Blue Thunder

by Spangaloo Publishing

  Curiosity replaced her fear for the moment and she asked, “What are these dwellings?”

  As they sat in the shadow on Night Rider, he whispered in her ear, “They are called wickiups, more suitable than tepees and expendable when tribe must move in hurry. White dogs kill my people without warning. They rape, mutilate woman and children; they are cowards. Attack when men on hunt. They murder weak, young, and old.”

  She heard the hatred and bitterness in his deep voice; it sent chills through her body. She also wondered why he lied to her about white people. The stories she had read told of Indians raiding farms and towns, scalping innocent people. Did he think telling her this would excuse his abduction of her? Her sitting beside him was proof enough that the redskins were the savages and not God-fearing white men. Were these people capable of love? The brave behind her was capable of lust and tenderness. Melissa opened her mouth to contradict his statement. Weren’t he

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  and his braves the ones who had attacked the train without warning? She snapped it closed. What was the use? Bitter words wouldn’t get her out of this predicament.

  He continued to speak softly into her hair. “My people will not be pleased to see me bring white woman into camp.”

  She bristled at his remark. “So why don’t you take me back?”

  “No!” he stiffened, “I keep forever! This Apache never go back on word! No more talk.”

  He kicked his pinto into a fast trot.

  The acid scent of wood smoke blended with the savory aroma of simmering beans, corn, and a foreign meat was in the air as they neared the camp. At first their faces showed shocked to see the brave, and she assumed they believed him dead. Then they cheered, happy he had returned. Without warning, the welcoming committee turned hostile and picked up sticks and waved angry fists in the air at her. Dogs barked at the horse’s heels.

  People seemed to be everywhere, stopping what they were doing to stare at her in an undisguised fascination. Children cavorted around her, their large dark eyes unafraid but curious.

  Melissa was frightened. The angry onlookers’ hisses made her belly tighten and she leaned back against Blue Thunder’s chest, wishing she could disappear.

  “You must be brave and show no fear,” he whispered into her ear.

  Was he joking? If she could have laughed at that stupid remark, she would have.

  The woman and children spat at her and hit her arms and legs with sticks. Some reached up and pinched her upper thigh. She kicked back but did not cry out; she would not cower in front of these savages. Blue Thunder’s words of bravery were unnecessary; her fear was replaced with pure anger. Finally, he stopped in front of a dwelling, dismounted and dragged her off Night Rider. A wolf-like dog sniffed at her heels, growled at her alien scent, but Blue Thunder shooed it away. He shoved her not too gently inside. No sooner had she entered the dimly lit dwelling than she turned on him and fumed as she tried to think of words that would tell him what she thought of him. How could he let her be humiliated like that and not stop them? Before she could spit words out, he held up his hand.

  “I cannot show favor to prisoner or lose face among my people. You were treated better than other captives because I am son of leader. My people not question my actions. Other white

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  prisoners are tied behind horse, and then beaten severely; you will survive a few scratches and bruises. I received nothing less from your people. Ribs still sore where white man kicked with boot.”

  Melissa was furious at what he thought was kindness. She folded her shaking arms across her chest to keep from trembling so much. Save face? Damn his handsome face! She knew she was pouting, behaving infantile, but crap, she’d had enough of this... “Ohh! Why don’t you treat me like the other captives?” she spat. “Why are you tender one minute and savage the next?” She threatened her bottom lip with her teeth. “You think you could beat me, and then make tender love to me and I would be silent? Well… you’re wrong! All you think about is that stupid pride of yours.” Pent-up tears fell like a torrent of rain and she turned her back to him.

  “Honey Eyes, this Apache know you are exhausted, scared, and miserable from being taken from family. My heart ached with every attack on tender body. If possible to have taken blows for you, I would have.”

  “Why, Blue Thunder?” she whispered more to herself, then to him. He said something and Melissa heard his soft spoken words, spoken in his Apache tongue. “Speak to me in English, please.” She turned, he was gone and she let out a heart-wrenching sigh. “Great, now I’m talking to myself!”

