Spirit of the Lake

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Spirit of the Lake Page 4

by Paty Jager


  Panic choked her. Evil Eyes had taken her in a meadow much like this. She started to fight the hands at her waist.

  He withdrew his hands and sat back on his heels. The concern in his eyes brought shame to her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, brushing back the tears of humiliation. This man would never harm her. He had saved her. Yet she could not shake the fear of a man’s hands on her.

  “No. Do not be sorry. My only thought was to sit you down before you fell. I did not think of what my actions would remind you of.” He held up his hands in a submissive gesture. “I am sorry.”

  How could he even want to help her when she constantly reacted without trust?

  “You are not doing well?” He leaned closer, gazing into her eyes.

  “I cannot keep food down in the morning.”

  “Pe`tuqu`swise says this is normal.” He moved to touch her cheek, dropping his hand before his finger met skin. “But not sleeping will weaken you as well.”

  Her eyes burned from fatigue and stirrings she found harder and harder to control. “When I close my eyes, I see only his cruel face. Such an image does not make me wish to sleep.”

  “Come.” He stretched out on the sweet meadow grass and patted his stomach. “Place your head here and close your eyes.”

  She glared at him. Was this some kind of trap?

  “I will not touch you other than your head resting upon me.” He winked. “And Pe`tuqu`swise is just within shouting. You can call to her at any time.”

  His dark firm belly looked like a fine place to rest her head. And it would give her an excuse to see if he was as solid as he looked.

  She swallowed, indecision tugging her thoughts in many directions. He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Was he playing with her? Did she dare give in to the weariness plaguing her?

  His belly moved up and down in an even rhythm. He did look comfortable. Cautiously, she shifted, lying on her side, and placed her head upon his warm firm stomach. The touch of his hot skin and the firmness of his muscles sent energy coursing through her, filling her with a sense of belonging.

  Warmth and eagerness drifted through her.

  The stirrings of light, companionship, and security Wewukiye evoked weren’t hurtful.

  Her head moved up and down with the pattern of his breathing. The steady motion and the warmth of the sun beating down on them wrapped her in contentment. She drifted to sleep with content thoughts.

  Wewukiye did not sleep. He only pretended to get Dove to relax. Her breath finally came in even puffs, and her chest moved in rhythm. He opened his eyes and gazed down his body to the woman sleeping with her head on his stomach. Her face was even more beautiful when lax. Her lashes fluttered against her round cheeks as she dreamed. The smile curving her lips told him she dreamed of pleasant things.

  That had been his wish when he asked her to place her head upon him. To take away bad dreams and allow her some much needed rest. The moment she had walked into the meadow, he thought she would collapse. Her sunken eyes with dark circles had scared him even before she stumbled.

  Carrying the child was harder on her than he thought it would be. She appeared strong of body and able to carry many children through her lifetime. He had not thought about the way it was conceived nor the harshness of her people. Crazy One talked with him each day. She was fearful Dove would not make it through the birth. After seeing her today, he had the same fears. What could they do to help her? Take away the pressure from the tribe, but how?

  Dove moved, swinging her arm over his chest and murmuring. Her lashes fluttered up and down and her lips formed a grim line. She needed to sleep longer, but from her furrowed brows and down-turned lips, bad dreams came to her.

  He cursed going against his word, but he placed a hand on her back creating soothing circles. He rubbed her back and chanted low, asking the Creator to bring her peaceful sleep so she may awaken feeling refreshed.

  After a short time, she hugged him and snuggled closer, her lips curving upward into a contented smile. An ache in his lower regions stopped his hand.

  Pá-xat

  (5)

  This region of his body had never stirred in the many seasons he walked this earth as a spirit. Why would it be doing so now? In the presence of a mere mortal? Wewukiye shifted, trying to relieve the ache.

  Dove snuggled her head closer. Her soft hair tickled his skin and teased his senses. Need coursed through him, shaking his body and setting his skin on fire. He peered down the length of his body to see if his arousal awakened her. Her even breath whispered across his skin, and her lashes rested against her tawny cheeks.

  Anxiety induced by arousal for this mortal nearly brought him to an upright position. He caught himself as his stomach tightened to sit and willed his muscles and nerves to relax. How could this have happened? He always kept his distance from mortals other than his brother’s children.

  He thought of the loss and grief he’d experienced when his brother, Himiin, became mortal. After Himiin’s marriage to Wren, he and Wewukiye still met and talked. But Himiin immersed himself in the day to day lives of the Nimiipuu and his growing family. His children, all but Crazy One, had scattered to other bands through marriage. As Himiin’s mortal body aged, they no longer took long runs over the mountain or sat up all night counting the stars and wondering how the Creator had chosen them.

  “Is she sleeping?” Crazy One’s voice broke into his disturbing thoughts. He glanced up to find the old woman standing over them. She gave no clue to her thoughts as she stared down at the woman sleeping on his stomach.

  “Yes.” He lowered his voice. “Do you know why she does not sleep well?”

