn’t describe. She had always wondered why she wasn’t in love with her husband. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. It surely hadn’t been just him. He had been a good husband. She had often been unhappy with her lot in life. She should have felt blessed, but a part of her wished for something extraordinary. She wanted adventure, romance, something more than what she had. Did a mysterious rider who rescued her from a bunch of good for nothing bastards fit the bill? She wished she could see his face. Then she would feel a lot better about the situation. **** Mantotohpa was very aware of the woman in the saddle in front of him. He could tell she was weary from her ordeal, but she seemed to be fighting it. He didn’t blame her. She probably didn’t know if she could trust him. The twelve years he’d spent with the Whites had taught him that even they were slow to trust people. The Tsitsistas were different. They genuinely cared about one another. He knew some of the Whites were similar, but not all. There were some who took whatever they wanted, regardless of who or what it hurt, like those men today. Manto regretted he had not acted sooner. If he had not been so focused on getting the perfect shot, that man wouldn’t have touched her at all. He had also been momentarily distracted by her perfect skin. He had never before seen a white woman naked, or at least in the daylight, even half-naked as she had been. When he had been with a white woman, just once, he had practically been a boy. He would have to be more careful with this woman. She was definitely a distraction. He was aware of her scent as she sat before him. It wafted into his nostrils as they rode along. It was like wildflowers. He shook the thought away. He had no room for a woman in his life, especially a white woman. Though he caught his gaze drifting to the fine, soft curls in her dark hair, the way it fell down the length of her back, her curves, the way she felt resting against his chest and thighs. His member grew in response. He shook his head. He still had no time to think about a woman. The tribe needed him. He would take her to safety and that was all. What had she been doing out there anyway? As he’d stumbled onto the scene, he’d noticed another horse track and had to assume the horse had been scared away. He supposed it wasn’t any of his business, but women had to be careful when they were out alone. Even his tribesmen didn’t allow their women to stray too far when gathering berries and plants for the food they prepared. They could so easily be captured and taken to enemy tribes. Sometimes the White man was just as guilty. He had heard many stories of women from other tribes who had been kidnapped and then married into a white man’s family. He shuddered to think of it. What would possess the Yancy to do such a thing? The women in the tribe were special, part of a whole. To take one away was sacrilege. It would be even worse for a woman to voluntarily leave for a White man. He didn’t know any women of the Tsitsistas who had done such a thing. Mantotohpa could see the sun beginning to set and he knew that they needed to find shelter soon. Once they reached the canyon, everything would be fine. Until then, he had to scan the ground for snakes and scorpions. His horse would not survive it if that happened. He tried hard to focus on the path before him, nudging his horse into a wild race to get there as soon as possible. He tried not to notice the woman pressed against him. Again, he didn’t need the distraction. **** By the time they reached their destination, it was dark. The pain in her shoulder was excruciatingly real. Hannah had noticed it before, but the stress of the struggle with those men and then her companion’s timely rescue had caused her to overlook the pain. The jostling from the horse’s movement had brought it to the surface. The man she leaned against felt warm, comforting somehow, and the long ride had taken its toll. Hannah had fallen asleep until the absence of movement had jolted her awake. “What is it?” she whispered groggily. “We must take shelter for the night,” he said near her ear. His warm breath caused sudden fires to burn over her skin. It made her aware of even the smallest movement he made. She became unbearably flushed, and wondered at the cause of it. With Thomas, she had been a virgin at first, but her modesty had eventually faded to a comfort level, at least with certain situations. She had never felt more aware of her womanhood as she did now. The fact that she was leaning into the alluring, solid chest of a complete stranger fairly alarmed her. Would she be crazy to trust this man? He had saved her from being accosted. But, how far did he expect her gratitude to extend? “Where are we?” “Close to a place I know. We can find shelter there. I’ll have to tie up the horse here. I can’t take any chances that we’ll be tracked. It’s just a short walk.” “All right.” Hannah waited as he got off of the horse. Then, with something lacking finesse in her plain blue cotton skirt, she swung her legs over the side of the horse, turning towards her companion. When she descended, he caught her against him, then gradually let her slide down his body. Aware of the finest sensations in her body from that brief touch, she cleared her throat and looked away. “We should be there soon,” he said gently. She only nodded. She wondered why he hadn’t spoken before now. His silence throughout the ride had only caused her to believe he wished for anonymity. But, wouldn’t most men want recognition for their honorable deeds? A strained silence whispered between them. Suddenly, the man turned and went down a path. It was obvious he expected her to follow him. By only the light of the moon, she trailed behind him. The dirt path threw dust up against her skirt and shoes. She allowed herself a moment’s modesty. She probably looked a fright in her dress that had been soiled from her struggle with those men. She shrugged. It had taken three years of hard work to make her look at life differently. Her coddled existence back in Denver had left her lacking the necessary skills to live on a ranch. And sometimes, she still cursed her parents and her husband for allowing her to be spoiled. If she had not had to learn firsthand how to survive in a rough environment, she wouldn’t be alive now. Though she had definitely been having a hard time getting acquainted with the farming aspects of the ranch, at least she no longer worried so much about getting her hands dirty. Aware that the strange man ahead of her had caused her to revert back to a moment of vanity, she pressed