"Oh, Katie-girl, I thank Manito each day for you." He planted soft, fleeting kisses here and there on her face.
"I guess we really were meant to be together after all we've been through." She ran her hands over his bare back, noting the healing scars. She would not ask him about them now, but some night, as they lay telling stories before the firelight, she would have him tell her all that had happened after they separated in the woods that day.
"I told you, my heart;" her voice joined with his and in unison they spoke, laughing, "It was in the stars."
Just then, they heard the shout of a man on board the boat. "Cast off your lines," he ordered, "and tend your sheets!"
The merchant yawl gave a groan, and Katelyn and Fox felt it pull from the dock. Men shuffled back and forth on the deck as the mid-sized vessel began to rock and they eased away from land.
"How do we know where they're taking us?" Katelyn's eyes grew wide with concern and she sat up.
"We don't, but later we will sneak out of here and see what direction the wind takes us. Don't worry love, I could find my way home from anywhere on the great bay's shore."
"We can't go too far, Won says the baby will come any day." The boat rocked beneath them, making her uneasy.
"You worry too much, squaw," Tipaakke teased, hushing her protests with kisses. "Let me show you how to forget your silly worries."
"Show me," she answered, snaking her arms around his neck. "And let me show you how I love you."
Tipaakke laughed huskily as his mouth twisted hungrily against hers, pressing her to the deck. "So long I have dreamed of this . . . " he uttered against her flushed cheek. "I thought I would never feel you beneath me again."
She laughed, her voice throaty with desire. "Don't think I will be beneath you with this." She ran a hand over her protruding stomach, rolling onto her side. "But we're not going to let that stop us, are we?" She caressed his shoulders, playing lightly on his hard chest as she thrust her knee between his legs, bringing it up hard against his stiffening loins.
Tipaakke twisted his fingers in her hair, bruising her lips with his as she moved her knee against him, shooting hot flames of wanting through his starved body. "Ah, Katie-girl," he rasped as her head dropped to taunt one hard male nipple, "you are a vixen."
Katelyn ran her hands over his sleek, taunt muscles with a frenzied awakening. It had been so long since she had felt him within her! But first, she wanted to touch him, to feel his naked flesh against hers. She wanted to mold her body upon his until they melted into one.
Moving her knee rhythmically, she reached down to tug at the strings of Tipaakke's loincloth and he groaned, lifting his hips as her finger traced an intricate pattern over the soft leather. She taunted him with her fingers until he rolled his head to and fro, calling out to her in his ancient tongue.
Moans of pleasure filled Katelyn's ears, bringing a moistness between her thighs as she slowly removed the loincloth and lowered her head to the patch of crisp, dark hair that lay between his legs. Inhaling his haunting male scent, she pressed hot, wet kisses against his damp flesh, licking, taunting, nibbling until his breath came in short gasps and his hips rose and fell in a familiar dance of love.
"Come here, my heart," he groaned, holding out his arms, "or there will be nothing left of me for you."
She came to him, a hint of a smile on her face, and settled in the crook of his arm. She wrapped a hand around his flat stomach, holding her breath as his hand settled over one aching breast. She sighed, her eyelids drifting shut in anticipation as he caught one pink nipple between his finger and thumb and rolled it, coaxing it to a pert peak.
"Ia- taakke, shiite-ia-min," he whispered huskily. "You are so beautiful, so hot beneath my touch." He lowered his head to touch a her hard, puckered nipple with the tip of his tongue, and all conscious thought slipped from her mind.
"Fox," she breathed, tangling her fingers in his ebony hair, guiding his mouth closer. "I've missed you so . . . " Her breath came faster and she arched her back, moving her thighs against his leg as he slipped it between hers. Tangled together, they writhed in pleasure, giving and taking until their movements grew frenzied with excitement.
Forcing his mouth hard on hers, Tipaakke slipped a hand to the core of her womanhood and she moved against him in encouragement. His tongue explored the hot, wet cavern of her mouth as his fingers parted her soft petals and stroked her steamy flesh until she whimpered with pleasure.
"Please, Tipaakke," she murmured against his ear. "You torture me, my love."
