How could she go back out there and face him? Knowing she must or he’d come for her, Sarah hesitantly stepped out of the concealing bushes.
Spotting him leaning against a tree, she felt her face flame as she recalled where his hands had been. God help her, she’d be better off if she had found his touch as repulsive as Willy’s, but she couldn’t deceive herself. She hadn’t. And on top of it all, she found herself longing to feel his flesh against hers again.
Sarah slowed, waited, her eyes focused at some point over his shoulder, thankful that the semi-darkness hid her embarrassment.
Golden Eagle reached for her, but Sarah hastily stepped back to avoid his touch.
Focusing on anger, it being0 the easier emotion to deal with, she blurted out, “Don’t touch me, Golden Eagle. You had no right to—to—”
Golden Eagle pulled Sarah to his damp chest, his finger lifting her shame-filled gaze to his.
“Come. You would tell me you did not enjoy it?” he mocked, one brow rising, daring her to deny what had flowed between them.
Raising his hand, Golden Eagle prevented Sarah’s angry denial. “There will be no lies between us, Sarah.” Dark eyes were pitted against blue. “We both know there is strong magic between us. That is why I carry a lock of your hair, and you carry beads that I once wore in mine.”
Releasing her before Sarah could reply, Golden Eagle sniffed the air, a grin appearing that matched the sparkle of laughter deep in his eyes. “Come. Red Fox has our evening meal ready. Some hungers can be satisfied now. Others must wait.”
Sarah gasped. To her dismay, she found he had indeed left her with an aching hunger, a hunger that had nothing to do with food. She spun out of his arms and hardened her heart, ruthlessly driving out all thought of what had passed between them. But in truth, she only wanted to be back in his arms and have him extinguish the smoldering fire he’d ignited.
Lost in dreams, Sarah snuggled deeper into the cocoon of warmth surrounding her as flashes of past carefree days flitted across her mind. Days when she’d had the freedom to run through meadows filled with wildflowers or lay on her back to dream as clouds floated by. Days when she rode Black Lady to her heart’s content through tall grass, as she explored the land she loved.
She tried turning, and found she couldn’t move. A frown marred her features, and she became aware of a heavy weight draped across her shoulders. She woke in a panic.
In seconds, she remembered she was on the hard floor of the forest. Slowly, she turned her head and discovered she was nestled against Golden Eagle. His arm was draped possessively across her shoulders, the warmth of his breath mingling with hers, his sleep-relaxed face only inches away.
Holding her breath, she tried to move from under his arm, but Golden Eagle shifted, his arm tightening.
Sarah stiffened, watched and waited. His breathing remained even and she sighed with relief. Not daring to move in case she woke him, she let her thoughts wander to the night before.
She’d never met anyone like Golden Eagle. He was hard, demanding and stubborn, but she’d also caught glimpses of the caring and sensitive warrior she’d once known.
Unlike Red Fox. She shuddered, thankful it was Golden Eagle who’d found her. Red Fox glared at her, hatred burning from his dark eyes whenever she chanced to glance his way.
When they had returned from the stream last night, Red Fox had had a warm fire glowing and fish cooking on long sticks. Golden Eagle had led her to the warmth of the fire and before he would let her eat, he’d combed and dried her hair.
Despite her protest that she could do it herself, he had gently untangled the long wet tresses and braided her hair into one long braid to hang down her back.
She’d been thankful that the darkness hid her flushed features as she’d been intensely aware of his bare thighs cradling her, his heat surrounding her.
Now, looking at his smooth strong chest, Sarah blushed as she unwillingly recalled his sleek naked body gliding against hers. Her body had reacted with a mind of its own, inviting his touch, begging for his caresses.
Her lips had welcomed his, slowly opening for his searching tongue. Only inexperience and an overwhelming shyness had prevented her from returning his bold advances.
Sarah’s eyes moved to his lips just a breath away. Full. Soft and slightly parted in sleep. She itched to stroke the soft fullness. Her fingers rose, hovered. Dare she? He was asleep, it was still dark.
