Brazen Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  “I cannot call back my harsh words, but I ask you to understand their reasons,” he tenderly entreated, pulling her around to face him. When her head remained lowered, he lifted her chin to fuse their gazes. “I love you, Shalee, more than my life or my father. When I heard such traitorous words, it was not you I attacked, but the words. They sliced into my heart and my mind brutally rejected them. He is my father!” he stressed in anguish. “How could I believe such evil of him, even when the truth came from my love? I fiercely resisted them, thinking my rage would make them false. Even now when Running Wolf speaks them, my heart rebels. My heart wars with my mind. Do I persuade him to slay my own brother or to sell him to another warrior? Do I deny my own anguish and advise him to keep Leah and the child? Do I ignore the warning signs of conflict within our tribe? Do I offer him love and understanding? Do I scold him and dishonor him? Since I left my mother’s body, I have been taught to think of my laws and people first, then myself. I have battled and hated our white enemies. Yet, you entered my life and I have never been the same again. I denied all I was and believed to take you and love you. Only White Arrow knows you are white. I have kept your secret from my own father’s ears. When I argued against his desire for a white woman, guilt filled my heart and battled me. Once you told me, ‘Words say we are enemies, but hearts do not.’ It is so, for I love only you. Still, the words of my people and laws challenge me to prove your place in my life-circle. Surely the Great Spirit agrees, for He allows you to remain with me. Evil and trouble brew here, Shalee. Leah is not like you. It was not wrong for me to take you, but it is wrong for Running Wolf to claim Leah. Spirits warn me to fight against her, but do I have the right to do so loving you?”

  “I understand how deeply this matter hurts you, Gray Eagle. Leah does not belong with us. But it is too late to halt the damage she can do. I had hoped to spare you this agony and shame, but I could not. Who has the right to force a man to deny his own child? Does it matter if Leah tricked your father? Does his brief weakness or humiliation count more than his child? Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything, but I felt the truth should be revealed. If things had been different long ago, it could have been me and our son in a similar position. Even as your white captive, could you have denied us and sold me? I think not. Which pride is greater: to father a son or to prevent any small stain upon your face? Honor can be regained; a lost child cannot. Which guilt is larger: guilt over the mating or guilt over denying a child and endangering his life? There are no simple answers. Such deeds demand high prices. It is Running Wolf’s place to decide which price to meet, not yours or mine or our people’s. Leah is not important, only the child. He will be your brother, an innocent child; could I hold such secrets within me? Would you not suspect them? To withhold the truth would be the same as lying and deceiving. I want no such things between us. You must come to terms with this lingering resentment of my white blood. We cannot change it. You must open the wound, cleanse it, and permit it to heal. If not, the festering will always be painful and destructive to us. Your people believe I am half-Indian; why must you continue to feel guilty that I am not? The Great Spirit allowed the trick and has guarded it well. Throw away your guilt and resentment before they destroy our love,” she urged him, eyes misty and entreating.

  “You speak wisely, Little One. Love sees no shame. No matter the price, I could never lose you. Perhaps the illness that claimed your memory and made you white for a time also caused me to view you as white again. I did not mean to do so. For many winters, you have been only Indian to me. It will be so again. I will pray to Wakantanka for strength and wisdom never to hurt you again. Return the light of happiness and forgiveness to your eyes, and I will try never to remove it again,” he huskily promised.

  His stirring words made her realize a point she had not considered; she had been acting white for weeks. He was right about another point; he had denied all he was to claim her. Too, Leah’s successful ploy gnawed at his pride, defeat being an unwelcome stranger to him. What a precarious predicament! Thank God her love had not submitted to Leah’s cunning schemes! How would she ever accept another woman’s child as his? If only she could comprehend a woman like Leah… she could not.

  She smiled up at him. “I believe you, my love; you battled my words and not me. I was simply too hurt and stunned to realize this before. What happens now?” she sighed in frustration and dread, hugging him tightly.

  His strong arms eased around her slender body and held her possessively against his stalwart frame. “Wakantanka must solve this riddle for us. White Arrow thinks Leah lies; he thinks a coming moon will reveal her treachery,” he said, submitting new hope.

