White Owl

by Veronica Blake

  The warmth of the morning sun heated her skin. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she blinked and angrily wiped them away before they had a chance to fall. The idea that she could leave here—leave him—was inconceivable. Her stomach twisted with the realization that she could not wait much longer to tell her family that she was in love with a Ute warrior. The opposing feelings of joy and terror made her knees so weak that she had to lean against the front porch rail for support.

  Since there was only one place that she could go to think when she was this upset, Rose headed for the barn. Being with Molly was always soothing. The interior of the barn was cool and dim. The smell of the hay and manure filled Rose with a sense of comfort and slightly eased her panic.

  She needed to see White Owl and tell him what her parents were suggesting. But unless she really did want to destroy all chances of ever keeping peace with her family, she could not leave here again today.

  Once Rose reached the stall where her little mare was munching on several strands of straw, she gave in to the despair that filled her heart. She sat on the stool in the corner of Molly’s stall and placed her head in her hands and let the agonizing sobs overtake her body. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had been happier than she had ever imagined being; she had fallen in love and become a woman in every sense. But now she felt as though her entire world was caving in around her.

  “White Owl,” she whispered through her tears. “I need you.” Molly whined softly, as if trying to comfort her, and Rose instinctively reached up to rub the mare’s nose. Molly snorted and whined again as Rose stood up and began to scratch behind her ears. “We have to go to him, Molly,” she whispered in the horse’s ear. “But we’ll wait until tonight after everyone is asleep.”

  Chapter Eleven

  White Owl could not help himself. It was the most foolish thing he had ever done—up to this point in his life, anyway. At least the stupid dog had stopped barking and growling after only a couple minutes. It hadn’t even barked long enough to alert the occupants in the house. Now the dog was glued to White Owl’s side as if they were old friends. Its tail wagged every time White Owl even glanced in his direction. He snickered and shook his head; he hoped the Adairs were not counting on this animal to alert them to intruders, or they would be in dire trouble.

  He forced himself to pat the head of the shaggy dog. “Good boy,” he said in an effort to remain in good standing so that the dog would not bark again once he left the shelter of the barn.

  The problem of the dog seemed to be resolved, so now White Owl just had to figure out how to get to his woman.

  Cautiously, he sneaked out of the empty horse stall where he had taken refuge until he was certain no one was going to come out of the house when the dog had first barked. The only light in the barn came from the faint silver shine of the moon through the partially open door.

  His plan was to sneak from window to window until he found her. He was desperate to know what had happened after she had returned home last night. There was little doubt in his mind that she would not be able to come to the racetrack for a while since she had gotten home so late. So he would have to go to her until they could be together all the time.

  But before he had even left the barn, the dog was distracted from his petting and turned to look toward the doorway. White Owl wasted no time ducking back into the empty stall. He crouched and waited to see what had drawn the dog’s attention. From his hiding spot, he could not see the barn door, but he could hear footsteps approaching. He braced himself against the wall behind the half door of the stall and waited. His right hand rested on the handle of the knife he wore on his hip. When he glimpsed the source of the noise, he slowly exhaled the breath he had been holding and rose from his hiding spot.

  Rose’s eyes widened at first and she threw her hand over her mouth as she gasped loudly. But almost immediately, she relaxed. “Oh, thank the Lord above, it’s you,” she said. A smile curved her lips as she stepped closer to him. “I was just planning to come to you,” she whispered. She looked up at him with expectation and relief.

  For an instant White Owl could only stare down at her. She constantly filled him with amazement. Even in the near darkness he could see the expression on her lovely young face; she truly seemed happy to see him here. He sighed as his worries about coming to her disappeared. He’d been worried that she might regret what had happened between them the day before. Or what if she had told her father and sent a hunting party after him? But now all of those fears were completely gone.

  “I was worried about you,” he said quietly. He yearned to touch her soft cheek; instead, he held his hands firmly at his sides. “What happened with your father last night when you got home?”

  Rose’s smile faded. “That’s what I was coming to see you about.”

  White Owl’s hands drew into fists. “What has happened?”

  She began to shake her head as she closed her eyes for a moment. “They want to send me to live with my aunt in Denver, but I won’t go . . . not now, not ever!”

  The meaning of her words hit White Owl hard. He could not imagine not seeing her again. “Because of me they are going to send you away?”

  “They don’t even know about you, not yet, anyway.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. His fist immediately uncurled and their fingers intertwined. “They say it’s for my safety because I insist on going for rides in spite of the danger.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “If they only knew how much danger I was really in,” she hinted suggestively.

  White Owl shook his head and smiled again, but he was still worried. “What if they make you go? I hated my time in the white man’s settlement called Denver, but I would go back there to be with you.”

  Wild Rose’s expression grew serious. “No, I will not leave here. I love this land, and I love you. Neither of us could be happy anyplace else.”

  As he shook his head again, White Owl began to realize that he was fighting a losing battle. The determined look on her face made her position clear.

