Savage Arrow

by Cassie Edwards

  To her surprise, when Thunder Horse had led her back to the camp after the hunt, she had found many women from his village there, awaiting the arrival of the hunters.

  They had come during the hunt and prepared the meat racks, which were ready now for the fresh meat. A fine bed of coals had also been prepared to cook the meat.

  Fat ribs of deer were now roasting over these coals, and the dripping fat was popping and snapping, sending up a tantalizing aroma.

  Jessie’s attention was drawn to the sight of more warriors and their packhorses entering the camp. The meat was folded inside skins on the packhorses, with the large bones tied on top to be broken later for the sweet marrow.

  She turned and watched for Thunder Horse’s return. He had left a short while ago to go to the top of a hill, where he would leave a gift of gratitude—the finest cut of meat taken today. This offering was made to their brother, the deer, because so many of the deer’s relations had died to feed the Sioux, who would one day also die and feed the grasses the deer fed from.

  That had touched Jessie’s heart, to learn that the Indians never took anything without giving back. Oh, if only all white people could be as grateful for what they had received from heaven above. Instead, it seemed that many of her own people were greedy and never seemed to have enough.

  Reginald was the worst of that kind. She felt so grateful that she was no longer a part of his life. She dearly hoped that he would not find her and try to ruin her life again. She had found a home among these Sioux people, thanks to the generosity of one man: Thunder Horse.

  She had never met anyone as kind and giving.

  Although her parents, and also her husband, had always thought of others before themselves, Thunder Horse was even more generous.

  She thought back to this morning, when Jessie had awakened in Thunder Horse’s lodge, where she had slept snugly wrapped in blankets across the fire from him. She had found him kneeling beside her, watching her sleep.

  He had bent low and kissed her, yet he did nothing more than that. Then she had noticed what he had draped across his arms: the clothing of a Sioux warrior.

  When he had explained to her that she must wear these garments in order to disguise herself in case Reginald Vineyard was out searching for her, she had willingly dressed in the fringed breeches, shirt, and moccasins.

  She had sat in front of him as he braided her hair into one long braid down her back; then she had turned and smiled as he placed a beaded headband around her head.

  She had departed for the hunt mounted on one of his horses. The beautiful white steed she had brought from Reginald’s corral remained safely hidden in case her cousin came to the village.

  Thanks to Thunder Horse’s precautions, she had felt quite safe as she witnessed the hunt. She had been impressed by the skills of the hunters and the clever way they had brought down the deer.

  As they had left the village, Thunder Horse had explained that there was a place the Sioux called the Deer Run. It was to this place that the Deer Dreamer, with his mysterious powers and medicine, sent the deer for the Sioux people. There the hunters could easily kill all the deer that were needed for meat and skins.

  She had discovered that the Deer Run was an un-wooded space on the bank of a river. This bank was high and steep, and at its foot the river ran dark and deep. No deer would dare leap from this bank.

  She had sat back on her horse and watched as the warriors cut a path through the woods up to the clearing on the riverbank. On the forest side of the clearing, the woods were thick, and the limbs and boughs were interlaced to form an unbreakable fence that the deer could not penetrate. This had left but one entrance to the deer enclosure.

  The warriors then rode in a great circle until they found a herd of deer. Steadily and slowly, they directed the deer toward the path that led to the enclosure.

  Soon the deer were within the enclosure. The warriors had a great hunt, taking back to camp much meat, and many skins to be tanned for garments.

  And as soon as all the warriors came in with their loads of meat, there would be a feast. Tomorrow they would return home so that the women could smoke the meat and tan the hides. No one would be without food or clothing during the long, cold months of winter.

  Thinking about the winter ahead made Jessie think of something . . . someone . . . else. She placed a gentle hand on her stomach. She knew that when Thunder Horse learned about her child, it would not change how he felt about her. She and her unborn baby would have a safe, warm shelter this winter.

  Yes, she knew that Thunder Horse, whose heart was filled with love and caring, would not turn away from her because she carried another man’s child. The child was born of a rare sort of love. She and Steven had cared deeply for one another, but theirs had not been a passionate love, only one that was comfortable and respectful.

  When she was with Thunder Horse, passions she’d never known could exist were awakened inside her. She felt a wondrous thrill to imagine how it would be the first time they made love. It would be something she would cherish forever and ever. . . .

  She had become so lost in thought, she hadn’t heard Thunder Horse come up behind her. He sat down beside her on the thick pallet of blankets a short distance from the fire.

  “It is done,” he said, reaching over and sliding a stray lock of her hair back from her brow. “I have thanked the deer for all they have given us today.”

  “It seemed to be a good hunt,” Jessie said as she scooted closer to Thunder Horse. She noticed that he was fresh and clean from a bath in the river.

  “My warriors are skilled hunters. They can smell a deer before the deer smells them,” he said. “Every boy hunts from his fourth or fifth year of life, first chasing rabbits with a bow and wooden arrow, and later with larger bows and arrows that are strong enough to kill a deer or an antelope. He learns to creep upwind, slowly, with no more stirring than a bull snake easing up on a gopher in the grass. Those young boys grow up into the finest of hunters, men of patience, guile, and speed.”

