Savage Tempest (15 page)

Joylynn found herself blushing, a rarity for her.

She smiled, then spoke with determination. “Must I remind you how I made my living before Mole interfered with it?” she said softly. “I did the work of a man, not a mere woman. I rode many miles a day on my steed to deliver the mail.
Doesn't that prove that I am strong enough to go with you?”

High Hawk saw her determination, and he knew she was stronger than most women, not only in body, but also in mind. He had never met such a strong-willed woman as Joylynn. She even surpassed his mother in that capacity!

But his mother could not even saddle a horse, much less ride one.

“All right,” he said, nodding. “I will let you ride with me tomorrow. I have returned home to rest and to pray. I must leave you for now, to tend to something, but I will return later. By then you should be asleep.”

He brushed a kiss across her brow, gave her a lengthy hug, then left, leaving Joylynn as alone as before.

Remembering the hug, and the feel of his lips as he brushed kisses across her brow, Joylynn hungered to have his lips elsewhere, on hers. She sat down beside the fire.

She wanted more now than ever to be his wife.

She had never thought she would find a man who would make her want to give up her life of freedom, but High Hawk did.

A part of her still hankered to return to the world of the Pony Express rider. Yet a bigger part wanted to act like a woman now . . . a woman who wanted a man, not dust on her face and mud on
her clothes after riding all day on her horse.

She wished that Mole could be found, for while he was out there, wreaking havoc on other innocent people, High Hawk's thoughts were mainly centered on him. And Joylynn wanted to talk with him about something besides Mole.

She wanted to talk to High Hawk about
their
feelings—hers and High Hawk's—for one another!

“And I will,” she whispered to herself. “Soon.”

In fact, she was determined to wait up for him tonight, even if she was awake into the wee hours of the morning, to finally tell him her truest, deepest feelings about life, about
him
.

Joylynn decided to take a swim in the river to pass away some time while waiting for High Hawk to return.

Swimming in the river reminded her so much of swimming in the pond on her father's farm years ago.

To be assured of privacy, she planned to go farther along the bank than the place where the women bathed.

She would not allow herself to think of the danger, namely Mole.

If he had an ounce of sense inside that grotesque head, he wouldn't come anywhere near the Pawnee village.

After grabbing up a soft buckskin towel, she paused at the entrance flap, having second thoughts about what she was planning. Was it truly wise to go so far from the village alone?

She set her jaw firmly. Yes, she would go and have that swim; she was no longer a captive. She could come and go as she pleased.

She hoped that by the time she returned to the tepee, High Hawk would be there. She wanted to smell clean and sweet when he arrived, for she was hoping for something more than kisses tonight from the man she loved.

She wanted his lips.

She wanted his arms.

She blushed as she thought of what else she wanted from him, for never in her entire life had she had such sensual thoughts about a man.

And after the rape, she had wondered if she would ever want a man to hold her in his arms, to press his naked flesh against hers.

But High Hawk's gentleness, his utter handsomeness, his muscles, his long and flowing raven-black hair, had made her forget her doubts about wanting to be with a man. In truth, she actually ached for him.

She shook her head. “What am I thinking?” she whispered to herself as she opened the entrance flap, holding it aside long enough to take a look outside. No one was aware of her scrutiny. They were too busy doing what they did each evening before the moon replaced the sun in the sky.

She was glad to hear the laughter of the children again. It had been hushed for too long after their chief's death.

He was buried now.

Slowly everything in the village was getting back to normal. Yet on some faces, she still saw the pain of recent loss . . . a husband, a brother, a cousin. . . .

Not wanting to think any more about gloomy things, longing to find joy in her life, not sadness, she stepped out of the tepee. When she began walking in the direction of the river, she noticed some women gazing at her with various expressions on their faces.

Some showed resentment that she was still among them. Those who had befriended her smiled and nodded.

The warriors seemed not to care one way or the other that she was there. They did not even seem to notice the direction in which she was walking.

Their attitude demonstrated that she
was
a free woman and could do anything she pleased.

High Hawk had told her that she was no longer his captive. She could leave if she wished. But High Hawk now knew that Joylynn had no desire to leave. He knew that she loved him.

She had hoped they could express their love for each other with more than mere words tonight. Perhaps that might still be possible. But first she had to be patient. He had been adamant that there was something else he had to do.

She thought it was to spend time in prayer, for he had said he needed to pray before leaving again to search for Mole.

The shine of the river was visible now as she
made a left turn away from the village. She searched for any sign of High Hawk. She had no idea where he went to pray. She hoped that one day she would know everything about him.

She walked onward beside the pristine river. In the clear water she could see the shadows of brook trout, and dragonflies sometimes dipped down close to the water. She smiled when she saw a wood turtle meandering along the embankment toward the brush a few feet away.

She was reminded of the pet turtle she had kept in a fish bowl when she was twelve years old. She had loved watching it, but she had begun to feel sorry for the turtle being imprisoned in such a way, so she had taken it to the pond and freed it.

She would never forget how quickly it went into the water and was lost to sight. She had understood then that it was wrong to keep anything captive, not even something whose companionship gave her such joy.

As the sun lowered farther in the sky, warning that Joylynn did not have long to enjoy her time in the water, she stopped. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was about, but spotted no one.

She looked to her left, at the thick brush that grew up to the forest's edge. She saw no movement there either.

She looked straight ahead again and saw nothing but the banks of the river. At last, she felt secure enough to undress.

She pulled her dress over her head and shook her moccasins from her feet. Only then was she aware how cool it had grown now that the sun was only a vague, purplish shadow along the horizon.

She hugged herself as she ran into the water, glad that it still held the warmth of a long day of being bathed in sunlight.