  “You must quit riding over to the racetrack then, at least until we can figure out how to tell them. The time is bad because of the relations at the agency. I will talk to our chiefs and try to find out what is happening between our people and the whites. Until then, I will come here to see you.”

  He took hold of her other hand and pulled both hands up to his lips and kissed them each gently. She smiled again and sighed softly.

  “Will you come every night?” she asked.

  His kisses moved to the inside of her wrist. “As long as you want me to come,” he whispered.

  “For the rest of my life,” she replied as she stretched her arm out so that he could kiss all the way up to where the sleeve of her calico dress stopped above her elbow.

  “Woman,” he sighed. “You know this—us—might not end well.” He placed her limp arm on his shoulder, and she wrapped her hand around the back of his head. Her fingers dug into his thick hair.

  “No, don’t say things like that,” she said in a defensive tone. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I refuse to believe we can’t have a happy life together just because we have different colors of skin.”

  White Owl knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist her for much longer. There were so many reasons that he shouldn’t be here—and she had just pointed out the most obvious—but there was something so much stronger ruling his actions now. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the ladder that led up to the loft. It was only a few feet, but she molded herself against him and began to kiss the side of his neck with soft kisses. His knees were shaking by the time they reached the ladder.

  He stood her on the second rung, and she turned back around and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She was slightly taller than him while she was standing on the ladder, so she took the initiative and let her lips cover his mouth with a hungry kiss that took his breath away as her fingers raked through his hair again. He pulled her against him, nea
rly taking her off the ladder before they finally parted. It took him a moment to breathe, and he could tell she was having an equally hard time regaining enough composure to turn away from him and climb the rest of the way up to the loft. He followed closely behind, thinking only briefly of the dire consequences if they were discovered here together.

  The loft was completely dark as they scooted to the back corner. White Owl was surprised to discover that a mattress awaited them. “Did you put this here for one of your other suitors?” he asked with a chuckle.

  Rose huffed indignantly and didn’t respond to his insinuation. “This is my little brother’s hideout. But starting tonight it will be our hideout.”

  White Owl reached out in the blackness until he had her in his arms again. He had never known a woman so willing, and her optimism and passion made his heart feel as though it was going to burst out of his chest. Obviously, her introduction to lovemaking had been more than satisfactory, because she was more than eager to repeat the act now.

  Wild Rose slid into his arms without further invitation. Their kisses were more urgent now as they fumbled to remove their clothes. Unlike yesterday, there was not a moment of trepidation.

  Wild Rose leaned back as White Owl carefully pressed her down into the mattress. He heard her take a trembling breath as he worked his hips in between her parted thighs. As he entered her, he felt her body tense as if she expected to feel pain again, but instantly, she began to relax. Her hips arched up to meet his movements, and her fingers dug into the skin on his back as their passion grew in intensity. At last they clung together, breathless, satisfied, yet wanting—needing—more.

  The threat of morning sun arriving soon signaled the end of the most erotic experience White Owl had ever known. They had been like ravenous animals whose hunger had been unquenchable. He felt like a man possessed as he had made love to his Wild Rose over and over again. To his amazement, her enthusiasm had equaled or even exceeded his at times, and he had never known a passion that even began to compare to this night.

  “You promise?” Rose asked.

  He chuckled. “I promise,” White Owl answered as he lifted her down from the ladder.

  The early rays of the sun would be peeking over the eastern horizon at any moment. They had lingered far too long in each other’s arms because they had not wanted this night to ever fade into day.

  “You must hurry back now,” he added, sounding regretful.

  A pained expression contorted Rose’s face. “I don’t think I can hurry anywhere today.” She glanced at White Owl as a fire began to burn in her cheeks. Her entire body felt worn out, and she was sore in places that she didn’t know could be sore. The fact that they had not slept one minute all night long was beginning to take its toll on her weary mind, too. She yawned and frowned when he laughed.

  “Are you sure you want me to come back tonight?” he teased. “Maybe I should let you rest for a day or two.”

  Rose tossed her tangled hair back over her shoulder. Her lower lip protruded like a spoiled child’s. “You promised.”

  White Owl shook his head in defeat. “You are a demanding woman. But I can’t deny you anything.” He kissed her forehead and then twirled her around toward the barn door and gave her a gentle shove. “Now, hurry before your father wakes up.”

  Rose sighed and glanced back over her shoulder, “You will be here tonight.” It was a command.

  “Do you want your father to shoot me?” White Owl motioned with a wave of his hand toward the door. She gave a resigned nod and started slowly toward the exit. As she reached the threshold, she looked back again.

  “I promise,” White Owl repeated.

  Leaving proved to be more difficult than Rose had imagined. What if something prevented him from coming back tonight? After the night they had just spent together, she was not sure she could survive another night unless she was in his arms.

  A loud bark caused Rose to stumble to a halt. She twirled around at the sound of the family dog’s sudden outburst.

  “Pepper!” she called out through gritted teeth. “Be quiet!”

