Black Horse

by Veronica Blake

With the first hazy gray streaks of dawn came another awakening of their passion as Black Horse made love to her for the third time since they had met at the riverbank the night before. Each time they indulged in this sensual ritual, Meadow noticed that his actions became more loving and more attuned to her pleasure. He explored every inch of her body, and then taught her how to touch him and please him in the same manner. By morning, she had no doubts about the night they had just spent together or about her love for this man.

  Meadow found it incredible that such a fierce warrior could also be such a considerate and gentle lover. The things he taught her and the feelings he aroused went far beyond the physical contact they shared. She knew she had found her life’s mate…her reason for living. And she knew Black Horse was also growing to love her as much as she loved him. His actions were proof. Knowing this man loved her would be the strength she could draw upon, no matter what the uncertain future held.

  “You are so beautiful, my green-eyed woman, inside and out,” Black Horse whispered as he held her close.

  Meadow snuggled up against him. They had used a patch of soft grass for a flimsy mattress, and the white blanket to cover themselves. The blanket did not provide them with much protection from the chilly early-morning air, and the ground beneath them was cold from the nighttime temperature.

  “So are you,” Meadow replied.

  “Men are not beautiful,” he retorted indignantly.

  “In my eyes you are beautiful,” she answered. A smile curved her lips when she heard Black Horse huff at her comment. She knew he would never agree with her, but everything about this man—his dangerously handsome appearance, of course, but also his strong beliefs and his exuberant passion—all made him beautiful in her mind.

  “We need to find White Buffalo,” Black Horse said, his voice growing serious. “I will ask him to marry us quickly so that you will not be considered a loose woman.” He pinched her nose teasingly, adding, “I would hate to see that pretty nose cut off.”

  A fiery blush rushed through Meadow’s face, and her nose twitched at his implication. Women who did not behave according to Sioux etiquette were sometimes disfigured so that everyone would know they had been disobedient, adulterous or loose with their feminine wiles. Sioux men, however, could have as many wives as pleased them, and it was not considered immoral. Meadow planned to be the only woman Black Horse would ever need.

  Now, however, she knew the time had come to be accountable for the previous night. She just hoped White Buffalo would understand and forgive them, because Meadow knew that she would not do one thing differently, if she had a choice.

  “He will be at the rock bluff overlooking the river at this time of the morning,” she said reluctantly. White Buffalo went to the bluff most mornings at the crack of dawn to contemplate the plight of their people and to seek inspiration. Some days he would have a vision, which he would anxiously repeat as soon as he returned to the village. In the past, Little Squirrel and Meadow would eagerly await his return so that they could listen to his amazing stories.

  “Would this be a good time to approach him?”

  Meadow shivered. “No time will be good to tell him that I have disgraced him.”

  “Do you regret—?”

  “No,” Meadow cut him off before he could finish. Black Horse’s hold on her tightened as she added, “Not one single minute of last night.”

  “If not for that Mountie…” Black Horse said between clenched teeth.

  Meadow felt the way his body stiffened. She understood his anger, because she felt the same way toward the man who had interrupted their wedding. Her feelings, however, were not so intense and deadly. Right now, she just wanted the episode with the Mountie to be forgotten, and with any luck, they would never have to see that man again. But most of all she wanted to be Black Horse’s wife as soon as possible.

  “I would prefer to talk to my father when he is alone, rather than once he is back at the village.”

  Black Horse mumbled his agreement, but Meadow sensed that his thoughts were still focused on the Mountie.

  “We should go now,” she added.

  A sharp pang had shot through Black Horse’s chest when Meadow said that she had disgraced her father. He wanted her to feel pride and joy on this first day as his woman, not disgrace. Her torment filled him with a feeling of guilt, leaving him more determined than ever to make her happy and proud to belong to him. It was hard for him to not blame the Mountie for all their problems, but now was not the time to dwell on the revenge he would seek if he ever encountered the man again.

