Melanie slipped farther back into the darker shadows of the wigwam, then stopped when she could go no farther. She leaned her back stiffly against a pile of bear pelts, watching the squaw begin to attentively bathe her chief. First she bathed the paint from his face, then moved the cloth to his massive copper chest.
Melanie scarcely breathed as she watched the squaw place her cloth into the water and then remove the chief's loincloth and moccasins, leaving him totally naked. Chief Gray Falcon's dark, penetrating eyes burned into hers as he watched her with a sort of amused interest, a mocking smile lifting the corner of his lips.
Embarrassed, stunned, and frightened, Melanie turned her eyes away, knowing now that the chief was being readied for a seduction.
Her own!
Her gaze went to the bows and arrows again. But she knew that she did not have a chance in hell of getting to use them. She could still feel the chief's eyes on her, watching.
A great flash of lightning showed through the smoke hole overhead and the ensuing burst of thunder made Melanie grab herself with her arms. She hugged herself, trembling, then looked slowly around when she heard the rustle of feet close beside her. It was Blue Blossom. She was changing the position of the smoke hole opening, for it had just begun to rain in torrents outside.
Her chore finished, Blue Blossom knelt down beside Melanie. She touched her face softly. "Do not be afraid," she whispered. "Nothing is going to happen to you. My chief is now going to get needed rest. He drank too much of the white man's firewater. I soon will bring you food to eat. Then you can rest again also."
Grasping this sudden chance at friendship, Melanie moved closer to Blue Blossom. "You speak English so well," she whispered, ignoring Gray Falcon's continued stare. "You do know Shane, don't you?"
"Yes," Blue Blossom said softly, lowering her hand to her lap. "We in this village all know and love Shane. And you do, also. I know why you are here. Is Shane well?"
"Very, but I am sure that by now he knows that I have been abducted and is very angry," Melanie whispered harshly.
"I know," Blue Blossom murmured, moving back to her feet. "I must ready my chief for his sleep."
The instant friendship gave Melanie a measure of hope, yet she knew that she must not expect anything from this woman who was being so attentive to her chief. She would most definitely not help Melanie escape!
She scooted back against the pelts again and observed the rest of the ritual being acted out before her eyes. She watched Blue Blossom spread some sort of oil over Gray Falcon's body, then wrap thick pelts around him. Next she spread a great heap of furs on the floor beside the fire and gently helped him down atop them.
After Blue Blossom spread another fur over him, she stepped out into the rain, but returned shortly, soaked, carrying a tray of food that she had protected from the rain by a covering of buckskin.
"Eat," Blue Blossom said to Melanie. She uncovered the food, displaying a mixture of boiled rabbit, baked fish, and fruit. "I must sleep beside my chief to keep him content."
Melanie nodded, stunned by Blue Blossom's sweet, generous nature. She plucked a piece of fish from the wooden tray and began eating it ravenously. Her gaze watched Blue Blossom's every movement, not at all surprised when she unashamedly undressed and dried her slim body off in front of her. Melanie was in awe of Blue Blossom, in how she so dutifully crept beneath the furs, to then mold her body against Gray Falcon's.
Melanie continued to watch and eat, then soon realized that both Chief Gray Falcon and Blue Blossom were sound asleep. Would this be the time to escape? Was the brave still guarding the wigwam, even though it was raining?
Shoving the food tray aside, Melanie crawled past the two sleeping figures. Rain splashed onto her face and into her eyes as she lifted the entrance flap. Wiping the rain from her eyes, she found that the brave was still standing there.
But she smiled smugly when she saw him look up into the sky, then jolt with alarm when another zigzag of lightning forked its way overhead, then straight down into the earth not far from the village. Surely he would give up his post soon and seek a drier, safer shelter! She would keep an eye on him.
But for now, the food was too tempting. Her stomach still gnawed with hunger. She crawled back to the food platter and began to eat an apple.
Unaware of being soaked to the bone or of the lightning popping and cracking all around him, Shane crept through the rain toward the Chippewa village. When he was only a few feet away he stopped and lunged behind a tree, having seen a brave standing guard outside Gray Falcon's wigwam.
