by Becky Lower
He was following his people's traditions in making a set of moccasins for his woman. Normally, it was a wedding gift to the woman of choice and would be highly embellished with beads forming a pattern of some significance to the two of them. And it usually took weeks to make rather than days. But there would be no beads on this pair, and the harsh reality of the situation took hold, making him finally listen to reason. Susannah was definitely his woman of choice, but she could never be his wife. The unembellished moccasins bore out the facts.
He glanced up from his work and whispered into the air. "Grandfather, I wish you were here to give me advice, as you always have done. If I ever needed guidance, it is now."
The walls were silent, except for the occasional nicker from the horse and the wind, which blew through the cracks in the walls. His grandfather would not answer him. The gods were sleeping. And he had no peyote to help him on a vision quest. He was on his own.
The mere thought of saying goodbye to Hannah and Missouria brought a lump to this throat. And bidding farewell to Susannah? It would be like cutting off an arm. Could he survive it? But still, it needed to be done. He had long overstayed his visit. His destiny, the reason for his vision, had been fulfilled by his involvement in saving Susannah and the baby.
Yes, he would leave immediately after Christmas. It would be best for everyone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Susannah woke on Christmas morning to the sound of wood being chopped in the yard. She ran to the window, still in her nightgown. Raoul's powerful arms were raised over his head and he lowered the axe, cleanly splitting the wood. He leaned over and picked up the next log, giving Susannah a chance to observe his backside. She could stand here and ogle him all morning, if not for a house full of children who needed to be fed.
She cracked open the door, stuck her head out and called to him. It would not do to let him see her in her nightgown, even though he’d seen her in a much more intimate setting only a few weeks earlier.
"Why are you splitting wood this morning? We have more than enough to get us through the rest of winter. And it's freezing out here."
He didn't even glance at her. "One can never have too much firewood."
"But, it's Christmas Day. You shouldn't be working. Come inside and have breakfast with us."
"I need to finish this job first. I will be over later to share in the children's excitement."
Her own excitement waned as she shut the door. With a small sigh, she changed into her dress, nursed the baby, and got bacon frying. After breakfast, the children would open their few presents and the day would be etched in her memory as the first Christmas they shared without William present. The first of several, unless the war finished quickly. The day may be one she would recall with bittersweet feelings, but she doubted she'd haul the memory out and examine it often. Getting through it once would be hard enough.
Following the meal, the children gathered around the tree and picked up the packages. Hannah sorted the gifts out and each took his or her turn opening them, so they all could share in each other’s excitement. Susannah had labored many a night after the children were sleeping, to darn a new pair of socks for each, and to knit a warm scarf for each little neck. The children's cries of joy muffled the sound of the door opening. Even through the noise, Susannah could tell when Raoul entered the house. The air crackled, and her breathing became shallow. She glanced up at him.
He had a saddlebag over his shoulder, which he placed on the floor before scooping up George, who came running to him. He put the lad on one broad shoulder and galloped around the room, as if George was riding a fine steed. The toddler’s delightful laughter made both adults smile. Finally, Raoul lowered the child to the floor and took a seat beside Susannah, who was holding the baby.
"Your children have grown in the months since I first met them."
"Yes, even without their father, but with your help, I've managed to nurture them. They go to a warm bed each night with a full belly."
Hannah ran to Raoul’s side, carrying one of her presents.
“Here, Lone Wolf. Have a piece of my peppermint. It’s yummy good.”
“Miigwich, little Hannah.” Raoul popped the sweetness into his mouth, enjoying the explosion of sweet flavor before he reached into his saddlebag and drew out his gifts for each child. Identical sets of moccasins, in varying sizes, were revealed.
Hannah moved to Raoul's side once her new moccasins were in place. She held out her leg, turning her foot to the right and then the left, so he could see his handiwork.
"Thank you, Lone Wolf. Miigwich. It's a perfect gift. Even when they're worn out, I'll keep them to remind me of you." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, her small hand caressing his face. Susannah got a lump in her throat as she observed the closeness of the two. Maybe it was the fact they were so fond of one another that made Hannah aware there would come a time when Raoul would leave them for good, and he would become nothing more than a fond memory.
"The rest of you children need to say thank you as well, to Raoul. He worked very hard on your moccasins."
She tied on the littlest ones to Missouria's small feet as Jacob, Lydia and George hugged Raoul. Her eyes grew misty as her baby kicked her feet in the air. It was as if she were showing off her new footwear just as Hannah had done.
Raoul reached into his bag one more time and drew out a pair of adult-sized moccasins. He handed them to Susannah.
"I had enough deerskin left to make a pair for you. Now the entire family is outfitted."
The lump in her throat grew and tears escaped down her cheeks. She ran her fingers over the soft leather and the fringe around the edges.
"How thoughtful. Thank you, Raoul, for this, and for everything else you've done for me. For us."
She handed over the baby to Hannah and rose from her chair, wiping the tears from her face. There was one more gift under the tree. And she couldn't wait to have it unveiled.
