Love in the Wind

by Madeline Baker

  “You are my good friend,” Iron Wing said quietly, “and you speak the truth. But I must do it. I cannot be less than a man, not even for her.”

  Tall Buffalo nodded slowly. Iron Wing was a proud man, a leading warrior among their people. He could not sidestep his responsibility because of his affection for a woman, especially a white woman.

  With a sigh, Tall Buffalo laid his hand on his friend’s shoulder, then stepped back into the crowd.

  Katy closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the post as Iron Wing raised the heavy rawhide whip over his head. Her whole body tensed in dreadful anticipation of what was to come.

  Iron Wing took a deep breath. Had it been possible, he would gladly have taken the whipping in Katy’s place. But it was not possible. Katy had broken the law of the tribe, and for that she must be punished.

  Knowing the waiting must be playing havoc with Katy’s nerves, Iron Wing struck the first blow. He felt a sudden sickness in the pit of his stomach as a narrow ribbon of scarlet appeared on the smooth flesh of Katy’s back. Hating himself, he raised the whip again.

  The second blow, far worse than anything Katy had expected or imagined, brought tears to her eyes and she sank her teeth into her lower lip to keep from crying out loud. The third blow came hard on the heels of the second. The fourth drove the breath from her body, the fifth seared her tender flesh like a liquid flame.

  The sixth and seventh melted together. A warmth she dimly realized was blood trickled down her back.

  The eighth blow fell like lightning across her shoulders. Bright colors danced inside her head. The ninth blow took the strength from her legs, so that she sagged weakly against the post, held upright only by her bound hands. As from far away, she heard a strangled cry and knew, somehow, that it had come from Iron Wing.

  The last blow spread waves of agony through her lacerated flesh, and from there to every part of her body until it seemed like every inch of her skin was on fire. She could not know that Iron Wing had stayed the power of his arm so that the blows did not fall with the full force of his strength, could not know that each blow that sliced into her flesh sliced through his heart as well. She knew only that the pain was worse than anything she had ever known, and she hated him as never before.

  Merciful darkness swirled around Katy, but she struggled to remain conscious, determined to walk away from the whipping post under her own power.

  Iron Wing was beside her before the last crack of the whip had died away. Drawing his knife, he cut her hands free and caught her to him, careful not to touch her mutilated flesh.

  “Let me go,” Katy whispered hoarsely. “I want to walk by myself.”

  Admiration gleamed in Iron Wing’s black eyes as he stepped away from Katy.

  Lifting her head high, Katy threw a defiant glance at the watching Indians, then, with her shoulders back and her chin up, she walked proudly to Iron Wing’s lodge.

  He found her there moments later, lying unconscious across the doorway, and a wordless cry of pain rose in his throat. Why did she continue to defy him? Why did she force him to punish her, first by running away, and then by attempting to free the prisoners?

  As gently as a mother tending a loved child, Iron Wing carried Katy to his bed and placed her upon the robes. After putting a kettle of water over the fire to warm, he removed her dress and gently washed the blood from her back and shoulders. When the water in the kettle was hot, he dropped a handful of healing herbs into the pot. Soaking a cloth in the medicated water, he laid it carefully over Katy’s torn flesh. A pungent odor filled the lodge as Iron Wing replaced the cooling poultice with a warm one.

  Katy whimpered piteously as the warm cloth was placed over her back and shoulders. Her cry was like a knife twisting in Iron Wing’s heart. If only it was his back that was torn and bleeding. He had so many scars, a few more would hardly be noticed.

  Iron Wing stayed by Katy’s side all that night, changing the healing poultices, sponging the sweat from her brow when the fever came, replacing the blankets when she pushed them away.

  The warrior’s dark, brooding eyes rarely left Katy’s face. Even unconscious and racked by pain and fever, she was beautiful. Time and again he reached out to caress her cheek, or touch the silken mass of her hair. When had he first started to love her? Never mind that he had vowed long ago never to risk his heart again. Now, kneeling at Katy’s side, he admitted for the first time that he loved her deeply. He admired her stubbornness, her valiant fighting spirit, her refusal to be totally humbled by him.

