Proud Wolf's Woman (20 page)

The camp looked the same as when he’d left it only a day earlier except that no dogs barked, nor did any birds sing. Perhaps he should have taken note of the lack of activity ahead of him, but he didn’t. He’d had too good a hunt to worry about things he didn’t know, couldn’t perceive. Besides, his spirit soared at his good luck on this and the previous day, and he was anxious to share the stories of his encounters as well as the meat of his hunt with the others.

It wasn’t until he was well within the camp that the smell of death assailed him, horrible and exacting in its message. It hit him hard. His spirits, which had been sweeping the heavens, plummeted. He knew at once what had happened.

“Hova’ahane! No!”

He dropped his game, running to the camp tepee he and his wife shared. Perhaps she had been taken captive, perhaps she still lived. He could rescue her.

He threw back the rawhide at the entrance to their lodge and, looking inside, he screamed. “Hovaahane! Hovaahane!”

She lay on the ground, there inside, her head scalped, her stomach torn open, their unborn babe cut apart from her.

Neeheeowee screamed. He cried. He wailed, the sounds horrible upon the afternoon breeze. But his grief did not bring his wife or his child back, did not bring the others back. Nothing did.

He knew then, as he picked up the remains of their bodies, what he would do. He knew then the reason for his lack of a vision. His life became suddenly filled with purpose, and a truth took hold within him: The hunter’s life had not been a true path for him. It had been a mistake. No wonder Neeheeowee had felt there was something more for him. No wonder he had lacked purpose, almost ached with it.

But no more. He knew with certainty where his future now lay. And for the first time since he had started his string of vision quests, he knew why he had become the best tracker, the best hunter within the Cheyenne nation. He would use those skills to accomplish his true purpose in life: to kill the Pawnee murderers.

He fell to his knees, right there in that small hunting lodge, his tears falling onto the dead bodies of his wife and child.

“Ehani nah-hiwatama.

Napave vihnivo.”

He sang the song over and over.

“Ehani nah-hiwatama.

Napave vihnivo.

My Father,

He hath shown His mercy unto me.

In peace let them walk the straight road.”

And there, bent down, in that lodge, it hit him, a sudden “knowledge,” the awareness that he had caused these deaths; indirectly, but caused them nonetheless. He had been following the wrong path. If he had been on the right course, none of this would have happened. For all knew the grandfathers’ teachings: Following the wrong trail in life will bring a man nothing but disaster.

Neeheeowee wailed to the skies above, moaning his sorrow, his grief. But nothing brought his loved ones back. Nothing. And there, on the floor of that tepee, before Maheoo, before the ghosts of his wife and child, before all, he vowed complete devotion to their spirits, promising that this man to whom his wife and child had looked for protection, this man known to others as Neeheeoeewotis, this man would not rest, would not marry, would not even live again until the Pawnee murderers breathed no more.

Lightning streaked across the western sky, bringing Neeheeowee back to the present, reminding him that he had better keep his mind on finding some sort of shelter before the storm caught them unprepared. He paused, looking around him, finally seeing off in the distance a spot which was not too high, not too low. It was not the best he could do, but it would afford them at least a meager amount of safety.

He headed toward it now.

It was odd to think of it now. In all these years, nothing had tempted him away from his purpose; nothing, not family, not duty, nor even the seeking of honor in battle. Nothing, that is, until Julia.

Julia.

He wondered again why he had asked her to come with him without being more prepared to accommodate her. Had it been momentary aberration on his part? A sudden drop into insanity, thinking he could make her happy despite the type of life he led?

No, he decided, closing his eyes and sighing. It had been none of these things. He could not part with her. It was that simple a truth.

And though he knew he did her a great injustice since he could offer her none of those things a woman seemed to desire most, he could think of nothing else to do but to find a way to make it up to her. For of one thing he was certain: Julia had insinuated herself into his life, into his affections, and he would do all he could to keep her with him.

No longer did he have the terrible nightmares that had plagued him for so long. No longer did his face show a constant frown. No, he would not let her go, not unless she decided she could not stand the life he offered her. And even then…

It left him in an interesting dilemma.

