And, oh, what answers might he be able to tell her about her heritage?
Could she be Blackfoot?
Could her true father be somewhere near for her to go to, to confess to him that she was his long-lost daughter?
Would she love him instantly as daughters should love fathers? Or would she feel too awkward for such a love between herself and a father she had never known?
The only father she had ever loved and embraced awaited her return in Saint Louis.
Oh, Lord, she could not let him down by loving another father perhaps even more than he!
"Sis?"
Kirk's voice drew Jolena from her thoughts. She swung around, smiling almost guiltily at Kirk, for if he had been able to read her thoughts, he would have been stunned. He would put her quickly in her place for thinking about another father, when in truth there was only one man whom she should ever call by such a name.
"Sis, I've come to have a talk with you," Kirk said, moving into the room.
He closed the door behind him and walked across the room and took Jolena's hand. He led her down onto a sofa before a blazing fire in the fireplace.
Lamplight from a lone kerosene lamp flickered soft light around the room and onto Jolena's face, making it take on an even more lovely, copper sheen. Kirk gazed at her and thought how beautiful she was in her fully-gathered cotton dress; then he frowned when his eyes shifted to the low-swept bodice of her dress, thinking that it revealed too much of the deep cleavage between her well-rounded breasts.
She already had enough men leering at her.
Yet he did not condemn her for her choice of dresses. No one else would see her tonight but himself, and tomorrow she would be wearing a plain travel skirt and blouse, hiding the inviting traits of her figure from the boisterous wagoners and… and the Blackfoot guide.
''You came to have a talk," Jolena said stiffly. "What about?" She feared that she already knew the answer to her question and even felt foolish asking it. He was going to talk about Spotted Eagle again. He was going to warn her once again about being too friendly to Indians. She could almost speak his exact words as they breathed across his narrow lips.
"Jolena," Kirk said, turning toward her, now holding both of her hands. "We need to set things straight about a few thingsabout how you are to behave in the presence of the Indian that has shown an attraction to you. Jolena, you are Indian. Not only are you Indian, you are beautiful. That is a lethal combination when it comes to being around an Indian warrior who may not yet have chosen a woman as his lifetime companion. Jolena, always keep father clear in your mind. He could not bear to lose youespecially to Indians. He has feared this all of his life. You can't make his fears real!"
Her thoughts scrambled, her loyalties toward her white father already threatened within her heart, Jolena turned her eyes away from Kirk.
She swallowed hard, feeling guilty for not being able to keep her thoughts from straying to the Blackfoot warrior.
She closed her eyes and set her jaw tightly, knowing that the battle within her was just beginning. She was wondering now if she could survive it.
How could she live between two worlds?
Until now, there had only been one, the other having been locked within the deepest recesses of her heart and soul. Coming to the Montana Territory and seeing the man of her midnight dreams had changed things the instant she had stepped on the soil of her ancestors… and she could not help but let things unfurl as they would and live with the decisions that she would finally make.
She was still young, with so much of her life still stretched out before her. She would choose the path that would make her the happiest and hope that she did not cause too much hurt to those she sorely loved in the process. "Jolena, for God's sake, say something," Kirk said, placing a firm hand to her shoulder, causing her to turn her eyes quickly back to him. "Your silence is frightening me."
He searched her dark eyes for answers that she was not saying aloud to him, fear stabbing him when he saw something there that he had never seen before. At this moment, his sister seemed a stranger to him. It was as though he was looking into the eyes of an Indian instead of his precious sister's.
For too long, it seemed, he had played a game within his heart that made him forget that she was Indian instead of white. Now the reality was coming to him in leaps and bounds, and it hurt.
It hurt to think that she might be changing right before his eyes into the exact thing that he had always dreaded.
He had placed his own future aside temporarily just to prevent this from happening. But he now realized that nothing or no one could change what was truethat she was Indian and she would be feeling it, deeply within her soul, now that she was in the land of her ancestors.
He cursed himself for ever allowing her to come to the place.
