by Sandi Rog
“Why’d you keep this from me?”
“I was going to tell you. After . . . tomorrow.” She wanted to say after she found what she was looking for, but all her former reasoning sounded silly now.
“How long have you known?”
“A . . . well, a couple days.” She swallowed hard.
His eyes darkened. “At the dance? You knew then?”
She nodded, slowly lifting her chin then letting it fall. She wanted to explain herself, but the words lodged in her throat as she watched his eyes turn cobalt blue and his face harden in contained fury.
He turned and grabbed her cloak from behind the door. In one sweep he wrapped it over her shoulders. “You’re coming with me, wife.” He swung her up in his arms and carried her to the door.
Numb with shock, she clung to him as he marched with her down the stairs, out of the shop, and kicked the front door closed.
On the way to his hotel she couldn’t speak, the lump in her throat had become so thick she could barely breathe.
The porter held the door open when he saw them coming.
Shame swept through her at being seen in such a state. Anna hid her face in White Eagle’s neck, and immediately his wonderful leather scent assailed her. If he weren’t so angry, sending ice-cold chills running through her limbs, she would have reveled in this moment in his strong arms.
He marched with her up the stairs and down the hall to his room.
Once inside, he set her down on the edge of a large bed, his eyes blazing. His dark hair flowed down his broad back as he turned to slam the door. He then paced from one end of the room to the other.
She waited, quivering hands folded, in silence.
He panted, drawing her attention to the powerful chest beneath his white cotton shirt. His black leather vest hung open, and his belt buckle shimmered at his waist.
He reminded her of a panther, waiting impatiently for its meal. She’d read about one once, and now she wished she’d kept her nose out of all those books. Obviously, he wasn’t finished with her yet, and she wondered how much would be left of her once he was through chewing her to bits.
Eyes narrowed, he faced her. “I’ve let you have Denver City. I’ve let you have your freedom. Well now it’s gone, whether you like it or not.” He spoke so quickly his accent became more pronounced, and that’s when she realized, all this time she’d heard that unusual accent, it had been French.
The fierceness in his stance and dark gaze kept her from uttering a word.
“And don’t think I want you now just because you’re carrying my child. I know how you think, Morning Sun. And I want it to stop, right now. No more doubts, no more fears.” His eyes flashed. “My love for you is like a torch,” he said between clenched teeth. “A torch that burns so strong it can’t be put out.” He bent over her, inches from her face. “It consumes me.”
A sharp, almost painful tingle shivered from her hairline down her spine.
“You will come back to my village.” He straightened. “And you will be my wife!”
His words were like a fierce wind. What could she say, how should she respond? She agreed plenty with what he said, but she continued to quake as the speech she’d prepared moments before vanished from memory. She wanted to make things right. To tell him she’d been wrong for running from him, for keeping the knowledge of their baby from him.
“I’ll go back with you, White Eagle,” she whispered, still reeling from the thunder of his words. “And I’m not going back because you’re making me,” she said, her voice breaking past her tight throat. “I refuse to be your captive. I’m going back of my own free will . . . because . . . I love you.”.
He straightened to his full height, lifting his chin in that arrogant Cheyenne tilt she’d come to know so well.
Her gaze dipped from his belt buckle all the way down to his feet, where she had expected to see boots, but in their place were moccasins. No matter what, he would always be Indian, and that thought made her love him even more. The long silence filled the room like a thick fog. Awaiting his response felt like she had to hold her breath for an endless amount of time. She averted her gaze from his feet and stared down at the bearskin rug.
Taking a deep breath, she dared to meet his gaze again. “I should never have planned to leave Jack’s on my own, or kept the knowledge of our baby from you. Please, forgive me,” she whispered, tears threatening.
He knelt in front of her and seized her shoulders.
She stiffened, preparing herself for a shaking, but he dropped his head and wept.
Stunned by his silent reaction, she clung to him. The power of his emotion swept over her like a wave, the storm of his pain melting into her. She clung to him, stroked him, as tears burned a path down her cheeks.
