Wild Embrace

by Cassie Edwards

  But no matter how they whirled or sang or leaped, Elizabeth’s eyes constantly went back to Strong Heart. For her, there was no man more fascinating or more worthy of her attention.

  Soon enough, it was time to serve up the feast. The women had been busy attending large cooking kettles set over open fires and broiling salmon over the coals.

  She smiled at Many Stars as she stood with the other women as food was steamed in large, shallow pits filled with hot stones. Elizabeth had helped place the food on the stones earlier in the evening. The whole affair had then been covered with leaves and mats, with hot water poured through to the stones. Soon after that, the wonderful fragrances had wafted upward, proving to Elizabeth that this strange method of cooking proved most effective.

  She turned her eyes around quickly as the dancers stepped aside and one of them stepped close to the fire. When he poured large amounts of olachen oil on the fire, it blazed up fiercely, drawing sighs from the crowd who watched, their eyes wide.

  And the dancers continued to dance, this time more wildly, more athletically, as their bodies turned and twisted, and their heads bobbed.

  Elizabeth smiled to herself, deciding that, yes, night was a feast of sights, sounds, and smells—a night that she would never forget. Earlier, before the sun had set, there had been many contests—wrestling, shooting arrows and throwing lances at marks, foot and canoe races, and tugs-of-war. Strong Heart and Four Winds had participated in them all, the competition growing fierce between them. But in the end, they had fallen to the ground laughing, more amused than angered by whoever had won the most matches.

  Elizabeth now turned her eyes to Strong Heart as he sat so proudly beside her. Like his father, who sat on a high platform with his wife presiding over the celebration, Strong Heart wore a headdress bearing carved figures, painted and inlaid with iridescent shells, spiked with sea lion whiskers, and hung with ermine tails.

  His cloak was of costly sea otter fur and flakes of mica had been dusted on his face, glittering in the soft light of the fire.

  To Elizabeth, he looked like some mythical god, so breathtakingly noble in appearance, a man of inscrutable self-poise and dignity. It was at this moment hard to believe that she had ever had the opportunity to meet him, let alone be loved by him.

  And to think that soon she would become his wife was even more unbelievable, for he was not an ordinary man, by any means.

  He was special. So very, very special.

  Strong Heart felt Elizabeth’s eyes on him. He reached over and took her hand in· his, squeezing it lovingly. “My la-daila, you look beautiful tonight,” he whispered, his eyes admiring her. Many Stars had made the dress specially for Elizabeth out of white doeskin, fringed at the hem and at the ends of the long sleeves. Colorful beads and porcupine quills had been embroidered in intricate designs onto it.

  His gaze moved to Elizabeth’s hair, admiring the wreath of roses that Many Stars had also made for her, another token of her undying friendship for this woman whom Strong Heart had chosen to be his wife.

  Elizabeth lowered her eyes, blushing as she felt herself being scrutinized with such admiration by the man she loved. She never wanted to disappoint him, and did not feel as if she had tonight. She felt especially lovely wearing the gifts made by Many Stars’s delicate fingers. In time, when she learned the art of making these beautifully designed clothes, she would pay her friend back in kind.

  Many Stars was suddenly before her, offering her a large, elaborately carved dish, decorated with the crest of Strong Heart’s family, piled high with fish and cooked salmon on skewers.

  Elizabeth accepted the offering of food, as other maidens offered the same to Strong Heart and Four Winds.

  Long feast mats were unrolled before them to serve as a tablecloth, and for napkins, bundles of softly shredded cedar bark were distributed.

  Having not eaten since breakfast, Elizabeth joined Strong Heart and Four Winds as they enjoyed the feast, washing down the assortment of fish with clam juice.

  There was more dancing and merriment until the ghostly hour of midnight, delighting those who sat there. Then an elder of the village stepped forth, and began entertaining them with long, often humorous tales of the adventures or misadventures of such picturesque characters as the raven and mink, and of his own childhood, when he had been young, agile, and mischievous.

  When he was done, everyone walked to him and gave him warm hugs, then went their separate ways to their longhouses.

