He did not know if the water on her eyelashes were tears or from swimming. “There would be no sharing, Black Horse, if I could stay. If I could be your wife. But I can’t. I have to go to California.”
As much as he wanted her to stay, he could not force her. It would take away her spirit and he did not want that. Yet he could not understand why she still wanted to leave when she was happy here. “To get your much money?”
She nodded, but then shook her head. “It’s more than that. Always has been.”
A frown still pulled on her face. “I told you once that I thought I was being followed.”
“Black Horse will—”
She pressed a hand to his lips, stopping his words. “I know you will protect me. And that is why I must go. I’m still afraid. Money means a lot to my mother and Douglas. If they find out about my money in California, they will find me. They will do whatever they have to in order to get that money. I know they will.”
The idea of her being hurt again was like an arrow shot in his side. “I will not let them.”
“You will not be with me. You cannot be with me. I know them. They will find me. The only way I can stop them is with money. After that...” She shrugged. “After that I will be free to...” Tears dripped from her eyes as she shook her head. “I wish...”
His throat burned and he squeezed her hands tighter. He could not say he would go with her. He could not go to this place called California. “A part of me will go with you,” he said quietly, hoping she could understand that. “A part of me will always be in your heart, just as a part of you will always be in mine.” He had never spoken truer words. She filled his heart with much love. More love than he had ever known, and he had to stand by her decisions. Even if his vision had shown him a different path.
There was no more to say. He pulled her against his chest and kissed her. The taste, the feel of her lips against his was like honey still warm from the sun, and filled him with a great and powerful desire. One he could no longer hold at bay.
* * *
Black Horse was masterful in everything he did, including kissing. Lorna went weak in the knees and clutched on to his waist. Like the rest of him it was full of muscles, and hard, yet sleek and smooth beneath her fingertips. She found herself surrendering to him long before he gently lowered her onto the cave floor, where the coolness of the rocks was a blessing to her heated skin.
He’d already removed her shift during their kissing that had turned into a battle of lips and tongues that had left them both gasping and going back for more. Her pantaloons were gone as well, and when Black Horse pressed the heel of his palm against her center, a pleasure-filled moan escaped her lips. He’d long ago aroused her, with his kindness, his laughter, his protection and most of all his trust. She held no fear or shame. There wasn’t room for such things in her heart or her mind. Not when it came to him.
“I must claim what is mine, Poeso,” he whispered next to her ear, after kissing the length of her neck. “But will not if you do not want—”
“I want,” she interrupted in a moment of panic. The flesh beneath her fingers was slick and hot, and not touching him right now could very well be the death of her. “I want you to claim me. I want you.”
The pressure of his hand between her legs increased, moving in such a way her hips rose off the floor, as if begging for more. She was. She wanted him, all of him, in the way a woman gave herself to a man. It was what she’d wanted for weeks, but hadn’t fully understood it until now.
His kisses continued, down her neck, over her shoulders, across her breasts. Her body responded to his every touch, arching upward, welcoming his hands, his mouth. When at last he eased her legs farther apart and entered her, she was so feverish with want and desire that beads of sweat dripped from her temples.
She looped her legs around his and rose up to meet his forward thrust, and at that moment, when they truly became connected, she gazed into his eyes. There was great joy and passion looking back at her, but there was more. Call it trust, call it love; in her heart, in the deepest part of her very being, she knew what she saw. The great leader of Tsitsistas, the great buffalo hunter, the warrior Black Horse, had just been conquered. By her, a simple white woman. And was doing so willingly, as if he desired it as much as she did.
He often seemed to be able to read her mind, and now was no different. “I am yours, Poeso,” he whispered.
“And I am yours, Black Horse.”
Chapter Fourteen
To Lorna’s great delight, they stayed in the cave for hours. Resting and loving, and resting again. At one point, when he asked if he’d hurt her, she snuggled against him and assured him he had not. He truly hadn’t, and she couldn’t imagine why he’d have asked such a thing. In fact, it wasn’t until they were about to leave that her mind tumbled and caught. Not once had she thought of her stepfather and that awful night.
Reaching out, she cupped Black Horse’s square jaw and held his face while she kissed him soundly. “There was a time,” she whispered against his lips, “that I thought this would never happen. That I would never be able to have a man touch me, but you made me forget everything. I thought of nothing but you.”
He kissed her forehead. “You thought of what is in your heart.”
She took a moment to contemplate that. Douglas may have stolen her virginity that night, but he had not taken the things that really mattered. Trust and love. Those were hers alone to give as she chose, and she had chosen. Chosen to trust and love Black Horse with all her heart.
“Heehe’e,” she answered. “I did. Thank you for making my heart whole again.”
He shook his head. “It was always whole. I just helped you see that.” She gathered up her clothes with one hand, and he took her other. “Come. It will be dark soon.”
