Wind Warrior

by Constance O'Banyon

  “Do not think about his threats,” Wind Warrior said. “This should be a happy day.”

  She was trembling, her face paler than usual. He wanted her, more than he had ever imagined. But not this way—not when she was forced to accept him.

  Wind Warrior held out his hand to her and she hesitated before placing her small hand in his. “Trust in me.” He looked as though he wanted to say more, but merely shook his head.

  “I have always trusted you,” she said with feeling.

  “Come, I will take you to your family.”

  As Rain Song walked beside Wind Warrior, her mind was in turmoil. Wind Warrior’s proposal had been so unexpected, she couldn’t separate the many feelings that were churning through her mind.

  Little had she known when she’d awoken that her life would take such a surprising turn before the day ended.

  Broken Lance had been watching the exchange between the brothers and he turned to Tall Woman. “Our daughter has captured the heart of our most honored young warrior. Surely you can now let her go.”

  “I would have her happy,” Tall Woman said with concern. “I believe Wind Warrior will be good to her.”

  “I would have her safe,” Broken Lance stated. “Dull Knife is still a threat. Wind Warrior knows that.”

  “Rain Song will be caught in the middle of the fight that will surely erupt between the brothers. Dull Knife will not take this public humiliation without retaliating.”

  “And our daughter will be the cause,” Broken Lance stated, speaking more as a chief of his people than a father. His eyes narrowed on the couple walking toward them.

  Tall Woman felt as if her heart would break. “I see no happiness on either of their faces. As for our daughter, she has always admired Wind Warrior. I do not know what he feels for her.”

  “He chose her over all others as his woman.” Broken Lance frowned. “Women look for love, and men look for a companionable wife who will toil hard and give him children.”

  Tall Woman laughed. “Your mouth says the words, but your eyes have a different message.”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “That is so.” Broken Lance glanced at the crowd of people who were still enjoying food and companionship. “The match is made. Let our daughter go.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  By now Wind Warrior and Rain Song had reached Broken Lance and Tall Woman. Rain Song looked into her mother’s eyes, searching for guidance. All her mother could manage was a half smile.

  “Your daughter has honored me by accepting me as her husband,” Wind Warrior said politely. “To show how much I value her, I offer you twelve fine horses, six beaver skins, and three buffalo robes.”

  Broken Lance’s eyes widened. “It is a high price.”

  Wind Warrior glanced down at Rain Song, watching for a reaction. She merely stared at the ground. “It is a price to show how much I want to walk beside Rain Song.”

  Broken Lance held the tipi flap open and indicated they should precede him inside. “Let us sit and talk.”

  Tall Woman, as was the custom, sat beside the prospective husband, showing her support of him, although she said nothing. Her worried gaze was on Rain Song, who looked terribly unhappy, although she was trying to conceal it from them.

  After today Tall Woman would no longer have this precious daughter in her tipi, and that thought filled her heart with sadness. She glanced at Wind Warrior. He would be a worthy husband for any maiden. He did their family honor by choosing Rain Song. But more importantly, Tall Woman knew he loved her daughter.

  He had patience.

  He had wisdom.

  And he would need them both.

  Wind Warrior broke the silence when he said, “This happened quickly, but I would like the ceremony to take place tonight so everyone will know your daughter is under my protection.”

  Tall Woman’s eyes met Wind Warrior’s gaze and she knew he was expecting Dull Knife to make more trouble.

  Broken Lance nodded his consent. “It is known you spend most of your time in the mountains. Is that where you will take my daughter?”

  “We will dwell there for a time.” The two men’s gazes locked and they both knew Wind Warrior was taking her away where he could protect her from his brother. “I have prepared a place for her in the mountains. Know this—I will take care of Rain Song. She need never fear anyone, and she will never know a hungry day.” He glanced down at her. “We will return before winter falls, and then we will dwell in the village.”

  Rain Song held her emotions in check—she had to if she was going to keep her sanity. She did not hear half of what was said between Wind Warrior and Broken Lance; she was considering other matters. She did not know how to be a wife. She had been taught everything a young maiden must learn to help her mother, but not how to make a home for a man such as Wind Warrior.

  The rest of the day went by in a blur. Rain Song remembered Fire Wolf clinging to her hand and asking why she must go away. She was only vaguely aware that Tall Woman helped her slip into her finest gown and rebraid her hair, interweaving three white dove feathers in the golden braids.

  She was still in a daze as they later stood before the chief’s tipi, her hand clasped in Wind Warrior’s. In a blur Rain Song saw familiar faces and felt encouraging handclasps as those gathered sanctioned the marriage.

  Her one lucid moment came when White Wing approached, searching her eyes. “You did not tell me this would happen when we spoke this morning.”

  “I did not know at that time.”

  White Wing looked quizzical. “Now that I think about it, you are the right woman for such a warrior. He will make you happy.” She spoke with great sincerity. “I will miss my little Rain Song.” Smiling, she moved away.

  Wind Warrior placed his hand on his new wife’s arm and pulled her against him. Glancing at her, he gave her a smile that made her heart race. “I will wait while you say your good-byes to your family. If we leave right away, we can make it to the base of the mountains before dark.”

