Wild Whispers

by Cassie Edwards

  “Again you are telling me what I can and cannot do?” she marveled. “Damn. Hell. Shit. And I shall go on with more if I wish.” She laughed sarcastically. “What will you do? Wash my mouth out with soap?”

  “Soap?” Fire Thunder said, forking an eyebrow. “I have never known of anyone who washes their mouths out with soap. Have you done this before?”

  Seeing his innocence, and loving him so much she could not stay angry, she laughed softly and flung an arm around his neck.

  Smiling, she gazed into his eyes. That same sensual warmth spread through her as she became mesmerized anew by him. She wanted to fight off the rapture, yet it felt too wonderful to brush it aside so easily.

  She didn’t want to argue with him. And she knew that he did not mean to order her around.

  For some reason, he felt that she should not be in Moon Glow’s lodge. He was only looking after Kaylene’s best interest by scolding her so vehemently after having found her there.

  “No,” she murmured, “I’ve never washed my mouth out with soap, but perhaps I should. Those words I said are quite nasty. Cursing is not a normal thing for me to do. But . . . you . . . you . . . riled me so by ordering me around. I’m sorry I got angry at you.”

  “My anger at finding you at the ‘trotter’s’ house, and seeing you there with Running Fawn, was too quick,” Fire Thunder said, as they went inside his lodge. “I apologize.”

  He placed Kaylene on her feet. She loosened the leash so that her panther would have freedom of the lodge.

  Then she eased into Fire Thunder’s arms as he reached out for her.

  “Apology accepted,” she murmured. She stood on tiptoe so that she could brush a soft kiss across his lips.

  Then she eased from his arms and questioned him with her eyes as she gazed up at him. “That poor woman,” she said, her voice drawn,” she is so alone. Why must she live in such total isolation?”

  “That woman is a witch,” Fire Thunder said. He bent to lift a heavy log onto the fire. “My people have a great fear of witchcraft.”

  He looked over his shoulder at Kaylene. “Witches can cause terrible harm. It is best that you, who will soon live the rest of your life as the wife of a powerful Kickapoo chief, not associate yourself with the lowest form of life.”

  “If this woman is so horrible, and hated by so many, why is she allowed to stay in your village?” Kaylene said, kneeling down beside him. She reached a hand to his cheek. “She has not been totally banished. Why?”

  “Any old person is considered a witch, whether they are man or woman. They have lived many years and are thought to have acquired the power to transform themselves into anything they wish. Anyone whose conduct is in the least deviant is considered a potential witch. But as for Moon Glow? She is in my village, still, for a purpose,” Fire Thunder said.

  He placed his hands at Kaylene’s waist and yanked her to him. He eased her down on the floor on her back. He blanketed her with his body, a hand snaking inside her blouse.

  She closed her eyes and shivered in ecstasy when his hand kneaded one of her breasts.

  “What . . . purpose . . . ?” Kaylene managed to ask, sucking in a breath of rapture as his other hand smoothed its way up the inside of her skirt.

  When he cupped the soft furry patch at the juncture of her thighs, she closed her eyes and threw her head back in a guttural sigh.

  “Moon Glow absorbs the sins of others so that respectability can be returned to them. Mainly the young, who have a lifetime ahead of them that could be useful to my people,” Fire Thunder said huskily.

  “That is a strange belief,” Kaylene said, then recalled the elderly woman’s many cats. “Would having so many cats be looked on as something unnatural?”

  “Yes, to some; no to others,” Fire Thunder said. “You see, cats are kept by some as pets, partly because of the belief that mice chew off human hair to build their nests, causing the victim to lose his mind. Moon Glow keeps the cats to prove that her mind is still vital, although knowing that most think her crazed. Let us speak no more of her,” Fire Thunder whispered.

  He kissed Kaylene’s passion-moist lips. He found her mouth hot and sweet as she responded to his kiss.

  He teased and stroked the satiny skin of her inner thighs, and then thrust a finger inside her.

  She arched her hips as he moved his finger slowly in and out of her, his thumb grazing the core of her womanhood each time he withdrew his finger.

