White Wind

by Susan Edwards

  However, there were two in the village eagerly awaiting for her to balk or refuse some task: Night Star and Chief Hawk Eyes. To both she had shown she was no quitter.

  A memory came to mind. Ben had always cleaned the animals he hunted. Smiling fondly, Sarah could imagine his shocked weathered old face if he knew she was actually doing this job now and not too badly either.

  He’d always claimed, “The catchin’ and cleanin’ is best left to us menfolk. The cookin’ and fixin’s is best left to you womenfolk.” Of course, Ben was a terrible cook. If not for Mary, Ben would have starved long ago.

  Still, she would have a nice assortment of skins and furs to take back and show off. Seeing Eyes had informed Sarah that she could keep the furs of whatever she skinned and use them as she saw fit. But she had to tan and prepare them herself.

  And that unwelcome thought reminded her of the reason why her arms and wrists ached. She had helped Seeing Eyes with the tanning of a large antelope hide that afternoon.

  Though she was tired and her body ached from the unaccustomed work, she was proud of her new skills and knew she would improve with practice. She thought of her mother. Had Emily done these same chores the summer she’d spent with her Indian warrior?

  Sarah smiled. If she found her father, she would go to him with the skills of a plains Indian woman. She would not disgrace his tipi—unless he resented her white blood. Frowning, she put the thoughts of her future from her. She had enough to cope with just surviving day to day.

  The breeze picked up, cooling the air. Sarah lifted her face into the wind, feeling it caress her neck and face. On impulse, she reached for the leather thongs that held her hair in two neat plaits. Dropping them into her lap and using her fingers as a comb, Sarah slowly separated the strands until they streamed in a shimmering mass down her back and over her arms.

  The wind picked up the silky gossamer threads and playfully tossed the sparkling strands about, turning them white in the bright glare of the afternoon sun.

  Seeing Eyes headed toward the water’s edge, looking for the white girl. She rounded a bend which shielded the girl from view. Stopping dead in her tracks, the older woman stared in fascination at the sight she beheld.

  Sarah sat, legs drawn to her chest, eyes closed, face turned to the warmth of the sun, hair whipping around her head. Seeing Eyes’s breath caught. It was the vision of her dream. The girl’s pale hair seemed almost to be a part of the wind it drifted on.

  Wind. White Wind. Her grin widened. Seeing Eyes knew she had the elusive missing part of her vision.

  She shook her head. It was so obvious. White Wind was to be Sarah’s Indian name. Deep in thought, she backed away and silently retraced her steps, abandoning her reasons for seeking Sarah out.

  Leaning into the strong gusty breeze, she became lost in thought as she mulled over what had been revealed to her this day. Seeing the wind lifting and tossing Sarah’s hair had been all it took to jog her memory.

  She would give the tired girl some time to herself. Since her first morning, Sarah had worked hard without complaint from the time she was called to wakefulness until darkness fell.

  No matter what chores she’d been assigned, Sarah completed the many time-consuming and even difficult tasks that made up a woman’s daily life in the village. She’d even met skinning the many small furry animals with the same stubborn determination. None could find fault with her.

  Seeing Eyes smiled, her eyes shining with amusement as she thought back to Sarah’s first attempt at skinning.

  It had been obvious to all that the girl had never done this sort of task before, and many doubted that she’d finish her first rabbit as her face went as pale as her hair. But she’d shown them. Gritting her teeth, Sarah had hacked and sawed, clumsily imitating Bright Blossom, until she had a pot full of meat simmering in an old black pot.

  None even minded or made comment about the waste of bone and fur. It hadn’t mattered. Sarah had shown the people in Hawk Eyes’s village that she had courage and determination.

  Since that day, Sarah had proven to be a hard worker, willing to learn. Many had respect for the white woman whose skills would improve with practice.

  Hawk Eyes glanced up as his soul mate entered their tipi. He raised a questioning brow when he didn’t see the white girl behind his wife.

  Seeing Eyes responded to her mate’s raised brow. “She rests by the water, my husband. I will let her remain for now. She has worked hard this day.” Seeing Eyes did not speak of what was revealed to her.

