Sacred Is the Wind by Kerry Newcomb Read Free Book Online Page B

Little Shield swerved off the path to avoid a collision and tripped over a surface root. She bruised a shoulder, tumbled, continued to roll until she had regained her footing.
    â€œWhat is the matter with you,” Faith said angrily, rubbing her bruised shoulder.
    â€œDo you want to see us both captured by such a mad one? Would you be a Ute slave? Hurry, you foolish girl!”
    Esther pulled free and pointed back up the trail, her breath rasping.
    â€œRebecca … Where is Rebecca?” Faith turned, noticed there was no one behind them. And the cries of the savage were stilled as if he no longer pursued. And if he no longer pursued, then he had found what he wanted. Faith, though larger and far stronger than Esther, reached out to clutch her friend’s hand.
    Water glistened on their smooth naked flesh as they looked in horror at one another, then down the empty, ominously silent path.
    Rebecca Blue Thrush crouched in a little over three feet of water, enough to cover her nakedness, yet shallow enough to allow her to fight if need be. Her fingers searched, closed around a smooth, fist-sized stone. Her hair splayed upon the water in shining black strands. Panther Burn cautiously approached, the buckskin dress dangling from the muzzle of his Hawken.
    â€œCome no closer, foolish one. I will strike you down and leave you for the men of my village to have sport with,” Rebecca said, hoping she sounded more formidable than she felt. At least she had bought time for the others and allowed them to escape. Panther Burn drew closer, the water came only to the underbelly of his pinto.
    â€œIs this any way for people of the same blood to greet one another?” Panther Burn chuckled.
    â€œThe same blood?” Rebecca warily repeated. She raised the stone, ready to hurl it at him.
    â€œAnd the same star,” Panther Burn gently added. He guided his horse to one side, and turning toward the girl in the shallows, revealed the Morning Star sewn into his hunting shirt.
    Rebecca, realizing he had played a trick, slowly lowered the stone. She grew suddenly aware that the water hid precious little of her nakedness and she attempted to cover herself. Panther Burn tilted his rifle and the buckskin smock slid off the barrel into her anxious grasp. She slid the garment over her head and stood, pulling the dress around her as she rose from the water.
    â€œIt was a good game.” Panther Burn sighed. Naked or clothed, he had never seen such a lovely girl. Coppery smooth was her flesh, her hair a dark cape falling to her waist. The All-Father had fashioned her features with delicacy, spacing the slightly slanted brown eyes, touching the lips pink like the first flush of bitterroot in spring. Panther Burn tried to hide his interest behind a gruff exterior, but Rebecca’s keen gaze had noticed. And now that she was no longer in fear for her life, she too made a brief assessment. What girl would not be attracted to someone so strong-looking, so confident? Though his own attractive features were marred by a kind of arrogance, his black eyes flecked with gold betrayed a deeper quality of introspection that intrigued her.
    â€œCome, girl, I will take you to your village,” he said, leaning forward to extend his left hand. She noticed the raw-looking scar tissue where his little finger had been. She reached up and took hold of his wrist. He braced himself to swing her up behind him. But Rebecca had other ideas. She lunged to her right. The pinto half-reared, dug its hind legs into the rocky bottom. Panther Burn shouted in protest as the reins slipped from his grasp. Water gushed into his open mouth, cutting off his cry. It was his turn to stagger to his feet. Coughing and squinting through blurred vision, he watched as Rebecca, riding his horse, trotted the animal up out of the pond. Panther Burn grabbed one of his eagle feathers as it drifted on the surface of the pond toward the makeshift dam. He sputtered,