"So, what happens now?" she finally asked with a slight sigh.
"You must go with me."
"How will I survive in an Indian camp?" Her voice echoed her depression.
He hung his head now then stared out on the prairie. "We live on reservation land, and if the white people knew you were there they would take you away. Do you want this?"
She walked about, her eyes going over the moonlit land, her heart heavy. "No… I have nowhere to go… I want my freedom, but I know not where to go. I have no money, no people to speak of. That is why I have not run away before now."
"Then you will stay with me," He insisted.
"But, if I stay, what will happen to me."
He walked away from her once more. "You— would be my slave… "
"Your slave?" she repeated, turning to stare at him. She rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you should kill me and be done with it. I have been a slave nearly all my life." Her voice became dull now.
When he said nothing, she stared.
He was built magnificently, and his face was very handsome, but his slave?
Had she run from one impossible situation to another? Was there no relief.
He whirled around, his brow furrowed, "You only have one other option, and you won't like it any better than the other."
She stared, "What other option?"
"You could be… my wife… " he offered cautiously.
Her mouth fell open and she was near tears, but she didn't let them fall. Again, the same as Liam offered, marriage, but to an Indian?
"I cannot," she muttered miserably.
"It is your choice."
"You don't understand." She stared at him now, wanting him to understand. "I was his wife… I still am. You're taking me does not change that."
"Only by white law, not by Indian law."
She studied him closer now, "Why would you want me for a wife, you know nothing about me."
"I know you were beaten by your white husband regularly. I know you did not cry out, or talk back, you took the beatings like a warrior. I saw this… "
She shook her head and walked away, wondering how she could trade one for another like this. "I take beatings, so you want me as you slave, to take more beatings. It is a vicious circle that I cannot escape." She almost laughed, "A warrior? It sounds strange to be compared to a warrior. My father beat me too, for talking back. I guess I finally learned not to."
He stared, his hand came to rest under her chin, it was warm, and firm and gentle. "I would not beat you. Whether you are my slave or my wife."
"How did you learn such perfect English?" She suddenly asked trying to distract herself from his nearness.
"I went to mission school." He answered swiftly. "I enjoyed learning. The Quaker teachers were good to me because I liked the lessons."
"Do you have other wives?" She blurted, still thinking of what he asked.
"No… " he glanced at her again. "It is against the white man's law to have more than one wife. Our tribe obeys the laws."
"Why me, why not an Indian wife for you?" she came closer as he built a fire now. "Is there something wrong with you?"
A sexy smile curled his lips, as he turned to her, "Do you see anything wrong?"