  Even though at that minute she hated him, her heart ached for him to hold her. The sudden emptiness engulfed her whole being like never before. She looked about at her strange

  surroundings; a fire pit was cold. Gazing up she saw a smoke hole for the chimney, letting in the only light. Her mood was as dark and gloomy as the dwelling. Collapsing on a fur blanket, she cried for herself and her sister. Was Daphne all right? Would he really keep her for his slave? Her mind clouded with so many questions, she soon fell into an exhausted slumber.

  It amazed Blue Thunder how soft he had become when it came to her; his love did strange things to his mind. On the trail he half wanted her again but they had to reach the village before dark; he had wasted enough time by not pushing his mount. She had complained only once over her discomfort but he suspected she was really annoyed by the burning of her filthy dress. She was braver than he first gave her credit for. Yes, he admitted to himself, he had lost his

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  heart to the girl with hair the color of new corn and eyes like honeycomb. He left shaking his head at this complicated woman who had captured his heart. He wondered how he would explain to his father that he could never marry another.

  He knew Dasodaha would object to his captive, but she could bear him many healthy sons. He would talk to the counsel; there had been cases when Indian laws had been put aside. Could his father see past her skin color and know that his son’s heart has great love for this woman? Only Dasodaha could plead for him before the counsel.

  Once again, Blue Thunder prayed to the gods especially for his father’s forgiveness for attacking the wagon train. He had not considered the repercussions of his foolish act but he was so enraged, and let his anger rules his senses. The only good thing that came out of his attack was the white woman. He had lost three good braves and for that he would never forgive himself.

  Eskaminzim had been a childhood friend. His name had meant Big Mouth, and the Apache indeed had one and used it to tease him relentlessly. Now he had to admire her bravery and he was happy that it was too dim inside for her to see the affection in his expression. He had to remember in the future that he was an Apache, not a weak white man, no matter what his feelings for her. But now he must seek out his father and brother. The white woman would soon realize her love for him; time would heal her physical and mental wounds. Her words had cut deep but he was grateful she held them until they were alone.

  Blue Thunder spotted his aunt, Laughing Tree, sitting by her dwelling. She looked up and smiled; a smile that warmed his heart. It was genuine and made her eyes crinkle with love for him and then she entered the wickiup knowing their talk should be private. He followed, and at the same time Licks Too Much leaped up and happily greeted his long-over due master. He bent down to pet his dog, the animal had unconditional love for him, and he welcomed the affection, but he needed to talk to his aunt, and the dog was distracting him with his attentiveness.

  “Sorry, old boy, but out you go. We will have time to see one another later.” The dog obeyed and ran outside, but Blue Thunder knew he would find the canine waiting patiently by the door for him.

  His aunt sat by the smoldering embers and so did he. She placed her fingers on his arm tenderly, and said, “I am happy my brother’s son is alive.” Then placing a hand over her chest,

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  she declared, “In my heart, I knew you had not crossed over to the other s
ide and you would return. Your father and brother did not see truth in my words of hope and went to the mountain to mourn.”

  Blue Thunder’s eyes watered as he hugged her. “My aunt has great wisdom. I will send a runner to fetch unbelieving father and brother,” he said with a teasing grin. “Please, see that my prisoner gets a good meal.” He hesitated a moment, “And kind aunt, please give her one of your dresses. I must see to my mount and I need time to think.”

  Laughing Tree nodded. “I will do as nephew asks. She is a very beautiful white girl.” She looked at him with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “This child is a beauty but nephew; I envision a hard life ahead for you if you kept girl with hair like moon’s glow.”

  He stood saying, “I think aunt is too wise.”

  Someone softly shook Melissa’s shoulder. Thinking it was Blue Thunder, she jumped, clutching the blanket as if it were her lifeline. Her eyes widened when she saw the older woman kneeling by her. The woman handed her a large wooden bowl which she wanted to refuse. When her stomach rumbled, she thought better of it. Taking the offering, she studied the thick broth, wondering what it was. The woman then handed her a crude wooden spoon. The broth was very tasty and Melissa discovered there were some vegetables and a little meat at the bottom of the thick liquid. She ate it all quickly. The woman greeted her with a stiff nod, but her eyes were kind telling her that the Indian felt sympathy when she handed the empty bowl back.