  Four Winds reached out and clapped a hand onto Strong Heart’s shoulder. “It is time for my return to Seattle,” he said. “My woman awaits me.”

  At this mention of Maysie, Elizabeth lowered her eyes, and thought of her mother. She would never understand how her mother could have chosen to be a prostitute. Yet who was Elizabeth to cast blame on anyone?

  Everyone was driven by something—and her mother had been forced to find a way to survive away from a man she had grown to loathe.

  “And so you plan to marry her soon?” Strong Heart said, rising with Four Winds. Elizabeth rose slowly to stand beside Strong Heart, locking an arm through his, as a way of proving to herself that she had gained more in life than she had lost when she had fallen in love with Strong Heart.

  “This is my intention, ah-hah,” Four Winds said, nodding. He glanced over at Elizabeth and smiled, then looked into Strong Heart’s eyes again. “And you? You will soon marry this woman whose hair is the color of flames?”

  Strong Heart turned his eyes to Elizabeth. He smiled warmly at her. “Ah-hah, soon,” he said, nodding. “Now that the salmon harvest is behind us, and my people are content with what life offers them, ah-hah, soon we will be celebrating a potlatch in our village. You will join the celebration? You will bring your woman so that she will celebrate, also, with us?”

  “Mah-sie, thank you for the invitation, but I do not think so,” Four Winds said, his face turning solemn. “You see, I must return to my people. I must prove to them that I am worthy of being called Suquamish again. They will sit in council and decide my fate, whether I live it as Suquamish among them, or whether I am destined to live as a white man, yet hidden away from the gang that I no longer belong to.”

  Strong Heart placed his hands on Four Winds’s shoulders. “My friend, should you be turned away by those in your village, come to mine, he said passionately. “You will be welcome.” He dropped a hand from Four Winds’s shoulder and clenched it into a fist, placing it over his heart. “My tum-tum, heart, is warm toward you, forever.”

  Four Winds glanced over at Strong Heart’s father, whose eyes seemed to be boring holes through him, then looked uncomfortably back at Strong Heart. “I do not believe your father shares the same sentiments as you about Four Winds,” he said, his voice breaking. “Four Winds has made his past, so Four Winds will make his future. But, again thank you, my friend, for your offering to Four Winds. Never will your kindness be forgotten.”

  “That is good,” Strong Heart said, nodding. “That is how it should be.”

  Four Winds hugged Strong Heart tightly. Then he stepped away from him to hug Elizabeth. Then he walked away, his chin lifted with dignity and pride.

  “There goes a good man,” Strong Heart said softly. As the drums drifted into silence in the distance, Strong Heart playfully lifted Elizabeth up into his arms and began carrying her toward his longhouse .

  “The true celebration begins now,” he said huskily. molding one of Elizabeth’s breasts with his palm. “You are not too tired, my la-daila, to partake in our private celebration of life and love?”

  Elizabeth lay her cheek against his chest. “I will never be too tired for you, my love,” she murmured, knowing that was true. From the depths of her being, that was true.

  * * *

  As Four Winds made his way toward his horse that was waiting with the others in the corral beneath the stars, his steps were light, his heart filled with thanks, and much love toward his friend, Strong Heart. Never could any man find such d
evotion in a friend—such unwavering loyalty. And Four Winds knew that even if he tried until the day he died, he could never find enough ways to repay Strong Heart for his kindness to him.

  Four Winds’s footsteps suddenly faltered and his breath quickened when he heard muffled voices coming from somewhere close by. Since everyone had retired to their dwellings, this made him suspicious of anyone who might be outside.

  He moved stealthily toward the sound of the voices, staying hidden behind trees until he found a group of braves huddled behind a boulder, the moon’s glow not yet reaching them.

  But Four Winds did not need the moon to identify the men. He knew their voices, each and every one of them.

  He pressed his back against a towering elm tree, and leaned his head closer to the speakers, growing cold inside over what these men were plotting without the consent of their chief or his son.

