Read Online Surrender to Love by Julia Templeton - Free Book Online Page B

on hips. The woman pursed her lips together and spat once more, this time hitting Jordan's arm. Adding insult to injury, the woman took a long, sharp stick and poked Jordan hard in the ribs. Shocked to find one of her own abusing her, Jordan could do little but try and shield herself. Lowering her head, she ignored the woman as she continued her attack. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood, trying to envision her ranch on a summer day--thinking of the horses she would breed and train. As Jordan had hoped, the woman, finally tired of the one-sided game, stopped and joined a group at the large fire who were laughing at her expense.
    What a cold-hearted bunch, Jordan thought, her blurry gaze moving over the circle of people. Her body ached from the torture she'd endured. Every inch was covered with scrapes and bruises. She had never harmed one hair on their heads. So why then were they so determined to see her suffer?
    She squinted. A young white girl sat among the savages. Jordan wondered if she belonged to one of the other white women, but seeing no white men among them, she had to wonder if she had been taken captive as well. The girl's small face was a solemn mask as though she was in a trance, and then as though sensing her scrutiny, she glanced up and met Jordan's stare.
    Jordan tried to smile, though the slight movement split the cut on her lip. When the girl got up and came toward her, Jordan whispered, "No," fearing for the girl's safety, but she breathed a sigh of relief a moment later when no one seemed to notice her absence.
    Dressed like the rest of the women in a doeskin dress with fringes running down the length of one side, the girl's tiny feet were encased in a pair of moccasins that went to mid-calf. As she came closer, Jordan saw how pretty she was. Her skin was pale, contrasting with the dark auburn color of her hair, and her eyes were hazel, framed by long, thick, dark lashes. Jordan guessed her to be no older than five or six.
    The girl sat cross-legged in front of Jordan, watching her in silence. Her little head moved at an angle, staring at Jordan intently, as though she were admiring a toy through a glass window. A tiny hand reached out, taking a lock of Jordan's hair between dirty fingers.
    Jordan steadied herself for the yank that was sure to come, and was surprised when instead the girl's touch was gentle as she pulled her braid up along side Jordan's. The color was nearly identical. A slight smile came to the child's face.
    "What's your name?" Jordan asked, keeping her voice low.
    "Rebecca." Her sweet little voice was tentative.
    "Rebecca, that's a pretty name. I'm Jordan," she replied, noticing her captor watched them, his expression deadly. "How did you get here, Rebecca?"
    The girl bit her lower lip and dropped Jordan's hair.
    "Were you captured?"
    "You look like her."
    "Who?"
    "My mama. She had hair like yours, but your eyes are different...a little. Hers are brown, not green."
    "Is your mother here, too?"
    The girl frowned. "No, she's dead. My papa, too."
    Jordan's heart clenched at the girl's words, remembering far too well the pain of losing ones parents at a fragile age, and having to face the world alone and afraid. "I'm sorry about your parents. I know how much it hurts. My parents were killed when I was about your age."
    Rebecca's brow furrowed into a skeptical frown. "They were?"
    Jordan nodded. "Yes, and though I miss them, I just try to remember all the good times."
    "I try to do that."
    "How long have you been here?"
    Fingering the fringes on her dress, Rebecca's teeth bit into her lower lip. "I don't know...a while."
    The words hadn't left her mouth when her captor called out to her.
    "You'd better go," Jordan urged reluctantly.
    "I hope Lame Deer doesn't hurt you," Rebecca said with a sad smile. "He is