Wolf Shadow

by Madeline Baker

  At dusk, she went outside, hoping to clear her head.

  And he was there, waiting for her, a blanket draped over his arm.

  “You!” she exclaimed softly. “What are you doing here?”

  He tapped one finger on the blanket. “I have come to court you.”

  She blinked at him. “Court me? You? But…but Strong Elk and I…”

  “Strong Elk is not here.”

  She felt a quickening deep inside her as Wolf Shadow unfolded the blanket and held it up, waiting for her to join him. Almost without conscious thought, she moved toward him, her heart pounding wildly as he enveloped them in the folds of the blanket.

  She shouldn’t be there, yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she was taking pleasure in his nearness, in the press of his hard-muscled thigh against hers, the scent of horse and sage and smoke that clung to him.

  “How long will you be staying here?” she asked, needing to break the heavy silence between them.

  “I haven’t decided.” She felt his gaze move over her face. “Maybe I’ll stick around long enough to see you get hitched.”

  “Hitched?”

  “Married.”

  Her eyes widened. She did not want Wolf Shadow to be there that day, refused to consider why she found the thought of his presence at her wedding so unsettling.

  His amused chuckle filled the air between them. “Do you want me to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” The question was a soft whisper.

  She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear, and she took a step away from him. “I do not know.”

  “I think you do.”

  His reply, and the truth in it, sent a shiver down her spine.

  He came courting the next night, and the next. She knew she should refuse to stand under the blanket with him but there was something about him she could not resist, something in his voice that captured her imagination, something in his eyes that held secrets she longed to know.

  It seemed she could think of nothing else, no one else.

  And then Strong Elk returned to the village.

  She saw him ride in with Two Beavers and Pony Boy. All three men led pack horses heavily laden with deer and elk. Strong Elk smiled at her as he drew near. He reined his horse to a halt and looked down at her.

  “Will you be outside this evening?” he asked.

  Winter Rain nodded, her heart pounding. What would she do if Strong Elk stopped by her lodge at the same time that Wolf Shadow came by?

  With a nod, Strong Elk moved on. She watched him ride to his mother’s lodge, where he unloaded a part of his kill before moving on to his own lodge.

  Winter Rain looked up at the sky. It would be dark all too soon.

  * * * * *

  She took special care with her appearance that night. She dressed in her prettiest tunic, the one with the red and yellow beading on the yoke. She brushed her hair until it was soft and shiny, spread a thin layer of red paint in the part. She pulled on her best moccasins.

  Mountain Sage regarded her preparations with a smile. “Strong Elk will be pleased,” she said.

  Winter Rain nodded. Strong Elk. Of course, she was dressing to please Strong Elk.

  It was full dark when she stepped out of her lodge. No sooner had she done so than Wolf Shadow appeared out of the shadows. It was in her mind to tell him he could not come courting any more now that Strong Elk had returned. It was a speech she had rehearsed carefully, but when she looked at Wolf Shadow, the words would not come. And when he opened his blanket, she moved to stand beside him.

  “I have waited all day for this moment.” He draped the blanket over their heads and shoulders, cocooning them in a world all their own.

  She could feel his heat beside her, the brush of his arm against her breast. Now, she thought. She had to tell him now.

  She was trying to form the words when he kissed her. His touch went through her like lightning. It seemed to draw all the air from her lungs, the strength from her legs, leaving her breathless and weak. She knew she would have fallen had it not been for his arms around her. It frightened her, the power of that kiss, the knowledge that she wanted more.

  “Why?” she gasped. “Why did you do that?”

  “Didn’t you like it?”

  “I am going to marry Strong Elk.”

  “I know.”

  She wished she could see his face and at the same time, she was glad she couldn’t. It was most confusing!

  And then, at the sound of Strong Elk’s voice, she froze. Flushed with guilt, she pushed away from Wolf Shadow. He lowered the blanket and Winter Rain found herself face to face with Strong Elk. She was taken aback by the anger she saw glinting in his eyes.

  Strong Elk’s gaze narrowed, moving from her face to Wolf Shadow’s and back to hers again. “I thought you would be waiting for me,” he said.

  She looked away from his probing gaze.

  “Winter Rain? We are to marry soon. Why do I find you with another man?”

  She looked up, her cheeks burning with shame. “Forgive me,” she said.

  Wordlessly, Wolf Shadow folded his blanket over his arm. He looked at her impassively for a long moment, and then he turned his back to her and walked away.

  Strong Elk put his arm around Winter Rain’s shoulders. “Tomorrow I will go to the land of the Crow.”

  “But you just returned home,” Winter Rain exclaimed. “Must you leave again so soon?”

  “I must steal horses to give to your father,” he said. “With your father’s permission, I think we should marry when I return.”

  She nodded, her gaze on Wolf Shadow’s back. “My father will be pleased.”

  Strong Elk unfolded his blanket and draped it over them. “And will you also be pleased?” he asked, his voice seeming muffled by the heavy cloth.

  Through a narrow slit in the folds of the blanket, she watched Wolf Shadow walk away, noting the confident, easy way he moved, the width of his shoulders. She lifted a finger to her lips, remembering his kiss. She felt bereft when he disappeared from sight.

