White Shadows

by Susan Edwards

  “If I am far from you when they become clearer, it will take too long to find you and warn you of what I have seen.”

  She glanced around. She’d seen so much, yet could tell him so little. Mostly she saw colors, and a child who became a woman. But what worried her was the red—too much red staining the visions like bloodshed.

  “You know what I say is true.”

  Though unhappy with her presence, her husband didn’t argue further. He knew she spoke the truth.

  Golden Eagle took up the battle. “My mother has explained her presence. What is yours?” He addressed his wife.

  White Wind had dismounted and now stood at her mother-in-law’s side. She wore a cradle board on her back. Baby Dove heard her father’s voice and started fussing for him.

  “We are family. My mother needs the help of her daughter. No doubt she will now have to cook many meals. I will help her.” Her Lakota after many years as part of the tribe was fluent. In addition to becoming wholly Sioux, she’d also learned how to manage her husband every bit as skillfully as her mother-in-law managed her own.

  Golden Eagle brought his brows together. “We have no need of women. We take care of our own meals when we go to war.”

  White Wind nodded. “That is good. Then your mother and I will not need to work while we are here. We brought our own food and can take care of ourselves.” She tipped her chin ever so slightly.

  Both men looked thunderstruck. “You will return home with our children,” Golden Eagle ordered. “I will speak with you later about your foolishness in leaving home and bringing them along as though this were a…a picnic.” He used the white man’s word for days spent eating and doing nothing—one of his wife’s favorite activities.

  “Speak now, husband.” A playful breeze flirted with her hair, which had come unbraided—helped by the small hands of her daughter. White-blond hair floated around her face, making her look more like a spirit than a flesh-and-blood woman.

  Seeing Eyes ducked her head to hide her amusement. Her daughter-in-law was not easily intimidated. She walked around and relieved the younger woman of the cradle board.

  Hawk Eyes stepped forward. “My wife has reason to be here. I can even allow you your reasons, but there is no excuse to bring the children.”

  Striking Thunder stalked over to his father and grandfather, his young face filled with indignation. “I am no child.” He gripped his miniature bow in his hand—his new and bigger and stronger bow. “With my father gone I am a man, and a man protects his women.”

  “I am here to help as well.” White Wolf came to stand beside his older brother. At seven he was nearly as tall as Striking Thunder.

  Seeing Eyes lifted Dove out of the cradle board. She didn’t dare look at the two grown men, for she was positive they felt as she did. At nine winters, Striking Thunder had insisted that he be allowed to travel with them.

  “Your grandfather does not like to lose battles, little one, but this battle he has lost,” she whispered to the baby. She then handed her granddaughter to her daughter-in-law.

  Golden Eagle looked as exasperated as his father. He stared down at his young daughter, who came to stand between her mother and grandmother.

  Star Dreamer, Wolf’s twin sister, took her grandmother’s hand. “I see visions.” It was all she offered in her small and uncertain voice.

  Shaking his head, knowing he’d lost, Golden Eagle lifted a brow to the infant. “And the baby? What reason does Dove have to be here?” he asked.

  White Wind handed the baby to her father with a smile. “Her food supply is here.”

  With that, the two women, along with Star Dreamer, began unloading their supplies, while the two boys moved to flank their father and grandfather.

  Behind them, the band of warriors scattered with grins on their faces.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Night Shadow woke in the early morn to a dark, cold and damp room. Lighting a fire was now too risky, as the smoke could be spotted from far away. He was glad he’d had the foresight to bring lots of heavy fur robes.

  From where he lay on his pallet, he watched sunlight shining down through the rocky ceiling in the back, revealing a world of floating dust particles. Rolling over, he glanced over at Winona’s pallet. It was empty. His captive normally woke long before him.

  He shook his head as he sat up. Good thing he didn’t need to worry about her escaping or doing him harm. Instead she seemed determined to prevent him from bringing on his own death—something they argued over at least once a day. Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair, then stretched his arms over his head. “Not today,” he whispered. Soon her father’s warriors would pass through this area, but not today.

  He sprang to his feet and headed for the back of his new hideout, then climbed up to the top. Today he wanted to see the sheer joy that he was beginning to understand as part of Winona herself.

  Though she could be vexing, troublesome and even maddening, she also fascinated him. And made him wish his life was different, that he had more to offer her.

  Climbing to the top, he frowned. He’d been sure he’d find her up here sitting. She’d spent most of yesterday here, coming down to sleep only when he’d threatened to come and get her.

  He walked around the top to be sure. He even glanced down to check that she hadn’t fallen. Remembering the sight of her far above him the day he’d kidnapped her, Night Shadow shook his head. She’d given him more than a bit of a scare, but when he’d brought her here she’d come alive in a way that drew him like honey drew the bears.

  Her excitement even that day when he’d watched and waited for her had drawn him. Her fearlessness, and her joy at standing on top of the world, had been obvious, and she had charmed him. He shook his head. Her skill at rock climbing still amazed him, but her calm acceptance of her fate at his hands confused him.