"Torture is pain, my heart," he answered dropping kisses on her round belly. "I do not give you pain, do I?" He brushed his fingers over her thighs, letting her catch her breath.
She laughed, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. "I don't know, I don't know anything anymore . . . " Her body jerked at the first touch of his mouth on the soft triangle of curls, but then she relaxed, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her as his darting tongue drove her higher and higher on each crest. "Fox, please." She tugged at his arms. "I need you." She could barely breath; her heart was pounding, her entire body aching with want.
"We have all night, my heart, let me love you," he whispered through the darkness, his voice hushed and caressing.
So Katelyn lay back, resting on the deck in their little alcove, and let him tease her higher and higher until her whole body throbbed with pleasure. Then with one great burst of firelight, she came floating back to earth, all thoughts, all feelings shattered into a million spiraling pieces.
When Katelyn finally lifted her heavy lashes, she found Tipaakke leaning over her, his hand playing lightly on her breast. "Have I killed you?" he teased.
She stared at him through the darkness, unable to resist his smile. "No, you didn't kill me, though you almost did." She lifted her chin to accept his lips. They tasted of both of them, of two loves that mingled together. "But you should have told me to keep quiet. It's a wonder one of those sailors hasn't stuck his head under here to see what all of the commotion was about."
Tipaakke brushed her crimson cheeks with his fingertips. "Sounded like nothing but a kitten's mewing, my heart."
Katelyn rested her head on his chest, running her hand over his hard thighs. "I think you lie. I'm just glad the waves and the sails make so much noise."
For a few moments they lay in silence, listening to the sound of the waves beat and swoosh against the hull and to the sound of their own breathing.
Boldly, Katelyn reached down to caress Tipaakke's manhood, a twinkle in her eyes.
"I thought we were going to sleep now?" His eyes drifted shut and his tongue darted out to dampen his lips.
"Oh, we will," she cooed, leaning to take his hardening nipple in her mouth. "Soon."
Taunting and teasing, until Tipaakke's breath came fast again, Katelyn led him down the path of pleasure. Using his methods, and some of her own, she drove him to near madness before she finally crawled astride him. Accepting the full evidence of his love deep within her, Katelyn laced his fingers in her own, and began to move against him, sending hot sparks of fulfillment through her own trembling body.
Moving faster, she flattened against him as best she could, burying her face in his dark hair as she cried out his name. Guiding her movement with his hands on her hips, the two moved in perfect harmony, giving and taking until they drove madly towards their destiny.
Half sobbing, Katelyn sat up, moving with a final thrust as he spilled into her sending her to another shattering climax. Exhausted and panting, she collapsed on top of him, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Tipaakke lay quietly, his arms encircling Katelyn's waist. Once her breathing became regular again, she lifted her head off his shoulder, and smiled down at him, moving off him to rest at his side. Both were still in awe of the joyous, throbbing pleasure that had coursed through their veins.
"Will it always be like this?" Katelyn whispered in the darkness, her voice lilted with sleepy satisfaction.
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p; "Always," Tipaakke replied, brushing back dark-red strands of hair that stuck to her damp cheek. "We will never tire of each other. Each time we lay on the mat it will be new and beautiful." He propped himself up on an elbow to peer down at her. "You take my breath away . . . you rob my soul." He planted a whisper of a kiss on her love-bruised lips. "You have cast a magical spell over me, Wolf-woman; I am drugged by your love potion." He spoke in English to be sure she understood every word.
Katelyn smoothed his lips with her fingertips. "I love you," she told him, placing a hand over his heart. "I have always been yours, and always will be."
With those final words, she snuggled against Tipaakke's side and drifted off into a luxuriously peaceful sleep, the merchant ship rocking her, lulling her, like a babe in its cradle. She was safe in her lover's arms, safe at last.
With the coming of morning, Katelyn woke slowly, happy to drift in the memories of the previous night. Stretching like a wild cat, she eased her eyes open to find Tipaakke sitting at her feet.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Sunlight burst beneath the tarp through cracks in the canvas casting a heavenly light on Tipaakke's bronze skin. His hair framed his face with a sleek, black halo, emphasizing his chiseled face. He was the most beautifully masculine man Katelyn thought she'd ever seen in her life. And he's all mine, a voice whispered deep within her.
