Never Surrender Read online

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  While she waited for their order, Kate glanced at Brandon. The dark T-shirt he wore fit him like a second skin. She moistened her lips.

  A gorgeous smiled crossed his face. “I feel as though we’ve already met. It’s uncanny,” he said.

  “I don’t want you to think I always allow strangers in my car, but...I also had that same feeling. I’m comfortable with you. Thank you for going out to the basin with me.”

  The cheerful woman inside passed Kate the hot drinks. When Brandon took his cup, his fingers happened to cover Kate’s and an electric shock traveled up her arm, straight to her heart. She nearly jerked her hand away, and hoped he hadn’t noticed. Those same warm feelings from her dream came rushing back, the one’s she’d felt when she’d dreamt of the warrior upon his horse. The similarities between Brandon and the warrior stunned her.

  Steam seeped through the hole in the lid. She took small sips of the delicious latte and headed toward the petroglyphs using Brandon’s direction.

  Kate drove south as she rolled down her window while current cattle prices echoed from the radio, but her thoughts were on the man beside her and how fate worked the events in her life lately. “I’d like to be able to take some valuable information back to the museum with me about the rock drawings.”

  “They are said to be thousands of years old. Some of the elders still come here for their rituals.”

  Clouds filled the afternoon sky. Darker ones floated above the distant, snow-capped mountains. She could detect rain beneath them, or possibly snow, forming an eerie mist that cloaked the high mountaintops. Out here, the weather seemed to change quickly. A sudden drop in temperature cooled the interior of Kate’s car, making her glad she’d worn a sweatshirt. Her jacket lay on the back seat should she need it during her walk among the rocks.

  She turned right onto the narrow road leading up over a hill and into a small open meadow filled with tall grasses, sagebrush and pink, spotted knapweed. This is where she’d seen the painted boulder earlier and pulled off the trail, parking near the huge rock. The quiet wilderness cloaked Kate with a sense of serenity as she enjoyed the hot latte. Jagged, red rocky hills on the right jutted into the sky, some areas being smoothed by weather over time, others were sharp protruding crags. She wondered if petroglyphs would be there also.

  “This area is filled with ancient drawings.” Brandon sipped his coffee.

  Kate snapped her head around to look at him. Could he possibly read her thoughts? His seductive voice distracted her. Before he could see her reaction, she stepped from the SUV. Grabbing her jacket, she shut the door, and glanced in the opposite direction. Brandon shut his door.

  Dead silence.

  No horseback riders roamed in the vicinity, not even antelope or big horn sheep, though a crow cawed in the distance, then quickly flew away. The wind blew her hair into her face and she brushed it away.

  Dark clouds descended over the meadow as the cool wind increased, and blew through Kate’s sweatshirt, sending chills down her spine. Setting her cup on the hood of the car, she shrugged into her green canvas jacket and pulled the collar about her neck.

  Brandon looked up. “Storms out here come upon us fast.”

  He now stood beside her, pointing out the area and she realized how tall he was. “Many of the drawings are up along the higher hills. You have to go up there if you want to see them, but its well worth the hike. Tribes would come here and paint their drawings of deer, buffalo and other tribesmen of their time. Most of these are thousands of centuries old yet have withstood the weather through centuries. Stories can be put to some paintings while others depict the fun nature of the Native American and their way of life.”

  “Are there any down here?” Kate asked.

  “Some, but you really have to look. Not all the sites are marked for the tourists. It’s said many lovers also came here to paint together, to enjoy the serenity of the basin.”

  Brandon placed his hand on Kate’s shoulder, leaned closer and pointed up into the hills at more rock pictures. Kate followed the direction of his finger while at the same time enjoying his closeness. She took a step closer to him to see better where he pointed. Peacefulness settled inside Kate. A comfort level if that was possible with a stranger she’d only met today.

  She strode toward the huge boulder. A four-foot tree grew not more than ten inches away on the left side, its leaves fluttering in the wind. “Look, the tree’s branches grow on the opposite side of the rock, yet none grow next to the boulder, as if it has somehow prevented the tree’s growth.”

