Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth) (26 page)

BOOK: Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk (Dark Cloth)
2.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

His second aim was true, and the huge bull dropped.

Hawk moved off toward another.

Thirty minutes later, the hunt was over. They finished off the wounded buffalo and claimed their unbroken arrows.

The women moved in with their cutting tools. Each woman claimed the meat she wanted, and the hides from the animals brought down by her man. But then, they shared the rest of the meat with the poor—especially the women with no men to hunt for them.

There would be a great celebration for the success of the hunt.

 

They were relaxed and well-fed. Mandy could have stayed this way forever. But the wonderful feeling, the full bellies, the laughter and the celebrations—could never last.

“I am going with some of the warriors for a few days,” Hawk told her, almost as though he knew her thoughts.

Mandy looked up sharply. “You’re going after the Crow.” It wasn’t a question, and panic thrummed through her. They’d just had a successful hunt, and she knew the proud Lakota would not let their hated enemy get away with what they had done.

“Jake was right. You’re very quick. Yes, we go after the Crow.”

She hugged him to her, afraid to let go. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“A week—maybe more, maybe less. I know we should return, Mandy, but I have to do this.” His gold-green eyes pleaded with her for understanding. “Jake will run our ranch like his own. I know he’d understand.”

“I know, Hawk.” She hugged him. “Hurry back.”

There were tears in her eyes when he left her early the next morning. When he was gone, she went back into the tipi, and lying down, she cried herself back to sleep.

 

Mandy and Two Stars sat and sliced the buffalo meat thin, and then set it on racks to dry. When it was done, they made
Wasna
, pemmican, which would keep forever. A wintering band could survive weeks on
Wasna
and dried buffalo meat or jerky. But it wasn’t as good as fresh meat, and hunters often went looking for fresh meat.

They laughed and told stories as they worked, teasing one another whenever a young brave came by to smile or court one of the girls.

The next few days were spent on the buffalo hides. Mandy and her friends were about to spend as much as ten days preparing a hide. The hides were scraped clean. They immersed them into a solution made from ashes and water to loosen the hair so it could easily be pulled.

Two Stars prepared a tanning mixture of buffalo brains and other things. She wanted one of the hides to be white, so the bones were pulverized and the oil extracted and added, which they worked into the skin for hours.

They folded the hides and left them overnight so the mixture would penetrate. The next morning they stretched them back out and worked them over with elk horn, then smoked them to make them pliant.

Mandy set aside hair to stuff a pillow for each of them. One of the things Mandy liked about the people was they didn’t take anything for granted.

They made use of all they could and didn’t waste things, like the white eyes.

The horns were carved into cups, or boiled and shaped into spoons or ladles or used for glue. It took a dozen or so hides to make a tipi, but once done it belonged to the woman. If she divorced, she took her tipi with her. White women always lost everything to their husbands, and never stood a chance of keeping their homes.

Mandy walked through the village. A bed of grass carpeted the ground, the scent of pine and cooking fires filled the air. Warm sunshine and the laughter of children surrounded her. She sighed peacefully. She could stay here forever.

Here, away from the ever-present danger of Ashley McCandle.

But peace was only an illusion among the people. The long-knives, or as they also called them, white eyes, made peace impossible. From what she had heard, broken treaties were like broken glass—impossible to mend, and razor sharp. Her sigh was tinged with sharp regret now. It would be a sad day, indeed, to watch these proud people forced to knuckle under to the white man’s laws.

And for what?

Why did they have to live the white eyes’ way? Why did the treaties have to be broken? These people would have lived in peace if promises had been kept.

She had reached the edge of the camp and reached to pluck a wild flower. Twirling it between her thumb and forefinger, she held it under her nose to smell.

Hawk came up behind her and pulled her into his embrace. She knew it was him, instantly, with her awareness—a powerful woman’s intuition. She fought not to lean into him, and lost. He was home, and he was unharmed. It was just too easy to feel safe in his arms. They were a safe haven from all that was wrong in the world.

“Are you okay?” His voice was husky.

She nodded, and for some unexplainable reason, broke into tears.

Hawk held her close.
“Ceye Sni yo
—don’t cry.”

When she had sobbed her heart out, he dug out a bandanna and dried her tears. She tried for a lighthearted joke. “A hundred uses for a bandanna.”

“Do you carry my son?”

She went still as death. All the color left her skin.

“I see the possibility hadn’t occurred to you.”

She shook her head, too shocked to speak.

“When was the last time you bled?” he persisted.

She swallowed hard, trying to think. But it was nearly impossible to think through the haze that had dropped over her head.

“Two weeks before we married,” she finally got out

That makes you about two weeks late.” He looked down at her, an unnamed emotion shining in his eyes. “We have to return home. This Indian summer won’t last, then it will be impossible to return through the deep snows.”

She nodded mutely.

He rested his forehead against hers, relieved as hell she wasn’t fighting him. She was letting him take her home. That was a great start in his book. He could deal with anything as long as he knew he stood a chance of righting things. He’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her, as long as she gave him the chance. He rained kisses all over her face and down her neck.

