She watched him cut through the forest ahead of her. His bare back was lean and corded with muscle. With a backside like that, surely some member of his tribe must find him handsome, in a rugged sort of way. She wondered why he had no wife.
“Have you any children?” She began another round of questions.
“None that I know of.”
“I have heard that some Iroquois take multiple wives.”
“Some choose to.”
“Yet you don’t even have one.” When he made no comment, she pressed, “Why is that?”
After a noticeable silence, he gave a curt answer. “Adahya’s woman is gone.”
There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice. Katherine kept silent for a long while. Perhaps she should not have pried. Obviously his wife’s death must have affected him deeply. She could not help but hope someone would mourn her like that after she passed on.
Right now that prospect seemed very bleak.
* * *
THEY stopped at midday, and the Indian shot a rabbit for them to eat. Katherine built a fire and a spit of branches as Adahya dressed the rabbit with his knife. Wordlessly, he laid it by the fire, and then wiped his knife off in the grass. He slid the knife back in the sheath at his belt and stretched out on the grass beside her.
Katherine slid the rabbit onto the spit and tended it as it fried and spat against the flames. The Indian’s eyes were closed, and she studied him. Vertical lines and intricate triangular patterns were tattooed down both arms from his elbows to wrists. Katherine had seen similar designs on Oneida pottery.
This Indian’s wife had probably resembled Oneida women. She had probably died young. Katherine could not help but wonder if she had been more personable than this man.
She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she did not notice that the Indian had opened his eyes and was now watching her stare at him. “Do you like looking at me?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I--I wasn’t looking at you in particular. D-did you do that yourself?” She motioned to his arms.
“Yes.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yes.” He sat up and inspected the sizzling rabbit.
“How long were you and your wife together?” she asked without thought. He would yell at her now or--at the very least--insult her.
“One winter,” he answered to her surprise. He turned the rabbit over and over on the spit, studying it intently as if he were suddenly lost in his own memories. “Song was a beautiful woman.”
Katherine studied the anguish contained in his dark eyes, and for a brief instant, she felt a hint of jealousy for his dead wife. Not for her having been married to this man, but because she had received the love that Katherine had always longed for. The Indian spoke his wife’s name as if it were something precious and sacred. No one had ever held Katherine in such high esteem. She had hoped Joshua would.
A sudden, terrifying loneliness gripped her to the point of strangulation. She turned her back to the Indian, hugged her knees to her chest, and fought back tears.
CHAPTER FOUR
ADAHYA did not understand the change in the woman. Gone was the meddlesome busybody he had brought on this journey. In her place was an irritated, foul-tempered stranger. She now walked so fast he could barely keep up with her.
Her mood had changed after he had told her about Song, and he did not understand why. It felt strange speaking of his former wife. He had not spoken of Song since the night she had left.
Countless times since he had played over his actions with her, always questioning himself, wondering what he could have done differently to make her stay. He had gone on many hunting drives. Perhaps he had stayed away too long. Or maybe he had not pleased her at night. Song had practically refused to let him touch her those final weeks they were together. When he would stroke her hair or try to pull her into his arms she had pushed him away and went to her sister’s hearth to sleep. Song had been unhappy during their entire three months together, he was sure of it. If only he had read the signs. The entire village had. They knew she was seeing another man--a white man, at that! And they had tried to tell him, but he would not listen. He had always believed the best in Song. She had not even told him goodbye.
He watched the white woman ahead of him. Her braid had come untied, and her hair hung loose and free down her back. Her hair was handsome, he had to admit.
For a brief instant, he pictured her lying bare breasted before his lodge fire, her hair crowning her nakedness like a cape. He had not been with anyone since Song, and he knew it was only loneliness that made him think of this white woman. Still, he wondered how it would be to lie with this woman called Katherine St. James, to have her hands spread over his back as he rode inside her.
She was not going to speak to him at all today, it seemed, and for some unbeknownst reason, his mood turned somber. He had grown used to her incessant chattering. Now her silence disturbed him.
They walked in silence until nightfall. The woman built a fire, and they ate jerky without speaking to one another. When it was dark and each had stretched out on opposite sides of the fire, she slowly began to transform back to the talkative woman he had first known.
“Did you know from the moment you first met Song that you loved her?” she asked, looking up at the constellations.
For a woman to question him about love was something he had never experienced, but surprisingly, he realized that he was not offended.
