by Karen Kay
Funny, she had been led to believe—from pictures she had seen—that Indians wore shorter breechcloths. This man’s cloth was long in front and back, almost to his ankles. He wore a belt of cartridges round his waist and on the right side of that belt hung a stunningly beaded, blue and white and silver buckskin sheath; his knife, she assumed, encased in it.
His back, what little she could see of it, was broad, muscular and bare. Around one arm he wore a beaded armband, and around the other, one of silver.
Also, he wore weapons of necessity: the quiver full of arrows lashed across his back, his bow in a ready position over his shoulder. And in his left hand he carried his sawed-off shotgun.
His feet, she had noted on numerous occasions, were encased in a sturdy pair of undecorated moccasins, obviously handmade—perhaps by his own hand.
It occurred to her that up until now, she had not bothered to study the man and she wondered how she could have missed this spectacle.
It would be so easy to undress him, she mused, at once shaming herself with the direction of her thoughts.
But truly, it would be so simple. A tug on that piece of buckskin between his legs would do much toward assuaging her curiosity.
And she knew how he would look.
She moaned. Enough was enough! She had to stop this constant speculation.
She forced herself to look away from him, not realizing until too late that in that small amount of time, he had doubled back toward her.
She literally bumped into him.
But he grabbed hold of her and settled her, one of his hands smoothing back a lock of her hair at the same time. He said, placing that wayward strand behind her ears, “You are lagging too far behind the others, and I fear I cannot protect you properly if the need arises.” He let the rest of her hair fall over her breast and sent a quick glance to Patty, who had fallen asleep in Anna’s arms. “I think,” he continued, “that one of the ponies can carry another small load. Would you like to try it?” He motioned toward Patty. “With the child?”
His touch on her, no matter how light, was causing Anna’s body to come alive, and she was having some difficulty coping with the sensations while carrying on a conversation with him at the same time. Especially when her body was practically screaming at her with the need to be held. But she could not very well tell War Cloud that.
She commented, “It is kind of you to think of it. Do you really believe the ponies could handle the load?”
“I think we should try it,” he responded. “Otherwise I will have to slow our pace and we will not reach a good camping spot before morning.” He brought his hand down to draw his fingers through Patty’s hair before saying, “She is a very small girl. I think the pony will be able to take on her load. Come, let us see. Follow me.”
And with that, he turned away, not looking back, clearly expecting her to follow him.
Of course, she did.
As they approached the pony, he swung around toward her and drew Patty from Anna’s arms, and as he did so, his hand accidentally brushed her breast. At once, Anna’s senses responded to him, sending a rush of longing through her that was all out of proportion to such a simple gesture.
Oddly, the sensations seemed to center in the middle of her body and, after a while, she felt a very personal, very feminine part of her grow moist.
She tried her best to ignore the newness of these sensations, as well as the yearning for something she did not fully understand. She stepped back, letting him take Patty into his arms.
Anna paced around toward the pony’s head and petted its nose, speaking to it in muted tones, all the while watching War Cloud as he lifted Patty onto its back. With the youngster settled, War Cloud took a step toward her, giving the reins of the animal to her. As he did so, his fingers lingered over Anna’s.
At the contact, her pulse leapt and she cast a hasty glance at him, only to find him looking at her expectantly.
But, if he noticed anything unusual, he made no comment and he said, “You lead the animal and stay close to me and the others.”
She nodded, gazing back at him and watching with fascination as moonlight bathed his features in the depths and shadows of misty light. Had he ever looked this handsome?
She murmured, “I will.”
“I know,” he said, while he reached out a hand to run his fingers over her cheek. And then dimly, as though he did not want anyone else to hear, he whispered, “I do not want to lose you.”
With those words, raw yearning swept through her, making her senses surge until Anna felt weak with it. They were words, mere expressions, but for Anna, War Cloud might as well have declared his undying love for her, so intense was her response.
She could not speak for a moment and she looked away from him before saying, “I will stay close. I give you my oath.”
And when he answered, “I will hold you to that,” she chanced a look up at him, catching an answering glint of hunger in his eye. Did his words hold a deeper meaning? Was he awaiting the evening with as much anticipation as she?
Anything could happen, she realized, for it was her intention to marry this man despite his own sentiments on the subject.
No matter, she would keep her part of the bargain; she would do what she must to save her children.
She watched him as he spun around and walked away from her, realizing as she did so that she had never been more aware of another human being in her life.
Alas, she could not wait until they pitched camp.
She awoke to find him beside her, his back to her.
As was becoming customary, she had fallen asleep from exhaustion as soon as they had pitched camp. Every muscle in her legs, as well as her back ached. She wanted—no, she needed—to stretch. Still, she hated to move lest she disturb War Cloud. She suppressed the urge.
