Melodis Tune

by Melodi's Tune (NCP) (lit)

  Little Raccoon glanced at the doorway to Plant Growing Woman's wigwam. Shining Rock sat with their aunt. The gesturing of their arms made it clear to Little Raccoon that they were in heated discussion. Probably discussion about her. Over the past several days she'd endured curious glances from the older women, jealous indifference from the men who earlier had showered her with attention in their attempts to gain her as their wife, and nightly arguments with Shining Rock and Plant Growing Woman about this new arrangement with Walks With The Wind.

  Sighing, she went back to her work. Walks With The Wind had been her constant companion ever since she'd shocked the village, and herself, by offering to show him the ways of her tribe. The look of appreciation in Walks With The Wind's eyes undid any apprehension she felt at her decision.

  What the shaman had said was true. Any misfortune, from poor hunting to unexpected illness, would be attributed to an evil influence. Who better to accuse than Walks With The Wind? He was a stranger. Now her lot was cast with him. She was determined that he do nothing to further disrupt the tribe's life.

  He didn't mind doing what was considered woman's work, either. Little Raccoon knew he was a skilled hunter. The village had enjoyed the fruits of his skill with bow, spear, and snare more than once since he'd joined them. But he often followed her around and asked an occasional question about what she was doing. The one thing Little Raccoon waited for, for him to speak in the strangely familiar language again, did not happen.

  "You'll grind that into mush if you do it much longer."

  "What?" Little Raccoon turned her thoughts back to the present. Her gaze caught Walks With The Wind's wry grin as she realized she'd ground the berries to dust. "This should mix easily." She smiled at him.

  "What were you thinking that caused your thoughts to wander so far?" Walks With The Wind asked.

  She emptied the ground berries into the basket beside her. He picked it up and accompanied her to where the other women were preparing the meat.

  Little Raccoon ignored his question. "I wish to check my snares," she told him. She grabbed a game bag on the way out of the village.

  "Do all the women know how to set snares and hunt as you do?"

  "No, my father had no sons to teach. I wanted to learn. There is nothing wrong with a woman knowing how, it is just that most women prefer to have a man show how much he values her by providing her with meat to eat and skins to tan."

  "Who in this village values you?"

  Little Raccoon grinned. "No one has thrown a dead deer at the entrance to my father's wigwam since Young Buck took me as his wife."

  "How many deer did he need to convince you that he was the husband for you?"

  "Not enough," Little Raccoon answered softly. With time she had grown to realize how well Young Buck had fooled everyone. She wasn't ready to share this with Walks With The Wind.

  Her first snare was empty. They walked further into the forest to check the next. This one yielded a fat gray rabbit. It gazed at Little Raccoon with wild eyes before she slit its throat.

  "Thank you, Brother Rabbit, for the gift of your meat," she said, the she quickly gutted the carcass and put the body into the bag. Though small, it would be a welcome contribution to the evening meal.

  The sun was high in the sky by the time Little Raccoon finished checking her snares. They stopped in the shelter of an ancient cypress to drink from the spring that bubbled from the ground nearby.

  "Here." Little Raccoon brought out several strips of dried meat and handed them to Walks With The Wind. "You must be as hungry as I. Let's rest for a moment."

  They shared the moss-covered warmth of a boulder, dappled with sunlight filtering through the leaves. Little Raccoon closed her eyes for a moment and let her senses open to their surroundings. The tangy warm scent of the cypress tree mingled with the sweetness of the tiny white flowers that covered the glade. A trickle of perspiration rolled between the valley of her breasts, sending a cooling flame to her navel. Smoky, spiced meat filled her mouth, her teeth reveled in the chewing of it. She felt alive, as she hadn't in moons.

  "It's nice here." Walks With The Wind's words broke her reverie.

  He sat so that his thigh brushed hers, they sat shoulder to shoulder. A warm, musky, scent that Little Raccoon associated it with this man came to her attention. His skin, where it touched hers, burned. It was the most natural thing when he bent his head and touched his lips to hers.

