by Gen Bailey
Her blond hair had escaped the knot that she’d used to tie it back, and golden-blond tendrils fell in loose ringlets around her face. Her dress was simple, a casual affair consisting of a tight-laced structure with elbow-length sleeves that made her waist look as if he might span it with his hands. Petticoats that were stiff and hooped on the side brought her a measure of dignity, though the front of her gown was dangerously low at her chest, beneath which her nipples played an enticing game of peek-a-boo with him.
He watched as a curl bounced around her face while she worked and he knew a desire to twirl its softness around his finger so he could study the differences in its color, from pale blond to tawny to daffodil. She was a delicately built woman, small and feminine, and without consciously willing it, his loins stirred to life as he watched her work.
To counter the effect she was having on him, he sat up, yawned, stretched and then said, “I believe I know how to keep you from becoming pregnant.”
She clasped her hand to her chest, and sent him a surprised look. “You gave me a fright, sir. I didn’t know you were awake.”
“I have roused myself only recently.”
“Yes, you have been asleep for some time. I’m glad you were able to rest easily and long. I have meanwhile made us a soup for our supper. There were many roots and vegetables that you collected, and I have used some of them.”
“It smells like a feast,” he commented, “and I am hungry.”
She picked up one of the shells that he had fashioned into a bowl and using it, scooped out some soup. “Shall I bring the stew to you?”
“I can come there to you,” he said, whereupon he struggled to get up to his feet. It wasn’t as easy as he’d thought it would be, and he had almost collapsed before she rushed to his side to steady him.
“What are you thinking?” she scolded. “You need rest in order to recover. One would suppose, the way you are acting, that you battle with bears daily.”
He smiled. “Almost.”
She helped him to sit back upon his bed, then straightened the blanket and pine boughs around him. “I’ll bring you the soup.”
“Good,” he said, shutting his eyes momentarily. “Good.”
She was gone only a moment. “Careful,” she said as he made to take the shell full of broth and vegetables out of her hands. “It’s hot.”
He grinned at her and caressed her fingers as he accepted the shell. When she didn’t pull away, he stared straight into the depths of her gentle blue eyes, as though by doing so, he might see into her soul.
He murmured, “I was watching you as you worked.”
“Were you, sir?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you see?”
“A beautiful woman. A woman I would like to spend the rest of my life with, if only things were different.”
She gazed away from him. “But they are not different,” she said, and pulled her hand away from his. “Do you like the soup, sir?”
He took a sip. It was very good. “You spoke true,” he remarked. “You are a good cook.”
She smiled at him, and as she did so, it was as if the sun shone upon him in this dark and dreary cave. It was good, if strange, for it made him feel as if he were seventeen again, complete with all the wild impulses of the very young. So lovely was she, he thought, he might likely die a happy man to simply look at her.
Upon that thought, he drank the rest of the soup without once dropping his gaze from hers. Indeed, with his eyes, he caressed her. At last, the stew was gone and he handed the shell back to her.
“Would you like some more?”
“Nyoh, yes, please.” He watched as she came up to her feet and stepped toward the fire, his glance admiring the feminine sway of her hips as she moved. When she returned, he again caught her hand, only this time, he didn’t let it go. “I have found a remedy for one of our problems,” he said.
“Oh? ”
“Yes, I have come to realize that there is a root that grows with profusion in these woods, and that, if I prepare it in the correct manner, it might well keep you from becoming pregnant. I used to watch my grandmother make medicine from these roots. Hopefully, it is not too late in the season for me to find this plant and pull it up, roots and all. I will begin a search for it as soon as I’m able.”
As he stared at her, he took note of the rosy color that was flooding her countenance, even as she glanced away from him. But again, she didn’t withdraw her hand from his.
In due time, he said, “In my dreams, Wild Mint showed me this root. I had forgotten it. But I was never apt at learning all that my grandmother knew, though she did try to instruct me in it.”
Sarah frowned at him. “It is a shame that your grandmother wasn’t able to teach you all of her skills. I’m certain she knew much more about these things than I will ever know. But, sir, I would like to note an observation.”
He nodded.
“I notice that you speak of Wild Mint as if she were a living being.”
“Indeed I do. That is because she does live,” he said, “but no longer in the flesh.”
“I see. I have said it before, so forgive my repetition. But I am sorry for your loss.” She retrieved her hand from his hold, and fetched the shell from him. “Would you like more? ”
He nodded, and she again arose to step toward the fire. When she returned, she began at once to speak to him. “I must admit, sir, that your logic at times confuses me.”
He slanted her a frown. “I’m sorry. What have I said now that seems to defy logic?”
“Some of the things you spoke of earlier—there are a few of your ideas that are troubling me.”
“Tell me.”
“One of those notions is that you spoke of marriage and told me without reservation that if I were to become pregnant, I must marry you. On the other hand, if I were not to become pregnant, then you don’t wish to marry me at all.”
