Savage Tempest (10 page)

Sighing, Joylynn resumed placing the bark in the basket, surprised when Blanket Woman began helping her.

“It is done,” Blanket Woman said, placing her hands at her waist. She was obviously uncomfortable
from the bending and stooping. “You carry the basket back to the village. There is no need to tell the other women that it was I who peeled the bark, not you.”

Joylynn looked in amazement at Blanket Woman. Was the woman perhaps trying to make up for her earlier harsh words?

“The basket,” Blanket Woman said softly, nodding toward it. “Get the basket. The other women should be home by now, finished with their chores for the day.”

The more the woman showed such kindness, the more puzzled Joylynn became.

But she truly was happy for the change.

Could Blanket Woman, in time, be a friend to Joylynn? She desperately needed a friend in this place.

Although Joylynn was mesmerized by High Hawk, she could not let herself show him that she had feelings for him. She must never forget that she was his captive.

She wanted her freedom back, and she would have it, some way, somehow.

She thanked Blanket Woman, then walked to the village alongside her.

When the other women saw Joylynn with the basket of bark, they gave her looks of approval, some even smiling at her. Joylynn felt uncomfortable that she was allowing them to believe she had gathered the bark herself.

But since Blanket Woman had suggested the deceit, Joylynn took the credit that had been granted her.

She watched the women go to their husbands' corrals and place the bark there for their horses to feed on. Following suit, Joylynn went to High Hawk's corral and emptied her basket there.

She smiled when Swiftie approached the bark, sniffed, then turned his head away, as though putting his nose in the air over being offered such a thing to eat. He went back to where the grass was thick and nibbled on it.

“That's my boy,” Joylynn said, going to him and patting his thick neck. “You know what's best for you, don't you?”

Swiftie whinnied, gave her a look with his big brown eyes, then resumed eating as Joylynn walked from the corral and hurried toward High Hawk's tepee.

She stopped when she saw the women gathering together with their clean clothes and bathing supplies, then walking in a group toward the river.

Knowing she was filthy after her long day of work at the Pawnee village, she hurried after the women.

She looked around for Blanket Woman, and when she didn't see her, wondered where she was. The day before, she'd joined the others to bathe. Had the old woman overtired herself doing Joylynn's work? she wondered, feeling guilty.

When they all reached the river, Joylynn again bathed with her dress on, ignoring the curious looks of the other women.

Ignoring them, Joylynn enjoyed her time in the water, making certain her hair got a good soaking, for she did not want to smell of anything but river water when High Hawk entered his lodge for the evening.

Although she did not want to feel anything special for this man, she could not fight off the spiraling need that sometimes overwhelmed her.

He made her feel like a woman in a way no other man had ever done.

And she knew that if he tried to embrace her, she would allow it. She needed to know if her feelings for him were true, or just a figment of her active imagination.

If she did care deeply for him, what was she to do when she found a way to escape him?

Could she flee if it meant never seeing him again?

Her thoughts were so full of High Hawk, she wasn't even aware that the women were leaving the water until she found that she was alone.

Since they were already on shore, dressing, she lingered in the water for a while longer. She did not want them to see what her wet and clinging dress might reveal.

Only when they had all headed back toward their homes did Joylynn leave the water.

When she reached High Hawk's tepee, she was glad to see that he wasn't there. She would have a moment of privacy to change into a dry dress, one that was not revealing.

Once she had on dry clothes, she realized how worn-out she was. Sleep seemed even more important than food, even though her belly was grumbling loudly.

She went back to her bed of blankets, stretched out and was soon fast asleep.

Again she was plagued by the same nightmare that had troubled her almost every night since the rape.

She cried out in her sleep, then awakened with a start, wet with sweat. As she sat up, she realized that eyes were on her.

She had forgotten to lower the blanket that gave her privacy while she slept. She looked quickly over to where High Hawk stood just inside the entranceway. He must have only now arrived back home.

High Hawk came quickly to her.

He knelt down beside her. “What has caused you to cry out in your sleep?” he asked, searching her eyes.

Her heart pounding, she turned her eyes away. There was no way on God's earth that she would tell him about the rape.

Oh, Lord, she had to escape before she got much larger, for she did not want this lovely man to know what she had endured at Mole's hands. It was
something she did not ever want to say aloud to anyone.

She just wanted to have the child, hand it over to a preacher, then get on with her life. Until then, she had to continue guarding her secret in every way possible.

“Food is being brought for us,” High Hawk said quietly, seeing that Joylynn didn't want to talk about what had disturbed her so.

He would take one day at a time and hope that she would be more open with him soon. He cared so much for her. He wanted to be the one who helped her get past her hidden fears, if she would only allow it.

Then a terrible thought came to him. What if her troubled dreams were caused by his having abducted her?

What if her fear was of him?

His thoughts were interrupted when a woman's voice spoke outside the tepee. “I bring food for you and the white woman.”

He lifted the entrance flap and nodded a quiet welcome to the woman, who came into the lodge carrying a platter piled high with an assortment of meats and vegetables.

He took the platter from her, thanked her, then, as she left, placed the food on a mat beside the lodge fire.

Still without saying anything more to Joylynn, he
got two wooden plates and nodded toward them. “Come and sit by the fire with me,” he said. “The night has turned chilly. The fire will feel good.”

Joylynn gazed up through the smoke hole and noted that day had turned into night. She could feel the breeze as it came through the spaces where the bottom edges of the tepee had been rolled up.

She watched as High Hawk went and closed them, then came back and again nodded toward the food.

“Eat with me and then you can rest again, if you wish,” he said thickly. “My mother told me that you worked hard today and that you must be as bone-weary as she.”

