Steal Me Away (4 page)

Fancy stared at the young woman Bull Elk had greeted with
such kindness. She spun toward her and smiled. Not knowing who she was or if
she would treat her kindly, Fancy froze and stepped backward.

“Come, Shining Moon,” she said to Fancy in English almost as
good as her older brother’s. Then she took her hand. “I have much to tell you.
Much to show you.”

Willing herself to cooperate, Fancy let her lead her onward
into a tent.

“You will be my brother’s woman from this night onward.”

“His woman. No. I do not wish that.”

“You will be his wife.” The woman tipped her head, the
corners of her pretty mouth tilting up in sad assurance. “My brother is a good
man. Wise. Kind to his wives.”

“He has other wives?” Fancy’s heart fluttered in outrage.
Women who shared a man were such a new concept to her. Would other wives not
kill her in jealousy?

“No. His other two have flown to the Spirit. Only you will
serve him.” She reached out to grasp her calico gown and draw it upward. “I
help you prepare.”

Fancy shrank away. “No.”

“You have no choice.
Patuwa kum
has stolen you. You
are his prize. You will go to his as he wishes. That is law.”

“But I cannot be his. I—”

The woman dropped her hands. Then she stared at Fancy, her
dark eyes wide with shock. “You do not like my brother?”

“I do, but I cannot take him for my husband.”

“He will please you.” She grinned, her eyes twinkling.

The gesture melted Fancy. If this girl could be lighthearted
about a mating for her brother, then did that not speak well for him? For her
future? Fancy hoped so. Perhaps she could strike a friendship with this giving
girl. That alone would be a boon to her. “Do you have a name?”

“Willow Talks in your English.”

“Lovely.”

Willow reached out to caress a length of Fancy’s hair. “You
are lovely. My brother has wanted you for many moons. He will be ready to
please you many times tonight. Come and do not delay. I must wash you for him.”

“Wash?”

Willow Talks nodded, another look of acceptance drifting
over her broad face. “From the plains and the horse, you smell, Shining Moon.
My brother wishes to taste you tonight.”

Fancy shivered at the image her words provoked. Bull Elk’s
hands on her sent rivers of need flowing through her blood. His mouth on hers
scorched her reason. What would his lips and teeth do to her body that flowing
need and boiling desire had not already done to her willpower?

“
Patuwa kum
will please you beyond your dreams.”

Fancy blushed, glancing away at the surroundings of the
well-ordered tent and a broad buffalo skin cot.
Will Bull Elk please me
there?
Will he taste me there? And if he does, will I show him how much
I enjoy him? Oh, I want to.
“I do want to please him.”

“Then remove your dress, Shining Moon. Let me wash your body
for my brother. I have warmed water in my pot and
Patuwa kum
has told me
how to bathe you.”

“How?”

The woman gave her a sympathetic look that turned to sweet
glee. “With reverence for your breasts and your belly. With care to your virgin
pussy.”

Fancy recoiled at the last word. “I do not call it that.”

“My brother says your men do.”

“They do.”
I do. It thrills me. It makes me wet with
want. It disturbs me how much I like the word.

“Take your clothes from your body and give them to me. I
will see how well you will serve my brother with your gifts from the Great
Spirit. Do not fear for I will be your friend. Your servant. And when you give
my brother the proof of his power, when you give him sons, I will help you as
you scream and bring each one forth. All this is my duty.”

Fancy put a hand to her mouth, so overcome with Willow
Talks’ kindness that she wanted to cry. Yet she knew she had much to do tonight
and dared not show fear now. “I wish for a friend. But I tell you, still I am
afraid.”

“I understand. But I will never hurt you.”

As a sign of agreement, Fancy clutched her gown and shift
and drew them both over her head in one swift move.

Willow Talks examined her naked body for silent minutes as
she walked around her, lifting her hair, her arms, her breasts and kneeling to
part her woman’s lips. “You are wet. I smell how you have wanted my brother
today.” She looked up at Fancy. “Will you tell me that is so?”

Shaking with excitement to admit her desire for this savage
man, Fancy nodded. “It is so.”

“Good. If, after all that is past today for you, you can
want my brother more than you fear him, you are a worthy woman to be his wife.”

“You must tell me what to do to make him happy,” Fancy
whispered.

