The proud smile was wiped from Windhawk’s face when he caught the frosty chill in the depths of Joanna’s violet-colored eyes.
“I will talk to Joanna alone,” he said, nodding for the others to leave.
Joanna would have liked to protest when the others began to file silently out of the tipi, one by one.
Windhawk sat down beside her and ran his finger over his son’s smooth cheek. “Our son is beautiful, Joanna. I always knew if we had a son, he would be exceptional.”
Her eyes burned with unspent anger. “Now that you have seen him, you are willing to admit that he is your son. I am sorry, Windhawk, but neither my son nor I need you now. The time for needing you has passed.”
Windhawk could hear the pain and disillusionment in her voice, and he knew she was remembering the scene she had witnessed between him and Red Bird. He knew she had every right to be angry with him and, for the first time in his life, Windhawk didn’t know what to say to erase the pain he had caused Joanna. He wanted to reach out to her and pull her into his arms. He wished he had the courage to go down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness, but he was still too proud to beg.
“Joanna, we must talk. I know there is much hurt between us, but if we try, we can wipe it all away.”
Joanna threw back her head and met his eyes squarely. “That might be the case, Windhawk, if I wanted to talk to you, but I do not. There is nothing you would have to say that would be of interest to me.”
His dark brows met in a frown. “I will not hear this from you. I have come to move you and my son back into my lodge.”
Joanna got slowly to her feet, wondering how he dared ask such a thing of her after what she had witnessed between him and Red Bird. “Never, Windhawk! I will never live with you and Red Bird. I do not know what kind of woman you think I am, but I would have thought you knew me well enough to know I would never live with you and your…wife!” She lapsed into English. “I don’t even like you very well, Windhawk. You aren’t the man I thought you were.”
He frowned. “Red Bird is not now, nor has she ever been, my wife,” he answered her flatly in English, loving the way her eyes blazed when she was angry.
“I care not by what name you call her; you can call her your wife…or you can call her your harlot. I would die before I ever allowed you to touch me again after you have been with her!”
His face was a mask of fury. “Red Bird is nothing to me,” he said, disliking the fact that he had to defend himself when he had not touched Red Bird. “You and my son will move to my lodge where you belong, Joanna!”
“I know you cannot force me to live with you as you once did, Windhawk. I have been accepted as a Blackfoot; therefore, I do not have to live in your lodge unless I choose to—and I do not choose to!”
He nodded in agreement. “This is true, Joanna. I hoped you would come back because you wanted to.”
“You were mistaken. I can’t imagine what gave you the notion that I would want to come back to you.”
Windhawk laid the baby down and stood up. Dark eyes locked with violet eyes, and Joanna could feel her heart racing.
“Was I mistaken, Joanna?” he whispered. “Can you deny that when I touch you, you quiver inside as I do?” His hand reached out and touched her lips, and he watched her pull away.
“I will not deny or admit anything to you, Windhawk. You are no longer…my husband. I no longer have to answer to you about anything.”
His eyes softened. “I still consider that you are my wife, Joanna.” He reached up to his neck and removed the bear-claw necklace. “This belongs to you,” he said, holding it out to her.
She had never seen Windhawk acting so strangely. It was as if his dark eyes were pleading with her. “No! Never!” She turned her back to him, not wanting him to see her tears. “Do you think I will ever forget the sight of you making love to Red Bird? You are a monster!”
“Joanna, sometimes appearances can be deceiving. I give you my word that I have never taken Red Bird to my body, nor have I been with any woman but you since I first saw you. I am not the monster you believe me to be.”
She turned quickly to face him. “Do you think I will believe that after what I saw the other day? Do you take me for a fool, Windhawk?”
He saw no sign of softening in Joanna. She was strong and defiant—two qualities he had always admired in her. Those qualities would now keep her from taking what he offered her.
“I wish you would believe me, Joanna, for I speak the truth—I have never been with Red Bird. I will send her away.”
“Even if you are telling the truth, I don’t want you, Windhawk. You have killed the love I felt for you. I no longer admire you. I could never love someone I didn’t admire. As for sending Red Bird away, I would advise you to keep her. She can help you stay warm through the cold winter.”
Windhawk’s eyes blazed, and he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her against him. “You may not love me, Joanna, but I can make you want me!”
Joanna pushed against him, feeling real panic. Oh, yes, she thought, he could easily make her want him! Looking into his face, she felt her heart quicken as he lowered his dark head. “No, please, don’t do this, Windhawk!”
His hands moved up and down her back in a caressing motion. “Do not fight me, Joanna. Try to remember what we once were to each other.” His voice was deep and soft, and Joanna felt the pull of his magnetism.
She watched helplessly as his lips moved closer to hers, and he muffled her cry when his mouth covered hers. At first she struggled to be free of him, but soon his mouth teased and prodded hers into surrender. Joanna could feel her body tremble violently, and his hands went down to pull her tightly against him to still her quaking.
“You want me, Joanna,” he whispered huskily in her ear. “The day you die, you will still want me.”
Joanna buried her face against his soft buckskin shirt. Yes, she wanted him. Her body was a traitor to her mind. She could feel a wild sweetness spreading throughout her body at his touch.
