Bright Arrow came to the cabin to fetch his Shooting Star shield, explaining that Windrider wished to see it. From the cabin’s shadows, Rebecca casually watched Windrider as he filled Bright Arrow’s pipe from his personal supply bag at his waist. How very kind and generous to share such a precious item as sacred tobacco. She walked to the doorway with her mate. He didn’t kiss or embrace her and she felt lonely and denied. She was worried over this new withdrawal from her. When she noticed Windrider’s intense gaze on her, she felt she was disturbing them. How she longed to join their conversation and to hear their exchange of news and tales. Soon she would have friends if all went as planned. She smiled to herself, then completed her chores. Noticing the juice Windrider had made from crushing wild cherries and adding honey, she lifted the container to her lips and drank the pleasant-tasting drink. She then went to lie on her bed, for she knew the men would remain beneath the stars on sleeping mats.
Time passed. The heat gradually vanished as the night air wafted through the cabin. She decided she must be awfully tired, for she felt giddy and her body seemed weightless. It was as if she were slowly sinking into a placid pond of warm liquid, yet she had no fear of drowning. Suddenly a torrid sun appeared to her, stretching out his scorching fingers to lift her from those watery depths and place her sweltering and glistening body on the lush bank beneath his fervid gaze. His searing eyes ignited her naked flesh to a white-hot glow. As adroit hands teased over her susceptible body, it responded of its own volition. But instead of her beloved’s face, Windrider’s smug visage dreamily wavered before her drowsy gaze.
For an instant, there was a haughty gleam in his eyes, and a leer curled up the left corner of his mouth. Then the baffling expression vanished as his keen gaze traveled over her lovely features, reflecting his immense satisfaction in bewitching her. It was as if he had the power to mesmerize her with those entrancing eyes, for she couldn’t pull her gaze from his or think clearly. His forefinger brushed over her lips and slipped inside her mouth. He withdrew it, then his leisurely swirling tongue erotically savored the nectar he had taken from her mouth. As he suggestively wet his inviting lips, she was spellbound.
It seemed as if she were watching this lusty scene from a distant cloud. This delusion was nothing like her confrontation with Jess and Lester, nothing repulsive or frightening, nothing to produce guilt or rejection. Windrider’s lips feverishly captured hers as his deft hands moved over her quivering frame. It was wildly and shockingly delightful to have the handsome and masterful warrior’s hands and lips stimulating her. It had been so long. since she had felt such blissful sensations. The last time Bright Arrow had stirred her blood to life, he had halted at the worst moment, leaving her tense and flustered. And he had coldly and selfishly left her in that state!
In her euphoria, Rebecca felt naughtily daring and free. Windrider’s sexual prowess seemed so different from her lover’s touch and talents. It was a dream, and dreams could not be controlled. Dreams could not harm a person, and this dream was wickedly delicious. Her arms went around the fanciful image’s neck, crushing her lips and body against his and relishing his taste and smell. He was as skilled a lover as he was a warrior.
Her body had a mind of its own, and it demanded that her conscience not interfere; it demanded that she seize this moment and all it had to offer. At her uncontrollable responses, his kisses deepened and he ardently meshed his mouth with hers. The sensations were wonderful and tantalizing; she savored them and mutely invited more. Smiling, she watched him use his braid to titillate each nipple, then encircle each with his hot tongue. Soon his caresses grew bolder. Yet this dream image was content to kiss and to fondle her. Perhaps she refused to allow the dream to progress further, but she possessed no will or desire to halt his siege upon her pliant body. When she moaned and writhed upon the bed, he smiled at his success, smiled as if he had won some vital battle, smiled as if he had discovered some monumental secret. “Sleep. You will be mine soon,” the illusion murmured, then disappeared while she was engulfed in flames of desire. Her head whirled wildly, then she lost reality. When she finally aroused herself, it was dawn and the dream was a vivid memory. She scolded herself for such a wanton fantasy, for she truly loved Bright Arrow, and she earnestly wanted to help him regain his soul.