Joylynn dove into the water and began swimming. It gave her such a free feeling, something she had so enjoyed as a teenager. The water felt delicious on her body. She giggled when a tiny fish came up and nibbled on her leg.

She watched it swim away, probably disappointed that it had not found something to eat.

Joylynn resumed swimming, then suddenly realized how far she had traveled. She was far away from where she had left her clothes, and the sky would soon lose its light altogether.

She started to turn around and swim back to where she had entered the water, then stopped when she caught the scent of smoke. A thin spiral rose from a spot up ahead where there was a bend in the river.

Curious, yet knowing there could be danger so far from the village, she swam quietly onward to the bend in the river. When she reached it and could see where the smoke came from, she gasped and stopped, standing on the sandy river bottom.

It was a small frame lodge made of willows. Outside the entrance of the lodge, past the buffalo robe
that was being used as an entrance flap, was a fire built in a circle of smooth, round rocks.

Her eyebrows rose when she saw a large rock in the center of the fire, glowing red from the heat.

She searched further and saw a clump of clothes and moccasins lying near the small lodge. Someone was there.

“A man's clothes,” she whispered to herself, knowing now that she should turn around and swim quickly away, for where there was a man, a stranger, there might be trouble for her, a woman alone.

But just as she started to swim away, she stopped. She heard a voice singing something soft and low, as though in meditation, or prayer.

And then the voice was stilled and in its place came the sweet sound of what she thought might be a flute. Its melody was haunting and beautiful, making Joylynn believe that surely no one evil could play such enchanting music.

Her curiosity growing, Joylynn fought off the voice speaking in her head that said, “Go now, leave.” And then she was glad that she had ignored it, for she saw with whom she shared this beautiful early evening. Her heart leapt inside her chest when High Hawk crawled out of the lodge.

Joylynn felt a strange, sensual melting inside when High Hawk stood up and the sunset's glow fell on his naked, copper body.

She watched him stretch his arms above his
head, making even more of him accessible to Joylynn's feasting eyes.

She saw the rippling of his muscles, from his head to his toes. The way his hair fell down his back as he gazed heavenward made her long to run to him and run her fingers through it. She loved his hair, every inch of it!

She even saw that part of a man she thought she would always fear after being raped so viciously.

But seeing High Hawk's full anatomy only awoke a strange hunger inside her heart, a hunger only he could fill.

She looked suddenly away from that part of him and again gazed at his sculpted face. How on earth could he be so handsome? So alluring? Such a wonderful specimen of a man?

She had seen many a man in her time, especially when she was a Pony Express rider, but none could compare with High Hawk.

So far he had not spotted her, for she was standing in the shadow of a low-hanging willow tree. She wasn't sure what she should do. He had come to this secluded spot for privacy and prayers; wouldn't he see her as an interference?

But if he was finished praying, and had come out to dress for his return home, perhaps he would welcome her.

Suddenly her heart seemed to drop to her toes when High Hawk broke into a run and dove into the water and began swimming in her direction.

He seemed so intent on his swim, he had yet to realize that he was not alone in the river.

As he grew closer to Joylynn, she wasn't sure what to do.

Allow him to see her?

Or go farther back into the shadows of the tree, then swim hurriedly around the bend that would take her from his view?

Might he not like it that she had come to his private place?

Or would he marvel at her being there? Would he come to her and welcome her in ways that she was longing to experience with him?

Just watching him, being this close to him in the water, caused her to freeze. And then suddenly it was too late to leave.

High Hawk had stopped suddenly, his eyes on her.

“Joylynn?” he said, his eyes widening. He reached his hands to his wet hair and smoothed it back from his face. “Joylynn, you are so far from the village. Did you come this far because of me? How did you know where I was?”

“I decided to take a swim,” Joylynn murmured as he swam toward her, his eyes never leaving her. “I guess . . . I . . . swam much farther than I realized. I had no idea you were here. I thought I was swimming where I could be alone.”

He swam to her, then stood up, his eyes searching hers. “Do you not understand the danger of what you have done?” he asked, reaching a hand
out to her. “It might have been another man in the sweat lodge, not the man who loves you.”

“But it is you,” Joylynn said, her voice sounding strange to her. She was feeling emotions that she had never felt before in her entire life.

“
Ho
, it is I,” High Hawk said, smiling slowly at her.

His arms went around her and drew her against his body, where she could feel every inch of his flesh, even that part of him that she most definitely did not fear.

Instead, she ached to have him inside her. She needed him. Here was someone who could fill her every need and desire.

This was someone she loved with all her heart!

And . . . he . . . loved her!

“I love you so,” she murmured, melting inside when he brought his lips down on hers in a passionate kiss. His arms held her so tightly against him, she could feel his heartbeat blending with her own.

Both were pounding hard.

Their bodies strained against each other.

Their lips trembled with the emotion that was awakened within them.

And then High Hawk suddenly pulled Joylynn fully into his arms and carried her to the shore near his makeshift lodge.

He found a place of soft moss beneath a willow tree and spread Joylynn out upon it, then knelt down over her, straddling her with his knees.

“I have wanted you in this way for so long,”
High Hawk said, brushing her wet hair back from her face. “Have you wanted me as much? I have seen it in your eyes. I have heard it in your voice, that you did.”

“I did not know that such a want . . . a need . . . existed until I met you,” Joylynn said, reaching up and touching his thick black hair, then twining her arms around his neck.

“Are you saying that you want . . . to . . . make love?” he asked huskily, his eyes searching hers. “You want me in that way?”

“Oh, Lord, yes, yes, yes,” Joylynn cried, her eyes closing in rapture as he slid a hand over one of her breasts, cupping it, causing an exquisite sensation of bliss.