Rain Song was innocent and unprepared for the feelings that ripped through her body, heating her blood and cutting off her breathing. Her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed herself against him.
He had intended to win her slowly, but when she reacted so passionately to his touch, he almost lost his ability to think. Nuzzling the lobe of her ear, he whispered, “I ache for you.”
When she gasped, he abruptly pulled back, staring into her passion-bright eyes. “I have dreamed of doing this and other things too,” he said in a husky voice. “But,” he said, standing, and moving away from her, “I shall give you time to get to know me, as I said I would.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Do not be troubled. I will be as patient as you need me to be.”
Watching him walk away into the darkness, Rain Song wanted to call him back to her. She ached for him, but she was glad he was making no demands on her tonight.
She felt restless.
Unfilled.
Closing her eyes, Rain Song still quivered from his intimate touch.
Wind Warrior held his hands out, watching them tremble. He had almost broken his word to Rain Song. He would be more careful, take more time to win her.
He raised his face to the moon, craving that which was so near, yet so far away. The tie between them was more fragile than he had thought, and if he acted with passion, he might lose her altogether.
Rain Song.
How long had he wanted her?
Almost from the first time he had seen her, she had remained in his heart.
He had discovered that he could raise her passion, but he had also seen that she feared the feelings he stirred to life in her.
He wanted her to feel joy when he made love to her. He wanted to see her beautiful eyes light up with happiness when she saw him. He had waited a long time for her; he could wait longer.
Suddenly his senses became alert. Turning, he gazed back the way they had come. Someone was out there.
Dull Knife?
Chinook suddenly joined him and also gazed into the darkness. “You feel it too, little wolf?”
Wind Warrior knew there would be no sleep for him tonight.
Chapter Twenty-three
Ever watchful, Wind Warrior stood gazing off into the distance, alert to anything that moved across the wide ravine. He walked to the edge of the cliff, glancing across the valley. Something was stirring below. At first, it had only been a shadow in his mind; now it was clear.
It was Dull Knife.
His eyesight was keen, even in the dark shadows of night. A thought hit him and grew stronger—a thought of rage—Dull Knife’s rage. His brother wanted Rain Song so much, he had decided to come after her.
Wind Warrior hurried back to camp, not wanting to upset Rain Song, but needing to make sure she was safe.
She was sitting where he had left her. Taking another robe from his pack, he handed it to her. “It is not cold enough to need a fire. Cover yourself with this.”
Curiously, Rain Song watched him put out the fire.
He snapped his fingers and the wolf came to him. “Lie beside Rain Song, Chinook.”
Obediently, as if the wolf had understood Wind Warrior’s words, the wolf padded back to Rain Song and dropped down at her side.
“Do not become fearful if you cannot see me tonight. I will be nearby. Chinook will warn you if danger is near.”
She frowned. “Danger? Is that likely?”
He decided not to tell her about Dull Knife unless he had to. “There is nothing for you to be concerned about. Sleep, Rain Song,” he told her.
He was worried about something that he did not want to share with her. She did not feel frightened, just concerned for him.
It had been an emotional day for her, so she lay back, staring at the stars twinkling in the ebony sky—she fastened her gaze on the brightest one, too weary to think clearly. Her eyes fluttered shut, and sleep claimed her.
Spotted Flower could not believe her good fortune. Not only had Dull Knife left the village, but he’d told her he would not be back for many days. He’d also told her to be gone before he returned.
The night was dark as she harnessed two of Dull Knife’s horses. She heard dogs barking in the distance, and her blood froze. If anyone caught her, no explanation she could give would save her from death.
Securing the furs to the back of a packhorse, she breathed a sigh of relief. So far no one had come to investigate. She watched the sky, waiting for the moon to go behind a cloud before she mounted the horse and gathered the reins of the packhorse. Slowly she rode through the village, heading for the river. Once she crossed, she nudged the horse forward in a gallop.
If she could make it to the prairie, where Claude would be waiting for her, he would guide her home.
She rode swiftly for over an hour and no one followed her.
With relief in her heart, she laughed aloud.
She was free!
Wind Warrior waited until Rain Song fell asleep and then slipped into the shadows, positioning himself on a cliff that jutted out over the valley, giving him a view of the surrounding foothills.
He did not underestimate Dull Knife, who was a battle-hardened warrior; if he did not want to be seen, very few could track him. Wind Warrior was reluctant to leave Rain Song even for a short time, but he had to backtrack and see if he could find Dull Knife’s trail.
Wind Warrior silently moved down the hill, then slipped into the woods, every sense alert.
He found the ashes of a campfire and knew it had been his brother’s. The ashes were still warm, so Dull Knife was somewhere nearby.
Melting into the shadows, Wind Warrior hurried back to his own campsite. Dull Knife would use every trick and Wind Warrior had to be ready for him when he came.
Here in the foothills, Dull Knife had a chance to track them; but he did not know the mountains as well as Wind Warrior. There were safe places Wind Warrior could take Rain Song that his brother would never find.
