As the wildflowers lent their sweet fragrance to the air and the tall pine tree bowed its branches with the breeze, Windhawk made love to Joanna once more. This time she could feel the urgency in him. It was as if he was determined to impregnate her body with his child.
“Who knows, my love?” she whispered. “Perhaps, soon, I will give you the child you want so badly.”
Joanna watched him as he lay back and closed his eyes. She noticed the tiredness etched on his face. He had so many responsibilities that he never seemed to be at peace. She pulled him forward and rested his dark head against her silken breasts.
“Sleep, my dearest one,” she whispered.
Chapter Four
Captain Harland Thatcher stared disbelievingly at the tall, heavyset man who claimed to be Joanna and Taggart James’s uncle. The man’s mode of dress, while expensive, was appalling. The bright green waistcoat and loud yellow vest did not represent good taste. Harland was having a hard time associating Howard Landon with Joanna. It wasn’t that the man didn’t speak excellent English, it was more the fact that there was a certain coarseness about him. There was also something in his manner that Harland didn’t like, but he didn’t yet know what it was.
Harland sat back in his chair, crossed his legs, and rested his hand on his booted foot. He thought back to the first time he had seen Joanna. She and her brother had been accompanied by two servants when they had joined the wagon train he had been in charge of. At that time, he had had the distinct impression that Joanna had been running away from something, though he had never learned what it was.
Almost from the beginning, Harland had been drawn to Joanna. At one time he had even asked her to be his wife, but she had turned him down. The fact that she had chosen the legendary Blackfoot chief, Windhawk, over him, had done nothing to stem the love he still felt for her.
“I’m afraid I can’t do much to help you find your niece and nephew, Mr. Landon. Joanna chose to go to this Windhawk of her own free will. The army had no jurisdiction over her or her brother.”
Howard frowned at the captain’s manner. “I think what you mean is you won’t help me. Isn’t that right?”
Harland shrugged his shoulders. “I have no power over what you think—believe what you will,” he replied with a certain amount of arrogance.
“Both Taggart and Joanna are under age. I, as their legal guardian, feel it my duty to find them and take them back with me to Philadelphia, where they rightfully belong.”
“When I first met Joanna and her brother, I got the distinct impression they were running away from something or someone they were afraid of. Joanna never told me what her trouble was, but I now believe what they were frightened of was you, Mr. Landon,” Harland said, eyeing the man closely.
Howard snorted. “What they were running away from was the voice of authority. Neither one of them wanted to follow my direction. They were too headstrong and obstinate to know that I was acting in their best interests. Can you not see into their characters by now? You tell me what sane young lady of breeding would go off to some dirty Indian camp to live like a savage?” Howard’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I will find them, and when I do…I will take them home, with or without your help, Captain Thatcher!”
“I am surprised you would take the trouble, Mr. Landon. Apparently Joanna and her brother didn’t want to stay with you, or they wouldn’t have run away in the first place. It was you they were running away from, am I right?”
Howard’s face reddened. “Yes, and for that they will both pay! I have been a patient man in the past—but I will no longer tolerate rebellion from either of them.” Howard’s dramatic skills came to his aid now. “They were my wife’s niece and nephew, God rest her soul. She has been dead these last six months. I owe it to her memory to find Joanna and Tag. Besides, I care deeply about my niece and nephew. If they had been left in your care, Captain, would you abandon them?”
“No,” Harland agreed, “I can see what you are saying, but I think I should tell you that Joanna considers herself the wife of Windhawk, the chief of the Blood Blackfoot. She will never agree to leave him.”
“So I’ve been told. Good Lord, how can Joanna turn her back on her own kind to live with some dirty Indian?” Howard asked, unable to believe that Joanna had gone willingly to live with the Indians. “Who is this Indian, this Windhawk, everyone speaks of?”
