Maggie wasn’t prepared for the hunger that rushed her body.
“You okay,” he said. “I do not hurt.”
Maggie looked at his hand, still on hers, and then her gaze drifted back up to his. “How did I get here?” His burning eyes held her still.
“Find you in forest,” he said. “You are shot.” He pointed to her saddlebags. “Carry white man’s money.”
She pulled her hand away from him. She closed her eyes and massaged her forehead. She’d forgotten about that.
~~~~
CHAPTER 12
The days passed and Maggie grew stronger until she was as close to one hundred percent as she was going to get. She’d been telling herself, for several days, that she needed to get back home. Her grandfather and her sisters were probably worried about her. But it seemed every time she was close to making the decision to leave, Tajan would walk in and give her a smile that held a spark of eroticism—and her heart would melt.
She convinced herself that staying for a little while longer was the smart thing to do. At this time it was best not to draw attention to herself or her family. And what better place to hide than among the Washoe? Not many white people ventured into their camp. Just a few trappers and traders here and there, but they weren’t local. She doubted the authorities knew the bank robbers were women, so if any of them saw wanted posters in town, it was doubtful they’d equate them with her. Yes, staying was the thing to do; better than inviting trouble by traveling alone.
Summers around Lake Tahoe were fleeting, and nighttime temperatures were always cool, if not a little chilly. In the early morning hours it wasn’t unusual to find remnants of a fire smoldering from the night before.
On one of those chilly mornings Maggie was up early and sitting by the fire when Tajan came in. He gave her a smile she was coming to cherish. “You are good?” he asked with genuine interest.
“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.” Then she saw the slash gouged into the side of his deerskin shirt. She was on her feet and at his side before her brain caught up. “Your shirt…” She reached out to him. “Are you hurt?”
Tajan stiffened, backing away. “No!” He wasn’t trying to shut her out. His nature, nor his custom, approved of showing weakness. And making a big deal out of a little scratch was a clear display of vulnerability.
Maggie latched onto his arm. “I was only going to say—” She didn’t let go, even though he made a half-hearted attempt at pulling away. “—I can fix it. If you have a needle and thread.”
Tajan hesitated, studying her with a stoned, yet curious, gaze. A slight smile curled the tips of his mouth. “You…are kind.”
“Are you bleeding?” Anxiety burned her cheeks. She didn’t like thinking he could be injured.
He dropped his gaze as he lifted his shirt and revealed a superficial wound that had trickled a bit of blood.
Her throat seemed to close up. She choked out the words, “you are hurt!”
Tajan grabbed her hand and held it away from the lesion. “It is nothing.”
Great. His male ego was alive and well. “Oh, don’t do that. You took care of me…now let me do the same for you.”
“I…” He seemed to be searching for the right words in English. “Not hurt.”
Maggie wanted to take care of him, like he’d done for her. But getting him to let that happen was about to give her a headache from banging her head against his steadfast wall of ego.
As far as Tajan was concerned, he wasn’t hurt. He didn’t need any help. But, he’d allow her to mend his clothing, if that was her wish.
Maggie had gotten the sewing supplies from Tajan’s mother. And now, she was back in his lodge mending his clothing.
The equivalent of the English word amazing crossed his thoughts in his native language. She truly was the most alluring creature he’d ever seen, and something about her made him crazy.
He was no longer content being one of the happy-go-lucky unmarried men in the tribe. The idea of charming all the girls and committing to none had lost its appeal. Now, the only thing that brought him pleasure was the thought of coming back to the campsite and finding Maggie in his lodge.
When she finished mending his garment she singed the thick, coarse thread with the heat of the fire, then turned the shirt right side out and moved closer to him. She draped the garment against her chest and looked at him. “What do you think?” she asked, looking down at the shirt and then back up at him again. “Not bad, huh?” The sparkle in her green eyes spilled out onto her face and tugged up the corners of her mouth.
He took the shirt, inspected her handwork and then looked back at her. “It is good.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
* * *
That evening Maggie lay in her bedding on the other side of the fire from Tajan. He was sleeping, or at least she thought so. The glow of the flames cast a dim light over his appealing face that was rawboned and free of any signs of whiskers.
She liked looking at him when he was sleeping. She didn’t have to worry about him catching her staring or anything embarrassing like that. Her judgment was captivated, imprisoned by thoughts of the man who’d saved her. It left her daydreaming about the possibilities of what tomorrow could bring.
By all accounts she should be afraid of him. And maybe she was—a little—in the beginning. Tajan had made it easy though, for her to quickly see that she had nothing to fear from him.
The light of the fire cast a dim glow over his brown skin. Her gaze traveled across his body, eyeing the rippled physique of his well-defined torso. His dark hair cascaded down past his shoulders. She fancied the notion of running her fingers through it to see if it was as thick and as coarse as it looked. She wanted that long hair, no matter what its texture, to hang down over her face while he towered above her as they made love.
~~~~
CHAPTER 13
The days continued to flutter away. But Maggie couldn’t muster the desire to go home. After spending the last few weeks with Tajan, she wanted to stay with him forever. And they hadn’t even kissed, much less anything else.
