Her gaze lingered on his bare back. She loved to look at him, see the play of muscles ripple beneath his skin. Her eyes skimmed downward. The flap of his breechclout swished side to side, revealing glimpses of flesh as bronzed as the rest of him. Her own Apollo. She smiled and stared at her arms. Her skin had turned to a nice shade of honey after hours spent in the warmth of the sun. Not as deeply tanned as his, but she no longer looked white.

At first, it'd seemed strange to go without clothing. Aside from taking bathes, she'd never gone naked. And never outside, in the open. She chuckled. Her warrior had convinced her that it was silly to put on her shift and the make-shift shirt she'd salvaged from her mother's old dress when he was just as likely to take them off again.

When they were camped, she wore her shift--or if he had his way--nothing but when they traveled, she endured the heavy weight of the much shortened skirt of her mother's dress tied around her waist, enjoying the brush of tall grass against her calves, and the warm air on her bare arms. Due to the heat, she'd torn the sleeves from the shift.

He turned to see what she found amusing. Reaching forward, Emily stroked her fingers down his back, and slid the tips beneath the hide covering his flesh. His eyes darkened, and roamed down her body, making her breasts ache for his touch. With a glint in his eyes, he trailed his finger down across one budded breast, then across and over the other.

She groaned. This time it was his turn to grin. To her disgust, he turned and continued on. Again she wondered about his pace. Perhaps they were returning to his tribe. Beneath her feet, the grass crunched beneath her steps, and surrounding her, leaves on trees had lost their glossy texture. Everything looked dry. Summer would soon give way to fall and winter. Surely he didn't roam on his own during the winter? Thinking of his tribe brought a new worry to her.

What would his people be like? Would they accept her? She had no idea.

Dusk was nearly upon them before he stopped and motioned for her to hide. She settled back while he went ahead to scout. They'd gone through this many times, especially when he spotted other savages in the area. He'd taught her to sit absolutely still, to walk without leaving tracks, and to move through the bushes without breaking leaves or branches.

When he returned and motioned to her, she followed him deep into the lengthening shadows. Without warning, they burst out of the woods into a small secluded clearing.

There was just enough light to reveal a fallen tree trunk, tall, brown grass, and shrubs, all enclosed by a wall of thick tree trunks. Beneath her feet, tiny flowers drooped on fragile stems - another sign that summer would soon be past.

"It's wonderful," she murmured, staring around at her own bit of paradise.

He grunted, then indicated she should make camp. Untying a long, leather thong that criss-crossed her back to hold their belongings while they traveled, she quickly unpacked the pouches of food, a blanket of rabbit pelts she'd sewn together and the buffalo hide which she used to roll everything into. Gathering fistfuls of dry grass and leaves, she piled them together, making a soft bed upon the hard ground. She laid the buffalo fur on top. Turning, she waited to see if he was going to hunt, or if they'd just eat a meal of dried meat and berries.

The look in his eyes made her smile. Dried meat and berries. When he held out his hand she took it and let him lead her down to the soft bed she'd just fashioned. Without hesitating, she stepped out of the cumbersome skirt, noting that it was in tatters and would soon be worthless. And when she pulled the shift over her head, she heard it rip. She winced. Soon, she'd have nothing to wear but right now, it didn't seem to matter.

After a bout of leisurely lovemaking, Emily rose and brought the pouch of food to their bed. She also brought the comb she assumed her warrior had gotten from traders. She handed it to him, and as he did each evening, he settled her between his thighs.

"I've never had anyone comb my hair as gently as you do," she commented, leaning back into his hands as he gently untangled her long hair. While he attended to her hair, she nibbled on the fresh batch of berries she'd picked yesterday.

"I wish you could talk to me. It's the only thing I really miss, you know." She'd tried to get him to teach her his language but outside of a few words here and there, it hadn't worked.

So in the evenings, she talked. About what she'd seen during the day, her fears, her childhood. Anything she could think of just to hear a voice she could understand.

When he tossed the comb aside and slid his hands around to cup her heavy breasts in his palms, she leaned back. Laughing, she tipped her head back and held out a freshly picked berry.

"You really should eat."

He took the food from her, deliberately nipping her pink-tipped fingers with his teeth.

Long into the night, Emily gave herself over to her warrior, sensing an edge to his loving. But the touch of his mouth skimming her flesh shoved the worry aside. Her lover wouldn't allow any distraction on her part. When she finally fell asleep, her legs tangled with his, her head tucked beneath his chin, and her fingers twined with his, it was with a smile on her lips.

The howl of a coyote broke the predawn stillness, startling Emily awake. Sitting, leaning on one hand, she blinked against the darkness. The moon had gone behind a cover of gray clouds. Her heart raced. What had awakened her? She no longer feared wolves or coyotes. Not with her warrior at her side. But tonight, she sensed something wrong. Seeking warmth and reassurance, she turned to her companion.