The scent of evening came to her on the wind, all mixed up with the odor of the grasses, wildflowers and dirt, and she closed her eyes to commit the smell to mind. She would remember it always, for it would remind her of War Cloud, even if the time came that he was no longer a part of her life.
But he was here with her now, and how she did long to reach out and touch him; how she wished she had the courage to do it. He was so close, yet a world away.
She watched his shoulders move up and down as he breathed silently in and out. It was the barest of movements, and yet, to be this close to him, to be able to touch him and feel his breath if she wanted to, was an intimacy she had never before experienced. And she so desperately wanted to experience even more.
There it was, clearly expressed, she thought, at least to herself. She wanted this man. If she were to be completely truthful, she would admit that his declaration to make her his had stimulated her beyond thought.
Secretly she admitted, she wanted this tryst, marriage or no. It was a hard thing to learn about herself. No matter how strict her upbringing, no matter how moral her character in the past, she was afraid she might be willing to risk it all.
After all, he might not marry her; he surely gave her to understand that he would not.
And would it make a difference to her? Morally, yes, it would, at least it should. But on the other hand, she was uncertain it would be such a bad thing if, after they committed the deed, they went their separate ways.
Goodness! She brought her thoughts up short. How could she have ever entertained such an idea? Oh, the scandal.
She must think of something else—quickly. She could not afford to nurture the thought of anything else except marriage to this man.
As distraction, she glanced once more at the broad back of her protector.
What would it be like, she wondered, to be loved? Would it be as exciting as it had been this morning? Would she lose herself so thoroughly to it that he became the center of her universe?
This morning had not been a bad feeling—not at all.
The odd thing was that, without the deed even being accomplished, she already felt more alive. As she drew in a
breath, she realized that never before had she been so refreshed by the simple act of breathing in the clean fragrance of the grasses and wildflowers. Never could she remember the common squawk of the nighthawks and blackbirds invigorating her. Never had the wind and the rain so touched her soul. Even the sight of the tall sunflower stalks as they stretched up toward a midnight sky thrilled her as it never had previously. Would these things be even more intense after she had shared a night with War Cloud?
She pressed her lips together and despaired. She feared she could hardly wait to discover it.
And, the dear Lord help her, the fact that War Cloud did not want a permanent relationship did not seem to daunt her. Though she would be hard-pressed ever to admit it, she was aware that, while she might insist on marriage, deep within her, she had known that she might never be able to commit herself fully to this man. Not body and soul. They lived in worlds too far apart.
Though she had been truthful when she said that she would be willing to marry him, even then she had known that she would always hold a part of herself separate.
She only feared what this might mean about herself.
She grimaced as a muscle twitched in her back, but at least it brought her to the present. She really needed to move and stretch the kinks out of her body, and despite her reluctance to disturb War Cloud, she was going to have to act. Silently she drew her arms over her head and strained.
Although she thought she had twisted soundlessly, War Cloud looked over his shoulder, his dark eyes seeking out her own.
He said, “I am glad you are awake. I fear we need to talk.” Thus, having spoken, he turned his head away from her and said no more.
She scooted onto her side. His back was to her, and she wished she had the nerve to reach out and touch him, perhaps to force him to acknowledge her.
But she still did not possess the courage.
She watched him instead. She knew he had to be as exhausted as she was and she wished to comfort him, at least a little. But she feared even bringing up the subject of marriage. Would she again receive the same lecture?
After a while, however, when he did not speak, she said, “Tell me what is on your mind.”
She was close enough to him that she could feel the heat of his body, and it made her want to curl up to him.
But she did not. She watched him instead, observing that he twisted his head to the left before he spoke to her. It was the only sign he made that gave her an indication that he was not as comfortable with her as he might like her to suppose.
He began, “I have been thinking.”
“Yes?”
“I have decided that we will not commit the marriage act after all.”
“We won’t?” She wondered it she sounded as disappointed as she felt. Perhaps she did, for he turned his head and eyed her, scanning her swiftly.
However, presenting his back to her once again, he uttered, “Had I not thought that you had already offered yourself to me, I would not have told you the things I did about myself and you would not have this problem.”
“But,” she said, “if I had not come to you with the bargain, you would not have agreed to take the children and me to a white camp, isn’t that right?”
A growl sounded in his throat.
“And that is the important thing that we must not lose sight of—the children.”
He said, “I will take you to a white camp, as I have promised, without your having to give yourself to me. The problem is mine. I will handle it in my own way.”
“I beg to differ.”
He shot a glance at her over his shoulder.
“Are you now telling me that there is no danger for me and the children within the Dog Soldier camp?”
“Saaaa, there is great danger.”
“Then I don’t see how this does not affect me. Know that I will do this thing with you in order that the children are safe. I will also keep my end of the bargain. Do you think I am so dishonest that I would go back on my word?”
