The area where they journeyed consisted of rolling hills with occasional gullies and ravines. Ripened shortgrass concealed most of the ground, though flat, submerged rocks exposed their gray speckled surfaces along the way to break the golden covering. Every so often the land would swiftly decline until a towering cliff would block a path carelessly taken. It was obvious that both men knew this area well, and when a violent storm threatened to overtake them, Windrider directed the group to a cave at the base of one of the towering cliffs.
Noticing several thirsty scrub trees nearby, Windrider hurried to them. He used his powerful legs to break branches from them for a fire before they could be wet beyond use. Bright Arrow led the horse and travois inside. They had barely entered the darkened area when the storm unleashed its fury. Bright Arrow removed the cradleboard from Rebecca’s back and placed Tashina with the other girls.
As Windrider built a fire and Bright Arrow unloaded the travois, Rebecca talked with the girls to calm their anxieties. She withdrew handmade dolls from a pack and encouraged the girls to play while she prepared a light meal. As she did so, the two men stood at the entrance watching the storm and speaking in low voices. When the meal was ready, they sat around the fire to eat. Rebecca carefully fed Tashina the mashed vegetables and finely cut meat, delighted that her nineteen-month-old daughter was weaned. Afterward, the girls played on a large buffalo mat until sleep overtook them.
The rumbling thunder and dazzling lightning had moved off into the distance, but a heavy rain continued. Bright Arrow announced he was going hunting for a deer, for he knew they frequently roamed the area. He said it would be a simple task, for the creatures would be seeking shelter from the storm. He gathered his weapons, smiled at her, then left quickly. Clearly, his spirits were recovering gradually as was his body!
Rebecca stood near the opening to watch his exit. When he was out of sight, she leaned against the rocky surface at her back, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. A hand went against her jawline as a thumb moved over her lips, then cupped her chin and lifted it. She opened her eyes just as Windrider’s eager mouth claimed hers. She was drawn into his steely embrace and held possessively as the feverish kiss assailed her dizzy senses.
Windrider’s hands imprisoned her head between them. His fingers vanished into her flaming hair as his mouth possessed hers urgently, almost savagely. When his aroused body pressed snugly against hers, she knew his passion was not false. Had she been wrong? She must know! Her arms slipped around his waist, and she clung to him, returning his kisses with fiery results. Another groan escaped her lips as his mouth softened on hers, but his grip tightened around her.
He murmured huskily into her ear, “I want you, Rebecca. I would give all my possessions to have you, to have no one between us. If it is not Windrider you love and desire, do not tempt me this way.”
She wondered if he was inducing her to make a commitment to him. He had given his word not to press her. Why wasn’t he willing to keep his distance until she had made a final decision about Bright Arrow? Did he suspect she was trying to rekindle her relationship with her husband? Was he afraid she might succeed? Was he demanding a promise from her? She had told him she must wait until she was positive there was no chance of marriage for her and Bright Arrow. He had said he didn’t want her to come to him until she was free in heart and body, until it was over between her and Bright Arrow. He had said he didn’t want to sway her, to lure her from his friend while she was confused and angered. She knew that love was his motive, but love for whom? Freedom was his desire, but whose freedom? Was she mistaken in believing he plotted against her? Or had Windrider carelessly ensnared himself in the trap he had set for her? Could she trust him? Believe him?
“Why do you not answer?” he inquired apprehensively, his gaze trying to penetrate her obscure one. “Why do you cloud my mind?”
