Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  "I said get in there!" He shouted in a rage. "Now do as I say before I lose my temper!" He gave her a shove, pushing her into the ice house and knocking her to the ground.

  For a long time Katelyn lay on her side in a ball, sobbing in the darkness. Why did nothing ever work out? Why hadn't she just been able to slip away into the darkness? It seemed so unfair! All she wanted was Fox. Tears ran unchecked down her face as she cried for what she wanted so desperately, but was seemingly unobtainable. I don't even know where he is! Frightened and alone, she spent the rest of the night huddled on the dirt floor, too fearful to even move.

  Early the next morning, Henry returned with a blanket, some food and some water. At the flood of bright morning light, Katelyn cringed, shielding her eyes.

  "Here is something to eat." Henry flung her the stolen flour sack and the old woolen horse blanket. "Though I don't much believe you deserve it."

  She stared at him coldly, watching him put the water crock down inside the door. She said nothing.

  "Today some friends are coming to hunt, so I won't be back until late tonight." He started to close the door and then opened it again. "Oh, don't look for the knives you stole from my kitchen. They've been returned. Also, don't bother to scream. I've given most of the servants the day off. And even if they did hear you, no one would dare let you out." He leaned on the doorway, brushing the velvet of his coat. "No one would blame me for locking you up, as crazy as you are. I have the right, you know. You're my property. I own you. That piece of paper your father signed sold you to me." Bowing grandly, he backed out the door and slid the heavy bolt home.

  Katelyn let out a great sigh of relief as he banged the door shut. His anger had abated, so she was probably safe. He seemed dangerous only when he became angry and out of control. Now he was simply smug. Using the dim light that seeped through the cracks in the roof, Katelyn retrieved the jug of water and drank thirstily. The she found an oatmeal cookie in the bag and started to eat it. If he's feeding me, he doesn't intend to kill me, she surmised.

  Munching on the cookie, Katelyn surveyed her surroundings. By the dim light, she could see that she'd been smart to stay where she was last night. She found that she was sitting on a platform. Only a few steps into the ice house there was a deep recess where the ice was stored below ground in the summer to keep it better insulated. Though the hole was only four to five feet deep, had she fallen into it in the dark, she might have broken her neck, or done injury to the baby. She could also guess that it would be very easy to fake an accident, if Henry wanted to.

  With that thought in mind, Katelyn spent the rest of the day locked in the ice house, huddled in the corner with the horse blanket, praying Tipaakke was on his way to save her.

  Tipaakke paced the hardened dirt floor of his father's wigwam, his face taut, his fists balled at his sides. His limp was only slight. "You do not understand, Father," he repeated in his native tongue. "I must look for her. I must find her, dead or alive."

  The old white-haired Delaware brave nodded evenly, his pipe clenched in his teeth. "There will be time for that after the council meets."

  "No, my Father. There isn't time. I've already lost so many days. I have a responsibility to her."

  "You have a responsibility to your people as well, my son." Kukuus released a puff of smoke from his mouth and watched it curl above his head.

  "I know I do, but . . . " Tipaakke didn't know how to make them understand. Why did the council have to meet tonight? How could he make his father understand how important Katelyn was to him. He looked at his father sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Father, don't you remember what it was like to love a woman?" He kneeled before him.

  Kukuus threw back his head, laughing. "You think I am old, my son." He shook a bony, wrinkled finger. "But I am not that old. I still remember the first time I saw your mother as if it were this morning." He patted his own cheek. "She had a face the gods could be jealous of." He smiled, the memory of Silent Wind washing over him.

  "Then you should remember why I must go now." Tipaakke gazed into his father's ebony eyes. "Call off the council meeting, just for a few days. I won't be gone long."

  "No. Kukuus shook his head adamantly. "I cannot. We must meet immediately."

  "What is so important that we can't wait a few days?" Tipaakke got to his feet. "Hawk, you talk to him. You explain why I must go."

