White Shadows

by Susan Edwards

Then his finger spread her slick moisture over and around her. “Move. Hard and fast. Let me see you fly. Let me hear your pleasure.”

  Winona took all that he offered and more. She moved herself over him, controlled the pressure. Clay’s tongue trailed down her body, tracing the curved line of her spine.

  Pulling back his other arm, he slipped his other hand between her legs. Two fingers entered her deeply.

  It was all Winona needed. She tightened. Another hard stroke across her sensitive flesh followed by the sinking of his fingers deep inside her sent her shattering across the night sky like a star traveling from one side of the heavens to the other.

  Clay had never seen or felt anything as beautiful as this woman coming apart in his arms. Winona responded to his every touch with a wild abandon that enticed him. Ensnared him.

  Each shudder, each muffled cry of pleasure, each gasp and plea and each tremor that rocked through her increased his own joy. The greater her response, the more he gave. And the more he gave, the more she returned.

  Their loving was a circle. A flexible, ever-widening circle. Whether they took it slow and tender or hard, fast and wild, their circle matched their needs. Watching and feeling her respond not only to his hands, but his voice, had brought him to a stronger, harder and more desperate need for her.

  His need for this woman threatened to consume him. Rolling over onto his back, he pulled her on top of him. Her back lay against his chest; the back of her head rested on his shoulder.

  Bringing up his knees, and hers with his, he allowed his legs to fall open. His knees almost touched each side of their private little haven. Hers rested along the inside of his, leaving her wide-open to the soft, cool breeze that swept over them.

  Using both hands to separate her, he gave one hard upward thrust. Her heat surrounded him. Tiny convulsions gripped him and urged him to move and find his own release.

  She arched her back and tightened her sheath. Silently she urged him to stroke and find his release, but he held himself still. While he wanted nothing more than to thrust mindlessly, he also wanted to savor the slick heat, the throbbing in and around him.

  He reached up to cup her breasts. Pulling in a deep breath, he drew her closer. She moved with each breath. Her hips ground into his pelvis. He suckled at her neck and slid his hands down to hold her still. He throbbed and pulsed. Without even moving he was close to release.

  “Clay, you are not being nice,” she moaned.

  He laughed softly in her ear. Pulling out until only the tip of him remained inside, he thrust slowly back into her.

  “Slow, remember?” He repeated his leisurely stroke.

  “Have I told you that you are a heya?”

  Unable to help himself, Clay laughed. “A louse, am I?” He pushed himself in as far as he could, satisfied with her gasp of pleasure. Then he pulled all the way out.

  Winona protested. “I meant pejiwabluska.”

  A walking stick! Clay thrust hard back inside, cutting off her amused giggle. “Save it for morning, my little kimimila. My sweet little butterfly.” With that he stroked until, once again, they soared across the heavens, flying high and slowly sinking back to earth.

  Clay woke past dawn and grinned. For the first time since he’d known Winona, he’d woken first. Normally she woke before the sun.

  Her arms were draped over his body, her legs tangled with his. He shifted. She rolled onto her back but did not wake. Though they’d spent much of the night making love, he couldn’t think of a better way to start the new day.

  Winona stretched. “Is it morning?”

  “Yes, Golden Eyes, it is morning.” Glancing out across the lake to judge the time, he spotted a flock of birds taking to the sky. He went still and scanned the area. Minutes later his eyes followed the flight of three deer who leaped across the green grass until they disappeared back into the thick undergrowth.

  Frowning, he rolled Winona off him and lifted himself up as far as he could without hanging his head.

  Winona turned over and peered out at the tranquil lake. “What is it, Clay?”

  Clay backed out. “Come on, Golden Eyes. Get Moving. I think we have company.”

  Keeping low so he wouldn’t be spotted, Night Shadow watched Winona slip back into the hidden cavern through a narrow opening behind one of the wide rocks. He followed with the furs. Their clothing had been shed below.