He wasn't there. She reached out and touched the bedding but found only a cold empty spot where she'd fallen asleep wrapped snugly in his arms. She rose to her knees and peered into the darkness. Where had he gone? She shivered.

Suddenly a small ray of light broke through the blanket of clouds and she spotted a familiar figure moving further into the gray shadows, away from her. Why the sight of him walking away struck terror in her heart, she didn't know. All of his strange behavior came back to her and she didn't care if he was going scouting, or checking up on a noise he'd heard. She didn't want to be left alone.

Not now.

"Wait!" she cried softly. She jumped to her feet, heedless of the rocks and branches stabbing her bare soles as she stumbled after the departing warrior. Emily grabbed his arm, dimly aware of the weapons slung across his shoulders and animal-skin pouches of personal items hanging from a throng around his waist.

She froze. He never took those with him unless they were moving on. "Where are you going?" Panic edged her voice.

His nostrils flared with emotion then she was caught close by strong muscular arms. Emily threw her arms around his neck, clinging fiercely, drinking in his rich scent, a combination of man-sweat and the woodsy outdoors. It was all right. He wasn't leaving.

He murmured something in her ear. She heard the beat of his heart, and sharp intake of air as he reached up and pried her hands from his neck, forcing them back to her side. She stared up at him, trying to read his expression in the dark of the night.

His arms lifted, his fingers brushing up her bare arms, feathering over her collarbone, and up to frame her small oval face. "Kopegla sni yo." Leaning down, he kissed her gently.

Emily closed her eyes, comforted by his kiss yet troubled by it. His lips were firm and warm, yet they trembled. When he gently led her back to the fallen log, she sat, staring up at him, catching the glimmer of moisture in his eyes.

He turned and picked up a water pouch made from the stomach lining of a buffalo and the bulging parfleche filled with meat, berries and greens. He held them out to her.

Emily took the precious pouches that she'd refilled just yesterday and laid them in her lap, wondering why he was preparing to leave so early this day. Then he held out a wooden object that had been sitting among the food pouches. She'd never seen it before. Reaching for it, Emily twisted sideways on the decaying log to let beams of moonlight fall on his offering.

A thick piece of bark formed the top of the crudely carved box. Lifting it, she peered inside. Soft brown rabbit fur lined the interior. Curled on the silky fur lay a necklace. Emily lifted it out and held it up. She gasped at the long, bear claw strung on a leather thong. It was one he'd worn around his neck, one she hadn't even noticed gone. Planning to take her mother's locket that she wore around her neck on another length of leather and combine the two, she turned to thank him.

Her cry of pleasure lodged in her throat. She scanned the area but he was nowhere in sight.

Looking at the gifts he'd given her, one dangling from the tips of her fingers, the other resting on her palm, she knew if she stood and ran after him, she wouldn't find him this time.

He'd said good-bye.

Tears slid from her eyes, ran down her cheeks and dripped down onto her bare breasts. Her head moved slowly side to side as she refused to believe her protector, friend and lover had disappeared forever behind nature's wall of greenery.

High overhead, the sky turned gray, the silence of the night broken by birds chirping and fluttering sleepily as they woke to greet the light of a new day. Emily heard none of it. She sat perfectly still, too numbed to move. This couldn't be happening!

Hadn't she suffered already? Hadn't losing her family in that gruesome massacre been enough?

A rustling from the bushes behind Emily caused her to jump off the log. The precious water pouch fell to the ground, bursting to create a puddle at her feet. Her heart raced. She clutched his gift to her chest. Rounding the large green bush, she scanned the area, praying that he'd changed his mind and had come back to get her.

Instead, a doe, startled by her sudden appearance, flicked her white tail and bounded into the concealing darkness of the woods. Emily's shoulders slumped in despair. Unsure of what to do or where to go, she staggered back to the bed she'd shared with her warrior and fell to her knees, feeling numb.

And vulnerable sitting there, naked and alone. She grabbed her shift and yanked it over her head, unheeding of the sound of ripping cloth. Clothed, she sat still, trying to reach out with her senses. The feeling of being watched persisted. He was there. Somewhere. She felt him. Sensed his presence.

"Where are you?" she yelled.

No answer. Why? Why wouldn't he come back to her? What cruel joke was this?

The silence lengthened. Unnerved her. What had she done wrong? Had she displeased him? Why had he left? Panic overcame numbness and disbelief as the sharp stink of truth hit her: she'd been abandoned. Again.

She covered her trembling mouth with her fingers in an effort to choke back the screams that rose from deep within and clawed at the back of her throat for release. This couldn't be happening.

He couldn't just leave her out her to die. Not after taking her in. Not after loving her. And he did love her. She knew he did, just as she loved him. Then why? Why? Fear released her voice.

"I love you," she wept, over and over.

"Come back. Please, come back. I love you . . . "

Over and over she alternated between screaming for him to come back, begging him not to leave her and crying desperately for him not to do this.

Finally, she cursed him for abandoning her until her voice grew hoarse and she was forced to accept the fact that once again, she was alone in a harsh untamed land.