“Yes, I did,” he agreed. “But I spoke without understanding you completely. When you told me how it is with you, I changed my mind. This is why I’m happy that I’ve been shown this root. It might prevent the problem of pregnancy from occurring altogether.”
“Yes,” she said, but she sat silently before him, staring at her hands. Something was wrong.
“Is there another concern on your mind?”he asked.
“Yes, sir, there is,” she replied. “By bringing up this subject of pregnancy, I am urged to think about marriage. Now ’tis not that I’m trying to marry you, sir. On the contrary, ’twould be most implausible to do so, considering who you are and who I am. But why were you suddenly demanding that I marry you, as though you were a tyrant?”
“This is a good question,” he answered, “and I can see how it might confuse you. Let me explain: A child is a most valuable person to a tribe, and it is agreed upon by my people that a child must be brought into the world in the right way. This requires many sacrifices on the part of the parents, whose duty it is to bring their baby up right. He must receive training in the ways of the tribe, but mostly he must be raised with love and devotion. It is my belief that a child prospers best when he has two parents who are deeply in love with each other. It is as though the couple passes on this love to their child.”
As he spoke, he watched her closely, for the subject was an important one. He saw her hesitate and frown before she said, “You speak of marriage, sir, and you speak of love. Tell me, since this is how you see it, do you love me?”
Her question took him aback for, though skilled in the powers of observation, he hadn’t seen it coming. Carefully, he schooled his features into a frown, so that his countenance wouldn’t mirror his surprise.
Did he love her? He certainly wanted to make love to her. But that wasn’t the same thing and he knew it.
Was it possible for him to love another woman besides Wild Mint? Unfortunately for him and the problems that confronted him at this particular moment, he had no answer to that.
Therefore, to avoid giv
ing Sarah a direct answer, he asked, “Have we not already made love?”
Her stare at him was more than a little annoyed. “Sir,” she said, “you are avoiding answering my question.”
He took a deep breath, then agreed, “You are right, so let me say this: There is much passion between us. It is a good foundation for two people.”
“But do you love me, sir?”
Feeling a little trapped, he stared at her, and despite the fact that she was putting pressure on him, he couldn’t help but admire the gentle rise and fall of her lashes. Did he love her?
At last he responded, asking, “Do you love me?”
She shook her head and bemoaned, “I asked you first, sir.”
This was the sort of discussion, he thought, that a man, regardless of race, would rather avoid. However, that wasn’t possible in this situation, simply because she was sitting directly in front of him, and she expected an answer.
In the end, he opted for the truth, and he said, “I little know how to answer you, so let me say this: Because of you, my world has grown brighter. Because of you, I look to each new day as a day that I might share with you, and it is good feeling. Do I love you? It is possible, and I wish I could say yes without reservation. However, I cannot. But this I do know, and this I can tell you true: Because of you, I have returned to the land of the living, and I no longer ponder upon death longingly. Moreover, when I look at you, I admire all that you are. I desire your embrace in the most elemental way a man can, and I would like to see my children growing in your belly. If that be love, then nyoh, I love you.”
She was silent for a moment, while her gaze sought out almost anything but him. At last, she asked, “But you are also in love with Wild Mint?”
“I am,” he said. Ah, he was beginning to understand where this was all leading. He added, “All that I do is because of my love for her.”
“Is there a place then, truly, for me in your heart?”
“You are already in my heart. You have been there for many days now.”
“But in second place.”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. Instead, he leaned toward her and took her in his arms, bringing her in close and nestling her head against his shoulder. Spotting that lock of hair that had teased him earlier, he grabbed it and twirled it around his finger. He took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet fragrance of her before he said, “I see that we need to speak about this so that we understand each other better. Know that my intentions toward you are those of marriage. Now that we have shown each other our passion, we should follow that up by making the pledge of devotion to one other. But, even as I know this is how it should be, I cannot do it, unless there is an urgent need to do it. A pregnancy would be such a need.” He hesitated briefly as he chose his next words with care. “Otherwise,” he continued, “I can marry no one until my obligation to Wild Mint is brought to a conclusion.”
A long pause followed, until at last, she said, “Yes, so you have told me. But I suppose what I little understand is why? I fail to grasp the problem with your marrying another or even falling in love with another, as long as it wouldn’t prevent you from scouring the countryside to find Wild Mint’s murderer.”
He sighed deeply. “I cannot do it because . . .”
Sarah waited. “Because?”
“Because . . . she is still with me.”
He felt her body start. She said, “I beg your pardon?”
“She is still with me.”
“But she is dead, is she not?”
“Nyoh, yes.”
“Then you mean she is still with you in spirit?”
“Nyoh, yes, and also in body . . . sometimes.”
“In body? Sir, I fear I fail to understand.”
“Neither did my family. It is why I left my village and ventured out on my own to find her killer. To those who loved me, I became a brooder, a loner, for I spent all my days with her, a ghost, and ignored my family. They feared my influence over others in my clan, for they thought that at her death, I had lost my wits. But I had not lost my sanity. She was truly with me.
