Shadow Walker

by Connie Mason

  “I don’t believe you,” Dawn scoffed. “You’re too hot-blooded to reject Laughing Brook’s offering.”

  “I speak the truth,” he said solemnly. “Forget Laughing Brook. Will you let me love you again?”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  He gave her a cocky grin. “I don’t ever want to disappoint you.”

  “You never do.”

  He kissed her endlessly, bringing her body to aching arousal with his hands and mouth.

  “Lie on your side facing me and bring your leg over my hips,” he instructed in a voice that exuded sensuality. “That’s right.” He touched her between the legs. “Ah, you’re wet already.” They were fused from breast to groin as he eased inside her. For a time their coupling was slow and easy. Then his blood ran too hot to control and he began sliding in and out in hard, swift stokes. And suddenly he was there.

  “It’s too soon!” he cried, fearing he’d leave Dawn behind. He brought his hand between them and found the tiny bud of her desire. With the pad of his thumb he rotated it gently, slowly bringing her to the same peak of excitement he had already attained. “Now!” he hissed as he felt her rushing toward climax.

  Dawn reacted powerfully to his words, trembling with the force of her explosion. A few seconds later Shadow Walker cried out hoarsely and withdrew, spilling his seed on the ground.

  “You’re mine,” Shadow Walker growled as he hugged her possessively. “You’ll join with me when we reach the Little Big Horn.”

  Dawn did not hear him. She had already fallen asleep.

  The mountains and valleys were ablaze with color. Wildflowers carpeted the fertile ground, and the verdant mountains were lush with new foliage. The loss of her child still plagued Dawn. She kept wondering what her child would have looked like had he lived. The child would have been a son, of course, with Shadow Walker’s burnished hair and strong body.

  They reached the Sioux village on the banks of the Little Big Horn River the first week in June. Dawn had never seen so many Indians gathered in one place.

  “There must be thousands gathered here,” she said to Spring Rain as they paused at the top of a hill to look down upon the village.

  “Running Elk said at least three thousand Sioux and northern Cheyenne warriors are gathered here. We are among the last to arrive.”

  Soon they reached the place on the riverbank that Running Elk had chosen for their campsite. During the next hours, activity was at a fever pitch as the women raised their lodges and settled in. Soon campfires dotted the area, and the aroma of food wafted through the air.

  Shadow Walker appeared at Dawn’s elbow. He had come to ask if she needed help erecting her lodge. “There is a council meeting tonight,” he said as he began unloading the travois. “Chiefs Crazy Horse, Gall and Low Dog will be there, and I’m going to try to talk them out of this folly.”

  “Do you think it will do any good?” Dawn asked as she watched him set the lodgepoles in place.

  “It can’t hurt. The army is bound to learn about the huge force preparing for battle and will try to trap the largest group of hostile Indians ever to gather in one place. I may be very late tonight—don’t wait up for me.”

  “I don’t think it is wise for you to continue to share my lodge. You’ll be leaving soon, and the People will consider me a loose woman for living with you.”

  “I don’t care what the People think. You won’t be here to worry about it. You’re leaving with me.”

  “Damn you! You have no right to tell me what to do.”

  “You think not?” He smiled at her and stepped back to admire his work. “There, it’s finished. All you need do is arrange our sleeping mat.”

  Dawn hated his overbearing arrogance. She was preparing to give him the sharp edge of her tongue when he walked away. “Impossible man,” she complained to his departing back.

  A short time later, Sun In The Face brought Dawn a pure white tunic richly embroidered with beads and feathers. It was so lovely Dawn felt unworthy to touch it.

  “What is this for?”

  “For your joining with Shadow Walker,” the Indian woman said shyly. “Laughing Brook is very angry.”

  “I never said I’d join with Shadow Walker,” Dawn countered. Did she have no say in her own future?

  “Shadow Walker told Running Elk to prepare a feast. It is to take place tomorrow night. Here,” she said, placing the tunic over Dawn’s arm. “It is yours. Be happy. Shadow Walker deserves happiness. He has grieved for Morning Mist longer than is healthy. It is time he found someone to love.”