  Far below, he spotted movement. He narrowed his eyes. Right at that moment he was far from charmed or amazed. He was furious at her for disobeying his order to stay within the cavern. There she was, walking and twirling along the edge of the lake as though she had no care in the world.

  Watching wisps of fog drift off the water, fingers of cotton that seemed to hold and caress her, he felt his anger give way to something that scared him even more. Desire. She was surreal down there, yet he knew only too well how real she was, how real and alive she’d made him feel when he’d merged their bodies as one.

  Refusing to think of that stormy night or the fierce passion that had created a storm unlike anything he’d ever known, Night Shadow spun around and strode out of his temporary home.

  She is not for you. She was not, yet his body protested by remembering how she’d touched him and teased him and spoken to him. His loins longed to feel her soft mound pressed against him, with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

  He tried to convince himself that Winona was not special, but it didn’t work. No one else had ever engaged his mind, his body and his soul as she had done.

  When he’d made love to her, she’d had all of him. The joining of their bodies had satisfied more than his manly needs. She’d satisfied some emotional need he even now refused to examine or admit to having.

  Dropping to his hands and knees, he crawled through the short, narrow passage. Ignorance seemed the wisest course for the time being. As he stood, he fully admitted to himself that he was running away from something that could rock his world and bring it crashing down upon his head.

  The lake enchanted Winona. As soon as she’d seen the misty fog floating across the water she hadn’t been able to resist coming down to greet the new day. The grass beneath her bare feet was wet and cold. The fog enveloped her in a cloudy cloak, and she loved it She felt alive, a part of this hidden world.

  Drawing her dress over her head, she tossed it aside, then waded into the water. The cold made her squeal, but she plunged in and ducked her head beneath the water. Shoving her hair back when she surfaced, she glanced up at the towering rock.
Clay would wake soon and he’d be furious with her for disobeying his orders not to leave her prison. She gave a mental shrug.

  He would just have to get over it. She knew, as did he, that her family was not close to them yet. That would change soon, and she planned to take advantage of this moment.

  Clay underestimated her father and his abilities to track them. Frowning, she felt some of the spell of the early morning fade. Long into the night she’d tried to think of some way to get Clay to change his mind and abandon his risky plan. She sighed. There didn’t seem to be any way she could convince him otherwise.

  Turning to wade back to the bank, she froze at the sight of a very angry Clay watching her. The mist swam around him, parting behind him like hands reaching out. In the gray morning, with his features partially hidden, he looked formidable—and desirable—with his legs spread in a stance that made her even more aware of him as a man.

  Her gaze roamed upward from his knees, lingering on strong thighs that made her remember the feel of him, the strength of him when he’d mated with her. She blinked back the images but hungrily swept her eyes upward to his narrow waist. His angry stance didn’t frighten her. Instead it made her want him desperately.

  Clay wore just his breechclout—and a furious expression. She scowled. She’d rather he wore a look of intense need. Glancing down to be sure she was mostly hidden beneath the water, she grinned mischievously. “If you want to bathe, I’ll turn my head while you undress.” Winona knew full well that he hadn’t come down to wash, but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her.

  To her surprise he slowly untied the leather thong around his waist and dropped the cloth between his legs. She fell back into the water and nearly choked when she forgot to close her mouth and hold her breath.

  Of all the reactions she’d expected from him, his baring himself to her had been the last. She’d figured he’d shout, threaten and make her return. But not reveal himself.

  Standing back up, she wiped the water from her eyes. Clay hadn’t moved. She gulped. When they’d mated she hadn’t seen him. Only felt him. All of him. She suddenly felt very warm.

  “Did you change your mind?” Amusement edged his angry voice.

  Winona lifted a brow. She’d issued the challenge. He’d accepted. Now what? She smiled. She’d play. Having him ignore her had infuriated her. He wasn’t ignoring her now, so she couldn’t complain.

  Rising up onto her toes to reveal her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, she tilted her head back. “Um, no, not me. Have you?”

  Clay splashed into the water. Winona gulped. She should turn her head. It was one thing to eye him with wisps of fog blurring his image. It was an entirely different matter watching him come closer. Lifting her eyes to his, she caught his silent challenge.

  By the time he reached her she was more than uncomfortably aware of him—and desperate both for his touch and with the need to touch. She’d teased him on the trail by boldly kissing him to prove that he needed her. Her plan had served to remind her how much she’d needed him.

  Clay ducked down into the water and brushed past her legs as he moved to deeper water. Winona released her breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it. Deciding that she’d been a bit hasty in her challenge, she moved toward shore.

  An arm grabbed her by the knees and yanked her underwater. Winona barely had time to grab a breath of air before water closed over her. Her hair floated in all directions. She turned to shrug off Clay’s hands as he pulled her into deeper water.

  Dawn’s tiny finger of light pierced the water through the mist. The dark, murky lake water turned blue-white. Clay’s hair seemed liquid gold as his body shimmered in the light. Their feet tangled as they treaded water. Finally day propelled them up. She let out her breath and grabbed another just in case.

  Clay had other things on his mind. “You are a fool to play this game.” He pulled her close.

