by HELEN HARDT
Naomi set a bowl of oatmeal porridge on the table in front of Ella. She seasoned her cereal with some butter and maple sugar and wondered how she could get oats to Raven in the dugout.
“Do you have any soft bread this morning, Mama?”
“Yes, if you want it.” Naomi set a plate of bread on the table.
“Thank you.” Ella deposited a few slices into her apron pocket once her mother’s back was turned. She hastily finished her oats and tea.
Tea. Raven might appreciate some tea. But did Indians drink tea? Or coffee? Ella had no idea.
“Mama, where’s Papa this morning?”
“He left early. To minister in town.” Naomi sighed. “I do hate to say this, but I fear it’s a lost cause, Ella.”
“As do I.” Ella held out her bowl. “I’m quite famished, Mama. Might I have some more porridge?”
Naomi filled her bowl. “Bread and two bowls of porridge? I thought you were done growing.”
“Just hungry.” Ella hedged. “Sukie took a lot out of me this morning. The little fiend kicked me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Shall I have a look?”
“No. I’m used to it.” Ella seasoned her oats and picked up her bowl. “It’s a lovely morning. I do believe I’ll enjoy the rest of my breakfast outside, if you don’t mind.”
“Enjoy it while you can,” her mother said. “It will be frightfully cold here once winter comes.”
“No colder than in Minnesota, I’m sure,” Ella said.
She walked outside and headed toward the dugout, bowl of porridge in hand.
The sun shimmered in the cerulean sky. Ella gazed at a few puffy clouds that hovered over the Black Hills. A beautiful day. When she reached the door to the soddy, she hesitated. Should she knock? She glanced around, making sure she was unseen. Then she rapped on the wooden door. Once, twice, thrice. “It’s me. Ella.”
She entered. Raven sat as she had left him, his back plastered to the wall. His black eyes seared her.
“How are you this morning?” she asked.
“Better. I think.”
“Do you need to—” Warmth crept onto her face. How did one bring up the subject of personal needs?
“I did. Earlier.”
“Goodness!” Ella set down the bowl of oats. “You must take care to not be seen.”
“I am Lakota. We are trained to…tread quietly. And invisibly.”
“Well”—Ella picked up the pail, which was nearly dry—“I must fetch you some fresh water.” She dropped the pail with a jerk. “I’m so sorry. I brought you breakfast.” She retrieved the bowl of porridge from the dirt floor and handed it to him. “I hope you like oatmeal. I added some butter and sugar.”
“You limp, itka,” Raven said. “What is wrong?”
“Oh, that dratted cow, Sukie,” Ella said. “She kicked me in the shin.”
“May I look?”
Look at her leg? How could he suggest such an improper act? “I’m fine, really. Now eat. Please. I hope it’s satisfactory for you.”
“It will be fine. I thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Now I shall see to your water.”
“Please.” His deep voice trickled over her like hot maple syrup. “Stay with me. While I eat.”
“But you need water.”
“It can wait. I would rather have your company, itka.”
“You called me that yesterday. What does it mean?”
“Itka means bloom. Or blossom. I call you that because your eyes are the color of the violets on the hills, when they first bloom. At first bloom they are darker. Then they lighten in the sun.”
“Oh, my.” Ella breathed, willing herself not to faint dead away. Did all Indians have such a way with words? Embarrassed, she changed the subject. “I must have a look at your leg. You said you’re feeling better?”
“Yes.”
“Thank goodness. If you haven’t developed a fever by now, you likely won’t. You’re quite lucky, you know. Most bear wounds are more severe.”
“Yes. I know. I got away quickly. I only wish I could have saved my horse.”
“Be glad you saved your own hide,” Ella said, inspecting the wound. It was still raw, but looked no worse than before. “I see no reason why you can’t return home tomorrow. Perhaps even tonight if you’re feeling up to it.” A pang of regret washed over Ella at her own words. If he left, she would not see him again.