Later, when Hawk was called away to play some games with the warriors, Mandy sat and watched the children play, remembering when she and her friends had played these same games when she was young.

The little girls put up tipis, and the young boys brought them small game, pretending to be great warriors. Mandy smiled at their antics and laughed out loud when she spotted two boys snatch some meat off the drying racks and run.

She sat, trying to picture having Hawk’s son. What would he be like? Would he have Hawk’s golden-green eyes? Would they sparkle with mischief like these boys’? She placed her hand over her lower abdomen. Was it possible that, even now, she carried his son under her heart? In the heat of the sun, she lay back and went to sleep on the grass.

In her dreams, she ran like the wind. She had done it now. He would paddle her for sure. She’d been teasing him all morning, making him want her, then eluding him. She had no more guards to put against him. It didn’t matter whose blood ran in his veins. She loved him with all her being.

And when she woke, she knew—she would run from her husband—no more.

 

She was laughing, running though the creek near where they bathed, when he caught her. She went down and came up sputtering. “Damn you, Hawk.” She looked down at her beaded dress. “You’ve ruined it.”

He picked her up and hauled her to shore. Setting her down, he pulled the dress off over her head.

She shivered, not from the cold but from the heat in his eyes and the answering tempo in her body.

“I can see it in your eyes,” his husky voice settled over her like his fingers on her skin. “Now, say it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve waited for you to decide,” he growled. “Only your stubborn pride is stopping you from saying the words.”

She lifted her chin, and he pushed his hand though his hair in frustration. When he looked at her again, his eyes were warm. He cupped her face. “I need you, now. I know you want to be with me, Mandy. You set me on fire. You’re making me crazy.”

She looked up with tears in her eyes. She lowered them, but he hooked his finger under her chin and brought her eyes back to meet his. “Say it, Mandy. Say, you don’t want to leave me. Say you want to be with me.”

Her breath shuddered within her when she looked into his eyes. The emotion she saw there completely undid her, and she did him one better. “I love you.”

Hawk went completely still. Every beat in his heart had waited for this moment. Every dream a man could dream, but was too afraid to hope, lay suspended on a silvery thread in that very moment. “Say that again. I need to be sure I heard you right.”

Mandy smiled at him, her heart in her eyes. “I love you, Hawk. I love you with my whole heart, and my whole being. I love you with everything there is, and everything there ever will be inside me.”

He crushed her to him. “And I love you,” he whispered in her hair. He laid her in the grass. He kissed her, ravaging her mouth with a fierce love, born from the fear he’d felt when he’d thought her lost to him. She matched him, kiss for kiss, raking her fingers over his naked, muscular back.
“Skuye
—sweet.” He possessively laid claim to her breast.
“Wiwasteka
—beautiful Woman.” He teased her until she whimpered and begged for more. Only then, did he move between her legs and enter her in one hard thrust.

With each rock of his body, he brought her with him, took her to a place only lovers go. And when she climaxed violently, he was with her. Then, he lowered his head to hers, and with warm tears in his golden eyes, he said those words again. “I love you, my woman
. Mitawin . . . . wastelakapi—
forever beloved.”

She turned on her side, watching him. Taking a piece of grass, she tickled his nose until he playfully swatted at her. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, softly, when he had successfully pinned her down.

Hawk smiled wryly, and flopped back over onto his back. “A lot of things,” he answered with a sigh. “This is the first time in seven years that I’ve slowed down long enough to do much thinking. Truth be told, I think I ran away from having to do any thinking.”

She gave him a soft smile. “That’s understandable. Many people run from pain.”

They lay there in the grass, enjoying the warm autumn day, listening to the babble of the brook and smelling the warmth of the sunshine on the grass, with the lingering scent of autumn flowers.

“Tell me how you were captured?” she asked after a moment.

His expression turned stony, and she instantly regretted the question. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”

Hawk watched her for several long moments. “My mom died when I was six. One day she was there—and the next . . . . She died giving birth to my sister.

“My father wouldn’t even look at her—I guess he blamed her. Then, one day, several months later, he took me and headed west.” He stared at her, but didn’t see her. He was deep in the past. He absently rubbed a lock of her hair between his thumb and fingers. “He was never the same,” he nearly whispered. He cleared his throat. “One day, weeks into the long wagon ride west, he told me to go to the river, and no matter what, not to come back until he came for me.”

“When I heard the gunshots, I disobeyed him and came back. I hid in the nearby bushes, frozen with fear.” Hawk paused, lost deep in thought, seeing it all again as though it were yesterday. “They were white men.” His voice went hoarse. “They killed every man, woman—and child. And then I got the biggest shock of all—my father was one of them.” His tone held so much hate that Mandy wanted to cry. “He helped them kill our friends.”

Mandy gasped, her hand flying to her throat. He must have thought her mad when she’d accused him of getting the ranch for such a man.