  “Do you hunt often?” Jessie asked, wondering how often Thunder Horse would be gone from home after they were married.

  Yes! She did believe they would be married! Although such a union was taboo among whites, she could not imagine life now without Thunder Horse.

  “There is more than one fall hunt,” Thunder Horse patiently explained as he stared into the leaping flames of the fire, his stomach reacting to the smell of the meat cooking over the coals.

  “There is first the deer hunt, and then the hunt for buffalo to provide the heavily furred robes that keep us warm against the blizzard winds. The buffalo also give us beds and winter lodge floors and linings, in addition to the fat meat and the tallow for cooking,” he said. “Fall also brings ducks and geese to hunt. Then during even the longest winter there are rabbits to be snared and trapped.”

  He stopped to nod a quiet hello to other warriors who had come from their baths in the river and were settling down around the fire, anticipating the food that would soon be offered by their wives.

  Then he smiled at Jessie and continued describing the hunt. “After the midsummer hunt, the jerky hardens fast and sweet in a few hours of hot wind, and hides are easily cleared of their thin summer fur for lodge skins, saddlebags, shield and regalia cases,” he said. “When we hunt the buffalo, young cows are selected. The skins are lighter and thinner, softer and easier to tan and handle; the meat is better, too, more tender and fat-veined.”

  He was interrupted when a maiden brought a large wooden platter of food, which he would share with Jessie.

  Jessie gazed at it, not recognizing anything on it.

  Yet knowing that she must not be rude, nor appear to doubt what was being offered her by the Sioux, she eagerly took a piece of meat and ate it as everyone else sat down to enjoy the fruits of their long day’s labor.

  Jessie gazed around her, noticing how happy everyone was, the women now sitting with their husbands, eating and laughing.

/>   She noticed that no children were there. When she asked why, Thunder Horse told her that they were home with the elders, as were the warriors who had been assigned to remain in the village to protect the old as well as the young.

  She noticed that Sweet Willow wasn’t among the women and knew that she would be caring for White Horse in Thunder Horse’s absence.

  She knew that Thunder Horse’s mind drifted often to his father; White Horse seemed to worsen now more each day. Thunder Horse had told her that the day was coming soon now when his father would be put to rest among the other great chiefs of their Fox clan.

  “I have prepared a place for us to sleep separate from this camp,” Thunder Horse said softly into Jessie’s ear, causing her to turn and gaze into his dark eyes.

  “Will you come with me?” he asked. “Will you sleep with me?”

  “Do you mean . . . sleep separate as we have slept in your tepee at the village?” Jessie asked softly. Yet already she guessed the answer to her question from the look in his eyes, a look of love and need, which matched what she felt within her own heart for him.

  “No, not separate,” Thunder Horse said, shoving the empty platter aside. “I wish for you to share my blankets alongside me tonight. I prepared a special place for us after giving thanks for the hunt to my brother deer.”

  “You already prepared it?” Jessie asked, her eyes wide, her pulse racing.

  She was feeling a sensation between her thighs that she had never felt before. It was a pressure of sorts, yet felt strangely delicious.

  She had been told by friends how it felt to sleep with a man when one was deeply in love. The feelings that were being awakened inside her were surely what they had been talking about.

  Her heart pounded. Her knees were strangely weak.

  She wasn’t sure if she could walk, even if she tried to go with him to this place he had made just for them—a lovers’ lair!

  When she had made love with her husband, she had never felt like this. She had just wanted to give him satisfaction because of his kindness toward her, his willingness to take her in when she had no one else to go to.

  She had never shared the excitement she knew he felt. His pleasure had been evident in his hard breathing and the pounding of his heart as he thrust himself inside her.

  And then at the end! He had seemed to enter another world as he groaned and moaned with pleasure.

  She had wanted to feel the same things he felt, but she just didn’t. She was a woman doing her womanly duty, that was all.

  Now she was a woman who truly anticipated being fulfilled in the most wondrous ways by the most wondrous man of all!

  “Ho, I have prepared a place for us to spend the night together,” he said hoarsely, his eyes searching hers. “The fire is built. The blankets are spread. Will you come with me?”

  Her pulse racing, everything within her crying out for these upcoming moments with the man she would always love, she nodded. She took his hand as he offered it to her.

  “Come then,” he said huskily, rising to his feet and drawing Jessie up with him.

  She didn’t look around to see if anyone was paying heed to what their chief was doing. Feeling as though she were walking on clouds, she left the camp with him.

  They walked only a short distance before she saw a small campfire up ahead, where a cozy nest had been made of blankets against an upcropping of rock. A slight bluff reached out just above them, providing a roof of sorts.

  Suddenly Thunder Horse stopped and turned to Jessie. He swept her up into his arms and carried her onward to the camp. He kissed her as he leaned low and placed her atop the blankets.

  “Techila—in my language that means, ‘I love you,’ ” he whispered against her lips. “I have wanted you from the moment I first saw you. I want you for my mitawin, for always.”

  “I want you as much,” Jessie murmured, overwhelmed by the emotions exploding within her.