"You needed to sleep. I know it's been a long time since you slept well." He laughed. "It's been a long time since I've slept so well." He got to his knees, his head brushing the tarp as he dug in her skin bag.
"Do you know where we are, Fox?" She really didn't want to ask, but she had to.
He nodded, handing her the water skin. "The great Manito's hand guides this boat. He has brought us a little closer to our village."
"How do you know?" Katelyn handed the skin back, wiping a dribble of water from her chin with the back of her hand.
"I was out on the deck just before the dawn's light. The shore is to our left, the sun rises at my right, we move north along the shore. The boat must be carrying this cloth to another port further up river." He pulled a handful of squashed berries from the bag, offering them to her. "When we reach shore, we will eat a better meal."
She took the berries without fuss; she didn't care what kind of shape they were in, she was starved. She was always starved! "They're carrying cloth? She looked at the wooden crate to her side. "You opened one of their boxes?"
"Looking for food." He handed her a dry corncake. "How far do you think you can swim?"
"What?" Her eyes grew round as she reached for the water skin. "I'd probably sink like a stone in this condition." She motioned to her bare, round belly.
"I figure we are too far from shore." He took a sip of water from the skin and tucked it back in the bag. "We will make them take us closer. Here are your clothes." He tossed her the leather jerkin and woman's breechcloth that had been in the bag.
"We'll what?" She pulled her jerkin over her head, slapping his hand away playfully, when he reached to stroke her bare breast.
"We will ask the sailors to take us ashore." He pulled Won's long gleaming knife from the bag. "I think they will do it."
Katelyn shook her head, kneeling to tie the soft doeskin breechcloth around middle. "I thought we were done with the adventures." She rolled her eyes.
"How did you think we were going to get off of here?" Tipaakke swung the bag over his shoulder, preparing to crawl out.
"I was kind of hoping they'd just pull into port and we'd get off." She gave him a silly little grin.
Laughing and shaking his head, he leaned to kiss her softly on the lips. "Come out when I call you." He slipped her his knife. "Try to act like a crazed Indian, it scares white men."
Letting out a sigh, Katelyn watched Tipaakke crawl down the narrow passageway between the crates and disappear into the sunlight.
When Tipaakke reached the sunlight, he crouched waiting for the proper moment. He had counted four men on board, with a possibility of a fifth. Odds were, one would pass by, and when he did, Fox would pounce. Sure enough, only a few moments later, a pair of skinny legs in cut-off breeches passed by.
"Holy Saints alive," Christopher Burtles breathed aloud as the savage wrapped his hands around Chris' neck and pressed the knife's blade to his jugular.
Tipaakke gave him the evil-snake eye, as Mekollaan called it, enjoying himself immensely. "Get captain," he ordered in his best savage voice.
"Marty! Marty, old boy, you best be gettin' yourself on deck!" the boy shouted, quivering in his ill-fitting boots.
A moment later a round, middle-aged man with a bald head appeared from the hold. He never even flinched at the sight of the loinclothed Delaware brave standing on his deck. "Need something, Chris?" He eased his hand to the left, hoping to make contact with the pistol on his belt.
"Do not touch the gun, or your man will die," Tipaakke ordered as three other men clambered from below. "I will hurt no one if you do as Tipaakke Oopus says." He narrowed his eyes. "Do you understand?"
Marty looked the Indian brave square in the face. He wasn't like most of the men in these parts, he had kind of an admiration for these red men. The brave was calm and collected. As long as he did as he was told, he surmised there would be no trouble. "Stand to come by port," he shouted to the men behind him. Watching them scramble, he chuckled. "Watch your heads lads, least your wives become widows. Handsomely," he bellowed to his helmsman. "Tend your boom-vangs." As the yawl came about, the Captain shouted one last command. "Steady her broad to starboard!" Then he moved lazily to lean one arm on a covered crate, looking back at the brave. "So tell me, how'd you get on here anyway?"
"Walked." Tipaakke gave him a crazy grin. He and Mekollaan had always enjoyed toying with the white men, playing the role of the savage could be so humorous. They had a great time acting the way the white men thought they should, but teasing with their minds at the same time. It had been a game since boyhood.