  Melissa stood, no longer feeling threatened by her. The Indian seemed kind and she wondered who she was. Hoping the woman would not leave her alone, she tried to make conversation by saying, “That was very good,” then pointed to the bowl. The woman looked puzzled so she spoke slower. “G-o-o-d.” The Indian repeated her word and Melissa wondered if

  woman could understand or was playing dumb like Blue Thunder had. She decided to keep trying anyway.

  “Thank you, you are kind. I am Melissa.” She pointed to herself. The Indian nodded.

  “Me-lis-sa.” The woman’s dark eyes seemed to brighten with understanding but she shook her head, saying, “Moon Glow.” She pointed to her hair making Melissa confused.

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  “Moon Glow,” the woman repeated, touching Melissa’s long silken strands.

  “Moon Glow,” she whispered, touching her own pale locks. “Moon Glow,” she nodded and laughed, liking the sound of her own voice. It had been a long time since she heard herself laughing.

  “Friend,” the woman said.

  “Oh,” She knew this white man’s word. Melissa could have cried for joy; she had found a friend among her enemies.

  “Friend,” Melissa repeated, and then giggled uncontrollably. What came over her, since she was so tense and frightened? Now she was lightheaded and silly. The strain of the past several days must have been too much for her. She stopped laughing and wiped her teary eyes.

  Then the woman pointed to herself. “Laughing Tree.”

  “You are called Laughing Tree?” Indians have strange name, she thought, but kept that notion to herself.

  The kind Indian handed her the garment that was on her arm. At first Melissa didn’t know what was expected of her, and then she realized Laughing Tree was offering clothing. She studied it for a moment, hesitant to accept the gift, but the woman placed it firmly in her hands.

  As it unraveled, she gasped at the beauty of the soft dress made of animal skin. It was more beautiful than some of the ball gowns she had owned.

  Melissa refused and shook her head. “I can’t take this, it’s too beautiful. I know you made it with your own hands, the workmanship is exquisite.”

  “I understand some words and see admiration in light eyes. I am pleased. Work envied by women in village. Someday, I teach Moon Glow Indian skill.”

  Melissa looked tenderly at the compassionate woman. “Thank you,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. Why was this one so kind? “You are a friend.”

  Laughing Tree nodded, “Friend.”

  Melissa hugged her new soft gift and didn’t notice she was alone again until she looked up.

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  SEVENTEEN

  Melissa looked at her soiled undergarments, then quickly disrobed and tried on the dress. It was short, reaching only a little below her knees and she wasn’t used to her legs showing. The dress was so comfortable and soft against her bare skin that it made her feel naughty. She grinned mischievously.

  Would Blue Thunder like me in it?

  Oh, what do I care anyway? she snapped at her notion. What’s wrong with me? She questioned her thoughts. Her only answer was, I’ve been in the desert too long! She snorted at her self-analyzing but one thing she’d say for the redskins, they did know how to dress comfort-ably. She recalled her shock when first seeing Blue Thunder clad only in buckskin pants. The sight of his bare chest still made her skin tingle. She ran her palms down her sides, amazed at the soft feel, all the time thinking about her Indian’s hands running down her sides in the same manner. Her Indian? Where did that thought come from?

  From you, her conscience chided. And you better get it out of your head! You have nothing in common.

  Since when did she start scolding herself and so often?

  With her belly full and feeling somewhat better, she lay down thinking about Blue

  Thunder and how much life had changed in such a short time. She missed her family and prayed that Daphne would be all right with Seth.

