by Karen Kay
Lying down, he opened his arms for her, and she went into them easily, as though they two were magnetically attracted.
What bliss, to be held so closely and securely by the one you loved. And so it was on this thought that she fell to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Marisa awoke screaming. “Sarah!”
Musket in hand, Black Eagle jumped to his knees. Looking back at her, he placed his fingers over her lips, effectively silencing her. He knelt at her side, noiselessly alert and listening. Several minutes turned into many more, and still he stayed in the same position, wary, awake, his weapons at his fingertips.
Indeed, such a long time elapsed while he remained in this position that by the time he turned back to her, Marisa was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. He sat back on his haunches, set his weapon at his side, and taking her up in his arms, he placed a kiss over her lips. Only then did he whisper, “I think we are safe, but enemy scouts may be about. It is a wise man who remains as silent as possible.”
She nodded. “I beg your pardon,” she muttered quietly. “I had a nightmare.”
“That is to be expected.”
She shivered, for simply speaking of it brought it back to mind. “It was terrible.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Oh, no. There is an old wives’ tale that is common amongst the Dutch, and Sarah related it to me, that a dream told before breakfast may come true.”
“Ah, then it is as well that you keep it to yourself for now. Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
“I will try, but now I am afraid I might cry out again.”
“It is a possibility.” His arms closed around her to hold her tightly, his chin coming down to rest on the top of her head. “I like the feel of you in my arms.”
“I, too, enjoy this. But I am afraid. All I can hear in my dreams is the crashing of the waterfall and the sound of the rapids. All I can see is Sarah, being swept away from me. All I can feel is the freezing water and the muted sounds of the waterfall above me.”
“I understand. Perhaps, then, it would be best to engage in something else besides sleep. Possibly now is the time to tell you the story I have in the past promised you. Know that waterfalls are not always so fearsome, or so fatal. Sometimes they bring about many good effects. This story is about another time, long ago, when a woman fell over the greatest waterfall in the land of the Iroquois and became the wife of He-noh.”
“He-noh?”
“He-noh, the Thunderer,” he murmured. “It is he who gives us rain and thunder. Though he is not the Creator, he is yet a giver of life, for without the rain, nothing on this earth could live.”
“By Creator, you do mean, of course, God, who lives in heaven?”
“I do. We call him Hawenia, the Creator of all life. But this is the story of another being, the Thunderer. It happened not far from here, in the land of the Seneca, in the village of Gaugwa. Close by to that village is the great waterfall, Neahga. Now it happened that there was a beautiful girl whose relatives were dead.”
“Like mine?”
He nodded. “Like yours. But instead of living with her uncle, she lived with her aunt. It was the only relative she had.”
“Like me.”
“Like you,” he said, his voice barely raised over a murmur. “Now the girl’s name was Ahweyoh.”
“But that is the name you call me.”
“So it is. There is much similarity between you and the Ahweyoh of long ago. Now, Ahweyoh was generous and compassionate to all, but her aunt was not kind to her. Some think the aunt was jealous of Ahweyoh’s beauty. Others believe the aunt hated her own brother, thus she took her grievances out on her brother’s daughter. Whatever the truth of this, the aunt made Ahweyoh wear the oldest clothing and forced her to do many chores that were unbecoming of her. Still, because Ahweyoh was beautiful and kindhearted, there were many who wished to marry her and would have done so, but for the aunt who forbade it.
“Now there was a terrible man, an old man who was fat and ugly, who was known to have beaten his wife to death. But he had acquired much of the white man’s wealth, and the aunt was desperate to have a part of those riches. So she arranged to have Ahweyoh marry this man.
“When Ahweyoh became aware of this, she was grief-stricken. She refused to marry the man, but the aunt insisted and was planning the ceremony to take place the next day.
“Ahweyoh could not bear the thought of life with this man, and when her pleading fell on deaf ears, Ahweyoh decided she would rather die than marry him. And so late that night she set out in a small canoe, steering her boat toward the rapids that would carry her to Neahga. Soon, the canoe was rushing through the swift waters, taking Ahweyoh to certain death.”
Marisa shivered, and Black Eagle wrapped his arms more tightly around her. In the same low voice, he continued, “Now, long ago it was well known that the Thunderer lived under the falls of Neahga. The people knew it was so, for they could hear his voice. On this night, the sky was clear, and so the Thunderer was at his home beneath the falls. He heard the cries of Ahweyoh. Looking up, he beheld her, seeing through the rags she wore to her beauty beneath—not only her physical beauty, but he saw into her heart. He fell instantly in love with her.”
Marisa smiled and snuggled deeper into Black Eagle’s embrace.
“The Thunderer saved Ahweyoh,” said Black Eagle, “by catching her in his arms as her canoe tipped over the falls. Although he was not quite human, he was a handsome man nonetheless, and Ahweyoh fell in love with him too. Soon, they married, but there was still trouble with her aunt, who plotted to steal her away and force her to marry another. And so to ensure the aunt was never again able to hurt Ahweyoh, the Thunderer abandoned his home under the falls to live in a safer place, a place in the west. Thus, when you see a storm fast moving, coming toward you, look at the direction that it approaches. It will usually come to you from the west.”