"Got on at Annapolis, did you?" Marty stroked his red beard. "You wouldn't possibly be the Indian they were supposed to be hanging this morning?"
"I did not kill the dark boy." Tipaakke replied, loosening his grip on the young mate's neck. There was going to be no trouble, he could tell by the look on the captain's face.
"No." Marty shook his head. "Don't believe you did. Whole story sounded pretty damned strange to me." He turned to eye the nearing shore. "Can't take you much further or we'll hit bottom. Tides low though, you won't have to swim far."
Tipaakke nodded. "Thank you." Then he called in Algonquian, beckoning Katelyn.
When Katelyn appeared from beneath the cover tarp, dressed in a man's leather shirt with her stomach protruding, Marty blinked and then smiled. "Heard about her. If she was mine I'd be taking her back, too."
Katelyn walked slowly to stand beside Fox, her own knife clutched in her hand. All looked as if it were going well. Tipaakke seemed relaxed and the boat was heading toward shore.
A few moments passed and then the Captain spoke again. "Bring her into the wind, mates," he shouted. He turned back to Tipaakke. "You can let the lad go, you see we'll not harm you. This is close as I can bring you without riskin' my cargo."
Tipaakke loosened his hold on the boy's neck, releasing him. "Come," he told Katelyn in Algonquian, ushering her to the port side.
The Captain followed them, keeping a safe distance, "Good luck to you." He offered his hand. "If anyone asks in Annapolis, the boys and I saw nothing, heard nothing."
Tipaakke let go of Katelyn and grasped the Captain's hand. "Thank you. I have nothing with me to give to you in token of my gratitude, only words."
Marty tightened his hold on the red man's hand. "Thanks is enough. Good luck to you."
Taking Katelyn's hand, he turned to face the water. "It's not too deep," he told her just as they went over the side. "Just hang onto my hand."
Leaping away from the side of the boat, Katelyn surfaced, her fingers still laced in Tipaakke's. Floating on thei
r backs, they turned to wave to the boat and then started for shore at an easy pace.
Early in the evening, Katelyn and Tipaakke wandered into the Lenni Lenape village, hand in hand. As they entered the compound friends and relatives swarmed around them, laughing and teasing, overjoyed to have their chiefs-to-be among them again.
As Katelyn was ushered to a fireside to eat and drink with the women, she couldn't help but remember how different this reception was from a year ago. Dogs still ran and barked, naked children still raced in circles around the wigwams, and the bare-breasted Lenni Lenape women still reached out to stroke her hair, even her round stomach. But it all seemed different now. Black eyes were more familiar than her own; their language more soothing to her ears.
Sitting cross-legged in front of a wigwam, Katelyn ate from a clam shell, talking with Won and the other women. Everyone was so kind to her; by becoming Tipaakke's chosen mate, she was instantly adopted into the tribe. Waving to Tipaakke as he made his way through the men to his father's wigwam, she flashed him a smile. "I'm all right," she mouthed, and threw him a kiss.
Late into the evening Tipaakke remained in his father's wigwam, in council with Mekollaan and the elders. By the time Fox's head appeared from beneath the leather doorflap, Katelyn was ready to go home. Home to their wigwam, to lie on the sleeping platform in her love's arms.
"You look sleepy," Tipaakke told her, accepting a slice of fried fish from one of the squaws. He squatted beside Katelyn, his knee brushing against her leg. "So how long do you think, Won?" He pointed to Katelyn's stomach.
Won nodded her head. "Soon, very soon, I say. So-Falls-The-Water says the baby will come in a day or two." She moved around the small cooking fire, picking up dirty utensils.
Katelyn tried to get to her feet, moving awkwardly. "I'll sure be glad when I'm carrying this baby in my arms and not around my middle."
Tipaakke jumped up to take her hand and help her to her feet. "Come, love," he crooned in Algonquian. "Let us find our sleeping mats."
Thanking the woman for the hospitality, and giving Won a quick kiss on the cheek, Katelyn started across the compound leaning heavily against Tipaakke. "It's so beautiful here," she murmured, glancing at the neat circle of wigwams. "I know it is hard for you to leave." She stared into his dark eyes, mesmerized by their kindness. It was hard to believe that she had once been so afraid of him.
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