“To many people he is more fiction than fact. The stories that are told about him are not to be believed. It is said he is a great chief and that none of his enemies will dare attack the Bloods as long as he is their leader. He is respected and almost worshipped by the Blackfoot tribe. I saw him only once, and that was just for the space of a short time. I can tell you, in all honesty, I would not want to be the one to cross him or come up against him in a fight.”
Howard looked speculative for a moment. “You say Joanna is this damned Indian’s…wife?”
“Yes, without a doubt. At least, she considers herself his wife, which amounts to the same thing.”
Howard turned white around the mouth. He had coveted the fair Joanna since the first day he had walked into her home in Philadelphia. She had a way of getting into a man’s blood and making him forget everything but possessing her. He knew, though, that he would have to concentrate on finding Taggart, since the boy was the whole key to the James fortune. If Tag had died, Howard would have lost everything.
But Howard knew the real reason he had come to this God-forsaken country had been to get Joanna back. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. His wife, Margaret, had known about his feelings for her niece. Poor Margaret had met with a most unfortunate accident. She had fallen down a flight of stairs, killing herself instantly. Howard frowned to himself. Before Margaret had expired, he had tricked her into signing papers, giving him power over all her affairs. He had thought he would inherit the James shipping empire through her. He couldn’t have been more wrong. The James’s lawyer, on learning that Russell James had died, read his will. Howard could still taste his disappointment like a bitter pill in his mouth. The will stipulated that the moneys and estate would be held in trust for Taggart until he reached his twenty-first birthday. While Howard was still allowed to remain in the house in Philadelphia, he received only as much money as it took to pay the servants and run the household. He was also allowed a generous clothes and food allowance, but it could hardly be termed a fortune. So Howard knew he had to get his hands on the boy, since he was still classified as Taggart’s legal guardian.
He remembered poor Margaret, and a sinister smile moved over his face. The doctor had said her heart couldn’t stand the strain of her fall. What the doctor hadn’t known was that Howard himself had given her the shove that sent her tumbling down the stairs. Howard had grown weary of Margaret’s constant complaining. She had been aware of his feelings for Joanna and had constantly badgered him with her jealousy.
In the back of Howard’s mind, the thought nagged at him that if he didn’t get Taggart back, one day, when the boy reached manhood, he would make trouble for him. He had to find Tag and take him back to Philadelphia, so he could be in full control again. According to the attorney, he had to bring back proof that Tag was still alive.
But still he knew that the real reason he had traveled so far from civilization was to find Joanna. She had become an obsession with him. Her face had haunted him for two years now. He felt confident that he would have her sooner or later—she wouldn’t get away from him this time!
Howard realized his mind had been drifting and that Captain Thatcher was staring at him. “Can you recommend someone to me who might be willing to travel to this Blackfoot village, Captain?” he asked.
The captain raised his eyebrow. “You are either a very brave man or a very foolish one, Mr. Landon. If you think you can just go riding into Windhawk’s village, you are badly misinformed. He would kill you first and ask questions later.”
“I have no thought of going to this village myself.” Howard p
atted his pocket. “When one has money, one hires others to take risks for them. I am prepared to pay a substantial reward for the return of my niece and nephew. You can pass the word on to anyone you think might be interested.”
Harland watched Howard Landon for a moment. His dislike for the pompous, arrogant man grew. There wasn’t anything in particular that Harland could pin his dislike on, but Mr. Landon struck him as an interloper and a fraud. He doubted that the man would find anyone who would go against Windhawk to get his niece and nephew back. Although Harland had been ordered by Colonel Jackson, the commander of Fort Leavenworth, to lend his help to Joanna’s uncle, Howard Landon had already received all the help he would get from him. There had to be a good reason why Joanna had run away from the man in the first place. Harland had no intentions of helping Mr. Landon get her and her brother back.
Thinking he might throw Mr. Landon off the trail, he decided to give him what he considered a piece of useless advice. In doing so, however, Harland Thatcher had no way of knowing that his good intentions were unwittingly placing Joanna in very grave danger.