Suddenly, she wanted to hit out at him for making her feel desire for him. Pushing herself away from him, she gave him a heated glance. “What does that prove, Windhawk? Many women desire you. Why should I be any different? I have come to know that desire is not love.”
He reached out to her. “But you want me, Joanna, and we can build on that,” he said, reaching out and touching a red-gold curl.
She backed away from him. “Tell this to Red Bird—she will listen to you—I do not want to hear anything else you have to say!” she replied, knowing that she still loved him deeply, and that, if he persisted, he could easily win her over.
He let his hand drop, knowing what he had destroyed could not be repaired in only one day. “I will wait until you are recovered from the birth of my son, then we will talk again. I am going to be away for a while—take care of my son.”
Windhawk picked up his son and kissed the sleeping child. He then handed him to Joanna. “Take care of yourself, also, Joanna,” he whispered.
Joanna watched him leave, wishing she dared call him back. She wished she were naive enough to believe all that he had told her, but she wasn’t. She believed only what she had seen with her own eyes.
The baby began to fuss, and Joanna kissed him softly on the cheek. Holding him tightly against her, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Your father has changed his mind—he thinks he wants me now that he knows you are his son. What shall I do, my little son? Dare I leave myself open for more hurt?”
As the weeks of winter stretched on, the severe weather seemed to intensify. In spite of the cold and snow that kept most of the Blackfoot tribe close to the village, the sound of children’s laughter could be heard as they played their favorite winter games.
Joanna walked toward the river carrying a waterskin. She felt healthy and rested, and she smiled as she watched a group of children sliding down a slope on a sled they had constructed out of buffalo bones.
Her baby was now over a
month old and growing stronger each day. Windhawk had ridden away the day after the birth of their son and hadn’t yet returned. Sun Woman had told Joanna that Windhawk and some of the warriors had ridden to the Northern Blackfoot country to trade for horses.
Joanna bent down to fill the waterskin from the river. Gazing downstream, she saw the Piegan woman and turned quickly away. She had seen Red Bird from a distance several times and knew she was still living in Windhawk’s lodge. She saw the woman walking toward her and quickly got to her feet, not wanting to talk to her.
“Wait, Flaming Hair, do not leave yet. I want to speak to you.”
Joanna walked toward the village, ignoring the Piegan woman. She heard Red Bird just behind her and knew she was going to be persistent.
“I was not told that you were hard of hearing,” Red Bird challenged.
Joanna turned and gave her a scalding look. “I hear the voices of my friends. I do not listen to the Red Bird who chirps nonsense.”
“You think that you are above the rest of us because you have the white skin. Have I not seen the way you walk through the village, gathering people about you as if you were a great ruler, and they your lowly subjects?” Red Bird spat out angrily.
“Indeed. I am glad you are so observant,” Joanna said, deciding she would not be drawn into a quarrel with this horrible woman.
“It is because of you that Windhawk has gone away,” Red Bird accused.
“Is it?”
“You know it is. I have heard that he left because of you.”
“You have the ears of a snake, Red Bird—you should have been named accordingly,” Joanna countered, before turning to walk away.
Red Bird decided to try another tactic. Perhaps, if she pretended to be Flaming Hair’s friend, she would gain more information. She had never considered that the white race had very much intelligence, and she was sure this Flaming Hair would be no exception.
“I have heard that Windhawk asked you to move back into his lodge. I think we could be friends if we both lived with Windhawk.”
“Do you think so?” Joanna asked coolly. “I choose my friends carefully. You, I do not even like.”
Red Bird gritted her teeth. There was something about Flaming Hair that put her at a disadvantage. “Why did you not come back to Windhawk?”
“I am sure if you asked him, he would tell you.”
“Is it that you are jealous and do not want to share him with me?”
Joanna’s eyes flamed. “My reasons are my own. I have things to do and will not talk to you any longer.”
“I would never consider moving back in with Windhawk if I were you. He does not need a white-face wife when he has me.”
Joanna laughed in spite of the pain in her heart. “At last, we agree on something.”
“I think you realize that Windhawk would not want you if it were not for his son. I will one day give him many sons, and he will forget about you and your son,” Red Bird said spitefully.
Joanna had known two hateful and spiteful women so far in her life. Claudia had been one of them, and Red Bird was the other. At last Red Bird had struck Joanna at a vulnerable spot. She felt tears sting her eyes, but she refused to allow them to fall, knowing the Piegan woman would delight in her weakness.
“Go away, troublemaker!” Sun Woman’s voice rang out. “Do not again seek out my daughter!”
Red Bird smiled smugly when she walked past Joanna. She knew she had done what she had set out to do. Flaming Hair would remember her words when she saw Windhawk again. Red Bird thought how foolish the white woman was. She couldn’t understand why Joanna refused to live with Windhawk. She herself loved him and would do anything to please him, but he would not look at her as a woman. She would yet find some way to get rid of Flaming Hair.
Sun Woman walked beside Joanna. “It does one no good to listen to the croaking of a frog. Red Bird is a jealous and spiteful woman. I have come to believe she does not always tell the truth.”
