A Find Through Time

by Marianne Petit

  The sound of footsteps walking up beside her, she jerked open her eyes.

  Rattling Blanket handed her a woven blanket. “It is cool.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I have not offered my gratefulness to you. You brought my daughter’s child back when I feared his danger. It is I who should thank you.” Rattling Blanket sat. “There is a sadness in your eyes. They tell me you think of another. It is not my son you think of, for he brings the brightness to your eyes. Who then?”

  In the distance the light melodious song of a flute danced upon the wind, like a sweet voice calling.

  “I was just thinking about my mother.”

  “You miss her?”

  “Well… yes.”

  “I will tell my son to bring you to her.”

  I’d like to see him do that, Gabrielle thought with cynicism “He can't.”

  “She is far from this place?”

  “Yes, very far.”

  “My son should never have brought you to us. It is not right. Your mother's heart must be heavy with sadness.”

  Would Willimina be worried? Probably. At least she hoped so. Gabrielle sighed. “Do not be angry at Two Moons. It is not his fault that I am here.”

  “You care deeply for my son and he for you. He is a changed man. His footsteps are lighter. The anger that once clouded his vision is fading. When we talked about his father this night, his words were not as heavy with guilt and sadness.” Rattling Blanket, placed her hand, over Gabrielle' wrist. “It is because of you.” Her eyes were misty with gratitude. “I think you may be good for him.”

  Her acknowledgment brought a lump to Gabrielle’s throat.

  “It is hard for a mother to watch her child struggle, we want to protect and shield our children from hurt.” Rattling Blanket chuckled. “It is like that for mothers. It is in our blood. One day you will know of what I speak.” She patted her hand.

  Her gentle sign of affection touched Gabrielle.

  She wondered if her mother felt the same way as Rattling Blanket. All these years she thought her mother hated her, blamed her for Charles' death. Maybe she didn't. Willimina wasn't the warmest person in the world, but maybe that had nothing to do with her. “I only hope I can be as good a mother as you.”

  “You will do good.” Rattling Blanket stood. “Come. Soon the sun will awake and we leave. It is a shorter walk to our next camp, but you will need some sleep.”

  Their next camp! Gabrielle scrambled to her feet. For a moment she'd forgotten their destination.

  “Rattling Blanket…” Forewarning her about the battle, tipped her tongue. “Thanks for talking with me. I was feeling a little homesick.”

  Rattling Blanket nodded, then stepped into the tepee.

  Gabrielle sighed. She didn't know if she felt better after their talk, or worse. Added to her list of growing concerns and confused emotions was the need to talk to her mother and learn once and for all just want Willimina's true thoughts were; only that would mean she would have to leave; and that thought grabbed her heart and squeezed.

  ****

  All morning, Two Moons thought hard on Blue Eye's words. He had seen the fear in her eyes when she had spoken about their new camp. How did she know there was to be a fight? Had she heard those words at the white man's walled village? Before he spoke his thoughts with the elders, he would need to learn more. Yellow Hair. To meet him again, that would be good.

  He fingered the knife at his side, then let his hand drop. For the first time, he wished not to think on the Yellow Hair. Last night he had gone to see Black Hawk. He had had a flute made for her. Far from their camp and for most of the night, he had learned the courting song he wished to play for her.

  He turned and glanced to Chahanpi's lodge where he knew Blue Eyes would be resting. He should go to her, tell her how he felt, tell her of his growing need for her and of his growing love. It had to be love.

  He glanced down at the neckband he held in his hand, the one he had made her from the claws of the bear he had killed; the same bear she had fought against. He hoped his gift would bring a smile to her lips. She was so beautiful when she smiled.

  Two Moons clenched the claw band in his palm. He would return to his lodge and wait. That was where she would find him; that was where he would present her with his offering of love.

  His steps hurried, he made his way back to his lodge.

  A soft, light voice, raised in song, coming from his place of shelter stopped him dead in his tracks.