Bright Arrow and Windrider were very busy for the next two days, hardly noticing her presence. That suited Rebecca, for she needed some privacy and distance from the two enigmatic men. They deftly constructed a travois to fit on the horse which Bright Arrow had purchased on this last trip. Rebecca wondered if her mate had planned to leave this area even before he learned of the attacks on their cabin and on his friend. Of late, he had been so secretive!
Windrider had recovered sufficiently to leave for his camp. It had been decided that he would walk behind the travois as a rear guard. The day before, he had sent Bright Arrow to recover his remaining weapons and belongings, which he had hidden along the trail on his way to their cabin. While Bright Arrow was away, Windrider had guarded his family with great care and caution. He had made no attempt to speak with Rebecca or to come near her, even when she had served his midday meal. He had spent time sharpening several knives and arrowheads, and he had replaced the string on a bow and checked the arrows’ bindings. Abruptly she had realized whose weapons Windrider was repairing and sharpening— Bright Arrow’s. Was this to save time, or was her mate incompetent in that area now too?
Early the next morning, the horse was loaded with supplies and the few possessions they would need. The two older girls were placed upon the travois in a sunken area for their protection and transportation. Bright Arrow had built a cradleboard in which Rebecca could carry Tashina during the journey. All appeared ready just after sunrise. Then her Sioux husband returned to the cabin for something. Time passed.
Today, Windrider was dressed in buckskin garments freshly washed by Rebecca. A war club and knife were strapped to his waist, and a bow and quiver of arrows were slung across his back. Gazing at him, Rebecca concluded he was every inch the elite and fearless warrior. She was glad to have Windrider at their backs; he had always been kind and respectful to her, and his prowess was immense in battle. He would be a good influence and helper for her beloved.
Bright Arrow called Rebecca into their cabin for a last time. She left the girls and Windrider to answer his summons. Upon entering, she halted abruptly and stared at him. Bright Arrow was also dressed in buckskins: leggings, moccasins, and breechcloth. He was wearing his weapons and wanapin, a talisman in the shape of a silver arrow. He could do nothing about his nape-length hair, but his headband was in place. Despite his physical decline, he was handsome and compelling.
He moved with renewed courage and assurance as he came toward her, observing the way she was gaping at him. He held out his arm bands and asked her to secure them around his biceps. She hesitated briefly as she absorbed the significance of his clothing and mood. With trembling fingers, she tied the arm bands in place. After completing the task, she slid her hands down the smooth lengths of his arms. Her inquisitive gaze came up to join with his ebony one. Her heart fluttered, for he still was irresistible. Once he had been such a mountain of masculinity and prowess, so superior to all other men. His resolute gaze declared he would become such a man again. She was warmed and touched to see him this way. In less than a week, their dying world had been reborn. He had regained his soul, his spirit, himself. It thrilled and enlivened her to see that her love was transforming himself into the unique male he once had been. Yes, things were going to be fine for them.
In a husky voice for her ears alone he murmured, “I am a man in heart once more. Soon I will be a man once more in body and skills. Never will Bright Arrow walk the earth in shame again. I will stand tall with my eyes open before me. I will cower before no man. I am Wanhinkpe Wayakpa, son of Wanmdi Hota, chief of the Oglala and greatest warrior to ride the face of Mother Earth. Stand at my side, and I will love and protect you as no other.”
Sh
e noted the confidence and happiness beaming upon his coppery features, features lined with boldness and determination. Even if his moods had swung back and forth during these past days, she savored this one. “You are a man to stir a woman’s heart and body to passion. You are a man to instill fear and hesitation in your foes. You are a man above others, my love. My heart flutters with joy and pride to be your woman. But this is not the time to tempt me with… wifely needs,” she jested, playfully squeezing his arm.
Bright Arrow clasped her face gently between his powerful hands. He lowered his head and sealed their lips in a provocative and stimulating kiss. When the kiss ended, he stated honestly, “You have been my heart since the moon my eyes touched on you. You will be my heart until it is cut from my body by an enemy or until the Great Spirit calls my feet to walk with Him. Before we seek this new life, my heart, know my love for you is strong and true.”
