Savage
Heart is the sequel to Indian Summer that several people have been
anticipating for way too long. I keep telling myself I'll finish it,
but I haven't yet. My friend, Gwen, has been patient with me, but
she's anxious for the book to be finished so that she can read it. “I
wanna know what happened to that Indian man!” Here's a taste, Gwen
(and others)
Sailfish
stirred up the fire and started water boiling and Meli still hadn't
called him. Concerned about her, he left the fire, walking to her
position. She squatted by the tree, pants at her ankles, strangely
unmoving.
"Help,"
she said in a small, tight voice.
In
front of her and slightly to her left, a snake reared its head,
hissing at her. Its tail rattled, showing its displeasure.
With
a swift movement, Sailfish grabbed it behind the head, breaking its
neck. Dead snake dangling from his right hand, he held out the left
to help her up. Embarrassed to be caught without her pants, she tried
every way she could think of to stand up without him seeing her
nudity.
Smirking,
Sailfish kindly averted his eyes, still holding out his hand. "You
should have checked the brush before squatting," he told her as
he lifted her to her feet.
"Sorry.
We had dogs at home. Snakes weren't often a problem, and certainly
not by the latrine."
"Next
time, check."
"Next
time I'll know to." She smiled her thanks, blushing.
The
blood tinging her cheeks made a dusky pink when it mixed with her
cafe au lait complexion. It was a pretty shade, he noted in passing.
Much the same, rich color as the petals of the roses outside the
Governor's home.
"I
have seen naked women before, little one," he remarked casually,
trying to put her at ease.
"But
no man has seen me naked," she countered, lifting her
chin defiantly.
Smiling,
Sailfish nodded acceptance of that remark.
"What
are you cooking?" Meli's eyes sparkled happily at the prospect
of food.
"Rattlesnake,"
he held up his victim. It was nearly as long as he was tall.
Shuddering,
Meli squatted on the ground by the fire, warming her hands. "It
is any good?"
"It
is the way I fix it."
Taking
it aside, he cleaned his kill with his knife. He cooked the snake
over the coals, splitting equally with her. She ate hungrily, eyes
glittering with appreciation. Smacking her lips, she looked around
for more. Finding none, she contented herself with a blade of grass
to chew on. Placing it between her teeth, she grinned at him.
"It
was tasty. You're a good cook. I'm a good cook too. One day I'll fix
a meal for you."
"A
man on his own learns to feed himself." He shrugged as he rose
to wash the dishes.
"I'll
do that," she got to her feet, hardly seeming to mind the cuts
and scratches.
Limping
only slightly, she washed everything, drying them with tufts of
grass. Presenting him the clean dishes, Meli smiled, her green eyes
catching the morning light off the water.
"Thank
you again. You saved my life. Twice."
"You're
welcome. We need to get moving if we're to reach St. Augustine."
"St.
Augustine? I've never been there, but I hear it's a wonderful place.
Is it amazing?"
Meli
walked backwards, facing him as he moved slowly along. Her short legs
took two paces to his one. Shortening his stride, he tossed his long
hair over his shoulder. Meli's eyes traveled the length and breadth
of his body, taking in details from the decorative long hair, to his
tattooed torso and long, moccasin covered feet.
"It
is a town. Exciting if you've never seen one."
"Only
a town or two in the Carolinas, but from a distance."
"You're
English?" It was hard to keep the displeasure from his voice.
His run ins with Englishmen of late had left a bad taste in his
mouth.
Meli
looked as revolted as he at the aspersion. "Mon Dieu, non!
Papa was a slave from Jamaica. Mama was French and Indian. My
brothers, sisters and I were all born free," she stated proudly.
Sailfish
had to admit that given her lineage, claiming her freedom was very
important. Having never been enslaved, he could only imagine how much
more she treasured her freedom than he did. Although her father was a
slave, her mother was free, making them free at birth.
"You're
very fortunate. Many can't say the same."
"You're
a slave yourself," she said in that oddly perceptive way she
had.
"I
am a free man of the River People," he countered angrily.
"Slave
isn't the right word." Meli thought a moment, considering
carefully. "You're trapped. Your heart is captive even if your
body is free."
He
glared at her, his dark eyes full of hurt and anger. Saying nothing,
he lengthened his stride, pulling ahead of her so she had to trot to
catch up. Gasping for breath after only a few yards, she doubled
over.
"Wait.
Wait!" Hands on knees, head drooping, she gasped hoarsely.
Sailfish
stopped, waiting impatiently for Meli to catch her breath and join
him. He slowed down again, knowing that if he pushed her, she'd never
make it and they would camp another night or he'd be carrying her.
Neither prospect made him very happy, nor did her penetrating manner.
They
walked a long time in silence. Finally, Meli broke it by speaking as
if there hadn't been an hour long gap.
"I
upset you. I'm sorry."
Her
fingers, strangely cool, brushed his bare arm sending a shiver up his
spine. He shrugged again, unwilling to trust his voice.
"She's
in town?"
Glaling
over his shoulder at her, Sailfish walked on without answering. Meli
stopped, hands on hips, yelling at him.
"Where
I come from, when someone asks you a question, you answer them."
"Where
I come from," he tossed over his shoulder. "People don't
ask such rude and impertinent questions."
A
stick hit him squarely in the back of the head. Turning, to meet the
attack, he crouched, his hand going to his knife. Meli stood behind
him, hands on her hips in the same pose. Except to throw the stick,
she hadn't moved.
"My
legs hurt. I need to rest."
Sailfish
strode over to her, standing with his toes touching hers, leaning
over menacingly. He was nearly two feet taller than she. Meli looked
up at him, her glare meeting his.
"Don't
ever do that again." His tone was menacing, his voice deep.
"How
else do I get your attention? You ignore me when I speak!"
©
2016 Dellani Oakes
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