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Authors: Constance O'Banyon

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BOOK: Savage Autumn
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“Why did he send us away then, Joanna?”

She heard Tag’s voice break and knew he had been affected more deeply than she thought by Windhawk’s rejection of her.

“Tag, sometimes things happen that you have no control over. What happened between Windhawk and me was one of those times. I think you should remember only that he loved you and forget about the rest.”

“He loved you too, Joanna…I know he did!”

“Taggart James,” she said, trying to turn the conversation to a lighter note. “All the men love me, haven’t you noticed, or are you as blind as I am?”

He grinned and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s because they know you are the prettiest and sweetest girl around.”

Joanna grabbed him and pushed him down on the bed, ruffling his hair. “You old flatterer. No girl is going to be safe from your charms when you grow to manhood.”

“I’m not going to have time for girls when I get grown. I gotta go back to Philadelphia.”

Joanna leaned back against her pillow. “So you shall, Tag…so you shall.”

Windhawk had not ridden back to his village after he had taken Joanna and Tag to the fort. He sent his warriors home, but he rode away to be by himself, he couldn’t bear to return to his lodge which he knew would be cold and empty without Joanna.

Sun Woman had watched each day for the return of her son. She would walk to the river and gaze across, hoping for some sign of him. Every night she had trouble falling asleep, listening for the sound of his arrival. She knew what was going on in her son’s mind; he was tortured with guilt, thinking he had caused Joanna’s blindness. He loved the white girl who had touched all their hearts.

She remembered Windhawk once telling her that he would never love another woman, and she now feared that was the truth. Sun Woman knew when her son finally did return home, she would have to speak to him. He was the chief and there were many who needed his guidance. It was not like him to run away from his troubles, but that was what he was doing now. Her heart ached for what he was living through. There was nothing she could do to help ease his pain, but she could help him face some truths.

Everyone knew about Sun Woman’s concern for her son, and each of them would also wait and watch for the return of their chief.

The light was waning and Sun Woman was sewing a new buckskin shirt for Windhawk. She had only the dim light from the cook-fire to see by, and she squinted as she tried to take tiny neat stitches.

The flap of her tipi was thrown open and Gray Fox’s wife, White Dove, stuck her head in. “He has returned, Sun Woman! The chief is here!”

Morning Song, who had been tending to the evening meal, ran to the opening. Her mother’s words stopped her before she could leave.

“Do not go to your brother. I will see him alone.”

Morning Song nodded and watched as her mother left the tipi.

Sun Woman entered her son’s lodge, and found it to be cold and dark. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw Windhawk lying on his robe with his eyes closed. Dropping down on her knees beside him, she saw the fatigue in his face and wanted to reach out and comfort him.

Without opening his eyes, he took her hand. “I hope you have not been worried, my mother.”

“Why should I be? Are you not now a man?”

He opened his eyes and she gasped at the pain in his dark eyes. “Yes, my mother, I am a man,” he whispered.
Sun Woman knew she could not tell him that she was hurting for him. She must not show that weakness. “I kept your lodge clean and lit the fire each day thinking you would return. Today, I did not light the fire and you came home.”

They were both quiet for a long time and finally Windhawk spoke. “I know that you have something to say to me, my mother. Why do you hesitate?”

“I do not know how to say what must be said.”

He smiled slightly. “I have never known you to be at a loss for words.”

“It is not a mother’s place to give advice to her son.”

“That has never stopped you before now,” he said, squeezing her hand.

Sun Woman sat down and looked him straight in the face. “I think it is time you quit feeling pity for yourself.”

“Is that what you think I have been doing?”

“Is it not?”

He sat up and removed his leather headband and tossed it aside. “You do not know what I have been feeling! No one does!”

“I know. I loved her, also.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “I will not talk of this with you.”

“Would you lie on your mat and lose yourself in pity, or would you act as the chief that you are?”

“What do you mean?” he questioned, knowing he had not tended to his responsibilities, but had run away.

“I have never known you to run from anything, my son. Why do you do so now?”

“What do you think I have run from?”

“One very small little girl who now needs you more than you need her.”

“You think I should not have taken Joanna back to her people?” Windhawk asked in amazement.

“You abandoned your wife when she needed you most.”

Windhawk felt his anger spark to life. “Would you defend her when she was the first to leave me?”
“Yes, I defend her because she acted with bravery. I think you thought to punish her for having the courage you first admired in her.”