  “I love you,” she whispered as he kissed his way up her cheek and kissed her closed eyelids.

  “Say you want me,” Fire Thunder whispered, already pulling her skirt off.

  “I want you,” Kaylene whispered, opening her eyes to see the passion in his. “I need you.”

  Then she recalled what he had said earlier about her soon living the rest of her life with him as his wife.

  She trembled with wondrous joy at the thought of being able to share these moments they were sharing now whenever they pleased, as often as they pleased, forever.

  “I need you,” Fire Thunder said, shoving his breeches down to his ankles. “I love you.”

  “Take me, for I am yours to love,” Kaylene whispered, her face hot with a feverish fire of hungry need of him.

  She lifted her blouse over her head. She reached for his hands and placed them on her breasts.

  She closed her eyes and slowly tossed her head back and forth as he cupped her breasts and his tongue flicked from nipple to nipple.

  She opened herself more fully to him when she felt the heat of his passion probing between her thighs.

  She arched her hips upward and received him, softly crying out with ecstasy as he began his rhythmic strokes within her.

  He lay his cheek on hers. “I did not plan to do this,” he said huskily, sweat pearling his brow as he did not miss a beat inside her. “We must leave soon to collect Solomon’s seal for use in the New Year festival of my people.”

  “Solomon’s . . . seal . . . ?” Kaylene faintly heard herself saying, yet truly unconcerned. She was only aware of the wonderful sensations floating through her like warm waves of sunshine.

  She was only aware of her body responding to his, the pleasure building . . . building . . . building....

  White Wolf and Dawnmarie rode into San Carlos, glad to finally have reached the town where General Rocendo lived. If anyone could give them answers as to the whereabouts of the Kickapoo village, he could. He was in charge of this area of Mexico.

  White Wolf and Dawnmarie had been told that he was fair to the Kickapoo, yet hated the Comanches.

  They had been told that it was because of General Rocendo that the Kickapoo were in Mexico, under the best living conditions. He had been generous to them.

  Perhaps he would be as generous to Dawnmarie and White Wolf when they asked him about Dawnmarie’s kin, the Kickapoo.

  White Wolf helped Dawnmarie down from her horse when they reached General Rocendo’s villa on the outskirts of the city. They were in awe of his wealth. His villa spread out far on each side. There were many outbuildings. Cattle grazed in faraway pastures.

  When a large, imposing man, dressed in brightly colored casual clothes, came outside and stood on the porch, Dawnmarie smiled up at him.

  White Wolf stepped forward and offered a hand of friendship. “Are you General Rocendo?” he inquired, as he stepped up on the porch.

  General Rocendo, his large mustache covering his upper lip, his dark eyes beady as they stared from White Wolf to Dawnmarie, accepted White Wolf’s handshake. “Sí, sí, señor,” he said, nodding. “And you must be White Wolf? Your wife is Señora Dawnmarie?”

  “Yes, I am White Wolf. My wife is Dawnmarie,” White Wolf said, lowering his hand to his side.

  “Señor, word was brought to me that you were questioning about me,” General Rocendo said. He gestured toward the door. “I was told why. Come with me inside my villa. I will be glad to do what I can to help you in your search for your people, señora.”

&
nbsp; Smiling, relieved that her long journey was almost over, Dawnmarie went with the general and White Wolf into his vast, elaborate house.

  She welcomed the soft, plush cushion of a chair as she sat down in his parlor. She feasted her eyes on the grand, rich paintings that hung on the walls in gilt frames. She had never seen such beautiful furnishings, carpets, and paintings. She could tell by all of this that the general was quite a wealthy man.

  “And so now tell me about your journey to Mexico,” General Rocendo said, nodding to a maid who brought in a pot of tea and colorful, dainty teacups.

  Dawnmarie silently nodded a thank-you to the Mexican woman, then sipped the tea thirstily. Then she explained about her people, the Thunder Clan of Kickapoo.

  She smiled happily when his eyes widened in recognition.