He truly loved her. She wanted to revel in it, to wrap herself up in it. He’d loved her enough to set her free, despite how much it tortured him. And now, the depth of his love pierced her through.
She’d never doubt him again.
More tears trickled down her cheeks as she kissed his head. She ran her fingers through his hair and toyed with the leather band he always wore behind his ear. Sweeping through his long raven strands, she watched it shine against her white skin.
This was her man, her wild man. And she loved him.
Eyes shimmering and hot, he peered up at her, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “Morning Sun,” his voice caught as she ran her fingers over his jaw. “You brought me face-to-face with my worst enemy.”
Her hand stilled.
“I don’t mean you, or Chivington, or Denver City for that matter. I mean . . . myself.” He took a deep breath, his eyes still intense. “‘Walks Alone’ should have been my name.” He shook his head. “It’s as if all these years I’ve been wandering the plains at night, lost and alone, until your light showed me the way. Ma’heo’o brought you to me. You are my morning sun.” He kissed her forehead then brushed her eyelids with his trembling fingers. “I thought God was far away from me.”
He leaned in closer to her, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. “I’m sorry for what your uncle did. I’m sorry you had to suffer so much. But God’s timing was perfect when he brought us together.”
“Brought us together?”
“Yes.” White Eagle smiled. “There was a reason you left your uncle when you did.”
A reason for all that waiting? All Anna knew was that God hadn’t answered her prayers soon enough.
“Don’t you see? God used you to help me find Him again.”
God used her? Beth’s words from that day in the woods flooded into her mind. She’d said that God was using Anna to His glory. That there was a reason Anna was there. But in all practicality, Anna hadn’t done anything. She didn’t reveal her faith to his people, or to him.
“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he whispered.
Their fingers intertwined, her fingers spread wide between his thick ones, and slowly he kissed her.
Dare she believe? Dare she hope? Could God have truly used her? As weak as her faith was, God found a way to use her to help White Eagle. It seemed unreal. But all things were possible with God. So maybe there was a reason God took so long to answer her prayers.
God knew exactly what He was doing. And He used . . . he used White Eagle to help her. To help her understand. To show her that God works all things out for good.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Morning Sun.” The voice belonging to the man she loved carried through Anna’s dreams. Her neck tingled and her eyes fluttered opened to find White Eagle nuzzling her. She was in his lodge, their lodge, surrounded by buffalo skins and a warm fire burning in its center. Three months had passed since they’d left Denver City, and they were nearing the end of winter in the Rocky Mountains.
“Good morning,” he said, his hair brushing over her cheeks. He gazed down at her, eyes glimmering and bringing to mind the clear lake outside the village. She hoped her baby would in
herit their blue-green color and his dark lashes—like turquoise set against black velvet.
She lazily twirled a yellow lock of hair between her fingers and held it next to his. “What color hair do you think our baby will have?” she asked, and brushed the dark and light strands over his cheek.
Backing away from her, he chuckled. “I have something for you.” He lifted a small chain from beside the bed. A necklace. It matched her wedding ring. “This used to belong to my mother,” he said, draping the necklace around her neck. “I want you to have it.”
She pushed up on her elbow and looked down at the necklace. She held her ring next to it. Both had a turquoise stone the shape of a sparrow—like his mother’s name. “You mean, from the very beginning you had given me something dear to you?”
“You were as much my wife then as you are now.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Rest now. I’ll collect the wood.”
Touched that he gave her something so valuable, she nodded. “Promise me you’ll be back.”
“Promise me you won’t leave before I get back.” He smiled.
“I promise,” she said, a grin tugging on her lips.
White Eagle gazed into her eyes. “From the moment I first saw you, I wanted you.”
Anna feathered her fingers along White Eagle’s jaw line. “I’m glad you took me.”
“I’d do it again.” The determination in his gaze sent shivers down her spine.