Joylynn felt guilty about the older woman's tiredness, for it was surely because she had done some of Joylynn's work.

She swallowed hard, then went and sat down beside High Hawk. She realized how hungry she was when the aroma of the cooked venison and corn wafted to her nose.

“Thank you,” she murmured when he gave her a plate filled with food. “I am quite famished.”

He ate in silence beside her. He watched how hungrily she ate, but his mind kept drifting. He had searched for his father today and had not found him.

His mother even now sat crying beside her lodge fire, fearing the worst.

High Hawk would not give in to those same
fears. He continued to believe that his father would be home soon with an explanation for his delay.

“Has your father returned home yet?” Joylynn asked, as though she had read his thoughts.

All he could do was shake his head, his eyes revealing the despair he was feeling.

“I'm sorry,” Joylynn murmured. “Truly I am.”

“I believe you,” High Hawk said. “I have been with you long enough now to know that you are not only a woman of strength and fire, but also compassion. Your compassion is appreciated.”

“Are you going to search for him again?” Joylynn asked, thinking that the more often he left, the more likely it was she would find a way to escape.

But she felt guilty for thinking of herself when she could tell that he was so worried about his father.

“We will continue searching until we find him,” High Hawk said tightly. “But I am certain he will come home soon on his own.”

Her stomach comfortably full, and her eyes feeling tired again, Joylynn shoved her empty plate aside. “I truly must retire to my bed,” she murmured. “May I?”

“You do not have to ask permission for such as that,” High Hawk said. He nodded toward her bed of blankets, then followed her there.

For a moment she thought that he might be planning to go to bed with her, but he had only followed her in order to drop the blanket down, to give her privacy while she slept.

She climbed onto the blankets, once again grateful that he treated her with respect. She no longer felt threatened by him. She knew that if he had been going to take her, he would have done it already.

She snuggled onto her side on the blankets and fell into another deep sleep, but this time she dreamed sweet things . . . like riding Swiftie through a meadow of flowers with High Hawk at her side.

They were carefree and happy.

They were laughing.

And then a hawk suddenly swept down from the sky, searching for snakes and rodents, and spooked her horse.

She cried out in her sleep as she fell from Swiftie in her dream, then awakened in a sweat.

No matter that the blanket was there between them, when High Hawk heard her cry out in her sleep again, he could not help going to her to see if she needed comfort.

He hurried to the blanket and held it aside, his heart going out to Joylynn when he saw her leaning on an elbow, tears streaming from her eyes.

“You dreamed bad things again,” he said gently.

“Yes, partly . . .” Joylynn said. The beginning of the dream had been so wonderful. She only wished that it could be true, that she could be with High Hawk, happy and carefree.

But it was never to be.

They had met only because he needed a captive.

She had been in the right place at the right time for him to capture.

High Hawk wondered what she meant by “partly,” but he did not ask her. She was already lying down again, her eyes closed so she could go back to sleep.

He knelt beside her for a moment and watched her. Then he looked up through the smoke hole and saw the full moon gazing back at him. Again he was filled with concern for his father.

Where . . . could . . . he be?

Tomorrow the search for him would widen, but High Hawk could not go himself. He had duties to his people that kept him home, for while his
ahte
was gone for so long, he had to take over his father's duties as chief.

Ho
, tomorrow he would send out his most skilled scouts, who best knew the art of tracking and searching.

If they did not find his father, then High Hawk would truly be worried that his
ahte
might never be home again among his people.

He dropped the blanket down, hiding Joylynn from his sight, but he would not leave her during the night hours.

He would guard her, not because he feared she might flee, but because he did not want someone to come in the night and take her away!

If white eyes knew, somehow, that she was missing, they might already be searching for her.

His jaw tightened. He would not lose this woman to anyone!

She . . . was . . . his!

Alone, having eaten the morning meal by herself, Joylynn found herself restless, but she was reluctant to go outside and discover what would be required of her today.

Blanket Woman seemed intent on making her work.

Joylynn was afraid that one of these days, while mingling with the other women, one of them would notice her belly and realize that she was with child.

Of course she knew that it would have to happen eventually, for as each day passed, the child grew within her womb.

But she had hoped to keep that knowledge to herself until she found a way to escape. Then nobody but herself would ever need know.

“Escape,” she whispered as she shoved the empty wooden plate away from her.

She gazed over at the rolled-up blankets at one side of the tepee, knowing they were used for High Hawk's bed.

She crawled to them and ran a hand slowly over the bundle, then leaned low and smelled them.

A sensual craving that was unfamiliar to her swept through her at the scent of the man she should loathe, but now knew she secretly loved.

Everything about him spoke of gentleness and kindness, even caring.

He had never threatened her in any way, only treated her with respect.

She sighed and sat down by the fire, enjoying its warmth, for the nights and days had suddenly become cooler. She wished she could feel free to love that man, and he her. But the way they had come together was anything but normal, or right.

She was his captive.

He was her captor.

Such relationships should create hate, not infatuation.

But . . . she knew he felt something for her, too. Often she would catch him looking at her, so tenderly and, yes, so lovingly. She believed he regretted having taken her as his captive, yet if he had not, they never would have met. Like High Hawk, she truly believed now that it had been their destiny to meet.

Yet she was ready to turn her back on that destiny . . . on him. It just wasn't forgivable for a man
to take a woman forcefully. She had rights, and they had been taken from her, not once, but twice.

Well, she would take them back.

“I have no choice but to find a way to leave,” she whispered, tears suddenly in her eyes. “If only . . .”