  “I am ready,” she told him.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  In a haze of sadness, Rain Song walked inside the tipi and stood quivering before her mother, trying not to cry. Once again, she was being torn from the arms of a family she loved.

  “How can I leave you, my mother?”

  Tall Woman’s arm slid around Rain Song’s shoulders. “When you came to me that first day, I could not imagine caring for you as I had my beloved Blue Dawn. I do not know when I began to think of you as the daughter of my soul. My heart walks with you as a mother, and I will miss your busy hands working at my side.”

  “I feel the same. I…shall…miss all of you.” Her gaze slid to Fire Wolf and she realized he had already been told she was leaving. The child was struggling to be strong. He must not see her cry or those tears glittering in his own eyes would gather on his cheeks.

  She bent down beside him. “Little brother, do not be sad. We will see each other soon.”

  “Who will sing to me if you are not here?” He looked at his mother for answers, his chin at an obstinate angle.

  “We must not be selfish and keep Rain Song to ourselves. It is time for her to have her own family.”

  Fire Wolf shook his head. “Do not go.”

  Rain Song hugged him to her. “Fire Wolf, you will hardly know I am gone before I shall be back.”

  Looking at her glumly, he toddled out of the tipi.

  Tall Woman shook her head. “Your brother has never considered the thought of being separated from you. With the passing of time, he will understand.” “You make it sound like we shall never see each other again.”

  Tall Woman picked up a large doeskin bag and slipped the strap over her daughter’s shoulder. “We will, and soon. Take these things that I have been preparing for you.” She looked into Rain Song’s eyes. “They are things you will need for your new home. Follow your husband, and be a dutiful wife.”

  “I…shall.” Without a backward glance, Rain Son
g thrust the tipi flap aside and stepped outside into the late afternoon heat.

  The sun had painted the sky in crimson. The roar of laughter met her ears and she could see that the games were still occupying many of the Blackfoot warriors.

  Wind Warrior was talking with her father, and he turned to her with a smile. Walking toward her, her new husband took the heavy doeskin bag from her and hoisted it onto his own shoulder.

  Glancing up at her father, Rain Song gave him a shy smile.

  “You have blessed our tipi with your presence, my daughter. Now go and do the same for your husband.”

  She nodded. “I will, my father.”

  Broken Lance’s hand landed on her shoulder. “You will be missed,” he admitted reluctantly.

  Rain Song felt tears building behind her eyes. She could take anyone’s sadness but her father’s. Turning away so neither man would see her tears, she walked purposefully toward the waiting horses. She watched her new husband secure her bag to the packhorse; then he turned to help her mount, his hands lingering at her waist longer than was necessary, as if offering her comfort.

  Chinook sprang to life and ran toward Rain Song’s horse. As they rode away from the village, Rain Song noticed that the wolf fell into step beside them.

  She resisted the urge to turn and look back.

  The sounds of celebration faded behind them as the sure-footed horses picked their way toward the distant mountains. Rain Song had never been in the mountains, although she had often stood gazing at them, thinking of Wind Warrior, and wondering what he did there.

  She heard the rushing water and the wind rustling in the branches of the trees. Wind Warrior was silent and Rain Song had the feeling he had many things on his mind.

  Suddenly he halted his mount and turned to her, pointing toward the sunset. The sky was a blend of red and gold streaks that arched like a rainbow across the western sky.

  It was so beautiful it took Rain Song’s breath away.

  “Perhaps the glorious sunset is nature’s way of blessing our joining,” Wind Warrior said, smiling at her.

  “It is very beautiful,” she replied, meeting his dark gaze. A knot formed in her throat and she glanced away, watching Chinook dash into the underbrush, only to reappear a short time later.

  This was her land, her home, and this was her husband. As she watched Wind Warrior gracefully dismount, her heart leaped into her throat. He was like the wild untamed land—no one owned him, certainly not her.

  He smiled up at her as he tightened the reins on his horse. “When I left the mountain, I prepared a place for us to camp this night. It is not too far ahead.”

  She looked into his eyes. How could he have known before he came to the village today that he would be bringing her back as his wife? Rain Song stared across a deep gorge that looked like a great scar on the land. Her mind was whirling, her thoughts jumbled.

  Had he known before reaching the village that his brother was going to make an offer for her?

  Night was closing in around them, and Rain Song had the feeling she was suffocating. What kind of life would she have living in the wilderness? No matter how it had come about, she belonged to the man who stood before her looking so silent and solemn.

  Wind Warrior turned to gaze at her. “We should ride on.”

  A full moon shone down on the rugged countryside, helping them find their way across rocky gullies and small streams. Rain Song had a feeling her husband could find his way through these foothills blindfolded.

  Wind Warrior suddenly halted, swinging off his horse. “This is where we will camp for the night. I am sorry it is dark because I wanted you to see the beauty nature has given this land.” He lifted Rain Song off her horse and set her firmly on the ground. “You will see it in the morning.”

  Rain Song had the strongest urge to lay her head against Wind Warrior’s shoulder and feel his arms go around her. Her head drifted toward him and she caught herself just in time to jerk back.