  He nursed her day and night, never leaving her side except to relieve himself, or to gather firewood or fresh water. He ate little, and slept even less, afraid she might need him in the middle of the night.

  “Never again,” he vowed as he sat by her side. Never again would he do anything to hurt Katy. He would leave his people, leave the country he loved, before he would cause her a moment’s harm or pain.

  Yellow Flower came daily to sit with Katy, but Iron Wing sent the Indian woman away, not wanting anyone else to care for Katy.

  The morning of the third day, Katy woke clear-eyed and ravenous, causing Iron Wing’s heart to soar with relief.

  Helping Katy to sit up, Iron Wing fed her a bowl of clear broth, helped her into a clean dress, gently combed her hair. Katy accepted Iron Wing’s help because she was too weak and too sore to care for herself, but she would not meet his eyes, and she would not speak to him. If he had let her go home as she wished, as she had begged so often, she would not now be helpless and racked with pain. It was all his fault, and she would never forgive him for shaming her before the entire tribe, or for the cruel whipping that would undoubtedly leave her back scarred for life. She had never known such intense pain. Even now, just lifting her arm to wipe a lock of hair from her cheek made her back throb.

  Iron Wing endured Katy’s stony silence patiently. He continued to care for her, anticipating her wants, attending to her needs. He acquired special herbs and ointments from Sun Dreamer and applied them twice daily to Katy’s back and shoulders, pleased to see that the medicine man’s secret concoction did indeed speed the healing process and reduce scarring.

  Gradually, Katy’s strength returned until she was able to care for herself without help. The first morning she was able to go to the river for water, she felt all the women’s eyes follow her and she lifted her chin a little higher. Let them stare! She had done nothing to be ashamed of. It was the Cheyenne who should be ashamed. They were all godless barbarians.

  Katy had been at the river only a few minutes when Yellow Flower took a place beside her.

  “I am happy to see you are feeling better,” the Cheyenne girl said, smiling fondly at Katy. “Iron Wing was very worried about you.”

  “Was he?” Katy asked coolly.

  “Of course. He would allow no one else to care for your wounds. He would not even permit Sun Dreamer into the lodge to see you.”

  “I don’t wish to speak of Iron Wing,” Katy stated flatly. “It’s all his fault that I was punished in the first place. He is a cruel man, and I hate him.”

  Yellow Flower looked askance at her friend. “His fault? It was you who disobeyed the law of our people.”

  “I am not Cheyenne,” Katy argued stubbornly. “It is not my law.”

  “You are the woman of a warrior. He is bound by the laws of our tribe. It hurt him deeply to whip you.”

  “It didn’t do me any good either,” Katy retorted sarcastically.

  “Your wounds have nearly healed,” Yellow Flower said patiently. “The scars will fade, and you will forget the humiliation. But Iron Wing’s pain will always be with him.”

  “Iron Wing’s pain!” Katy snapped. “What are you talking about?”

  “Surely you have seen the way his eyes follow you. Can you not see that he cares for you deeply?”

  “He has a strange way of showing it,” Katy said caustically. “Among my people, a man protects his woman. He does not beat her.”

&
nbsp; Yellow Flower shook her head sadly, troubled by the unforgiving bitterness in Katy’s eyes. Iron Wing believed that, in time, Katy would adjust to the Cheyenne way of life, but Yellow Flower was not so sure. Katy had learned many of the Cheyenne ways. She spoke the language almost as well as Iron Wing, but her heart was still white. For Iron Wing’s sake, Yellow Flower hoped Katy would learn to think like a Cheyenne.

  “I must go,” Yellow Flower said, lifting her waterskin from the river. “Tall Buffalo does not like to wait too long for his breakfast.”

