Tykota's Woman (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Read Free Book Online Page A

was Sinica that was following them, it wouldn't be long until he picked
up their trail.
    Tykota had to get the woman to safety and then go as quickly as possible to the Mountain
of the Moon. Unrest must be stirring among
his people. They would expect him to be a
strong leader, and he could only pray he was
equal to the task his father had entrusted to
him.

    The sun was no more than a golden glow in the
east when Tykota bent over the woman. In the
dawn light he was startled to see how young she
was. Probably somewhere in her twenties. He
stared at the golden hair curling around her
shoulders, her long lashes lying softly against
her rosy cheeks. Her lips were full, her face
very lovely. He was so overwhelmed by her
delicate beauty that a lump formed in his throat.
At last he touched her shoulder gently to
awaken her.
    Her eyes opened, and they were bluer than
the desert sky. Tykota watched as the confusion in those eyes was replaced with fear. She
sat up quickly and moved away from his
touch.
    "Here," he said, holding food out to her. "Eat
quickly. We must leave right away."
    Makinna stared at the concoction he'd handed
her. "It looks like... like raw plants. I can't
eat this."
    "Then you will go hungry, Mrs. Hillyard,
because there is nothing else to eat."

    She brushed her hair from her face. "What
is it?"
    "The beans are from the mesquite tree and
do not taste so bad. The other is from the
mescal cactus. It would taste better roasted,
but I dare not light a fire, even if we did have
the time."
    She shook her head. "I am not hungry enough
to eat this."
    "As you wish. But you will be," he warned.
"And, as I told you last night, I will not wait for
you if you lag behind."
    She glared at him. "No one asked you to." She
stood slowly, stretching to relieve muscles
cramped from sleeping on the hard ground.
    Her movement was inadvertently provocative,
making her breasts bulge against her gown, and
Tykota quickly glanced away. A primitive
stirring inside him heated his blood. This
stubborn, spirited, outspoken woman was
different from other females he had known. And
he didn't want to feel this way about her. He
didn't even want to like her.
    "You are not in a genteel Southern town out
here, Mrs. Hillyard. At the height of the noon
sun it will be so hot that you could cook meat
without a campfire. We may encounter
rattlesnakes and scorpions and, at the higher
elevations, bears, wolves, or pumas. Can you
face all that, Mrs. Hillyard?"

    She eyed the canteen slung over his shoulder.
"Ask me again after I have a sip of water."
    His mouth curved into a small smile. "You
may have two sips. But no more."
    When he handed her the canteen, she raised
it to her lips, savoring the two sips he allowed
her. Then, wiping her hand across her mouth,
she handed it back. "Can you tell me where
we're going?"
    She watched him, puzzled, as he bent down,
and poured some of their precious water into the
dirt, mixing it into mud. "If I told you, you still
would not know. But, I will say this much: after
today, we will rest in the heat of the day and
travel only by night. It will not be easy."
    "Because of the heat?"
    "Mostly, yes."
    She watched him as he cupped his hands
and scooped up the mud. "What are you
doing?"
    "You will need this on your face so your skin
will not blister."
    "What! Oh, no! You aren't putting mud on my
face."
    "Close your eyes," he commanded.
    She wanted to defy him, but she could see by
his hard expression that to do so would be
futile. She reluctantly closed her eyes in submission. After all, he did know about the
desert, and she didn't. When he finished daub ing her face, she asked, "Does it look as awful as
it feels?"

    Tykota nearly chuckled but quickly became
serious. "If your face baked in the sun, you
would feel much worse." He looked her over
carefully to make sure he'd covered all the
exposed skin. "We will be moving fast, and you
must keep up."
    "You