“I must have.” He answered after a long moment. “My mother said we would be a good match. That is why she chose her for me.”
“Your marriage was arranged?”
“It is custom.”
She sat up and stared at him. The firelight cast eerie shadows across her pale skin. “So you didn’t love her?”
Adahya pondered her question. Strangely, he did not find her questions as annoying now. “Perhaps not, but I noticed her. Everyone noticed her. My mother is the clan matriarch, so I was very lucky.” Or at least he had thought he was at the time. Song was not a woman he would have willingly sought out. She could have had her pick of any man in the village, and she knew it. He had not felt worthy to possess someone of such beauty, and Song had often reminded him of that fact.
Katherine lay down and rolled on her side away from him, using her valise as a pillow.
He watched her until her breathing steadied and he knew she had fallen asleep.
* * *
KATHERINE’S mood the next morning was both troubled and somber.
Adahya said his wife’s physical appearance had first attracted him to her. Regardless that his marriage had been arranged, he had been first physically attracted to his wife. Perhaps that was why Joshua had rejected her. Perhaps he found her unattractive. Katherine’s heart sank. She knew she was not beautiful, but there were certainly less attractive women with men who loved them. Joshua had once given a sermon on the vainness of beauty and its sinfulness in God’s eyes. If Joshua’s lack of feeling for her hinged solely on her appearance, then he was vain, too. And that made him no better than the sinners he tried to save every Sunday.
She watched the Indian walking in front of her. To her disappointment, he wore his jacket again. She had seen Joshua without a shirt once. His back was pale by comparison to this Indian’s. She wondered again what Adahya’s wife had been like, what life must be like knowing your mother would one day choose a mate for you. Mama would have never chose Joshua for her. He was not her type, she had complained when Katherine had confessed her love for Joshua. Joshua was a devoted preacher, she explained, but he was much too weak for Katherine’s spirit. Katherine still did not understand what she had meant.
“Do you find me plain?” she blurted when she had caught up to the Adahya’s pace.
“What is plain?”
Plain. How could she explain it?
“Are you asking if I think you are ugly?” He was looking at her now, his expression a combination of confusion and intrigue.
�
��Well, I wanted to--”
“Your skin is too light,” he broke in. “And your eyes should be darker. Your hips are too narrow.”
“I can’t help that!”
He stopped walking, and his eyes trailed the length of her. “You will have difficulty bearing children.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. She had asked a simple question, not requested his personal analysis. She continued walking, leaving him there to watch her.
“And you are too tall.”
“Is there anything about me that you find acceptable?” She whirled, near tears.
The Indian stepped toward her, and before she could move away, he had a handful of her hair. His touch was soft, as he slid the locks through his fingers.
“This would bring much reward to me at Fort Niagara.” He spoke just above a whisper.
Heat coiled in the pit of her stomach. There was something intimate in the way he looked at her. Katherine had every right to fear him, and she should fear him. The selling of Colonial scalps to the British was a common motivation in keeping the Indians hostile. This man holding her hair was a Mohawk Indian, and he could be dangerous if provoked. But his voice was not threatening. Nor were the pair of large, black eyes boring into her.
She backed away, momentarily shaken. She eyed the tomahawk at his belt and took another step back. One blow to her forehead, and she would be left in the middle of nowhere to bleed to death on the forest floor.
Adahya followed her gaze to his weapon. After a moment, his eyes met hers. “You asked if I thought you plain. Adahya does not see you as plain.” With a snort that suggested frustration, he started walking again.
Katherine remained silent. She did not know if he was complimenting her or being sarcastic. She concentrated on the forest floor, the patches of fiddlehead ferns, trilliums, princess pine. After a long while, her thoughts turned to Joshua and her continuous torture of why he had rejected her.
Physical attraction was the key ingredient to winning a man’s love. Katherine knew some of what was entailed in the act of sex. Mama had told her it was something beautiful and special which two people shared who loved and were committed to one another. What a woman was actually required to do was a mystery to her, but surely if a man was not interested in doing it with a woman it was because she was unattractive. And if she was unattractive, she had no hope in winning Joshua’s love.
She knew she should leave well enough alone, but her curiosity was growing at an uncontrollable pace. She should keep quiet, but Indian or not, he was still human--and a man.
She had to know.
“Adahya?” She had forgotten the exact way he had pronounced his name.
“Hmm?”
“Do you--I mean, could you--Am I--”
“What?”
