White Owl Read Online Free

which bordered her parents’ property and served as an unofficial boundary line for the Ute lands. Once she had reached the creek, however, she had not even hesitated to nudge Molly into the gently flowing water. She had felt helpless to prevent herself from being drawn back to the Ute racetrack. Now look where it had gotten her!
    Rose leaned forward cautiously and glanced through the bushes. She could see the Indian ridinghis black pony toward the racetrack. Had he been hiding up here every day for the past three days waiting to see if she would come back? She groaned and sat back down on her heels. How could she have been so stupid?
    She looked down at her dirty and torn clothes and felt a tear sting the corner of her eye. The riding outfit and frilly white blouse she wore were her best suit of clothes and only a few of the store-bought garments she owned. Her Aunt Maggie had purchased them for her as a going-away present when they had left Denver to homestead out here in western Colorado over a year and a half ago. She knew it had been foolish to wear these nice clothes today, but for some reason she had felt compelled to dress up. Now her beautiful outfit was probably ruined.
    In an effort to control the fierce tremors that continued to race through her body, Rose wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Somehow she had to gather her wits about her, get back home as quickly as possible, and pray that the Indian didn’t follow through with his threat to come for her.
    She peeked back through the bushes and could no longer see the Ute anywhere on the slope below. She hoped he had already rejoined the others and was now one of the many riders racing around the track in a veil of dust and rocks. Regardless of where he was, Rose knew she had to leave here now.
    She reached out and picked up her wide-brimmed hat. It was covered with dust, and the top was flattened out of shape. With a couple of shakes,the loose dust was easily removed. She pushed the crown back into shape before she placed the hat back on her head.
    Her shaky legs barely supported her as she made her way over to Molly. Her compliant mare had not moved one inch from where she had been standing when the Indian had pulled Rose from her back.
    “Thank the good Lord above, Molly, that Pa trained you so good,” Rose whispered as she led the horse away from the ridge and down the back side of the hill. Her legs still wobbled so much that she could barely stand up, let alone walk down the incline. Several times she slipped and slid a couple of feet down on her rear-end before she could regain her balance. Once they were on flat ground again, Rose attempted to climb back up into the saddle. Her arms felt as limp as a rag doll’s, and it took all of her strength to pull herself onto Molly’s back.
    “Take me home, girl,” Rose said with a trembling voice. The horse moved forward with cautious steps, as if she knew that her mistress was in a fragile state.
    Rose continued to glance back over her shoulder even though she knew it was a wasted effort. If the Ute wanted to follow her, she would probably not even be aware of it until he was dragging her off her horse again. There were heavy groves of aspens and tall clusters of sagebrush and cedars scattered throughout the countryside. She had no doubt the Indian could easily track her all the wayback to her parents’ farm without ever showing himself. She shuddered and clasped the reins tighter as she urged Molly into a trot.
    The trip back home seemed to take longer than normal because she could not stop berating herself for going to the racetrack. Even worse, she could not quit thinking about the feel of the Indian’s rock-hard manhood against the side of her hip.
    She suddenly had to undo the top button of her blouse, but that did nothing to cool the burning sensation that raced through her entire body. Since she had two brothers, Rose was not ignorant of male anatomy. When she and her twin brother had turned