Authors: Ginger Simpson
“You aren’t going to fight unless you have to, are you?” A lump formed in her throat.
“No, our intent is only to get back what belongs to us.”
His words eased her fear, but she needed to focus on something else. “Tell me what the symbols on your horse mean?”
“The hand print on the flank signifies my kill in hand-to-hand combat. The coup mark, which is the highest honor, means I touched an enemy without killing him.”
Why had she asked? Of course there was an association with the enemy, just as with all his trophies. Her insides trembled as she thought of him taking another person’s life. She’d only seen the gentle and loving side of him. Imagining him in any other light was nearly impossible had she not seen proof in his many trophies.
“This mark is for my brother’s loss in battle,” Lone Eagle continued as he painted another symbol, “and this shows I’m the war party leader.”
The lump in her throat thickened. “Why do you have to be leader?”
“Who better than next in line to be chief?”
She wasn’t going to be able to steer the conversation away to more pleasant topics. The raid was important, and the Sioux believed these symbols and signs contributed to their successes in battle.
Lone Eagle finished decorating his horse and began adorning his body with similar symbols. He turned his gaze to Cecile. “I had a vision in the sweat lodge. I will come home unharmed.”
She longed to hold onto him, to beg him not to go, but she couldn’t shame him like that. Instead of casting her own doubts she decided to keep her thoughts to herself. “My, aren’t you and your horse a sight to behold.” Her attempt to lighten the mood did little good. Her fear of losing him crippled her. She couldn’t go to him if she tried.
Lone Eagle turned from arranging the brightly colored blanket across his mount’s back. “I have arranged for you and Two Clouds to stay with Rain Woman until I return.”
“Why? I have my own home.”
“I sense your fear. Having someone to talk to besides our son will help pass the time.”
Cecile smiled. As usual, he read her with ease. Rain Woman would occupy the hours with stories and language lessons.
The sun sunk lower, and Cecile cringed. For the first time in a long while she wished nighttime wouldn’t come.
The warriors gathered in the compound, each decorated in his own style. Cecile clung to Lone Eagle’s arm, feigning strength for the sake of appearances; inside she fought a gnawing fear. What if he didn’t return? How did the other wives stay strong?
Lone Eagle gave her a quick hug, then grabbed his horse’s mane and hoisted himself astride. He sat proudly, setting an example for his band of warriors. Cecile’s eyes glistened with tears as he lead the group of twelve away from the village and into the darkness.
Rain Woman put her arm around Cecile’s shoulders and led her away. “Do not worry, little one. He will return to you.”
Once inside, Rain Woman’s lodge, the old woman embarked on a series of cheerful tales to help pass the time. She droned on for hours, clearly never tiring of regaling past memories. Cecile tried to keep her mind on Rain Woman’s stories, but her thoughts kept drifting to scenes of fighting warriors and bloody bodies. Somewhere between the saga of Buffalo Calf Woman and her own disturbing images, Cecile fell into a fitful sleep.
***
Whoops, yells and pounding hooves woke Cecile. In the fading firelight, Rain Woman slept closest to the baby. Cecile jumped up and lightly nudged Un`ci with her foot. Two Clouds still slept soundly.
The puzzled old woman rolled over and sat. “What is it?”
Cecile edged open the door flap and peered out. “I don’t know. There are riders in the compound.”
“Be careful, my child. It may be another raiding party taking advantage of the absence of our braves.”
The swirling dust mingling with the bright orange of the dawning sun made seeing difficult, but as the dirt cloud settled and Cecile’s eyes adjusted, Lone Eagle became visible among the mounted crowd. Her heart quickened when she saw his handsome, painted face. “It’s him, it’s him! They’re back, Rain Woman!”
“That is good. Go join your husband. I will stay with Two Clouds.”
Cecile didn’t hesitate. She darted outside to join others welcoming back their loved ones, amazed at her ability to move so fast. Throwing propriety to the wind, she jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly and whispering a prayer of thanks that he’d returned unharmed.
The warriors, high on adrenaline, all talked at once. Trying to make sense from the combined excited voices, Cecile gleaned enough to know the raid had been a success. The horses were back with the herd, and a guard posted. Not a single life was lost, nor a drop of blood spilled.
Lone Eagle held up his hand and silenced the crowd. He stood tall and folded his massive arms across an expansive chest. “We met no resistance at all. Under the darkness of a cloud-shrouded sky, two braves stole into the sleeping Crow camp, cut lose the tethers holding the horses, and led them to the edge of camp where the rest of us waited. Brown Otter and Crazy Fox are the heroes.”
Brown Otter boasted of the success, but regretted he was not able to count coup. “To count coup, one must see the enemy. They were all sleeping.”
The entire group found amusement at the thought of the Crows waking to find the horses gone. Vowing to increase the watch on the Sioux village, the crowd dispersed.
Lone Eagle cast tired eyes at his wife. “Let’s get our son and go home.”
Two Clouds, very awake and very hungry, tested the patience of Rain Woman. Lone Eagle bent and embraced the old grandmother. “Thank you for taking care of my family.”
***
Lone Eagle replaced his war gear and parfleches on the lodge wall while Cecile sat down with Two Clouds. She stifled her son’s hungry crying with a milk-laden breast. As was his usual habit at bedtime, Lone Eagle stripped naked, then kneeling, he lovingly kissed the forehead of his son. “My son, eat well for you will need all of your strength to become a fine warrior like your father.”
Cecile’s look of displeasure unnoticed, Lone Eagle stretched his naked body out on the bed. She refused to imagine her son riding off in the middle of the night to possible death. Still she accepted the fact that raiding was the norm between opposing tribes, but gazed down at her son and pacified herself with the thought many years must pass before she had to worry about her child becoming a warrior.
