Warrior Moon

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Warrior Moon Page 31

by Sara Orwig


  She placed her hand on his mouth, then stood on tiptoe to pull his head down to her, and his arms tightened around her as he kissed her.

  Two days later Vanessa sat cross-legged in a small tipi while Muaahap combed and braided her hair, fastening it with silver wire. Silver hoops dangled from her ears and on one arm she wore one of Muaahap’s silver bracelets and on the other a silver bracelet Lone Wolf had fashioned for her. Women sat in the circle surrounding her.

  Vanessa looked down again at her dress, touching it lightly, feeling the soft doeskin. A muted yellow, the dress was beaded and painted with geometric patterns that were made and designed by Lone Wolf’s family. Anticipation and excitement filled her and she wriggled with impatience as Muaahap continued braiding her hair.

  Finally, she emerged from the small tipi that faced another across the center of the camp. The sun was shining brightly, and there was a crisp coolness in the winter air. As she moved forward, Lone Wolf emerged from his tipi and her breath caught. He wore eagle feathers in his hair and a buckskin shirt and buckskin pants. His face was streaked with ocher paint, emphasizing his large dark eyes and his prominent cheekbones. He looked wild and handsome, and her pulse raced. She met his dark gaze and forgot all else as they stepped in front of the medicine man who would marry them.

  She didn’t understand the words of the short ceremony as the medicine man chanted prayers and fanned smoke over them that rose skyward. Afterward, Lone Wolf took her arm and led her away while the camp began their celebration.

  They entered his tipi and he secured the flap, giving them privacy. He turned to look down at her, reaching into a leather pouch on his belt to withdraw a small piece of folded deerskin.

  “Vanessa,” he said, taking her hand, his voice husky. “I have taken you as my wife before my people, which is as binding to us as the white man’s way is to his people. I know the white man gives a wedding ring that binds the woman to him and my people do not do this. But our women wear silver and shell bracelets and rings and necklaces. So I want you to have this ring as a sign of our marriage. I want you to take my way of life; but in this, I take your way because I want all to know you’re my wife. We may never again walk the white man’s road, but you have strong ties with your sisters. I want a ring on your finger proclaiming you’re my woman.”

  Her heart drummed with joy at his words, and she watched as he unfolded the leather. A small ring of gleaming silver lay on the brown deerskin. Lone Wolf picked up the ring and took her pale, slender hand in his large dark fingers.

  “What are the words, Vanessa?”

  “With this ring, I thee wed,” she said in a quiet voice. She looked into his dark eyes. “To have and to hold from this day forward.”

  “With this ring,” he repeated solemnly, gazing into her eyes, “I thee wed. To have and to hold from this day forward.” He slid the ring on her finger, and she moved into his arms, winding her arms around his neck to hold him tightly and kiss him, her heart beating wildly with joy.

  “We have the next seven days when we will be left alone as much as possible and Muaahap, Belva, and White Bird will stay elsewhere. Then life returns to normal except that you will be in my arms every night.”

  She thrilled at his words, kissing his throat, her hands going across his chest. He stepped back to pull off his shirt, the muscles rippling in his broad chest. He picked up the end of her braid. “I want your hair unbound,” he said in a husky voice, unfastening the silver wire and beginning to pull free the plaits of hair, tugging lightly on her scalp. She watched him, her hands tracing the contours of his chest as she marveled that they were finally man and wife. Her love for him welled up, and she wanted to touch and kiss him and learn what pleased him. As he unwound the braid, her scalp tingled and she felt as if she were drowning in his dark eyes.

  He combed his fingers through the braid and her hair spilled over her shoulder. Continuing to watch her, the tension building between them, he shifted to unravel the other braid while she reached up to remove the hoops from her ears.

  “Let me undress you, Vanessa,” he said solemnly, taking the hoop from her ear, his fingers lightly stroking her cheek, the faint touches tickling her erotically.

  “Sometimes when I stopped to rest on the way here, I dreamed I saw you. And sometimes I didn’t think I would ever find you.”