Shane's jaw tightened and his eyes became two points of fire. The presence of a brave standing
guard outside the chief's wigwam was proof that something unusual had happened.
"She's there," Shane whispered, doubling a hand into a tight fist.
He hugged himself and hunched over in the rain. It was now falling so hard it was as though pellets were hitting his body. He looked at the brave again, knowing that he could be no less uncomfortable. If luck was with him, the brave would seek shelterat least for a while!
A smile lifted Shane's lips. He was right. The brave glanced nervously over his shoulder at the Chief's dwelling, and then in the direction of his own wigwam. In a matter of minutes he was fleeing toward it.
Shane stepped cautiously from behind the tree and made sure the brave went into his wigwam. When he did, Shane broke into a run until he was behind Gray Falcon's dwelling. Drawing his knife from its sheath, he inched his way around to the front, then leaned his ear to the entrance flap, listening. There was no sound except for Gray Falcon's snores.
Again Shane smiled. He recalled when Gray Falcon was a youth and had spent evenings in the forest with his friends, Shane among them. Gray Falcon had always kept everyone awake by his snoring. It seemed that he had not grown out of that habitas he had not grown out of his jealousy of Shane!
"If he so much as touched Melanie, I shall slit his throat!" Shane told himself, his fingers
clamped so hard around the handle of the knife his knuckles were white.
Anxious to see if Melanie was there, Shane slowly shoved the entrance flap aside and stepped into the wigwam. His eyes widened and his heart melted when he saw Melanie stretched out asleep on one side of the fire on a layer of mats, while Gray Falcon and Blue Blossom slept on the other. Gray Falcon had not harmed Melanie and it was obvious that he had no intention of doing so. He still slept with Blue Blossom.
Feeling much calmer, Shane went to Melanie and knelt down over her. He looked at her for a moment before awakening her, at this moment understanding just how much he loved her. It was a love that knew no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust. This sort of love would still stand, when all else had fallen. Shane would be half a man without her. He understood at this moment that he was ready and happy to place all of his past behind him for her sake.
Reaching a hand to Melanie's hair, he stroked his long, lean fingers through it. When she awakened and looked up at him, no words were spoken, nor were they needed. Her happiness was in her eyes, and in her smile. She moved into his arms and hugged him tightly.
Shane looked at Gray Falcon and did not hate him as much at this moment as he had thought he would when gazing upon the man who had stolen his woman!
Yet Shane had to let Gray Falcon know that he
had been here! That Shane was the one who had taken Melanie away from him!
When Shane saw Gray Falcon's hand lying at his side, palm side up, an idea struck him. There was one sure way that Gray Falcon would know that it was Shane! And it was the best proof of all, because it would say more than that! Gray Falcon would see proof of Shane's having given up all claim to a part of the Chippewa world! Shane would leave that which was most sacred to all Indiansthe long locks of his hair! When he parted with his hair, he would be saying a final farewell not only to Gray Falcon, but to the old chief and his old life.
Shane slipped slowly away from Melanie. He stared down at his
knife and his heart pounded, for since he had been a part of the Indian culture, he had learned to take pride in the length of his hair. It meant strength to the Indians. It was a cause for great pride.
Melanie paled as she looked from the knife to Shane. She started to reach for the hand that held the knife, to stop whatever he was considering, but she was too late. While he gritted his teeth and his eyes showed a strange sort of torment, he began cutting his hair.
Placing a hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp, Melanie watched until Shane had his hair cut clear around, from one side to the other, until its length was that which would lie just above the collar line of a shirt when he wore one.
Tears streamed down her face as Shane took the locks of hair and placed them gently in Gray
Falcon's outstretched hand. She did not know the meaning of the gesture, but she could tell that this ceremony Shane had chosen to do was very important to him. He hesitated before backing away from Gray Falcon, reaching a hand back to the hair, as though he was almost reconsidering leaving the hair.