  It could bring the total wrath of the white community down on the Suquamish village.

  He did not intervene, knowing they would not listen to him. He learned that the braves wanted to travel to Seattle, and once and for all burn the old house that sat on the hallowed ground of their ancestors. They were also going to rid the land of the fishery that was a threat to their future, and the white man who had brought so much sorrow into their lives.

  * * *

  Silkenly nude, Elizabeth reached her arms out for Strong Heart as he washed the last of the glittering mica from his face. “Come to me, my love,” she said, her voice foreign to her in her need to touch his sleek body. His arousal was quite evident as his manhood stood erect, like a gleaming, velvet rod.

  Strong Heart tossed the cloth aside, his heart pounding hard within his chest at the mere sight of Elizabeth. Her opened arms beckoning to him promised much that made his heart sing. Strong Heart paused a moment longer to take in the loveliness of her.

  His gaze burned upon her bare skin as he looked at her perfect breasts with their taut nipples and tantalizing cleavage, her slim and exquisite waist, and her hips so invitingly rounded.

  His eyes stopped and rested on her central tuft of hair at the seam of her thighs. His hand circled his throbbing shaft as he moved to his knees and straddled her.

  “Place your hands where mine is,” he said huskily, sucking in a breath of pleasure as she did as he asked. He withdrew his own hand and threw his head back and groaned as her fingers moved up and down, making him feel as though he might explode within her fingers, the longing was so powerful.

  And when he felt her mouth on him, her tongue sensually stroking him, he stiffened and had to place his hands to her shoulders to urge her away from him, for another moment of such wonderful kisses and he would no longer be able to hold himself back.

  Strong Heart settled himself over her, his tongue brushing her lips lightly. He then pressed his lips softly against hers as he entered her in one thrust. His lean, sinewy buttocks moved, her hips lifted to welcome their even strokes. His hands went to her breasts, stroking and kneading them, as his mouth seized hers, darting his moist tongue between her lips.

  And then his mouth moved from her lips to her breasts, as he kissed first one nipple, and then the other. Then he sucked the nipples hungrily.

  Overcome by passion, Elizabeth gave a little cry. Again his lips were on hers, silencing her with a fiery kiss, his thrusts becoming more heated, driving harder inside her.

  She clung to him, this raging hunger that always came from being with him being wonderfully fed. She knew that his hunger was as great as hers, in the hard, seeking pressure of his lips as he continued kissing her, his steel arms enfolding her.

  An incredible sweetness swept through her then, and her body exploded in spasms of desire just as his own body quaked against hers.

  After the tempest had subsided, they lay in each other’s arms, their passion having given way to peace. Elizabeth scooted closer to him and kissed his brow. “After we are married, will you still find such bliss within my arms?” she whispered. “Can a love like ours last forever, Strong Heart? Can it?”

  He caressed her skin lightly with his fingertips. “Even after thirty-seven winters I shall still desire you,” he whispered huskily. “So shall you, Strong Heart.”

  “Even after we are grandparents of perhaps even a thirty-year-old grandson?” she said, giggling at the thought, hard to envision herself that old, and finding it even harder to envision Strong Heart as anything but young and virile. Even his father was still a handsome man in that he did not seem to be in his fifty-sixth winter of age.

  Her man would remain ageless, especially within the deepest recesses of her heart.

  “Even after we are grandparents of many grandchildren.” Strong Heart said, drawing a blanket over them as the wind whipped suddenly down the smoke hole.

  Elizabeth snuggled against him. “I had such a good time tonight,” she said drowsily.

  “That is good,” Strong Heart said, smiling into the darkness as the fire had now burned down to low embers. “It is good, also, to know that our people will not lack for nourishment this long winter ahead.”

  He leaned up on an elbow, smiling down at Elizabeth. “But one must never forget that the wind, rain, and sun also nourishes the bodies of the Suquamish braves,” he murmured. “There are many things that help sustain the body—food, pure air, water, and sun are our medicine.”