“Am I attractive to you?”
Adahya stopped so abruptly, she nearly crashed into his back. “What did you say?”
“Physical attraction,” she repeated. “I asked you if you thought you could ever be…um, attracted to me. That way.”
With a shocked look in his dark eyes, he closed the distance between them in one stride. “Are you a virgin?”
Katherine felt her cheeks turn blood red. Her stupid, big mouth! She tried to retreat, but found herself backed against a thick tree.
Standing in front of her, he placed a hand on each side of the tree, easily trapping her between his arms. His eyes bored into her like a wolf eyeing its prey.
She swallowed. “Please remove your arms and let me pass.”
“Answer my question.”
“No.”
“Is Knox your lover?”
She had only wanted another man’s opinion of her so that she could understand the reasons behind Joshua’s rejection. Now this Indian would rape her, scalp her, and sell her hair to the British at Fort Niagara. Panic rose as his eyes fell on her heaving breasts. She was miles from another living soul. She would die out here, and no one would ever find her body.
The Indian slowly ran a hand down the side of her face. “What do you do with Knox?”
“N-nothing.”
“Tell me.” His fingers traced the curve of her jaw. “Do not lie. I will know.”
“I--”
“Tell me.”
“I’ve kissed him.”
The Indian lowered one arm. “Kissed him?”
Katherine found her opportunity to escape and ducked from his trap. She distanced herself yards from him.
“What does kissed him mean?”
Katherine stared at him, momentarily shaken. He could not be serious.
But he looked serious.
“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”
He looked confused.
Panic turned to incredulousness and exploded into laughter. Seeing his scowl, she covered her mouth. “Kissing is what people do to show that they care for one another.”
He seemed genuinely puzzled.
“What do Mohawks do to show their affection?” She should not have asked, but it was too late now.
Before she could run, the Indian closed the distance between them. His arms came around her waist, trapping her to him. With one hand gently pushing the back of her head toward him, he pressed his cheek against her own.
The gesture was so innocent, so chaste, it caught her off guard. His breath was in her hair; warm and soft behind her ear and sending electric currents down her hairline. Her heart picked up speed. She had never experienced something so gentle, so intimate. When he released her, she was visibly shaking.
“Is that like your kissing?” He seemed to enjoy the effect he had on her.
“Not exactly.”
“What then?” He looked at her, curiosity flashing in his eyes once again.
“It’s like that somewhat, but it’s different.”
“Show me.”
“I can’t show you!”
“Why not?”
“Because…well, just because.” With heat rising up both cheeks, she stared wide-eyed at the man before her.
His arms were folded across his chest, and he had that look of intrigue once again. He was a man used to telling others what to do, getting what he wanted from them. He was not going to let up until she showed him.
He took a step toward her. “I think this kissing is something you are ashamed of, Chogan.”
“Certainly not!” She backed up. She had done nothing with Joshua to be ashamed of, and she resented his accusation.
“Then show me.”
Meeting his gaze, she accepted his dare only to end this ridiculous game. Closing the distance between them, she tilted her head and quickly, chastely kissed him on the cheek. She immediately stepped back.
He looked confused.
“That’s kissing.”
“My version was better.” He frowned.
“Well, it usually takes longer.”
She picked up her valise and began walking, but he blocked her path. “Why does it take longer?” he asked.
“Well, because you’re supposed to do it on the mouth, silly.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“SHOW me,” Adahya said.
Her big mouth! Her stupid, big, fat, never-ending mouth!
Katherine shifted uncontrollably. She looked into his dark eyes. His expression was stoic, unreadable. He wasn’t going to let her off easy now. There was only one way to get out of this mess, and it was to just get it over with as quickly as possible.
She set her valise back down and wiped her palms onto the front of her skirts.
It made no sense. In fact, it was probably the craziest thing she had ever done. Perhaps it was the lingering hurt of Joshua’s rejection or the isolation of being in the forest in the middle of God only knew where. Whatever the reason, she stepped toward him and cautiously placed her palms against the blue lapels of his jacket. The large brass buttons were warm against her shaking hands.
“You have to put your hands here.” She directed them to the small of her back.
He pl
aced his hands on her hips.
The rugged scent of man filled her nostrils. He smelled a mixture of pine and earth, as if he were a very part of the forest surrounding them. She felt dizzy.
He was looking at her intently, and she suddenly realized they were the same height. Joshua had towered over her when he stood near her.
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