He longed to protect Julia, to save her from any possible harm, yet he remained the one person most likely to bring her the greatest hurt of all: the inability to make her wife, in fact.

He would have to tell her. She had the right to know it all. But oh, how he shied away from the telling of it. She would not understand. And why should she? She was white, unused to his ways, his beliefs. How could he expect her to understand what even his own people found hard to comprehend?

He breathed out loud. There was nothing for it. He would have to tell Julia. He would also have to suffer the consequences of her demands on him to take her back to the fort, her possible hatred. For of one thing he became suddenly certain: he would not take her back. Somehow, some way, now that she was with him, he would keep her with him.

There, it was decided. Neeheeowee brought his head up and gazed overhead to where the sky remained blue, despite the ominous appearance of the blackened clouds to the west. He would speak with Julia, and soon.

But not now. For now, he would enjoy her, the love they shared a little while longer, still knowing that on the morrow, all could change.

Oddly enough, Neeheeowee’s emotions settled back down after his decision to talk with Julia, and he continued to lead her out over the prairie. He looked to the west where the sun set farther and farther down, the orb finally taking refuge behind the darkened clouds. And though he tried not to think of it, he couldn’t help wondering: Would Julia stay with him willingly when she knew the truth? Would she put behind her all those things a woman seemed to need most: a home, a husband, family? It seemed doubtful that she would, but Neeheeowee knew he wouldn’t back away from telling her the truth. And he would face her decision as he had faced many others in his life, with stoic reserve, his hurt only acknowledged to himself in the darkness of night.

“Neeheeowee,” she spoke to him, touching his shoulder and, pointing off toward the west, where the sun peaked out from behind the storm clouds, she said, “look there.”

He nodded in answer to her and gazed behind him. But when he said, “yes,” to her question, he wasn’t at all surprised to find that he spoke not about the sky at sunset, but rather about
her.

Ah, his Julia. When he looked at her, his troubles fled.

And if all else paled before his feelings for Julia, if Neeheeowee were temporarily blind to the complete and full extent of the emotion within his heart, he was saved from the realization of it…at least for the moment.

Beauty filled the prairie, which even the dark clouds in the west could not hide. Flowers bloomed within the tall, tall grasses, the pinks and blues of the flowering pea vines as pretty as if purposely planted there, while a type of purple wildflower Julia had no way of identifying grew abundantly. Winds had come up from the west, bringing with it the cooler scents of rain-drenched prairie. Birds soared through the sky as though hurrying home to their loved ones, and elk scattered, sensing the storm.

She and Neeheeowee trudged within the buffalo paths, which generally ran north and south, no more than eight inches wide, though Neeheeowee turned to the west more often than not. And though Julia wondered where he took her, what their plans were from here, she did not ask. In truth, it was only a minor thought, most of her attention centered on Neeheeowee.

He looks so handsome when he smiles.

Julia grinned at her thoughts.

He was handsome no matter what he did, but so very much so when he smiled, which was rarely.

Julia stared, dreamy-eyed, at the man before her. Stripped to only breechcloth, leggings, and moccasins, she caught brief glimpses of his tanned buttocks as he moved before her. And oh, how she longed to reach out and touch him there, how she desired to capture that buckskin cloth and pull it away, exposing all of him to her view.

Julia sighed, more than a little scandalized at her thoughts. But what was she to do? Neeheeowee possessed more potent sexuality than she had ever imagined a man could have, and she could barely believe she hadn’t been aware of it seven and one-half years ago. Or perhaps she had noticed it then, unwilling to acknowledge it.

The sun dipped at that moment, falling behind the storm clouds gathering off to the west, the result of which threw the prairie into a darkness that rivaled the very skies at night. Julia shivered and reached out to touch Neeheeowee, her fingers brushing lightly over the skin at his shoulders.

It was a simple stroke, nothing more than a fleeting caress. Yet she witnessed his shudder.

He broke stride and Julia almost bumped into him. He turned.

