Yellowstone Homecoming: Yellowstone Romance Series Novella

by Peggy L Henderson

  Della hesitated, then handed the baby to the Indian who’d rushed to her. He nodded at her, a grateful look in his eyes. She returned the gesture, and smiled at him.

  “I found this baby in the bushes,” she said when Matthew reached her side.

  “He wandered away from his family a while ago. His parents have looked everywhere. I ran into them a short distance from their village.”

  “Village?” Della frowned. There was an Indian village nearby? She pushed aside her momentary sensation of dread.

  “These are Lakota. They’re friendly,” Matthew said, as if he’d read her mind.

  The father of the child spoke to Matthew, and gestured with his hands into the distance. He looked at Della, and nodded at her.

  “Looks like we’re invited to the village.” Matthew grinned. “This man is the son of Chief Running Bear, and he wants to express his thanks to you for finding his son by offering us a meal and a place to sleep tonight.”

  Della hesitated. Her last encounter with Indians hadn’t been cordial.

  Matthew leaned toward her. “They’re friendly,” he repeated in a reassuring tone. “And very hospitable. I’ve stayed with bands of Lakota before during my travels.”

  Della nodded. “All right,” she whispered. She trusted Matthew, and if he believed these Indians were friendly, she had no cause to doubt him.

  Matthew took hold of her hand, and nodded at the Indian, who waited with an expectant look in his eyes. Della hurried to keep up with his long strides when he led her away from the stream to follow the men. His hand swallowed up her smaller one, and the further through the forest they moved, the firmer his grip became. When they entered a large clearing, and more than a dozen Indian tipis came into view, Matthew pulled her up so close to him that her hip bumped his thigh. Della darted a quick look up at him. When their eyes connected, the breath left her lungs. A tender, yet possessive gleam flashed in his gaze.

  The people of the village greeted them and the two men with friendly smiles and curious stares. Women stopped what they were doing in front of their tipis, children ran up to them, and men stood, watching. One woman in particular came running at them, and the man carrying the toddler handed the boy to her. The two exchanged words and the woman looked toward Della. She nodded vigorously, and smiled. Della returned the gesture.

  Matthew finally released her hand when he greeted and conversed with an older man who’d emerged from the largest tipi in the middle of the village. Della rubbed her fingers against her sweaty palm, which still tingled from his touch. She stood silently beside him while the Indian and he spoke in words and hand gestures that made no sense to her. A few times, Matthew glanced at her, or motioned to her, and the old man nodded and smiled in apparent approval.

  Finally, Matthew turned to her. “Chief Running Bear is honored to have us here as his guests. I’ve told him about the Pawnee attack, and how you escaped from them. He wants to honor your bravery, and show his appreciation for finding his grandson by giving us food and shelter for the night.”

  Della’s eyes widened. “Honor my bravery?”

  Matthew grinned. “When someone outwits their enemies, it’s definitely something to celebrate. And, on top of that, you found his grandson.” His face sobered, but genuine relief swept through his eyes. “He also told me that Zach is alive. This village heard about what happened from another village. They apparently took in a white man who escaped from a war party of Pawnee.”

  Della smiled. Impulsively, she put her hand on his arm. “Matthew, that’s wonderful news.”

  He returned her smile. “Yeah, it is,” he said, his voice deepening. He swayed slightly toward her, or had she simply imagined it? Abruptly, he straightened, and laughed. “He was obviously in a hurry to get home. The chief said he’d already left to head for the Wind River Range, even though they offered to keep him until he regained all his strength.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me that he didn’t take their advice, if he’s anything like you.”

  Matthew’s eyes darkened, and his lips twitched. Relief flooded Della that his brother was safe. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing her own sister.

  “We’ll meet up with him once we get to the rendezvous site.”

  The old Indian chief laughed heartily, and spoke again. Della tore her eyes away from Matthew. The chief pointed at her, then at Matthew. Matthew laughed at whatever the man had said.