  "Oh." A soft exclamation escaped her as he brought a hand around to cup her head. Again, he caught her mouth with his.

  Little Raccoon brought her hands to Walks With The Wind's chest, intending to push him away. She didn't like being caught by surprise no matter how his kisses affected her. The moment she touched a hand to his muscled chest, he deepened his kiss. Moist heat spread like lightning lit flames from her mouth to the very core of her. Instead of pushing him away, she caressed his skin, first hesitantly then with quickening passion.

  Walks With The Wind shifted Little Raccoon so that she sat across his lap. One hand he kept clasped within her soft dark hair. The other hand began to roam her sensuous curves and valleys. His touch was feather light, but where his fingers trailed, fire followed.

  His touch, his kiss, awakened her. The months that overflowed with the bitterness of her marriage, the loneliness of more recent moons, shifted to an infinitesimal speck of time. They vanished with each stroke. Each kiss banished an age.

  It would be an easy thing, Little Raccoon thought feverishly, to straddle him and become one. She gasped as Walks With The Wind found the nub of her femininity. Almost, she gave in. She nearly cried out. Every instinct she owned said this man was meant for her.

  An icy trickle of fear made its way through Little Raccoon's fogged perception. Someone watched.

  At the same time that she froze, Walks With The Wind murmured, "Melodi," and an eagle screamed overhead.

  It was dreadfully wrong. Not with her or him, but with this place.

  Little Raccoon pushed away from Walks With The Wind. He turned desire-clouded eyes on her. She came close to melting at the naked need reflected there. Somehow she resisted. They both need time to cool off. This time was not right for mating, not when she felt other eyes watching from the bushes.

  The eyes she sensed watching them were not innocent. An icy chill of menace rippled through her. She turned to look around.

  Walks With The Wind made a small sound of protest when Little Raccoon lowered herself to the ground, but made no move to stop her. While she straightened her skirt and bent to pick up her game bag, she scanned the surrounding underbrush for signs of the watcher. Her woodland sense told her that whoever had been there was now gone. Gone, leaving behind a taint of danger.

  Walks With The Wind placed gentle hands on her shoulders from behind. She shivered, reaction as much from the desire that rippled between them as from the unseen danger.

  "Did you see someone?" Walks With The Wind asked. His voice thrummed heavy with desire but his hands were steady.

  Little Raccoon nodded, but did not turn around. She feared that she would fling herself into his arms. Not that she couldn't or shouldn't abandon herself to the pleasures she was sure waited for her there. Rather she felt she must explore the deeper feelings he aroused in her. Not now, now the glade made her nervous.

  "I am sure someone watched." She was proud that her voice didn't tremble and hoped her legs would stop shaking soon.

  "And you were embarrassed?" With one deft move, Walks With The Wind turned her back into his arms. He nuzzled her neck. His warm breath caused a repeat of the heat that had devoured her before.

  "Stop. I can't think when you do that."

  His low, deep laughter sent an even sharper thrill through her.

  "Maybe I don't want you to think, just act."

  "You don't understand." She pushed him away, striving for control. She had to make him see that there was more to what was going on between them then mere physical urgings. He was being dense as the
black flies in spring. Even so, she couldn't deny the moan of enjoyment when he brought his lips to hers. "I don't want this with someone watching us," she gasped.

  At last her words made impact. He drew away.

  "You take that side, I'll start over here." He gestured her to the far side of the glade and disappeared into the bushes.

  "Now he takes charge," Little Raccoon grumbled, but slipped between the thorny branches of the raspberry canes to start the search.

  As well as teaching her hunting and snaring skills, Fleet of Foot had given Little Raccoon his knowledge of tracking. An indentation in the soft earth, a broken branch at a certain height, the scat of various animals was a language to Little Raccoon. If someone had been there, she would know.

  Nothing. The moist soil showed only the movements of the four-footed creatures that lived and died there. Walks With The Wind made no sound in the dry bushes either. Even so, Little Raccoon was skilled enough to sense his presence as if he were within touching distance. Her sensitive nostrils quivered as they found his unique scent. She made her way silently to meet him.