  She leaned back and looked up at him. “What do you mean?” she pressed, suspense edging into her voice and relief flooding her sea-green eyes.

  “Perhaps Leah’s daring was not in tricking my father to her mat, but in claiming a child from their joinings. When it is time for her woman’s way, the truth will shine brightly like Wi. We must wait and watch.”

  “You mean she might not be pregnant?” she exploded in astonishment.

  “White Arrow thinks she is cunning and terrified. He thinks she lies.”

  Shalee contemplated this new suggestion. What if Leah was lying? If so, all of their problems were solved. But why would she tell a lie that could be so easily unmasked? If she wasn’t pregnant now, there was no way she… “Warn your father to be on guard for her tricks!” she hastily advised.

  When his brow lifted inquisitively, she hurriedly explained, “If she is desperate and tempts him to sleep with her again, he might fall prey to her spell again. If he thinks her already carrying his child, what harm could another joining do? An aging man’s pride in his prowess is great, and Leah is very desirable,” she conjectured meaningfully.

  A scowl darkened his handsome features. “You speak wise again. If his guard is down and his pride great, her evil magic might make her lie true. I must speak with him. Even if she bears his son, she will be sent away after his birth. We will help him raise his child, my brother.”

  Shalee laughed and quipped to lighten the aura around them. “What if it is a sister? Even noble chiefs have daughters, too.”

  He chuckled and caressed her cheek. “A girl child would be more acceptable than a boy,” he promptly announced.

  “Why?” she curiously inquired.

  “A chief’s son follows his path; he stands above others. If the Great Spirit called me to join him, Running Wolf’s second son would become chief. A half-breed could not. This would not be true of a girl child.”

  “I see,” she murmured in mock annoyance. “A female is not as valuable as a man?” she teased impishly. “Surely the intrepid Gray Eagle does not worry that a mere half-breed brother will outshine his many coups?”

  He laughed heartily. “Your tongue dares much, wife. Gray Eagle fears and cowers to no man, only one cunning white girl,” he playfully confessed. “But a sister would cause less conflict than a brother. Even a chief’s son born of an Indian maiden of another warring tribe must fight to earn his place as chief. Half-breeds are filled with resentment in such matters. Often tribes are torn apart by those who side with and against such a leader. In my heart and mind, I know the Oglala would never follow Leah’s son. We must pray for a girl child,” he stated gravely.

  Unintentionally recalling the half-breed scout who had once befriended, protected, loved, and tragically betrayed her, she knew his words were accurate. To live as a despicable half-breed was worse than to exist as a lowly white slave. How very demanding and destructive were prejudice and excessive pride. It was distressing to realize what marvelous destinies such people were cruelly denied. She didn’t need to ask about their son’s half-white heritage, for Bright Arrow was viewed as Indian, as she was. How fortunate for both of them….

  “You are right, my love; a half-breed woman is more tolerable than a half-breed chief’s son,” she astutely concurred. “I am grateful the Great Spirit chose not to stain our
son with such an existence. I will do nothing to remind your people I am white.”

  “Our people,” he mildly chided her.

  She smiled radiantly and nodded. “I am Princess Shalee, nothing more or less,” she happily concluded. “

  “You are far more, my love,” he corrected her again, his tone resonant and caressing. His words were tender and comforting. She became lost in his mellow tone and hypnotic gaze, as if peacefully floating upon a tranquil black sea.

  “Come, let us return to our tepee,” he encouraged, his passion gleaming in those mesmeric jet eyes.

  She snuggled into his arms and rested her cheek against the smooth, firm chest of coppery flesh. She sighed contentedly. He lifted her chin and provocatively devoured her lips, enticing them to respond heatedly to his. His hands moved up and down her back, savoring the feel of her warmth and nearness. His lips traveled down her neck, then back to her eager mouth. Her respiration quickened to match his erratic breathing. A glow suffused her body, causing her to tremble.