  Hawk Eyes went back to sharpening his knife. He contemplated the time the girl had been in their tipi.

  His wife had insisted she stay in their tipi while their son was away. On his own, he’d have left her to fend for herself, hoping that she would run off and disappear from his village. But he’d given his word to Golden Eagle to extend his protection to her while he was gone.

  Bushy brows drew together. So far, her actions were not the typical white behavior when faced with captivity.

  Hawk Eyes did not understand her willingness to learn their ways. He’d expected rebellion, downright refusal to do some of her tasks.

  Purposely, he’d returned from a hunt with an armload of animals. Normally, he would not have caught that many in one day. Not because he couldn’t. There was simply no need for so much at one time. The reproachful look of his wife had nearly shamed him for his behavior.

  Hawk Eyes had been certain the girl would refuse to do her duty. He watched from a discreet distance as she set about her task of cleaning and skinning the animals, almost positive she would disgrace his tipi. To his amazement the weakness he sought to uncover never appeared. When she served his meal that night, she’d shown him a look of pride.

  Hawk Eyes shook his head in frustration. His son’s white woman was very unusual, and somehow that made it worse! If she’d complained, cried, refused to work, he’d feel better able to cope with her. The last thing he wanted to feel for her was respect. Alas, he was a fair man and knew she was grudgingly earning it.

  A short time later, the quiet in the tipi ruptured as squeals of delight and laughter filled the air. With a rush of energy, Golden Eagle burst through the doorway, barely ducking low enough to allow clearance for the small giggling rider clinging to his back.

  “He’s back! He’s back. Golden Eagle has returned,” the rider chanted, loud enough for all to hear, as she pulled on long ebony braids. “Again, Golden Eagle, please?” the childish voice begged.

  Sinking down to the floor, Golden Eagle allowed his sister to slide down. “No, that is enough for now, Winona. You will tire your big brother. Then what good will this warrior be?” Golden Eagle joked.

  “My big brother, if carrying me will tire you, then you are not the great warrior all talk about,” Winona playfully cried, her hands resting at her tiny waist.

  Unable to let that insult pass without retaliating, Golden Eagle gave chase to his young snickering sister. Catching her, he wrestled with her for a few moments, tickling her ribs till she begged for mercy. “My sister becomes sharp-minded as well as sharp-tongued,” he teased, standing.

  Love shone in Golden Eagle’s eyes as he and his father stood side by side and watched Winona lying quiet, an occasional giggle from being tickled still escaping from her “It has been a while since Golden Eagle has seen Winona,” the young warrior said. He leaned down and fingered one long braid as she jumped up. “My sister is growing up fast. Soon, this brother will be watching as the braves come to visit.”

  Watching his two children, Chief Hawk Eyes smiled with indulgence. Winona, meaning First Born Daughter, was the family’s pride and joy. After so many long and barren years, Seeing Eyes had despaired of ever giving him more children. They had given up, resigned themselves to only one child to love and raise.

  When Seeing Eyes announced she was with child the entire village celebrated, none more than she, who praised Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, for sending her another child. Their daughter was n
ow nearing seven winters, and she had brought love and laughter into his declining years. She made him feel young again.

  Chief Hawk Eyes gave his full attention to his son. Briefly, Golden Eagle related to his father the information he gathered: the location of the herds of buffalo, how many there were and their condition.

  Nodding his head, Hawk Eyes spoke. “Well done, my son. I will trust your judgment.” There was much planning to do before the big hunt and much work to be done afterward. When all the tasks were finished, the tired people of his tribe would be ready for a period of celebration.

  This would be the best time to hold the joining of two tribes. Many tribes of his nation would join for days of feasting and ceremonies. Rising agilely to his feet, Chief Hawk Eyes left the tipi, encouraging his young daughter to trail after him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Golden Eagle shook himself dry and dressed. Now that the dust of travel had been cleansed from his body, he would go find Sarah. Walking among the tall grass next to the water’s edge, he mulled over his mother’s announcement.

