Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) Read Online Free Page A

only she had stayed at home today as Aunt Cora had wanted her to, she’d be safe.
    What must she do?
    Run!
    Reacting on instinct, Marianna leaped to her feet,deciding to follow the ditch until she came to the thickest part of the woods. Then she might be able to follow the old trail home. With her heart beating so tumultuously it felt as if it would burst through her chest, Marianna ran as fast as her legs would take her. There would be a wide-open space before she reached the thickest part of the woods, but she had to take the chance—the Indians would surely find her if she stayed where she was.
    Hearing a scream, and then a gurgling sound, Marianna paused, tears blinding her. Should she try to help whoever was in trouble? But what could she do?
    Guilt lay heavy on her shoulders. If only she had called out to the others in time, all of them might have made it to safety. She had been cowardly. Taking a deep breath, she moved cautiously through the mud. Just ahead the ditch curved toward the woods. If she could make it that far, she might be safe.
    Turning to gaze back at the picnic area, Marianna managed to gather the courage to raise her head just enough to peek over the embankment—and she wished she hadn’t. Shivering with horror, she saw Lillian’s mother lying sprawled on bloodstained grass; Widow Harkin was slumped against a tree, her mouth open, her eyes staring at nothing. If there were any other bodies, Marianna didn’t see them. But she knew that those who hadn’t made it to the wagons must all be dead.
    Fear and guilt mingled with heavy grief, but what could she have done against an enemy bent on killing innocent people?
    Nothing.
    Fighting a wave of dizziness, she slumped onto the muddy ground, shaking so hard her teeth rattled. Where was Lillian? Marianna hadn’t seen her. She clamped her hands over her ears when she recognized Susan Worthington’s scream. Whimpering, she whispered a quick prayer that the Indians wouldn’t kill her.
    When rational thought finally returned, Marianna realized the Indians would surely see her if she remained where she was.
    It was already too late.
    Marianna froze in terror as one of the Indians jumped into the ditch, waving a bloody tomahawk in her face. The upper part of his face was hideously streaked with black paint. She tried to look away, but those black eyes held her gaze, and she saw her own death.
    In that moment Marianna knew she wanted very badly to live.
    The Indian reached out his bloodstained hand to her, and she backed away. He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her toward him with such force that pain tore through her arm. But pain could not compete with the fear that roared in her mind. Her chest burned, and she finally gasped, realizing she’d been holding her breath.
    The savage climbed out of the ditch and pulled her up beside him with such force that she heard the bone in her arm snap. Biting her lip to keep from screaming, she staggered, falling to the ground in agony.
    The Indian muttered something to one of the others, then half carried and half dragged Mariannatoward the waiting canoes. In the distance, she heard the sound of riders, and knew the soldiers were pouring out of the fort toward them. Glancing back over her shoulder, Marianna realized they would not arrive in time to save her.
    Marianna’s tormentor shoved her into one of the canoes and leaped in beside her as the current pulled them to the middle of the river. She cried out when she saw Susan Worthington and Lillian in other canoes. Hot tears blinded her and she reached out to Susan when the canoe she was in passed so close she could have touched Susan’s hand.
    Her captor’s black eyes narrowed as he hit Marianna a stunning blow with the blunt end of his tomahawk. Pain exploded in her head.
    Everything around her reeled and blackness rolled over her, stealing the light.

Chapter Four
    Marianna awoke slowly, wondering why she felt motion beneath her, and why she felt sick. It