He was quiet for a long moment pondering his mother’s words. “What would you have me do?” His words were more a plea than a question.

“I would have you go to Joanna and ask her if she loves you and wants to come home with you. Did you once ask her if she wanted to be sent away?”

Windhawk stood up abruptly. “Do you think me a fool? Did she not leave me? Was I not the cause of her blindness? Joanna will never forgive me for what I did to her.”

Sun Woman stood. “If you were still the son that you once were, you would go to Joanna. I did not know that I had a coward for a son.” Without a backward glance, she left the lodge.

Windhawk was silently staring into space. Could his mother be right? Had he acted the coward when he sent Joanna away? No, he had done what was best for her. It would have been easier to end his own life than give Joanna her freedom. He had loved her enough to let her go.

Sun Woman was blinded by tears. She had hurt Windhawk, but it had been necessary. “My son, my son,” she cried, leaning her head against the outside of his lodge. “I feel your pain so deeply.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Tag and Joanna had been living with the Jacksons for three weeks. Kate was very protective of her young charges and would not allow any curious visitors to pester them. She had already turned away several curiosity seekers by telling them that Joanna and Tag had only recently learned of their father’s death.

Joanna felt as if the walls were closing in on her. What she needed was a breath of fresh air, she thought.

She was alone since Tag had gone riding with Farley, and the Jacksons were attending one of the many functions in which they were expected to participate.

Joanna felt around until she found her fur-lined cape which was draped across a chair at the foot of her bed. Placing it about her shoulders, she made her way into the sitting room. Holding her hands out in front of her Joanna felt along the wall until she came to the door.

She stepped out into the cold night air and shivered, pulling her cape tightly about her. The wind was biting and stung her cheeks.

How she hated the world of darkness she was forced to live in! She resented the fact that she had to be dependent on others for help. Turning her face upward, she allowed the snow-flakes to fall onto her face. How sweet it would be to watch a snow-flake drift softly earthward, she thought.

Windhawk clung to the darkened shadows. It had been too easy to enter the fort under the guise of darkness. The gate had been left partially open and he had merely slipped through while the sentry was looking the other way. Gaining access to the fort had been easy; finding Joanna would be more difficult. He knew if he was discovered the long knives would not deal kindly with him.

Windhawk had gone to the fort where he had left Joanna and Tag, only to find out from an old trapper that they had been moved to another location. It hadn’t taken him long to discover they had been transferred to the fort which was to have been their destination before the wagon train had been attacked.

Captain Thatcher was crossing the compound on the way to his quarters when he saw Joanna standing on Colonel Jackson’s front porch. He had wanted to see her for days but had been out on patrol and hadn’t gotten back until late last night. Now was his opportunity to see her alone, he thought, as he walked toward her.

“Good evening, Miss James. It’s rotten weather to be out in, is it not? Aren’t you afraid you will catch your death?”

Joanna smiled when she recognized Captain Thatcher’s voice. “I have never had any objections to cold weather, Captain.”

He walked up the steps and rested his hand on the porch railing, while gazing down into her lovely face.

“Have the Jacksons made you feel welcome in their home, Miss James?”

“Indeed, they have. No one could be kinder than Kate and the colonel has been most solicitous.”

Joanna suddenly had the strangest sensation that someone was watching her, and the feeling had nothing to do with Captain Thatcher. The feeling was so strong that she turned her head in the direction from which the feeling came. Someone was definitely staring at her!

“Are we alone, Captain?” she questioned.

“Not entirely. There are two sentries pacing the stockade ramp. Other than that we are quite alone. Why do you ask, Miss James?”

Joanna pushed the hood of her cape back and shook her head. “No reason, it was just a feeling had. It has passed now.”

“Would you like to go for a stroll? I can guarantee you a firsthand guided tour, and this time you won’t be able to accuse me of having no romance in my soul.”

Joanna’s laughter bubbled out. She stretched out her hand and Captain Thatcher took it. “I can think of nothing I would like better. I will expect you to describe everything you see in great detail. Are you game?”

Harland placed her hand on his arm. “I will start with you. Has anyone ever told you that your hair is of a color unmatched by any other?” he asked lightly.

“Not so, Captain. I am told that my brother’s hair is the same as mine.”

“Yes, that may be true, but I believe you will forgive me if I think he is nowhere as pretty as you.”