  The moon was hidden behind dark clouds when Blue Thunder returned from his swim. He sat for a while with his thoughts on the girl in his lodge. He loved her the moment he saw her by the wagon and still thanked the great spirits for sparing her life. Fierier than anyone he had ever met, she angered him beyond limits but he would have her no other way, as long as she held her tongue among his people. She could fight him all she wanted in his dwelling, for she stirred

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  the fire in his loins like no other. There will be many happy moons taming her temper but not too many he prayed.

  Blue Thunder smiled when Licks Too Much came charging out of the thicket with the stick he had fetched. Dropping it at his master’s feet, his tail wagged and he drooled trying to catch his breath. “Had enough exercise, old boy?” The dog barked then sat licking his shin. “I guess you have. Now, lie down and if you have any advice for this Apache, I would love to hear it.” He relayed his thoughts to the dog, but Licks Too Much only looked up with sad eyes. He sighed long and hard. “Well, old boy, I guess you do not have a solution. Come on, it is late. Now, you must sleep outside until the white woman knows you. She has had enough surprises for now.” The dog whined at his advice but he would obey.

  Blue Thunder found her asleep on the fur skin rug but frowned that she was still in the dress. Apaches did not own large wardrobes because animal skins were scarce and used for many other things besides clothes. His kind didn’t sleep in clothes, either. No Apache was shamed by

  lying on the earth with flesh against flesh. They do not wear much so the sun god can kiss their bodies with love and warmth in the warm climate. White man has funny customs, he thought as he disrobed and snuggled close.

  The sleeping girl unconsciously nestled against his warm body. He looked at her beautiful features, touching lightly the brown specks across her pert nose. It wiggled like a rabbit, making him smile. Her face was clearing quickly and her tender skin was now only slightly pink. How sweet and innocent she looked but he knew better. He wanted her now and had been thinking of her ripe body all day.

  “Honey Eyes,” he whispered in her ear. “Take off dress,” he ordered his voice laden with desire. “Ummm,” she sighed and pushed his hand away, mumbling in her sleep. Blue Thunder took this as a rejection and snapped, “I said, take off dress!” His voice lost it gentleness.

  Melissa had been dreaming of Blue Thunder and she was ready for him. He was doing wonderful things to her body and she was faintly aware of her dress being unlaced. She liked the feel of the smooth garment and didn’t want to remove it. H
er eyes snapped open as she became

  fully awake at the sharp sound of his voice. All the emotions of that day, the remembrance of

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  how he had let his people treat her, came flooding back to her consciousness. She sat up clutching at the unlaced bodice, shaking her head.

  “Don’t touch me… you...” But she never finished. Blue Thunder held her face between his strong hands and tenderly kissed her mouth before she could say more. She trembled under his touch. She wanted him, she didn’t want him. Oh, why did her body melt so easily at the nearness of him? She whimpered deep in her throat.

  He released her face and said with a controlling voice, “Take off dress or I will.”

  Melissa sucked in her breath, recalling how he destroyed her last garment; she didn’t want him to ruin this one. With trembling hands, she lifted it over her head and laid it aside. Blue Thunder took her quickly but her body, if not her soul, was ready for him. He made long passionate love to her all night and before dawn he coached her on how she would have to learn the Apache customs.

  “There is lot to learn. I will have Laughing Tree teach you our ways, including our tongue.”

  “Oh, is she the woman who was kind to me; she gave me that lovely dress.” A tired sigh escaped her mouth as she snuggled closer, and smiled feeling contented, no longer remembering why she should be angry.

  “She is aunt, sister of my father, Dasodaha,” he answered her question. “I am happy you like her. My aunt holds no evil in her heart for anyone. She is wise beyond her years and will be good friend to you. It pleases me you like dress. In time, you will learn craft to make own.”

  “Hmmm,” was her answer and didn’t care to listen any more.

  Blue Thunder slept a short time before the sun warmed the hut. He grinned down at her, knowing she should be up with the others. His people got up with the sun and did not waste time lying on their mat. His honey eyes must learn their customs, but for now he would give her time to sleep. She had been through much and he had kept her up to the early hours; she would start lessons tomorrow. Now, he will see if his father and brother have returned from the mountain.