  “I don’t know how you did.”

  “I turned east, finally, because I was afraid I had passed you, and then I was going to ride back north except I wouldn’t have lasted that long. I thought if I went east, I might find a town and food…”

  “Vanessa, you are still that storm wind in my life.” He pulled up the doeskin dress, and she raised her arms as he eased it over her head. He inhaled, his chest expanding while he cupped her breasts with his dark hands.

  “I don’t want to lose you ever again,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her and flick his tongue across her nipple.

  She wound her fingers in his hair, her heart pounding as he kissed and stroked her. She pushed away his buckskins and touched him, wanting to drive him to the frenzy that he created in her.

  She still felt stunned that she was finally with him. And she was still amazed by his deep declaration of love that filled her with joy. She slid her hands over his virile body, feeling the solid muscles, his hard thighs, his manhood.

  She stepped closer to kiss him, trailing kisses on his smooth flesh, moaning softly when he caressed her, his hands stroking her breasts.

  Relishing the heat and strength of his body, she pressed against him. As her hands slid over his back, she looked up at him. Instead of smooth taut flesh over strong muscles, she felt tiny ridges. She caught his upper arms, her fingers closing on his biceps. He paused and looked down at her.

  “Your back?”

  He straightened up and his expression changed, a flash of anger surfacing in his eyes. “I have much to settle with Captain Milos. But he’ll not interfere with my marriage night.”

  She gave a small cry, turning him, looking at Lone Wolf’s broad, bronzed back, now lined by scars that streaked his skin. “He did this to you?” she asked, aghast, remembering watching Dupree stride across the parade ground. She had thought he was going to tell them to release Lone Wolf; instead, he had done this. “He promised me he wouldn’t harm you!”

  Lone Wolf turned to look down at her, holding her shoulders. “Vanessa, I don’t want to hear another word about Dupree Milos tonight.” He frowned, wiping her tears away with his thumb. “Don’t cry. I survived and I’m mending and the scars will fade.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, “and I hope I can learn to live with the dangerous life you have.”

  “I’m not so certain,” he said, leaning down to kiss her throat, trailing light kisses to her mouth and ear, stroking her back, his hands sliding down over her buttocks with feathery touches that made her pulse pound. “I’m not so certain,” he repeated, “that I have any more risks than you do.”

  “Of course you do, riding in raids and battles—” she murmured, kissing his chest, her hands trailing over his narrow hips, down to his strong thighs.

  “Riding across country alone,” he added, “rescuing sisters, offering yourself to save me. No, my life isn’t more dangerous.”

  He turned her face up to look into her eyes. “I love you, Vanessa,” he whispered, bending to kiss her passionately, his tongue touching and stroking hers.

  Later, when he lowered himself between her thighs, entering her slowly, she pulled him against her.

  “This is the way I want you,” he said harshly in her ear. “All mine. I want your body and heart, Vanessa.”

  “And I want yours,” she said, her eyes opening wide to look up at him. When she saw the hungry look in his gaze, her heart beat wildly with need and joy.

  “You have mine,” he said in a gruff, husky voice. All thought spun away as she held his powerful body and moved beneath him. “I want to drive you wild, Vanessa, to feel your fire,” he whispered, with
drawing partially, easing back into her, stirring an exquisite torment.

  She climaxed, dimly hearing him cry her name, holding him tightly. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

  They slowed, their bodies damp, and he held her tightly against him, turning on his side, his legs tangled with hers. She stroked his strong body, joyous that he loved her, knowing she loved him with all her heart.

  “Now, I have you to myself for days with no interruptions,” he said, gazing at her.

  She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling at him. “I keep having to touch you because I feared I would never get back to you. I constantly saw your face in the clouds and thought I saw you on your horse in the shimmering distance.”

  “I would have come to Bascom to get you, but I had to get well and we had to wait for a war party to prepare for the right time.”

  Surprised, she gazed at him solemnly. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to fight them for me.”