  That voice. He had heard that voice before, in his vision. He took a step closer, half in anticipation, half in dread. His body stiffened. It was the song sung by his Spirit Woman. A voice he had longed to hear. But where that song once offered comfort, it now ripped his soul.

  Two Moons' thoughts scattered like the falling leaves. He should just leave, pretend he had heard nothing and perhaps she would be gone, for he had no desire to meet this woman of his dreams.

  Deep down in his heart he knew he could not walk away. This was the woman Tunkashila had chosen for him. And although his heart was heavy, he could seek her out. He tucked the neckband at his waist.

  Slowly, with feet that seemed rooted to the ground he pushed himself forward. His fingertips touched the front of his lodge. He hesitated. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, mustering the will to take a step forward-a step that would forever change the path he was to walk.

  With a flick of his wrist he threw open the flap and glanced inside.

  Caught off guard by the sight before him, he stared wordlessly. There before him, sitting cross-legged on his blanket of fur, braiding her long black hair and completely naked, was Blue Eyes.

  Their gazes met.

  Her hair, kissed by the rays above, shone blue-black. Her skin glistened like honey under the sun.

  The unexpected, like a flash of light lashing through the sky, slapped him, and a flood of relief broke throughout. He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees before her.

  “It is you.” His words seemed lodged in his throat.

  “Two Moons are you all right?” Confusion and concern touched her brows and clouded her eyes.

  He glanced to her breasts where a circle of gold lay snuggled between her soft mounds. Could it be? His heart raced. He reached out his fingers, then stopped. His eyes rose. “Tell me of this gold you wear. From where did it come? I have never seen it before.”

  She glanced down and lifted the gold, fingering it lightly. “This locket? My grand-my father gave it to me. It is a present for my mother.” She brought her other hand over and cracked open the metal. “See, it is a picture of my family.”

  Two Moons’ spirit lifted. A four-sided piece of gold. He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed gently. “Do you know what this means, this gold rope you wear around your neck?”

  Happiness made his chest swell-made his heart sing-for the song she had sung only moments ago, now echoed in its chambers.

  ****

  Gabrielle raised herself from her sitting position to kneel as he did. “What? What does it mean?”

  She stared at him, startled by his reaction.

  Two Moons held the locket between his fingers. A smile lit his face. “I have seen this in my visions. You are the one who brings sunshine to my face, the one that makes my heart sing. It is you, my chosen one whom I love.”

  Love. Tears sprang to her eyes. Her chest constricted. He said he loved her. She rested her cheek in his hand and closed her eyes, feeling his comforting touch, letting that word register in her mind. Cradled against his open hand the veins in her neck pulsated wildly against his caressing thumb.

  “Wiwasteka, my beautiful woman.”

  She opened her eyes and gazed deeply into his. He thought her beautiful. She had wanted this, to see his desire. She had waited patiently for him, knowing what would happen once he saw her. She had scrubbed her skin until it tingled and then dried herself with fur. A mixture of pulverized columbine seeds and water perfumed her entire body. Fo
r what had seemed like an eternity, she’d brushed her hair until it shone. She'd waited, letting the warmth of the sun shining from the opening above finger her naked body, preparing herself for his return.

  His voice soft, deep and sensual, licked her skin like the heat of a flame. “I burn hot for you,” he whispered against her ear.

  “And I for you.”

  “Listen to the language of my heart.” He placed her hand against his bare chest. She could feel its rapid thumping.

  “My heart too, speaks your language.” She brought his hand to her breast.

  His dark velvet eyes beheld hers. Slowly, seductively, his gaze slid downward over her body–a gaze as soft as a caress. The air around them seemed electrified. She drew in a shuddering breath. The fresh scent of pine and mountain mahogany leaves that lay scattered around them, filled her lungs.

  He leaned closer, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her near. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His leather loin cloth pressed against her hips. His chest crushed her breasts.

  “Winyan. Tanyán yahí yélo.”

  Their lips only inches apart, she could taste his hot, hypnotic whispers upon her mouth. The need to touch him, to feel him touch her was insatiable.