“I will, Shining Moon. Lie down on that and let me wash you
for him.” She pointed to the cot. “You must fresh. I will prepare you, put my
fingers inside you and stretch you.”

“Oh, I—I don’t think that is a wise idea, Willow Talks. I
am—”

“You are a girl. Untried by a man. I know.” She smiled. “I
will not hurt you. But if I do not open you, make you a little wet for him, he
knows he can tear you.” She cupped her own mound. “I am wet too at the honor to
touch you for him. Let me.”

Fancy swallowed loudly and agreed.

“Good. He will make you flow like a river for him, but my
brother is a big man with a large lance. And he likes to come inside a woman
with ease. He deserves a woman who gives all her body to him. You deserve to
mate with him with ease the first time. It will begin your life together well.
And you must allow him to open all of your body to him. Now sit here on this
cot. And let me begin your preparation for life as my chief’s loving wife.”

Surrendering to Willow Talks, Fancy lay back on the buttery
hide and enjoyed the dance of the girl’s fingers over her sensitive flesh. To
wash her, the young woman had a soft cloth and warm water and soap. Willow
Talks took her time, washing the whorls of Fancy’s ears, her throat, her
fingertips. She dipped her cloth and rinsed it to stroke Fancy’s throat, her
chest, her arms, her ribs—and then circled her full breasts. Tingling with
excitement from the girl’s strokes, Fancy moaned as Willow Talks held one
breast firmly and shaped a nipple with the warm cloth. Then she did the other.
When the girl washed her toes, her feet, her calves and thighs, Fancy held her
breath. Anticipation of her next strokes were drowned in the sound of her own
groans as the girl spread her thighs, washed her cunny so gently and then sank
one finger inside her cunt.

“Willow,” Fancy called out, unable to honor her with her
full name with her body and mind so full of hunger for a wilder sexual
experience. Fancy writhed, knowing only she wanted more and more.

And then Willow Talks withdrew her finger, dried her body
with a warm cloth and patted her hand. She took a small pot of oil and dabbed
droplets on Fancy’s temples, her nipples and inside her belly button. She then
picked up a pot of black glue and wafted it beneath her nose.

“Oh, that smells terrible. What is it?”

“Bear grease.” A grin played over her heart-shaped face.
“You will not worry. I must offer it by custom.”

“I cannot wear it,” Fancy said, making a wry face.

“My brother has declared you will not have it. But I will
save it for him to use on you tomorrow.”

“Oh, no. Why?”

Her eyes danced. “A special custom that you will like! Or so
say all the wives who have had it done to them.”

“What is it?”

“I will not tell. But no fear for you with this.” She hugged
Fancy. “My brother comes to you tonight, joyful to have you. And I know you are
his treasure. I pray you take him inside you here,” she said and pressed her
hand to Fancy’s mound, “and here,” she said and put a hand over Fancy’s heart,
“and make him your own treasure.”

The young woman walked to the flap of the tent. “When you
hear him come, you will be on your knees to face him.” Willow Talks turned,
stepped out and the flap closed behind her.

For the first time today, Fancy brushed her fear to the
recess of her heart and brought forth her desire for Bull Elk. She had no
choice tonight but to do that. She could not run from him. But she could enjoy
the man who was determined to join with her and she would allow herself the joy
of that union. Savage or not, this man wanted her. He had planned and fought to
gain her and keep her. He had kept her alive. For that, she was grateful. For
that, she would submit. And in the night if she also learned to enjoy his
devotion, she was brave enough and perhaps wise enough to accept his body into
her own. His desire as her due. His passion as a mirror of her own.

* * * * *

My brother White Hawk and I both walked toward the eastern
edge of the camp, a position where the old men always erected their sweat
lodge. I led the way, opening the flap and bending down to enter, White Hawk
close on my heels.

Smoke from their pipes burned my eyes. Heat from their fire
instantly warmed my skin and water beaded on me. Tobacco and smoke blended to
fill the air. A good thing I had led us here next to a raging river where I
could wash like a buck about to marry his virgin before I put my naked flesh to
my woman’s.