She smiled, taking her time to look up at him as he stood before her.

He drew in his breath. He reached out a hand toward her. He touched her once, gently, then again, himself quivering in response.

“I love you,” he said in Lakota and then he took a step toward her, taking her in his arms so quickly, Julia barely had time to register the fact that he’d moved. He kissed her, his tongue searching out the taste of her mouth, imbuing his own taste within her. Conscious thought fled her mind, leaving nothing behind for her to grasp onto except the feel of him, his muscles hard beneath the satiny tone of his skin. His scent filled her nostrils, the slight muskiness of it mix in with the fragrance of sweet, prairie grass.

They might have stood there a moment or perhaps an hour. Julia couldn’t be certain. All she knew was him, his tongue, his body, his kiss still creating havoc with her stomach, her senses, her very being.

The ground felt warm and firm beneath her feet as the cooling winds of the storm blew in upon them. And still he kissed her, Julia responding with all the ardor within her, returning his passion one on one, her hands pressing against his chest, running over the smooth skin and sharp muscles there, up and down. She couldn’t get close enough. She wanted more; she wanted…

He dropped to his knees, she too, his lips, his touch never leaving her. His kiss deepened, his mouth, his tongue demanding more from her while he pushed her dress up and over her hips, her breasts, then over her head until she, knelt before him in nothing more than her moccasins. He ran his hands over her skin, from her breasts, to her buttocks, over her stomach to that secret place between her legs.

He groaned and, tearing away his breechcloth in one savage movement, broke off the kiss. But the moment of reprieve was quick. His gaze hungry, he looked at her, his hands following the movement of his glance. But it was too much.

“I want you,” he said in words she could understand.

“I want you, too,” she replied. And without another word being spoken, he drove into her, moaning as the tight recesses of her body fit around him.

“Julia,” he cried.

And Julia, hearing him, drew in her own breath, her body shivering in response to his. She needed this. She needed him. She moved up on him, her legs straddling him, her response to him wild, complete. And perhaps it was this that caused him to lose control. Julia could never be sure.

“I cannot wait,” he cried out, straining against her.

“Don’t,” she said as her sighs, her moans got caught in the storm winds blowing up all around them.

Lost in enchantment, Julia looked up to him, his gaze locking with hers. His hair tangled in the wind as did hers, his pitch-black locks and her dark ones intertwining, blowing around them as their only covering.

They strained toward one another, each one seeking a pleasure that was as delirious as it was sweet. Sweat broke out on them both, despite the cooling winds. Passion raged, emotion flared, Julia unsure she could endure the intensity.

“Neeheeowee,” she screamed.

“Julia.”

They came together, the culmination of their pleasure flaring into splendor. And still neither one dropped their glance from the other. They stared, both gazing at the other as a desert traveler might at water.

He moved. She met him.

And it started all over again, the pleasure, the intensity, the love, neither one looking away from the other.

Storm winds blew up, bringing with them the clouds, the rain, the thunder, and still neither one of them paid the storm heed. They loved through the rain, through the winds, the occasional lightning only throwing their bodies into better view. And if her screams were lost to the thunder, no one noticed. Certainly not Neeheeowee.

Somewhere in the night he brought the buffalo robe more fully around them. But it didn’t stop them. Their passion could not be tamed, and if they made love again and again throughout the night, they were to be forgiven.

After all, they had just found one another…

Chapter Ten

“Taku ote eciciyapi kta yustanpi,
I have much to tell you.”

“Han,
yes,” Julia said, “I know.” She smiled and looked over to Neeheeowee. The baritone timbre of his voice, its quality, caused her to quiver, and she wondered again, as she had done over these past few weeks, why neither one of them had remembered the language of the Lakota—a language they both understood. Although neither of them spoke it well, they could have at least understood one another sooner. Perhaps the intervening years had buried the memory in them both, awaiting only the jar of their situation to bring it back to them. What if Neeheeowee hadn’t remembered? What if he hadn’t… She shivered, unwilling to finish the thought.