  Winona sighed when the tips of her tightly budded breasts were crushed against his chest. “It is no game,” she admitted, needing him to understand that what she felt for him was real.

  “You are innocent and naive.”

  Winona stopped him from saying anything more by placing a finger over his lips. “There are some things a woman just knows.” She put his hand to her heart “What I feel here is real.”

  Clay released her and started swimming toward shore. Winona lunged after him, and this time she shoved him beneath the surface. When he came up spluttering, they were closer to the shore. Both stood. Winona poked her finger into his hard chest.

  “We are meant to be together. Your soul calls to mine. You feel it. I know you do. The spirits brought you to me, and me to you.”

  “You think I lost my family and nearly died just so I could be here at this time for you?” He gave a bark of laughter.

  Winona didn’t back down. “Clay, I do not know why your family had to die. I do not know why you and Jenny were spared. But you were. You were meant to live.”

  Clay turned his back to her. “Maybe I would rather have died.”

  Placing her hands on his shoulders, Winona leaned her cheek against his shoulder blade. “No, your spirit chose to live. From what you said, you should have died but you did not. You chose life over death. You can tell yourself that you lived only for your sister, but you lived for yourself. I know this because there is so much life in you.” Winona paused but he said nothing.

  “Clay, once again you are being given that choice. To live or die.”

  Turning, Clay grabbed her upper arms and pulled her close. “I should live for you, is that what you believe?”

  Winona placed her arms around his neck. “No. You must live for yourself—for that boy buried deep inside you and for the man shaped by a tragic past.”

  “That man has nothing to offer.” Clay sounded desperate, as if he wanted to live but didn’t know how.

  “You are wrong. He has much to offer,” Winona whispered.

  Clay wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her—hard, deeply, full of desperate need.

  Winona opened her mouth and used her tongue to gentle him. Clay’s mouth softened. His kiss turned tender. Finally he lifted his head and scooped her up. He carried her out of the lake to a patch of grass near a stand of trees. The mist hung low and patchy. In the east, pale blue sky was just showing morning color.

  Winona rested her head on his shoulder. “I want to stay down here, with you. I want to share with you the beginning of this new day.” Her hand curved against his jaw. After today he probably wouldn’t allow her come down into the open, and she, in her need to protect him, would do her best to keep him hidden away as well.

  She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. Fear that she’d discovered love only to lose it made her skin crawl, and her arms tightened.

  “In case you are unaware, you have no clothing on, and it is cold.” He stopped to stare down into her eyes.

  Winona ran her fingers along his jaw. “Neither do you,” she said.

  Clay carried her to a spot near the lake and sat down, pulling her into his lap with her back to his chest. He bent his knees. Hers followed the line of his. Her buttocks rested against his manhood and her arms were wrapped beneath her breasts. His hands crossed over her arms and slid up and down her upper arms to warm her.

  Winona leaned her head back into the hollow of his shoulder and neck. “I love mornings.”

  “You are crazy,” he muttered.

  Winona laughed softly. Yes, she was crazy. She was suddenly sure of her love for this than who made her do things she’d never have thought she’d do—like let her arms drop so his hands slid down to cover her breasts completely. Her hands rose again to hold his arms to her. Content—for the moment—she waited for the sun to rise.

  Night Shadow watched Winona, no longer surprised by anything she did or asked. She had to be crazy, yet it was her unpredictable nature that he lov—liked. She fascinated him. Attracted him. Amazed him.

  He
wanted to be the man to put stars in her eyes and create the warmth of the sun in her laughter. He needed her smile to nourish him and set him free. Realizing his thoughts were taking him down a path he had no business traveling, he turned his attention to the sunrise—and the woman sitting naked in his lap as though she’d done this forever. Yet this was the first time she’d purposely revealed her body to him, and it had seemed as natural as breathing.

  Night Shadow rubbed his chin over the top of her head. She had scared him, telling him they were fated, that this was meant to be. How could he even think for a moment that his family had died so he could find happiness with this woman? Impossible! He’d never be able to live with that.

  But he couldn’t deny that he was alive. He’d been spared. Did he have the right to throw his life away? Was there a reason he’d been spared? Night Shadow closed his eyes.

  No, he refused to believe he’d been spared. He’d just been stubborn enough to live and not give his enemy the satisfaction of killing him. He’d lived only to find Jenny and prove to Henry Black Bear that he’d failed.

  But could there be more, as the woman in his arms kept insisting?

  The question raised doubts that he’d not known were there. But they were, and at that moment he admitted that they had always been there—he’d just buried them, refusing to acknowledge or find the answer to those questions.

  Burying his head in Winona’s neck, Clay, the man, sought distraction. He was still a coward.

  He still feared the answer, for it could very well change all that he’d become. And all that he’d based his life upon.

  Winona tipped her head to the side, inviting him to nuzzle the side of her neck. He could not refuse either of them. Not at that moment when, in their own sheltered world, life seemed perfect.

  He kissed her soft, dewy skin, ran his tongue along her jaw until she shifted her head back farther to offer her mouth to his. Holding her tight, Night Shadow felt Clay the man take over and merge with the hardened warrior. He became one man with only one need: this woman.