Marisa sighed and nuzzled closer to him. “And did they live happily, to the end of their days?”
“It is so. They had a son, Thunder Boy. Thunder Boy, because he is half human, often walks upon the earth. Sometimes it is said that Ahweyoh becomes lonely for earthly things, and so she joins her son in his walks. If you listen closely in the spring, you can hear the earth echo the call of the lightning. When you hear this, know all is well, for these are the voices of Ahweyoh and the Thunderer as they speak words of love to each other.”
A long silence followed the story, until at last Marisa said, “‘As they speak words of love to each other.’ That is a beautiful story. Tell me, Black Eagle, do you call me Ahweyoh because she, like I, had no one to care for her?”
“Nyoh, it is so, and also because, like the Thunderer, with one look I fell as enchanted with you. But there is another resemblance too. Like the Ahweyoh of the past, you chose to lavish your favors on someone who is very different from you.” He paused, and when he continued, there was a noticeable tremor in his voice. “I think that, even though we will not be together all our lives through, I will love you always, as the Thunderer loved Ahweyoh.”
Stunned, Marisa could barely speak. “Do you mean that?”
“I do.”
She went still, then sat up, pushing herself away from him. “Black Eagle, I’m so sorry that I…that you… Oh, how I wish our circumstances were different. For you hold my heart also, but…”
“Say that again.”
“What?”
He smiled. “I understand that you don’t wish to have a man in your life. You needn’t tell it to me again. I also understand that even though I love you, I would betray my people if we married. Yet, if I had labored under any doubt that my feelings for you are forever, the events of this day have washed them away.”
Marisa bit her lip. “I feel this way too, but—”
“Then we should marry—”
/> She gasped.
“But only for the time that we spend here. When we leave here our marriage will be dissolved, as it must be. In this way you will not betray yourself and I will not become a traitor to my people. Besides, marriages rarely last forever. We could meet our desire here, be man and wife. But only here and for this little while.”
“But if we go into our marriage knowing it will end soon, that’s not really a marriage, is it?”
“It will be what we make it. If we agree we are married, then we are. We would give ourselves to each other before our Creator, and have no secrets from Him. Is that not enough?”
She inhaled deeply. “Sir Eagle, you make a strong argument and plead your case well.”
“That is my hope.”
“But I have determined I will never marry and that nothing will change my mind. If I marry you here and especially if we ask our God to sanction it, haven’t I then betrayed myself?”
“Yes, perhaps,” he agreed. “But the decision to never marry was made in your old life. What has happened here today has changed that.”
“It has?”
“Nyoh. Like the Ahweyoh of legend, you determined to leave the one who provided your upbringing. And like the Ahweyoh of legend, the falls did not claim your life. You have a new life now, and in this new life, you are free to determine your own future. You are free now to have me in this time, and in this place only, if you wish it.”
Marisa paused while conflicting thoughts consumed her. Black Eagle’s logic was not without merit. Indeed, there was much truth to it.
Still, altering the decisions and habits of a lifetime was not a thing to be done so easily, and she could only sit silently with him for many moments. At last she was able to put words to her thoughts. “There is danger in this. You do know this?”
He nodded.
“We could come to love one another so greatly that it would break our hearts to part. And yet we would have to be true to our agreement and dissolve the marriage the instant we leave here. To not do so would make us both liars.”
Reaching out for her, he brought her into the circle of his arms, where he nestled her head against him. It was a sort of paradise, she thought as her flesh melted into his—the warmth of his body, the feel of his skin next to hers, the security of his arms holding her, was dizzying. If she could have, she would have kept the world away from them and stayed like this forever.
Brandishing a kiss atop her head, he said, “Nothing has to be decided now. But know this. Always in this life there is a parting of ways, even if that parting is a departure from life itself. I would rather have this time in my life than to never know it at all. These events have shown me that I am now bound to you. Let us live as we would like it to be. At least for a small twinkling in the realm of infinity.”
The passion, the ardor in his words, stirred her soul, and tears welled up behind her eyes. Indeed, it was all she could do to simply say, “I love you.” Even then, her voice shook.
“And I, you.” He sighed. “Do you think you might be able to sleep now?”
“I shall try.”
“Perhaps it would be better for you if your dress were loosened. Your manner of dress is constricting, I think.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Would you like me to help you loosen your clothing?”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes, that would be most agreeable and perhaps it might help me to sleep. But a woman’s dress is fairly complicated. I can undo the buttons on this stomacher—that is this piece of clothing that is stiff and unwieldy, here in front of my chest and abdomen—if you will push down the sleeves of the dress while I unbutton it.”
He nodded and did so, but his next words to her were ones of surprise. “There is yet more clothing beneath.”
“Yes, that is my chemise,” she explained as she pulled the bodice of her gown down from around her shoulders. “If I turn my back to you, do you think you might unfasten my stays? There is a lace that holds my corset in place. Do you see them?”
He nodded.
“If you will but loosen those, I can remove my corset, which will allow me a chance to catch my breath.”