  “Señora, your people live only a short distance from here in the mountains,” General Rocendo said, stroking his long, lean fingers through his raven-black hair. “I will send soldier escorts with you tomorrow to Fire Thunder’s village. You will spend the night? I have adequate bedding for overnight guests.”

  “Thank you,” Dawnmarie was quick to say, recalling the many nights spent on straw in barns, or on the cold, hard ground between blankets that had not kept her warm enough.

  “Señora, it is way past our supper hour,” General Rocendo said, going to Dawnmarie, helping her from the chair as White Wolf rose from his. “Let me take you both to your room. Then food will be brought to you. And warm water will be brought to you in your room for a bath.”

  Dawnmarie gave the general a grateful smile.

  After Dawnmarie and White Wolf were alone in their room, and had eaten, and bathed, she stood at the window and stared up at the mountain in the distance. She could see blazes of light. Surely she was seeing the Kickapoo’s fires.

  A shiver ran through her to know that she was finally close to her true people, her true destiny.

  White Wolf came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her back against him. “My wife, my beautiful wife,” he whispered, “are you happy?”

  “Oh, so very, very happy,” she murmured.

  He turned her to face him, then swept her into his arms and carried her to the huge, plush bed.

  When they made love, it was as though it was the first time.

  Chapter 16

  Say thou lov’st me while you live,

  I to thee my love will give.

  —ANONYMOUS

  “I’m not certain if I am well enough to ride a horse today, to go with you on your search for the “Solomon’s seal plant,” Kaylene said as she sat on the edge of the bed, slipping her foot into one moccasin, and then the other. She wore a long riding skirt made of calico, and a long-sleeved white blouse, her shoulder comfortably bandaged beneath it.

  “Would you rather stay behind?” Fire Thunder said, tying a bandanna around his brow as a headband to keep his hair back from his face. He wore a hunting shirt and fringed pants made of calico.

  “Do I have a choice?” Kaylene asked, surmising that he must think that if she was well enough to ride a horse, she was well enough to leave at her own will in his absence. “Dare you leave me alone?”

  “I doubt that you would leave now, even if given the chance to,” Fire Thunder said, reaching down and placing his hands to her waist. He drew her up before him and brushed her lips with feathery kisses.

  “Now can you truly be that sure of me?” Kaylene teased. She twined her arms around his neck, her eyes twinkling into his.

  “There is too much now that keeps you here,” Fire Thunder said, his lips tugging into a slow smile.

  “May I ask to what you are referring?” she asked, sending him a rueful, slow smile.

  “I am why you would not leave,” Fire Thunder said, chuckling low. “Surely you can’t live without my lips, my hands, my heat.”

  Blushing, Kaylene cast her eyes downward.

  He placed a gentle finger to her chin and lifted her face up to meet the passion in his. “My woman, is that not true?” he asked huskily.

  She smiled shyly and nodded. Then he swung away from her.

  She followed him into the living room, where Midnight was still stretched out asleep beside the fire.

  “Tell me, Fire Thunder, more about this Solomon’s seal,” she said as she watched him lift a rifle from his store of weapons at the far side of the room.

  He slipped a gun belt around his waist, a pistol heavy in one of the holsters. “Only clan leaders, the chief, can harvest Solomon’s seal, the magical plant of my people,” he said. He swung around and went and stood over her. “Although you do not see it, I carry some even now in a pouch in my breeches’ pocket. All warriors carry a bit of the magical plant. It is a guarantee against most dangers, including witches.”

  He nodded toward the door. “See that small pouch scarcely visible above the door?” he said. “In it is some Solomon’s seal. It prevents witches from entering.”

  “How intriguing,” Kaylene said, eyes wide.

  “Come,” he said, reaching a hand out for her. “I will tell you more about it while we are searching for some in the forest at the far side of the mountain. Little Sparrow will be staying with Gentle Doe and her family while we are gone.”

  “I do believe that I am able to ride a horse today,” she murmured. “I am scarcely aware anymore that my shoulder was injured.”

