Read People of the Earth Online
Authors: W. Michael Gear
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Native American & Aboriginal
"It's my fault. I know that White Ash is
still in your thoughts."
She glanced out over the sage-filled flats
toward the Cold-water River. "Funny, isn't it? I never thought I'd love
again. I never thought I'd find a man with the gentle warmth my husband had.
Now I don't know what to think. You've become my best friend, Wind Runner. I
wouldn't want anything to happen that would leave you uncomfortable."
Longing and confusion gnashed in his soul.
"I don't know what to say."
"I understand."
He looked at her. A soft smile curled her
lips.
“Wind Runner, I would be your woman. I think
you know that. I thought about it for a long time. I weighed the desire I had
for you against what I knew I needed in a man. The body can trick the soul. I
waited to make sure. I don't want you to let your body lead you into something
that would change this trust we share."
He fumbled aimlessly with the fringe on her
sleeve. A cloud passed in front of the stars, moving like a dark shadow through
the sage. “I fight my desire for you. Every day I struggle with it."
'The decision is yours. I can live with you
either way, Wind Runner."
He swallowed. "And White Ash?"
“White Ash." A wistful smile. “If you
find her, I'll step aside. I understand and accept what she means to you."
“How? I mean ..."
She stroked the back of his neck, soothing
him. “Because I love you. Outside of the safety of my people, I would give
anything to see you happy. If that means White Ash sharing your lodge, I will
smile and help her move her things in. And afterward I'll wish you both
well."
"But to do so would break your heart,
wouldn't it?"
"I've survived worse in the past. I
imagine I'll even be able to face you—and her—every day."
How many times had he and
Aspen
laughed and planned together? How many
times had she sat and listened to him pour out his deepest worries? They'd
become a team. His heart raced at the feel of her by his side.
He closed his eyes, trying to think despite
the blood that pounded in his veins. Even Sage Ghost has given up. He trembled
as he reached up and grasped the hand that stroked his neck and brought it back
to his lap. "I've never had a friend like you,
Aspen
. Every minute I'm away from you, I think about
you."
She tipped her face up to him and smiled.
Hesitantly he bent and kissed her. She slid her arms around his waist and
clutched him tightly.
He nodded, letting his hand glide over the
curve of her throat and down to her breasts.
Aspen
slipped her leather dress over her head and
placed it on the rocks, then stood before him, silhouetted against the
starlight. The wealth of her black hair shifted with the wind. He rose to his
feet and pulled his shirt over his head. Her nimble fingers undid the laces
that held his leggings.
Picking up her dress, she took Wind Runner's
hand and led him away from the rocks and down to the cool desert sands. She
spread her dress in an open area between the fragrant sage.
"You're certain?" he asked in a
husky voice.
"More than I have ever been," she
whispered and pulled him close. He reveled in the feel of her body against his.
For a long moment they held each other before
she sighed and gracefully pulled him down onto the dress with her.
White Ash . . . I tried to find you.
White Ash reached into her deer-paunch bag
that held water. She cupped the cool liquid in her hand and let it trickle onto
the hot rocks. Steam hissed in the blackness, rising to fill the sweat lodge
they'd made.
Still Water gasped and panted where he sat
across from her.
When Wolf Dreamer sought to cleanse himself,
he made steam. This he gave to the people to cleanse both the body and soul
Cleanse yourself
The Dream had been so explicit. Among the Sun
People, no one built a sweat lodge. Among the Earth People, only the Healers
and those grieving or seeking to talk with the Spirits sweated. White Ash sat
in the stifling blackness and let the steam bathe her. Her skin prickled as
water traced down the slippery curves of her body.
She closed her eyes against the discomfort,
chanting softly, echoing Singing Stones' words on the night Power had filled
him.
"Find the place inside you that
listens," Singing Stones had taught her. Again and again she tried to keep
her mind blank.
It has to be here somewhere. Then: Silence,
you fool! She battled to find a way to escape the noise in her head.
Her lungs labored for a cool breath of air.
Grimly, White Ash willed herself to ignore the frantic cries of her body to
leave this stifling heat.
The Wolf Bundle lurked at the edge of her
soul, its tendrils hovering about her.
We can help you. The countless voices of the
Wolf Bundle drifted around her. Release yourself to us. Let us show you.
A gray
muzziness
left her spinning. She fell, dropping into it. Around the edges, a glistening
golden mist swirled, beckoning.
You are following the right path , Mother of
the People. Are you strong enough? Are you tenacious enough to continue?
The voices faded. Then she became aware of
coolness descending over her.
"White Ash?" Still Water's voice
echoed from a great distance.
Consciousness returned slowly. She blinked and
found herself in Still Water's arms. His good arm supported her weight, while
his bad arm held her braced against his chest. High above, stars dusted the sky
except to the south, where they were hidden by a shadowy bank of clouds. He had
taken her out of the sweat lodge.
"What?" She winced against a
terrible ache that pounded in her head.
"You fell over," he told her.
"I think the heat got you. Too much, too quick."
She groaned and struggled to sit up. The cool
night air left her shivering. Still Water wrapped a robe around her shoulders,
his hand steadying her against the dizziness that possessed her.
"The Dream was right," she
announced. "I almost did it again. I heard the Bundle's voice. Felt the
gray haze. The One was there, just out of reach."
He shook his head. "I'm worried about
you."
A pleasant satisfaction filled her, as if she'd
been cleansed for the first time since Three Bulls had raped and beaten her so
long ago.
"It's the right path," she said.
"The right path."
"All right," Still Water agreed
uncertainly. "Maybe tomorrow we'll try again."
"No. Tonight. I just need to get my wind
back."
He squatted before her and she could see
concern in the depths of his brown eyes.
"You're pushing too hard," he told
her gently. "This morning you were sick to your stomach. That's four days
in a row. You don't work into things—just dive headlong. Can't we take this a
little at a time?"
She took his cool hand and pressed it against
her sweat-drenched cheek. "I have to be ready when Power calls. I have to
be strong enough. It's our only chance."
He hesitated. "You scare me sometimes. If
you kill yourself, then what?"
"Then I wasn't strong enough, and it's
better this way than dying on a Broken Stones war dart—or worse." She
glanced up at him. "Who scares you most? Me—or Brave Man?"
He frowned. "Let's sweat tomorrow, first
thing. I'll feed you another big breakfast and we'll—"
"Tonight."
"Tonight ..." He tilted his head
reluctantly. "All right. Let me build up the fire and heat the rocks
again. But this time I'm going to stay close. When you toppled over in there, you
hit the ground hard. If it wasn't for those hides we put down, you'd have
cracked your head open."
She lay back, letting the cool night winds
play over her hot skin. Singing Stones took years to learn the way to the One.
Before that, he'd used Power as a Healer among the clans. How can I do what I
must in so short a time?