Then Shane turned his eyes to Melanie. He went to her and placed a bear pelt around her shoulders and over her head and led her out into the rain. Lifting her up into his arms, he ran with her from the village. The rain was blinding in its force and cold in its sting, but he carried her through it to the forest and his horse. Placing her in the saddle, he mounted behind her and they rode off into the darkness.
Lightning continued to tear the heavens apart with its white heat. Thunder echoed through the forest. When lightning hit a tree and split it in half just ahead, and it fell with a loud thud in the stallion's path, the horse reared and whinnied, throwing Melanie and Shane to the ground.
Melanie cried out with pain, grasping hard onto consciousness. She reached for Shane, who lay too still in the mud.
Slowly her hand dropped to the ground and she too drifted into the black void of unconsciousness.
Chapter Twenty-five
There was now only distant, muffled thunder. The air was sweet with after-rain; the leaves of the trees were heavy with crystal droplets. Melanie awakened slowly to a sense of something warm stroking her cheek.
As she became more aware, she felt strong arms encompassing her. In flashes, the last moments before unconsciousness claimed her came to her. The flight from the Indian village. The pounding rain. The terrible thunder. The lightning! The horse rearing, tossing her and Shane from the saddle!
"Shane!" she gasped, tensing her body. She sighed heavily and relaxed when she looked up into the crystal blue eyes gazing lovingly down at
her. She snuggled more closely into his embrace. ''You're all right. God, you're all right."
"And you?" Shane asked, weaving his fingers through the wet tendrils of her hair.
"Just a bit achy," Melanie said, shivering as the damp night air reminded her that her clothes were wet and clinging. "I'm mainly cold."
She looked around her. Thank goodness the rain had stopped. Shane's handsome stallion was calm now, resting beneath a tree, nibbling the wet grass. Then she became aware of a strange sort of roof over her and questioned Shane with her eyes.
"This is a lean-to," Shane said, smiling his understanding down at her. "I built it quickly, to get you out of the rain."
"How long was I unconscious?" Melanie asked, easing away from Shane. She stretched her arms over her head, then smoothed a hand across both of her ankles. Despite the aching, she seemed to be in one piece. "How long were you?"
"Not long," Shane said. "The fall just stunned us."
He cupped her face between his hands and leaned closer. "Now that you are awake and I know that you are going to be all right, I would like to leave you long enough to build us a fire to ward off the night chill," he said. "We will stay long enough for you to get warmed, and then we must get you back to your home."
"Yes, Terrance will be sending out a posse for me, I'm sure," Melanie said, frowning. "If he even realizes I am missing. He stays drunk for the most
part nowadays." She drew her knees up before her and hugged them to her chest with her arms. "I so fear for him, Shane. No good can come from his habitual drinking."
"No, none," Shane agreed, rising to his feet. He was recalling Terrance carelessly firing at him, but he would not worry Melanie about it. She had been through enough tonight. "I will build that fire now."
"Shane, thank you," Melanie said. "Thank you for everything. Had you not come . . ."
Shane looked down at her. "But you knew that I would," he said, reassuringly. "And I did."
Melanie gestured with a hand toward his hair. "Your hair," she said, swallowing hard. "Shane, you cut it. Why? I know how proud you were of your hair or you would have cut it earlier."
"It had to be done for many reasons," Shane said flatly. "To Gray Falcon, many things will be made clear when he awakens and finds my locks of hair." He smiled suddenly. "I only wish I could be there to see his reaction!"
Laughing softly, Shane turned and began a search for dry wood, finding enough for a small fire beneath thick layers of leaves that hugged the trunks of the trees, and beneath outcroppings of rock at the foot of the butte under which the lean-to had been built.
Soon a fire was burning warmly. Melanie moved closer to it, letting the heat envelope her body.
"Remove your clothes," Shane said, slipping first his moccasins off, and then his fringed breeches. He stood naked over Melanie, reaching
for her hand. "You must get your clothes dry before we continue our journey homeward."
