Brazen Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  “Perhaps she has been confused since awakening, but when she sees me, she will remember,” Gray Eagle confidently declared, then asked to be taken to her.

  When the two men and woman entered the tepee, Shalee glanced up. Confusion clouded her green eyes as the stranger rushed forward and embraced her, then devastatingly kissed her upon the lips! She instinctively jerked away from him. How dare this man treat her in such a manner! She stared at the handsome creature with bronze skin and sparkling jet eyes. No recognition of him could be noted in her face. He smiled and caressed her cheek. She slapped his hand away and withdrew from his disturbing nearness.

  Bewildered, he murmured, “Shalee? Waste cedake.”

  She stared at him. He had called her that same name, but his tone was tender and mellow! Who was this man? Why did he treat her this way? She instantly demanded, “Who are you? Why did you kiss me? Where is Uncle Thad? Where am I?” she frantically added, panic exposed in her naked gaze and quavering tone.

  Gray Eagle stared at her. She was looking at him as if he were some stranger! He touched the bandage upon her head and asked if the wound hurt. He spoke in Sioux, and naturally she did not understand.

  “Why do you call me Shalee? They also called me by that name,” she remarked curiously, nodding to Brave Bear and Chela. “Who is this girl you mistake me for? I am Alisha Williams. Where is my uncle?” Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. As one slipped down her pale cheek, he brushed it away. She retreated from his touch.

  “I am Gray Eagle; you are Shalee,” the warrior stated in English.

  Her gaze widened. She sighed in relief; this man could speak English. Now, perhaps she could get some answers to her many questions. “Gray Eagle, where am I? What happened to me, to my wagon train? The others couldn’t speak English; they could tell me nothing.”

  Again, the warrior stared at her. “You do not know me?” he asked incredulously.

  Eyeing him closely, she shook her head. “Surely I would recall if we had met before,” she reasoned aloud, sensing some mysterious distress in him. “Where are my uncle and the others? Was there some accident I do not recall?” she asked in dread, compelled to hear his explanation.

  “You fell into the river; it carried you here,” he replied.

  She pondered that news, then asked, “Where am I? Why isn’t Uncle Thad here? Why do you behave as if I should know you?” she pressed, intrigued. Something imperceptible told her he was serious and honest.

  “I am your husband,” he calmly replied, watching the effect of that declaration upon his wife.

  “My… husband?” she echoed. “That’s absurd! I’m not married. I’ve never laid eyes on you before today,” she argued, alarmed by his grave look.

  Alerted to the extent of her injury, he softly stated, “You are Shalee, my wife of five winters, five of the white man’s years,” he clarified.

  “Five years? Your wife?” she repeated. She searched his face; nothing. “How can I be your wife when we’ve never met before?”

  “We met at your uncle’s fortress five winters past. We loved and joined. We have a son, Bright Arrow, four winters old.” He added a new fact, hoping it would spark a memory in her rebellious mind.

  “A son? I have no children! We’re strangers! Why do you say such things? I wish to return to Uncle Thad. Take me to him right now!”

  “The white man you called Uncle Thad has been dead for many winters. Why have you forgotten such things? Did the injury by the Bluecoats do this?”

  “Bluecoats? I do not understand. I saw Uncle Thad only a few days ago. Why did you say he has been dead for years?” she demanded, fear racing through her heart and panic through her mind. What were these Indians doing to her? Why did they tell her such vicious lies?

  “The Bluecoats stole our son and wounded you. You fell into the river and were brought here. I searched for you many days, but could not find you. I feared you dead until Brave Bear sent word to me you lived. He said you spoke and acted strangely. Now, I see the meaning of his words.”

  Her gaze shifted to the other Indian who must be Brave Bear, then back to the one who had identified himself as Gray Eagle. “You must mistake me for someone else. I am not your Shalee; I am Alisha Williams.”