“Often I would return home from a hunt and find a fire lit for me,” he continued. “My meals were fixed as she had done when she was alive, and my living space within the longhouse was cleaned. On inquiry, I discovered that no one had been in my quarters. Over time she began to appear before me; she would share my meal and we would talk.”
Sarah sat back to look into his face. That she was disturbed by his confession was evident, and she said, “How bizarre. How long did this continue?”
“To this day.”
“To this day?” she repeated, her astonishment almost tangible. “And how long were you married?”
“A very short time, although we had been in love all through our youth, almost since the time we could walk. But our marriage was no more than a few seasons old—perhaps two or three seasons.”
“About nine months?”
He nodded. “Sometimes she would appear before me, a misty image of how she had looked in the flesh; sometimes she would merely talk to me. We walked together. We laughed together as of old. And though her touch upon me was as cold as the ice on a winter river, still, she comforted me in my grief. She comforts me even to this day.”
“You are still in love with her.” It was no question. “Tell me,” she said, “is she with you now?”
“Sometimes.”
“At this very minute?”
“No. She is not here now.”
“And so the truth, as I understand it, is that you can’t marry anyone because you are still married . . . to her?”
“Nyoh, that is true.”
His confession rocked her back on her heels, and she asked, “Is that why you said that I have brought you back from the dead? Because you were slipping more and more into her world?”
“Nyoh. Yes.”
“You wished to be with her.”
“I did.”
She glanced away from him, then back. “What will happen if you find this murderer and kill him? How will that affect the two of you?”
“She will be freed from her grief, and so will I. I had once thought that when that happy moment occurs, I might join her and bring about my own death through battle. But now, I think not. Life itself holds much for me. Indeed, I find that I have changed my mind about death.”
Sarah nodded, but when she remained silent, White Thunder went on to say, “You say that I saved your life, and I see how this is so. But if I am to be honest, I would admit that you have saved mine, also.”
“Truly?” she asked as she sank in against his embrace.
He tightened his arms around her. “It is true. And so I will do my duty to Wild Mint, who has been with me all these years, and to whom I gave my devotion so long ago. But when I am done with my duty, and the murderer found and justice served, I would like to have a new life, one that includes you . . . and if you will have me . . . as my woman.”
Sarah, who was nestled in against him, was silent.
After a time, he asked, “Tell me, what do you think? Have I been touched by the sun?”
“No, sir,” she said, “you have not. Indeed, if your sanity is to be in question, then so, too, is mine. However, your story does raise some questions with me, and I wonder, does Wild Mint know about you and me?”
“She does.”
“And does she hate me? Women can be jealous of each other.”
“Neh. She is happy that I have found you.”
“Happy? Are you certain?”
“She is joyous to see that I have begun to smile again. For most of these years, I have been like a dead soul, existing but not really living, except by my desire to exact revenge. But as bad as it was for me, Wild Mint was more tormented than I.”
“She was?”
He nodded. “She not only lost her life, which is most precious, but she lost her unborn child, as well as me and our marriage. This loss also came at a time when she was to be honored by he
r clan for her charm and her assistance to the clan mothers.”
“It came at the height of her success,” Sarah commented.
“Nyoh, yes. She is suffering still, and will continue to be tormented until I can find this man and kill him. Only then will she be free to move on to the next world.”
Sarah was quiet for so long that he was astonished when he heard her say, “I will help you.”
“Help me?”
“Aye. I am not without feelings for you, sir. Twice I would be missing from this world, were it not for you—and I . . . I care for you. So, yes, I will help you . . . and Wild Mint.”
“I would welcome your assistance.” He drew her in closer to him and proceeded to massage her spine, his body reacting with all the renewed strength of a young man who was easily aroused.
He closed his eyes, doing nothing more than glorying in the emotional rush. He wasn’t expecting it, but from out of nowhere came a feminine voice that said, “Nyah-weh.”
White Thunder knew well who was speaking, but Sarah pulled back to gaze up into his face. She said, “Did you say something, sir?”
“Not I,” he replied. “But if you listen closely, I think you will hear Wild Mint saying thank you to you. She is grateful to you, as I am.”
Fourteen
Two days had come and gone. But there was something unnerving in sensing that a ghostly presence might be watching your every move. Indeed, it did much to curtail one’s activities and romance.
It also caused Sarah to feel more than a little reserved toward White Thunder, and as she sat beside him, checking over his wounds and bandages, she avoided his gaze. Happily, she noted that despite the lack of stitches to his arm where the cuts were deepest, he was healing well.
“It appears that your suggestion on wrapping the wound is working,” she commented as she sat forward to tightly rewrap the bandage.
He nodded, his glance intent on her, although all he said was, “Yes. It would accomplish the same thing.”
Silence stretched between them until at last, he declared, “There is something bothering you.” It wasn’t a question.
Because Sarah was becoming accustomed to this man’s unusual perception of her moods, she didn’t take the pains to contradict him. Instead, she said, “I . . . I wonder how much longer you plan to stay here, and if, when we go, you will help me to discover the whereabouts of Miss Marisa.”