“I believe if you are determined to find your niece and nephew, you would be well-advised to go to the fort that belongs to The American Fur Company. It’s located much closer to Blackfoot territory than we are here.”
“What’s the name of this fort?” Howard asked, sensing the captain’s dislike for him.
“Fort Union. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone who will guide you there with your loose purse strings,” Captain Thatcher said sarcastically.
Howard’s eyes gleamed with a secretive light as he faced the young captain. “You might want to reconsider going after my charges yourself, Captain. As I told you, I’m offering a substantial reward for their safe return.”
Harland frowned. “I have no need for your money, sir, but you might just possibly find some poor, misguided fool who will risk his life for your offer, Mr. Landon. I’ll give you a piece of good advice, although I doubt that you will follow it…Windhawk will never allow anyone to get close enough to Joanna and Taggart to take them away!”
Harland’s eyes flashed for just a moment. It had nagged at him for months that Joanna had turned down his marriage proposal to return to Windhawk. He was from a very prominent family in Philadelphia, and he would have been willing to lay the world at her feet had she consented to become his wife. He remembered her smile, which could tear a man’s heart out. Visions of her red-gold hair had disturbed his dreams many times. And the thought of her sweetly curved body set him on fire even now.
“If you are a betting man, Captain, I will wager that before the summer is out, I shall have both Joanna and Tag.”
“You are a fool, Mr. Landon! Even if you do convince some poor simpleton to do your dirty work for you, he won’t live past the first week in Blackfoot country. A man would have to be a complete imbecile to go against Windhawk. My God, man, this isn’t Philadelphia! Windhawk will see you dead if you don’t give up this foolhardy notion!”
Howard gazed out the fort gate to the vast prairie lands beyond the fort. “Joanna is somewhere out there, Captain. I know about some men’s greed for gold. I will have little trouble finding such a man. Besides, I don’t believe there is some damned Indian chief who strikes terror in everyone’s heart.”
“Oh, Windhawk’s real all right, but you’ll find that out for yourself. Lord help you if you do succeed in getting Tag and Joanna away from him. There won’t be anywhere on God’s green earth you can hide to escape Windhawk’s wrath…I can promise you that.”
Howard laughed contemptuously. “I can see the army has become frightened of a myth. After all that’s said and done, Windhawk is still just a man.”
“You are deluding yourself if you believe that. You haven’t the slightest notion whom you are dealing with. Ask any of the trappers or buffalo hunters about Windhawk when you get to Fort Union. They will be able to tell you stories that will keep you awake at night, Mr. Landon.”
Howard shook his head. “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll set about finding a guide to escort me to Fort Union. It’s for damn sure I’ll get no help from the army. I find very little comfort in knowing that men like you, Captain Thatcher, are all that stands between the rest of us and the Indians!”
Harland glared at Joanna’s uncle. “You’ll need more than just comfort from the army if you ever come up against Windhawk, Mr. Landon.”
Windhawk’s Blood Blackfoot had made their camp along the Milk River among the Sweetgrass Hills. The summer breezes that blew down from the nearby mountains and across the land brought with them the pleasant odor of blooming wildflowers mixed with the fresh, clean aroma of the pine forest.
The Blackfoot village was thriving with activity. The buffalo were plentiful this year, and there was meat to go around for everyone. Joanna worked tirelessly beside Windhawk’s mother and sister. The meat had to be butchered and cured and the skins prepared for later use.
Each night, Joanna would fall asleep almost as soon as she lay down. She was finding the Indian woman’s way of life a hard one, but she felt good knowing she was making a home for Windhawk. How far she had come from the girl she had once been!
Joanna could often see pride in Windhawk’s mother’s eyes as she worked alongside her, and she knew she was truly accepted as Windhawk’s wife and Sun Woman’s daughter. The Blackfoot were an outgoing and loving people, and they didn’t hesitate to show their feelings. Joanna found no difference in the way Sun Woman treated her and the way she treated her own daughter, Morning Song.