“I will leave as soon as I am able. You need not be burdened with me any longer than necessary.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—” Ella motioned to the bowl of cereal he still held. “You must eat.” She looked away and began tidying the small room. “You are no bother. I am happy to look after you.”
“I am glad, itka.” She turned and watched him take a spoonful of oats into his mouth. He winced.
“Is something the matter?”
“It is…sweet.”
“Of course it is. I told you I added sugar.”
“I am not used to it so sweet.” He took another bite. “It is good.”
Ella smiled. “I’m glad you like it. I brought you a few pieces of bread, too. I’m sorry I have no milk. After she kicked me, the silly cow who you think is worthy of the utmost respect kicked over the pail of milk.”
A raspy chuckle escaped Raven’s throat.
“A fine thing, I’ll say,” Ella scolded. “What is so funny? Not only have I a terrible Charley Horse, but we’ve no milk for breakfast or lunch!”
“I do not laugh at you, itka,” Raven said, “but at the cow. Please”—he patted the ground next to him—“sit with me.”
He drew her like a magnet. “Ooph,” she said, as she sat down on the dirt floor.
“What is wrong?”
“My shin. Where Sukie kicked me.” Ella arranged her skirts so no skin on her legs showed. “I’m fine.”
“It pains me that you hurt.”
“Yes, well, it’s part of life here in the hills, as I’m sure you know.” Ella sighed and then smiled. Goodness, he was a handsome man. High cheekbones and a straight nose. Radiant long black hair. Though unkempt at the moment, she imagined it braided, entwined with feathers. He would be quite a sight in full warrior regalia. Her cheeks warmed and she looked away. “Did I bring you enough food?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Good.” She fidgeted with her apron pocket and began to rise. “I must see to your water.”
Raven touched her arm. A burning spark sizzled underneath her skin where his fingers lay. “Please,” he said. “Stay. I find your presence…soothing.”
“Well. All right.” Ella stilled, but did not attempt to remove his hand from her arm.
“Tell me, itka, do you have a”—Raven cleared his throat—“man that you wish to marry someday?”
What a question! The warmth in her cheeks turned to scalding. She tensed under his touch still on her arm. “There was a man in Minnesota. Andrew is his name. I always thought… But then Papa brought us here, to minister to the gold prospectors.”
“Were you in love with this Andrew?”
Was she? She’d always assumed they’d marry. She’d looked forward to a home and children. She held him in high esteem and valued his friendship. But did she love him? “I don’t know. I’m not sure.” How had she never considered whether she’d loved him? She stiffened further. This conversation was inappropriate and extremely uncomfortable. But she couldn’t help asking, “What about you? Do you have a wife?”
He shook his head. “The spirit has not yet led me to my wife. There is a maiden, Dancing Doe, who would like to be my wife. I care for her but…”
“You don’t love her.”
“No.” His tone was firm, commanding. “I do not.”
“Well, I don’t quite understand how your people…marry, I guess. Not all marriages are based on love.”
“But they should be,” Raven said.
“Yes.” Ella nodded. How had she intended to marry a man she wasn’t sure she loved? She
stared into the black orbs of Raven’s eyes—beautiful onyx eyes fringed with long ebony lashes. “They definitely should be.”
“My father, Standing Elk, is a very wise man. He says the Great Spirit will show you the mate of your soul, and you will know him or her instantly.”
“Oh?” Ella shuddered, her voice cracking slightly. Perhaps he didn’t notice. She hoped not. This topic had gotten far too personal. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t nervous because of the impropriety of their conversational subject. No. Her stomach fluttered and twisted into knots because when she looked at Raven, she felt the wisdom of the Great Spirit guiding her. She eyed his hand, which still lay on her arm, and felt him tighten his grip.
“Will you come closer, itka?” he whispered.
She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. But she leaned toward him, his full mouth, not nearly so parched as yesterday, too tempting to resist.
“Hopa. Lila Wiya Waste.” He brushed his lips against hers.