  “Winter Rain?”

  She blinked up at Strong Elk as he lowered the blanket. “What?”

  “I asked if you would also be pleased?”

  Pleased? She stared at him. What had they been talking about? Oh, yes, talking to her father. “I think we should marry soon.” The sooner the better, she thought. When she was Strong Elk’s woman, she would no longer have to worry about Wolf Shadow coming to court her. She looked up at Strong Elk and forced a smile. “I am eager to be your wife.”

  She thought of those words later that night. Lying in her bed, she tried to imagine herself married to Strong Elk, but it was Wolf Shadow’s image that teased her dreams, Wolf Shadow who shared her lodge, and her bed.

  * * * * *

  Chance muttered an oath as he walked away from Winter Rain’s lodge. Strong Elk’s timing couldn’t have been worse. If the warrior had only stayed away another week, Chance mused, he might have won Winter Rain away from Strong Elk, and away from here.

  Leaving the village behind, he made his way down to the river. Shafts of yellow moonlight danced on the face of the black water. There might still be time, he thought. The attraction between himself and Winter Rain was real. With a little luck, he might still find a way to use that to his advantage.

  He stood there for a long while, listening to the soft whisper of the wind sighing through the trees, the gentle gurgle of the water skipping over stones, the faint chirr of the crickets, the low bellow of a bullfrog, the distant lament of a lonely coyote. They were sounds as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart. Sounds associated with his childhood.

  He had grown up here, with the Lakota. When he was old enough to leave his mother’s lodge, he had spent a part of each year living with his father, who had been known as Snow Wolf among the People. Chance had not understood why his father was different from other fathers, or why his parents did not live together all year long. He had
wondered about it until he was five or six, and then he had asked his mother why his father went away so often. She had explained to him that his father had a lodge of his own among the wasichu and that he had to return there from time to time to take care of it.

  Snow Wolf had come to visit them several times each year, always bringing presents for his Indian wife and his son.

  And then Summer Moon had been killed and Chance had gone to live in his father’s world. It had not been easy, being a half-breed in the wasichu world. At first, the people of Buffalo Springs had looked at him with suspicion, but they had gradually come to accept him. In time, he had learned a new way of life, but he had never forgotten his vow to avenge his mother’s death. He had learned to shoot, practicing with a Colt and a rifle until he could use both with the same skill and accuracy that he enjoyed with bow and lance. When he turned seventeen, he had gone in search of the remaining three men who had violated and killed his mother. He had nothing to go on but their names. Surprisingly, less than a month later he had found one of the men in a saloon in a small town not far from the ranch.

  He had followed the man until he got him alone, then called him by name.

  L.J. Weston had stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Who’s there?”

  Chance stepped out of the shadows. “Remember me?”

  “No, should I?”

  “You killed my mother four years ago.”

  Remembrance and recognition flared in Weston’s eyes. “You!”

  Chance nodded, his hand hovering over the butt of his gun. “Make your play.”

  Weston took a step backward. “I got no quarrel with you,” he said, and even as he spoke the words, he was reaching for his gun, pulling it from the leather.

  Too late. Chance’s Colt was in his hand before Weston’s gun cleared his holster.

  Chance had stared down at Weston’s body while he punched the spent cartridge from his gun but in his mind’s eye, it had been his mother’s body he had seen.

  He had found the next man in a fancy whorehouse in Kansas City a year later. Chance wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Luther Hicks or the woman he was with, when Chance burst into the room.

  The woman had screamed and dived under the covers. Hicks had stared at Chance for stretched seconds and then, as recognition dawned in his eyes, Hicks had made a mad grab for the holstered gun hanging from the bedpost.

  His gun had never cleared leather.

  Chance was replacing his Colt’s spent cartridge when the woman peeked out of the blankets. Her eyes went wide when she saw he was still standing at the foot of the bed.

  Chance had holstered his weapon, then withdrew a double eagle from his pocket and tossed it at her. She had caught it deftly in one hand, bit down on it, and smiled her thanks.

  “Sorry about the mess,” he had said, and walked out of the room.

  Now, as he turned away from the river, he wished he could as easily turn his back on the past.

  Chapter Six

  When Winter Rain woke the following morning, she wondered if Strong Elk had already left for the land of the Crow. He was a brave warrior, well respected among their People. She smiled inwardly. She knew he would return with many horses to offer her father, perhaps as many as ten. And hard on the heels of that thought she found herself wondering if Wolf Shadow would come courting while Strong Elk was away.

  Rising, she greeted her mother, who was preparing the morning meal. It was one of Winter Rain’s favorites, gooseberry mush.

  Mountain Sage nodded in return, her expression troubled. “Strong Elk came by early this morning. He wished to see you before he left, but you were still sleeping. He was displeased to find you with another warrior last night.”

  Winter Rain nodded. “I have told Wolf Shadow that I am to marry Strong Elk, but…” She shrugged. “He does not seem to care. I did not mean to upset Strong Elk.”