  He shrugged his shoulder. “We intended to. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

  “You could not have fought all those soldiers without losing a lot of men.”

  “We wouldn’t have made a direct attack in broad daylight.”

  “How did you get back here? Did you walk all this way?”

  He looked amused as he stroked her throat and wound his fingers through her hair. “Old Muaahap surprised me and saved us all. So before you say it, yes, I’m glad I allowed her to come with us—although I don’t think I ever really had a choice.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She hid us from the soldiers that rode after us, and that night she slipped into their camp and stole two of their horses while they slept.”

  Startled, Vanessa sat up. “I heard Dupree and a soldier talking about some horses being taken, but I didn’t dream it might have been Muaahap!”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I owe my life to her as well as to you. I had a silver necklace and bracelet made for her, and she wears them constantly. And now that we’re safely in camp, she clinks with every step she takes,” he said, his gaze drifting over Vanessa and his voice growing husky.

  “No wonder Dupree was so angry. When the soldier returned from riding after Belva, I couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but I knew he was furious.” Feeling that panic that had come so often when she was traveling, she hugged him. “Lone Wolf…”

  She trailed her kisses lower over his chest, and he inhaled deeply, winding his fingers in her hair. His hand drifted across her breasts, and she moaned softly. As his gaze met hers, he drew her down against him to kiss her and she was lost to his loving again.

  Mid-day the next afternoon, she lay in his arms, her fingers trailing along his chest down to his flat stomach while she talked. His touch was languorous, and she felt exhausted from their lovemaking. “You have changed my life—”

  “I changed yours! You’ve uprooted mine and it will never be the same. Yours was changing when we met.”

  She rolled on her side to gaze at him solemnly. “Now I have love all around me. I have a family filled with love—something I never had before. And sometime soon we’ll have children.”

  “I am sure of that,” he said complacently, his fingers trailing on her cheek.

  Someone yelled, and a horse raced past. Lone Wolf turned his head, listening and frowning.

  He stood up abruptly. “Danger comes.” He yanked on the buckskins and moccasins, pulling on his shirt and reaching for the gunbelt to fasten it around his hips.

  Fear for him shot through her like a knife stabbing into her, and she wondered if she would ever be able to accept or cope with this part of his life.

  “What should I do?” she asked as she pulled on her plain buckskin dress.

  “Muaahap will come. If we have to move camp, she’ll show you what to do and Belva will watch White Bird.” He caught Vanessa up tightly to kiss her hard and then he was gone. She stepped outside to see mounted warriors, men running and yelling. Lone Wolf jumped on a horse and rode forward.

  Muaahap came with White Bird in her arms. She motioned to Vanessa, who hurried to meet her. Everyone was moving toward the west and she wondered what was happening. She stopped walking, standing immobile as she looked at the rim of the canyon and saw what had disturbed the camp.

  Silhouetted against the sky were soldiers strung out along the ridge with two riders approaching down the sloping canyon wall. One of the two mounted men was carrying a large white flag.

  A warrior with feathers in his hair moved forward. Lone Wolf urged his horse ahead and the two rode to meet the soldiers.

  Stunned, she felt as if ice poured into her veins as she looked at them because she could guess why they were there.

  She looked around and saw Belva standing yards behind her. Wide-eyed, Belva held White Bird in her arms.

  Clamping her jaw closed tightly so she wouldn’t cry, Vanessa went to them to take White Bird and hug her tightly. She handed White Bird to Muaahap and kissed them both on the cheek.

  “Belva, we have to go.” Taking Belva’s hand, she moved forward.

  “I don’t want to leave here.”

  “We have to go, Belva. They’ve come for us, and if we go willingly, maybe they won’t attack.”

  With tears spilling down Belva’s cheeks, she ran back to hug Muaahap and White Bird. She turned to walk beside Vanessa, a scowl wrinkling her brow.

  They moved past people who watched them silently until only Lone Wolf and Chief Wind on Cloud were ahead.