Tag was having the time of his life. Windhawk had taken it upon himself to see that Tag learned as much as he could about the Blackfoot ways. He would often take Tag on buffalo hunts and trained him with the bow and lance. Joanna could see Tag growing more confident in his ability under Windhawk’s strong guiding hand.
It was early evening as Joanna and Windhawk walked beside the river. The night was dark, with no moon to lend its light to the deep shadows. Thousands of stars seemed to twinkle in the ebony skies.
Windhawk took Joanna’s hand and turned her to face him. “You are quiet tonight, Joanna,” he said, drawing her into his arms.
She sighed contentedly, laying her head on his shoulder. “I was just thinking how peaceful it is here. I cannot explain to you how I feel. I was thinking today how much I love the people of your tribe.”
His chin rested on the top of her head and he smiled. “What about me? Do you also love me?”
She raised her head and touched her lips to his cheek. “You I love more than I can say.”
He laughed deeply and hugged her to him. “Sometimes, I wonder why the spirits chose me to be the lover of the Flaming Hair. I have everything I could want when I hold you in my arms, Joanna.”
She threw back her head and laughed up at him. “The spirits did not choose you…I did! After the first day we met, I was the one who wanted you. I did not know it at the time, but now I do.”
“Did I not stand a chance of getting away, then?” Windhawk asked in a light and teasing voice.
Her hand moved up to touch his dark hair. “No, you never stood a chance. Had you but known it then, there was no way for you to get away from me.”
Joanna felt his hands span her waist and he lifted her up over his head and then let her slide down the length of his body. “No,” he whispered, touching his lips lightly to hers, “I never stood a chance.”
Joanna saw that there were now others who walked by the river and she moved away from Windhawk and sat down on the grass. “How is Tag doing, Windhawk? He seems so happy…is he being well accepted by the other young boys? It matters to him a great deal that they like him.”
Windhawk sat down beside her and took her hand in his. “I am very proud of your brother, Joanna. When we have a son, I hope he will be like Tag. The others think of him as a Blackfoot. He is daring and brave and is never afraid to test his courage.”
“I am glad. Sometimes, I worry about h
im, but he is happy and that is the most important thing, do you not think?”
“Yes, this is important,” he agreed. “I have been wanting to talk to you about Tag, and I think now is a good time.” He paused, wondering how to tell her what Tag wanted to do.
“I am listening.”
“…Joanna, four of my warriors are going up into the Canada. It will be a mission where they take several young boys to teach them many things about survival. It is considered a great honor for a young boy to be selected to go…Tag has been selected.”
Joanna was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, Windhawk could hear the concern in her voice. “What would Tag do and how long would he be gone?” she asked at last.
“He would be gone for several months, and he would learn how to live under the most primitive conditions. I would ask that you think carefully before you decide, Joanna. Tag would be exposed to many dangers, but he would be taught how to meet those dangers. I think it would be good for him to go…and he has asked that I talk to you about it. I told him if you said no, he must accept your decision as final, and he has agreed to this.”
“Did you go on such a venture when you were a boy?” Joanna wanted to know, wishing she could just say no and get it over with. It was hard for her not to be overprotective where her brother was concerned. She knew that Tag would benefit by such an experience, but still her heart felt heavy.
“Yes, I was younger than Tag when I went on the journey of learning.”
“What do you think I should say?”
“I cannot tell you what is best for your brother. This you will have to decide for yourself.”
Again, Joanna lapsed into silence. She knew in her heart that she would have to allow Tag to go. Raising her face to Windhawk, she sighed. “You can tell Tag that I have given my consent. He can go on the journey.”
Windhawk took her hand and placed it against his cheek. “I somehow knew you would make the right choice. This will be a valuable lesson for your brother. It will get him through many hard times in his life.”
Savage Winter Page 4