  The black dog stood outside the barn door and stared inside. Rose shook her head in aggravation. Donavan’s dog barked at anything that moved and was pretty worthless as a watchdog, because sometimes he didn’t bark at all when he should. Earlier this year, they had coyotes sneak into the henhouse and kill half the flock and eat all the eggs. Pepper slept through the entire incident. Now, he glanced back at her, and then turned back toward the interior of the barn and growled.

  “Pepper, come!” Rose commanded.

  The dog turned toward her again and acted uncertain for a moment before his tail began to wave back and forth. He ran toward Rose as if he had forgotten all about whatever it was that held his attention in the barn just an instant earlier.

  She kneeled down and grabbed the dog by the long black fur around his neck so that he couldn’t get away as she stared at the barn. She was certain White Owl had already left through the back door, and now the building contained only the unbelievably passionate memories of the night they had shared in the loft.

  As she slowly made her way back into the quiet house, she could not wipe the smile off her face. Luckily, there was no one awake yet, and she continued to smile all the way in to her bedroom. It would be a long day, and she hoped tonight would be even longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I am worried, my son.”

  “You do not need to be,” White Owl said. He looked away from his father as he led his horse from the corral.

  Beside Strong Elk stood White Owl’s brother, Two Feathers. A lopsided grin curled his mouth. “My brother has become an enemy lover,” he said.

  White Owl twirled around. He was a couple inches taller than Two Feathers, but the younger man stood up as straight as possible so that they were almost eye-to-eye. “She is not my enemy!” White Owl spat. He took a step toward his brother. “But you—”

  Strong Elk stepped in between his sons. “Stop!” His gaze moved first to White Owl, then to Two Feathers. “My sons will not fight because of a woman, no matter who it is.”

  For a moment the three men remained unmoving, until White Owl broke the uneasy confrontation. “You are right, my father. There will be no fighting. This woman is going to be with me forever.” He glanced at his brother, adding, “So everyone else will have to accept it.”

  Two Feathers narrowed his eyes and refused to back down until Strong Elk turned to confront him. “White Owl has a right to love whomever he wants, and you, as his brother, must not question this.”

  With an angry grunt, Two Feathers took a step backward. “But you just said you were worried?”

  Strong Elk relaxed his terse stance slightly. “Yes, I am worried for my son’s safety, not who he chooses to love.”

  “We will all pay the price if someone at the agency hears about them,” Two Feathers retorted. His flashing dark eyes focused on his older brother once again.

  “No one will find out until we are ready for them to know,” White Owl answered, more to his father than to his brother.

  Strong Elk shook his head and sighed. “You have been going to this woman every night. Surely her family must notice that she is gone, too? Or are you foolish enough to enter her home while the others are sleeping there?”

  “No, where we meet it is safe, and she does not come to me until everyone is asleep.” White Owl was beginning to feel like a child who was getting scolded for something he knew he shouldn’t be doing.

  A worried frown tugged at Strong Elk’s mouth. “There will come a time when someone will know. What if she carries your child? How will the two of you hide that?”

  White Owl had thought of this possibility a couple of times in the past few weeks, but he had been too overcome with desire to let it deter him.

  “White women are not like Ute women,” Strong Elk continued. “Our women do not produce easily, but whites are fertile and already this woman could carry your seed in he
r.”

  White Owl had to exhale the breath that was lodged in his throat. He knew that what his father said was true. Ute women rarely had more than one or two children, and many of them never bore children at all. Most white women, however, seemed to have been blessed with the ability to bear hordes of children during their lifetimes. His father could be right . . . it might have happened already. For the past few weeks, they had spent nearly every night exploring and learning more sensuous ways to pleasure each other than he had ever imagined possible. And he was also discovering how much he loved her in every other way.

  She was obviously passionate and anxious to learn every way to please him, but they had also spent much time talking and finding out each other’s deepest thoughts.

  White Owl was amazed many times over by how she loved this great land as much as his own people did, and she honestly felt that the white men were wrong to try to take it away from the Utes. Her compassion for the plight of his people endeared her to him even more. Every time they were together, he found something else about her that made his love for her expand. A child born of their love would bring him more happiness than he could even begin to envision. But it would also mean making their love known to everyone.

  With a hard swallow, White Owl turned away from his father and brother and pulled himself up to Niwaa’s bare back. “We will face whatever comes.” His voice was firm, but inside he was tormented by thoughts of what the future might bring for him and his Wild Rose.

  Two Feathers did not bother to respond. He threw his hands in the air and stalked away.

  Strong Elk looked up and met his son’s worried gaze. “This woman, this . . . ?”

  “Wild Rose,” White Owl answered.

  “Wild Rose,” Strong Elk repeated. “She must be special.”

  As he slowly nodded, White Owl looked off in the distance. “She is, Father. She is.”

  He nudged Niwaa forward without waiting for a response. He needed to be with Wild Rose as soon as possible, and the sun was already growing low in the western sky. It would be dark by the time he crossed Milk Creek.