The big package was placed in Raoul's lap. He glanced up at her, a question in his eyes.
"Go ahead. Open it. I made it for you."
The question in his eyes was replaced by excitement as he tore open the wrapping. A full-sized quilt, in shades of orange, turquoise and brown emerged. He stood and held it up for inspection.
"This is beautiful, Susannah. It is a familiar Indian pattern. You are most thoughtful."
She ran a hand over the cloth. "The angles and sharp edges reminded me of you as I was making the quilt. That's the outside of you, what is shown to the world. And, as I was quilting it up, I could feel your inner layer of warmth as I stitched the outside to the inside. You are a good man, Raoul. I hope this keeps you a bit warmer as you go on your journey."
Susannah sensed the time was near when he would be leaving them. When he covered her hand with his own, she shivered, well aware she was correct, and that he would be departing soon.
♥•♥•♥
The children were asleep, the excitement of the day having worn them out. Susannah wrapped a shawl around herself and dashed across the yard to the barn. Deep in her soul she could tell Raoul was preparing to leave, possibly even this evening. If she didn’t go to the barn now, she’d wake up tomorrow to find Raoul gone without a word. She needed a proper goodbye.
As she suspected, he was packing his saddlebags.
Her voice trembled as she approached him. "So you were going to just ride off? Without bidding farewell to the children who have come to love you?"
"It is for the best. It is easier to place a person into a memory if there is no long goodbye. And a memory is what I need to become to this family."
He rose from the hay bale he'd been sitting on and stood in front of her.
She put a hand on his broad chest, feeling his heart beating. "And what about me? You wouldn't say goodbye to me?"
He placed his hand over hers. "Especially not you, Susannah. You tempt me way too much."
She didn't move back from him, and kept her hand on his chest. His hea
rtbeat was strong under her fingers and getting faster. He undid the strip of leather that bound her braid together. Without taking his eyes from her, his fingers began to slowly uncoil the braid. She stood breathless in front of him. Time stood still while his fingers slid through her hair. Once it was totally unbraided, he ran his hands through it before he brought her face to him. Leaning down, he kissed her lips gently.
"I have needed to touch your hair since the first vision quest I had of you. I wondered if it would be as soft as I dreamed it was. If it would smell of the morning dew." He buried his nose in her hair and took a long, tortured breath, holding her face close to his body.
He moved one hand from her hair and caressed her cheek. She turned into his hand and whimpered. His lips scorched a path down the side of her neck and moved back up to caress her ear. He popped open the top buttons of her dress and tugged on a sleeve, revealing the skin of her shoulder. His tongue and lips tasted her, moving up and down from ear to shoulder. His hands wove into her hair, drawing her closer to him. She wished for him to continue this torment for the rest of the night. But more importantly, she needed to taste him back.
She straightened, placed her hand around the back of his neck, and drew him close. This time, there was nothing gentle about the kiss. Their tongues slid along each other, their bodies melded together. Their breaths came out in short gasps as their hands frantically groped and touched each other for the first time. Susannah’s hands cascaded down his back, cupped the well-developed buttocks she'd admired just this morning, and pressed his body into hers. His erection was as strong as the rest of him, and her juices began to run as he ground his body against hers. She took a tortured breath as her legs parted and her traitorous body begged for more.
Raoul backed her up against the wall of the barn for support, and placed his leg between hers, pressing into her most sensitive area and began to pulsate against her bundle of sex. His hands skimmed over her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples into hard peaks, his mouth never leaving hers. Her body cried out in relief as she crested, in mourning at the loss of her innocence with this man.
She had to stop this, before she truly couldn't stop. Couldn't rewind her life. Her husband was away, fighting a noble fight, and here she was, wantonly offering herself to another. She backed away, nearly falling to her knees as the warmth of his body faded, leaving her trembling with want. And with shame.
"You're right, Raoul. You must leave. I can't trust myself around you anymore."
"An Ojibwa man, by tradition, only makes a pair of moccasins for a woman one time, when they marry. So, I have broken with my people's ways, since you belong to another and I can never marry you. We both have regrets."
He took a step forward and caressed her face again. She sensed it would be for the final time. "You belong to William. Those are his children inside the house, not mine. We must both honor your union, and the only way we can is for me to leave."
Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Where will you go?"
"I have not decided where. I let Ziigwan lead us here last spring. I will let him take us elsewhere."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"The fates will decide. Go back to the house now, Susannah."
She reached out to him once more, touching the hard plane of his cheek and running her fingers through his black hair, needing to commit him to her memory, since that was all he would ever be.
Her hand fisted and she held it to her mouth, to stifle the cry threatening to escape. One final long, loving glance, then she turned and ran to the house.