  "He knelt here," Walks With The Wind greeted her as he bent over the soft earth. "See? Here is the imprint of his moccasin. This is where his knee touched the ground."

  Little Raccoon bent beside him. She knew the footprints of everyone in her village. This one fit no one. A wisp of fear touched her as a hint of memory flirted with her conscious, then flew away. She shook her head. The source of this footprint eluded her.

  "Many people pass this way. Perhaps there are some new arrivals in the village," was the best explanation she had to offer. "Let's go back."

  "Not yet." Walks With The Wind stopped her. His intent plain to see, in his eyes, in the lump bulging beneath his loincloth.

  Little Raccoon raised a hand to stop him. "The time is not yet ours, Walks With The Wind. You stir me and confuse me. Tell me, what is the word 'Melodi'?"

  Desire died in his eyes, replaced by reproach.

  "For a moment I'd forgotten my purpose," Walks With The Wind mumbled. He took her arm and they walked in the direction of the village.

  "Purpose? Isn't the reason you came here to learn about our tribe and become allies?" Uncertainty edged into her voice. Perhaps he was a spy for the tribes to the west who had ravaged her people in times past.

  "Of course that's true, but something else drew me on besides my father's wish for our peoples to become friends. I have a more personal mission." He needed to gain more trust. Darien decided to tell her something of Walks With The Wind's quest. "The eagle guides me."

  "Are you on a spirit quest?" Little Raccoon guessed. "Something like that," he agreed, though he didn't know if it was her spirit he was trying to save or his own. His was bewitchingly close to being caught by hers. Whether in the future or in this pre-Columbian time, Melodi's/Little Raccoon's soul reached out and touched a chord of need deep within him.

  "Shouldn't you be traveling on then? From the old stories, such a quest requires long journeys and great hardships before an answer is found."

  "I have come a long way already." If she only knew just how far. "The answer is here. You hold the key."

  The village was just beyond the break in the trees ahead. Little Raccoon turned to him. The path narrowed. Little Raccoon frowned. His words troubled her. Anything more truthful would make her go screaming to her father or to the shaman. Any progress he made would be wiped out if she believed that he was an evil wizard spinning a dream spell. Perhaps a little distraction….

  "I've been working on this in my spare time. Tall Cedar promised to teach me how to play it." He brought a wooden flute from his waist pouch.

  To his surprise, Little Raccoon blushed.

  "That is a courting flute. Did Tall Cedar promise to teach you about that, too?"

  Darien grinned. "I think I could teach him a thing or two about courting. Listen for my tune and come to me."

  "Why should I? If you are on a spirit quest, you will not remain here. You will move on. This is my home. I would not lose my heart to someone only to have it taken away." Little Raccoon spoke with wistful conviction. Her words punched Darien low and deep. Did she have such strong feelings for him that his departure would cause her pain?

  In their own time he'd found Melodi attractive at the same time as she bossed him around. This was a softer, more primitive woman. She spoke with pain of losing her heart to him. To his surprise, his own heart expanded. She cared for him.

  "I will not take you away unless you wish to go," he promised, hoping he could keep his vow.

  She smiled up at him. His heart flip-flopped at the sparkling glow in her eyes. Before he could seal it with a kiss, the sound of thudding feet reached their ears. They stepped off the path just as Dancing Feet burst through the trees.

  "Where have you been? Come on, the shaman has set tomorrow as our first day of travel. Plant Growing Woman sent me to look for you."

  Little Raccoon laughed. "I'm glad you didn't find me along my snare line, Dancing Feet. Your noisy passage would have lost me our dinner."

  He blushed at the truth of her remark. "I forgot."

  "Come, now that I know Little Raccoon's trail, you and I will collect her snares and bring them here. You can practice moving like a shadow on the way."

  Little Raccoon nodded her approval at Walks With The Wind's suggestion. His teaching was just what Dancing Feet needed. Not to mention the aura of mystery he carried about him since the incident with the eagle on the lake. Yes, Dancing Feet might just pay attention to him.