  She stared deeply into his eyes-magnificent dark eyes, warm with desire. “I do not understand your words.”

  “Woman,” he repeated. “I am glad you came.”

  His musky scent intoxicated her. “I love the way you speak. Tell me more.”

  “You wish to speak my tongue?” His brows rose and he smiled. “That is good. There are many words I would like to say; much I would like to teach you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His long black hair tickled her collarbone.

  “This is ituhu and this…” His lips were warm upon her nose. “Poge.” He ran his finger lightly across her cheek, then down, trailing a blaze of heat to her mouth. “Wicai.” The word was a bare whisper that fanned her face. “And one such as yours was made to be kissed.”

  His moist, firm lips pressed against hers. His tongue gently coaxed her to let him in-and she did. He tasted of tobacco and sweet grass.

  Clinging together they fell back against the fur. On his side and facing her, his broad chest felt smooth against her breast, his flat stomach pressed into her hip.

  His kiss grew hungry, urgent and she returned that kiss with the same wild intensity. Breathless, they parted. Up on his elbows, he gazed into her eyes, studying her, then he leaned down and kissed the pulsating hollow at the base of her throat. “Tahu,” she heard him say before he moved to her earlobe and sucked.

  Between each whispered, erotic word describing her body, he planted kisses on her shoulders and neck, down her arm and kissed her knees. His large hands explored her body. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth. She breathed quickly between parted lips. He eased himself lower and playfully planted kisses around the outer part of her breast, then worked his way in a circular motion, coming closer and closer to her nipple. She could feel her tips grow hard. “Azepinkpa…”He swallowed the word as his mouth descended covering her breast.

  She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be swept up by the rapturous feelings he aroused. Her head lobbed back and she could feel the veins in her neck stretch tautly.

  His wet hot tongue stroked and licked her aroused, swollen tip. She writhed beside him. Lifted to a height of passion she'd never known before, a primitive groan escaped her lips.

  One hand slid down her stomach to the swell of her hips, then ever so slowly moved lower, skimming her body to her inner thighs. The light stroking of his fingers made her quiver.

  When he slipped his thumb up into her moistness exploring her inner folds, she gasped and arched her hips.

  “Your body’s voice tells me you like this.” In and out he teased her, rubbing around in her wetness.

  “Yes-oh, yes.” Pleasant spasmodic jolts shot through her.

  He pressed his palm flat against her groin and thrust his finger forward. “And what does your body say now?”

  From deep within a warmth spread, pumping her blood, igniting her groin. Her legs fell open. “Don’t stop,” she murmured. Her hips began to rock.

  He leaned over and captured her mouth with his in a kiss that left her lips throbbing.

  Wanting to please him as he did her, she reached over and slipped her hand beneath his breechclout. Soft yet hard against her palm, she felt him lengthen under her stroking thumb. God, he felt so big. So hard. So warm.

  His fingers stopped their playful onslaught and she watched him untie the strings of his breechclout and slip it off his hips. Staring into his compelling dark eyes, she could see the desire igniting their deep endless depths.

  He hooked his leg over her thighs, pressing his naked body against hers. His one hip rested on top of hers. His heated erection rested between her thighs. The warmth of his flesh intoxicated her. He nibbled on her neck, cupped her breast in his hand and fondled her taut nipple.

  As his fingers worked their magic, she writhed beneath him, eager to feel him inside her. As he roused her passion, his own grew stronger. His rigid tip nudged her, seeking entry and she welcomed it. He hesitated, studying her face. She arched closer. Then, with a driving need that matched her own, he bore down, his pulsating hardness filling her.

  A quick, sharp pain tore through her. She gasped as her body stretched to welcome his enlarged rigid flesh. A burning pain quickly disappeared, leaving only a consuming need to feel him even deeper.

  Abruptly he withdrew. “I have hurt you.”

  Like a slap of cold air, the emptiness she felt startled her. “No.”

  She was a virgin. The thought floated through her feathery mind, then rocketed through her semi consciousness. The shock hit her full force. Her eyes widened in astonishment as feelings of elation soared.