When he returned to camp, Chinook rose, looking at him expectantly.
“Lie down.”
The wolf plopped back down beside Rain Song, resting her shaggy head on her paws, her yellow eyes on Wind Warrior.
For a long time Wind Warrior watched Rain Song sleep. Her hand rested on Chinook’s head, and she sighed. He could not help notice the rise and fall of her breasts, and loneliness settled on him. She was his woman, but he could not yet become as one with her.
Soon, he hoped.
Very soon.
Chapter Twenty-four
Wind Warrior did not sleep at all, but remained on guard all night.
In the soft glow of early morning, he saw a mother bear and her two cubs amble toward a stream and proceed to catch their morning meal of fish. Warmth filled him as he watched a family of beavers frolic in the water. What had always been a place of peace and pleasure for him was now a place of danger, where he and his brother would play out their deadly game. A game he must not lose.
Dull Knife was out there somewhere, hiding, maybe watching them at this very moment. His brother would bide his time and wait for the perfect chance to take his revenge. Wind Warrior just had to make certain he did not get that chance.
Knowing her fear of Dull Knife, Wind Warrior was more determined than ever to keep Rain Song from suspecting his brother was stalking them. As soon as they reached the high country, she would be safe.
Rain Song had slept soundly, and awoke feeling refreshed. She spread her arms wide, yawning. The twittering of birds was like music to her soul, and the smell of mountain air was like a tonic.
It took only a moment for her to remember where she was, and why she was there. The day before she had become Wind Warrior’s woman. Glancing around, she saw no sign of her new husband. She looked down at the buffalo robes and noticed he had not lain beside her the night before.
Chinook came out of a thicket, bounding toward Rain Song, who laughed, going up on her knees to ruffle the wolf’s shaggy fur. “Where
have you been?” she asked as Chinook licked her hand.
“Your wolf was out hunting for her morning meal,” Wind Warrior said, emerging from the thicket. “Remember I once told you she was a wild animal. You must be prepared if she leaves us one day, if the call of her true life bids her go.”
“I know that might happen. I hope it will not.”
He smiled. “The voice of nature calls its own.” He watched Rain Song’s elegant movements, and swelled with need for her. “Have you never heard the call?”
Rain Song realized she must look disheveled, and quickly raked her hands through her hair, shoving loose tresses back in place.
Deciding he was not going to get an answer, he commented, “The weather is sweltering here, but the higher we climb, the cooler it will be.”
Rain Song noticed that everything but the robes she slept on had already been loaded onto the packhorse. Rising, she folded the buffalo robes and secured them with the other supplies.
Last night had been her wedding night, and she had spent it with Chinook. It was her fault, though. She was the one who had made Wind Warrior promise not to touch her.
She set about braiding her hair, unaware that Wind Warrior was watching her. When she turned and caught his eye, she saw a yearning reflected there that she had not seen before. “My hair gets tangled if I do not keep it braided,” she said self-consciously.
Wind Warrior’s gaze swept across her hair. “I like it flowing free.”
She unbraided it, and smiled. “As you wish, but it will get tangled.”
He stepped close, allowing his hand to run down the silken strands. “I have never seen anything so beautiful.”
She smiled at him mischievously. “I like your hair.”
He tilted her chin up, his tone soft. “Did you rest well?”
Not having the courage to look into his eye, she lowered hers. “Yes. I did.”
He handed her dried meat and his water skin. “After you have eaten, we will leave.”
Nodding in agreement, Rain Song took a bite of dried meat and washed it down with water. “Will we reach our destination today?”
Wind Warrior studied her closely. “Not for three sunrises. A bit longer,” he added evasively, “if I need to backtrack.”
“Why would you need to do that?”
He was only partially honest with her. He still did not want to tell her Dull Knife was tracking them. “To make certain no one is following. Now, if you are ready, we should leave.”
He tightened her horse’s reins and said with his back to her. “I have so many wonderful sights I want to show you.”
There was an excitement in his voice she had not heard before.
“What kind of sights?”
“You have not seen beauty until you stand on a mountain peak and stare down below, viewing the earth as the eagle sees it.”
“I would like that,” she told him nervously, not wanting him to know she was afraid of heights—a result of Spotted Flower pushing her off the cliff.
Wind Warrior turned her to face him, finding he had no defense against her beautiful green eyes. He took a breath and said, “Your feelings are open and honest and much of the time I can see clearly what you are thinking.”
Rain Song looked at him questioningly.
“I have known for a long time that you did not fall off that cliff—Spotted Flower pushed you.”
Her mouth opened in astonishment. Although her mother knew, she had told no one else that Spotted Flower had pushed her. “How did you know that?”
Wind Warrior watched her face carefully. “Tall Woman told me, when she sought my help in rescuing you. I waited for you to accuse Spotted Flower. It would have been a good opportunity to shame her before the whole tribe, but you never did.”
“I dealt with her in my own way.”