“But you did not know.” He moved his shoulders up and down. “You thought marriage would be your sacrifice, not a moment of passion that would leave you with no man to protect you and any children that might come about from our union.”
Children? She hadn’t thought of that. An unexpected warmth rushed in upon her, causing her a moment’s hesitation.
But she could ill afford to spend more than an instant in contemplation of it, and so she said, “It’s doubtful that I would become laden in that way if we only did it…that is to say, if we only committed the act once…”
War Cloud turned his head toward her, a frown pulling at his features as he said, “It is not so unlikely.”
But she took no notice of him and went on to say, “I don’t think you should worry about that. After all, the thought of having a child is not an unhappy one. Know that I would never put a child of mine out on the streets. Somehow I would manage.”
That this statement took him by surprise was evident. He swung his body around to face her, his countenance clearly puzzled. He said, “You would do this?”
“Yes,” she answered at once.
“But you would have no husband, for I could not be that to you.”
She shrugged as if it were nothing. “I would make do. I always have.”
“If this be true,” he countered, turning almost all the way around toward her, “then why do you not take all of these children as your own?”
“Because,” she said without hesitation, “I could not afford to keep them.”
He shrugged. “You could take one or two.”
“No, I could not.” She sighed. “I have given my word to the society that I will see these children safely placed in Christian homes—with a mother and a father. They need both. I could not provide that for them.”
He nodded, as though in perfect understanding. At length, however, his look grew more serious as he said, “I would not want a child of mine growing up without knowing me.”
“Nor would I.”
“If there were a child from our union, it would stay with me.”
“I could not allow that.”
“Humph!” he grunted. “We bicker for nothing, I think. We have not done the deed, nor are you with child.”
She smiled slightly and said, “That’s true,” grimacing as her dry lips cracked with the movement. Involuntarily she licked them.
His eyes homed in on the movement. After a brief pause, he asked, “You would willingly do this with me?”
She hesitated. Dare she tell him the truth? Perhaps not all of it. She could relate some of her thoughts, those that would not mark her as an easy woman. She said, “Yes, I believe that I would. You see, I would do most anything to ensure the safety of the children, and if this…this physical thing is a problem for you, I would ease your…mind—and mine.”
He groaned. What had she said? She sent him a quick glance.
And her stomach suddenly jumped into her gullet. Dear Lord, passion fairly emanated from this man’s eyes.
She cleared her throat self-consciously and said, “But you would have to show me how to do it, for I do not know what to do.”
He nodded. “I could do this, if you wish it.” He stretched out a finger to tilt her face up toward his. His dark eyes stared into hers. “Tell me the truth that is in your heart,” he murmured, “for if you do this out of fear, I will satisfy my needs elsewhere.”
Once more she swept her tongue over her lips, the action again gaining his attention. And as he stared at her lips, she felt herself tingling under the intensity of his gaze. She shut her eyes and breathed in deeply before she said, at last, “But if you sought out someone else, would that not throw doubt onto our union?”
He shrugged. “I would make excuses.”
She blinked her eyes open and asked, “Would your reasons be believed?”
Again, he lifted his shoulders.
“It would be a chance, wouldn’t it?” she asked. “Whereas, if we did this, it w
ould be easier?”
He made no response.
And she reiterated, after a while, “I will do this thing with you, War Cloud.”
He gave her a quick nod and said, “Then I think we should seek somewhere more private, that we do not disturb the children.”
Suddenly Anna could not speak. She nodded.
He made an outward gesture. “Do you see that tree by the stream?”
“Yes,” she said, realizing he pointed to a willow that skirted the water.
He continued, “You prepare yourself and I will meet you there when the evening turns to complete darkness.” And with no more than these few words said between them, he came up onto his feet.
“Where do you go?” she asked, wanting to reach out and detain him, to ask him what she should prepare for.
But she did not know how to ask. All she could do at the moment was stare up at him.
Her gaze came to his waist, moved lower as she looked for a sign that he still wanted her. She could only hope that he did.
But he turned his back on her, blocking her view, and said, “I must scout out the land and ensure that we are safe. I would not be surprised by an enemy.”
“Oh.” Her lips rounded on the word.
And he left the camp posthaste. As he walked away, she watched him until she could no longer see his image. Was it her imagination, she wondered, or did his step seem a little lighter?
Had she perhaps set his mind at ease? At least a little?
She hoped so. She would not have this act of love be for nothing.
Chapter Seventeen
She bathed. It was the only thing she could think of to do to “prepare herself.” Because she had washed most of her garments as well as herself, when she stood next to the willow tree, awaiting War Cloud’s arrival, she was clothed in her chemise alone.
She shivered. The undergarment was too thin to give her much protection against the elements, and now and again the breeze touched her in all the wrong places. As a result, goose bumps spread over her arms and legs and she trembled.
Yet, she did not leave. She stood waiting…and waiting, no matter that she felt more than a little foolish for doing so.