Joanna smiled delightedly. “Would you turn the head of this poor blind girl, Captain?”

Windhawk could see Joanna and the long knife clearly
from the light that came through the window. He wanted to tear her away from the white man. His anger caused him to act rashly and he stepped from the shadows just as an armed patrol entered the post. He leaped back into the shadows until they passed. Their appearance had given him time to control his rage.

Windhawk watched as Joanna and the long knife walked away talking quietly. He had discovered what he had come to find out. Joanna was not grieving for him as his mother had thought. She seemed to be happy with the long knife. He wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. Unmindful of the danger he was facing, Windhawk waited for a chance to find Joanna alone.

Harland felt Joanna’s hand and found it to be cold. “I think it would be wise if I took you back now, Miss James. It is much too cold for a young lady to be out this time of night.”

Joanna nodded in agreement. “It is rather cold, but I have always found the cold invigorating, haven’t you?”

“No, as a matter of fact, it can be quite a nuisance when one is out on patrol.”

“Were you in Philadelphia last December, Captain?”

“As a matter of fact, I was.”

“Do you remember the ice storm we had Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, but I can’t say I enjoyed it, did you?”

She laughed. “As a matter of fact, I did. I remember Tag and me riding through the grounds and there were icicles hanging from the trees. It was like a winter wonderland. Later, my family gathered about the fire and we burned the yule log and sang Christmas songs…” her voice trailed off. “So much has happened since then,” she said wistfully.

They had reached the front porch of the Jacksons’ home and Harland helped Joanna up the steps. “I have found if one replaces old memories with new experiences, they will soon heal the old wounds,” Harland said. He stared down into her face wondering how many wounds she had that needed healing.

“I suppose so. I will say good-night to you now, Captain. Thank you for the walk.”

“It was my pleasure, I can assure you. Would you like me to see you inside?” he asked hopefully.

“No, I can manage alone.”

Harland watched Joanna disappear inside. He then walked away, glad he had had the chance to spend some time alone with her.

Joanna made her way cautiously across the room, feeling fortunate that she had no misfortune other than bumping into a chair. She thought how pleasant Captain Thatcher had been to talk to. She liked him a great deal.

Fumbling with the door knob, she finally reached her bedroom where she sat down on the bed.

Windhawk stood in the darkened corner of the room watching Joanna. There was very little light in the room since the only source of light came from the open door leading from the sitting room. He heard her sigh and watched as she lay back and placed her hands over the bandages which covered her eyes.

Suddenly, she sat up listening. She felt a presence in the room. “Tag, is that you?” She waited, but there was no answer.

“I must be seeing things,” she said aloud. “I mean, I must be hearing things,” she corrected.

Joanna began to hear the silence which was almost deafening. She felt a prickle of uneasiness because she was alone and it was so quiet. She wished Tag would come home. Surely he and Farley wouldn’t be gone much longer, since it was past the dinner hour. Lying back on the bed, she sighed. It was as if she could feel…Windhawk’s presence. She chided herself for her overactive imagination. Windhawk wouldn’t come to her. He no longer loved her, if indeed, he ever had.

Windhawk stood silently as his hungry eyes moved over Joanna. It had been a mistake to come here. Would it not have been better if he had never seen Joanna with the long knife? He watched as she relaxed and her hand fell off the side of the bed. He knew she had fallen asleep, but still he waited until he was sure she was in a deep sleep. He crossed the room and lifted the lid to her trunk. Removing the bear-claw necklace
from around his neck, he placed it in a small wooden chest and then carefully closed the lid on the trunk so it wouldn’t awaken Joanna.

Moving to the bed, he stood over her for a moment. He couldn’t resist the impulse to touch a flaming curl that was nestled against her cheek. His heart filled with love as he gazed one last time upon the face he knew would haunt him until his death. She had been his wife for such a short period of time. Her laughter had filled his days, and her goodness had touched his heart. He moved to the window and opened it, slipping silently outside. He made no noise when he closed the window and slipped away from the fort undetected.

Joanna was dreaming. She tossed and turned restlessly on her bed. Her dream was so vivid that she could feel the crisp autumn wind blowing against her face. She was reliving a time when she and Windhawk had been so blissfully happy. The brilliant colored red and golden leaves were drifting down all about her and she turned her head when Windhawk called out to her. Her heart was racing wildly when he took her hand and pulled her down beside him on a bed of soft leaves. She could feel his hand brush against her cheek, and then he traced the outline of her lips with his finger. She closed her eyes as his hand then moved down her slender neck to brush across her breasts.