Soft as a butterfly’s caress, her fingers fluttered along the length of his bottom lip finding it warm, soft and moist. His arm twitched, and she froze as Golden Eagle moved toward her, forcing her to her back as his arm fell across her chest. Sarah held her breath, a quick look confirming he was still asleep.
Now what? she thought, trying to ignore the touch of his arm lying across the tops of her breasts. Her eyes closed as her breasts swelled, nipples hardening in response to his warmth. She couldn’t help remembering his large hands upon them, fondling, caressing and teasing. Nothing like Willy’s rough mauling. No pain, only a sweet longing followed by a driving need for more.
Willing such thoughts from her mind, she concentrated on calming her rapid breathing, reminding herself that she needed to keep her mind sharp, not let her guard down.
While a part of her did trust Golden Eagle, she did not trust Red Fox, and had no idea what to expect from others of their tribe.
And how could she convince Golden Eagle to release her? Last night had shown her there was more at stake than just finding the one who sired her. Sarah had the feeling that if she remained with Golden Eagle, she would lose a lot more than just her virtue.
The warm spicy scent of Golden Eagle became too much for her overwhelmed senses. Not caring if he woke, Sarah turned to slide out from under his arm and away from all that distracting maleness. She was therefore startled to find herself pulled on top of his chest, his arms holding her captive.
She stared into his smoldering eyes and saw amusement shining from within. The corners of his mouth were uplifted, softening his harsh features in the gray light of morning.
Like a magnet, her fingers itched to explore what her eyes beheld.
Flushing, she wondered how long he’d been awake, watching her.
Golden Eagle spoke, his voice low and husky. “What thoughts go through your mind so early to bring the color of a new sun to your face?” he teased, trailing one long brown finger across her bruised cheek and over her parted lips.
Cursing his ability to read her mind so accurately, Sarah clamped her lips together and pushed away from him.
“That is none of your business, Golden Eagle!” she informed him as she jumped to her feet and stalked off.
Golden Eagle lifted himself to lean on one elbow as he watched Sarah shove through low-growing bushes. He laughed out loud and found himself looking forward to the new day. Lying back, hands under his head, he watched darkness slowly give way to the light of the new day, and realized the restlessness that had plagued him of late was gone. In its place was a burning need for the woman he’d helped as a child.
He ignored the guilt of his upcoming marriage. Somehow, he would find a way to keep Sarah with him always. For he truly believed she was a gift from the Great Spirit. That decided, he rose to his feet in one smooth lithe movement.
Deep in the Paha Sapa—Hills of the Shadow—another pair of eyes were directed toward the morning sky peeking through the top of the tipi. They were unaware of the streaks of pink that heralded the rising of the new sun. They saw only images flashing across her honey-brown eyes.
In her dream state, the woman saw her son standing tall and proud at the top of Great Gray Rock. His feet were planted firmly apart, his head held proudly as he surveyed the land below that would one day be his to guide. His hands came to rest arrogantly on lean hips.
The images continued to play out as arms wrapped themselves around her son’s waist from behind. A head appeared and, standing on tiptoe, a young woman rested her small pointed chin on his su
n-warmed shoulder. Eyes as blue as the sky above sparkled with happiness. The wind lifted her pale hair, sending silky strands toward the soft, fluffy clouds that hovered above the young carefree couple.
Turning, the mighty warrior pulled the laughing girl into the warm protective haven of his arms. Black eyes met blue. Hard firm lips met soft pink ones, before the girl turned and leaned against the golden warrior. There they stood, looking out across the wondrous view before them.
The woman watched an eagle far above in the clouds. She watched it glide on the cool gentle breeze as it called for its mate. Clouds swept by and swallowed the great golden bird, hiding it from the world below. Only its cries could be heard, carried by the strong wind.
What was it saying? the woman wondered. The wind carried the cry closer. It seemed as if the wind were whispering, trying to tell her something. A name perhaps. The name of the eagle’s mate?