  Dawn stared at the butter-soft doeskin, marveling over the incredible craftsmanship of the embroidery. She rubbed it against her cheek, painfully aware that her marriage to Shadow Walker would not be legal in the White world. She wasn’t stupid. Once they returned to civilization, Shadow Walker would dump her with his sister and forget about her.

  Shadow Walker wanted no legal or emotional attachments. He was taking precautions to prevent her from conceiving his child, she thought with resentment. If he intended to make their marriage legal, he wouldn’t be so determined to waste his seed on the ground.

  “Shadow Walker doesn’t love me,” Dawn insisted. “He loves a memory. I can’t compete with a dead woman.”

  Sun In The Face laughed softly. “Where did you get that idea? One day you will learn the truth.”

  Shadow Walker stood in the middle of the large circle, addressing the great Sioux and Cheyenne chiefs. His voice was low yet forceful, his expression grim as he tried to convince them to disband and go back to their reservations.

  “I speak out of love for the People,” he said earnestly. “My wife, Morning Mist, was Sioux. She was killed in a raid, and I still grieve for her, so you know I do not speak with a forked tongue. I genuinely care about what happens to the People even though I must return to my own kind soon.

  “Go back to your homes. Even if you are victorious, the retaliation will be swift and violent. Many lives will be lost and much blood shed. You will be driven to barren lands and forced to eke out a meager existence for your families.”

  Chief Crazy Horse spoke for his colleagues. “It is too late to retreat. This will be the greatest battle of all time. Never have so many warriors gathered in one place. The army can come but they will suffer humiliating defeat. We must do this to save our sacred hills. Too many treaties have been broken. Solemn vows given in trust have been disregarded.

  “I know you, Shadow Walker. You are a brave warrior and good friend to the Sioux. But this is not your fight. Take your woman and go back to your own kind. It is not right for you to fight against your people.”

  Defeat sat heavily upon Shadow Walker’s shoulders. Crazy Horse spoke for all the chiefs; the agreement was unanimous. A battle was inevitable. Soon he must remove Dawn from danger. He would let her rest a few days while he made arrangements to leave.

  After the council adjourned, Shadow Walker approached Running Elk. “Can I not convince you to leave while there is still time? Has nothing I’ve said moved you?”

  Running Elk clasped Shadow Walker’s shoulder. “I believe that everything you say will come to pass but I cannot walk away from this battle. These are my people. I will not be called coward.”

  “No one in his right mind would ever call you coward. I will stay and fight with you.”

  Running Elk gave him a sad smile. “No, you must heed Crazy Horse. Take your woman and go. Dawn does not belong here and neither do you. This is not your fight.”

  Shadow Walker felt a grinding pain in the pit of his stomach. He knew that Running Elk spoke the truth, but it was difficult to watch an old and respected friend rush headlong to certain death. For even if death did not come with this battle, it would still come.

  “I will do as you say,” he said. “We will leave after the joining ceremony.”

  “The women are preparing a great feast. All the chiefs and their people have been invited. They will bring food and particip
ate in the ceremony. Do not disappoint me, Shadow Walker.”

  “You wish me to join with Dawn and I will not disappoint you. I wish it also.”

  Dawn was still awake when Shadow Walker returned to their lodge. Assuming that she was asleep, he quietly shed his breechclout and crawled between the blankets. He drew her against him, taking care not to awaken her. Holding Dawn all night seemed natural now. He wondered how he had survived all those cold, lonely nights without her. His lust for her was enormous, and he intended to satisfy his craving as often as possible until the time came for them to part.

  “What did the council decide?” Dawn asked.

  “I thought you were sleeping.”

  “I couldn’t sleep until I learned what happened.”

  Shadow Walker sighed heavily. “Nothing happened. My words had little effect upon men who have been pushed too far to retreat. But I had to try.”

  “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon.”

  “We’ll be leaving,” he corrected, “but not right away. You need to rest before attempting another long journey. You’re still weak.”