  “It is good for a man to be jealous from time to time,” Mountain Sage replied. She looked at her daughter thoughtfully. “Does it matter to you that Wolf Shadow does not care?”

  “No, of course not,” Winter Rain said quickly. “Strong Elk wishes for us to marry when he returns from the land of the Crow.”

  “So soon?”

  “Yes. You do not approve?”

  Mountain Sage looked pensive for a moment, and then nodded. “I had thought of waiting until the spring, but I do not think it is wise to wait.”

  Winter Rain didn’t think so either until later, when she went down to the river to bathe and saw Wolf Shadow standing on the bank, his back toward her, his arms raised over his head in prayer.

  She had not thought of him as a man who greeted the new day in prayer to Wakan Tanka. She had not thought of him as being one of the People in his heart. Hadn’t he come here to take her back to her wasichu parents? Though he had said no more about it, she didn’t think he had forgotten about it. It was another reason to marry Strong Elk as soon as possible.

  She knew she should leave. A man deserved privacy when he said his prayers, yet she found herself taking a step closer, her curiosity overwhelming. What did he pray for?

  Her gaze moved over him, noting again the width of his shoulders, the way his back tapered to a tight waist, narrow hips and long legs. She stopped wondering what it was he prayed for and wondered instead what it would be like to run her hands over the muscles in his arms, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.

  She froze as a leaf crackled beneath her foot. Had she been paying more attention to what she was doing and less to the man before her, he never would have known she was there.

  Drawing the knife from the sheath at his side, Wolf Shadow whirled around, every muscle taut. He relaxed visibly when he saw her.

  “We meet here far too often to blame it on coincidence,” he remarked, sheathing his knife. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were following me.”

  “I am not! This is my place. I told you that.”

  “Then maybe I’m following you,” he replied with a teasing smile.

  “You are wasting your time if you are,” she replied with a toss of her head. “I am to marry Strong Elk. He is strong and brave and will make me a fine husband.”

  “So you said.”

  “He has gone to the land of our enemy to steal horses. We will marry when he returns.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. I did not mean to interrupt your prayers,” she said, and turned to leave.

  She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when she felt his hand close around her arm. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, made her heart race in anticipation.

  “Don’t go,” he said, and turned her around to face him.

  “What do you want of me?” she asked.

  “What do you think I want?”

  “To take me back to the land of the wasichu, but I will not go, and you cannot make me.”

  His hand tightened on her arm. “That’s only part of it.”

  She gasped as he drew her up against him.

  “This is the other part,” he said, his voice husky, and then he lowered his head and kissed her.

  As it had before, the first touch of his lips on hers stole the strength from her legs, the breath from her lungs. She clutched his shoulders, wondering what magic he possessed, what power he had over her that made her react so strangely. His lips moved over hers, eliciting myriad sensations in her body and evoking sensual images of the two of them in her mind.

  Chance swore softly as he let her go. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to seduce her, right here, right now, and then where would he be? He wasn’t looking for a wife, didn’t have the time or the inclination to settle down. All he wanted to do was collect the reward for returning Winter Rain to the Bryants, pay off the loan at the bank, and find the last of the men who had killed his mother. Until then, there was no place in his life for a woman, even if she had a cloud of rich brown hair, eyes as blue as the sky overhead, and a way of kissing that set his blood on fire.


  “The water’s yours,” he said curtly, and turning his back on her, he headed upstream. If he was lucky, the water would be cold enough to put the out the flames.

  When Chance got back to Kills-Like-a-Hawk’s lodge an hour later, he found his cousin sitting outside, surrounded by a group of young boys and girls, all listening in rapt silence as Kills-Like-a-Hawk told how the Lakota came to be.

  Having nothing else to do, Chance sat down to listen.

  “It was in the long ago time,” Kills-Like-a-Hawk was saying, “when the world was new, that the Lakota came out from the middle of the earth. They were all one people then. They made one winter camp. They had but one council fire. Many years passed. After a time, some of the People did not return to the winter camp and when they did join with the original camp, they kept their own council fire. They were called tonwan because they wanted to be separate from the others.

  “As time went on, others decided they, too, wished to be separate, until there were seven council fires. While each tonwan was separate, they remained friends, so they called themselves Lakota, and they were allies against all other peoples.

  “When all the Lakota come together, each tonwan placed its lodges together and built their own campfire. But the original tonwan was given the place of honor. Over time, the Tetons became very powerful and warlike and they usurped the place of honor which had been given to the original tonwan, and that is why the Tetons now have the place of honor in our camp circles.”

  Kills-Like-a-Hawk nodded once, indicating that the story was over.

  It was a story Chance had heard often growing up and had, for the moment, taken his mind off Winter Rain. But only for a moment.

  With a shake of his head, he went out to the herd to check on his horse.

  * * * * *

  Winter Rain sat in the shade with Dawn Song, keeping her best friend company while she looked after her four-year-old sister who was asleep inside the lodge. Dawn Song was slightly taller than Winter Rain. She was a pretty girl with a wide generous mouth, heavily lashed black eyes, and a fine straight nose. She was a year younger than Winter Rain.