  “Oh, how I love you, Gray Eagle,” she murmured in a voice laced with mounting desire and feverish emotion. When he gazed into those lucid pools of green, her eyes said more than her words.

  Enraptured and enflamed, he playfully seized her in his arms and headed for their tepee. She laughed merrily and taunted, “The camp is far away; do you have enough strength to carry me there?”

  “You are but a feather and I am a strong arrow. I can carry you anywhere,” he roguishly retorted, bending forward to kiss her soundly.

  “But passion steals your breath, my love,” she seductively replied.

  “How so when you are the air I breathe?” he instantly and cunningly parried, chuckling in amusement.

  “I also steal your keen eyes. What if you stumble in the darkness and injure us?” she wittingly fenced, relishing this merry game.

  “If so, we will make love where we fall,” he murmured.

  “I think not, for who has keener senses than my Wanmdi Hota? You are matchless in all ways. My heart swells with pride and love to know you are mine alone.”

  “As you are mine alone,” he vowed in a compelling tone that settled around her like a warm blanket. “How did I exist without you?”

  “Because you did not know the heights of passion or depths of love before me, as I did not before you. The moment our eyes touched, we knew and felt such things. The moment we joined our bodies, our hearts and lives were joined for all time. There is no power that can separate us, for no power is greater than yours.”

  “You forget the Great Spirit,” he reminded her.

  “You have found favor in His eyes and heart. He gave you the one woman who could love you and fulfill you as no other, not even Indian. You cannot be defeated, for He shares his power with you.”

  He halted and placed her feet upon the ground. He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly and pervasively before saying, “Yes, Shalee, you are the only woman who touches my heart and claims it.”

  She hungrily meshed her lips with his, holding a jaw between her hands that represented so much strength and beauty. After several fiery kisses, he grasped her hand and led her toward camp. “If we do not put out this fire soon, my body will burn to ashes,” he jested.

  “Patience and anticipation will increase your desires, my love.”

  “What patience can I find when you are near and I cannot touch you?”

  “Shall I share mine with you?” she saucily came back at him.

  He eyed her suspiciously, then chuckled. “You cannot, for you lack enough for yourself.”

  “You are to blame,” she mirthfully accused. “Your teaching lacked one thing; you taught me to build fires, but only to put them out in one way.”

  “Shall we race to our tepee and test who has the greater fire?”

  “It would only. prove who has the greater speed and skills: you. We will forget all problems and think only of our fires.” She unwittingly reminded him of Leah and her schemes.

  He halted abruptly and stiffened. “I must see my father. Return to our tepee and wait for me. I will return to your side soon, Little One. I cannot rest until I warn my father. Do not be angry,” he coaxed her, smiling ruefully.

  If she hadn’t witnessed Gray Eagle’s rejection of Leah, she might mistrust him. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps Leah was too tempting for an aging man, even a proud Indian chief. Besides, Gray Eagle wasn’t himself when Leah had boldly conspired to seduce her husband. She smiled and nodded, “Do not be long, my love,” she hinted sweetly, then kissed him.

  “Before you can ease yourself down upon our mat, I will be at your side,” he promised huskily, tugging upon a lock of chestnut hair.

  She walked away as he headed for Running Wolf’s tepee. When Running Wolf called out permission for him to enter, his voice was strained. Gray Eagle ducked and went forward with several agile strides. His gaze moved from his father’s furious expression to Leah’s embarrassed one. He didn’t have to ask what had angered him. In a low voice he stated, “I came to warn you she might attempt her magic once more, my father. You must guard against her tricks,” he needlessly offered.

  Running Wolf’s narrowed eyes glared at the white girl kneeling upon her mat, vainly trying to hide her humiliation. Gray Eagle shook his head in irritation and disbelief. He went to tower over Leah, his stance and aura menacing. Her head jerked upwards and her gaze widened in shock as he spoke to her through clenched teeth, his tone glacial and distinct, his words thundering at her in fluent English.

