Stolen Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  A rider topped a nearby hill, then reined his horse before he was spotted. He retraced his last few steps and dismounted quickly, dropping his reins to the ground, certain his well-trained beast would remain still and silent while he grazed and awaited his master’s return. Stealthily the man made his way to the top of the hill and lay flat against the grassy earth to conceal his presence. Lifting stolen field glasses, he secretly observed the curious scene at the pond.

  Bright Arrow pulled off his garments and dove into the soothing water. With smooth, powerful strokes, he swam to Rebecca and tried to reason with her, but she refused to listen or to discuss the matter further. She shouted at him to leave her alone as she furiously splashed water into his face. Using all of her skills and strength, she hurriedly swam to the nearest bank and pulled herself from the water. Bright Arrow followed her and seized her arm. As she struggled to break his oak-hard grip, she berated him and beat on his chest with her other hand. She wiggled and stamped at his bare feet, forcing him into an erratic dance to avoid the blows. Though she ignored his orders to stop her outburst, he was finally able to capture her other flailing hand and pinned them both behind her water-beaded back. He demanded she listen to his words. When she refused, he attempted a different approach to reach her—seduction.

  At that distance, the furtive interloper could not hear the words that passed between the bronzed-skinned man and the white woman, but he knew they were quarreling violently. He carefully observed the expressions and actions of each, but it was the nude white woman with whom he became captivated. His starving senses feasted on her naked body, glistening with drops of water. Her legs were long and slim, her waist narrow, and her stomach flat. Each buttock was a tempting handful of taut flesh. Her skin looked as smooth as the surface of a tranquil pond. Wet curls, the color of the reddish-brown mountains not far away, hung luxuriously down her back. Her face, with its upturned nose and naturally pink lips, was too beautiful to be real. With eyes exposing angry flames of golden brown, she seemed more entrancing than the loveliest sunset or the most delicate flower.

  The observer’s gaze drifted down her throat and halted. He noted that her breasts were ample and firm, and the enticing vision had a stimulating effect on him. His pulse raced wildly with his heartbeat and respiration, and he grimaced at the throbbing in his erect manhood, which was pinned between his body and the hard ground. He shifted his position to ease his discomfort, only to clench his fists in frustration when the Indian fastened his mouth on those entreating mounds, then swirled his tongue around each peak to arouse them. The woman squirmed and tried to stop his assault. He watched as the Indian imprisoned both her hands within one of his, the other hand skillfully roving her body and attempting to inflame it with the same fiery passion that was vividly exposed by the Indian’s hardened shaft. The Indian’s mouth covered hers, cutting off her protests. It was clear the Indian had the upper hand physically, and the tortured witness wondered if he should interfere. It was just as obvious that the girl wanted nothing to do with the persistent man. When his lips moved down her throat, her resistance was voiced loudly.

  She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as if summoning all her strength to spurn him. Shaking her head, she screamed, “No! Let go of me, you snake!”

  Bright Arrow fused his gaze with hers. “I want you, Rebecca. Soon I will be gone. Does this not prove my love and desire?” he asked hoarsely, wrapping her hand around his rigid maleness.

  “Lust does not prove love,” she argued, breathless from her previous exertions. “Truth, honesty, sharing— they prove love and faith. You offer me nothing but a joining of bodies, when I need a joining of hearts and spirits. Until you are willing to grant what I need, do not come near me again.”

  Bright Arrow could tell she was serious. Still, he knew a vision could be shared only with the council until it was fulfilled. If he broke that law, it might prevent his suecess; and his success might be the only path to saving their love. As much as he wished he could explain, he dared not. He had to believe her love would outweigh her anger. He dropped his hands to his sides. “I will explain all when I return. If you love me and trust me, you will wait for my words and my return.”

  Rebecca quivered with pent-up frustration and anger. Needing release, she instinctively brought up her hand and was about to slap him, but comprehending her imminent action, she balled her fist and cursed him instead. “Damn you, Bright Arrow! You’ve ruined my life and happiness. Do you get pleasure from hurting me? Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? You’re trying to destroy me. Be merciful and end it here and now. We both know there’s no hope left for us. Free me from the madness that drives us apart.”