♥•♥•♥
Ziigwan gingerly made his way down the icy slope of the mountain in the darkness. Raoul rode through the tiny town at the foothills of the mountain, but it was as if he were invisible. Not a soul ventured into the cold streets. Maybe that was a good thing. Indians, half-breed or not, were first given a suspicious eye, before any conversation took place. The good townsfolk might react to him as Susannah had at first, brandishing a shotgun before they addressed him. It would be for the best for him to behave as if he were once again Lone Wolf, and melt into his surroundings. He had managed to ride through town once already with no one seeing him, other than Susannah. If no one witnessed his ride through the town this time, no one would ever be aware he existed, which would make things easier for Susannah come spring.
He got to the border of the small town and glanced back to make certain he had gone unnoticed. No one appeared, and, as he rode in the opposite direction, he breathed a bit easier. He could find another cave in the foothills, and camp out there for the rest of the winter. He and his horse would survive. His body, at least. His heart, which he swore would never be broken again, already was crying out for Hannah, Jacob, Lydia, George, Missouria and most of all, Susannah. They were his family, regardless of what anyone said. Regardless of what logic tried to impress on him, otherwise.
Leaving the mountaintop was the only option for him. If he stayed, he would not be able to corral his feelings for Susannah any longer, now that she had professed her love for him. He was a strong man, but even his resolve had its limits. And Susannah, tempting Susannah, shot a huge hole into his otherwise steely resolve.
He had chopped enough firewood on Christmas day to last the rest of the winter, and he was certain their stores of food would be enough to get them through. Yet, his mind was filled with them and neither he nor Ziigwan seemed inclined to venture too far away.
After a long, cold day of searching, he found a cave, large enough to house the horse and himself, and not already occupied by bears. He relieved Ziigwan of the saddlebags and spread his quilt on the cold floor. His hands moved over the fine stitches. He lifted the fabric to his nose, and could smell Susannah's fresh scent, mingled with the hint of woman. It only took a few steps in his mind to recall how she smelled as they shared their passionate kiss. Her scent had been musky and sensual. His mouth watered and his shaft grew hard. How he wished his morals had not gotten in the way and that he had removed the layers of cloth between them. How he never would have forgiven himself if his morals had not stifled his actions. How he had to fight his impulse to return to the mountain even now. He pictured Susannah in her bed, her legs wrapped around him, crying out in pleasure as she crested in orgasm, as she had done in the barn. She would not deny him if he returned to the homestead. Of that he was certain. So he must not return.
With a sigh, he laid on top of the quilt, covering himself with his coat. Ziigwan was already quiet. It had been a long day for both of them. The horse longed for his warm barn and Raoul longed for his woman. Neither was happy with this current living arrangement. Yet, it was the best they could do.
"Ziigwan, my friend, we will get through the rest of this long winter. Perhaps we should move along. Maybe we need to be back in Missouri, with the rest of my family. I will not feel so lonely there, and you will have a warm stall and plenty of food. But we do not need to make any more decisions tonight."
His horse nickered in agreement and tossed his head.
Longing for some peyote so he could go on another vision quest and see Susannah in his mind again, he stared at the ceiling, his fingers flexing as he recalled the memory of how soft her cheek had been, how fine and silky her long beautiful hair was, how wonderful her mouth tasted. Maybe he had no peyote, but he did have one lustful embrace forged into his memory. It was better than a vision, since he could recall the visceral feelings of touching her, of hearing her soft moans of delight. His memories were all he had and they would have to do.
Could he stay in town? Perhaps get a job in exchange for room and board for himself and Ziigwan? Even in his drowsy state, he shook his head. Bad idea. He would be constantly waiting for Susannah and the children to come down from the mountain so he could catch another glimpse of them. And waiting every time a train pulled into the station, holding his breath until he could determine her husband had not returned. No, he would be better served to leave here in the morning and head west.
C
HAPTER TWENTY
"Mama, Lone Wolf is gone!" Hannah rushed in from the barn with her pail of milk. She carefully set it on the counter and turned to her mother.
"Yes, he is. He left last night, shortly after you children went to bed." Susannah's heart throbbed with ache, still. She hoped wherever he had gone, he was safe and warm.
"But how could he have left without saying goodbye to me?" Hannah's eyes filled with tears.
Susannah gathered her daughter in an embrace and let her cry, wishing she could join her in such an open display of emotion.
"For this precise reason. He didn't wish to see your tears, honey. It was hard enough for him to leave without seeing you cry. After all, he named you Maiingan, Little Wolf, and he knew that you, of all the children, would miss him the most. You have shared blood with each other, something he did not do with anyone else."
"But why did he leave? Daddy's not back yet, and winter's not over. We need Lone Wolf."
Susannah hugged Hannah hard. "Yes, we do. But we also have no hold on him. He decided it was time for him to move on, and he's got us well stocked with food and firewood. We can get through the rest of winter. And with you and Jacob growing so fast, we'll be able to plant more in summer so next winter, we'll have plenty of food. We will be fine."
"Where is he going?"
"I don't have any idea. He said he'd let Ziigwan lead the way. That's how he found us last spring."
Hannah took a long, gasping breath, and stepped out of her mother's embrace. "So we will never see him again?"
"As Raoul said last night, the fates will decide. We can't predict the future. He found his way here once. He will find us again if that's to be our destiny."