A Find Through Time

by Marianne Petit

  “Then perhaps I was wrong.” Angry, his brows knotted. “Perhaps you would like for me to give you to the others.” He jerked her to his chest. “But first, you will spread your legs for me.” The cold tone of his voice chilled her more than his words.

  He took her mouth with a savage intensity that was both punishing and demanding. Her knees buckled as he crushed her closer. When he drew away, he left her lips throbbing. She leaned back, struggling to break away, only to find her movements barred by his strong grip locked around her waist.

  “Let me go.” Lightheaded, her voice barely a whisper, she continued. “You certainly have the wrong idea.”

  “Tell me. Surely you cannot be so blind as to not know that a man, any man has the right to lay claim to a captive and can share her with whom he pleases? Had I not let the others think I had bedded you that I alone lay claim to you, right now you might have found yourself wrapped around Little Wolf's shaft. Perhaps you would prefer him to me?”

  “No, he repulses me.”

  He shot her a smug look, then pressed her closer and ran his hand slowly up and down her back. “Then I am right when I say that I please you.”

  She glanced away. He hadn't raped her. Hadn't forced himself on her at all. He could have had his way with her anytime over the past few days and even at the cave. All along his intention had been to save her virginity? Hell, Robert had already stolen that-as well as her heart.

  With gentle fingers he turned her face back. “Answer me,” he demanded, his voice low.

  His warm fingers against her cheek fueled her racing heart. Her throat pulsed rapidly. “How do I know you didn't have an alternative notion in mind when you cut that rope?” She never should have brought the subject up.

  “You don't.” A slow, sly grin touched his lips. “You haven't answered me. Do I please you?”

  Gabrielle hesitated, feeling trapped. “Thank you for coming to my rescue before with Little Wolf-” Feeling like they had reached a crossroads-a truce, maybe. “I don't find you repulsive,” she mumbled under her breath.

  It was the first time she heard him laugh.

  ****

  Two Moons reached out and ran his finger against her cheek. She inhaled sharply at the contact. So she desired him. “It brings me much happiness that you find me good to look upon. You…” He took her face in his hand and held it gently. “… Are also very pleasing to the eye.”

  The desire to feel her lips pressed against his made his throat dry. Do not go down this path, a voice called out in his mind.

  Ignoring the words whispering in his head, he slowly slid his hand to her neck. His fingers caught a lock of her hair and he twirled it against her cheek. He touched her lips. The tresses fell from his grip as he ran his finger gently back and forth against her warm mouth. His lips throbbed with wanting. Stop. The spirits will be angered. A vow, a promise will be broken.

  She leaned closer. Blood rushed through him like an awakened river. She is willing. I break no vow.

  Desire shone in her eyes and broke his resolve. Claiming her lips, he crushed them to his. Their tongues blended, twirled and darted, back and forth, around and around. He drank in her sweetness, savoring every movement. Every erotic plunge, darting in and out of her mouth sent a fire of desire to his throbbing limbs. Any thoughts of guilt faded into the back of his mind.

  He broke his hold, encircled his arms around her. With one hand in the small of her back, he lifted her in the cradle of his arms. His gait, hurried, anxious, he carried her to his pallet and laid her gently on the fur. Before his heart could take a second beat, he lay beside her. Think on this what you are about to do, the voice whispered again.

  He searched her eyes and saw the tenderness, the passion brimming forth. She wanted him and he her. He unlaced her dress and pushed aside the leather revealing her breasts. Fondling one sphere, he watched the golden nipple grow taut. Quickly his hand slid to the other breast and he swirled his finger around her dark orb. Again, her body responded to his touch. He leaned forward, and let his tongue follow the same path left by his finger. Skillfully caressing her swollen nipple, he heard her moan; then he swallowed her taut nub in his mouth and sucked.

  Pressed against her, she squirmed beneath him. Slowly he reached to the bottom of her dress and drew up the cloth His hand touched her bare thigh. A sense of urgency drove him to straddle her. No gold rope. She wears no four-sided piece of gold. She is not of your vision. A sense of uncontrollable wanting made him push all thoughts of denial from his mind. He stared down into the depths of her blue eyes. Look at her. Take a good look. She is not of your people. The Gods will curse you. The silent words beat against his brain, shouting, echoing. A wrong will be done. Be strong. Fight.