  Katy watched her friend walk away. She had not meant to hurt Yellow Flower’s feelings with her harsh words, but she could find no forgiveness in her heart for the man who had whipped her, or for the people who had stood by, watching.

  Another week passed, and still Katy refused to speak to Iron Wing. He had willingly humored her, hoping she would come to realize that he had done what he had to do. Surely she knew he would not deliberately set out to hurt her. Had he not cared for her as tenderly as a man could?

  In an effort to please her, he went hunting and brought her back a beautiful, unblemished doeskin. Katy took the hide from him as though it were a loathsome thing and tossed it into the fire.

  He traded one of his fine paint mares for a rich red blanket. She cut it into pieces and used it for rags.

  He went for a lonely walk and brought her back a bouquet of flowers, ignoring the laughter of the other warriors. She threw them away.

  Putting aside his anger, Iron Wing offered her a fine bay mare. Katy gave the animal to Bull Calf. It was the final insult.

  Katy was stirring a pot of soup when Iron Wing stormed into the lodge. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he spun her around to face him.

  “Why did you give the mare away?” he demanded, shaking Katy much as an angry terrier shakes a mouse.

  “I want nothing from you!” Katy lashed out in fury. “Nothing but my freedom!”

  “You are my woman…”

  “I hate those words!” Katy screamed, stamping her foot. “I am not your woman. I will never be your woman!”

  Iron Wing’s ebony eyes narrowed ominously as, with one strong hand, he ripped the dress from Katy’s body, then stepped purposefully out of his deerskin clout.

  “No!” Katy hissed through clenched teeth. “I will not!”

  Iron Wing did not waste time arguing with her. Grabbing a handful of her long black hair in one hand, he dragged Katy to his bed. With the ease of a cat, he stretched out on the rich brown robes, forcing Katy down beside him. Flipping her onto her back, he mounted her and took her with a fierce intensity that left Katy weak and trembling and softly moaning his name.

  With a shuddering sigh, Iron Wing raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at her.

  “I say you are my woman,” he whispered, a challenge rising in his fathomless black eyes. “Do you dare deny it?”

  Iron Wing watched Katy’s face as he waited for her answer. He knew she enjoyed his lovemaking, though she would never admit it. Her body willingly responded to his touch, eagerly giving and receiving. She might shout that she hated him, that she despised his touch, but he knew it was a lie. It took only a few kisses and the touch of his hand to ignite her desire, and then she clung to him, her arms drawing him close, her body arching to meet his while she cried his name. Perhaps now, at last, she would admit that she belonged to him body and soul.

  Katy stared up at Iron Wing through the thick fringe of her lashes, her body awash with the sweat of their joining. He was arrogant, he was stubborn, he would never say he was sorry for whipping her publicly, but he did care for her. It was a hard thing to accept. It was harder still to admit she cared for him, that she only felt complete in his arms. But some streak of stubbornness deep in the core of her being refused to let Katy voice the words he waited to hear.

  “I do deny it,” she answered sharply, trying to push him away. “I’ll never belong to you, or to any savage.”

  With a wordless cry of frustration, Iron Wing began to caress Katy again, his dark eyes burning with mingled anger and desire as his mouth plundered hers. His hands stroked her naked flesh, searing her skin with a white heat, reawakening her spent passion until she cried his name and he claimed her once more.

  When Katy woke, it was midmorning and she was alone in the lodge. The place beside her was still warm, mute evidence that Iron Wing had risen only moments before, and she sighed contentedly as she rolled over onto her stomach. It was no wonder they had slept so long, she thought, amused. Incredible as it seemed, Iron Wing had made love to her the whole night long until they had fallen asleep, exhausted, in each other’s arms.

  Katy grinned happily as she took a deep breath. The whole lodge was filled with the musky odor of their lovemaking. And it had been love. Iron Wing could call it hate, and she could scream that she would forever loathe and despise him, but what they had shared in the night was as far from hate as east is from west.