“I’m not sure what to say, Windrider,” she replied, stalling for more time to think. “The ending of something precious is hard. If we did not share children, the answer would be simple. Many times I have felt Bright Arrow should leave me and return to his people. It has pained me to watch him grow soft in body and weak in spirit. If I said anything to make him feel he must stay with me, I feared he would become restless and bitter. He would feel trapped. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to demand he leave. I didn’t know which would hurt the most. His spirit was dying. I didn’t know how to stop it. I wondered if I was responsible for changing him from the man I met. I was as vulnerable as he was, Windrider. I was hurting too, but he could only see and feel his own pain. I tried to excuse my cowardice by saying that if I truly loved him, I would settle for less than perfection. I would forgive his weaknesses. I told myself to be patient and kind. I kept thinking he would awaken from his deep slumber. I couldn’t force him to stay or leave. One person can’t see inside another’s heart or mind. One person cannot choose another’s destiny. Only the Great Spirit has that power and right. It was wrong for me to interfere in his decisions. He must find the answer within himself, then seek the courage to make it happen. His past life created ghosts which lived in the cabin with us. They refused to grant him peace. They haunted him; they tormented him; they drew his mind to where he should be. His suffering came from resisting the truth.”
As if dreading to hear her response, he asked tensely, “Do your words say you choose Bright Arrow?”
“My words say the decision has never been in my hands or power, Windrider. Bright Arrow chose to capture and enslave me. The council chose to banish him when he refused to cast me aside. He chose to defy their vote. He chose to ruin his own life and mine when he decided to punish himself and me for his losses. He chose to remain in the wilderness, just as now he chooses to return home. Now, he must choose his tribe or me, for the Oglalas will not allow him to have both. In his place, what would your choice be, Windrider? There is nothing I can do except wait for him to find himself. The decision will be hard for him. I will not try to sway his mind or heart, for perhaps our destinies were not meant to be joined. If it should as you said, when the moment comes, I will walk away without pleas or tears.”
“Will you walk to me?” He pressed for an answer. He captured her chilly hands and placed kisses over them, fixing his gaze on hers.
“Is it right to speak such words at this time?” she replied with a question, alarmed and shocked by his seemingly undeniable sincerity.
“Are words less important than actions? You will give me kisses and embraces, but you can offer me no hope, no promise? Will silence stop feelings?”
“Until the matter is settled with Bright Arrow, we should not speak or touch in this way, Windrider. What if Bright Arrow returned and saw us? We must not hurt him. When his choice is made, then I will speak my mind and heart to you,” she promised. Whatever happened, she vowed inwardly, she would clarify matters with Windrider when the time came.
“You fear to accept the truth that stands before you?” he challenged her.
Rebecca fused her gaze to his and responded faintly, “Yes, Windrider, I fear to accept the truth before my eyes. I fear to speak the words in my heart and mind. This is not the time and place for such secrets to be shared. Whatever happens, I will reveal them to you.”
“It will be as you say,” he conceded, knowing he could not and would not keep his word. He was plagued by his own choices. Should he continue his dangerous game? Had he been wrong to start it, wrong about her? Should he expose it to her and ask for forgiveness? Should he bury it forever? Or should he make the game real…
Windrider’s gaze traveled over her lovely features. There were so many possibilities. What if Bright Arrow cast her aside? What if she chose him over Bright Arrow? What if he won his victory? But other fears cried louder in his turbulent mind. What if the Oglalas accepted her into their tribe? What if she was lost to him forever?
“Will you let me hold and kiss you once more?” he entreated, wondering if it would be for the last time, and pained by the thought. When sh
e nodded, he hungrily closed his arms around her and his lips over hers. He seemed pleased when she responded to him. Finally he released her, then quickly left the cave to master his warring emotions.
Rebecca observed him as she had Bright Arrow, while tears eased down her cheeks. “Oh, Windrider,” she murmured sadly, “why are you doing this cruel thing to us? You were not with Bright Arrow when he captured me. You do not love me or want to marry me. Your honor would not allow you to seduce and steal the woman of your best friend. Why have you set this trap for me? Why do you seek to dishonor and destroy me? Do you love Bright Arrow this much? Do you want to plant seeds of fury in him, fury against me? Do you think I am that evil? How far will your deceit go?”