  Angered by the guilt quickly speeding through his mind, he rolled off her and stood.

  She stared at him, surprised. And he knew as he threw open the flap of his lodge that she would be hurt. He knew he should tell her it was not her fault.

  Without glancing back, he hesitated. Pride knotted the words in his throat. He stepped outside. The flap fell shut.

  This was not a path that he should walk.

  Chapter Nine

  Gabrielle stared at the closed flap of the tepee where moments ago Two Moons had left in a rush. One minute they were fighting and then the next…

  She sat up and yanked down her dress. Damn him! He had done it again. He’d knocked down her defenses until she couldn’t think of anything but feeling him inside her, and then he just walked off in the middle. Without an explanation yet!

  She jerked to her feet and paced back and forth, her footsteps grooved a path in the tepee’s dirt floor. She was the bigger moron. God, did she ever learn? You’d think that being dumped once in a lifetime would have taught her that men were fickle, afraid of commitment, afraid to stick around. What did he think would have happened if they’d made love? Marriage? Fat chance. She’d almost made that mistake once. She certainly didn’t love Two Moons. Desire… perhaps.

  “Damn you!”

  She strode to the opening and threw open the flap. What could she have possibly been thinking? She stared outside.

  She hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. She had let herself fall victim to a man’s whims. Let herself fall for a pair of strong arms, and eyes so chocolaty dark that she felt as though she could lose herself in their deep depths.

  She sighed. Fool that she was, she missed making love. It had been such a long time since anyone had touched her like he had. Not since Robert, had she felt so wonderfully out of control. And I paid for that dearly enough.

  A sharp pain attacked her abdomen. She dropped her hand to her belly as another cramp attacked. Great. Could things get any worse? Blood trickled down her leg.

  Gabrielle ran to her pallet of fur and pulled from beneath, the white blouse she had worn her first day in the village. Quickly, she ripped the fabric into strips and tied a few pieces around her body. God, what she wouldn’t give for a bathroom and a box of tampons. She straightened her dress and stepped outside.

  The aroma of stew wafted toward her. Food! McDonalds would be heaven-sent at this moment. God knew what she was eating-birds, squirrels, even prairie dogs. Eating an animal, after she’d been forced to clean it, was enough to make her want to become a vegetarian. Irritation thinned her lips.

  Ah, hell. She’d have to confront Two Moons eventually.

  She sat next to a woman who was busy pulverizing some boiled meat. Staring at the crude rawhide bowl where the meat, mixed with bits of fat and dried berries were being ground with a granite meat pounder, Gabrielle couldn't help but be amazed. Hundreds of years from now, some archeologist was going to find those artifacts and wonder who had used them and for what purpose. And here she sat, seeing it first-hand.

  Gabrielle glanced to Two Moons who sat beside a tepee painted with black and blue geometric shapes. Curly, her little hero, sat on his lap. The boy looked so small against the wide expanse of Two Moons' bare chest. His arms
looked so strong wrapped around Curly, and his bronzed skin slicked with grease, shone smooth beneath the sunlight. She couldn't help but remember how it felt to be pressed up against that broad chest, or how his musky male scent had sent her senses reeling. They were studying an arrow, Two Moons running his fingers along its shaft and Curly nodding with understanding at something he was saying.

  Two Moons turned slightly. The sun illuminated the scars on his back and she wondered, as she had so often lying next to him at night, how he'd come to get those crisscrossed marks. Even from this distance, they were noticeable. Somehow, she couldn't imagine him doing anything wrong enough to warrant that kind of punishment.

  Curly dropped the arrow. As Two Moons bent over to retrieve it, the medicine pouch he wore around his neck swung forward. She wondered what was inside that little bag. What magic items did he wear to ward off evil spirits and protect him from his enemies? Those were the things that made the man; things that were dear to his heart. Would there be a precious stone, or the claw of a grizzly inside?