  Mekollaan got to his feet, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "I will not come between you and Father over this. You must settle it."

  "But you said you would help me find Katelyn." Tipaakke faced his brother.

  "I have more than one loyalty, just as you do, Fox. I love you, you are my brother. And I say I will help you because you are my brother and you ask. But I also love my people and I must do what they ask. They ask that we meet for High Council at sunset." He ran his hand over his black scalplock. "You must be there, too."

  Tipaakke looked from his father to Mekollaan and then back again. His heart was torn between those of his own blood and the one person that made life worth living. How could he decide who was more important?

  Kukuus watched his two sons, his heart swelling beneath his breast. They were good men, both of them playing off the other's strengths and weaknesses. They would guide their people well, once he was gone. Silently he sat, waiting for the younger son's decision.

  Tipaakke stared off into space, his mind spinning in a thousand different directions. He had to find Katelyn, but he needed his brother's help. He suddenly had a feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. He thought he knew where she was. He turned to face his brother, his friend. "Yes, I will stay for the council meeting, and then we will set out." He put out a hand to rap Mekollaan in the chest. "You and I, we will find my woman, and we will bring her home to my wigwam."

  Kukuus, chief of his people, nodded his head in agreement, proud that the Fox had been able to make such a difficult decision.

  The fires burned brightly and the women chanted ancient songs of what had passed, and what was yet to come. Single file, the council made their way to the Big House in silence. As they passed onto sacred ground, they cleansed their minds, preparing to listen and speak with their hearts. Only the chief of the Lenni Lenape knew what would be discussed this evening, but all knew a grave situation was at hand. Why else would the chief call the council so quickly?

  The men and woman of the sacred council gathered in the circle their grandparents had gathered in. Each knew his place; they had been born knowing. Each man and each woman played a part in the delicate balance of nature. It was here in this circle that laws were created and all important decisions concerning the tribe were made.

  Kukuus entered the Big House first, followed by his sons, Mekollaan and Tipaakke; behind them came the other members of the council. At the end of the long line, the Shaman danced, singing and waving his magical burning sticks. He called to the gods, praising their wisdom and requesting their guidance. Deep in a mystical trance, he sprinkled the seated council members with a dust of truth. Here, in the circle, all men and women spoke what they truly thought, what they felt in their hearts. There was no deceit, no concern for what should or should not be said. Here, the gods guided their words.

  After a long silence, Kukuus raised his head, staring into the eyes of each member one by one. Then he spoke, his words echoing between the walls. "My people, tonight we gather for two reasons." He spoke in the Algonquian tongue, his voice strong and even. "We must decide on two separate matters." He took his time, taking a puff of his long-stemmed pipe. "The first is my concern for who will care for you when I leave this world. I have thought long of this and have decided that both of my sons should be chief when the time comes."

  Tipaakke glanced behind his father's head, his eyes meeting his brother's. He could tell Mekollaan had already known of this, and was pleased by it.

  The old man continued to speak, ignoring the whispers of the council members. "I now ask for your thoughts on this matter, brothers and si
sters."

  An older man stood. "There has never been such a thing. We have always had one chief." He held up a finger. "One tribe, one chief. It is the way it has always been."

  Kukuus nodded. "This is true. But life changes. The land changes. And we must change if we are to survive. Together, I think my sons will serve you well. Both have good qualities, admirable qualities. Mix those qualities," he intertwined his fingers, "and you have a stronger chief."

  Won came to her feet, waiting until Kukuus nodded, giving her permission to speak. "I think this is wise. Together, your sons will lead well." She nodded her head. "I am ready for change, Great Chief of the Lenni Lenape people."

  Tipaakke listened as the council members each had their say. He was in shock. Never in the history of their people had two men ruled at the same time. He was the second son. He had never expected to be chief; he had never dreamed such a thing would be possible. As the members spoke, Tipaakke was amazed to find that most were in agreement with their chief. A final vote was taken, and he found himself chosen to be the next chief. Together, he and Mekollaan would lead their people.