  “Running Bear said his wife and daughter-in-law will take you to get cleaned up. He thinks we both look travel weary.” He grinned. “It’s his polite way of saying we smell bad and look worse.”

  Della’s heart skipped a beat with dread. “What about you? I don’t understand their language. Can’t I stay with you?”

  Matthew chuckled. He leaned toward her, his breath against her cheek sending shivers up her spine. “You don’t want me there, Addy. I’m sure you’ve wanted a full bath for weeks, if not longer. The women will take you to where you can clean up, in private.” He took a step back, his eyes lingering on her face. “I’m going to have the medicine man take a look at my wound.”

  Della hesitated, then nodded. She raised her chin. She was behaving like a scared little mouse, and for no apparent reason. “You’re right. Getting clean does sound wonderful. I’m sure I’m wearing an inch of dirt at least.”

  An older woman appeared from inside the tipi, and spoke to the chief. She smiled warmly at Della, who returned the gesture. The woman reached for her elbow, and motioned with her hand. She spoke, and Della looked to Matthew.

  “Go with her,” he said.

  Della allowed the woman to lead her away, through the village toward the edges of the trees, where dense bushes lined a wide, slow-moving stream that looked fairly deep. She turned her head to look for Matthew one final time, but she didn’t see him.

  The woman Della recognized as the little boy’s mother met them by the stream. She carried a large basket at her hip, and smiled warmly. She appeared to be no older than herself. Della blinked in surprise when she and the older woman began to strip out of their doeskin clothes. Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned her back. Behind her, the old woman cackled. A bony hand touched her arm, and Della turned. She focused on the woman’s face, rather than her complete nudity. The woman spoke, gesturing at Della’s dress. Her meaning became clear.

  Della glanced up, toward the village, and along the banks of the stream. Only the tops of the tipis were visible, and the thin wisps of smoke that rose into the sky from the fires. Her lips tightened in a firm line, and she looked toward the water again. Her skin itched. Inhaling a deep breath, she cast her inhibitions aside and reached for the buttons on her dress.

  Chapter Ten

  The sun was slowly sinking into the western horizon. Della ran the brush fashioned from porcupine quills through her hair a final time, and smiled at the two Indian women. Her initial inhibitions had quickly vanished after she’d followed the women into the stream. Although the water hadn’t been warm, washing away many weeks of accumulated grime felt like heaven. The last time she’d indulged in a full wash had been at Fort Williams, and even then, she’d had to use a small tub she’d barely fit in.

  Her skin tingled all over from scrubbing it with some roots the women had given her, and shown her how to use. She’d even used the lather created by the roots to wash her hair.

  The old woman croaked a few words, and patted Della’s hand. Della handed the brush back to her, and reached for her wet dress. It would have to dry overnight before she could wear it again, but it had needed a good washing. The soft doeskin dress she wore in the meantime reached just past her ankles. The rest of her legs were wrapped in soft hide, and her blistered feet found relief in the comfortable leather moccasins the mother of the toddler had urged her to put on. No wonder Matthew wore moccasins in favor of boots.

  Della followed the women away from their secluded bathing area. They returned to the village, stopping in front of one of the outlying tipis. The younger woman
lifted the flap to the opening, and motioned for Della to enter.

  “Thank you, for everything.” Della smiled, and clasped the old woman’s hands.

  Would Matthew come and see her, or had he gone to be with the men? Della’s eyes traveled through the village, but his familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.

  Both women smiled brightly, nodded, then turned and walked away. Della ducked into the dim interior of the dwelling. How wonderful it would be to not sleep out in the open for just one night. Her mouth watered at the smell of food coming from within. The shadows of a fire danced on the hides that made up the walls. She adjusted her eyes to the light, and froze. A man wearing some sort of headdress with feathers and buffalo horns knelt beside another man lying on a pile of furs.

  “Matthew?”