  Bright Arrow shocked her with his response. “Free you so you can flee into the arms and tepee of my friend Windrider?” he sneered in jealousy. “I have done nothing to harm us. I do all within my power to find a way to keep you. Am I not a man once more? Do I not capture your eyes and desires more than he does? You cannot have him until I free you, and that sun will never show its face! You are mine!” he declared forcefully. “You know the laws; you know I cannot speak of my vision until the time is right. You seek ways to build this wall between us that you spoke of; I do not. You will wait for my return and release. If you do not, I will slay both of you!” His onyx eyes blazed with gravity and fury.

  “How dare you threaten me!” she panted in astonishment. “Aren’t you forgetting I’m not your lowly slave anymore? And I’m not your wife! You don’t own me. I’m free to come and go as I please, just as you do. You’re the one who chose Windrider to take your place. You’re constantly prodding us toward each other. You’ve done everything to push us together… except stake me to his sleeping mat! If you don’t want me, I’m perfectly capable of selecting a new mate. I certainly don’t need or want your help to replace you!”

  She pounded her fists on his strong chest. “You bloody fool, there’s no way you can blame me for this estrangement between us. You created it long before we came to the Cheyenne camp; it has only grown larger here. You deny me for weeks and months, then seek me out when your lust burns out of control. How dare you accuse me of betrayal; no man has ever taken me except you!” Her eyes narrowed and chilled as she accused, “Now I understand why you followed me here. Never before have you loved in such a vile and punishing way. What’s the matter, my love? Are you afraid Windrider won’t take me off your hands? Is this little tirade supposed to finish your unpleasant task of getting rid of me? If it hurts so much to lose me as you claimed, then why are you so relaxed, so cheerful, so resigned to the matter? You hold my fate and happiness within your hands, but you won’t share yourself with me. Don’t you see that the vision quest also affects me? What has happened to the man I met so long ago, the man I loved above my own life and pride?”

  “He nearly destroyed himself trying to prove his love,” came the unexpected answer. “I have never wanted to be rid of you. Why do you say such a wicked thing? I will never free you to go to Windrider or any other man. Marriage or not, you are mine. Can you deny I am the only man you love and desire?”

  They stared at each other. “Can you deny our life together is almost over? Can you deny we both know what answer lies in your head and mouth, ready to come forth when your council asks, ‘Do you choose this white woman or your people and destiny?’ I say such things because, you imply them each day. Love that demands proof is not strong and pure.”

  He held himself silent as her words invaded his mind.

  The observer on the hill wondered what was being said between the furious warrior and the riled white woman. Whatever it was, the warrior’s passions had cooled and his temper had kindled. She spoke to him again, then he merely stared at her as if unable to reply. The onlooker watched the woman pull on her clothes, concealing her body from his hungry eyes. She whirled and said something more to the man, then mounted and rode away. He remained where he was until the warrior had dressed and ridden off in the same direction, toward the Che
yenne camp. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he fiercely craved that white woman, and he was going to have her…

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rebecca returned to camp in a state of agitation and inner turmoil. She couldn’t understand why Bright Arrow would push her toward his friend, then be angry and insulting when his selfish plan worked. Had he made love to her to prove his lingering hold over her? Prove it to whom—to her or to himself or to both? Had it been a vain show of power, possession, and masculinity? Did he honestly think she and Windrider were carrying on an affair? If so, was he so jealous or vindictive that he wanted to destroy any budding relationship between her and his friend? How could he impel them toward a union, then threaten them for seeking one?