  Once below, he dropped his armload of furs and used a piece of hide to wash himself while Winona did the same. The silence grew heavy between them. Their idyllic time together had just come to an end. Even after her father moved on, nothing would be quite the same.

  When he went to the small, naturally formed window, Winona followed. Anyone who was out there was still too far to see him from this distance. Winona got down and peered out through a tiny fissure. “I do not see anyone.”

  “They are there.” Of that Night Shadow was certain. Moving, he knelt down beside her. They stared at each other. “You are amazing.”

  He still couldn’t believe that Winona wanted to help him. It didn’t matter that there was nothing she could do to change his mind. The very fact that she wanted to save him from her father did something strange to his insides.

  “You could be free with one shout,” he said, the backs of his fingers sliding down her check and along one side of her jaw.

  “I will never be free again,” she whispered.

  Night Shadow knew her words had nothing to do with her sister. What she did now she did for him, and with him. She truly amazed him. The past few days were the happiest, most peaceful days he’d had since losing his family.

  Drawing in a deep breath, Night Shadow resumed watching. The waiting should have been easy. The hard part was done. His prey was within reach. But would all this bring him Jenny or just more heartache?

  He glanced out of the corner of his eye and watched Winona. Somewhere hidden by the trees her family searched. For the first time since embarking on this mission he wished he could have achieved revenge without causing more pain and suffering. Was it right for him to put his need to find his sister over the good of others?

  He was no better than his enemy. He grimaced. That wasn’t true. And had there been another way he’d have chosen it. But Henry Black Bear would never have told Night Shadow the truth, and once Henry knew Clay Blue Hawk lived, he’d never stop trying to kill him in order to keep the past buried.

  Night Shadow rubbed the back of his neck. He’d had no choice but to strike at Henry in a more public way. With Winona’s father involved, Henry would have pressure on him to return Jenny, if for no other reason than to keep Clay silent until Henry found and killed him or was killed.

  Nor would Henry reveal the truth or meaning behind the messages that Night Shadow had given to Sharp Nose to leave along the trail once they’d separated. The other two warriors had been instructed to ride off separately for a day, then backtrack. Crazy Fox was to follow Winona’s father and his warriors and keep an eye on Hoka Luta while Dream Walker kept Spotted Deer safely hidden.

  Night Shadow could only hope that Henry wanted the chief’s daughter badly enough to produce Jenny. Reaching down to take a strand of Winona’s dark hair between his fingers, he brought the silky strand to his nose and inhaled sunshine.

  She met his gaze and smiled at him. Night Shadow drew in a deep breath and leaned down to plant a kiss near the corner of her mouth. “I will never let you go.” He had no intention of letting Winona go back to Henry Black Bear.

  “I do not want you to let me go.”

  Her words warmed him. And made him feel guilty. What kind of life could he give her? Her father would never stop searching for her, and if he kept her with him they’d have to live alone, for he wouldn’t risk innocent people being killed if her father found them.

  “I want to help you.” Her fingers slid along his jaw.

  “I know. But what you ask is impossible.”

  Winona sighed. “You are thickheaded.”

 
“So you tell me—often.” He returned his attention to the lake.

  Shadows from the trees lining the lake emerged. Warriors on foot with bows drawn crept into view.

  “Shhh,” he said, grateful for an excuse not to discuss the matter. He’d never agree to meet with her father and present his story.

  Tense minutes crawled by. Finally a group on horseback left the concealing woods. He heard Winona draw in a deep breath as she saw members from her tribe below. “What are they doing here?” She whispered the question.

  Night Shadow frowned when he saw two women and several children in the group. “Who are they?”

  “My mother, my brother’s wife and their children.” Winona’s voice caught.

  “I’m sorry, Golden Eyes.” And he was, for if she stayed with him—if he could not release her—she’d never see them again.

  “It is not too late to stop this,” Winona whispered, looking at him.

  He clenched his fist and ignored her.

  “Clay, if I go to my father with your story he can help.”