Yet her mind challenged, But what if you’re wrong? What if his feelings are real? What if there is no evil plot against you? What if he truly loves and desires you? What if Bright Arrow and his people reject you? What if you are freed? Will you reach out to Windrider? She couldn’t deny that he inflamed her senses and ignited her passions. She couldn’t deny that if there were no Bright Arrow…
Chapter Seven
The next day was hectic for everyone. They traveled quickly to end their arduous journey, and the small group entered the Cheyenne camp just before dusk. When the Cheyenne people were alerted to their arrival, they surrounded Windrider and his friends. Little Feet and Moon Eyes clung tightly to their father’s legs. At the same time, Tashina snuggled against her mother’s chest, curiously peering at the commotion. Being encircled by many people was a new experience for the children, especially because they couldn’t understand their words. At first, they were shy and fearful. Rebecca knew it would take a while for them to relax and adjust.
As Windrider greeted his people, Rebecca scanned her new surroundings. This camp looked much like the Oglala camp where Bright Arrow had lived. The largest and most colorful tepees were in the center circle. With an ever-widening band, the circle of tepees increased to make an encampment of over two hundred dwellings which indicated a warrior society of approximately three hundred. From Windrider’s reception, it was evident he was highly respected and loved. She wondered if a man of such valiance and distinction could be guilty of plotting against her.
Many warriors gathered around to question Windrider and to gape at Bright Arrow. Never had they expected to see the illustrious Sioux warrior in this condition. In fact, they had not expected to see him ever again. His banishment was no secret to them, nor was Windrider’s continued friendship and concern. Dark eyes roved Bright Arrow’s body, and keen senses perceived the drastic changes. Their reactions were varied. Some were sad and sympathetic; some were angered; some were amused or pleased; and some were repulsed. Bright Arrow had to force himself not to show his embarrassment.
The two wives of Windrider stepped forward to take charge of the feminine group. Rebecca was apprehensive about staying with the two women whom Windrider had offered to discard for her—if he were being honest. She asked herself how he would behave now that he was home. She couldn’t forget what it had been like to be in his arms. Perhaps it would be best if they weren’t allowed any privacy. Fearful of exposing her emotion and doubts, she dared not look at Windrider or Bright Arrow as the two wives led Rebecca and the children into their tepee.
The two men stayed behind to talk, to share the news of Windrider’s new coups and to announce Bright Arrow’s return to his lands. Only the last fact brought looks of surprise to several faces. “Our brother has returned to us,” Windrider stated in a clear and confident voice. “We must help him regain his skills and hone his instincts. He will be reborn in our camp. When the moon comes, he will seek forgiveness and understanding from his people. Bright Arrow wishes to return home. He wishes to return to the life of a warrior. The Great Spirit sent me to his wooden tepee to bring him home. The Cheyenne will know great joy and victory in helping him.”
“Come,” Chief Yellow Robe invited. “We will sit and speak. We will smoke the pipe of Grandfather. We will listen to His words.”
In Windrider’s tepee, the genial Sucoora offered Rebecca and her girls nourishment. Fortunately, Sucoora could speak broken English, and Kajihah was Oglala and spoke the Sioux tongue. Between the two languages, Rebecca had no trouble conversing with the two females, who occasionally broke into rapid Cheyenne and laughter. Rebecca was told that Kajihah and Windrider had two girls and one boy. Sucoora tended the boy more like he was her son than Kajihah’s. When the children had been fed and put to bed on thick buffalo mats, the women talked while Sucoora and Kajihah did beading on new garments for their family.
Rebecca learned that Kajihah’s girls were five and seven, and the boy was three. She had been a gift to Windrider eight years before, given by her father after Windrider had saved his life. Sucoora’s son had taken ill and died at age four, and her expression and tone hinted that she could not bear more children. Rebecca realized that Windrider did not have a child less than three years old, and she wondered why. She remembered what he had said about giving her more children, children to replace the ones she might lose to Bright Arrow’s tribe. As his wives worked and talked, Rebecca considered each in turn.