  She went to him and took his hand, then stopped and stared down at Midnight. “I’d best place my panther on a leash and secure him to a leg of the bed,” she said, drawing her hand out of Fire Thunder’s. “If he should awaken and find me gone, he might decide to come after me.”

  “Wake him and take him with us,” Fire Thunder said, glancing over at Midnight.

  “It’s enough that you have me to burden your search for the magical plant,” Kaylene said, laughing softly. “You don’t also need my panther, who might tire from the search, or decide to go romping after a rabbit, or whatever else it might decide to do.”

  “Yes, I imagine you are right,” Fire Thunder said. He stood beside the door as Kaylene gently awakened Midnight, then led him into the bedroom.

  Smiling, radiantly happy to be leaving for a special outing with Fire Thunder, Kaylene came back to him and took his hand. “Finally I am ready,” she said, smiling up at him.

  Fire Thunder opened the door, just to find Little Sparrow running toward him, crying, her one hand covering one of her ears.

  Fire Thunder lay his rifle aside and reached his arms out for his sister. “Little Sister, what it is?” he asked, as Little Sparrow flung herself into his arms.

  Little Sparrow told her brother in quick sign language that a spider had crawled into her ear while she had been playing. Her body became racked with harsh sobs. She clutched at her ear again.

  “Lord, no,” Kaylene gasped, kneeling beside Fire Thunder to place a comforting hand on Little Sparrow’s arm. “How did it happen, sweetie? How could a spider get in your ear?”

  Little Sparrow gave Kaylene a tearful glance, then gazed up at Fire Thunder again and told him more details. She had been playing in the trees and she walked into a web. A spider in the web crawled into her ear before she was able to stop it.

  She looked wild-eyed at Fire Thunder, her finger movements telling him that she knew the Kickapoo belief about never killing spiders. She had been taught that when Wisaka finished making the Indian world, he asked a spider to spin a strong web, with which he tied the world to the north so that it would not fall. Because of this, spiders were sacred. That was why she did not attempt to kill it before it crawled into her ear.

  She tugged and scratched at her ear, begging with sign language for Fire Thunder to remove the spider. She was afraid that it was going to bite her.

  Horrified by Little Sparrow’s predicament, Kaylene recalled a way the spider might be removed. “Fire Thunder, one time during my performance at the carnival, a lady bug crawled into a small child’s ear,” she said. “I watc
hed Mother remove it. I know what she did. I can do the same now for Little Sparrow.”

  “Do what you can,” Fire Thunder said. He lifted Little Sparrow into his arms and carried her into the cabin.

  Kaylene picked up his rifle and took it inside.

  Then she hurried to the stove and heated some water in a teakettle. After it had just reached the tepid stage, she took the water and a small wooden basin to Fire Thunder.

  Kaylene knelt down beside the bed where Little Sparrow lay. She told the child that what she was going to do wouldn’t hurt and when she was finished, Little Sparrow would be rid of the spider, and would, hopefully, be unharmed by it.

  She glanced up at Fire Thunder. “Please hold the basin beneath Little Sparrow’s ear,” she said softly. “As I pour the water slowly in her ear, the spider should be washed out into the basin.”

  He nodded and held the basin out beside the bed as Kaylene turned the child so that she would be lying on her side, over the basin.

  Scarcely breathing, Kaylene began slowly pouring the water into Little Sparrow’s ear.

  After only a few moments, the spider appeared in the water that flowed back from the ear. It was not a poisonous species. It seemed shaken itself from the experience.

  Fire Thunder plucked the spider out of the water, took it outside, and placed it on the ground. Then he watched it crawl away in a sodden, clumsy motion.

  He went back inside and stood at the door that led into the bedroom, touched by the gentle scene that lay before him. Kaylene had Little Sparrow on her lap, cuddling her close. She slowly rocked his sister as Little Sparrow clung to her, her cheek against Kaylene’s bosom. It looked as though Little Sparrow had found a second mother in Kaylene. That gave Fire Thunder a choked-up feeling to know that he had chosen well in women.

  Soon he would make her his wife.

  He went and crouched before Kaylene. He placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Tu medicina muy buen,” he said thickly.