  Throwing her an angry and frustrated look, he held up his hand. “No. If your father didn’t kill me, Henry Black Bear, the man you are to wed, would. Even if it meant being killed himself, he would not let me live long enough to tell my tale.”

  Winona stood. “First, I am not going to marry Hoka Luta, or Henry or whoever he is. And I am smart enough to talk to my father alone. Once he knows the truth, he can take Ho—Henry prisoner and make him tell us where Jenny is.”

  She sent him a pleading look. “It is a better plan than dying if he does catch you.”

  The man in him needed her more than anything. But the warrior, far too used to being in control, could not take what she offered. It wasn’t just pride or his distaste for failure. It went deeper. This was something he had to do. Henry wasn’t just his problem; he was Clay’s redemption, and until he’d met Winona, he hadn’t realized how important it was for him to come face-to-face with his past.

  Since his Golden Eyes had come into his life, the man inside had broken through the walls of the self-imposed prison he’d erected and was slowly merging with the emotionless warrior.

  Night Shadow had planned and waited for this moment. Night Shadow, the trained warrior, would not hesitate to kill Henry, a man who’d cold-bloodedly wiped out a family of women and children. But he had to know that the part of him that was also Clay Coburn could go through with it. Clay had to face his past and end the hatred and torment in order to claim his future.

  Staring down at Winona he knew it would be so easy just to take her away and disappear. There were many places they could go where no one would find them. But it wasn’t the life he wanted for her, their children or himself, and this wasn’t something he could ask others to do for him.

  He didn’t tell her what he only now understood. Finding Jenny and learning of her fate wasn’t his salvation. It was only part. He had to face Henry and face his past with all the horror, betrayal and his own feelings of guilt before he could release the bitterness and hatred that held him chained to the darkness.

  With this woman, he’d seen light—walked in it and wanted it totally. And because of the gift of life she’d given him, he was determined to come to her a whole man. Not two men. He had to blend Clay and Night Shadow into one.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Standing near the stone window fashioned by Mother Earth’s loving hands, Winona stared out into the foggy morning. A pale sea of moist, thick cotton floated far below her, concealing the dark blue lake and bright banks of green grass.

  She rubbed her arms. Moisture dampened her skin and collected on the brownish-gray walls of granite. Breathing in the chilling air cleared her mind, but her soul felt frozen. Shifting slightly, she rested her shoulder against the clammy wall and watched Clay gather his weapons and strap on his knife.

  Dread crept through her heart. Neither begging, pleading nor anger could sway him from leaving their safe haven to scout the area to be sure her family had left. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she sought the words to keep him from leaving. Moving close to Clay she rested her palms on his shoulder and stared down at his head. Her fingers trailed through the golden-brown strands of his hair. It was soft and silky. Her fingers tightened.

  “Stay with me, Clay. You have warriors following my father. Wait for them to come to you. You do not know where Henry is. It is not safe to go out.”

  Clay stilled. “I am a warrior. I will not hide like—”

  Winona dug her fingers into the cool flesh of his shoulder. “Like a woman or child? At least you would be safe. Henry could be out there, watching. What if Sharp Nose or Crazy Fox cannot come to you without fear of Henry seeing them?”

  Clay pulled away to sling his quiver of arrows to his back.

  Shaking her head, Winona fought the urge to throw one of many large stones at his hard head. “You are a fool if you leave.” She paused. “If you die, you fail me. And you fail your sister.”

  The tensing of Clay’s shoulders was her only indication that her words struck him.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Frustration made her want to scream, but she didn’t dare. “Clay—”

  Clay whipped around. His eyes were dark as the stone walls surrounding them. “No more, Golden Eyes.”

  Winona clamped her mouth shut to hold back words of love. Her need for him was so great that she wasn’t sure she could even put it into words without falling apart.

  She whirled around and returned to the window. If he was determined to get himself killed there was little she could do. A single tear escaped. She loved Clay with all her heart and wasn’t sure she could live without him. How could he do this to her?