  Lone Wolf turned to look at her and rode back to her, dismounting and blocking her way. His brown eyes were filled with fire, and his jaw was set in a stubborn line.

  “I won’t let you go.”

  Twenty-four

  “You have to let me go now. This is not the way to fight them,” she whispered, struggling against tears and staring at him as if memorizing him because she felt she was losing him forever. “I won’t have others killed now because of me. You can come for me later and you’ll have an advantage when you fight them.”

  “No!”

  “I won’t stay. I won’t let your people be killed because of me! You can’t hold me here and fight at the same time. If a battle begins, I’ll run into the thick of it.”

  She saw the rage in his expression, yet she would not let a battle take place like this when the soldiers had the advantage.

  “You can come later. It’ll only be days,” she whispered.

  “No, I’ll tie you—”

  “And Muaahap or someone else will untie me because they won’t want this either. The army has the advantage now.”

  She moved closer until she stood in front of him “Do this for me. Let me go now, and come for me later. It’s a long journey to Denver. There won’t be as many of them, and your people won’t be in as great a danger as they are now.”

  He stepped forward, his eyes blazing as his arm banded her waist and he pulled her to him to kiss her hard and long. Clinging to his wide shoulders, she returned his kiss, terrified it was a final goodbye.

  He released her and lifted her to his horse and Belva up behind her. He stood with his hand on Vanessa’s thigh. “I will come for you. I only do this because I know so many would be hurt and you’d do something foolish to try to stop the battle.”

  She nodded, fighting desperately to hold back tears and turning away quickly. The soldiers turned to ride beside her, and they headed toward the side of the canyon.

  As the wind whipped her, she felt as if her heart were being torn out and left behind. She kept her eyes ahead, unable to turn around and look back at him. Blinded by tears, she followed a soldier, the other one coming behind as they climbed to the rim. A gust of wind blew her hair across her face, and she pushed long strands away. Glancing below, she saw Lone Wolf seated on a horse, still watching her, his people standing quietly.

  The wind caught Lone Wolf’s black hair, blowing the ends slightly. He sat like a statue, gazing up at her. Pain tore at her as
she looked at him. She turned away and only a few feet from her was her father, riding toward her on a fine chestnut.

  Abbot Sutherland’s blue eyes burned with rage. Dupree rode beside him, his face pale and his jaw set grimly. Her father reined in alongside her, and his face was florid with anger.

  He reached out to strike her, his palm hitting her cheek with a sharp crack. She flinched from the stinging blow and raised her chin. “You should not take me back.”

  “I’d like to destroy every one of the damned redskins; but I want you and Belva, and this way I know for certain I’ll get you back. We’ll talk at Bascom.”

  He turned to ride ahead and Dupree moved alongside her. “I don’t know how you escaped. Was he in Tucumcari?”

  She raised her chin not wanting to talk to him, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

  “Answer me, Vanessa. It’ll go harder on you with your father if you don’t cooperate with me,” Dupree said in a tight voice. She turned to look at him.

  “I rode out here alone.”

  His eyes narrowed, and she saw the fury blaze in his expression. “It’s useless to lie. And there’s no way you could have ridden here alone. You would never have found them. I’ve had scouts searching the area for days now. Your father will wring the truth from you.”

  He rode away and she cried quietly, feeling Belva’s slim hand reaching over to squeeze her hand.

  “Lone Wolf will come for us,” Vanessa said. “Just be ready, Belva, because we may be separated.”

  “Papa will be more careful now. He won’t let us out of his sight.”

  Vanessa’s cheek still stung from her father’s slap, but nothing hurt like the parting with Lone Wolf, because she was afraid for him to come for her, afraid for him to fight soldiers at Bascom. She wondered if they would even return there or just head north now to a convent. If they did, Lone Wolf would never catch them.

  As they rode two days later, she realized they were returning to Bascom. She remembered her long, lone ride out and the hope burning within her. Now she knew it would be better for Lone Wolf and his people if she never had returned because then he would be safe.

 

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