  Forcing his thoughts back to the present situation, Black Horse eased his tense hold on Meadow. He turned away when his gaze met her worried one. A heavy frown settled on his face as he thought about White Buffalo’s probable reaction to their passionate night together. Telling the old medicine man about their impulsive behavior was not a task he was looking forward to. Still, he wanted to do it soon, so that the matter would be behind them and they could live their lives together without scandal.

  “Do you wish to bathe in the river first?” he asked, reluctant to leave this special spot. “But maybe we shouldn’t take the time,” he decided. There would be more than bathing going on if he was in the water with this beauty, and they had more important business to attend to now. He sighed heavily and released his hold on her.

  Meadow nodded in agreement and clutched her dress against her breast as she sat up. His smoldering look told her that he was thinking along the same lines as she was about the two of them taking a bath together.

  As the morning sun peeked over the horizon and began to brighten the countryside with its golden rays, Meadow’s natural modesty claimed her.

  Black Horse, however, did not grant her one moment of privacy as she dressed. His raven gaze glistened like black diamonds while he watched her every move, and he chuckled boldly when he caught her sneaking a peak at him when he stood up to put on his breechcloth. Since Meadow had already determined that bashfulness was not a trait he possessed, she was not surprised when Black Horse made sure he presented her with a full frontal view once again, just as he had on the first day they had been in almost this exact same spot. She could feel her face grow red with embarrassment. The instant he looked at her, his yearning to make love to her again became evident; his swollen manhood protruded shamelessly against the white material of his loose-hanging breechcloth.

  Meadow tried to avert her eyes from him, but that did not erase the virile image of him from her mind. If only one night with this man filled her with such great passion and longing, she wondered how she would ever function as a normal person again, once she was allowed to spend the rest of her life in his arms. Maybe, once they were properly married, they could just spend every night—and every day—among the soft furs in their tepee. The wanton thought made the glorious ache in her loins throb unmercifully.

  With a loud cough, Black Horse made an attempt to bring his racing emotions under control. What this woman did to him was causing him more than a little concern. How could he continue to be a ruthless war chief and a leader of his people, if the only thing he could concentrate on from this day forth was corralling this green-eyed woman in his arms?

  Black Horse reached down and picked up the white blanket and threw it over his shoulder. “It’s time to go see White Buffalo now, or else we might never leave.” He let his gaze meet with Meadow’s for an instant before they began to walk hand in hand away from the spot where they had spent their first night of lovemaking. As their eyes met now he felt an engulfing sense of oneness. He trembled at the realization that he would never feel whole again unless he was with this woman.

  They walked in silence through the forest, enjoying every sight and sound around them on this glorious day. The Canadian forest was in full bloom with autumn growth. The last of this season’s wild flowers in hues of yellow, blue and white opened their petals toward the sun, and the tall blades of grass shimmered in shades of bright green as the last d
ewdrops evaporated with the warming of the air. The day was flawless—at least where the weather was concerned.

  “We were so close to finishing our wedding vows that I really do believe my father will understand why we had to be together last night,” Meadow said as they neared their destination. Her trembling voice did not sound as convincing as she had hoped.

  White Buffalo sat atop a large boulder. If not for his graying hair, he could almost have been mistaken for a much younger man. His back was completely straight, his legs crossed with his arms resting upon his thighs, and his head was tilted upward toward the sky. He did not seem aware of anything around him.

  “I had hoped you would come here to see me this morning,” the old medicine man said without opening his eyes or moving.

  His unexpected words caused Black Horse and Meadow to halt abruptly. They remained rooted to the spot until the older man finally lowered his head and opened his eyes to look down at them. Only the loud chattering of an angry squirrel in a nearby pine tree broke the silence of the morning.

  In an attempt to break the awkwardness, Meadow stepped forward. “Father, I—I—We—” She motioned toward Black Horse while her words faltered in her dry mouth.