If Kajihah had been with Windrider for eight years, that meant she had left the Oglala camp the same year Rebecca had been captured and enslaved. She wondered if it had been before or after her humiliating experience. Kajihah did not say, and Rebecca did not ask. Appearing to be in her mid-twenties, Kajihah’s skin was dark brown, as were her hair and eyes. If first impressions could be trusted, Kajihah’s gaze and mood alerted Rebecca to the woman’s vanity and coldness. She was a slightly plump creature with an aloof and secretive air. Although she wasn’t verbally bossy, there was a dominating aura about her, one which implied that Kajihah gave the orders and was obeyed. So far, the other woman had done nearly all of the work, though, from the beading in Kajihah’s hands, Rebecca could see she was talented in that area. Somehow Rebecca couldn’t imagine Windrider making passionate love to this arrogant woman.
Sucoora had given her age at twenty-nine winters old, two years older than Windrider. Her expressions indicated she was a serious person, but a kind and gentle one. Her skin was lighter than Kajihah’s, with a much redder tint, and her eyes were like two large brown balls with smiles painted on them. Her sleek, black hair was braided almost to her waist. She had been joined to Windrider’s brother, but, when he was slain, Windrider had taken her into his tepee. Without children of her own, she helped with Kajihah’s and took on many of the chores. She had been learning English from Windrider’s brother before he was killed by the Crow and was delighted to have Rebecca there to teach her more English. She said it would help her when dealing with the white traders; naturally Rebecca agreed to help her and warmed to her infectious smile. Windrider’s two wives seemed direct opposites in mood and personality. As Rebecca watched Sucoora string the tiny beads, she tried to envision Windrider kissing and embracing this woman as he had her; she could not.
Neither wife had Rebecca’s height or slimness, though Rebecca knew she was considered tall for a female. Both wives were plump, indicating that Windrider was a good provider—and they were voracious eaters. Rebecca reflected that she was glad she would have still fit into the dresses she had worn at eighteen, had she still owned them. The only place her figure had increased was at her bosom; that had happened after her pregnancies and breast-feeding. Neither wife was beautiful, she observed, but both were pretty. Sucoora had a softer appearance and manner about her, and Rebecca promptly decided that she liked Sucoora, reserving her decision about Kajihah until she got to know her better. She wondered if she should feel guilty about her wanton behavior with their husband, though she didn’t.
The hour grew late. Sucoora prepared two sleeping mats for the men near the tepee entrance, which seemed to be the only difference in the regular sleeping arrangements. Kajihah went to sleep with her two girls, and Sucoora lay down with the small boy. Rebecca’s children shared another mat, while she was d
irected to a mat near those of the two men. Soon all were sleeping soundly except Rebecca.
When the two braves entered the tepee just before midnight, Bright Arrow took the mat nearest the opening. Having smoked pipes laced with strong herbs, Bright Arrow fell asleep a few minutes after his head touched the mat. As the moon shifted, its light fell over Rebecca’s face. She blinked, then looked out over the reclining males, gazing up into the clear night sky. A hand reached across the short distance between the two mats and grasped hers. Windrider squeezed her quivering hand, holding it until she was deep in slumber.
Rebecca could hear dogs barking and horses neighing. Voices filtered into the quiet tepee, telling her it was nearing time to arise. Her eyes fluttered and opened and, glancing over at the women and children, she saw that no one was stirring yet. Turning her head toward the entrance, she found Windrider’s intense stare focused on her. Her pulse and respiration quickened, though she was relieved when he did not try to touch her. This siege on her emotions had to be kept secret between them! Abruptly he smiled, then sat up. When he yawned loudly to arouse the others, she hastily shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
The men went hunting that day, and Rebecca was delighted by the reprieve from Windrider’s covert attentions. If he were not truly serious, she mused, why would he risk discovery? Surely she was mistaken about his motives. But whatever his plan, she wished the situation were easier to control.
Rebecca spent her day with his two wives, their children, and her girls. The older girls made friends incredibly quickly and easily. Despite the language barrier, they spent much of their day playing and watching the Cheyenne children. The two wives went about their chores, with Kajihah laboring at an exceptionally slow pace. Rebecca offered her assistance, and it was instantly accepted. Kajihah seemed eager to care for Tashina while Rebecca helped Sucoora with the tasks, a sly way for Kajihah to avoid work. The four older girls were under the supervision of an adolescent named Prairie Flower, daughter of Shooting Star and White Bird.
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