  As he kissed her he slowly removed her clothes until she lay splendidly nude beneath him. He quickly tore off his own clothes so that nothing remained between them.

  He stretched out above her, his arms around her, nestling her close. Then he drew back a little, so his eyes could gaze into hers. He kissed her again, this time even more passionately, his hands going over her body, touching and awakening her every pleasure point.

  She sighed and melted beneath his caresses, and soon learned that the man was not the only one who should receive something wonderful from lovemaking.

  Thunder Horse was tender. His mouth was sensuous, not only as he kissed her lips, but also as he pressed them to her throat.

  She clung to him as the very nearness of him shot desire through her. And when he came into her, filling her with his magnificence, his heat so thrilling inside her, delicious shivers of desire raced across her flesh.

  As he enfolded her within his solid strength, she spread herself more open to him. He came to her, thrusting deeply, each thrust sending a message to her heart that he loved her without question.

  Sheer happiness bubbled deep within her as he leaned low and kissed one breast and then the other, then sucked a nipple between his teeth, gently chewing.

  She ran her fingers through his thick black hair, then down his solid, muscular back until she reached his buttocks. She spread her fingers across his tightness, pressing him even more closely to her as he stoked the fires within that had never burned until tonight.

  Thunder Horse’s passions, which had lain smoldering just below the surface, burst out tonight. They exploded within him as he felt the curl of heat growing, his world melting away in a passion he’d never known could exist between a man and a woman.

  Her groans of pleasure fired his passion even more as he continued to stroke within her. His eyes were glazed, drugged with rapture, as he paused long enough to look down at her.

  “We were meant to be together,” he said huskily, a hand at her hair, brushing it back from her face. “I have waited a long time for you. Now I can never let you go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Jessie breathed out, sucking in a breath of rapture when he again kissed her. His body thrust deep, taking her to a plateau of feelings that soon exploded into a million sparks of light. She clung to him as he reached that same place, then rolled away from her and lay on his back, breathing hard.

  “I still feel you inside me,” Jessie said, laughing softly, for she did still throb where the feelings she had never experienced before had spread like fire.

  “And I still feel as though I am,” Thunder Horse said. He gazed at her as she closed her eyes, still smiling into the darkness of night. “My woman, you are everything to me. Stay with me. Bear me a son.”

  The mention of children brought her eyes open quickly. She became aware that he was stroking her belly, oh, so gently.

  It . . . was . . . as though . . . he already knew a child grew within her.

  She reached for his hand and held it still on her stomach. “I am with child already,” she said, and wondered why that confession didn’t cause him to withdraw his hand in surprise, or worse yet . . . in disgust.

  “I already knew,” he said, smiling into her eyes as their gazes met and held in the fire’s glow.

  “You . . . did?” she gasped. “How could you?”

  “I was not certain, but I believed that you were,” Thunder Horse said, sitting up beside her. He stroked her belly with his hand gently, almost meditatingly.

  “How could you?” she asked, aware of his gentleness and his acceptance of her baby.

  “Many times when you were not aware of it, you have rested your hand on your belly as women with child often do,” he said softly. “I saw this with my sister. She was oh, so protective of her baby before he was born. All women who want to have a child are.”

  “And it doesn’t matter to you that I am carrying another man’s baby inside my belly? I do love you with all my heart and want to marry you,” she blurted out, her eyes searching his.

&nbs
p; “Everything about you I love,” he said thickly, slowly smiling. “Even the child that will be born of your other love.”

  “I loved my husband, yet not with passion,” she confessed. “It was a gentle love. He . . . my husband . . . took me in and married me when my parents were killed. He wanted children so badly. But he didn’t even know that I was with child before he died. I only realized it myself on the journey from Kansas to Arizona.”

  “I shall love the child as though it was born of our union,” Thunder Horse said. “It will be my child. I shall raise it and protect it. I shall teach it everything the young braves of my people learn. We shall hunt together.”

  Jessie was almost in tears, she was so happy and grateful to have found such a love as Thunder Horse’s. She sat up and flung herself into his arms. “I love you so,” she sobbed. “Thank you for loving me.”

  He held her for a while longer; then they lay back down and loved again, this time slowly, leisurely, yet still with a passion they could only find together.

  Chapter Twenty

  Reginald rolled and tossed on his bed, fitfully throwing his blanket from side to side as another nightmare held him in its grip. This one was worse than any he had had before.

  In his dream he was in the sacred cave.

  The paintings of Indians along the cave’s walls began turning into living beings, jumping from the walls, yet they weren’t full Indians at all. They were bones that suddenly came together into hideous skeletons.

  Howling and shrieking, they began running after Reginald, the click-clack-clack of the bones like something straight from hell.

  There were skeletal remains of eagles flying around his head, squawking and clawing at him.

  He awakened in a sweat. Panting, with sweat rolling from his brow, his eyes wide, he sat up and looked wildly around him.

  He was in his room, where the moon’s glow shone through his windows onto his bed.

  Trembling, he closed his eyes as he recalled this newest nightmare. It had all seemed so real—the bones, the skeletons, the birds, all running after him, grabbing, clawing.