“When you did not shame her, as many would have, it gave me a great insight into who you are.”
“Well, know this about me, and you may not think so highly of my motives—I went to Spotted Flower’s tipi that night and knocked her down!”
She watched his beautiful mouth curve into a smile. “That I did not know, but I approve. It was well done.”
She met his gaze and had the feeling she was drowning in the dark depths. “It seems very few things escape your attention.”
“That is true where you are concerned,” he agreed.
Her heart was beating so fast, she was sure he would notice. Ducking her head, she started to turn away.
As if he could not help himself, Wind Warrior took her by the shoulders and brought her body against his. She went stark still as he rubbed his face against hers. “All the same, you are a mystery to me. I want to know everything about you. But,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping back, “we have a lifetime to discover each other.”
Warmth spread through her and she resisted the urge to walk right back into his arms. “What wonderful sight will you show me today?”
He turned away. Happiness such as he had never known poured through him like water rushing over a cliff. Rain Song gave meaning to his days—he ached for the time when she would bring passion to his nights.
“I will show you a place where you can sing with yourself.”
“How can such a thing be?” She laughed.
He grinned. “You will just have to wait and see.”
Chapter Twenty-five
It was their second day in the foothills, and they moved through the shadows cast by an enormous mountain. Graceful spruce trees twisted in the wind, dominating the smaller cedars. The air was clean, the land washed in vivid colors of green, incredibly beautiful against the flow of a stunningly blue sky.
Rain Song drew the knot tight on the packhorse, looking downward at the lacy patterns made by the sun shining through a pine tree. Her gaze moved on to a clump of scrub oaks that clung to the side of the hill. Gazing upward, she wondered if they would ever make it to the top. Down below were dark shadows in a deep canyon.
She watched a small rabbit emerge from a thicket, take one look at Chinook, and dart right back.
She followed Wind Warrior as he led the horses to a nearby stream and let them satisfy their thirst.
“Why have you always spent most of your time in the mountains?” she asked.
He glanced at Rain Song with an expression she could not read. “I was not aware you noticed my absence.”
She felt color climb her cheeks. “Everyone knew you preferred to dwell in the mountains.”
Wind Warrior loved it when she blushed; it painted her face with a beautiful rose color. “I am not sure I know why I felt the need to come here. But I will be spending more time in the village now that you are my woman.”
Rain Song’s heart lurched.
His woman.
How right that sounds.
She had dreamed of him last night, and in that dream he had slept next to her, and she had curled up in his arms. Again she blushed, hoping he could not read what she was thinking this time.
“You were not in camp last night. Each time I awoke, you were not there.” She had not been concerned because she had known he would not leave her in danger, and she always had Chinook at her side, but she wondered why he left each night.
“I was nearby,” he replied.
Sometimes he could be maddening—especially when he did not fully answer her questions. Rain Song bent down and filled their water skins, hoping they would soon reach their destination.
Wind Warrior watched her lithe young body as she moved gracefully toward her horse. He loved the way the sunlight fell on her golden hair. He wished he knew what she was thinking as she paused to look back the way they had come. Perhaps she was wishing for Tall Woman and the life she could never go back to.
Being alone with her caused his mind to run wild. He could imagine taking her to his body, holding her against him until she felt the same passion for him that he felt for her. In many ways she had been protected, and knew very little of life and proba
bly nothing about what went on between a man and his woman, other than what Dull Knife had subjected her to.
“You are not the only one who has insight,” she said, glancing at him with a serious expression. “I know why you have not been sleeping.”
His voice came out in a whisper. “Why is that?”
“You watch for Dull Knife, lest he come upon us unobserved.”
She was no fool. “Do not trouble yourself about my brother. I would not allow him to hurt you—you must know that by now.”
She did know it. “How long can you go without sleep before it affects your judgment?”
Wind Warrior’s eyes narrowed as he glanced down a deep gully, watching an elk dash out of the greenery. “As long as it takes.”
The sun set early in the mountains, and it was almost dark when Wind Warrior announced that they would stop for the night.
Wearily, she dismounted, taking the reins of her horse and following Wind Warrior up the steep path. When the path narrowed, he turned to her. “We will leave the horses down here for the night—they cannot climb any farther.”
Rain Song watched him hobble the horses; then she helped him unload the packhorse, and he slung the supplies they needed onto his back.
“Chinook, stay and guard the horses,” he said, nodding at the wolf.
Chinook lapped at his hand and hunched down on guard.
Was it possible Wind Warrior had mystical powers as many of the Blackfoot believed? “How do you get Chinook to do what you want her to?” she asked, slinging her own pack over her shoulder.
He paused thoughtfully. “She is a very obedient wolf, as I am sure you have discovered.” Wind Warrior took her hand and helped her over a wide boulder. “I believe you will find comfort in our campsite tonight.”
She glanced about her, unable to see much in the darkness. Wind Warrior led her up a steep incline. When they came to another huge boulder, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. He slid her against his body, holding her there for a long moment.
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