  “Shalee is the Indian name we gave you when you came to live with us. You married me five winters ago; we have a son. Do not resist the return of such beautiful memories, Grass Eyes. I love you and need you. My heart lost all hope and joy when I feared you dead.”

  His strange words disturbed and dismayed her. Why did he persist in his error? Yet, his eyes pleaded for her to agree; she could not. How could she be married to this man and not recall him? A son? Impossible! Yet he was serious! Was she dreaming or still delirious?

  “How can I be your wife, this Shalee, when I do not know you?” she reasoned.

  “The blow to your head has taken such thoughts from your mind. I speak the truth, Shalee,” he vowed earnestly.

  “How can such things be? I do not know you,” she stressed, becoming highly agitated as he persisted with his unbelievable tales.

  “When the wound heals and you return to your people, you will remember,” he confidently stated. “Do not unsettle yourself. You are still weak and ill.”

  “Return to my people? You said Uncle Thad was dead.” She seized what she believed was a slip of his tongue.

  “Your people are my people, the Oglala. We will return to my camp. When you see our son, your mind will clear.”

  “I’m not leaving here with you! I want to go home,” she panted.

  “My camp is your home, Shalee,” he stated, near exasperation.

  “No! You’re lying! Why are you doing this to me?” she wailed.

  “You are my wife, the mother of our son. Soon, you will recall such things.”

  “This Brave Bear sent for you?” she questioned. He nodded. “If all you say is true and I am your wife, why did the woman Chela treat me so cruelly?” she unwittingly demanded, assuming this revelation would halt their malicious game.

  Gray Eagle turned and glared at Chela. He demanded an explanation of Shalee’s claims. Chela paled, then flushed in guilt. Shalee watched this interaction with rising curiosity. Both men verbally assailed the trembling female. Shalee wished she could understand what was going on.

  The handsome Indian turned to face her. “Chela reacted from jealousy. Before we joined and Chela joined him, you were promised to Brave Bear; she feared he was desiring you once more.”

  Startled by this explanation, Shalee stared at each person in turn. “How can such things be true? I am a stranger here! Are you an Indian?” she abruptly questioned, astonishing him.

  “I am Oglala, but the white man calls us Sioux. You came to my lands many winters ago. We loved the first moment our eyes touched. You are my wife. Can you deny your own son?” he reached for one ray of hope.

  “I have no son! How can I have a son when I’m not married!”

  Gray Eagle reached for her hand, but she jerked it away. “Shalee…how can I reach you when you reject my words and love? We must go home. Our son needs his mother. Many nights he has cried himself to sleep fearing you are dead. Does his pain mean nothing to you?”

  “But I’m not his mother. Can’t you understand, Gray Eagle? You have me confused with another woman. Perhaps you are blinded by grief over her loss. I’m sorry, I’m not your Shalee!” she frantically shouted at him.

  “For five winters you have lived as Shalee. You bore our son. Even if the thoughts are gone from your mind, the reality has not fled. When you look into his face, the truth will shine clear.”

  “What is your son’s name?” she unexpectedly asked.

  “Our son’s name is Bright Arrow,” he replied.

  She mulled the name over in her mind as she observed the warrior before her. “How can a woman bear a son and not remember him? How could I live as your wife for five years and not know you? It cannot be.”

  Was the Great Spirit punishing
him for his betrayal of her love, of himself? She was like a stranger to him, the irresistible stranger he had first met many winters ago! “Tell me, Shalee, what is your last thought?” His scowl was replaced by a grin.

  “I don’t understand.” She expressed her confusion.

  “What is the last thing you recall?” He clarified his meaning.

  “We were on the trail, heading west. We were camped for the night, just past a settlement called St. Louis. Why?” she inquisitively probed. Who was this earthly god whose looks rivaled those of the mythical Adonis? How could a total stranger stir such unknown feelings within her? A quiver of uncertainty raced over her.

  “You do not remember coming here and building a great wooden fortress with your people? You do not remember our happy life together? How? Why?” he sadly inquired, frowning slightly.