  Glancing at the swift-moving dark clouds, Kate pulled the collar of her jacket tighter around her neck. Wind whipped through the tall grasses around her, whispering a dangerous message of its own; possibly the spirits telling her to leave while she could.

  “There are many things in this basin that can’t be explained. Many of my people believe some of the warriors’ spirits still live here. Can you sense it?”

  Dare she tell him that she could definitely feel it? She listened intently as he told her of the area and his people. She wondered what it might have been like in this area so many years ago. Brandon interested her and she wanted to learn more about him. He had a reverence about him as he talked of his people. She immediately respected him for that. “I can feel there’s a quiet difference here. It’s almost eerie.”

  Stepping toward a stone, she knelt in front of it, and sat on her heels. Running her fingers up the boulder-side of the small tree trunk, the smooth bark held no protrusion of previous branches, as though the tree knew better than to thrust an intruding arm toward the rock. To Kate, a few of the rock pictures resembled creatures from outer space more than they did ancient Indian drawings but they were all interesting.

  The centuries-old paintings on the granite beckoned her. She touched the cold, bumpy rock, her fingers caressing the ancient elk and big horn sheep drawings. Though the force of the cool wind increased, the stone seemed to grow warm beneath her hand.

  Lightning flashed across the sky; thunder boomed in the distance.

  When she placed both hands on the warm petroglyphs, an immediate dizziness overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes, not understanding why, but knowing she needed to. A radiating sensation crept up her arms, questing into her body as if trying to find a perch. She tried to remove her hands, but couldn’t. They were well and truly stuck. Thunder crackled again and the wind increased. Her breathing tore through her lungs fast and hard. She tried to calm herself with sane thoughts of home. This was just a dream. No more, no less. When stray tendrils of hair stung her face as they escaped her braid, she had to face reality. This was not a dream.

  The dizziness grew, swirling inside her body like an arrow shot in a circular storm. Higher and higher, faster and faster it swam insider her. There was no beginning or no end to the torment. The swirling would keep on going forever unless she could stop it. But how? Her fingers tightened on the boulder. Was this the strength of the spirits in this basin? Were they trying to tell her something? Perhaps to leave the area? Kate winced at the sensation drifting over her, depleting her ability to fight off the impending sense of helplessness. The wind circled around her, and she tried to open her eyes, to take her hands from the rock again, but the dizziness pulled her further into its dark abyss. She wanted to cry out for help but her lips wouldn’t form the words.

  She wondered again if it was the warriors’ spirits taking hold of her. Suddenly the dream images appeared behind her closed eyes. The warrior beckoned her, but this time nudged his horse and moved toward her. She could see how blue his eyes were and their gazes connected. She wanted to know more when it all disappeared with another crack of thunder. No! She had to see the rest of the dream!

  Her mind went blank. She couldn’t pull her hands away and panic replaced fear. Had she made a mistake in coming here, digging into something that may be better left alone? Kate chided herself on always wanting to push the envelope, to know more than perhaps she
should be seeking. She should not have tempted fate by touching the rocks and this was the spirit world’s way of telling her.

  Then still with her eyes closed, visions of an Indian raid appeared. They attacked a wagon train of settlers, fighting for their lives, men protecting their women and children. She could almost hear their screams; almost feel the arrows tear at her flesh.

  Then it was too late.

  Something hard and unforgiving smashed into her forehead. The pain was swift and sharp. “Brandon . . .” she cried out in a hoarse voice. Then the swirling blackness that had tried to consume her finally did.

  She couldn’t seem to sit upright and her head hit against the rock, blackness consuming her.

  Chapter Two

  1835, Rocky Mountains

  Suddenly a mass confusion of guns, flying arrows and hair-raising screams surrounded Kate as fear exploded in her brain. Raiding Indians attacked frightened people dressed in pioneer-type clothing, running in all directions. Arrow-riddled bodies lay scattered around her. Savage war cries rent the dust-clouded air.