  White Wind. That would become Sarah’s new name. When he thought about it, the name fit. Fit very well indeed. Sarah had reentered his life as unexpectedly as the winds of storms, capturing his heart and confusing his mind. Things had not been the same since she had tumbled back into his life. Yes, White Wind was a very suitable name.

  In the three weeks he’d been away, not a day had passed that he hadn’t thought of her, worried how she fared, and each night his body burned with longing deep into the night.

  Seeing her, he stopped. His breath caught in his throat and his pulse pounded. He took the time to drink in her beauty, and felt the gnawing ache of heightened passion rush through him.

  His eyes fell to the leather thong that dangled from his fingers. His hand lifted and he viewed the necklace he’d made for Sarah. The small carved wooden eagle hung with wings outstretched, ready to soar to great heights. Suddenly, he found himself almost afraid of approaching her, unsure of her reaction to him. Did she desire him as he so desperately yearned for her? Or would she deny the magic of their coupling and force him to begin anew?

  Memorizing each and every detail, he savored the refreshing sight she made, sitting at the water’s edge, completely relaxed and as one with nature.

  Sarah sat, legs outstretched, ankles crossed, leaning on her elbows, her fingers absently plucking blades of grass. She sighed, closed her eyes and lost herself in the peace and serenity surrounding her. Water gurgled and splashed, insects hummed as she enjoyed the comforting presence of the gentle breeze caressing her as softly as a lover’s lips.

  Sarah frowned. Why had she thought of that? As she’d done many times since her arrival, she pushed thoughts of Golden Eagle and his captivating touch from her mind.

  A small shiver darted up her spine, inducing fine hairs on the back of her neck to rise in defense as she slowly became aware of another presence nearby. A human presence. Sarah felt eyes boring into her, willing her to turn her head.

  After several fraught seconds, there was no doubt in her mind who was standing just mere feet away. Only one person could have this effect on her. Golden Eagle had returned.

  Unable to resist the silent command that pulled her like a magnet, Sarah opened her heavy lids. Slowly, her head turned.

  Involuntarily her jaw dropped as she beheld the glorious sight of Golden Eagle. He stood as the proud warrior, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence.

  It was beyond understanding how one person could command such power and authority without the use of words.

  She watched him lift a lean brown leg, then place a bare foot on the boulder in front of him. Sarah’s gaze lingered, unable to tear her eyes away from this golden, virile male.

  She swallowed, filling her memory with each aspect of his appearance. Before they’d made love, she’d been too shy, too unsure, to look at him for long. With her new knowledge as a woman, she studied him now with the eyes of a lover.

  His legs, strong and sturdy from his bulging calves to thick thighs, were covered with a faint dusting of dark hairs that glistened with drops of water. He stood tensed, muscles coiled, ready to spring into action if the need arose.

  His large hands rested lightly on one raised thigh, one over the other. Sarah’s eyes were drawn to his long sensitive fingers that made her squirm with remembered pleasure.

  The solid muscular cords in his arms flexed under her close scrutiny, arms that held tenderly, or could become bands of hardened steel.

  Her eyes swept quickly past the breechclout that hid his manhood, not quite brave enough to dwell there. Yet. Her hungry gaze slid over his firm flat abdomen, up to his scarred, sun-bronzed, rock-hard chest. There they latched on to twin disks, dusky with small pebbles in their centers.

  What would they taste like? What would it feel like to take the round nubs into her mouth, to tease them with her tongue and lips as he’d done to her?

  Blushing, she forced her eyes past the strong column of his neck, over his firm chin, lingering momentarily on the hint of a cleft and a jawbone that she’d seen harden with stubbornness and soften with a smile.

  Finally, she came to the striking features of his proud arrogant head. High cheekbones, long, straight aquiline nose, down to the full, firm lips that could easily turn her into a weak helpless mass of trembling with just one brush against hers. Under her gaze, the corners of his mouth lifted in an indulgent grin.

  After what seemed hours, but in reality was only seconds, she raised seeking blue eyes to his. What she saw from that brief contact had her lowering her lids quickly, hiding her embarrassment as she sat up.