Ella stiffened. She had never been kissed before. Andrew had never taken such a liberty. She should stop this. Now. But she had no desire—not even a fleeting one—to end such a beautiful moment.
Raven’s lips were firm yet soft against hers. A chill rippled over her skin despite the summer heat, and the strange yet oddly pleasant flutter between her legs returned.
Raven brought his palm to her cheek, cupped it, and pressed his lips more firmly to hers. He flicked his tongue across her upper lip and then her lower.
“Will you open for me?” he whispered, his breath warm against her chin.
Icy heat speared through Ella’s body. What was happening to her? “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“Open your mouth.”
“But…why?”
He chuckled, a soft rumble against her mouth. “So I can kiss you.”
“But…you are kissing me.”
“I want to show you a real kiss, itka.”
“I…I don’t understand what… What is going on? Raven…I…” Ella stopped and leaned backward slightly to take a much needed breath. She panted, her chest heaving, her body quivering. “What are you doing to me?”
“Do not be afraid. I would never harm you.” He raised his other hand to her face, cupped both her cheeks, and seared her with his gaze. “I want to kiss you because you are mine, Ella Morgan. I have finally found you. You are the mate of my spirit.”
Chapter Four
Raven closed his eyes against the light streaming into the dugout as the door opened. His heart jumped at the thought of seeing Ella. But it was the fair face of Wandering Bear, his brother, that met his gaze.
“You are surprisingly easy to track, Raven,” Bear said in Lakota.
Raven smiled. “You are just a very good tracker, Bear. The best in the camp. I expected you would show up soon.”
“Are you hurt?”
Raven bent his leg and winced at the slight twinge. “A bear attacked me, but the wound was not deep. I was lucky to get away quickly. Unfortunately, Golden Feather is gone.”
“Golden Feather returned to camp this morning. He is fine.”
Raven sighed. His horse was safe. “I thank the Spirit.”
Bear knelt beside him. “How did you come to be here?”
“I didn’t realize I had wandered so far from camp looking for herbs. I found the barn on this land and I took refuge. My leg was bleeding.”
Bear removed the fabric bandage and prodded the wound in the dimness of the soddy. The dull ache made him tremble.
“I am sorry,” Bear said, replacing the bandage. “But it is not deep. Can you come home with me now?”
Raven fingered the fabric covering his wound. Go home? Two days ago he’d have jumped at the suggestion. But not today. “I cannot. I will not leave this place.”
“Why not?” Bear’s golden eyes widened. “This is a white man’s homestead. You are close to the town where the prospectors drink and gamble. You are not safe here.”
“There is no danger for me here.”
“I disagree, brother. You must leave at once.”
“I cannot and I will not.” Raven set his jaw. How could he make his brother understand? “There is a maiden here. She cared for me. I will not leave her.”
Bear stood and paced the short distance to the door. “You are being stubborn.”
“No.” Raven rose. His thigh grumbled, but he met his brother’s golden gaze. “I have found her, Bear. I have found the mate of my spirit.”
Bear’s facial muscles tightened. Even in the dim soddy, Raven noticed. Bear didn’t understand. “A white woman? What about Dancing Doe?”
“Dancing Doe does not belong with me.” Raven touched his brother’s forearm. “She never did. She is yours, Bear, not mine.”
Bear sighed. “She does not see it that way.”
“She will, in time. She is young yet. She has not yet reached her eighteenth winter. She is yours. Do not give up.”
“And you? You truly believe this white woman is yours?”
“I do not believe, Bear. I know. Her name is Ella. And she is mine. I feel it in my soul, in the breath of my body, in the beat of my heart. When I saw her, I came alive.”
Bear smiled his crooked smile. “So the Raven has fallen. You’re not playing the trickster, are you? This is the truth you speak?”
Raven let out a chuckle. “No trick, brother.”