forward, trailing after him. After a few more minutes, she could see a clearing up ahead. As they passed the line of the trees, a small river became visible. A few yards away sat a structure, much like a cabin. In the darkness, it was hard to see much else. Hannah followed the man right up to the door. When she crossed the threshold, the building was bathed in complete darkness. A few feet away, the man lit a small lamp and the room was covered in dim light. The dancing light illuminated the man’s features. His eyes were nearly black, set into a hard, angular face. His straight nose gave him a commanding look, but his lips were not as hard as the rest of his face. They were full, expressive. The stern look to his features overall was appealing, casting him as an attractive man. His hair was equally dark, straight and worn long, but tied at the nape of his neck by a brown leather thong. He wore no shirt, only a breechclout, or a loincloth, with leggings underneath. The pants were a soft tan color with fringes on the edges. His chest and belly were hard and tanned. His entire body was muscled, and she swallowed hard at the power he exuded. He was an Indian, what people referred to as a savage. She had never felt prejudiced toward anyone, especially people she couldn’t claim to have met or known. It didn’t make sense how there was this widely held belief about Indians, especially when not all of them spoke the same language. However, the chivalry he had exhibited earlier in the day contradicted what she had heard about Indians. It seemed there was more to them than what the rumors provided. It seemed strange to her that he spoke perfect English too. How had that come to be? When his gaze met hers, her mouth went dry. Once again, she was the first to look away. She did not want to be caught staring at him, however attractive he was. She reached out and pushed the door shut behind her, suddenly aware that she’d forgotten about it. Hannah gave herself a moment to inspect the cabin. It was dry, but, for all intents and purposes, fairly sparse. It was probably more of a temporary shelter than an actual home. There was a small table with two chairs at one end of the room. There was a fireplace near the other end and nearby was a bed. It wasn’t large by any means, and it wasn’t overly impressive as far as appearances went, but it served a purpose. The place was definitely a man’s cabin. It lacked a woman’s touch. She had to assume he wasn’t married. Though that fact relieved her for some reason, she also instinctively knew she wasn’t any safer with that knowledge. Though the man had been a gentleman up until now, he was still a stranger and an Indian, however well versed he was in her native tongue. He strode towards her suddenly and she backed away. A familiar sense of dread began in the pit of her stomach. He frowned. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” She nodded. He went straight past her to the door and she turned to look at him. “I must take care of the horse. He will be very tired by now. I’ll be back shortly.” Hannah nodded again and watched as he left. She was too nervous to make herself comfortable. Her fears returned. No matter how civilized the man seemed to be, he could still mean to do her harm, despite his promise. No man kept his promises. At least none she had met. When he returned, she backed away once more. His eyes narrowed on her, black slits. She shuddered at the sight. He could definitely be intimidating. “I told you I would not harm you. I meant it.” She allowed the relief to seep into her. The knots released in her belly. She nodded once more. He pointedly gestured to her arm, which she held against her stomach so she wouldn’t jar the joint. “Are you wounded?” He was concerned. That relieved her even more. “It’s just my shoulder. I was thrown from my horse.” “Thrown? Today?” “Yes.” He stepped in front of her. “May I?” Clearly, he meant to look at her shoulder. She nodded. “All right.” He touched different places on her arm and shoulder and she couldn’t help but grimace at the slightest discomfort. She had a feeling he missed nothing in his inspection of her. Then, when he moved her arm slightly, a sharp pain shot up toward her shoulder, and she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. He sighed. “Well, it is either broken or it is out of place. I think it is the latter. The fall may have dislodged it.” “Oh. What can we do?” “I will put it back in place.” “How?” “It’s better if you don’t know.” He took her good hand and braced it against his shoulder. “Now, I need you to grit your teeth. If you don’t, you could bite your tongue off.” Her eyes flew wildly to his face. Dear God, what was he going to do? She stood so close to him, though, that her thoughts became jumbled. She was aware of his scent, earthy with a hint of some spice. She inhaled, grateful for that distraction, as she clenched her teeth upon his instructions. His hand traveled from the wrist of her opposite arm to the bend of her elbow. From there, he braced his feet and grasped her arm firmly. In a swift move, he pushed it back into place. The movement had her crying out and gasping for air, then staggering against him. He held her close for several moments. Her vision seemed to blur for several seconds, and then it cleared. The pain gradually became less and less as time ticked past. Suddenly, she was aware that she was in the arms of a strange man, and she didn’t know the first thing about him. Stepping back too quickly, she lost her balance. He steadied her in one move. “Are you all right?” She did feel rather light-headed. She attempted a half-smile. “Come sit over here. I’ll make you some coffee.” Did Indians drink coffee? She let herself be led to the table, where she sat down. As he bustled around the makeshift kitchen, locating coffee beans and such, she found it odd that the roles were somehow reversed. In an ideal world, she would have been entertaining him, making coffee for him. She was not always ruled by the dictates of society. If a man was kind enough, despite his background, she would have treated him well. “Are you hungry? I have some dried meat and bread here.” “That’s fine.” When he had finally produced two cups of steaming coffee, a few plates with the meat and bread, and set them on the table, he sat down in the chair facing her. She reached for the bread and the meat, munching on the pieces slowly. “I should really thank you for saving me earlier.” #StrangerSunday #historicalromance #Western
Posted on: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 17:06:16 +0000
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