  “You could never hurt me.” Her second chance at love! It was like being born all over again. Never had she felt this way when she’d made love with her fiancé.

  Not believing her, Two Moons’ face clouded with concern. “Perhaps you are not ready for me again.

  She wrapped her arm around his neck and drew his closer. “I am ready. I’ve always been ready.”

  A devilish smile tipped his lips. “Good.” He kissed her nose, then rolled off her. “For there is much I wish to bestow upon your beautiful body.” He stood then turned. Her gaze followed his lean, athletic body; studied the sinewy muscles of his legs and the way his smooth bronzed buttocks pulsated as he walked. He reached for his headdress, which hung over his chair and plucked a single feather from the cloth band. His stride quick, he was back and kneeling by her side.

  He brushed the downy feather along her arm. The hair on her arms rose. Its velvety tip caressed the hollow of her stomach. Feverish waves of liquid delight flushed her body. He ran the soft feather up and down her legs, back and forth between her thighs, teasing, tickling her ever so slightly between the soft folds of her womanhood. Her legs quivered. An outcry of delight broke from her lips in a fevered pitch.

  Happiness shone in his eyes.

  “Please. Please,” she pleaded as she stretched out her arms to welcome him closer.

  He grabbed her hand and kissed her open palm. “Patience, my blue-eyed one. Patience.”

  He ran the silken feather across her forehead, slowly, sensuously to the tip of her nose. The tickling sensation left by his invisible trail lingered as he brushed her lips. She nipped at the feather, ran her tongue over the satiny plumage then sucked the tip in her mouth. He watched her, his eyes widening. The feather dropped from his hand. The veins in his neck throbbed. His breathing raced.

  Unable to hold back the desire she saw coursing through his taut body, he mounted her, his knees bent, his legs between her open thighs. His hands rested by her shoulders. He held his upper torso up so that her taut breasts touched his chest ever so slightly. His elongated shaft positioned close to her groin, made her heart pound. She reached down and grabbed him, r
an her hand up and down the length of him, pressing firmly near his root, fondling his stiffness. He groaned and she urged him closer and closer till his swollen tip rubbed against her moistness.

  He raised to a sitting position, slipped his hand beneath her buttocks and yanked her to his hardness. She wrapped her legs around his back as he thrust himself deep within her ready flesh.

  Waves of ecstasy throbbed, engulfing her as he pumped and rocked against her. She met him thrust for thrust, arching up to take him in. Her hands clenched at her sides. He cupped the meaty flesh of her buttocks. And as the hot tide of passion raged, rocketing them higher and higher, the world seemed to spin around her, swallowing her up once more.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Over the next couple days, Two Moons became her world. He was the air that she breathed, the sunshine that filled her life.

  He courted her by day, showering her with presents, a silver comb, a spray of flowers. At night, he'd serenade her with his flute.

  He taught her the names of the animals and birds. Which plants were good to eat-which were poisonous. He recited Sioux legends about the sky and the stars and how his people came to be upon this earth. He never lost his patience when she failed at a task he tried to teach her. Yet--With each mile traveled Gabrielle's heart felt heavier. One moment she felt cheered by his love; then she would sink to uncontrollable depths of despair, knowing the terrible plight of his people. Knowing the fulfillment of history and the battle that was to come, was like a curse overshadowing their love. Many times she had tried to tell him the secret burning in her chest, but each time she tried, they were interrupted by something needing to be done, or someone needing their help.

  She heard his husky voice and glanced up. If he was trying to impress her by his appearance, it worked. He looked magnificent. Her breath caught as she stared at him. The long, fringed mustard-colored shirt hanging a foot or so below his waistline shimmered as he walked. The sun's rays played with the multicolored beads and silver hanging disks, creating different light patterns with every turn of his body. The elk’s teeth hanging across the yolk of his shirt struck the broad expanse of his clavicle as he stopped before her. A spiraling rush of anxiety began churning throughout. She had to tell him everything.