By the time Two Clouds finished his breakfast, his father was asleep. Cecile had been so wracked with worry last night, she’d tossed and turned and slept little. How she wished to snuggle up to his strong, masculine body and nap along with him. As she cleaned and dressed her son, she decided to ask Bright Star to look after Two Clouds. Times alone with Lone Eagle were rare these days.
***
Making sure she closed the privacy flap behind her, Cecile released the drawstring of her dress and let it fall to the ground. Standing naked, she gazed lovingly at her sleeping husband. He was so handsome, even with remnants of war paint still on his face. Gently, she lowered herself onto the bed and inched back against him.
Even in sleep, Lone Eagle sensed her presence and pressed his body forward. Without a word, he reached over her shoulder and fondled her breast.
His caresses always excited her, and she purred with pleasure. The hardness of his organ pressed against her and, she marveled at how a man’s penis expanded to its full length in such a short time. Even more astounding—how much pleasure she got from making love. She’d learned many new and sensual things from Lone Eagle—had even grown comfortable with her own nudity.
Lone Eagle lifted Cecile’s hair and rained light kisses along her neck. Cold chills coursed through her. She inched closer, enjoying his hardness against her, but then slid away and chuckled.
“So you want to play, do you?” He snaked her back, slipping his tongue into her ear, gently plunging in and out, while blowing out warm breath.
Her desire built; she couldn’t wait any longer. Turning to face him, she covered his lips with an imploring kiss.
Rolling onto his back, Lone Eagle pulled her astride, impaling her upon his hardened member. He filled her completely, and his upward thrusts compelled her to begin a rocking rhythm that put them in sync with one another, searching for that ultimate release. Driven by pleasure, Cecile lolled her head from side to side, her hair swaying back and forth across breasts taut with milk.
Lone Eagle’s hand caressed the length of her legs from hip to knee, urging her to keep pace while keeping her positioned tightly against him. His breathing quickened, as did his movement. Her body matched his frantic rhythm until she reached the pinnacle of ecstasy that she sought. Sated and breathless, she rolled off his sweat-glistening body.
Lone Eagle stretched his arms over his head and released a relaxing sigh. “That took away my breath. It’s been a long time since we made love during the day.”
One of his braids had come lose, and what remained of his war paint had smeared into his eyebrows. She covered her mouth and giggled. “Do I look as funny as you do?”
“I know not what makes you laugh, but you are as beautiful as ever.”
Even in his disheveled state, he still warmed her heart. She rolled toward him and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I love you, my husband. Welcome home.”
Chapter Thirty-two
The days grew longer and warmer. Cecile pounded clothing on river rocks, pondering all the chores necessary to survival: hunting, sewing, gathering berries to use in the preservation of food, and fishing from the bountiful waters bordering the village. At least, having the river nearby eased the task of toting laundry and hauling water. The stream near the winter camp had been fairly close, but still far enough away to make getting there difficult. There were things she liked about her prairie home.
The men gathered nearby to discuss the upcoming Summer Sun Dance and she strained to hear what they said. Soon other tribes would gather to join the festivities, and she worried about their reaction to having a white woman among them. Worrying about skin differences hadn’t been a problem since her joining with Lone Eagle made her family. She glanced down at her doeskin dress and moccasins, and reached up to touch a long auburn braid. Truly, she’d become more Indian than white.
Just downstream, Bright Star kept an eye on Two Clouds. He crawled around on the soft carpet of grass, giggling in amusement at his newfound freedom. “You have to watch him closely,” she called out to the girl. “Now that he’s almost six months old, he wants to explore, touch and chew things.”
Cecile flashed back to her earlier lovemaking experience. Beads of sweat dripped from her brow, and she wasn’t sure if the cause was the sun beating down on her back or the pleasant memories of the fiery passion. Perhaps her wanton thoughts were at fault.
With the laundry basked propped on her hip and headed back to her tepee, Cecile hummed a happy tune. Raised voices attracted her attention to people congregated in the middle of the compound, huddling around something or someone. After setting her clean clothes inside, she walked toward the gathering with a raised brow. Wishing she was taller, Cecile stood on tiptoes, trying to see what caused the excitement.
Maneuvering her way through the mass of bodies, she got close enough to see a white man, obviously a trader, kneeling next to a blanket displaying an array of kitchenware and utensils. Her heart raced at looking upon another white person after such a long time. Although content living with the Sioux, she hungered for news from the outside world.
The villagers clamored around him, frantically waving what they hoped to trade for something from his collection. Pushed one way and then the other, Cecile was caught in a sea of excited Sioux. She wasn’t interested in trading anything; she just wanted to talk to him for a moment.
She surveyed him closely before approaching. His beard badly needed trimming and the sweat-stained hat on his head gave him a scraggly appearance. Perspiration stained his dusty shirt, and an obnoxious odor permeated the air around him. Cecile forced herself to breathe through her mouth. While she tried to decide if she really wanted to engage him in conversation, the bartering continued. After successful trades were made, the crowd thinned when villagers hurried away with their new treasures in hand.
The stranger noticed her.
“Well, I’ll be. You may be dressed like an Injun, but that auburn hair and green eyes are a dead giveaway.” He jumped to his feet and doffed his filthy hat. His eyes raked over her body.
She fidgeted beneath his unnerving leer, but her breath seized at what she saw. Her head spun with dizziness. She needed to run—to get away from this man and the horrible panic that engulfed her.
Before she could flee, her head started to spin and everything faded to black as she sagged to the ground.
***
Lone Eagle worked outside, sharpening the blade on his hunting knife when he heard voices urgently calling his name. He came running to find his wife unconscious on the ground. Shaken by the sight, he knelt beside her. “Green Eyes, please wake up.”