  Kate shook her head, bewildered. She’d wake up shortly, wouldn’t she? The bullets and arrows whizzing by her head seemed so real, and she stood smack in the middle of it.

  Taking a deep breath to control her state of panic, she glanced all around her. Being abducted by rampaging Indians didn’t appeal to her, dream or no dream.

  Behind her, more screams rose above the confusion while she ducked to avoid the arrows flying past her. Gunfire from the settlers made her cover her ears. She needed to find shelter. Quickly scanning the area again, she spotted covered wagons across the way and dug in the heels of her snakeskin boots as she sprinted toward them, still dodging arrows and horses alike. Fear ignited her adrenaline like a stick of dynamite; she had to make it around the wagon’s far side.

  Kate turned her head to see a painted warhorse galloping toward her. Though she met the mounted warrior’s fierce dark eyes for the briefest of moments, she would never forget the horrid scar that slashed through his brow and down his cheek, missing his eye. Holding up his rifle, he shrieked a battle cry, and urged his horse forward. Kate barely escaped his far-reaching arm as she ducked and forced herself to run faster. Another warrior let out a cry as he held up a woman’s bloodied scalp of long dark hair--his war trophy from among the many dead bodies. She prayed not to be their next victim.

  Darting around the wagon with relief, she leaned against its solid wooden side, her chest heaving with every breath. Her raw throat made her cough and she struggled to moisten her dry, dust-coated lips.

  Where could she possibly be in this day and age that Indians would be shooting arrows at her? This had to be another dream, a very vivid dream, and she wanted it to end. Why was this continuing rather than her waking up?

  She brushed back her hair just in time to see an arrow being aimed straight toward her. As she jumped away from the wagon, the arrow slammed into the wood, narrowly missing her shoulder. Now she stood in the open. The swirling dust choked and blinded her.

  From behind, pounding horse hooves vibrated the ground beneath her boots. A muscular arm snaked out from nowhere, lifted her onto his horse and back against a rock-hard chest. She twisted her head only to meet the gaze of the scarred warrior’s.

  “Noooo! Put me down!” She kicked and scratched frantically, but he held fast. She had to wake up from this nightmare, yet the terror was too real; his chest too hard. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t scream. Fear gripped her as the horse galloped away amongst five other mounted warriors while she was jostled about, thinking she’d be tossed and trampled beneath the massive hooves.

  In front of her, arrows penetrated the backs of two of the warriors, and they fell from their horses. She stretched to look back over her captor’s shoulder. Two more Indians thundered toward them with bows drawn. These Indians differed from her captors, but she couldn’t say how.

  Kate screamed as the two released their arrows at her and her captor.

  One struck the scarred Indian’s leg, tumbling them from his horse. The fall knocked the wind from her lungs as she rolled several times, stunning her, but she somehow managed to get to her feet. Her life depended on it. She staggered across the open meadow toward the edge of the forest as fast as she could muster, knowing the other two Indians were close behind.

  In less than five strides, she was lifted onto another horse, and they galloped off into the trees and up the ascending mountainside. Her new captors changed direction once they were deep in the woods, and swiftly traveled along the land, neither climbing, nor descending. Kate dodged branches as the horse moved through the trees. Foliage gave way to a green, open meadow again.

  She estimated they’d traveled over an hour and not once had this Indian loosened his hold on her. His warm, bronzed hand splayed across her stomach, his fingers extending to the other side of her ribs as she rode in front of him, his hard thighs resting beneath her own.

  His nearness created a sense of deja vu, yet that was absurd. She thought of the stranger in the brown duster, unable to understand what the two would have in common. Her mind reeled with thoughts and the past excitement still raced through her body as though she’d just finished a race. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but being held so close, yet wanting to escape.

  Shaking off the eerie foreboding, she gazed out over the meadow, tracking their direction. For the moment, Kate rode in silence until they stopped. Still not a sound could be heard but the rushing of blood through her veins.