  His eyes, dark as a moonless night, smoldered with fire, burning a path to the surface to shine brightly, like stars breaking out of the gloomy darkness with their twinkling flashes of light.

  Sparks leaped the distance between them, sending waves of white heat to pulse through her, igniting the desire nestled deep within her.

  Golden Eagle had remained still to allow Sarah to explore his body with her gaze. Roaming freely, lingering hungrily, her eyes caressed, invited and inflamed before he made a move toward her.

  Sarah watched from the corner of her eye as her warrior neared, then stood over her, his legs straddling hers. Lifting her eyes, she stared at his outstretched hand.

  Taking a deep breath, she tentatively put her fingers on his palm. Immediately, her hand disappeared in his firm grasp and she stood before him.

  “When did you get back? Was your trip a success? After I fix our meal, you can tell me about it,” she babbled, shivering from his heat. She tried to pull her hand free, needing to put some distance between them so she could think.

  Golden Eagle held firm, reached out with his free hand to lightly grasp the back of Sarah’s neck. Slowly, he lowered his head, planting light feathery kisses on her soft pliant lips as they trembled beneath his.

  “Talk can wait. Walk with me.” His voice commanded, low and husky with desire.

  Unable to tear her eyes away from his, Sarah shook her head. “I have to get back and help Seeing Eyes finish the meal. I…” Her voice trailed off. She was drowning in pools of black, unable to resist his call.

  Without releasing her hand, Golden Eagle led her farther upstream, away from the village.

  Sarah stole a glance sideways. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, warning bells rang. She was taking a risk playing this game, a game she could only lose. Lose what? Stealing another peek at the silent warrior, she knew the answer at once—her heart.

  After several minutes, she hung back, suddenly longing for the safety of the village. She concentrated on her duties, anything to prevent this golden warrior from capturing her heart.

  Weakly, Sarah protested, “Please, Golden Eagle, we must return now. Your parents will wonder where we are.” She met with no response.

  Rounding another bend, they followed the winding stream. Sarah noticed the surrounding woods becoming thicker. Coming to a halt
, Golden Eagle stopped the flow of words with a single finger placed gently against her warm lips.

  “Hush, do not worry, sweet one. My family will not worry. They know you are with me. We will eat later. It is not food for my belly that I hunger for at this moment.”

  With that, he claimed her lips hungrily, parting her soft, moist lips, slipping his probing tongue inside. Pulling her against his long lean length, he ran one hand through corn-silk tresses. With his other hand, he stroked her back, molding her body to his intimately, letting her know of his great need for her.

  Yielding to the feel of him, Sarah opened her mouth hungrily, allowed him full passage to explore, taste and tease. Her own tongue, stimulated by his, stroked and explored as they danced to their own special music.

  As she slipped one hand up his warm chest, her fingers came to rest on his small flat nipples, their tips hard and round. Hesitantly, she flicked each one, amazed that they swelled slightly as she stroked. Becoming bolder, Sarah lightly pinched and rubbed the small pebble between finger and thumb as their tongues continued to frolic in their teasing play.

  A rumbling sound filled her ears as Golden Eagle let out a moan of pleasure. Taking advantage of her freed mouth, Sarah shyly lowered her head, giving in to the need to taste and explore his wonderful male body. Where she was softness, he was strength and hardness. She was fascinated.

  Cautiously, the tip of her pink tongue darted to his hard brown nub. When a sudden shudder rippled through Golden Eagle, Sarah pulled back, unsure of herself.

  “Don’t stop. Suckle and taste me as I have you. This warrior likes the feel of your lips upon his flesh.” Gently, Golden Eagle pulled Sarah back to his chest, his head thrown back, words of encouragement mingling with hoarse gasps of pleasure.

  Sarah resumed stroking his sensitive bud with the tip of her tongue, relishing the thought, the very idea, that she could be the cause of such tremors coursing through Golden Eagle. Moving to the other nipple, she took it fully in her mouth. As she suckled the tiny nugget, her hands roamed over his chest, shoulders, back before stroking and lowering to knead the sculptured flesh of his buttocks under the leather flap.