  “I know,” White Buffalo said with a slow nod of his head. He stared at his daughter for a second, and then glanced at Black Horse. “And I do understand.” He saw the tense look fade from the young chief’s face as their eyes met. “As I’ve told Meadow before, I was young once, too.” He smiled. “And Little Squirrel and I looked at one another the same way I see the two of you look at one another.” He looked back at Meadow in time to see the glowing blush color her pale cheeks. Another smile curved his lips. He uncurled his legs and slid down the front of the boulder.

  Standing in front of the young couple, White Buffalo focused his attention on Meadow. He noticed she stared down at the ground as if she was ashamed to look at him. With a gentle touch he lifted her chin up. Her troubled expression, along with the wide array of emotions he could glimpse in the depths of her jeweled gaze, told him the extent of her shame—and also how much she cared for the powerful man who stood at her side.

  The knowledge that she was falling so deeply in love with Black Horse was proof that intuition had not failed him. A wide smile claimed his mouth as relief flooded through him. He had gotten this one right.

  “Do not regret anything, mi-cun-ksi,” White Buffalo said as he tenderly cupped Meadow’s small chin in his rough hand. He shook his head. “As I have told you in the past, our people do not have time for regrets. We must seize every opportunity for happiness.” He grinned again, then glanced up at Black Horse. The younger man nodded his head in agreement. White Buffalo’s attention returned to Meadow. Her worried frown had not disappeared.

  “Do you want to finish getting married today, then?” White Buffalo asked.

  Meadow nodded her head, because she did not trust herself to speak. A large lump had formed in her throat, and she could feel the stinging sensation of tears welling up in her eyes. White Buffalo’s kindness and understanding never ceased to amaze her. She stood on her toes and kissed him softly on the cheek. When she glanced up at him again, she noticed his eyes were also shiny with moisture. How lucky she had been to be raised as his daughter.

  “I have the authority to perform the marriage ceremony, if you want me to do it,” White Buffalo suggested.

  “Can you conduct the ceremony right now?” Black Horse asked.

  White Buffalo nodded his head. “Yes, we need to finish what was started yesterday—to right the wrong that was done to both of you by the soldier.” He glanced at Meadow again, then looked back to Black Horse. “But I would like to talk to my daughter first. Will you give us a few moments of privacy? We’ll meet you at our tepee soon, and then we’ll get on with the important business of getting you two properly married.” He motioned toward the white blanket that still hung over Black Horse’s shoulder. “That will finally serve the purpose it was meant for,” he added with a chuckle.

  Black Horse did not acknowledge the medicine man’s attempt at humor, but he did feel his face grow hot. He didn’t even glance in Meadow’s direction, because he could only imagine how embarrassed she was at this moment. He did not want to go back to the village alone. To delay this wedding any longer seemed like a bad idea to him, and as he observed the loving exchange between the medicine man and his daughter, a strange sense of urgency began to overcome him. The feeling of foreboding continued to grow inside him and made his uneasiness expand until he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.

  He glanced around at the forest, then down toward the river. Everything was as calm, quiet and natural as it had been earlier. But the tightness in his chest and the fluttering in his stomach told Black Horse that something was not right. Many times his instinct had kept him from riding into an enemy ambush, or kept him safe from some other type of harm. He stared at White Buffalo for a moment longer, wondering if the medicine man sensed danger. But from White Buffalo’s expression, it was plain the old man was not experiencing the same type of anxiety that he was feeling at this time. Black Horse told himself that if a wise, insightful man like White Buffalo did not feel uneasy, it must be only in his imagination.

  “I will be waiting for you back at the camp,” Black Horse said, silently reprimanding himself for feeling so negative and afraid. As he started to walk away, he gazed once more at Meadow. Their eyes met and seemed to hold one another prisoner for several seconds. The strangling sensation passed through Black Horse again. He shivered visibly. Standing there in the glow of the early morning sun she looked so beautiful…and so vulnerable.