  “I will unload the packhorse,” she said, turning away before he guessed what she had been thinking. Her runaway heart was thudding in her chest. Would he take her in his arms tonight and teach her how to be a woman? She did not know whether she wanted him to or not.

  “I will build a fire,” he told her, reaching toward a neat stack of deadwood he had cut the day before.

  Untying the leather rope that secured the supplies, Rain Song removed the buffalo robes from the packhorse. She laid them near the rough face of the cliff so they would be protected from the wind.

  Working silently, Rain Song could feel Wind Warrior watching her, and she wondered what he was thinking. If his thoughts were anything like hers, he would come to her at once and take her in his arms.

  When she had arranged their robes to her satisfaction, she turned to him. “Shall I prepare something to eat?”

  Taking her hand, he guided her toward him. “Since the hour is late, we shall eat dried meat and berries. Will you mind?”

  “I am not hungry.” She could have said her stomach was in upheaval, but she did not. She backed toward one of the robes and sat down cross-legged.

  Wind Warrior opened one of his packs, removing food and handing her a strip of dried buffalo meat. Then he sat quietly beside her.

  For a time they ate in silence. Rain Song did not taste anything she ate—her thoughts were too jumbled, her path to the future unsure.

  “I remember the day you told me you would never accept our ways because you had been torn yet again from your family. But I have watched you over the years accept Broken Lance and Tall Woman as your family.”

  Rain Song handed Chinook a chunk of her meat. Even now she ached to see her Blackfoot family. “Sometimes I cannot even remember the faces of my white family. Is that not strange?”

  She suddenly felt nervous, wanting Wind Warrior to touch her, and at the same time, fearing he would.

  Wind Warrior handed her a water skin and watched her take a drink before he answered. “It is not surprising that you no longer remember what they looked like.” His voice deepened. “You now walk a difficult road, Rain Song. I have seen the strength in you, and I have watched you conquer your fear…until tonight.”

  Her head jerked up and she stared into his dark eyes. “I am just…it is that I do not—”

  “If you have questions to ask me, now is the time.”

  Questions? She had hundreds. “I do not really know you, and you do not know me.”

  “Ah. You think I asked a stranger to be my wife?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I believe you felt honor-bound to save me from your brother.”

  Wind Warrior’s mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. “So you believe I took you as my woman out of some noble motive?”

  She swallowed twice and still could not answer, so she nodded.

  “Allow me to tell you how I really feel, for I want there to be no misunderstanding between the two of us.”

  “That is not necessary.”

  “I believe it is. Every time I came to the village, you were the first one I searched for, and when I saw you playing with the children or working beside the women, my heart was gladdened. I saw your wonderful spirit, and at times I felt your pain.”

  Wind Warrior reached out to her and then allowed his hand to fall at his side. “I wanted to hold the essence of who you are here in my hands so I could always feel you near.”

  Warmth spread through Rain Song’s body, and she felt they were moving onto dangerous ground. Wind Warrior was making love to her without touching her. His eyes swept from her mouth to her neck and paused for a long moment on her breasts, and she blushed.

  “I do not understand,” she said, her voice trembling. His eyes were drawing her in, and she waited for him to take her in his arms.

  “Rain Song, I did not ask you to be my woman out of nobility. I have wanted you for a long time. When I learned my brother’s plans, I merely acted sooner than I had expected.”

  “What is it you want of me
?”

  Now he did smile. “I want to be the center of your world. I want you to think of me as your family. I want to fill you with sons, and place in your belly a daughter who will love life as you do.”

  She gasped and pulled back, afraid of the unknown relationship between husband and wife, but enticed nonetheless by the thought of intimacy with Wind Warrior.

  She wanted him beside her, holding her, making her his woman.

  Wind Warrior realized he had frightened Rain Song with his passionate admission. He could have said more; he could have told her he wanted to touch her hair because he had never seen hair that curled like hers. If he really wanted to frighten her, he could always tell her about the many nights he had lain awake, thinking of pressing his body against hers, of taking her heart into his keeping and hearing her moan his name while he made love to her.

  Instead, he said, “This day has been hard for you. Get some sleep, Rain Song. Tomorrow we climb the mountain.”

  She stilled, turning her head so she could see his face and gauge his feelings. “I am weary.”

  He suddenly gathered her to him, and light as a whisper, his lips brushed her neck, then moved to the curve of her shoulder.

  Rain Song was innocent and unprepared for the feelings that ripped through her body, heating her blood and cutting off her breathing. Her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed herself against him.

  He had intended to win her slowly, but when she reacted so passionately to his touch, he almost lost his ability to think. Nuzzling the lobe of her ear, he whispered, “I ache for you.”

  When she gasped, he abruptly pulled back, staring into her passion-bright eyes. “I have dreamed of doing this and other things too,” he said in a husky voice. “But,” he said, standing, and moving away from her, “I shall give you time to get to know me, as I said I would.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Do not be troubled. I will be as patient as you need me to be.”

  Watching him walk away into the darkness, Rain Song wanted to call him back to her. She ached for him, but she was glad he was making no demands on her tonight.