She wondered if the Indians kissed each other? If they did, they did it in private. She’d never seen anything more than passing glances from the couples as they went about their daily business. She wanted Tajan to look at her that way, even if it was only fleeting.
Possessing such contentment for her newfound home, she’d taken to wearing Indian garb quite some time ago. She found great pleasure in taking part in the tribe’s way of life.
Sitting crossed-legged between Tajan’s mother and his aunt, Maggie was contented while learning their art of beadwork. Everyone added their own special touch to the pouches they were making out of deerskin; an art that Timeko had been brought to the tribe. He’d taught Tajan’s mother, Lela, how to do it and soon all the women in the tribe were eager to learn.
And now, Lela taught Maggie. To the delight of both Lela and her sister, the young white girl had turned out to be a quick study. When Maggie was done, she ended up with a satisfactory pouch adorned in red, yellow, and blue beadwork.
Lela wanted Maggie to feel comfortable with the tribe. She knew Tajan was falling for the young white woman. She saw it in his eyes. First, when he talked about her, and later—every time he looked at her. She had a pretty good idea that Maggie felt the same way. And since they both were moving painfully slow, she decided she’d have to give them a little push.
Maggie inspected her handiwork. “Now what do I do with it?”
“Give to Tajan,” Lela coaxed in English.
Sure, okay. Maggie gave a little shrug and pushed herself up from the ground. She went to look for him and found him inside his lodge, stacking firewood for the coming days. Maggie had been living in his dwelling, but they had not shared a bed.
Tajan glanced at her. The light in his eyes agreed with the smile that came to his mouth.
Maggie went to him; the heat of her blush singeing her cheeks. She had a hard time making eye contact. She didn�
��t know why. She just did. “Here.” She handed him the pouch. “This is for you.” She cleared her throat, surprised by the amount of nervous anxiety mounting inside her. “Your mother taught me how to make it.”
He leapt to his feet. “You make for me?” He touched her fingertips as he took the pouch. “Does my mother tell you what it means to give to me?”
Her forehead wrinkled.
A disappointed fell over him. “She does not.” He released the pouch back into Maggie’s hands. “The women…they make these for husband,” he said. “Or, for the one they wish to be husband.”
Great. Maggie felt the flush that she was certain was blistering bright red across her face. Did he have any idea she lay awake at night dreaming about him having his way with her? “Well, I guess the significance doesn’t really matter, does it?” She hoped her tone was a trivial as her words. “I made it for you.” She offered the pouch to him again. “Do you want it or not?”
~~~~
CHAPTER 14
Tajan and Maggie spent much of their free time at a place that would one day be known as Vista Point. Huge rocks and boulders had been placed amid the trees with such aesthetic strategy, it was as if the gods themselves had put them there. Off in the distance, the lake served as a magnificent backdrop with snow-covered mountains towering behind it.
They were sitting side-by-side on the edge of a boulder jutting out of the ground like a bench.
“I really don’t know how to thank you for everything that you’ve done for me,” she said, her tone oozing with the gratefulness she felt.
He had his arms crossed downward in front of him and he was holding onto one wrist with the other hand. “You are welcome,” he said, crooking his head sideways to look at her.
“Why don’t you keep the money I had on me…when you found me.” She marveled at the notion, realizing what she’d suggested. Where in the hell had that came from? She didn’t want to leave. Then again, maybe staying wasn’t as much of an option as she’d initially hoped. She’d been there for weeks and he’d never attempted, not once, to lay a finger on her. Like now for instance. Their legs had brushed together more than once. Instead of taking her in his arms, he was holding them prisoner at his lap; while she was dying to feel the heat of his bare skin against hers.
“You go away?” There was a weakness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before.
“It’s probably time that I get out of your hair.” She made the mistake of looking at him. One look into his dark eyes, beautiful like black silk, and she couldn’t help herself. No way she could leave without touching him. Feeling the tears moistening her eyes, she trailed her fingertips over his cheek and down his jaw.
He draped his hand over hers, pressing her palm against his face. “You stay with me,” he said, and it was no question. “You be my wife. I take care of you...never hurt.”
Tears splashed from her eyes and fell down onto her cheeks. Her heart hammered gleefully.
He pulled her against him. “Maggie…do not leave me.” His whispers blew hot against her cheek. He tightened his embrace and let his caresses explore a body that was more than willing to accept his touch.
“I can’t think of any place I’d rather be,” she said. “Or anything I’d rather do than stay here and be your wife.”
He leaned back far enough to keep her pressed firmly against him with one arm, and freeing up the other to reach for the pouch hanging at his side.
Tajan pulled a beautifully detailed turquoise necklace and offered it to her.
“This is for me?” She took the magnificent piece of jewelry. “It’s beautiful.”
He fastened the necklace around her neck and turned her around, pulling her back into his arms. Invading her mouth with his, he kissed her for the first time.
Their lips touched, stealing Maggie’s breath away. His soft, sensual kisses robbed her of every ounce of reasoning she could ever hope to possess.