  The vigorous night of lovemaking had left her long hair tangled around her shoulders, and she had faint purple smudges beneath her lower lashes from lack of sleep. Even now, standing here in the presence of her father, Black Horse yearned to carry her back into the forest and make love to her again. An odd sense of sadness inched through him, mingling with his feelings of desire.

  When Meadow met Black Horse’s piercing stare, a radiant smile lit up her face. He forced himself to smile back, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to conceal his growing panic.

  Though he hated to leave, Black Horse tore his gaze away from her face and reluctantly walked toward the camp. Several times he stopped and thought about going back, but he did not want White Buffalo and Meadow to think he was acting like a fool, and so he forced himself to continue on to the village.

  As Meadow watched Black Horse’s departure, she wondered why he wore such an odd expression. For one instant, she had a wild urge to run after him, throw her arms around him and never let him go again. But then the pounding sensation in her breast calmed, and her frantic thoughts ceased. She told herself she was becoming fearful because of what had happened with the soldiers yesterday. There was nothing that could interfere with their wedding today, especially now that she knew White Buffalo was not angry with her.

  “Black Horse is coming to love you very much,” White Buffalo said. “I think he worries about losing you.”

  Meadow sighed and turned away from the direction where Black Horse had just disappeared into the dense forest. Was that what she had glimpsed on his face—love entwined with fear? “I love him very much, too. I will never leave him,” she said quietly. “Or you and my adoptive people.”

  White Buffalo did not reply to her comment. He motioned toward the river. “Come, let’s walk down by the water and talk.” He took her arm as they began to walk.

  A worried frown settled on Meadow’s face. She could only think of one reason why her father would want to postpone the wedding any longer, or why he would need to talk to her in private. “I’m sorry if I have brought you shame,” she said in a trembling tone of voice.

  “You have not shamed me. I meant it when I said that I understood what was happening between you and Black Horse,” he insisted. “And I cannot tell you how happy it makes me. As for last night…Well, I do not think that anyone else even
suspects that you were with Black Horse. Sings Like Sparrow and Gentle Water think that you came back to our tepee last night, and I did not tell them any differently.”

  In spite of White Buffalo’s generous attitude, Meadow could not help but feel as if she had dishonored him by spending the night with Black Horse. She knew it must have been hard for him to hide the truth from Sings Like Sparrow and Gentle Water. It was not in his nature to lie to anyone.

  “I had a vision this morning,” White Buffalo said.

  Meadow paused beside her father at the river’s edge. The morning sun reflected across the smooth surface of the deep water with such brilliance, it was impossible to stare at the shimmering water without blinking. “What did you see in this vision?” she asked with enthusiasm. She would never grow tired of hearing her father’s insightful revelations of past or future events.

  White Buffalo hesitated for a few seconds before he answered. He was still trying to sort through the jumbled thoughts and images that had passed through his mind earlier this morning while he had been in a deep trance. When he had first closed his eyes and cleared his head of all thoughts, his mind had wandered as it usually did to the bleak future of his people. But then his thoughts had become focused solely on his daughter. He envisioned her disrupted wedding and the Mountie who had caused the disturbance. He tried to push away the image of the blond soldier, but for reasons he could not comprehend, he sensed that somehow the Mountie would play a future role in Meadow’s life.

  As his vision progressed, White Buffalo saw a large triangle in the middle of a vast field. At the tip of the triangle he could see Meadow. Her hair was braided Indian-style with feathers and leather strips adorning her pale tresses; she wore beaded, fringed moccasins on her feet. But she was wearing a white woman’s flowered gown instead of her usual deerskin dress. Her odd mixture of white and Indian garments concerned White Buffalo. He had seen his daughter many times in his visions, but she had always been wearing the customary Sioux garments. Even more confusing was that Black Horse stood at one point of the triangle and the fair-haired Mountie stood opposite him on the other point.