Late in the afternoon, Anna twisted her yellow braid as she read her mother’s Bible. Caught up in the words, she soaked in the knowledge and closeness of God.
After an hour, she set her Bible down, and the words she just read turned over in her mind. God wanted her to cast all her cares on Him because He cared for her? How amazing was that? She leaned over her swollen belly and picked up some sinew to repair White Eagle’s summer moccasins. She ought to share what she just read with Beth. Life at the village was good. She and Beth had so much fun sharing their pregnancies together and learning all the customs of pregnant women and new mothers. Beth had always been an encouragement to Anna. Maybe now, Anna could be an encouragement to her. She chuckled. Beth probably already knew this verse.
Knowing that God was there with Anna during that difficult time with her uncle reminded her of Jonah. Like White Eagle said, Jonah prayed to God from the depths of the ocean and from inside a fish of all places. To think, God cared enough to listen, even after Jonah ran from Him, even after he’d disobeyed God. And because of Jesus’ sacrifice, nothing could keep her from God. Nothing.
Yes, she’d cast all her cares on Him, because He did care. For now on, she would trust in Him.
~*~
Smoke streamed into the crisp air through the top of each lodge. The scent of elk meat wafted over White Eagle as he made his way home. He couldn’t wait to be with his Morning Sun.
Anna.
It hardly seemed real that he had a wife and a child on the way. He’d finally have a family.
Shouts and war cries carried on the air. White Eagle turned to see Running Cloud galloping toward him.
“It’s Black Bear!” he shouted. Running Cloud reined in. “Do what you must to end this war.” He tossed White Eagle a shield and galloped to where gunshots thundered through the air.
White Eagle ran to get his horse. He knew that was Running Cloud’s way of giving him permission to kill Black Bear, his only brother.
Mounted, White Eagle arrived amongst the fighting warriors. He had hoped Black Bear had given up, but he had apparently been collecting his own group of braves to come back and fight. Yellow Leaf stood at a distance, waving a blanket. White Eagle blocked a flying arrow with his shield and urged his horse away from the fighters.
Yellow Leaf held the blanket up to him. “This belonged to Running Cloud and Black Bear’s mother. I’m too old to fight, but maybe if Black Bear sees this, his heart will soften toward you and his brother.”
White Eagle snatched up the blanket and tossed Yellow Leaf a quick nod. It seemed a strange idea. He doubted it would ease the rage in Black Bear. But out of respect for Yellow Leaf, he would try. He wrapped the blanket over his free arm so that it could easily be seen.
“Where’s Morning Sun?” he asked Yellow Leaf before wheeling away.
Yellow Leaf shrugged. “In your lodge.”
White Eagle cringed. If Black Bear’s braves knew she belonged to White Eagle, they’d know where to find her. He had to get to her.
War cries pierced his ears as he neared the battle in the middle of the village. Black Bear’s twenty braves against their seventy didn’t have a chance, and yet Black Bear kept fighting, hoping to win over more braves from the village to his side. White Eagle’s gaze darted from one lodge to the other. Running Cloud’s lodge was the only one in flames and White Eagle’s was too far away to be seen; he prayed Anna was safe. He dodged another arrow and raced toward the sounds of exploding rifles.
He spotted Running Cloud and Black Bear mounted on their horses and face-to-face in combat. Their rifles lay on the ground, and they each swung tomahawks. Black Bear wore the headdress of buffalo horns, and red paint covered his face, typical for Black Bear. Black stripes raged down the sides of his face, accentuating the rage in his heart. He threw his tomahawk at Running Cloud and missed. One of Black Bear’s warriors raced past the two brothers and tossed a lit torch. Black Bear snatched it out of the air and waved the torch at his brother. All Black Bear had to do was take out Running Cloud and White Eagle, and the other warriors would submit in defeat.
White Eagle dodged the swing of another warrior’s tomahawk then grabbed his dagger. He threw it at the warrior. The man fell back, his buffalo headdress toppling as he dropped to the ground.