But he knew deep down inside himself that she would have come alone, had he not come as her escort. She was too willful and determined once her mind was made up about something. He also knew for certain now that finding the rare butterfly came second to her true reasons for having come to the Montana Territory.
"Kirkdear, sweet Kirk," Jolena finally said, placing a hand to his cheek as he dropped his hand from her shoulder. "Please don't worry about me, and please don't preach to me. Although you are my older brother, please remember it is only by a few weeks. I am old enough to take care of myself, and most certainly to make my own choices in life. The Indian? Yes, I must admit I noticed his attraction to me. Please don't be threatened by that. I am sure he was intrigued to see an Indian woman who wears white woman's clothes. It's not surprising that he should wonder about an Indian woman who lives among the white people as though one of them."
"But don't you see, Jolena, you are one of us," Kirk pleaded. "Although you have the skin coloring of an Indian, you are in all other ways white. Please don't forget that and don't allow yourself to fantasize over finding your true people. It could inflict many hurts."
"Kirk, if your skin was copper and you had only Indian blood flowing through your veins, wouldn't you also want to know the truth of your heritage?" Jolena said, trying to reason with Kirk, yet thinking that she was truly wasting her time.
He had his mind setas did she!
She would search for her true heritage, no matter what Kirk said. She was driven to find the answers now that she had the opportunity!
"I would hope that I would be grateful for the life that had been handed me," Kirk said bitterly. He rose from the sofa and began pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped tightly behind him.
Jolena moved slowly to her feet. She placed a hand to Kirk's arm and stopped him. She gazed into his eyes with a pleading in hers. "Kirk, no one could ever be as grateful as I am for what my white father and mother
did for me," she said solemnly, but was interrupted before she could finish.
Kirk yanked himself away from her, flinging a hand wildly in the air. "Did you just hear yourself?" he shouted. "Did you hear how you called father your 'white' father? Lord, Jolena, you've never said that before. He is your father in every way. How can you forget that?"
Tired of this arguing and being made to feel ashamed for her natural feelings, Jolena's eyes suddenly glittered mutinously. "Kirk, please leave," she said, her voice and jaw tight. "I would like to stop discussing these things before we say something we might regret. Just leave it be, Kirk. Do you hear? Leave it be."
"Jolena, I will say this one more time," Kirk said stubbornly. "Don't be friends with Indians. They can't be trusted."
The venom in her brother's voice made Jolena leap to the defense of Indians. She leaned into his face. " I am Indian, aren't I?" she said, her eyes flaring angrily. "Can't I be trusted?" When Kirk did not respond and still stood his ground, refusing to budge, Jolena sighed heavily and walked in a huff past him.
Her fingers were trembling as she yanked the door open and began running down the narrow corridor lighted by candles flickering in wall sconces. With Kirk close on her heels, she ran on outside and across the courtyard, angry, frustrated tears blinding her from where she was actually going as Kirk began shouting at her to stop.
"Jolena!" Kirk shouted. "Yes, you are Indian, but it's not the same for you. You were raised in a civilized manner. Indians are raised as heathens!"
His words tore at Jolena's heart. Almost blinded with rage, she sobbed furiously and kept on running, then stopped suddenly when she collided with someone.
Raising her eyes, she swallowed hard and her heart raced when she found herself looking squarely up at the handsome Blackfoot warrior.
And when his hands went to her shoulder to steady her from falling from the jolt of the collision, the melting she experienced deeply within her was so sweet that she feared it.
Kirk's warnings kept flashing on and off within her mind, yet they seemed to be growing dimmer the longer she stood in awestruck silence facing Spotted Eagle.
Spotted Eagle gazed down at her when he saw her eyes all swollen and red from crying; he wanted to draw her into his tight embrace to protect her from her brother's scalding words, which Spotted Eagle had overheard.
But he did not dare cause any more turmoil between a brother and sister and quickly released her as Kirk came in a breathless rush to her side.
Staring at the Indian, Kirk reached out for Jolena and placed an arm possessively around her waist. He fought to keep his voice steady as he began ushering her back toward the fort. "Come now, sis," he said softly. "We must get you back to your room. It is best that you get to bed soon, for we will be leaving before sunrise on the morrow."