Frowning in concentration, Seeing Eyes woke. Sitting upright, she waited for her eyes to clear before quietly making her way to the closed flap of the tipi. Silently, she slipped out and headed though the trees and bushes that sheltered the sleeping village. She came to the gentle flowing stream and knelt. Reaching into the water, she splashed cold liquid onto her face, neck and arms.
Rising, she sat on a large flat rock, watched life stir around her to start a new day and reviewed her dream.
The Great Spirit had once again revealed the future to her through dreams. He had confirmed the mate for her son. A white woman with hair the color of the sun and eyes the blue of the sky. This was the girl the Great Spirit would send.
Closing her eyes, she searched her mind for other messages. Something was eluding her. What was it? She remembered the wind as it blew the girl’s hair. Seeing Eyes sought to remember.
The wind. It seemed to whisper a name. Struggling to remember, Seeing Eyes finally gave up. It would come to her in time. It always did.
Understanding the difficulties that lay ahead and the pain for her son, she sent a prayer of thanks to the Great Spirit for revealing to her his wishes.
Unaware of her husband’s approach, Seeing Eyes gave a start of surprise when Hawk Eyes came from behind, drawing her into his arms as he asked, “Why does the wife of Hawk Eyes sit here alone instead of waking beside her husband? What troubles you, wife?”
Seeing Eyes didn’t answer. How could she tell him what was to be? He would think her dream was because she opposed Wild-Flower as a daughter. No. She could not. It would do no good to tell her husband these things now. Better for him to accept on his own. The will of the Great Spirit would be done as always, regardless of one’s wishes.
Receiving no response, Hawk Eyes gently turned Seeing Eyes to face him, lifting her chin with the tip of a calloused finger.
Staring deep into her eyes, Hawk Eyes recognized the distant look and drew her into his arms, waiting for her to speak.
“Dreams, my sharp-eyed Hawk. I have seen again. The Great Spirit has spoken to me.” Falling silent, she glanced over her shoulder to see her husband’s raised brows.
Seeing Eyes shook her head against the silent question. Reaching up, she cupped his strong chin. “Change, my husband, my chief.”
Standing, Seeing Eyes waited for her husband. Chief Hawk Eyes rose. He knew from experience that this was all he would be told.
Hand in hand, Hawk Eyes led his helpmate back to the village, both absorbed in their own thoughts.
Chapter Nine
Huddled close to Golden Eagle, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, hood pulled low against the driving rain, Sarah swallowed a groan of pain. She was drenched to the skin, and painful raw patches made their presence known on her inner thighs as her soaked breeches clung tightly, rubbing against her tender flesh.
One arm remained wrapped tightly around Golden Eagle’s slick waist as Sarah let go of the hood to impatiently wipe the moisture running down her face. As she shoved at the hair plastered to her cheeks, the wind blew the hood off her head. Again.
Resigned, she closed her eyes. I give up, she sighed. My hair is soaked. I’m tired. I need to change my clothes and I’m sick of traveling. And with each stride of the galloping horses she grew more apprehensive. Soon, they would arrive in Golden Eagle’s village. Would his people be friendly? Or would they treat her as Red Fox did— with unconcealed hostility.
She noticed the rain had no effect on either warrior and that neither one seemed concerned with her misery.
Midmorning brought relief from the storm as it dwindled to a light drizzle, then faded completely as the trio arrived at the edge of Golden Eagle’s village. All was quiet. Smoke rose from many tipis, and only children and dogs seemed to appreciate nature’s shower.
Nervously, Sarah pulled her sodden cloak closer, hiding her wet and tangled hair beneath her hood. She shivered.
Golden Eagle and Red Fox dismounted, leaving Sarah to slide down on her own. Retrieving her bundle of meager possessions, Sarah stood quietly to one side.
Red Fox turned abruptly and glared at Sarah as he spoke to Golden Eagle in their tongue. Taking the rope leads of all five horses, he strode off.
Sarah watched Red Fox go with relief and wondered why he disliked her so. Did he blame her for what Willy had done?
Letting her gaze wander to the village before her, Sarah received her first surprise. Spread before her stood roughly twenty large tipis.