  “We haven’t arrived at our destination yet. We still have many weeks to travel. Now that spring’s arrived, we should end our journey soon,” she panted, alarm and suspicion mounting gradually. Why was she even bothering to banter with this vital and distressing creature?

  “It is winter, Shalee. Your people came many springs ago. By the white man’s counting, this will be the spring of 1782. We mated many winters ago. I swear upon my life and honor you are my wife and I love you,” he vowed, torn between joy and pain.

  She swayed and paled. “That’s impossible! This is 1776!”

  “By your time, we were joined in 1777; our son was born in 1778. I beg you to call your memory home. We have mourned you for dead. My heart has never endured such pain and emptiness. I need you, Shalee.” She shot him a skeptical look.

  “Surely you don’t expect me to believe I have forgotten five or six years!” she exclaimed in rising alarm, petrified by his confident and gentle aura. What vicious and intoxicating game was the bronze creature playing? Why? If all was lost to her, could she go along with it?

  “It is true, Little One,” he replied as calmly as he could, his arresting expression tender and sincere. “I love you and rejoice at your return to me.” He flashed her an engaging grin.

  “I don’t believe you; I can’t,” she whispered, quivering noticeably.

  “I can prove my words if you allow it,” he entreatingly offered.

  Weakened in body and dazed in mind, Shalee fainted.

  Chapter Six

  After Shalee revived, the distressing and mindstaggering debate continued for hours, with Shalee resisting the claims of the handsome warrior who towered over her, who vowed such strange and terrifying facts and feelings. The many days of torment and loneliness had taken an awesome toll upon Gray Eagle, and then to recover his precious love only to discover that she defied his words and emotions—all this played havoc with his patience and understanding. Even if she could not recall such things at present, soon she would! He spoke the truth with clarity and logic. Why did she insist he did not? What was behind the fear that glittered in her lucid eyes?

  He talked, reasoned, and chided until his frustration and anguish could take no more. “I do not understand you, Shalee! Never have you behaved this cruel way before!” he suddenly exploded, his nerves taut and at his wit’s end.

  “Cruel way!” she shouted back at him. “I lie here ill to the point of death from an accident I cannot recall, then you smugly swagger in and casually declare I’m your lost wife when we’re total strangers! You actually claim this impossible marriage has lasted for five years and we have a son! You say I’ve lived in an Indian village for nearly six years! You say my uncle and people are dead! You boast of fierce war against other whites! You shout of love for me! All lies! A little bump upon my head couldn’t drive so many things from my mind! Perhaps a few days or weeks, but five to six years? It cannot be true!”

  “I do not understand such things either, but I speak the truth! Why would I speak of such matters and feelings if we were truly strangers? Do you not question why Brave Bear and Chela knew your face and name? Do you not question the passage of many moons upon your body? Would you accept my words if I can tell you every mark upon it?” He abruptly seized a point of proof.

  She paled, then flushed a deep scarlet. She demurely stammered, “That… would be simple…since… I’ve been unconscious and… at your mercy for… I don’t recall how long!” she finished in a huff.

  Taken back at her stinging insinuation, he angrily stormed, “I arrived this very sun! Your charges and insults are painful to me!” He promptly tempered his fury with tenderness, noting the undesirable effect of his outburst. “Do you care nothing for the suffering I have also endured?”

  “They could have told you such things! I have only your word you have not taken advantage of my illness,” she debated his logic.

  “Before the evil firestick of the Bluecoats crashed into your head and drove our love from it, you would not have questioned my word or my honor. Such a painful loss does not change the truth. How can I help you when you turn your heart and mind against me? Look at me, Shalee. Our love was strong and beautiful; how can you forget such feelings? Why do you hurt me this way? Have I not suffered enough thinking you dead for many moons?”