Jolena moved in a half-stumble alongside Kirk, stunned by her true feelings for Spotted Eagle. It would be hard to hide them, especially from Kirk. "Yes, I imagine you are right," she murmured. "Suddenly I am so tired."
"And must I remind you again of the true reason we are in the Montana Territory?" Kirk persisted, thinking that perhaps if he hammered it into her brain, she might finally believe it to be so. "The butterfly, Jolena. The rare butterfly. Only the rare butterfly."
Jolena turned soft, dark eyes to her brother. "Kirk, you can say that all you want," she murmured. "But I feel that I am here for a better purpose. I even feel as though I belong here. My dreams have drawn me here, Kirk."
"Hogwash," Kirk exclaimed loudly.
He stopped and drew her into his gentle embrace. "I'm so sorry for battling with you about so many things," he said softly. "And I admit that I was a bit rash in my remarks about the Indians. I apologize." "I understand why you did it, and I accept your apology," Jolena said.
Over Kirk's shoulder she was watching Spotted Eagle as he moved to his haunches beside his campfire. Just the sight of him caused her heart to race. She was filled with anticipation for the coming days, when she would come to know Spotted Eagle better.
She closed her eyes, envisioning him holding and kissing her, wishing it to be true, soon…
Spotted Eagle stared into the flames of the fire, yet did not see it. He was still too caught up in feelings for this woman who had suddenly entered his life like wildfire rushing through his blood to see anything but her image everywhere he looked!
It was not like him to allow a woman to rule his every thought.
Until today he had allowed but one woman to enter his heart, and she was long gone from him.
He had put the importance of learning everything that he would need when he was called to rule his people, as their powerful chief, above all else. He had listened well to his father's instructions about the requirements of being chief.
His father was not a well man, having mourned the death of Spotted Eagle's mother for too long now, so that he had begun ailing himself, and Spotted Eagle feared that it was more from a broken heart than anything else physical. This also had made Spotted Eagle shy away from allowing another woman inside his heart. He did not want to ever feel the same pain again that he and his father had felt over the loss of a woman.
There were many things in life to enjoy besides women!
Yet Spotted Eagle could not grasp exactly what, now that he had met the woman called Jolena.
"She has drawn you inside yourself, has she not?" Two Ridges said, suddenly breaking Spotted Eagle's train of thought. "She is this special to you?"
"The woman who has arrived with the white people on the large river canoe?" Spotted Eagle said, looking guardedly back at Two Ridges. "She is nothing to me. Nothing."
"Then your thoughts are on the travel ahead?" Two Ridges said, grinning smugly, knowing that his friend was not speaking the full truth to him. Yet he did not want to pursue further conversation about it when he had his own hidden thoughts and desires regarding the copper princess. "You think perhaps of having to fight off Cree renegades, especially the one called Long Nose, while protecting these people who know little of the dangers the Cree impose upon them?"
"Long Nose will dare not pursue a confrontation with the white people when he sees who guides them through the wilderness," Spotted Eagle said. "He understands that he will incur the wrath of this Blackfoot, whose warriors number three times those of the Cree. He learned long ago not to interfere in Spotted Eagle's life. My father taught me well the art of warring when it is required against those whose heart is dark."
"That is so," Two Ridges said, nodding. "You are respected far and wide. It is with the same admiration that this friend respects you and will humbly ride with you while guiding the white people on their search for the rare butterfly.
"The white woman," Two Ridges dared to say, having realiz
ed that his friend did not want to speak about her to him. "She is most beautiful, is she not? And it was strange how you acted as though you had seen her before."
Spotted Eagle's shoulders tensed as he looked away from Two Ridges, gazing toward the large cabin where he knew that Jolena was perhaps even now undressing for bed. Ah, but if he were only there, to touch her, to kiss her, to tell her that she had always been his.
Two Ridges stared at Spotted Eagle, hurt that he was ignoring him again. He set his lips tightly together and narrowed his eyes, feeling that this friend would one day show his annoyance one time too often.
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