White Eagle set his heels in his horse’s flanks. He charged between Running Cloud and Black Bear. He held the shield between him and the torch. At the same time, he waved the blanket in hopes that Black Bear would spot its colors and patterns and recognize them as his mother’s.
White Eagle turned and shouted, “Black Bear! I come in peace.” He waved the blanket. “We’re all brothers. Let’s end this war between us!”
Black Bear’s eyes narrowed when he saw the blanket, but quickly he glared at White Eagle. “Yellow Hair must belong to you!”
White Eagle’s horse danced in agitation from the tension that radiated from his hot body.
“You never wanted our kind. You are more white than Cheyenne. No white man, or woman, will survive in this village when I am war chief.”
Black Bear jerked on the reins, turned, and raced toward White Eagle’s lodge. In a cold sweat, White Eagle galloped after him as they approached his home.
Black Bear waved the torch at the lodge. “Today, your woman will die!” He threw the fire.
“No!” White Eagle tossed the blanket and scooped the flaming torch from the air. He snapped it back and released it as he raced past his old friend.
The blanket wrapped around Black Bear, and the flames engulfed him. His horse bucked, throwing him down on his back. Screaming, he wrestled with the cover of flames. The fire burned, sending sick wails and shouts from the thick, smoldering mass.
White Eagle dismounted, unsure how to rescue his friend.
Running Cloud appeared at his side and armed his bow. The arrow flew, and the wails ceased. His face fell, torn in anguish, as he stared at his brother’s burning, lifeless form. Slowly, his gaze lifted to White Eagle.
They stared at each other in silence as tendrils of smoke drifted before them.
“His anger destroyed him, not you,” Running Cloud finally said, his voice solemn. He stared again at his brother. Finally, he grabbed the reins of Black Bear’s horse, let out a whooping cry and raced after the other fighters to reveal the death of their leader.
White Eagle dropped to his knees on the cold hard ground. “Forgive me, Lord.” The smoke carried up to his nostrils, threatening to choke him.
~*~
Anna wasn’t in White Eagle’s lodge.
He desperately searched the entire village for her. He also couldn’t find Runs With Wind, Beth, or Song Bird. His search brought back forbidden memories. “God, please don’t let this happen again.” Finally, he headed toward the trees where several women and children had escaped to safety. But no Morning Sun.
A silver chain, lying in the dirt and snow, caught his eye.
He trudged over to it and knelt down to pick it up. As he drew it over his hand, a turquoise sparrow fell into his palm. His mother’s necklace; Anna’s necklace. Memories and the pain of Sand Creek jolted through his gut, the burning lodges, the moaning sounds of death, the blood in the snow.
He glanced around. Black Bear’s men were gone. A certain dread turned in the pit of his stomach. He squeezed the necklace in his fist.
~*~
Anna had been sewing in the lodge when she remembered her pouch of fake jewels. She’d wanted to surprise Runs With Wind with them, and she’d thought that moment would be a perfect opportunity to give them to her.
She’d put on the thick rabbit boots with buffalo lining that White Eagle had made. After tying her jewel pouch to her waist, she’d slipped on her buffalo cloak and muff and headed outside.
Anna had hurried along, anxious to surprise Runs With Wind, when shouts and gunfire carried into the air from the other side of the village.
Song Bird came around a lodge and stopped. She turned to the awful sounds. “Black Bear!” She faced Anna and pointed to the trees in the distance. “Run!”
Anna ran toward the trees, but with each step she took the gunshots grew louder. She scurried between lodges, and other villagers ran as well.
“Cover your hair!” someone shouted in Cheyenne as she ran by. She had no idea who said those words. If Black Bear saw her blonde hair, he’d try to kill her. She tugged on her hood as she left the lodges behind, but it fell right back off. She jerked on it again, but the hood kept snagging on her necklace. Several women and children ran ahead of her, and she followed their tracks toward the trees. She spotted Beth and Laughs Like A River. Beth faced Anna, and her eyes widened and she screamed.