  "Be silent but swift," she cautioned them. "There is much to do before the dawn."

  Chapter Twelve

  Courting flutes gave way to journey preparations that night. The full-bellied moon hung high in the sky by the time Little Raccoon collapsed onto her sleeping furs. Her sleep was deep and dreamless and short. She awoke before the dawn. Before breaking her fast, she helped disassemble the wigwam and pack the family belongings into the canoe for the trip across the lake. On the opposite side they would enter the big river that would carry them most of the way to the salt water.

  Every now and then she caught a glimpse of Walks With The Wind. He helped with a grandmother here, or a youngster there. Their gazes would lock for an instant before their attention was called back to the task at hand. It wasn't until they were moving swiftly over the ruffled surface of the lake that they were able to speak to each other. Since she was in charge of him and his general behavior he took the rear paddle in her family's canoe.

  The birchbark craft floated as light as a leaf even though loaded down with furs and dried food and four people. Because of the load in the center of the canoe, Little Raccoon sat with her back inches from where Walks With The Wind knelt. Her father and sister sat in the front.

  "I think I like this arrangement," Walks With The Wind whispered into her ear.

  If she leaned back she would be reclining against his body as he stroked the craft forward.

  "Pay attention to Father," Little Raccoon remonstrated. "It won't do for us to go off course because you are talking to me." His warm breath tickled her ear. She fought off the shiver of delight it promised.

  Walks With The Wind chuckled, set himself closer to her, and applied himself to paddling. Soon the small flotilla entered the mouth of a river which became wide and swift. Even though they would have to leave the river to portage around rapids twice, the band would reach the delta that flowed into the sea by this time tomorrow.

  Rarely did Little Raccoon have time for leisurely thoughts. If Walks With The Wind were not here to wield a paddle, she and Shining Rock would take turns with it. Now that she had the time she often wished for, she wasn't sure she liked the direction her thoughts roamed. She was intensely aware of the man behind her. The heat of the sun, added to the warmth radiating from him, immersed her in a sensual stupor. She had no wish to shake herself free.

  Her thoughts drifted back to the way he had kissed her. His touch had sent a fire alo
ng her limbs just yesterday. Whoever he was, whatever he was, Walks With The Wind knew how to make a woman melt in his arms.

  A tremor shook her as she remembered the feeling of watchful dread that had stopped her from lying with him then and there. A nagging suspicion that she should have known the owner of the footprint they found wouldn't let her go. Definitely from a man's foot, it had been too large for a woman or child, and in a moccasin that was not familiar to her. Yet, the shape of the indentations….

  That's it, the indentation of the little toe showed where it was shorter than normal. The only time she had seen a print like that had been on Young Buck. Her late husband had lost part of a little toe as a child when fooling with a knife.

  Now the sunlit heat stifled. Little Raccoon bolted upright. She'd been reclining against Walks With The Wind's knees. The rhythmic movements of his muscles had lulled her to doze.

  "Sleeping while the rest of us labor?" Walks With The Wind's teasing voice whispered in her ear. The lead canoe pulled under the shadow of a large oak on the near shore. "Is this the first portage passage?" he asked, as Fleet of Foot nodded for him to angle their path to follow the others.

  "What? Oh, yes. But first we will eat a quick meal." Her thoughts about Young Buck distracted her from the proceedings. She wasn't aware that they had landed until Walks With The Wind touched her arm.

  "You are worried, you look like you've seen a spirit."

  "Don't say such things," Little Raccoon whispered. She looked around to make sure their conversation was unobserved. It wouldn't do for the shaman to hear Walks With The Wind joking about spirits. "The footprint we saw yesterday, I know who it belonged to." Her voice dropped even lower so he had to bend his head to hear her. "But he is dead."

  "Hey, you two, if you want to eat before we move on, get out of the canoe. There will be time for that later." Tall Cedar, accompanied by Shining Rock, called to them from the hastily assembled fire. He had befriended Walks With The Wind and was one of the few village people who had not abandoned his easy friendship when the shaman had cast doubt.