“I have known two such women in my life. One was white; the other was Red Bird. Each of them has taken from me that which I loved most in the world. It seems when they struck I had no defense against them.”
“Joanna, I want to tell you something. I hope you will understand a foolish old woman’s blunder.”
Joanna smiled. “What could you have done that could be bad, my mother?”
“It was I who sent Red Bird to Windhawk’s lodge. When he thought you were dead, he was grieving, and I thought she would bring him comfort.”
Joanna took a deep breath. “Apparently, you were right, my mother. It would seem she has done well in healing your son’s wounds.”
“If you believe that, then you are blind.”
“What does it matter? Windhawk and I are not right for each other. It seems all we do is hurt each other. I will not challenge Red Bird for a place in his lodge.”
“Joanna, sometimes when the love is strong between two people, they will hurt each other without intending to. I believe this is what has occurred between you and my son. You should want to find out the truth.”
“It also happens when the love is only on one side. Windhawk is at fault for what is wrong between us, my mother. I shoulder no blame in this.”
“No one is above making mistakes, Joanna. You must take your share of the blame. The one great fault in all of this is that you and my son listened to others and not to your own hearts.”
“Perhaps, but it no longer matters. Red Bird still lives in Windhawk’s lodge, does she not?”
“Not as his wife. Windhawk has no wife…but you.”
Sun Woman closed her mouth. It would do no good for her to tell Joanna that her son was in torment and loved her with a strong love that most women would never find in a man—Joanna would have to find this out for herself.
It was a cold night, and Joanna could hear the wind howling as she sat beside the fire, nursing her son. Sun Woman and Morning Song had gone to visit Gray Fox’s wives, and she cherished this time alone with her son.
She smiled down at the baby, who was growing strong and healthy on her milk. His dear little face peeked out of the blanket, and Joanna touched his hand softly.
Sun Woman tended to be the doting grandmother, and while Joanna realized how Windhawk’s mother loved the child, she was afraid she was spoiling him. Every time he cried she would pick him up.
A blast of frigid air announced someone’s arrival, and Joanna looked up to see Windhawk! If she had been prepared for him, she could have hidden her startled glance, but she hadn’t known he had returned to the village.
Joanna’s eyes were drawn to his handsome face. When he removed his buffalo robe and hung it from the lodgepole she saw he wore no shirt, and her eyes wandered fleetingly across the broad expanse of his muscular chest. When she looked at his eyes she saw that they were drawn to her breast, where his son was nursing hungrily.
Joanna felt a tightening in her throat as he walked toward her and dropped down beside her. She watched speechlessly as his hand trembled when he reached out to touch the soft hair on his son’s head.
“I have missed you and our son,” he said, looking deep into Joanna’s eyes.
“I…did…not know you had returned.”
She read so much feeling in his velvet-soft eyes that it frightened her. His desire for her was not disguised, and she wanted to look away, afraid of what other emotion she would discover in those dark eyes.
“I just arrived. I rode hard all day so I could see you before you went to bed.”
He reached out his hand and gathered up a tress of red-gold hair, allowing it to sift between his fingers, and Joanna was too stunned to react.
“I have thought of nothing but you and our son, Joanna.”
“Why did you go away?” she couldn’t help asking.
His hand drifted up to her cheek. “I left so you could have time to think about the things I said to you. I was a coward, Joanna, knowing if I stayed near you I would want to…” He dipped h
is head, and Joanna knew he was going to kiss her. She wanted to pull away, but, instead, her lips parted in eager anticipation.
Windhawk groaned softly as his mouth touched hers. Joanna realized that she was being drawn under his magnetic spell and moved her head to the side.
“No, please!” she cried.
“You always say no when you mean yes, Joanna,” he whispered. “I have hungered for your lips,” he whispered against her mouth.
“No, Windhawk, do not do this!” she cried, placing her hand over her mouth.
Windhawk took her hands and held them in his. “I can see by your eyes that you want me, too, Joanna.”
“N…no!”
He looked deeply into her eyes and saw the firelight reflected there. “One of the many things I have always admired about you is your honesty, Joanna. Why do you fear to admit the truth to me, as well as to yourself?”
“Windhawk, your mother and sister will be back soon,” she said, in an effort to save herself. She feared that her weakness for him would overrule her good judgment.
“No, Joanna, I saw my mother before I came here. I asked her to give me some time alone with you.”
Seeing that her son had fallen asleep, Joanna pulled her gown together. Windhawk reached for the child and raised him into his arms.
“Joanna, there are no words to describe what it feels like to be a father. I find myself wanting to tell everyone about him. I think of the time he will ride his first horse. I can envision when he is older, when he will walk beside me, looking to me for guidance. I am so proud of him, and I thank you for giving him to me.”
Joanna felt a sob building in her throat. No, she wouldn’t allow Windhawk to make her forget all that was wrong between them. “I am sure these feelings will pass. I think you want something when it is new to you, but once you have it, you will tire of it and cast it aside.”
Windhawk’s eyes narrowed. “You were my wife, and yet you know so little about me.”
“I know all I care to know. I know you tired of me soon enough and replaced me with Red Bird.”
Savage Winter Page 25