Tears moistened her eyes. “You have come home to me, Bright Arrow; at last, you are whole again. Do not worry, my love. When your people see you once more, they will be filled with joy and relief. We will make them understand our love. They will not reject you.”
They embraced fiercely, then parted with smiles. He picked up his remaining possessions, and they left the cabin without bothering to close the door or windows. Bright Arrow placed the cradleboard with Tashina in it on Rebecca’s back. He secured it in place, then took his position at the head of the little group. He seized the horse’s bridle and began the trek to the Cheyenne camp. The older girls laughed and glanced all around as the exciting journey got underway. Tashina wiggled to gain sight of her noisy sisters. Rebecca looked back at Windrider, who nodded and smiled at her, a curious expression in his dark brown eyes. She ignored it. In one hand he gripped his bow, an arrow in place in readiness for danger. She absently wondered which of his two wives received more of his attention and affection.
She turned and walked beside the travois near the girls to make certain they remained seated. She couldn’t explain the overpowering sensation that Windrider was staring into her back so hard that she could literally feel the force of his gaze. He had never been offensive or cold to her. Maybe it was her wild imagination at work again. She should be gratified and relieved to have another powerful man along this trail, just in case danger befell them.
Rebecca’s erotic dream about Windrider haunted her mind. Why had she fantasized about him and why now? She had seen him many times before. She admired and respected him, and she liked him as a person. Why did that sensuous dream distress her? Because it had seemed so real? Because she had awakened nude? Because she felt that such a wanton dream was a betrayal of Bright Arrow? How had her mind created such variety in kisses and caresses? She had known only one male! Had she said or done something to expose her wanton imaginings to Windrider! She trembled as she comprehended what raw emotion she had read in his enticing gaze. She dreaded to think what might have happened had the illusory episode taken place in reality while Bright Arrow was suffering such a loss of confidence.
After hours of walking, the group stopped to eat and rest. They consumed dried meat, wild fruit, and cornpones. It was the Indian custom to rest and nap at this time of day during the heat. The girls were so excited by this new adventure that they played energetically at the edge of the shallow stream. But Rebecca’s mind was elsewhere.
She had tried to force thoughts of Windrider from her mind, but they refused to leave. It was unjust to dwell on such ridiculous ideas, she scolded herself. Windrider was Bright Arrow’s friend! He wasn’t tempting her! A friend didn’t lust after another’s woman, nor plot to get her alone. Nothing had happened when Bright Arrow had gone to fetch Windrider’s belongings. There was no way Windrider could have come into the cabin that night, not with Bright Arrow sleeping nearby. It had been only a dream. She had to forget it and quell these wild ideas.
What was wrong with her? Was this delusion about Windrider a way to forget what Jess and Lester had done to her? Was she mentally replacing a crude nightmare with a romantic dream, which would have been different had the seducer been Bright Arrow? Had it been a result of their lack of lovemaking and that recent frustrating experience? Had it been a spiteful dream, a way to punish her love for his indifference toward her? Did she truly have lustful cravings for Windrider?
Rebecca shook her head of flaming hair to dispel such foolish ramblings. It was wrong to imagine such things. Windrider would never harm the mate of his friend Bright Arrow! He would never try to seduce her. And she could never wantonly encourage him.
“Do you have some pain in your head?” Bright Arrow inquired, finally relaxing after hours of bone-jarring and muscle-punishing exercise.
Rebecca met his gaze and shook her head once more. “I was just remembering… those two men who tried to kill us. It was awful, my love. I’ve never known such terror or utter helplessness. If you hadn’t returned at that moment…” Her voice trailed off as she wept softly, for she had never lied to him before. He wasn’t a jealous man, but she couldn’t expose her real concerns. He would watch and study each word and move between them!