The dream was so real now, Joanna could feel Windhawk’s dark gaze, and see the special smile that he had reserved for her alone. She smiled back at him when he lifted her gown over her head and tossed it aside.

“Surely not here,” she protested. “Someone will see us.”

His only answer was the shake of his head. Her body trembled when his dark eyes moved over her naked body with approval. Joanna rolled away from him and tried to reach her discarded gown, but he merely laughed and pulled her into his arms. For a moment she lay tensely, until his magnificent hands began to move in a circle across her smooth stomach. She closed her eyes allowing the sensual feelings to take over her being.
“Look at me, Jo-anna,” Windhawk said in a deep voice.

Opening her eyes she stared into dark eyes that were such a deep brown that it was almost impossible to see the pupil. The passion and fire she saw there made her draw in her breath.

Oh, yes, she remembered that day so well. He had gathered up several bright red leaves and had placed them across her breasts and along her thighs, while remarking in a teasing voice, that she would look beautiful dressed in a gown made of autumn leaves.

Looking above her, Joanna had watched the brightly-colored leaves drift softly to the ground.

Windhawk raised up and smiled at her. “Perhaps in the beginning of time, you and I loved each other in a place very much like this. It is possible that on a day much like today you gave yourself to me.”

Joanna could feel tears on her face. She was aware that it was only a dream of remembrance, and that was all she would ever have of Windhawk now. She could feel herself waking up and tried to hold on to the dream.

“No, no,” she moaned. “I want to stay with you, Windhawk.”

“Say that you will always love me, Joanna,” Windhawk said, touching his lips to hers.

“I will always love you,” she cried, feeling his hands becoming more intimate. Each time he would remove one of the red leaves from her body, he would kiss the place where it had been.

When he lay his face against her stomach, Joanna laced her hands through his ebony hair. The dream was so life-like she could feel his lips brush her stomach and move higher to nibble at her breasts, first one and then the other.

She felt her heart skip a beat when he slid his body against hers. With gentle pressure he drew her beneath him and her legs opened to invite his touch. Joanna couldn’t stand the torture any longer. She felt him move away from her and felt momentary confusion. That wasn’t the way it happened that day. He had made love to her lingeringly on that beautiful autumn day.

Looking into his face, she saw him scowl.

“Windhawk, please,” she pleaded holding her arms out to him.

“What do you want of me, Joanna?” His eyes were cold and unloving.

“Love me, Windhawk. Don’t ever stop loving me,” she whispered.

He frowned down at her. “Was it not you who stopped loving me, Joanna? Did you not give me back the necklace that symbolized our love?” His voice was deep and accusing.

“I wanted to be with you, Windhawk, but you sent me away.”

He stood up and looked at her with bored indifference on his handsome face. “It does not matter, Joanna. What would I want with a woman who cannot see? You are no longer Windhawk’s woman.”

Joanna held her hand out to him. “I will always be your woman. I am your wife.”

She could feel her heart break when he turned and walked away from her. Burying her face in her hands, she cried out her misery. The dream wasn’t supposed to end like this. That day in the woods he had held her and spoken words of eternal love.

“Windhawk, Windhawk,” she cried, knowing she could no longer hold onto the dream. She awoke and sat up in bed, feeling her tear-wet face. It wasn’t the autumn when she and Windhawk had been so happy together, but the middle of winter and she was alone many miles from the Blackfoot village, and the man she loved.

Joanna stumbled out of bed and moved to the window. Laying her head against the window pane, she shivered. It seemed that she could still feel Windhawk’s presence so clearly. Dear Lord in heaven, she thought, was she going to feel tortured for the rest of her life? Would the memory of Windhawk be the only thing she had to keep her company in her darkened world?

Kate was glad she had convinced Joanna to go to the officers’ dance. Doctor Morehead had come by that morning
and examined Joanna’s eyes, and she had been downcast ever since. Being with young people would cheer her up, Kate thought.

Kate buttoned the back of Joanna’s soft blue wool gown. “Joanna, you musn’t be upset because Doctor Morehead couldn’t tell you if you will ever be able to see. Just remember he said that it
could
happen.”

BOOK: Savage Autumn
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