“My old ones,” I said once I sat cross-legged upon a buffalo
skin among them. “I am here to tell you of my journey today.” To be eloquent
was the mark of a noble brave among my Antelope tribe’s warriors. I began my
tale of taking a band of nine men south to Bravado, to the ranch of the Anglo
man named Turner. Leaving no detail out of how I wished to capture Shining
Moon, I told them of the man’s three daughters and the youngest, the most
lovely. I described the scene at her ranch as we galloped toward her and her
older sister picking weeds in their garden and took her for my own. “No one
followed us. No one attacked us. I returned to our camp through the rocky
climes where finding our tracks is difficult. You know the Anglo cannot follow
a horse as easily as we can. We will have no problems with the Anglos over
this.”

The oldest man among them, my uncle and the only remaining
living brother of my father, spoke first. “You count no coup today?”

“None. This was not my intent.”

“Yet word comes, Bull Elk, that Knows Brown Bear is dead.”

“He showed me disrespect. He tried to take from me the woman
I won by my own deed. She is my prize. This I would not permit him to steal.” I
could see from the expressions on their faces that they agreed with me and did
not blame me for his death at my hand.

Another elder leaned forward, skepticism on his wrinkled
brow. “This Anglo woman is so important to you?”

I nodded. “She is. You will see her tomorrow.” I considered
this a moment, then grinned. “Or perhaps not for a few days.”

They laughed, all knowing how lusty I could be from stories
that my two dear wives told of how well and how often I serviced them.

But I continued, lest they think I had not cared for Knows
Brown Bear in ways that were proper. “Knows Brown Bear was like many of us who
have lost a wife to the Great Spirit. He wished for a woman of his own. Yet, he
dishonored me by showing disrespect to the woman I have chosen and I cannot
permit anyone to do that. She will live among us a long time. She will bear my
children and serve me. As my first wife, she will be honored.”

“She is Anglo, Bull Elk,” said my uncle. “If she must be
yours, let her be a slave.”

“Never.” I had studied the Anglo and Tejano men and their
wives. If she were not my equal, she could not learn to love me.

“Then let her be your second wife.”

“As an Anglo, she would never consent to another woman
sharing my seed.” She would desert me if I did not honor her in her own way.
Besides, her pretty body would be more than enough to make me happy.

“But in coming years when you go to count coup,” my uncle
said, “you know that White Hawk has the right to comfort and protect her. It is
the law. She must lay with him if you depart.”

This rule that White Hawk could lie with her and give her
his seed I would honor, but only if she came to like him and agreed. It would
do no good to state this condition to my elders. But gazing at my handsome
brother, I gave him a warm smile and he returned it. “I will tell her and teach
her this is to be. White Hawk will help me.”

“She must agree,” my uncle persisted. “This way, she will
earn respect and better command the other women in the tribe. This is the work
for the chief’s first wife.”

“She will do this. In time. I believe she will.”
If I can
influence her to care for me, she will agree to enjoy White Hawk as her lover
as well. I will not imitate the Anglos’ anger over sharing a woman, but tame my
temper for this custom of my own people.
“The Great Spirit showed me in a
dream that she will be of great service to me and you, my people.”

“No Anglo ever serves us in any way.”

“The Great Spirit says this will happen for our children’s
children and beyond. But it will be so.”

My uncle passed me his great pipe in a sign of the end of
our discussion. “Claim her, my chief. She is yours by right. May you grant us
many children by this bride.”

I rose and thanked them. The Great Spirit had told me
Shining Moon would give me only one son. But he had also told me he would
become a good man, wise and rich by his own deeds. “Thank you. I go to my bride
who will be my only wife.”

I left and bathed in waters still cold from the northern
winter but my blood ran hot and thick. I had waited so long to have this woman
that I vowed to honor her and myself with my restraint.

I knew my sister had done her duty to my bride by bathing
her in river water warmed by my tipi fire. She would offer sage oil to mark her
body, then take my bride’s hair in her hands and offer black bear grease to
coat it. I had told Willow Talks that Shining Moon might not like the sage oil,
but that she should save it so that I might use it to easily shave her pussy
tomorrow. The bear grease my sister should offer her as well, but I did not
want my beloved’s tender beauty obscured by the black. That long graceful hair
I would wind around my own body as I took my bride and pierced her with my
lance. I wanted that thick mane pure and pale as the first day I had seen the
luster of it. Blonde, the Anglos called it.
Rubia
, said the Spaniards.
Whatever it was to others, to me her hair represented all that she would be to
me. Innocent until I had her. Untouched until I brought her to white-hot
ecstasy with my hands and mouth and pierced her with my essence.