“Anyway, when it was over, the burning wagons drew a hunting party, and a Cheyenne warrior from the party adopted me as his son. They raised me as one of their own. I knew much love and happiness there.” He laughed, remembering.

Mandy was speechless, imagining it all. “Why did he do it?” she whispered. “Why would he do such a thing?

He looked at her, his eyes flinty. “For the money.” Mandy shook her head, unable to imagine such butchery—and for so little gain. Fighting for survival was one thing. It was what the Lakota fought for, and while she didn’t always agree with their methods, she did understand them. But this . . . .

“I told you the Crow killed my Cheyenne father,” his voice pulled her back. “White man’s disease killed my Lakota family, and almost half my tribe, as the doc told you if I recall right.”

Yes,” she said softly. “I remember. That’s when you met Doc, after you were beaten for being an Indian.”

Hawk nodded. “And you know the rest.”

“Your father said he was sorry he rejected you. What did he mean by that?”

Hawk scowled. “I found him after my Lakota family died, right before the doc found me.” He flipped over on his stomach. “He wasn’t too pleased with the changes in his son.”

Tears welled in Mandy’s eyes. She reached out and touched his shoulder, and he rolled over onto his side and kissed her. “You’re all that’s right in the world,” he whispered in her hair. And he made slow, passionate love to her again.

 

Mandy was flabbergasted when Hawk, and several of his friends, came over that evening, leading nearly a hundred horses loaded down with blankets, guns, bows, arrows, and other such items. They staked these horses outside the tipi.

So many horses were unheard of. What was he doing? She was already his wife.

Ten Bears didn’t even look up for several long moments. Finally, when Mandy knew her heart would leave her chest, Hawk’s emissary entered the tent and, when invited to, sat down, and they smoked and made small talk.

Two Stars took Mandy’s hand and led her away.

“What are they doing? I’m already Hawk’s wife!” Mandy exclaimed.

Two Stars shrugged. “Your man wants to do this thing the Lakota way. It is good he wants this.” She giggled. “Father is enjoying this.”

“Too much,” Mandy growled, in perfect imitation of Hawk.

She watched Hawk’s emissary leave, then her eyes widened to see all the male members of her adopted family enter the tent. “They’re taking this way too seriously,” she muttered under her breath.

Two Stars took Mandy’s hands in hers. “Father will not refuse him. Your man is a great warrior. He will welcome him into the family.”

But Mandy didn’t relax until they had distributed the horses amongst the relatives—a signal they had accepted the match.

Two Stars painted Mandy and braided her hair. Then, she brought out a beautiful white buckskin dress.

“It’s beautiful,” Mandy breathed.

Two Stars giggled and lowered her eyes. “We worked on it all night—to surprise you.”

Mandy’s eyes were shining.
“Pilamaya
—thank you.”

When they had her all dressed, Two Stars stood back. “You are
wiwasteka—
a beautiful woman.”

They heard the laughter then, and the many people approaching the tent, long before they arrived. The closer they got, the harder Mandy’s heart drummed in her chest. She had married Hawk in the way of the white eyes. Now, she would marry him in the way of the Lakota. Somehow, this time took on much more meaning. Maybe it was because, this time, she knew Hawk wanted this—as much as she wanted him.

When he came for her, she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing normally. When she knew that he was outside the tipi, she thought she would strangle from her thundering heart.

He rapped on the tipi door, and she called,
“Tima hiuwo—
come in.” He threw back the door and entered the tipi and just stood there for a moment, all the love he felt for her shining in his golden eyes.

Finally, he strolled forward and took her hand. “I love you, my woman. My wife.”

She breathed deep—and trembled. “I love you, my husband.”

He led her outside to a beautiful mare. Mandy’s eyes flew wide when he set her on the mare’s back.

“For me?” Mandy whispered.

Hawk nodded. “You may name her whatever you wish.”

An old woman, named Twin Flowers, led the mare to the tipi of the family who had taken in Hawk.

One of Ten Bears’ wives followed, leading several of the gift horses.

Several of Mandy’s male Lakota relatives carried her in and set her on the blankets. There, several of the females redressed her in the new buckskin dress they’d specially made for her. Then, they re-braided her hair and reapplied her paint. When they were finished, she stood beside Hawk as Ten Bears said a few words.

Hawk turned to her when he was finished. “I promise to love you, provide for and protect you, all the days that I live.”

With tears in her eyes, Mandy squeezed the hand holding hers. “I promise to love you. I will cook for you and keep your home. I will bear your children and keep you warm at night.”

Hawk chuckled and hugged her. “You better,” he whispered in her ear.

“But I won’t promise to obey,” she whispered back.

“You already did—in the way of the white eyes.” She scowled at him.

All the women sent up a cry into the wind. The warriors all whooped as Hawk led her to the tipi. And long into the night, the Lakota celebrated their union.

Other books

ShiftingHeat by Lynne Connolly
Wanderlove by Kirsten Hubbard
A Country Doctor's Notebook by Mikhail Bulgakov
Pardonable Lie by Jacqueline Winspear