  He glanced at her. The raw sexual magnetism that seemed to emanate from his body made her heart jolt. His bold stare, so intense, so purely provocative, sent her mind spinning.

  “You keep your thoughts from my man,” a hard voice from above her ordered.

  Gabrielle looked up. Standing overhead was a statuesque woman, with a wide girth to her shoulders and with arms that could probably lift a fifty-pound weight without flinching.

  “You can have him,” Gabrielle lifted her chin, meeting the woman’s icy gaze.

  She could feel the scrutinizing stares of all those around her, waiting and watching.

  “You speak with the same forked-tongue as your true people. I see the way your eyes search his.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about. Why don't you go kill a rabbit or something. I've got work to do.” Gabrielle grabbed a stone gavel and began mashing berries in a bowl on her lap. Maybe if she ignored her, Ms bodybuilder would leave.

  “He is mine. You blue-eyed whore.”

  “That's it!” Gabrielle jumped up. The dish fell to the ground with a thud. “I'm sick and tired of everyone pushing me around.” Her fingers poking imaginary holes through the woman's collarbone, she continued. “You'd better watch who you’re calling a whore.”

  The woman drew in a heavy breath. With a sudden thrust, her hand came up, reaching for Gabrielle's hair.

  “Kills Pretty!” Chahanpi's voice rang out before Kills Pretty touched Gabrielle's head. Gabrielle ducked sideways, then spun sideways facing Chahanpi who was walking toward them.

  “It is my wish that no harm come to her. If you want me as an enemy, then disregard my words.” Chahanpi's words, though softly spoken, had a steel edge to them.

  Kills Pretty dropped her hand. Her mouth thinned with frustration, she hesitated a moment. Icy contempt flashed in her eyes; then without a word, she knocked Gabrielle in the shoulder as she pushed between them.

  “Don't mind Kills Pretty Enemy. She is jealous.”

  Kills Pretty Enemy. That was an appropriate name for a bully Gabrielle thought as she watched her walk away. “Jealous of what?” What did Chahanpi hold over her head, to make the woman shake in her shoes?

  “She wishes to become Two Moons', mitawicu, his wife.” Chahanpi stepped before her. “But, it is you who shares his tepee.”

  Gabrielle’s gaze flew to Kills Pretty Enemy. Now she understood the depth behind the woman's hate.

  A young woman with the doe eyes, stared at her with a mixture of anxiety and concern on her round face.

  “Who's that young woman over there?”

  “Where?” Chahanpi turned. Her gaze followed Gabrielle's pointed finger. “Her name is Gentle Fawn. She is Two Moons’ sister and the mother of Curly.”

  “Curly?” Her little hero? Chahanpi's words came back to her. “He is of Two Moons’ family.” Now it all makes sense. “Then I must go tell her what a fine boy she has.”

  “Not now. Sit. Let us talk about Gentle Fawn.” Chahanpi gestured to the ground.

  Gabrielle sat.

  Chahanpi settled beside her. “Gentle Fawn does not live in the same world as you, or I.. During the long snows many soldiers walked our lands. They came to us, smoked the chanunpa, told us they wanted peace. When they returned to their camps, they forced many of my sisters to go with them.” Chahanpi paused. Her gaze on Two Moons' sister, she watched as Gentle Fawn entered her tepee, then she continued. “Gentle Fawn was one of the women. They told her she had the greatest honor. She was to bed down with the soldier-chief.”

  A flash of grief ripped through Gabrielle. Rape. It had happened so frequently between both the Indians and the whites, neither side caring if their lusting needs destroyed those “chosen” multitudes.

  “Against her will, Gentle Fawn stayed with the soldier-chief for many nights. Then the soldier-chief's wife came to his camp. Now Gentle Fawn could not stay. She was an embarrassment to the soldier-chief. He sent her away, used and broken.”

  A heaviness settled in Gabrielle's chest. In a small way she could sympathize with her. She, too, had known the fear, the threatening terror of rape. With a shiver of recollection she recalled being in the cave with Two Moons and then in Little Wolf's tepee. Two Moons would never have raped her, she knew that now, but what about Little Wolf?