  Della’s eyes widened. Her heart nearly dropped to her stomach. Matthew was nude from the waist up, lying on his stomach. The Indian with the headdress glanced over his shoulder, then stood. He ignored Della as he moved past her and left the tipi. Matthew rolled to his side, and slowly stood. She lifted her eyes to meet his stare from across the space within the tipi, and her mouth went dry.

  “Addy,” he said, his husky voice holding a hint of surprise.

  Della’s pulse quickened. His gaze slowly traveled up and down her body, and he moved around the fire toward her. He drew her in with his stare when he stopped directly in front of her.

  “You clean up nice,” he said. The flames from the fire danced in his dark eyes as he looked down at her. When his calloused hands reached for hers, Della sucked in a quick breath. He stood so close, the clean scent of his skin was intoxicating. She’d gotten used to looking at his nude chest, back, and arms during their time together over the last ten days, but her face flamed in reaction to seeing him now.

  Why did it feel so different this time? He’d only removed his shirt whenever she treated his wound. By the looks of the leather band around his abdomen, someone had already done that.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here,” she stammered. Her heart beat up into her throat. “We’ll be sharing this tent? Alone?” Her voice was weak and foreign-sounding in her own ears.

  Matthew chuckled. “We’ve been alone together for nearly two weeks, and it hasn’t bothered you.”

  Della’s gaze dropped to the fur pallets on the ground, then back to the man who made her feel things, made her want things, that she’d been told were wrong and sinful.

  “Yes, but, this is different.”

  “How is this different, Addy?” There was an almost angry note to his voice. “Have I done anything inappropriate, or given you a reason to be afraid of me?” He let go of her, and turned away. He ran a hand through his hair.

  She quickly shook her head. “No, you haven’t.”

  Matthew stood with his back to her, his muscles tense and rigid. When he finally faced her again, the anger had vanished, replaced by a roguish smile. “I hope you don’t decide to stay and become a Lakota woman.”

  Della tilted her head to her side. “Why would I do that?”

  “You look real nice in that dress.” His voice had gone husky. He closed the distance between them in one stride.

  “I’m only wearing it while my dress dries. It needed a good washing.” His compliment sent a surge of warmth through her, and gave her the courage to ease the tension between them. She raised her chin, and mimicked his smile. “My father wouldn’t approve.”

  Matthew stared at her, then laughed. “Your father isn’t here.”

  “No, he’s not. I prefer my own clothing for when we leave here, but it has nothing to do with my father.”

  Matthew’s eyes roamed her face, lingered on her unbound hair, then locked on her eyes. “You’re beautiful no matter what you wear.”

  Della’s knees weakened at his unexpected words. Heat started in the middle of her chest and traveled outward. Words refused to come. She stood rooted to the spot when Matthew whispered her name. He bent forward, his breath on her face. He hesitated, then touched his lips to hers.

  Della’s breath caught in her throat at his startling action. Her heart must have stopped beating. The instant his mouth was on hers, new sensations she’d never experienced exploded inside her. She leaned toward him, shutting out her father’s voice that her behavior was bad. Matthew’s arms wrapped around her middle, and he pulled her up against him. Della leaned into the strength of his embrace without hesitation. Her arms snaked up and around his neck of their own will, her fingers exploring along the smooth contours of his skin.

  A low groan rumbled in Matthew’s chest. He covered her mouth more fully with his, and moved his lips across hers. Della’s mind swirled, until she no longer formed a conscious thought. There was only Matthew, and the burning need he brought to life in her. His hands stroked up and down her back, his fingers weaving through her hair, until his actions slowed, and he eased his mouth away from hers.

  Della opened her eyes to stare up at the man who held her with such tender strength, that she could do nothing but lean into him. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you,” he rasped. His hand stroked along her cheek, pushing her hair from her face. “I can see it in your eyes that you’re thinking the same thing.”

  She shook her head to deny what he said. She’d be lying if she spoke the words.