  “Sun In The Face gave me a tunic today. It’s so beautiful, I could never wear it.”

  “But you must. It’s for our joining tomorrow.”

  “Why are you doing this? A marriage between us is a farce. It will not be legal in the White world.”

  “Humor me. I’m still Shadow Walker. In Shadow Walker’s world it is not only right, but legal. I took you, got you with child, and must obey tribal customs. Running Elk expects us to join, and I will do what I must to keep his regard. In the eyes of the Sioux and Wakantanka, we will be husband and wife.”

  “What if I decide to remain with the People?”

  “It matters not what you want. Both Crazy Horse and Running Elk advised me to take you away from here. They realize their days are numbered. You have no choice. We will leave together in one week. Now go to sleep. All this talking makes me weary.”

  Shadow Walker was far from weary. He wanted Dawn. He always wanted her. But she was still recovering from her miscarriage, and tonight she needed rest more than she needed him rutting between her legs like an animal who couldn’t control himself. She wasn’t as strong as he would like, and it worried him. Was she still grieving over the loss of their child? he wondered. She exhibited all the signs, and he was an expert when it came to recognizing grief.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was time. Shadow Walker would come for her and she’d become his wife in the presence of hundreds of Indians, and it would mean absolutely nothing. It hurt to think that Shadow Walker was going through with this merely to appease Running Elk.

  Dawn ran her hands over the soft doeskin of her tunic. It was the loveliest garment she’d ever owned. Fringed and embroidered, it hugged the slim proportions of her figure to perfection. Complementing the tunic were pure white moccasins and leggings, which Spring Rain had presented to her this morning after they returned from the bathing place. Dawn was still admiring the lovely workmanship of her outfit when the tent flap flew open and a woman burst in without asking permission.

  “Laughing Brook, what are you doing here?”

  “You will never join with Shadow Walker! You have no right to take what is mine.” Her face was contorted with hatred as she stalked Dawn, brandishing a knife in her right hand. Dawn recoiled in alarm.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done when you first arrived. I’ve wanted Shadow Walker since the day Morning Mist died.”

  Stall for time, Dawn told herself as she tried to remain calm. “You know Shadow Walker will not remain with the People. If you joined with him, you would not have him long before he returned to his own kind.”

  Laughing Brook gave Dawn a sly grin. “Do you think I’m not capable of persuading Shadow Walker to remain with me? He left once and returned. If he joined with me, I would convince him to remain forever. He enjoys my body more than he enjoys yours.”

  “You’re a fool. Running Elk told Shadow Walker to leave, and he will do as Running Elk wishes.”

  Brandishing the knife, Laughing Brook lunged at Dawn. Dawn lurched sideways, avoiding the vicious slash of Laughing Brook’s knife. How long could she dodge the enraged woman? Dawn wondered as Laughing Brook whirled for another attack. Bracing herself against the lodgepole, Dawn visually measured the distance to the entrance, wondering if she could move fast enough to avoid being slashed to shreds.

  “I know all about the babe you lost,” Laughing Brook taunted as she moved in for the kill. “I don’t believe the babe was Shadow Walker’s. Whores seldom know which man placed his seed inside them.”

  Laughing Brook leaped forward, trapping Dawn against the lodgepole. She saw Dawn look over her shoulder and glanced behind herself, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Shadow Walker standing just inside the tipi.

  Shadow Walker had arrived to escort Dawn to the feast. When he saw Laughing Brook standing before Dawn in a threatening manner, he quickly placed himself between Dawn and the jealous widow. “What is the meaning of this?” he thundered. His voice was as hard as his expression. “What are you doing here, Laughing Brook?”

  Hiding the knife in the folds of her tunic, Laughing Brook was all innocence as she smiled at Shadow Walker. “I came to wish your bride well. I will leave now.” She sidled past Shadow Walker and ducked out the entrance.

  “What happened here?” Shadow Walker asked as he reached for Dawn. “Did Laughing Brook hurt you?”

  Dawn decided not to reveal the ugliness she’d discovered in Laughing Brook. No harm had been done, and she saw no reason to mention the violence that Laughing Brook had intended.