His fingers were already at work over the lacings, and his gentle touch, there upon her back, was like magic. Every nerve in her body came alive.
When the corset fell apart and her breasts spilled out over the shape of it, she felt oddly liberated, as well as relieved. She inhaled deeply.
“Why do white women wear these things?”
“’Tis the style, and one must attain a small waistline somehow. The expense of beauty, I fear, is ofttimes one of discomfort.”
“Nyoh. Indeed, it seems to be so.”
He pulled the garment from her, and it was odd, for it was pitch-black within their lean-to. Yet she could feel his gaze upon her.
“How strange it is,” he whispered, “that we have been often in each other’s arms, yet I have never beheld you in the flesh. It is to be regretted that you are forced to wear so many clothes, for one such as you would be beautiful to go without any.”
“Without any clothes? Sir Eagle, what you suggest is scandalous.”
“It may be, but still there are not many who could retain their beauty without the adornment of clothing. You are such a one.”
She sighed. “How you flatter me. It is much too dark in our shelter to see me unclothed. But I admit, sir, that I like your praise very much all the same.”
“No flattery. I speak but the truth, for there is a trickle of light to reveal you. Besides, I can see well enough with my hands.”
With those hands, he roamed over her bosom and the curves of her stomach as though he would memorize every hill and valley of her form. Again she sighed. “Then come, Sir Eagle. If you wish to see me completely naked, help me to remove my skirts as well. There is still much work to do before I can safely say that you have seen me disrobed.”
She could almost feel Black Eagle’s delight. Though the darkness did not allow her to witness his smile, there was a note of humor in his voice as he said, “I would be most pleased.”
She sat before him in nothing but her chemise, her hose and her shoes, which to Marisa’s way of thinking was the same as being naked. This, to her frame of reference, was as far as her undressing went. However, it seemed that Black Eagle wished to remove even these last articles of clothing, and when he made a motion to take off her chemise as well, Marisa backed away from him.
“Sir, what is it you intend?”
“To see you unclad. Are we not removing all of your clothes?”
“But am I not already naked?”
He laughed, the sound soft and deeply masculine. When she didn’t join in with the joke, she could practically hear him frown. He said, “Naked? Do you jest? There is still this slip that hides you.”
“You wish me to remove my chemise as well?”
“Nyoh, yes.”
“But even a lady long married does not allow her husband such privileges.”
“Does she not? I thought I understood the Englishman, but this is a strange custom for a man long married to permit. Still I would like to take this underdress off you.” He was already pulling the chemise up over her head.
She sighed. But she assisted him nonetheless, holding her arms above her.
She’d thought he would simply slip the clothing off. However, he caught those arms as she held them up high, and with her hands trapped in her gown, he knelt in front of her, bringing his lips unerringly to her taut nipples.
At first touch, excitement filled her, and she felt naughty, sexy, desirable. She was utterly naked, as bare as she had been when she had come into this world, and as she knelt before him, her femininity found a safe harbor within his masculinity. It was an empowering experience, and she swayed against his sensual onslaught, a fire rousing to life wit
hin her.
Then he removed the chemise completely, and he laid her gently back against their cushion of padded pine boughs. Immediately, the fragrance, not only of fresh pine, but also of his earthy scent, assailed her senses. It occurred to her that she might always, from this moment forward, associate these smells with him.
He bent over her, coming down to rub his bare chest against hers. It was a heady experience, and she swayed against him, raising her hips to meet his.
He groaned. The sound was like music to her.
While one of his hands held him balanced over her, his other hand kneaded her breasts. He set one of his knees into position, there at the junction of her thighs, stabilizing him and allowing his kisses to range lower and lower over her abdomen. She cast her head back and raised her chest to him, letting the fire that this man kindled rage over her.
He answered her gift, sucking on her breasts, her stomach, down to her navel. When his lips wandered ever lower over her, she became slightly alarmed. His kisses were rambling in a direction wherein lay her most intimate secrets.
“Black Eagle,” she whispered, coming up onto her elbows. “What is it you intend on doing?”
It took him a moment to answer. “To love you.”
“Yes, I am most happy about that. But how do you intend on doing it?”
She sensed more than beheld his grin. “You will see. Lie back. You will enjoy it.”
“But—”
His growl interrupted her. It was deep, masculine and incredibly sensuous. And then he positioned himself over her, there at the apex of her legs. First his fingers found her most private spot, but then his lips followed where his fingers had been.
Dear Lord, she thought as she caught her breath. How was a person to bear such pleasure?
It was glorious. It was resplendent. As her soft, high-pitched moans caught on the air, it seemed to urge him on. All at once, his kisses exploded, his tongue, being the instrument, bringing her to a fine-tuned crescendo. She squirmed, she wiggled, her legs opening to him to give him full access.
It was magic, it was enchanted, being the recipient of his adoration. On and on it went, until at last the ecstasy was almost more than she could bear, and she found herself tripping over the edge in ultimate pleasure. She moaned, she sighed, and she strained against him as the tempest of release rocked her body. Over and over the intensity of it soared, and her body pitched with pure elation.