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

didn't put mud on your face," she
objected.
    "I do not need it."
    "May I ask you one more question, Mr.
Silverhorn?" she persisted.
    He cast her a look of impatience and turned
and walked away.
    She hurried to catch up with him. "Will you
explain to me about your names?" she asked,
practically running to keep pace with him.
    "Ty Silverhorn is what I am called in your
white world."
    "And Tykota?" she pronounced carefully,
thinking the name suited him because it
sounded powerful and masculine. "What does
it mean?"
    He glanced sideways at her. "Do you always
talk this much?"
    "No, Mr. Silverhorn. But I have been very
much on my own lately, with no one to talk to."
    He was quiet for a time, and just when she
thought he wasn't going to answer her, he said
softly, "Tykota means `the chosen one.'"

    Since he didn't seem inclined to talk, she
lapsed into silence. Besides, it took all her
strength just to keep up with him. After a while,
she lagged behind, and she found herself
observing the way his white shirt was plastered
to his skin with sweat. She could see the muscles
ripple across his back, and the black hair falling
over his shoulders fascinated her. Her gaze
dropped to the gun belt strapped about his
narrow waist. No bow and arrow for this Indian,
she mused.
    As the morning wore on, Makinna found
herself falling farther and farther behind. At last,
she could not take another step, and the sun was
so hot, she could hardly draw a breath. She was
hungry and wished she had eaten the plants
Tykota had offered her that morning.
    She was grateful when he stopped and turned
back toward her, waiting for her to catch up with
him.
    "I told you I would not wait for you. I mean
it." His dark eyes were stormy.
    "I know," she gasped. "I am trying my best to
keep up."
    His gaze seemed to soften, and he slowed his
pace a bit to allow her to catch her breath. She
did not complain, but the day was young and she
was already struggling just to breathe.
    Tykota halted again. "Take off those
contraptions that hold you in."
    Her eyes rounded in horror at the very thought of removing her undergarments.
"Surely you aren't suggesting that I-" She
shook her head, utterly shocked. "Sir, that I
will not do."

    Tykota glared at her. "You will either take
them off, or l will do it for you."
    She spun away from him and took several
hurried steps away. "You wouldn't dare!"
    The look he gave her implied that he would.
    "I... will do it," she said, giving in with ill
grace. "But you will have to turn your back."
    "I am going to scout ahead. When I return, I
will expect you to be ready."
    She watched him leave, wishing she could hit
him with one of the many stones that littered the
ground. He was insufferable.
    Waiting until he was out of sight, she
unhooked her gown and struggled out of her
corset. Holding the device in front of her, she
wondered what to do with it. Finally she
refastened her gown and and carefully hid the
offending garment under some rocks and
shrubbery, mindful of Tykota's warnings that
they might be followed. She had to admit that
she could breathe easier, but she felt positively
indecent.
    When Tykota returned later, he asked what
she had done with the discarded undergarment. When she showed him, he nodded in
approval and began walking. She fell into step
beside him, and after a while she smiled to her self, feeling far freer without the tight corset,
although she would not admit it to him.

    He glanced down at her, and she thought for
a moment that he, too, was smiling. But his
jaw tightened, and she realized she must be
mistaken.
    Then he said, "Admit you feel better."
    She was glad for the mud on her face, or he
would have seen her blush. She lowered her
gaze so he couldn't read her eyes. "My mother
would have been horrified to see me abandon
my... MY..."
    "Undergarment," he finished for her.
    "A gentleman would never make mention of
anything so delicate in front of a lady,