  A sound outside the longhouse, where the village now lay in a long past midnight slumber, made Strong Heart bolt to a sitting position. By instinct, he reached for the rifle that he kept on the floor beside the sleeping platform, then crept from his bed and moved stealthily toward the door.

  “Strong Heart?”

  The voice of Four Winds broke the silence, drawing Strong Heart’s eyebrows up. “It is you, Four Winds?” Strong Heart said, jerking the door open. “I would have thought you would be many miles away by now. Why are you here?”

  Elizabeth drew a blanket around her as she rose from the sleeping platform to stand beside Strong Heart as Four Winds entered. Something about his attitude and the worried expression on his face made her grow cold inside, and her pulse begin to race.

  Chapter 31

  My lips are always touching thine,

  At morning, noon and night.

  —JOHN CLARE

  “Tell me, my friend, what brings you back to Strong Heart’s dwelling?” Strong Heart asked, frowning as he gazed into Four Winds’s troubled eyes. “What keeps you from traveling on to Seattle, where your woman awaits your return?” “What I have seen and heard delayed my journey,” Four Winds said, his jaw tight.

  “What did you see?” Strong Heart asked.

  “I have uncovered a plan that includes some of your village’s most devoted braves,” Four Winds said, glancing over at Elizabeth. “These braves were in a secret council at the edge of the village, beside the corral. They have left to burn down the old house that sits on Suquamish hallowed ground and the fishery that has been built close to it. It is their plan to once and for all rid the Suquamish ancestral burial grounds of the evil white man who they feel is responsible for the raid on your village, along with the business that threatens to ruin the Suquamish’s future salmon harvests.”

  Elizabeth gasped and paled. Four Winds had just described her father, his house, and fishery. Although she no longer loved her father as a daughter should, she did not want to see him murdered.

  And what of Frannie? Sweet Frannie! She could be burned alive in the fire, or shot as she was trying to flee.

  No!

  It couldn’t be allowed to happen!

  She turned to Strong Heart and grabbed him by the arm. “Strong Heart, you’ve got to stop them,” she said, her voice quavering. “Please go and stop the braves.”

  “It is probably too late,” Four Winds said solemnly. “I came as soon as they left on their horses, but they have got such a head start, I doubt anyone could catch up with them.”

  Elizabeth lifted her chin stubbornly. “Strong Heart, I will go alone if y
ou will not accompany me,” she said firmly.

  When Strong Heart did not answer her, Elizabeth leaned up into his face. “I shall, Strong Heart,” she cried. “Although my father may be guilty of many evil things, I can’t allow him to be murdered. At least I shall try my damnedest to stop it from happening.”

  Having never heard Elizabeth speak a curse word before, Strong Heart realized just how determined she was to go to her father’s rescue. And he was glad to see such a dedication to her parent, even though Earl did not deserve such loyalty. It was proof that her heart was not easily swayed. And that was good.

  He gazed down at his woman for a moment longer, then turned to Four Winds. “I shall go and do what I can,” he said grimly. “You will ride with me again, Four Winds? It will be like many moons ago, when you and I rode side by side on all sorts of adventures.”

  Elizabeth heaved a sigh of relief, and even before Four Winds had agreed to accompany Strong Heart on the journey, she had rushed to the curtain at the far end of the longhouse and lowered it. Standing behind it, she began dressing. She was going. No one could keep her from it. Not unless Strong Heart tied her to the sleeping platform.

  “Ah-hah, my friend,” Four Winds said, nodding. “Four Winds will ride with you. While you are getting dressed, do you wish that I go and awaken other braves to accompany us? Do you wish to travel by canoe or by horse? I shall ready whichever mode of travel you prefer.”

  “It is best to go by horseback,” Strong Heart said, walking briskly away from Four Winds. He flung the blanket from around his shoulders. He yanked on his breeches, and slipped his shirt over his head. “If we traveled by canoe, and the authorities began hunting for us, we would be too easily spied on the river. On horseback, we can be more elusive.”

  He sat down and pulled on his moccasins. “And no other braves,” he said flatly. “The journey will go more quickly with less.”