  “Don’t be afraid of what’s happening, Addy. Don’t be afraid of me.”

  “I could never be afraid of you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. All I know is that I have thoughts and feelings about you that I’ve never had for anyone else. When you look at me, and . . . when you touch me, I don’t want the feelings to stop.” Della groped for the right words to tell him what she meant. She gazed up into his smoldering eyes, and all doubt vanished. “My father would definitely not approve of my behavior,” she added with a sly smile.

  * * *

  Matthew’s brows rose in astonishment at her words. Once again, she’d surprised him, just as her reaction to his kiss had surprised him. He certainly hadn’t planned on kissing her this evening. No doubt he’d wanted to. It had gotten more difficult each day not to, but when she’d come into that tipi, all cleaned up and with her hair unbound, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He laughed.

  “Then it’s definitely a good thing that your father’s not here,” he murmured. He dipped his head again, and touched his lips to hers. Addy stiffened slightly in his arms, which stopped him from repeating his actions from a moment ago. He drew back, studying her eyes. The wonder, the confusion, and the desire shimmering in her brown depths caused sensations and reactions in him that he fought to keep under control. He needed to tread lightly, or he’d scare her away. This was new to her, and she needed time to sort through her feelings.

  He’d lain awake nearly every night, aching to hold her like he was holding her now. Instead of following his desires, he’d slept on the other side of their campfire, glad for the cold nights to temper his simmering body.

  The way she molded herself to him now was as if she was made for him alone. Matthew closed his eyes and inhaled deeply of the clean scent of her skin and hair. She was here willingly, not out of fear after a frightening experience with the Pawnee.

  A fierce possessiveness came over him, just like it had that day he fought off the warriors by the stream. He could have easily killed both warriors. His ax had stopped the first one, knocking him unconscious, and his fist had done the same to the other. He’d opted to simply tie them up and leave them where he’d defeated them, and taken their weapons. He’d never been one to count coup on another man, but defeating an enemy and allowing him to live would impress the rest of the Pawnee more than if he had killed them. He’d sent a clear message that he was not someone to take on again, that he would defend his woman with his life, and he would win.

  He chuckled. He doubted either one of the warriors would admit that a little woman had gotten the
better of one of them, and with nothing but a splash of water. Had Addy not intervened when he wrestled with that warrior, Matthew conceded that the outcome of the fight might have been different. It was at that moment, when she’d rushed into his arms after helping him defeat the Indian, that his heart had been hopelessly lost.

  While he’d thought he might be falling in love with Addy before, he’d been absolutely sure at that moment. Her quick thinking, her spirit, and her independent nature drew him to her as much, if not more, than her soft beauty. While she was resourceful and confident, her inhibitions -- and what he’d even describe as fear – about her feelings for him, had kept him from acting on his own feelings.

  It was obvious in her discreet glances that she was drawn to him as a man. Also obvious was her nervousness around him. Judging by everything he’d seen and heard from her father, she’d been fed a bunch of strict rules and lies about men and women. While he’d grown up watching his parents openly express their love for each other, it wouldn’t surprise him if Addy had been told that displays of affection were wrong and perhaps even sinful.

  Matthew fought his need to pull her closer, to kiss her again the way he’d done a moment ago. It was too soon to tell her he loved her. She needed time to sort out her feelings. If he told her now, she might turn tail and run. Her father’s strict upbringing had ingrained things in her mind, and until she was ready to break those ties, he had to bide his time. Once she understood her own feelings, she could be rid of her father’s rigid beliefs. She’d already broken free of him in bits and pieces on her own. It was only a matter of time before she let go completely, but it had to be on her terms.

  In the meantime, he’d show her slowly what love could be like between a man and woman. He could be selfish, and tell her what her father had said, that he considered her ruined and didn’t want her anymore. Matthew could never subject her to that kind of pain. It would be too easy to bind her to him if he told her. She’d stay with him only because she’d have no other options, not because she’d chosen him.