Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (49 page)

“I’ll not believe that for a moment. You didn’t like me then.”

“You talk too much,” he said and took the smile off her lips with a kiss.

As soon as he released her, she said, “Willa was dumbfounded when Colby stopped at the preacher’s house. When he makes up his mind, it’s made up.”

“He gets that from his father. Stop talking about them. Talk about me.”

“Farr Quill, you’re a spoiled, rotten little boy!”

“Uh huh.” He shifted his body as if to leave her. She tightened her arms and legs. He chuckled and kissed her lips softly, almost gaily, while his glorious strength filled her.

“Farr, darling, what would we have done if the major hadn’t come back? Oh, it scares me to think about it.”

“I was going to escape,” he said simply and continued his kissing.

“I’m glad you didn’t try that! Hammond would have had an excuse to shoot you then.”

“I’d have picked my time. Mmmm . . . you feel so good.” His hand stroked her hips. “I like your strong body. You’re soft only in the right places—like here, and here.” His hand moved up over her belly to her breasts, his lips traveled and teased. “I had a few spies, and I knew which ones were Perry’s. I thought I’d give him enough rope to hang himself, and we’d be rid of him.”

“Stop talking about him. Talk about me.”

He drew back his head. Moonlight coming through the clear glass window lighted the room. She could see the grin on his face. Then he kissed her, a kiss like the ones he’d given her before, only somehow different. His mouth was tender on hers, almost reverent, giving, yet taking.

“Don’t get used to all this luxury, Mrs. Quill. Tomorrow I’m taking you home, and taking some of the sass out of you.”

“That’s tomorrow. What are you going to do about tonight?”

“I’m going to love you until you’re so tired you’ll have trouble staying in the saddle tomorrow.”

“I doubt that, but try anyway. I’m ready to go home. I miss Amy, Daniel and Mercy and Juicy and Rain. Oh, I hope Rain’s all right.” She placed kisses all along the side of his jaw. “Farrway . . . I miss my house.”

“Oh, Libby, my Libby, I missed
you,
I missed this,” Farr whispered. “The hardest part was not being with you. I thought about you every day and every night as I lay on the straw bed. It’s been a week since I held you like this. Did you miss me, Libby? Tell me.”

He turned her over and pressed her slim body into the soft mattress, driving deep, while she held her breath at the wonder of it.

“Oh, yes, yes, I missed you.”

He lay on her, a dead weight, an infinitely dear weight, one she held tightly to her. Her hand moved through his hair, down his neck, and over his back in soft caresses. She studied his face staring down at her, aglow with love and desire, felt his hands possessing her, and his brawny torso between her knees. Happiness surged through her being.

“You’re my love, my life,” he whispered. “I’m going to hold you in my arms every night for the rest of our lives.”

Her eyes, her mind and her body were filled with him. There was nothing hurried or demanding about the way they loved each other. Their passion swelled, rocked them, enveloped them in a swirling, translucent world where nothing existed but the two of them. He made love to her until she was sweetly exhausted.

“Sleep. Tomorrow I’m taking my White Dove home,” he whispered and cradled her in his arms.

“No,
Wahbah-comeshi,
” she murmured sleepily. “You’re taking Mrs. Oak Tree home.”

Quill’s Station, the Sufferite community, and all the people in this story are characters from my imagination, except for the following who were in the area at the time of the story and may have acted as I have portrayed them.

Tecumseh, Chief of the Shawnee

Tenskwatawa, (the Prophet) Tecumseh’s brother

Tecumapese, their sister

Chiksika, Tecumapese’s son

Sugar Tree, Shawnee maiden

Governor William Harrison, who later became the ninth president of the United States

Anna Harrison, his wife

Zachary Taylor, known to his soldiers as “Old Rough and Ready,” who later became the twelfth president of the United States

Captain Nathan Heald, Commander of Fort Dearborn

After the bitter defeat at Tippecanoe, Tecumseh was unable to unite the tribes and push for the right to their land. He went over to the British during the War of 1812 and was killed during a battle with Governor Harrison’s army, August 5, 1813.

Among the Shawnee there are many traditions, but none so sacred as the one which was born the night Tecumseh died.

Tecumseh will come again! In that hour of the second coming, there will be nakude-fanwi undawa, “one town of towns.” It will mark the end of strife, wars and contentions among all Indian tribes. Then the celebration will consummate all the Great Spirit intends for His red children. It will
begin in the spring and continue without ceasing, from tribe to tribe, until the season closes.

The sign of this second coming will be a star appearing and passing across the sky, as it did at the time of Tecumseh’s birth, and Tecumseh will again be born under the same circumstances, to lead his people to this “one town of towns” for all Indians.

Tecumseh will come again!

Dorothy Garlock