  “Gentle Fawn is a proud woman,” Chahanpi continued. “For many moons she kept her silence as the soldier-chief's child grew within her. Then on the day of Curly's birth, through her screams, her mind left us to find peace in her own world. Two Moons, he always worries about his younger sister. He is a good man.”

  Gabrielle shot Two Moons a glance. He studied her intently with what appeared to be concern. She wondered for a moment, what he would have done if there had been a fight. She had no doubt that he would have eventually stopped them, but whose side would he have taken? Did he have feelings for Kills Pretty? Were they lovers?

  She glanced away, annoyed. A swift stab of jealousy twisted her heart. He had asked her if she was crazy. Maybe she was. She was sitting here wondering if he was attracted to her.

  “Thanks for coming to my rescue, again,” Gabrielle said.

  “You are my friend. I would do no less.”

  Friend. What a novel idea. When was the last time she had one of those? “What month is this?”

  A faint glint of surprise widened Chahanpi's eyes as she studied her thoughtfully.

  Great. If she didn't think I was crazy before, that ought to do it. Gabrielle bit the inside of her lip. How could she explain how she had no knowledge of her whereabouts, or the day, the month, or for that matter why she couldn't tell a poisonous berry from a good one. Hell, no wonder they all thought she was crazy.

  “It is the moon of the ripening berries,” Chahanpi answered, her voice low, soft.

  Gabrielle tried to recall what she had read about the Native American calendar. If she remembered correctly that would mean it was June.

  The sound of Rattling Blanket's laughter rose above the women's voices.

  Gabrielle frowned. “That woman works me like a slave.”

  “You belong to Rattling Blanket,” replied Chahanpi.

  “I belong to no one.”

  “You were a gift to Two Moons' mother. It is her right to do with you as she wishes. It is our way.”

  “Well, sometimes I don't agree with your ways,” Gabrielle snapped in annoyance. “If anyone was treated the way I'm treated, the civil rights activists would slap a lawsuit on that woman so fast, her head would spin,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “What?

  “Oh, never mind. You forgot a bead.” Gabrielle pointed to a blank spot on the garment Chahanpi held in her lap.

  “No. That was my intention. Only Tunkashila is perfect. It reminds me to be humble. Only he can create something perfect, the rest of us make mistakes.”

  Chahanpi's words, like the entire attitude of the people in the village, whose every day's actions exude
d spirituality and a respect for their creator, was one of the things that truly awed her. Living with these people was like living in a monastery without walls.

  She believed in God, but never went to church. As a child, she’d been taught to say her prayers. But growing up in a household where love and respect were almost nonexistent, she had come to wonder if God perhaps had ceased to listen. And the death of her younger brother had put an end to her talks with the Almighty.

  Not happy with the way her thoughts were going, Gabrielle abruptly changed the subject. “Anyway, now the entire village has other things to talk about, right?” She was sure the little scene between Kills Pretty and her was the hot topic of discussion.

  “Talking about people reminds us of the right and proper way of life. How else, if not by other's mistakes, are we to learn? Is it not the same way where you come from? Two Moons, believes you lived at the fort.”

  Gabrielle shrugged. “We call it gossip.” She couldn't explain where she had come from. Perhaps it would be better if Chahanpi and everyone else believed she had come from the fort. What could it hurt?

  “Then it is true. You lived among the whites. Do not make that known. Others will not be as understanding as I, with good reason.”

  “Why?”

  “It is one thing to be Crow, another to live among the ones with the pale faces. The Crow scouts at the fort send the soldiers to fight against my people. You cannot change the white blood that runs through you, but there are those who do not understand why the Upsaroka, Crow help the white soldiers. Even as we speak the Long Knives search for us, look to bring us back to live on their reservations.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “It is not within your power to change the journey my people must follow.”

  Oh, but it was, Gabrielle thought. She was the only one who could do something. She knew how it all played out. There had to be something she could do.

  ****