  “I’m fine. It’s as Laughing Brook said. She wanted to wish me well.”

  Shadow Walker searched her face. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Forget it. Whatever Laughing Brook intended is of no consequence.”

  Shadow Walker wasn’t convinced, but there was no time to dwell on it. The drums were beating in a wild rhythm, summoning people from every campsite along the Little Big Horn to the festivities. “It’s time to go.” His gaze slid down her body, then back up to her face, pleased by what he saw. “You’re beautiful. But something’s missing.”

  “Missing?”

  He removed the headband adorned with a single eagle’s feather from his own head and placed it on hers. He stood back and smiled his approval.

  “It looks better on you. Come, the People are waiting.” He held out his hand.

  Dawn slipped her hand in his, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip clear down to her toes. He looked so handsome, she thought. He was dressed in pure white. His shirt was embroidered with beads and feathers and thickly fringed in the same manner as hers. The shirt ended below his slim hips, where the fringe met the tops of his white leggings. His moccasins were as elaborately adorned as his shirt. The pristine white of his clothing provided a startling contrast to his deep tan. He looked every bit the proud savage despite his bronze hair and green eyes.

  The size of the crowd gathering for the festivities was daunting. Dawn clung to Shadow Walker’s hand as a path opened for them. Dream Spinner awaited them in the center of a circle that was at least fifty deep.

  They paused before the shaman, the focus of attention. Dream Spinner waved his medicine stick and a rattle made of bones, mumbling words that made little sense to Dawn. Abruptly the chanting ceased. As if on cue, the People sat cross-legged on the ground. Shadow Walker grasped Dawn’s hand and seated her between Running Elk and himself. Then the feasting and dancing began. Warriors danced around a huge firepit, others sang of their brave deeds. At times women joined the dancing, which grew wilder and more frenzied as the evening progressed.

  Shadow Walker touched Dawn’s arm and she turned to him. His eyes had turned a dark, impenetrable green; his face was stark with undisguised hunger. She felt as if her bones were melting.

  “Are you ready to go?” he whispered against
her ear.

  Dawn looked at him questioningly. She’d been waiting for their wedding ceremony to begin. “I thought we were to be joined tonight?”

  “It is done,” he said, smiling. “The shaman blessed us and the People are feasting in our honor. We need only to enter our lodge together to be married.”

  “Th … that’s all there is to it?”

  Shadow Walker nodded slowly. “Will you come with me now? I have waited as long as I can.” He rose and held out his hand.

  Compelled by the promise his eyes held, she gave him her hand. He pulled her to her feet, and amid much hooting and laughter, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to their lodge. He set her on her feet and closed the flap, shutting out the night. Ahead of them lay long hours of sensual pleasure, of exploring one another, of taking and giving, mouths and bodies joined in mutual need.

  They undressed one another slowly, partaking freely of the love play that led to the deepest level of rapture allowed by the Gods of Love. Shadow Walker made love to her twice without stopping. Then they slept, awakening shortly before dawn to make love again. This time Shadow Walker was so carried away he couldn’t withdraw in time and spilled himself inside her. He hadn’t intended for it to happen, but passion had sabotaged his good intentions.

  Dawn felt as if her entire world were wrapped around this one man. He was in her heart, her soul, her very pores. Why couldn’t he love her? she silently lamented. Why did their relationship have to be all one-sided? She knew he hadn’t withdrawn the last time they’d made love, and she fervently prayed that his seed had found fertile ground. She wanted some small part of him to treasure after he left her.

  Preparations were begun the following day for their departure. It took several days to say their good-byes, gather provisions and plan their route. Before they left, Shadow Walker decided to try one last time to convince the great chiefs to disband and return to their lands. Chief Sitting Bull had arrived and a council meeting was called for two days hence, which was June 21. Unfortunately, Shadow Walker had no better luck convincing Sitting Bull than he’d had the first time he’d addressed the council. He returned to the lodge and told Dawn to be ready to leave the following day, June 22.