Savage Summer by Constance O'Banyon

Danielle’s rescue. She drew her away from the Indian and spoke to him in the Blackfoot tongue. The Indian looked startled for a moment. His dark eyes raked across Danielle’s face and he stepped back as if the touch of her skin had burned him.
    Joanna put her arm about Danielle’s waist and patted her soothingly. “This is Wolfrunner. He has mistaken you for Sky Dancer. Since you know how much you resemble Sky Dancer, I’m sure you will forgive his mistake. Wolfrunner is much more confused than you are at the moment.”
    Farley dismounted, and led the horses away, laughing aloud. He was clearly amused by the incident.
    Danielle turned back and looked at the Indian who was watching her now with guarded indifference. He was the warrior that Sky Dancer had told her about the day of the picnic. In her mind she quickly assessed the man. He wore buckskin leggings but his body was bare from the waist up.His skin was dark—too dark for her taste. His hair was so black it was almost blue, and his eyes were almost the color of the raven’s wing. Indeed there was a strong handsomeness about him, but not the kind she admired. He was a savage and she vowed she would never allow him to come near her again.
    Before she could utter a word, riders approached the camp, the air suddenly seemed sharp with tension. The Indians that were seated by the campfire stood up as the newcomers drew reins.
    Danielle turned to watch her uncle ride into camp with several of his warriors. He was different than he had been at the picnic. She supposed it was because of his surroundings. She was immediately aware of the fact that he was the kind of man who commanded and received respect. His dark eyes went first to his wife and visibly softened. When he looked at Danielle she saw them sparkle with warmth.
    Dismounting slowly, he walked leisurely toward her. There was nothing about him that incited fear in Danielle. As she looked into his eyes, she read the strangest emotion. Love…Her uncle loved her! How could it be she hadn’t seen that in his eyes at the picnic.
    He didn’t attempt to touch her, but merely smiled slightly. “Danielle, how long I have wanted the chance to get to know you. I feel the part of you that is my dead sister.”
    She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing he was pulling at that part of her that was Indian—awaking her other self, the part that she had denied existence.
    “I am pleased to see you again, Uncle,” she said, surprising herself. Indeed there was a part of her that was thrilled at the chance to get to know, and understand, the man who had been a legend to her. She had heard so much about his daring deeds, she could hardly believe he stood before her in the flesh.
    Windhawk could sense in his niece a great unrest. Knowing it would not be wise to hug her to him as he wanted to do, he turned his attention to Joanna.
    His eyes were so alive and spoke of how he had missed her. “Did it go well for our daughter?” he asked his wife in English for his niece’s benefit.
    “Sky Dancer was apprehensive, but I believe all will be well with her.” Joanna reached out her hand and Windhawk clasped it in his.
    Danielle could feel someone’s eyes burning into her, and she turned to see the Indian Wolfrunner staring at her. When she met his eyes, he turned away and she shivered. Her heart was pounding and she could feel these people pulling at her. She would never allow them to make a savage of her. Her Indian blood had long been denied, but now some part of her felt akin to these people.
    “Come,” her uncle said, holding the tent flap aside for Danielle to enter. Without a backward glance she walked into the tipi, glad to get away from Wolfrunner’s probing eyes.
    There were some kind of skins spread inside the tipi, and Danielle gathered this was where they would sleep. She was weary, and she sank down on one of the soft skins too tired to think or reason. The very worst had already happened to her. She would be