Melanie nodded. She rose to her feet and trembled inside as she slipped off first one garment, and then another. She hugged herself as she watched Shane carefully hang her clothes on the ends of the lean-to, so that they hung low over the fire. Then Shane went to his horse and removed two blankets from his saddlebag. When he returned, he placed one of the blankets around her shoulders, and one around his own.
Enjoying the warmth of the blanket, Melanie followed Shane's lead and sat down beside the fire again. The fire cast shadows onto his handsome profile and into his blue eyes, turning them golden. Just looking at him could steal her breath away. Just his touch would melt her insides!
But there was something amiss about him tonight that made her keep her distance. Though he had achieved a major goal, he still did not seem content. She had to believe that it was because of the ritual he had performed with his hair.
Or was it because he was tormented anew by having been in the Chippewa village and not being able to stay, to greet his friends? Would he forever be tormented because of having been sent from the village so unjustly?
"He did not harm you in any way, did he?"
Shane's sudden question, his eyes now on her, fixed and angry, made Melanie flinch. Then her insides mellowed when he placed a hand at her nape and began caressing her there with his fingers.
"No, he didn't harm me," she said, leaning into his hand. "But when he began drinking heavily, I became afraid. I expected him to rape me at any moment."
"I doubt that he would have," Shane said, looking away from her, into the fire. He was recalling his youth, when young girls from other tribes had openly pursued Gray Falcon because he was next in line to be chief and they wanted to share in such a noble life. Gray Falcon could have had them all, but did not. Though plagued by ugly jealousy, he was a man of morals. He had made his choice of woman now, and she apparently had joined with him willingly.
An involuntary shiver raced across Melanie's flesh when she recalled the moments alone in her bedroom with Gray Falcon. It would have been so easy for him then to assault her. He had held her pinioned to the bed for what seemed hours!
But he hadn't.
"No, I don't think he would have, either," she said in a rush. "His main concern was you, Shane. He abducted me only to prove to you that he could."
Letting her blanket flutter down from her shoulders, to drape loosely about her arms, Melanie moved to her knees before Shane. She looked at him, her eyes filled
with questioning. "Shane, where were you all day yesterday?" she asked.
Shane's gaze moved over Melanie. In the soft light of the fire, in the wide innocence of her eyes as she gazed intensely up at him, she looked so vulnerableyet so ravishingly beautiful. Her
hair picked up the flame of the fire in its folds, highlighting it in soft reds as it spilled over her creamy shoulders and down her back. The upper curves of her breasts were bare, tempting his lips to touch them.
Melanie's insides were growing hot with passion as Shane gazed down at her. His eyes branded her. His dark, finely chiseled face was taut with emotion.
Something compelled her to reach her hands to his blanket, to slowly lower it from his shoulders. When it dropped away and settled in a heap on the ground, his muscles stirred down the length of his tanned body as he, in turn, reached and took her blanket away from her.
At this moment she desired no answers from him.
She desired only him.
Drifting toward Shane, Melanie's heart pounded. She knew that what she had gone through today, and all yesterdays, had been worth it, if the end result was this moment alone with Shane. If there were no tomorrow, even that did not matter.
There was now. Only now.
Shane drew her into his embrace and held her tightly against him, her breasts pressed into his flesh, rendering him almost mindless. "Are you still cold?" he asked, his voice husky.
"How could I be cold?" she whispered, brushing her lips across his mouth. "Shane, your mere touch sets me afire."
Their bodies strained together hungrily as
Shane took her mouth by storm. His fingers ran down her body, caressing her, then clasped the softness of her buttocks. Lifting her, he guided her onto his lap.
Drugged by his kiss, Melanie slipped her legs around him and straddled him. She arched and cried out against his lips as he drove swiftly into her.
Melanie's blood quickened as Shane's thrusts propelled her into another world, a world of ecstasy. When his lips left her mouth and dipped low to flick over her hardening nipples, she held her head back and moaned with pleasure. His fingers raked lightly down her spine, over her silken hips, back around again to her buttocks.
When Passion Calls Page 23