Bright Arrow grasped her chin and raised it. He smiled into her teary eyes. “It is passed, Rebecca; let such an evil moon die,” he patiently advised. “Rest. We will leave soon. Do not fear. You have Bright Arrow and Windrider to protect you.”
Her tawny gaze shifted to where Windrider was playing with the girls near the stream. “Yes, we have Windrider,” she concurred.
Bright Arrow observed her from the corner of his dark eyes. She was in a strange mood; her odd tone was inexplicable. He wondered if she disliked Windrider, or if she was angry because the Cheyenne warrior had failed, albeit against his will, to protect her during that grisly bout with the two white men. How could she doubt the prowess of a great warrior like Windrider? He suddenly fretted. Surely she was not comparing him with Windrider? But how could she avoid noticing what was so obvious? He glanced down at the roll of fat around his waist. He was winded from his morning’s journey. His instincts were not as keen or swift as they once had been; his senses were not as acute. His body didn’t respond as quickly and agilely as he desired. His muscles were sore; they had lost their previous strength. His braids were missing because he had tried to live the life of a white man. He should bow his head in shame before the Great Spirit, for he had allowed his body and mind to lose their prowess. He must and would regain his former rank and power!
In the camp of the Cheyenne, he would train as never before. He would ride and hunt with his friends and brothers. He could not enter the Oglala camp in such sorry condition. They would laugh at him and taunt him. Who would want to welcome a fat and dull-witted brave back into the Warrior Society! He had lived in the white man’s way for so long that he looked and behaved as Clay Rivera. He would become the indomitable and matchless Bright Arrow once more. Soon he would be a noted warrior again. Soon no male would be comparable to him—in looks or skills! He smiled and leaned his head against a tree to rest for a brief spell. Sleep overtook him.
Rebecca studied her unfortunate lover. She hadn’t wanted to accept such changes in him; she had denied them to herself as long as possible. Tears burned her eyes, for it would be a long and arduous trail back to the man he had been. Did he have the courage and stamina to win this difficult battle? Could he retain his hope and patience long enough to succeed? Did he realize the height of the mountain he was to climb? She prayed he would triumph in his new life, but it was going to be hard for all of them.
The girls had fallen asleep on mats laid out by Windrider, who was nowhere in sight. She inhaled wearily, then went to refresh herself in the stream. Have I changed, too? she mused, leaning over to check her image on the placid surface. Is there some reason why he’s lost interest in me? Am I no longer desirable? Inexplicably angered, she slammed her hand down, agitating the water. As the moving water mastered itself, Windrider’s face wavered in the rippling surface. The wanton fantasy flashed before her mind’s eye and she
flushed in embarrassment. She tensed and tried to break their locked gazes. He knelt beside her on the bank. It was silly to behave this way! she told herself. Rebecca sat back on the grass, trying to still her racing heart and appear calm. She pushed stray locks of damp hair from her face.
“Your eyes speak words of confusion and fear, Rebecca,” the Cheyenne warrior murmured softly. ‘This troubles me.”
Stunned, she gaped at him. When she found her tongue, she stated hoarsely, “I didn’t know you could speak English. Why have you kept it a secret from us?” she inquired suspiciously. She apprehensively traced her words to make certain she hadn’t said something misleading.
“I hear and speak the white tongue. Bright Arrow knows of this gift. There was no reason to tell his woman. I do not wish the white tongue in my mouth until danger strikes. It is a weapon to be used in secret against your people. You are sad this sun?” he asked knowingly.
“Why are you telling me today, Windrider?” she asked, wondering if there was some significance to his revelation. Why hadn’t Bright Arrow told her? She could have joined their talks! She felt a sense of betrayal and deceit in this long-kept secret.
“There is no smile in your eyes or laughter in your voice. Are you afraid to enter my camp? Do you fear Bright Arrow cannot become a warrior again?” Windrider’s gaze shifted to his friend, his emotions concealed. ‘There was a time when his name could strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, a moon when all respected and were in awe of him. It has saddened my heart to watch such destruction.”
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