They were arranged in three circles, with the smaller circles inside and all doors facing east. The village had a neat, clean, organized appearance.
She hastily reformed her impressions that Indians were dirty, unkempt and disorganized. She saw no such evidence here. Tantalizing smells mingled with wood smoke, children ran about in what nature had provided them with and heads peered from open flaps of the dwellings.
Golden Eagle turned to Sarah. “Stay behind me. Do as I say and don’t speak until spoken to.” Not waiting for her reply, he turned and started walking toward the center of the village.
Sarah followed, limping slightly from the saddle sores. To take her mind from the pain, she studied the big clean tipis they passed. They were much larger than she would have thought, and many were adorned with colorful paintings, quills and feathers. Some also had suspicious objects hanging from what looked like hair. Shuddering, she refused to look too closely.
Word spread quickly that the last two warriors had returned with a stranger. Children ran into their tipis and heads peered out as they wound their way between the large dwellings. Many greetings and questions were called out to Golden Eagle.
Sarah looked over her shoulder, saw they were being followed and looked away in embarrassment. A good number of women and girls wore very little clothing.
Sarah stopped behind Golden Eagle near the entrance to one of the largest tipis and waited, pulling the heavy dark cloak around her shoulders.
Golden Eagle frowned when he noticed Sarah’s blue chattering lips. Reaching out, he fingered the cloak, felt its wetness and noticed the bottom was caked in mud from the walk to his father’s tipi.
It hadn’t occurred to him that she was so wet. Requiring little clothing, he was already dry. He tugged at the wet garment “Take it off,” he commanded, pulling the ties to the cloak. “You will warm and dry faster. Soon, you will be able to change.” The crowd fell silent and all eyes were on the stranger.
Sarah started to protest, but then she looked into his eyes and remembered his warnings. Full of trepidation, she unfastened the cloak and removed it, her shirt and breeches clinging as a second skin.
Silence descended, then gasps filled the air as all eyes fell to the white girl dressed as a white man. Fingers pointed to her snarled hair that hung loose and wet, the braid having come undone long ago.
They gathered behind her like bees swarming to a new and exotic flower.
Turning back to Sarah after replying to an older man, Golden Eagle nearly knocked her down, she was so close. “You will wait here,” he commanded.
Sarah’s e
yes widened in alarm. The thought of being left alone out here with strangers who stared and whispered among themselves as they pointed fingers at her was terrifying.
“You will come to no harm. My people are simply curious,” Golden Eagle reassured her, careful not to reveal tenderness or concern as he spoke. With that, he turned to his father’s tipi and waited for permission to enter.
Seated on the thick fur of a buffalo, consuming his midday meal of dried meat, crushed chokecherries and nuts. Chief Hawk Eyes became aware of the commotion within his village.
He glanced out the open flap, and pleasure and thanks surged through him upon seeing that his son and Red Fox had returned.
He watched and waited eagerly for the news his son would bring. His brows rose, hand stopping midway to his mouth, when he caught sight of the stranger limping behind Golden Eagle.
His gut tightened. Instinctively he felt something was not right. A feeling of foreboding descended when he watched the figure remove a piece of clothing to reveal a very feminine figure and hair of a shade he’d never seen, hair the color of a new moon.
As he watched his son speak with her, he noticed she was not bound, nor did she seem frightened. He discarded his food, appetite gone with the feeling that the white girl meant trouble.
He glanced toward his wife, seated on the other side of the tipi sewing garments made from doeskin, and announced quietly, “Wife, our son returns. He has a white girl with him.”
Seeing Eyes did not look up as she replied, “Yes, my husband. I know.”
Hawk Eyes narrowed his eyes as he studied his wife, her head bent intently to her task. Her simple reply to an unusual occurrence implied much to the great chief, who pushed such unacceptable thoughts from his mind.
Rising swiftly, he took the couple of steps needed to stand before her.
Squatting, he lifted the softened doeskin garment from her fingers. He held it up, for once oblivious to the workmanship that was the envy of many and a great source of pride to him. The dress was nearly complete. It was far too small for his wife and far too large for his daughter.
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