Fletcher's Woman. Carol Finch

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      “I have tainted Papa’s good name and I feel terribly guilty about it. But every law officer and vigilante in the area will expect me to take refuge with Papa,” she countered. “I’m also aware that I can’t remain in the Arbuckles indefinitely without endangering you and my friends.”

      Suddenly, Savanna felt as though the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. She’d become a woman without a home. False rumors convinced white society that she had committed murder. She was compromising the safety of every Chickasaw who had tried to hide her. She’d dared to take on one of the most powerful ranchers in the region. All she had to show for her courageous efforts were a high price on her head and dozens of bloodthirsty mercenaries dogging her footsteps.

      Her good deed was not without serious repercussions, she realized deflatedly.

      Morningstar shifted restlessly from one moccasined foot to the other, then stared into the flickering flames of their small fire. “You took on a very treacherous man, my child. Our people were suspicious of Oliver Draper when his first Chickasaw wife died six months after the wedding ceremony.”

      It was common knowledge that Draper had taken advantage of the law stating that any white man who married a Chickasaw woman was legally entitled to her property.

      “Oliver is the prime example of a white opportunist,” Savanna agreed. “If he had set his sights on me as his next conquest, I would have run screaming in the opposite direction.”

      Unfortunately, the naive Chickasaw widow who’d become Oliver’s second wife—and who owned twice as much tribal property as the first wife—ignored the danger. She’d fallen for his pretentious charm and married Oliver. He’d quickly expanded his ranch operation. He’d also set up toll roads and bridges on his property, which was in a prime location. He’d forced traders, military supply wagons and other travelers to pay up or take the long way around his sprawling ranch.

      “Oliver is conniving and manipulative, and he spawned a son who was as brutal as Oliver is greedy,” Morningstar remarked.

      Savanna heaved a disheartened sigh. “I’ve made a mess of my crusade. Has no one seen or heard from Willow this week?”

      “No, and my daughter would not want to see you hurt in your attempt to go up against the Drapers,” Morningstar said brokenly. Tears flooded her onyx eyes then slid down her cheeks. “I need to know what has become of her…and yet, I’m afraid to find out. But I don’t want to sacrifice your safety, Savvy. You are like a daughter to me.”

      Helpless rage coiled inside Savanna. She wanted an explanation for Willow’s disappearance. If Willow was hiding in shame or had arrived to confront Roark after Savanna left, she needed to know the whole story. If something terrible had happened to Willow, Savanna wanted to see justice served, even if white society often lacked concern and sympathy for Indians.

      To her way of thinking, whites had been taking advantage of Indian tribes in a dozen different ways for decades. Their women suffered at the hands of ruthless white men. Their warriors were slaughtered or captured. Their children were made to feel less than human and they were treated disrespectfully. Their land had been stripped away and they’d been confined, monitored like prisoners and starved into submission.

      Savanna had lived among the Chickasaw long enough to feel their pain, their suffering and their frustration. She’d become one of them, thanks to Willow and Morningstar’s indoctrination. She understood how they thought and she’d become an instructor at the academy so she could help Indian women become independent and acclimated to white society. She wanted to be one of the few whites—like her father—who stood up for tribal rights and made sure their collective voice was heard.

      Savanna had also undertaken the unenviable task of investigating Willow’s disappearance, as well as the premature deaths of Oliver Draper’s two Chickasaw wives. When the images of Oliver and Roark sprang to mind, Savanna frowned pensively. An illusive thought niggled her, but she couldn’t figure out why instinct warned her that she’d overlooked something important about Oliver and Roark Draper. Something about them—

      “I think you should appeal to the Texas Ranger for help,” Morningstar advised, breaking into Savanna’s thoughts. “He is part Indian and he is the best chance you have at protection.”

      “I told him my side of the story, but he wasn’t particularly receptive. In fact, he left me tied up and he ventured down the mountain to parley with Draper’s newest brigade of hired guns. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he made arrangements that were in his best interest. Not mine.”

      “I’m disappointed to hear that,” Morningstar said. “I expected more from one of my own kind. But perhaps he had another reason for approaching the vigilantes that we haven’t considered.”

      “Perhaps, but this series of disasters has taught me to trust no one but you and Papa.” Savanna grabbed her tin cup then doused the fire. “I’m wasting daylight and I have crucial decisions to make.”

      “Running and hiding indefinitely will not make the problem go away,” Morningstar murmured as she gathered her gear.

      “No, but it’s keeping me alive,” Savanna maintained.

      “Not much of a life, not with every bounty hunter, lawman and vigilante prowling our mountains in search of you.”

      Savanna faced her substitute mother directly. “I need information. I can think of only one place to get it.”

      “No!” Morningstar erupted in objection. “If you’re thinking of going to Draper Ranch, that is suicide!”

      “Not if I’m careful.”

      “Careful is not good enough,” Morningstar said fretfully. “Invisible would be best. Despite all your survivalist training, you cannot become the wind.”

      Although Savanna wasn’t anxious to leave the familiar haunts in the mountains or Morningstar, who’d become her guardian angel during her life on the run, she needed a plan. Despite what Morningstar thought, Savanna was reluctant to put her faith in Fletcher Hawk…unless she ran clean out of options. Although the brawny Ranger unwillingly fascinated her, she didn’t dare listen to the foolish whispers of her heart. She had to rely on her practiced skills and intellect.

      One misstep and she would be the wind… Because she’d be dead and gone.

      Oliver Draper slouched at the desk in his office at his ranch house and scowled sourly.

      “Natalie! Fetch me some whiskey from the wine cellar!”

      The housekeeper, Natalie Chambers, poked her head around the corner. Her dark gaze was cool and remote. “Yes, sir.”

      When the heavyset Indian woman strode off, Oliver swore foully. It was costing him a fortune to track down the elusive Savanna Cantrell and he had nothing to show for his investment.

      “How can a dozen men have such difficulty locating that woman? Because you can’t get good help these days, not unless you pay a premium,” he admitted grudgingly.

      But whatever it took, no matter what it cost, he’d have Savanna and her father right where he wanted them. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He glanced up to see the housekeeper enter with a whiskey bottle. She gave him an impersonal glance as she handed him the liquor and a note.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