  Or had she misread his meaning? She reflected on the words he had spoken in the forest. He had said Windrider would take her to live in his tepee, and he would keep her safe, an he would provide for her needs. He had never actually said she was to live in Windrider’s tepee as his wife or his woman! She anxiously recalled his words and expressions once more. Bright Arrow had not come right out and said such words as “marriage” or “joining.” But he had implied them, hadn’t he? No, she determined, she couldn’t be wrong about his meaning. Too, there was Windrider’s behavior and conversations to prove she was not mistaken. Her beloved had spoken with Windrider many times, and the Cheyenne warrior had gotten the same impression—if Bright Arrow couldn’t keep her, he wanted them to become mates. If Bright Arrow hadn’t been referring to marriage, then what? Surely he didn’t mean for her to live here as a servant or slave!

  Rebecca pondered Bright Arrow’s passion and fury. Could it be he was simply jealous of Windrider? Could it be he was angered by the idea of losing her to another man? The old Bright Arrow had not been one to accept defeat or rejection, weakness or dishonor. To willingly sacrifice his woman could seem cowardly to him. To lose her over another’s orders could appear a choking defeat, his humiliating failure to defend her from harm. If he were aware of Windrider’s desire for her and if he suspected her impending acceptance of Windrider in his place, he could see these developments as betrayal and rejection. What did he expect from her? Did he expect her never to love again or marry? He was the one walking away from their relationship! He was the one suggesting she go to his friend!

  Was it merely his singed pride? To accept orders was one thing, but to have others rule his life was quite another. Perhaps rebellion and stubbornness still flowed in his veins. Perhaps he was furious for losing control of his life. He didn’t want to make the choices before him; yet he couldn’t avoid them. Perhaps he had just realized the consequences of sending her to another man. As he had insinuated before, saying it and doing it were vastly different. Perhaps he had suggested that union at a time he had seen no hope for them. And now he had changed his mind, seeing the possibility that he had spoken too soon and caused an unwanted rift. Perhaps he had wanted to enjoy these last days with her on his mats.

  Suddenly she recalled something he had murmured in her ear while they were making such savagely sweet love. She had been so enchanted by his immense prowess and sensual assault that his words had drifted past her. He had mentioned something about being glad she would be within his reach while he was trying to sway the council in her favor. There was something about visits… What had been his exact words? She closed her eyes and mentally tried to slip backward in time to withdraw the vital clue that could explain his stormy outburst. She could not recall. Who could recall words mumbled huskily from a mouth that was blissfully tormenting her senses? Who could have heard muffled words when love’s moaning music and her drumming pulse filled her ears? She trembled at the stirring memories.

  She tried to reason out his meaning. Surely he had meant “within reach” until the council voted no. Surely the visits were for the children as he had promised once before. Why would he visit her once she was the wife of another man? Even though Windrider was his friend, he could never be a guest in their tepee! It was true that Bright Arrow was being pressed into a corner, but he couldn’t expect her to meet him secretly after she belonged to another! Once he rejected her, it would be over between them forever…

  Turning her mind from her confusing reverie, Rebecca began helping Sucoora with the men’s traveling supplies, suddenly eager to have both men out of her sight for a while. When Bright Arrow finally returned, he completed his packing for the journey, ignoring Rebecca completely.

  Suddenly, Windrider entered the tepee, dragging with him a prisoner. She was a lovely, though dirty, white girl with bound hands. He pushed the girl to a mat and turned to relate his adventure. When the frightened creature lurched toward the entrance, Windrider raised his fist in warning and shouted for her to halt. The girl did not understand his Cheyenne words, but she grasped the meaning of his threat. She backed away from the handsome, intrepid warrior.

  When Windrider said he was going to trade the girl to another warrior, Rebecca quickly spoke up in the girl’s defense. “Please let her remain here for a while, Windrider, at least until you return. She’s scared and she’s hurt,” she fretted, noticing an injury on the girl’s arm. “She’s too young and lovely to be abused by a rough owner. Please, may I keep her? I’ll trade whatever I have of value, and I’ll share my meals with her,” she offered.

  Windrider stared at Rebecca in confusion. “You wish her to be your slave?” he asked, deliberating the matter quickly but thoroughly.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I’ll see what I have to offer for her,” she stated hopefully, then turned to check her parfleches.