  Gentle pressure on her shoulders brought her around. Clay’s fingers tipped her chin up, then spread along her jaw as he cupped her face tenderly in his hands. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, licking the salty tears as they fell.

  “I will be back before the sun is directly overhead, Golden Eyes.” His thumbs smoothed over her face.

  Winona closed her eyes, ashamed of her weakness. She shuddered when he planted a kiss, light as a wisp of fog, near her eye.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Then he was gone.

  Winona kept her eyes tightly shut. He loved her. The tears flowed faster. In her mind she called him every name she could think of. If he loved her, how could he leave? How could he love her and yet not do all in his power to spare her this hurt and worry? If he loved her, he’d do everything in his power to live.

  For her.

  With her.

  Filled with fear and despair, Winona opened her eyes and stared around at the place that had become a cozy home in so short a time. How could she have fallen in love with a man who was stubborn, foolish and so much a part of her that if anything happened to him, she wasn’t sure she’d survive?

  Tipping her head back, she sighed. Love was not as pleasant as it seemed to an outsider, she realized. Love hurt. It was not supposed to hurt, but it did.

  Closing her eyes, Winona thought of Clay, of all the things she loved—and hated. She frowned. She loved his loyalty, his devotion, his strength.

  Where most young men in Clay’s position might have given up and not survived Henry’s attack, Clay had lived—not for himself, but for a young sister he so clearly adored.

  Winona sighed. Clay’s devotion and the depth of his feelings for those he loved made him who and what he was. Did she have a right to try to hold on to him for herself? Slowly she moved away from the window. No, she did not. Clay’s path had been set long before she’d met him, and had she been his younger sister, she’d have wanted to know that she’d never been forgotten.

  Love was selfless, yet all-encompassing. And it was that selfless love on his part that kept Clay from hiding from his enemy and relying on his friends to do all the work. Especially now that he had her. She knew he had to resolve his past in order to have a future—with her.

  Thou
gh she knew all this deep in her heart, it didn’t ease the ache. And that, she knew, was part of loving. Stooping to pick up a thick fur, she carried it over to the largest crack beneath the window and sank down. It was going to be a long day.

  Night Shadow moved slowly through the trees to a place he’d arranged to meet Crazy Fox, who, according to their plan, was to stay behind after Winona’s family continued on. Sharp Nose would also be near and would return to the cavern as soon as he led Winona’s family and the rest of the warriors, including Hoka Luta, to a place not far from the lake.

  The false trail would dead end with one last message: a place and deadline for Jenny to be returned. Then, as soon as Dream Walker returned with Winona’s younger sister, the six of them would head for the next place of hiding Clay had chosen—a place they’d be able to remain for the summer until it was time to see if Henry Black Bear produced Jenny. The Sun Dance, held at the end of summer, seemed a long way off.

  He drew in a deep, cleansing breath of air, felt the wetness burn his lungs and dampen his skin. He’d done all he could, and if Henry didn’t return Jenny by the time the Sun Dance was held, Night Shadow wasn’t sure what he’d do. He only knew he could not sell either Winona or Spotted Deer, as he’d threatened. If this plan to get his sister back failed, then he’d have no choice but to go after Henry Black Bear.

  Then what? Return Winona to her family? His gut clenched. No! He needed her. She was the air he breathed, the warmth that glowed deep inside him, and the nourishment his soul needed to thrive. She was the light that chased away the darkness of his past—she was his future and he would not part with her.

  Yet could he take her away from all she knew and loved? Could he take her from her family, knowing that she might never see them again? Unfortunately, that was their only choice. Her father would not accept him—not after taking her from her family, no matter what Winona claimed.

  And what of Winona? Could she live with him, live with always looking over their shoulders, fearing that her father’s warriors had found them? He tightened one hand into a fist. Had Winona been his daughter he’d never stop searching for her—just as he’d never stopped looking for Jenny and never would. Until he learned of her fate he could not rest, and so he could not expect different from Winona’s father or brother.