  “If you wish to live to see Wi’s face again, white whore, do not tempt my father to betray his honor. If you lie about the child, you will die,” he warned ominously without mercy or feeling. “You have dared much here. Soon, you will pay for such evil deeds. If there is a child, you will be sent away when it is born. If not…” He left his threat hanging in midair, his meaning clear.

  Fury and bitterness stormed her spiteful body. She determined to fix him! She would make him squirm and notice her! “There is a child, but it is not Running Wolf’s!” she sneered coldly, instigating her vindictive ploy sooner than she had expected to do, if at all. “I dared not tell the truth before your loving wife’s ears; you would have slain me where I stood! Can you be so blind and ignorant? Have you forgotten the night I slept upon your mat when you thought Shalee was dead? Running Wolf did not take me first, you did! Running Wolf is too old to father a son; the child I carry is yours!”

  “Your evil has stolen your mind, Leah! I have never taken you!” he declared fiercely.

  “Where is your honor, Great Warrior? Do you deny I made love to you that night after you left the ceremonial lodge? Was your mind so dazed you cannot recall the fiery joining of our bodies? When your head cleared and you threw me aside, we had already made love. You refused our second mating, but not our first! You cast a magic spell over me that night. Since that time you took me, I have desired and loved no man but you. Why did you think I pursued you so boldly? Because I knew what it was to make love to you! The memory of that wonderful night has tormented me. Your father took me by force; I did not seduce him. He came to my mat; I did not go to his. If you doubt me, ask him!” she challenged. “I only wanted you; I could not forget you or the fiery night we shared. What did it matter you called me Shalee? What did it matter your heart was making love to your dead wife? Your body made love to mine. It is your son I carry, Gray Eagle, the son she cannot give you,” she cunningly and cruelly alleged.

  “You lie, white whore!” he shouted in outrage.

  “Do I?” she charged. “Have you truly forgotten taking me, or do you only claim you do not remember? Look me in the eye and swear you did not make love to me that night. I gave you great pleasure that night. My mouth feasted upon him until I drove you wild with desire. You drank from my breasts and teased my womanhood until I burned to have you. Your head was dazed and would not allow you to ride me. So I climbed upon your body and rode you until he spewed his seeds into me. Whi
le we rested and my hands caressed him to new life, your head cleared and you rejected another mating. You wanted Shalee, but I was the one at your side. If she had not returned, I would still be at your side,” she smugly announced. “You have refused me other times, but you wanted me. Are you too proud to confess the truth? Were you honestly too drunk to recall that wonderful night? Do you remember any of it?” she asked, forcing her expression to somber gravity.

  His moody silence handed her victory number one. His warring expression, which exposed his indecision and horror, handed her victory number two. Before he could vividly recall that night, she sought victory number three, “Have you forgotten how I touched you? How I comforted you while you grieved for her? How I sated the urgent needs of your body? Later when your mind cleared, your pride returned and you shoved me aside. But my heart and body craved other nights upon your mats. I love you, Gray Eagle; I have since the first moment I looked upon you. That is why I shamelessly chase you and tempt you. Why. did you awaken me to such desires, then reject me? Why do you force your father to claim your son? If Shalee had not returned, you would have taken me to your tepee and mat. If you do not believe me, ask your father if I was a virgin the night he brutally forced himself upon me. I said nothing because I love you and feared your hatred and revenge if I told the truth. Can you deny your own son? Can you raise him as your brother? Can you place unjust guilt upon your father’s head? He is not strong enough to protect our son. What will happen to him when Running Wolf dies? You are a virile man; surely one woman is not enough for you. I could love you as much as Shalee does. I can give you sons and pleasures she cannot. Try to remember that night. If you do, you will recall I pleased you as she never can.

  “I have never taken you, Leah,” he weakly argued. His shaky voice and doubtful air presented her with victory number four.

  “Only you have touched my heart, Gray Eagle; I shall never forget you or that night. If I did not love you so much, I would have told Shalee about us. I have not mentioned that night or the other times when you were tempted to take me. Perhaps the darkness of your tepee allowed you to forget I am white when the light of day refused. Perhaps you were drunk and honestly thought I was Shalee. No matter, the child is yours; my love is yours.”