Tangling his fingers in her silky smooth hair, his need to have her ached for relief. He’d wanted her from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. But Tajan wasn’t the type of man to push himself on a woman. And the last thing he wanted to do was scare her away. Instead, he’d resolved to bide his time and wait until the moment was right. His patience had finally paid off.
Maggie wanted him and she wanted him now. She’d lain awake too many nights. Wondering.
“You said—” Between his kisses she spoke in an almost whisper. “—you wanted me to be your wife. How exactly do we make that happen?” That must have been what he was waiting for.
“It happened when you said yes.”
“That’s it?” She froze, and stared up at him. “You mean we’re married?”
“Is that what the white man calls it?” He flashed her an enticing grin.
“Yes.” She felt the need to lay down some ground rules. “You know…later on...you can’t toss me aside now that you’ve made this commitment.”
Tajan rubbed her red locks between his fingers. “We belong to each other.” He gave her hair a little tug, pulling her toward him. “You have my heart. Forever.” He brushed his lips against hers.
“I’m interested in more than your heart right now.” She trailed her fingertips over his chest and traced the contours of the rock-solid muscles rippling over his stomach.
“You wish to go back to the village?”
“No…” She let out a soft moan. “Here. Here is fine.”
Tajan scanned the area and ended up yanking the blankets off their horses. He laid them out on a flat boulder and then turned back to her. “You are sure?”
She grabbed his arms, pulling him with her as she lay down on the blankets. Just as she’d imagined so many times before, his hair cascaded down in a curtain of black rain falling all around her face. It was thick, to be sure, but there was nothing coarse or rough about it. It caressed her face and shoulders with a silky-softness as he moved above her.
When the ritual was complete, joining the soul mates together forever, Tajan lay over Maggie in a state of sheer tranquility. She made no attempt to move her legs, still wrapped around him. Neither of them were capable of moving, nor did they care to.
Many things ran through her mind at that time, but her home in California or her background weren’t among them. Anything that crept into her thoughts wasn’t allowed to stay unless it was centered around Tajan.
He, on the other hand, knew she was hiding from something—or someone. And if he had to guess, he’d say it wasn’t good. Not from her people’s standpoint, anyway. But he didn’t care what her people thought; or his people either for that matter. All he knew was, she’d walked into his life and now everything had a purpose. Everything he did, he did with her in mind.
What joined together in those two that day would prove to be a bond that would last forever.
~~~~
CHAPTER 15
Now that Maggie was Tajan’s wife she was quite content and felt rather at home, living with him amongst the Washoe. The thought of leaving him wasn’t something she allowed herself to contemplate. Still, the guilt was there—over her family in California worrying about her. It ached, clawed and scratched, trying to break free.
Maggie came up with a viable solution. The next time traders passed through, she’d hire them to deliver a message.
Even with all the adjustments to her newfound lifestyle, Maggie’s heritage and customs still ached to come out. She hadn’t forgotten that, in her world, a married couple used symbols to show their bond—namely a wedding ring.
But this wasn’t a custom of the Washoe. Maggie came upon the answer when she decided to introduce her own version of marital expression to her newfound family. In her need to have material symbols representative of the fact that she and Tajan belonged to one another, she made a pair of matching bracelets out of leather and beads.
Upon showing them to Tajan, he was none the wiser. “What’s this?” He looked at the items in her hand and then back at her.
“Well...” She stalled, thinking she’d have to talk him into wearing them. “In my world when a man and a woman marry, they exchange gold rings.” He was never going to go for this. “And since we don’t have any…I made these.” She held out the bracelets. “If we wear them, they’ll be a symbol of our love for each other.”
“This will make you happy?” he asked.
“Well...” She thought about it. “I’m already happy. But this is one way to ensure my continued happiness.”
“If this makes you happy...” And there was that devilishly handsome grin of his again. “We will wear them.”
Maggie tied the larger bracelet on his left wrist, just as a wedding ring belongs on the left hand. Once done, she handed the other bracelet to him and held out her left arm.
Tajan followed her lead and tied the bracelet onto her wrist. As he did, he gazed at her, kissing her with his eyes. She was about to get lost in his eyes when his lips feather-touched hers with tantalizing persuasion.
The touch of his mouth was as soft as a whisper. She opened her mouth, encouraging him to come inside.
~~~~
CHAPTER 16
Among the Washoe, since there was no ritualistic ceremony to join a man and woman together, couples simply decided they would unite and from that day forward everyone in the tribe considered them to be married. And so it was with Maggie and Tajan.
Their union was well received by the tribe’s members; especially by Lela, Tajan’s mother. She knew her son was crazy about Maggie. And she also knew that if Maggie left, Tajan would never get over it.
Timeko knew what it was like to be the outsider looking in. Loving someone that you were certain could belong to anyone but you. When Lela’s father initiated the marriage between his daughter and Timeko —Timeko never forgot what that felt like. Even though he had his reservations about the young white woman, whom he was certain carried a sizeable burden, he accepted it with grace because he wanted his son to be happy. And according to his wife, this young white woman was the only thing in this world that would ever make their son happy.
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