“And have you told her how you feel? That she is the mate of your spirit?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Raven smiled, his heart lurched. Chills skittered over his skin. Pleasant chills he’d never experienced at the thought of Dancing Doe or any other maiden. Yet he couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped his throat. “She didn’t say anything. She ran out of here as fast as a jackrabbit.”
Bear spat out a throaty guffaw. “I see. Well, good luck, brother. If you are determined to stay here, there is nothing I can do.” He brushed the dirt from the knees of his buckskins. “But I urge you to take care. These white men are a danger to you.”
“Ella’s father is a preacher.”
“You are a heathen to him, then. He will not allow you near his daughter.”
“He will have no say in the matter. She is mine, and I intend to have her.”
“I see. What did you say her name was again?”
“Ella.”
“Ella. Hmm.” Bear lifted one eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I will return to camp and tell Summer Breeze and Singing Dove you are recuperating from an injury and you will be fine. I will not tell them I fear for your safety. Nor will I tell them of your white woman. Perhaps you will come to your senses and return home.”
“I will return home. With my Ella.”
Bear shook his head. “I am leaving a fresh pair of buckskins for you. You should burn the ones you’re wearing. Plus they are hacked to bits. They are in my saddlebag, and I left Spotted Eagle hobbled not far from here. I will leave them at the door.” Bear nodded and left the dugout.
Raven smiled. He had a battle to wage. A battle for his mate. His groin tightened at the image of her beautiful face, her silky sable hair. Yes, a battle. But he was a seasoned warrior. He had every intention of emerging the victor.
* * *
Ella grunted as she lugged the pail of water toward the soddy. The thought of seeing Raven frightened her beyond measure. He ignited emotions within her she hadn’t known existed. She would have stayed away indefinitely had she not felt guilt over leaving him for several hours without fresh water.
No. That was a lie. She crossed herself and asked quickly for forgiveness. She would not have stayed away indefinitely.
She couldn’t.
Her hairbrush bulged in her apron pocket. What had possessed her to bring it along? He would never allow her to brush his hair.
So why did she want to so badly?
She hesitated before the door and then knocked softly. “Raven?”
&n
bsp; “Come in, itka.”
Her heart thudded as she pushed the door open. “I’m…sorry I let you go so long without a pail of water. I—” Her words caught in her throat.
“You can look at me, Ella. I will not harm you.”
“I…I know that. It’s just…”
The whoosh of Raven’s sigh met her ears.
“I believe you fear what you do not understand,” he said. “You are like all white eyes.”
Ella snapped to attention and set the bucket down with a soft thunk on the dirt floor. “I am not like the white men who fear your kind, Raven. I can’t believe you would say such a thing!” She paced in small circles. “I have always believed that everyone, no matter what his skin color, should be able to live his life as he sees fit. So long as it’s a moral life, in the eyes of whatever god he chooses to worship.”
“Calm down, itka. I meant no disrespect.”
“Well, I should hope not.” She stared long and hard at his bronze chest, her heart skipping, and then lowered her gaze to his legs. “You have new pants.”
“Yes. My brother came by after you left this morning.”
“But your injury. It needs to be… That is, I need to check it.”
“I am healing quickly. I am lucky. My brother… He wanted me to leave with him.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“I told him I would not leave you.”
“Oh, good Lord in heaven.” Ella raised her hands to the ceiling. “This can never be, Raven. Don’t you understand? You barely know me. I can assure you I’m not an easy woman to live with. You’ve seen how I let an old cow get to me.”
“You are kind and compassionate. And beautiful.” He chuckled. “I care not whether an old cow vexes you.”
“I’m from a different world.”
“As was my brother, and he is now Lakota.”
“But he was younger, I assume, when he came to you. I—” She gasped when Raven braced himself against the hay covered wall and stood. “Goodness! You shouldn’t be up.”
“I have been up twice already today, Ella. I am a warrior. I am fine.” He came toward her and enclosed her in his arms. She had forgotten how tall he was. Ella, like her mother, was tall for a woman, but Raven’s chin rested on the top of her head.