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watched him, sympathy painted on his kindly face. Standing Bear avoided his eyes and swiftly mounted his pony. He didn't need his friend's sympathy. He needed a good kick in the ass for letting himself want this woman enough to spoil the trading mission, ruin his status in the tribe, and haunt his body and spirit to the point of physical pain. For already, he felt the pangs of her absence, deep in his gut.
     
    He had accepted Black Crow's ultimatum, but he didn't have to like it. His only consolation was that, in the end, he'd have this woman back. One way or another, he would have her back. On this he swore his life.
     
    "Indians up ahead!"
     
    The shout came from an outrider galloping along the line of wagons, spreading the wagonmaster's orders. Sally's heart stalled, then beat double-time in her breast. Indians? He just wouldn't give up...
     
    "Stay next to yer wagons and stash all weapons!" the outrider, Jeb, yelled as he continued down the line. "It's a friendly scouting party comin' to organize a trade in a few days, and Mr. Dexter don't want no trouble! Jest act like they ain't even thar!"
     
    Yeah, sure. If it was Standing Bear, she could ignore him like she could ignore a bad case of the hives.
     
    He'd been hunting her for four days now -- or four nights, to be strictly accurate. Ever since he'd let her go.
     
    The first night, it had been her own shameless body that had summoned his memory, dreaming of his touch, endlessly reliving the ecstasy they'd shared that day by the stream. In one erotic dream after another all through the night, he touched her and kissed her and made passionate love to her, until she'd awakened in a haze of sublimely sated frustration.
     
    Lord, she wanted him back.
     
    If he had called then, she would have gone. Like Ulysses to the siren's song, she would have succumbed to the lure of his potent sexual appeal, sacrificing all else -- her judgment, her good reputation, and more than likely her very life -- to the hedonistic pleasures she knew he would gift her with.
     
    Luckily, she'd come to her senses.
     
    She was shameless! And he was a dangerous brute who wanted only to tear her away from her only family and the new life she sought at the end of the trail West.
     
    The next night the birdcalls had started. The ones she knew were really him. Deep in the dead of night they had come. First softly, then more insistent. She'd firmly covered her ears and buried her head under the coat she used as a pillow.
     
    "Oh, Sally, I'm so frightened!"
     
    Alyssa's long fingers painfully clutching her arm brought Sally back to the present with a start. She gathered her wits.
     
    "Don't be silly. Jeb said it was a friendly trading party. "
     
    Her sister had no idea just how friendly. At least, one of them.
     
    "But everyone knows all Indians are bloodthirsty savages!"
     
    Alyssa'd been talking to Ernie again. The man was a terrible influence. Her sister wasn't normally so wrongfully unjust. Not even back on the slave plantations in Virginia had Alyssa had an unkind word for any man, regardless of his color.
     
    "Sis, they're just people like you and me. You'd be mad, too, if they took away Gramma's farm and stampeded buffalo through all the crops. "
     
    Alyssa stared at her as if she'd grown horns. "What are you talking about? We're about to be scalped in our sleep and you're talking about buffalo on Gramma's farm?"
     
    Sally gave her sister a hug. Ernie must have spun some pretty gruesome tales. And heaven knew, they were probably true. But she'd take her chances with the Indians rather than put up with Ernie's brand of self-important swaggering.
     
    "Lys, Mr. Dexter would have had us circle the wagons if there was any danger. "
     
    That seemed to mollify Alyssa. "Still, I think I'll ride in the wagon with the Tompkins' for a while. Come with me? Please?"
     
    "No. I'm not afraid and the poor oxen have enough to pull without adding me to the weight. "
     
    Sally trudged on,