  "Good." Kukuus smiled. "My heart sings with happiness. I am pleased that you all see both of my sons worthy of such an important position." He reached to take each son's hand and squeezed them tight. Then he joined the brothers' hands in his lap. "I promise you, my people, that my sons will do you great honor as your next chiefs."

  There was a great murmuring between the council members and then silence when Kukuus held up both hands.

  "What we must speak of next, pains my heart greatly." The chief clutched his hands to his heart. "I have lived on this land all my life. My grandfather lived here and his grandfather before him. But I fear it is time we go, my friends."

  Tipaakke turned to face his father. He couldn't believe the old man's words. Leave their home?

  Kukuus continued. "We live too close to the white man. He is destroying us. His ways are not ours. He kills us with his firesticks and his diseases. He murders our spirits with his fire-water and heathen ways. Once we numbered more than we could count, now we are but a handful. I think we should move to the evening sun. We should pack our belongings and take our children to the land where our Shawnee cousins live. There, we are welcome. There, there are no white men. What say you, my friends?" Kukuus looked up, waiting for his people's response.

  At first, no one said a word. Each man and woman had known deep in their hearts for a long time now that they could not stay here forever. Still, the thought of leaving was difficult. Here was their history. Here on this soil lay the bones of their ancestors. This was where life had begun for the Lenni Lenape people.

  Mekollaan came to his feet. "My father is right, members of the council. We must go, before we are driven." He stood tall and erect, already looking the part of the next chief. "And I think we should begin preparing now. I would like to be in our new home before the snow flys again.

  Tipaakke barely heard a word after that. Leave? The thought was frightening; but, deep in inside he knew the others were right. It was time they found a safer place to raise their children. But how could he leave? He had to find Katelyn! He couldn't go without her, not as long as there was a chance she might be alive. What if she returned to the village to find them gone? She could never find him on the Ohio river.

  After the council had adjourned, their decisions made, Tipaakke followed his father and brother back to their wigwam. His voice was angry and accusing. "Why didn't you tell me of this, Father?" He closed the door flap behind him.

  Kukuus took his time, seating himself on his worn leather mat. "I did not tell you because it was up to the council to decide."

  "You know I can't leave now. I must find Katelyn." He ran his hands through his dark hair, catching the fox tail that dangled to the side. He fingered the soft fur.

  "You do not want to be the chief of your people?" The old chief signaled to Mekollaan to light his pipe.

  "Yes, of course I do. It is a great honor. I would be proud to share this with my brother. But I must make peace with myself before I can take responsibility for my people. Why must we become the chiefs now? You are healthy, you could live many years yet."

  "You heard my reasons at the council, son. While I am still in this world I can advise you." He sucked on the long pipe between his teeth, exhaling a puff of sweet smelling smoke.

  Mekollaan leaned on the frame of the wigwam. "I knew Father was considering this, Fox. But the council's decisions were wise. As much as I hate to admit it, together we can guide our people better than I could alone. And it is true, we must move on before our people are destroyed." He stared at his brother with coal-black eyes. "I am sorry about your woman, but it would be better just to go now and forget her. You will be a great chief, you can have any maiden you desire."

  Tipaakke spoke through clenched teeth. "What I desire is to have her back with me. You said you would help me find her." He crossed the wigwam to stand before him. "Do you go back on your word?"

  "No. I do not. I said I would help you if you wish. I have already had contact with the half-Shawnee, half-white man, Red Coat. He thinks he has word on your Katelyn."

  "Tell me, what did he say? She's alive isn't she?" Tipaakke's heart pounded wildly. "Why didn't you say something before?"

  "You will not like what I have to say."

  "Enough games, Hawk. Tell me!"

  Mekollaan stroked his chin. "Red Coat tells me of a girl the white man say was captured almost a year ago. They say she is back with the white man that owned her. They say there will be a wedding in a few moons." He shrugged. "But these are tales carried by the wind. Who knows."