  She looked at him as though he were the one causing Dove’s sleepless nights. “Why does she have a weakness from the child? Is it an evil seed that keeps her awake? Could it be the glances and whispers of her people?” The anger in Crazy One’s eyes softened when her gaze traveled to Dove. “Is she not brave? Why does one so young have to defend herself to the leaders?”

  She turned her gaze on him. “Why must she do this alone?”

  “I told her I was here for her.” The old woman’s scolding bristled his usual good nature. He sought Evil Eyes to learn all he could about the man and decide how they could restore Dove’s honor. He did this to help her, but he had kept his distance from the woman, knowing he had no resistance to her vulnerability.

  And now, here he lay, chasing away her bad dreams and allowing the mortal to sleep on him. Her nearness drew urges and emotions from him that rivaled any he’d ever held. He should not have allowed Crazy One’s pleas to talk with the woman overrule his good sense.

  “Could she not see you every day? Could she not have you to talk with and plan?”

  His heart skipped at the thought of seeing Dove every day. Sa-qan’s warnings were doused by the joy it would bring him to talk with the woman regularly.

  “I could talk with her every day. Here. In this meadow,” he said, knowing Crazy One nudged him closer to the mortal when he should be fleeing.

  “Why only the meadow?” she asked, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

  “What do you mean?” Surely she did not want him to walk into the village with Dove. How was he to explain himself to the elders? He belonged to no tribe. He could bluff this distraught woman, but not the elders of her village. Dove had not asked hard questions. At least not yet.

  “Could you not take her for a walk on the mountain and find her food, make her stronger?”

  Dove rubbed her head on his belly and waves of heat shot through him. His face burned as if he stepped too close to a fire.

  A knowing smile stretched across the old woman’s face. “Is she not woman through and through?”

  “I cannot have thoughts such as those. She is mortal and I—” He left it at that, not wanting the woman slowly rousing from her slumber to hear he was a spirit.

  “Was not my father exactly as you and my mother exactly as she?” C
razy One’s eyes danced with excitement. “Is it not time for the two worlds to come together once more?” She bent down and plucked at something on his shoulder. She straightened, walking away from him. “How should you find me when you bring her back to the village?”

  She disappeared through the brush surrounding the meadow before he could utter a response.

  Dove’s arm slowly moved across his chest, hesitating at his nipple. Her fingers touched the tip, and he grit his teeth. Her drowsy exploration made it extremely hard to keep his thoughts off how much he wanted to explore her body as well. Afraid he would do something to lose her trust, he cleared his throat.

  Her eyelashes rose slightly and settled on her cheeks several times with the effort of one trying to open tired eyes. Her lashes finally rose, revealing fear and uncertainty in her dark brown eyes. Her hand pushed against his body, shoving her from him. She sat back, staring. Her gaze quickly taking in all the details around her.

  He drew his hands from behind his head and sat. “My hands stayed behind my head as you slept.” The circles under her eyes had lightened in color.

  She scanned the area around them. “Where is Crazy One?”

  “She just headed back to the village. She saw you were sleeping well and asked me to bring you back when you woke.” Her stomach growled and he added, “After I find you something to eat.”

  “It will not stay down.” She placed her hands over her belly. “The evil seed in me has not allowed food to stay in my stomach. It is as if it wishes to die.”

  “Or you wish it to die?” Her gaze met his straight on, and he saw the truth shining before him. “If the child within dies, you would not have the proof you need to catch Evil Eyes in his lies.” Wewukiye watched the parade of emotions marching through her eyes and across her face. “You will keep food down and bring this child forth.” He gazed deep into her eyes and continued. “The thing you so despise is the one thing that can help set you free. I wish you to be free.”

  Her intake of breath and startled look in her eyes, told him she had not totally believed him before. Crazy One was right, he did need to spend more time with Dove to give her hope her future would not always be as a traitor to her people.

  He stood, holding out a hand to her. She stared into his eyes and gradually raised her hand and allowed him to take it. He helped her to her feet. She swayed and he moved next to her. She stiffened, but did not pull away as he put an arm around her to steady her weak legs. Her acceptance of his touch and help was encouraging.

  “I know of a patch of sweet, ripe berries not far from here,” he said, walking at a pace she could easily handle. The slow pace would normally have irritated Wewukiye, but with this woman tucked against his body, he savored every minute of their unhurried steps.

  At the berry bushes, he settled her on a downed tree and picked the small juicy strawberries a bear had yet to find.

  “Why do you help me so?” she asked, as he dumped a handful in her lap.

  He sat on his heels in front of her, making him the same height as the woman seated on the log. He stared into her eyes a moment, seeing no fear he placed a hand over hers. “Carrying you out of the lake I knew something terrible had happened to make a Nimiipuu try to take her life.” He pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and peered into her dark brown, guarded eyes. It pleased him she did not pull away from his touch or show fear in her eyes. “When I saw the bruises, I could think of no way you could have gotten them yourself.” She flinched and half-heartedly tugged at the hand he still held. He squeezed and let go, knowing he would always have to let her go when she pulled away.

  “After you told me of Evil Eyes and how your people responded, I could not walk away and let you face your future alone.”

  She turned her head, to hide the tears trickling down her cheeks.

  “You will never be alone as long as you wish my help.”