Their exit was faster than their entrance. Holding hands, they jumped through the waterfall, and parted only long enough to swim to the shore. Then hand in hand they traipsed over the rocks and down to the other pool, which they once again swam across. She’d never swum naked before, nor had she ever felt so carefree. So happy and content, and she kept glancing at Black Horse, wondering if he felt the same way. His smile was bright and the shimmer in his eyes increased her giddiness. If someone had told her she’d find happiness here, in the middle of nowhere with a man some referred to as a savage, she’d have laughed right in their face. Or gotten angry and told them that would never happen to her. That would have been more true to form for her old self. That was how it seemed lately, as if there was an old Lorna, and this new one. She liked being the new one far more than the old one, but was confused because the two couldn’t be the same person. They wanted different things. Needed different things. What if she became the old Lorna again when she left? She wasn’t sure she could bear that.
Or would she? There was no anger inside her. No retaliation. The past, what had happened to her no longer mattered. There wasn’t room inside her for such things. Her heart was too full.
Getting dressed on the banks of the pool took far more time than it should have. Black Horse was relentless with his teasing and kissing, neither of which she minded. They were both laughing as they ran to the horses that had waited patiently in the shade of the trees. Black Horse helped her mount, and after one more kiss, he swung onto Horse and they started down the hill.
Anticipation rode along with Lorna. She would not be sleeping across the lodge floor from Black Horse tonight. The thrill of that remained with her as they rode across the prairie toward where the new village lay.
The sun was dropping low in the sky, but it was still warm and her dress felt confining after being free of it for much of the day. Or perhaps it was the thought of taking it off again that made her so warm. It was as if her insides were glowing. A tiny part of her mind asked why she wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed at what had happened—an old part of her. The new part smiled and silently said there wasn’t anything to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Nothing had ever felt mo
re natural, more real in her entire life.
“You are happy, Poeso.”
“Heehe’e,” she answered, “My heart is happy. I am happy.”
“This is a good thing,” he said with a nod and smile.
“Heehe’e,” she agreed. The smell of campfires and roasting meat filled the air. Glancing his way, she urged Patches into a faster lope. “And I’m hungry.”
When the children raced out to meet them, she greeted them with the happiness filling her. It was wonderful to be welcomed home, and pride found room among her joy to rise up inside her as she rode alongside Black Horse all the way to the center of the village.
Their lodge had been erected, with everything completely in order, and soon the entire family was inside, sharing a meal. Conversation flowed easily. Out of choice, Lorna remained quiet. The waterfall had been beautiful and her friends would love to hear about it, but it was her and Black Horse’s special place, and she wasn’t ready to share even the tiniest bit of that.
Most nights, after the meal, the men gathered in groups, smoking and talking, but Black Horse made no effort to join them that evening. He seemed as anxious as she to be alone together in the lodge.
When that did happen, her anticipation was so high it felt as if her insides were twisted in knots.
Slowly, softly, Black Horse pushed her hair away from her face while looking her straight in the eye. “You will sleep on my robes this night.”
“I will like that,” she answered, keeping her eyes locked with his. “I will like that very much.”
“You are a strong woman, Poeso.”
She appreciated the compliment, and admitted, “It took a strong man to make me so.” The slight furrowing of his brows had her adding, “You made me strong. Before you I was weak.”
He shook his head.
“I was,” she maintained. “I acted strong, but I wasn’t. I was just scared, and I didn’t trust anyone.”
His hands spanned her rib cage and his thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. The tingling of her skin was as powerful as when she’d been wearing nothing. He pulled her close, and as she laid her cheek against his bare chest she felt him shudder slightly, as if her touch gave him the same thrill his did her. She wrapped her arms around him, and twisted her face in order to nuzzle his chest and kiss his satin skin. The musky wonderful scent of him filled her nose, and suddenly she was hotter than when the sun had been blazing down.
She lifted her head in order to meet his lips, and lost herself in his kisses. Although she had no idea how many hours they’d spend in each other’s arms, she knew she’d never forget this night. The moon, big and bright, shone down through the top of the lodge and illuminated the hide walls as Black Horse teased and coaxed her body into responses that left her gasping for air while begging for more. His passion was as relentless as ever, and didn’t stop until she was so sated, so exhausted, she couldn’t have lifted a finger if the lodge had been burning down around them.
He was also as kind as ever, holding her close as she drifted into dreams full of tranquility. When she awoke to the same moon still shining upon them, as aroused as he, she rolled onto her back, welcoming him to once again take her.
They couldn’t have slept much, but when daylight broke, and she rolled over, the smile on his face filled her with more vigor than if she’d slept for a day or more. Her excitement remained as the entire village packed up for the day of traveling. The faster they moved out, the faster they’d find the place they’d camp tonight, and that was what she was looking forward to.
Her friends would not understand what she was experiencing, and she was glad her position of riding next to Black Horse as they headed out meant she didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. As The Woman Who Sleeps in Black Horse’s Lodge, she was untouchable and she liked that.
They day’s travel was longer than the one before, however, they found a lush valley by midafternoon and the rebuilding started as soon as the first horses came to a stop. Lorna busied herself helping others, waiting for the wagons that traveled near the middle of the long procession, until she saw Black Horse wander toward the river.
She caught up with him several feet from the bank, and leaned against his side when he took her hand. “This is a pretty place.”
“You say that everywhere we camp.”