  Windrider caught her arm, halting her movement. “If you wish to have the white girl as a slave, she is yours as a gift,” he said calmly, realizing Rebecca would need help when he sent Sucoora away.

  Bright Arrow silently observed his interaction but did not interfere. He knew why Rebecca wanted to help the girl, and he also suspected why Windrider allowed her this request. If he weren’t careful, Bright Arrow thought, he wouldn’t have to argue for Rebecca’s return before his council! In his apprehension and jealousy, he had ruined a special day, a beautiful farewell. She was right; it did appear he was driving her into the arms and tepee of his friend! She truly believed he had chosen Windrider to take his place! In her eyes, their blissful moments this afternoon had been a punishment, a cruel display of power. But she was mistaken! Windrider was mistaken!

  Suddenly he recalled what he had said to Windrider after his vision while his mind was still groggy. He hadn’t meant for Rebecca and his friend to share love, sex, or marriage! He reflected on the verbal exchange that had taken place that fateful day. In his dazed state, he hadn’t truly conprehended what he had said or recalled the words until now. “Seek to pull her into your life and tepee.” His misleading words echoed across his brain. Yes, he had to take the blame for their misconceptions. He had to find the privacy to apologize and explain. He dared not leave for a lengthy trip with such bitterness and suspicion between them.

  Bright Arrow’s gaze slipped over the striking captive, then he witnessed the exchange between Rebecca and Windrider. Standing before the kneeling prisoner, he blocked her view of the people who were deciding her fate. When she lifted her head, Bright Arrow’s heart skipped several beats. He stared at her intently before she lowered her head to weep over her terrifying predicament. Then he smiled mysteriously.

  The two men left for a final word with the Cheyenne council. Rebecca approached the girl whose face was covered by her scratched hands as she softly wept. Rebecca watched her for a moment. Recalling the demands of captivity, she felt her heart going out to this fragile girl who was clearly younger than she was. She couldn’t bear the thought of this delicate creature being abused by some harsh master. “What’s your name?” Rebecca inquired pleasantly, touching her shoulder.

  The girl looked up at the sound of English words from a feminine voice. The woman kneeling before her had tawny eyes, lightly tanned skin, and flaming chestnut locks. S
he was white! Her voice was soft and soothing, her expression friendly and encouraging. “Are you a captive, too?” she asked nervously, almost joyfully.

  Rebecca smiled genially to relax her. She swiftly noted the girl’s features and colorings and decided she was very attractive, despite her dirty clothes and tangled hair. She had the bluest eyes Rebecca had ever seen, the shade of a peaceful sky, and they sparkled as if containing tiny stars—or was it merely glimmers from the moisture of unshed tears? Her hair was mostly a honey hue with streaks of gold and silver, as if some force had captured rays of the sun and beams of the moon and lightly stirred them into a pot of honey and dyed her hair with the magical mixture. Her skin was as creamy and white as fresh milk or puffy white summer clouds.

  Distracted, Rebecca replied before thinking, “I was long ago, but now I’m joined to a Sioux warrior. My name is Rebecca Kenny. Sucoora calls me Becca.” Suddenly she wished she could take back her words. After all, they would both be living here with Windrider, not her Sioux warrior. What would this girl think of her when she learned the truth? The girl appeared to settle down; she wiped away her tears and came to full alert. “What’s your name and how did Windrider capture you?” Rebecca asked as she cut the girl’s bonds and handed her a wet cloth to soothe the rawhide burns.

  She cleared her throat and replied, “I’m Bonnie Thorne. I was traveling with my father and some soldiers when those savages attacked us. They killed everyone but me.

  Though Rebecca was unaware of it, Bonnie had not understood the meaning of the Indian word “joined;” she had assumed the beautiful woman was using a polite word for mistress. Also, she didn’t know the difference between Cheyenne and Sioux; to her, all Indians were the same. She had been terrified by this horrible experience, for she had never seen a wild Indian before this trip. She wondered if she would be viewed and treated as the black slaves of the South. She was afraid to attempt escape and petrified not to try, and she was delighted to have found a white woman who could help and advise her.