  The warmth and caring in his deep voice drew Dove’s gaze back to his. How could a man who had not met her until she tried to end her life, believe in her stronger than any who had known her since birth?

  She brushed at the tears of hope tickling her cheeks and studied the man watching her intently.

  “We may never prove Evil Eyes’s treachery.”

  He nodded and said, “But if we don’t try, no one will ever know what he did to you and what he plans for our people.”

  “You want to go on, knowing we may never prove his disloyalty to the Lake Nimiipuu?” She found his resolve for her plight encouraging.

  “If we do not try, we will never be able to lift our heads. By trying, we are showing courage and conviction. Bringing honor to ourselves and, if they listen, to the Lake Nimiipuu.”

  Dove pushed a berry between her lips. She rolled it around on her tongue, savoring the sweetness. Her stomach growled. Dare she swallow or would the food come up as it had in the last seven suns.

  “Do not worry about what will happen. Savor the food and know it will make you strong, and we can begin gathering the information to set you free.” Wewukiye moved off to pick more berries. His smooth gait and long legs carried him quickly away from her. Loose blond hair hid half of his long straight back. He carried his head with great pride. Not only was he pleasant to look at from the front, but the back as well.

  Her face heated, and she reprimanded herself for such thoughts. He may know how she was violated and show compassion, but no man would ever want her for a wife. If so, it would only be as a worker and never to hold and care for. Her heart squeezed. All her life she’d dreamed of a man holding and caring for her. In return for his devotion, she could give him strong children.

  The man picking berries only wanted to help her prove to her people the White man was not their friend. She would do well to remember this. To hold feelings for this man other than as a companion and helper would only cause her more pain. She needed to focus on the outcome of the birth of the child and gathering information that would show Evil Eyes’s dark side to her leaders before it was too late.

  She swallowed the berry and quickly poked several more in her mouth. Dove closed her eyes and dreamed of the day she could walk among her people, head held high, and embrace the honor of freeing them from Evil Eyes’s spell. Her stomach clenched and churned rejecting the food.

  Something brushed her face. She lashed out with her arms, striking a solid object and registered the slap of skin against buckskin. She opened her eyes. Wewukiye stood in front of her, gazing down, his brow furrowed.

  “Lie down,” he commanded.

  Dove shook her head. Why would he want her to lie down?

  He scooped up the berries still in her lap and pointed to the grass at her feet. His commanding presence did not scare her. He proved on enough occasions that he would not harm her.

  “Lie down.” He knelt and waved his hand above the grass beside the log. “I will help your body keep the food.”

  She continued to watch him carefully while slipping from the log and lying down on the ground. He placed the berries in her hands.

  “Eat these as I chant.”

  She placed one in her mouth, never allowing her eyes to stray from his face.

  He placed a hand on her stomach. The warmth and soft touch did not revolt like the touch of the Evil Eyes. She flinched when he started making circles with his hand.

  “My touch will never cause you harm,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

  Dove gazed into his eyes and knew he spoke the truth.

  His voice floated to the sky as he chanted and swirled circles on her belly with his large hand. The gentle motion and warmth along with the deep tone of his voice soothed her stomach and her fears. One by one she placed the berries in her mouth and swallowed. With each piece of nourishment a new surge of energy filled her body.

  His hand remained light, yet heat penetrated her deer skin dress warming her body. The last berry disappeared between her lips, and she swallowed its sweet goodness. She watched him. His long light lashes hovered o
n his dark high cheeks, hiding his eyes from her. His deep voice continued chanting. The long hard muscles of his arms bulged, contrasting with the gentleness of his touch.

  “I have finished the berries,” she whispered, fearful of disrupting his chant.

  His eyes slowly opened, and he smiled down at her. “You must remain this way for a short time.” His hand rested on her belly as he shifted to sit cross-legged beside her.

  The intimacy of his touch scorched her cheeks.

  “What if someone comes along? These actions will give people false ideas.” She glanced at his hand and back to his eyes, shining with good humor.

  “You would not like to have your name linked with mine? Am I so ugly or foul you do not wish others to know of me?” he said, a glimmer of mischief lighting his eyes.

  “How will the elders believe Evil Eyes violated me if they see me with another? They will think the child growing within me is yours.” Heat surged through her body at the thought of this man and his gentle touch giving her his seed. If it had been he, the event would be joyous.

  “I have thought of this, too. It would take away the whispers of the village, but make the elders think you told untruths about the so-yá-po.” He lifted his hand from her. “We will meet every time the sun is directly overhead. Here.”

  Her heart fluttered with hope. His help would surely get her through this hard time.

  “Bring food, and I will help you keep it down. We will also make plans for Evil Eyes. I have found his lodge.”

  Dove sucked in her breath. She knew he lived in the valley, but had not known where. Did she want to? Anger took over her good sense. She wanted to know where the foul man lived. Perhaps she could find answers there.

  “Where is this?” she asked, a little too forcefully.

  Wewukiye’s eyebrow raised. “You do not need to go near the man.”

  “We could learn things watching and listening.”

  “Do you speak their language?” He watched her as if she were a child.

 

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