  Her gaze met his, then obediently traveled his striking face and virile frame several times. If there was some inexplicable barrier before her mind, she honestly struggled to vanquish it. Who was this magnificent creature who spoke such imploring and disquieting words, whose entrancing eyes pleaded for her agreement? What if he was telling the truth? What if he was her husband and they had a small son? What if five years of her life were missing? What if she did have a husband and a son… that would mean they had… he had…

  She blushed, then paled and shuddered as if suddenly very cold. A trembling hand lifted quivering fingers to stroke her lower lip as she continued her futile scrutiny of the beguiling man before her troubled line of vision. Her hand balled into a tight fist, the nails driving painfully and unnoticeably into her palm. Her chin quivered; her eyes darted about in rising dismay. Her respiration quickened as her shrewd mind deliberated this situation. What if he is telling the truth? the portentous words screamed across her warring mind. “I… don’t… remember you,” she finally confessed, unable to call him a liar as he gazed so tenderly into her frightened features. “I don’t remember you,” she whispered raggedly, tears flowing down her cheeks. “How can I instantly accept a man and a life I cannot recall simply because you vow they are facts? For all I know, this could be some monstrous charade and you my worst enemy.”

  The awesome reality of their dilemma struck him as lightning hurling into a sturdy oak tree. It was agonizingly clear she honestly didn’t know him or recall the past winters and the love they had shared! He pulled her into his powerful embrace and promised, “Do not worry, Grass Eyes. When you are well, the darkness will leave your mind.”

  For an instant in her great distress, she submitted to his comforting arms and words. As he placed numerous kisses over her face, terror filled her. She jerked away from him and shrieked, “Don’t touch me! I don’t believe you! I’ve never seen you before in my life!”

  Stunned by the vehemence in her tone and the coolness in her wide eyes, he gaped openly at his wife. “I don’t know what evil trick you’re trying to pull, but it won’t work. I’m not crazy! Let me go home, please,” she begged earnestly. “My uncle will reward you if you take me back to him,” she optimistically coaxed.

  “He is dead! All at your fortress were slain during a battle! I rescued you and married you. From your people, only you and the scout Kenny live,” he stressed, bringing a new fact to life.

  “Joe Kenny? Where is he? Take me to him,” she quickly demanded, sidetracking him with a suspenseful command.

  Stunned, he shook his head and sighed loudly. “Kenny left many winters ago. He lives in a wooden tepee many, many moons from here. He took Mary O’Hara to wife. Do you recall nothing of such times?” he quizzed, dreading her next words.

  “How would you know Mary’s name? How could Joe marry a child?”
she challenged, recalling the girl of fifteen she had briefly met in St. Louis not long ago. True, Mary and Joe were friends, but married? Impossible!

  “The white girl was young many winters ago, Shalee. Koda Kenny told us of their joining when he came to our camp long ago.”

  “Koda?” She repeated the strange word.

  “It means friend. Kenny and Gray Eagle were kodas long before your moving tepees came to my lands. You have also forgotten you speak my tongue as I speak yours.” He dropped another mysterious clue.

  “How can I when I didn’t understand anything they said to me?” she disagreed.

  “I taught you my words during these winters you have forgotten,” he calmly replied, smiling with newly gained patience. Surely the loss of so many thoughts was distressing and frightening. He must be firm but gentle with his woman until they returned to her. “I will teach you my words again,” he stated, a beguiling smile tugging at his lips and softening his eyes.

  “If what you say is true,” she slightly relented, “what happens if I never remember these past five years?”

  His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed in deep thought. Hearty laughter then spilled forth as he nonchalantly declared, “Then we will make new memories. I will teach you such things again.”

  “But if we’re… married, how can I… live with a stranger?”

  “Many times you told me Gray Eagle was the only man who stirred your heart to love and your body to passion. It will be the same this time,” he confidently promised, his smoldering gaze bringing a modest flush to her face and overly warming it.

  She tore her gaze from his. What would this stranger demand of her and from her if she left with him? Her hands twisted over and over in her lap as frightful emotions and suspicions darted in and out of her mind. Marriage meant sleeping together.… “I can’t,” she mumbled, more to herself than to him.