  Tipaakke's eyes dropped to the ground. He refused to believe Katelyn would betray him. "Maybe it is not my Katelyn."

  "Red Coat says she is a girl with hair of fire. Very beautiful for a white woman."

  Tipaakke crossed his arms over his chest. "She was taken against her will. I must go to her." He turned to his father who had listened silently to his sons. "I will return within two days. Then I will become chief. But first I must find her."

  The old man nodded, his long white braids swaying. "Do what you must, but take care. We cannot wait for you, my son."

  Starting for the door, Tipaakke faced Mekollaan again. "Are you with me, brother?"

  "I am with you."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Katelyn ran through the tall meadow grass, leaping into the air and landing in Tipaakke's arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. Laughing, he spun her around and she leaned back, letting the wind whip through her long hair. Dropping her to her feet, he led her through the field of wild flowers, stopping to watch her pick a handful. Together they made their way to the stream where they both flopped to the ground, beneath a grandfather willow.

  Giggling, Katelyn leaned to tuck flowers in the leather band Tipaakke wore around his head.

  "What, you want me to be more like Won?" He yanked the wild daisies from his hair and sent them sailing into the air.

  "Oh, no." She leaned back, letting her head rest in his lap. "I like you just the way you are." She traced intricate scroll patterns on his bare chest with a finger.

  "What a vixen you are," he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers. "You are insatiable."

  She snaked her arms around his neck, arching her back, her pink tongue darting out to taste his lips. "I only demand what is rightfully mine, my husband." She stroked his hard, lean chest as he untied the laces at her neckline.

  "Demanding, you are." He slid his warm hand beneath her doeskin dress. "It's a wonder I have time for my duties at all, you keep me on your mat so much."

  Katelyn breathed deeply, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her as he caressed one well-rounded breast. "This is your duty, she purred. Lacing one hand through his silky hair, she guided his head to hers, and their mouths met with great fury.

  Suddenly, Katelyn felt herself being pulled from Fox's arms. The air grew stagnant and the sun began to fad
e, a darkness overtaking them. Something unknown held her in its grasp and was dragging her away. "No, no!," she screamed in terror, throwing her arms out to Fox. "Help me," she begged. But he couldn't. He called out her name over and over again as the distance between them grew. Then, there was total darkness . . .

  Katelyn gasped for breath in the pitch blackness, tightening the horse blanket around her. Though her body was damp with perspiration, she shivered with cold. Shuddering, she wiped her face with her forearm. Her heart was pounding so hard, it echoed in her ears. Only a dream, she told herself, breathing deeply. It was only a dream . . .

  But it had seemed so real! Her fingers went to her lips. She could still taste Tipaakke's mouth on hers; her breasts still tingled from his touch. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She wanted him so badly! Why had all of these terrible things happened? All she wanted was to be safe in Tipaakke's arms. She wanted no part of this Tidewater life Henry was trying to force upon her.

  Katelyn spent the rest of the night huddled in the corner of the ice house, too frightened to go to sleep. If she did, those dreams would return, as they had every night since Henry had locked her up. Again and again she had dreamt of being with Tipaakke, at the village, in the mountains, at the stream. And the dreams always ended the same. She was always pulled from his arms by some unknown force, and she always woke in a cold sweat. It was easier to remain awake then to go through that over and over again.

  Sometime in the mid-morning, Katelyn heard the bolt on the ice house door. It had to be Henry. She had seen no one else since he'd locked her up. How many days had it been? She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the blaring sun. "Henry?"

  "Good morning, love." Henry leaned on the door and ran a hand through his thick flaxen hair. "Sleep well last night?"

  Katelyn rose slowly to her feet. "Just fine, thank you." She refused to let him get the best of her. He wanted her to cry, he wanted her to beg, but she wasn't going to do it. She would show no signs of weakness. Henry loved weakness in others.