“I know, but it’s true. I never noticed the beauty of the land while we were traveling by ourselves. There was too much to do, too many other things on my mind.” Waving a hand toward the water, she said, “How do you always know where to go? Each day you find the perfect place. Plenty of water, wood, protection from the wind.”
* * *
Looking down at the face smiling up at him, Black Horse’s heart had never been so full. The weight on his shoulders had never been so heavy, either. He had not told Poeso the fort was only a short ride over the hill. The desire to spend many nights with her was powerful, and he did not want... A heavy sigh left his lungs. He did not want her to go. Did not want their time together to end. Last night, while holding her close, he’d thought about battling the white men, just to keep her here. When he had accepted the position to lead his people, he had vowed never to put them in danger because of his own wants, yet that was what he had considered last night.
“The Cheyenne have lived here for a long time,” he said, turning his gaze to the land. It did not pull at his spirit as usual. Only Poeso did that now. She had changed him, and that did not anger him.
“So these places you’ve chosen, you’ve stayed at them before?”
“Heehe’e.”
“Including the waterfall?”
His heart thudded as he replied, “Heehe’e.” The desire for her that had grown stronger each day flared brightly, and he was about to pull her close when shouts sounded behind them.
Disappointment crossed her face as she turned toward the camp. “The wagons have arrived.”
He noticed that, but also saw Rising Sun riding toward them. Black Horse instantly knew why, and the knowledge made his stomach churn.
“What is he saying?”
There was no need for him to answer. Rising Sun was now close enough for her to hear for herself.
“Soldiers are coming?” she asked. “What soldiers?”
Once again, there was no reason for him to answer. She knew and the sadness in her eyes filled his chest.
Soldiers had never ridden out to welcome them upon arrival before, and that was not why they were heading for the village now. “Come,” he said. “We must greet them.”
“I don’t want to greet them,” she replied while walking beside him to where Rising Sun had stopped his horse.
Despite his dread, Black Horse grinned at her honesty before he used his native language to ask Rising Sun how many soldiers were coming. When Poeso frowned upon the warrior’s answer of a dozen, Black Horse wished she had not learned the Cheyenne language so quickly and thoroughly.
After dismissing Rising Sun with a wave, Black Horse turned to her. “Go to the wagons.”
“Why?” Her frown increased. “A moment ago you said we were going to greet the soldiers. Why are you sending me away now?”
“Go, Poeso. Now.”
She pushed his chest with both hands. “Don’t tell me what to do!” Turning her angry glare toward the hill where a dozen horses were raising a plume of dust, she added, “No one will tell me what to do ever again.”
He was proud of her determination, but also feared that someday it would cause more trouble for her. He would never tell her that, but he would always protect her, even when he could not see her. “Listen to Black Horse, Poeso. Go.”
When she opened her mouth to protest again, he waved at Stands Tall to take her away. She hissed, and struggled against Stands Tall’s hold, but soon was behind the line of warriors standing several feet behind him.
Alone, as he should be, Black Horse turned and moved forward to meet the soldiers now galloping their horses across the valley floor.
>
Crazy Hawk was with the soldiers, riding an army horse instead of a pony. The Crow warrior had become an interpreter for the soldiers many seasons ago. Fluent in several of the tribal languages, including Cheyenne and Sioux, as well as English, Crazy Hawk was known for not translating fairly for either side. One more reason Black Horse did not want it known he understood and spoke the white man’s language. Some thought he could read minds. He liked that. It gave him more power against the white man’s tricks.
“My brother,” Crazy Hawk said in Cheyenne. “It has been a long time.”
“Heehe’e.” Continuing in Cheyenne, Black Horse said, “I see you are still talking for the soldiers.”
“Someone has to help the poor fools,” Crazy Hawk answered with a chortle. He turned toward the yellow-haired man on the horse beside him to say in English, “This is the mighty Black Horse. Leader of this band of Cheyenne. He welcomes the soldiers to his village.”
Although he did not welcome the soldiers, Black Horse made no comment. Crazy Hawk was correct in calling the soldiers fools. No band welcomed them, nor understood why they followed orders from faceless leaders many miles away. Those men they called Government and claimed they wanted peace. A leader who wanted peace should speak for himself, not send soldiers.
“Tell him I am Sergeant Hudson, and that I have heard of Black Horse.”
As soon as Crazy Hawk repeated what the man had said, Black Horse asked, “What do they want?”
“I—we—we’ve come for the white women they’ve captured,” the army man answered the question after Crazy Hawk repeated it.
Black Horse lifted his chin and replied in Cheyenne. “We captured no one.”
Crazy Hawk repeated his words in English before nodding. “I told them The Horse Band did not capture women, but they didn’t believe me,” Crazy Hawk said. “Some white man said you fished his woman out of the river. Stole her from him. And that you tried to scalp him.”
Black Horse ignored the last sentence. All knew the Cheyenne did not take scalps. However, he gave a slight nod. “I did take her out of the river, but stole her from no one. She is now Black Horse’s.” Claiming Poeso as his would raise questions, but he was not ashamed of loving her.
Her Cheyenne Warrior (Harlequin Historical) Page 19