  She glanced toward the distant, snow-peaked mountains where the sun descended, taking with it most of the day’s light and leaving the promise of a cool evening.

  Defeated and scared, she thought about the massacre of those left behind, of the one whose scalp had been cut away--something she wouldn’t soon forget. A warm tear slipped down her cheek for those who’d died. These savages could easily make her their victim and though she had to escape somehow, she refused to give them a reason to kill her right now. Why was she forced to endure this? When would she wake up?

  Ahead, dense trees hugged the hillsides, yet allowed for large, open areas of grass and sagebrush to spread invitingly across small valleys. A herd of buffalo grazed to the left near the river. Their large numbers amazed her when buffalo were nearly extinct.

  She stilled, trying to push away the thought that beat at her, but it wouldn’t abate. Could she have been thrust back in time? She chewed at the inside of her cheek, feeling the pain yet making it real enough...as did the hard chest against her back, but certainly it couldn’t be real. Yet here she was.

  Two thoughts nagged at her as she rode within a stranger’s grasp; alone, with one other warrior, as dusk closed in around them. As absurd as it sounded, even to her, she could have traveled back through the passage of time. It frightened her, yet at the same time, excited her. This familiar feeling she sensed, with the man who now held her and the stranger in the Mercantile, played havoc with her mind. Perhaps if this was a dream, she’d now have the answers she sought.

  Again, anger tormented her when she thought about the senseless massacre by the Indians. They hated whites and killed without thought or mercy, yet here she sat in the arms of a warrior, sensing such a familiarity. She couldn’t explain it and wanted desperately to know the answer.

  When her captors stopped, they were at a spot Kate assumed had been their current camp. Bedding and skin-pouches sat about the ground and around the fire pit.

  After the man dismounted, she was yanked from the horse and attempted to yank her arm from his grasp, without success. “I won’t go with you!”

  He laughed at her, then glanced at his friend. His companion led the horses away, leaving the two of them alone, staring at one another, though darkness shadowed his eyes. She refused to be the first to back down, though she knew better, but couldn’t resist.

  Dusk settled around them, but she could see he wore a wide strip of deerskin across his forehead, holding back his long, dark
hair that hung forward, draping over his bare chest. A breechcloth joined fringed leggings, and beaded moccasins covered his feet. A strip of deerskin stretched above the muscle of each upper arm, the ties hanging to his elbows.

  Apprehensive, she stared back at the warrior as he observed her jeans and sweatshirt with interest. He knelt down and caressed the snakeskin of her boot. A smile continued to curve his lips as he shook his head. Still, shadows covered his eyes.

  She waited for him to make the first move.

  He did.

  He released her arm and walked a few steps away, heading for the copse of trees, but she didn’t follow. Then he spun around, pointed up the mountain toward the trees and waited for her to move. She took a few steps in his direction, so he turned and walked ahead of her.

  Immediately, she ran in the opposite direction as fast as she could; or so she thought. After twenty strides, a muscular arm encircled her waist and a hand covered her mouth as her feet lifted off the ground.

  Damn him!

  Kicking and screaming behind his hand, she struggled as he effortlessly strode into the trees. If she wiggled enough, he’d have to drop her. She was so enraged at being restrained that she paid little attention to the path he took.

  Since this had to be a dream, she could be as brave as she wanted, Kate mused. She tried to bite the hand covering her mouth. She’d had enough!

  “Kaisuanten taipo wa’ippe!” Agitation laced his deep voice as his warm breath touched her ear before depositing her in front of a cold fire pit.

  He’d likely told her to be still. Which she certainly wouldn’t be doing!

  Her heart ceased its beating as his gaze shot through her. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, there was no mistaking his threat. His voice created a shiver that ran the length of her spine, tightening every muscle in her body. Kate struggled for another breath. The image of the warrior from her dream materialized in her mind. Could it be him? But how would that be possible? Perhaps her nightmare had been a warning and not one she should have pursued!