  Laughing aloud, Katy sat up, stretching luxuriously. She needed a bath badly, but first she would prepare Iron Wing a breakfast fit for a chief. Surely he was as hungry as she. Humming softly, she laid the fire and began to boil water for tea. Never had she felt so blissfully happy and content, so pleased with the whole world.

  Katy glanced up eagerly when Iron Wing entered the lodge. She knew her heart was shining in her eyes, but she didn’t care. At last, she had come to terms with her true feelings, and she was eager to share them with Iron Wing. But the warm greeting on her lips died as Iron Wing passed her without a word. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, his face closed against her, he began to hone the blade of his hunting knife.

  So that was how it was going to be, Katy thought dispiritedly. Nothing had changed. He was still the master, and she was still the slave, good only for cooking and cleaning and satisfying his animalistic lust. She had been a fool to think he cared for her, a fool to think him capable of any emotion as tender and civilized as love. How he would have laughed if she had bared her soul and told him she loved him!

  The atmosphere in the lodge fairly crackled with tension. Katy refused to meet Iron Wing’s eyes as she busied herself preparing the morning meal. When it was ready, she served Iron Wing, then sat in the rear of the lodge with her back toward him.

  Iron Wing ate quickly, tasting nothing. Once he had told Katy he did not need her love. Now, too late, he knew it had been a lie. Slowly, so slowly he had not even been aware of it, she had taken root in his heart. But he could not admit it to her, could not say the words aloud. His pride, the fierce indomitable pride of a warrior, had been badly wounded when Quiet Water rejected his proposal of marriage. He could not risk rejection a second time.

  Without a word, he put his bowl aside and walked out of the lodge.

  Katy blinked back her tears as she washed the dishes and straightened the bed. Taking a piece of soap, she stepped outside, her eyes darting from side to side, but Iron Wing was nowhere in sight.

  Nodding to Tall Buffalo and Yellow Flower, Katy made her way to a secluded spot to relieve herself, then walked upriver, seeking a sheltered place to bathe. For once, she was oblivious to the beauty of her surroundings. The sight of a young fawn failed to bring a smile to her lips, the graceful soaring of a red-tailed hawk gave her no joy.

  Finding a suitable spot, she prepared to undress when she heard a splash. Tiptoeing through the tall yellow grass that grew in abundance near the river, she peered over a flat-topped boulder to see Iron Wing swimming smoothly and effortlessly in the middle of the river.

  She studied the warrior from her vantage point, wondering if he excelled at everything he did. She knew he rode like a centaur, was one of the best hunters in the tribe, and was held in high esteem as a warrior. She felt her cheeks flush as she admitted he was also a wonderful lover. She continued to watch, unashamed, as he climbed out of the water and stood in the sun, letting the warm air bake him dry. A quick fire sparked in the core of her being as her eyes lovingly wandered over Iron Wing’s broad ches
t and narrow hips. His arms and legs were corded with muscle, his belly was hard and flat. He was quite the most handsome man she had ever seen, she mused, completely forgetting that she had once looked upon him with horror.

  Feeling her gaze, Iron Wing glanced up and saw Katy standing behind the rock. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Was she running away again, or merely seeking a place to wash away his touch? He wanted to call her, to ask her to join him, but decided against it. Every time he called to her, she refused him. And he was in no mood to argue.

  Katy felt her pulse quicken under Iron Wing’s probing gaze. Stifling the urge to run to his arms and declare her love, she walked slowly down the gentle incline that led to the water’s edge.

  “I came to bathe,” she explained coolly. “Is that all right with you?”

  Iron Wing nodded curtly, his face closed against her inquiring gaze. His silence irritated Katy. Ignoring him, she stepped out of her dress and plunged into the icy water.

  Iron Wing stretched out on the grassy bank, watching Katy through half-closed eyes. Her thick black hair gleamed wetly around her small shoulders, shining blue-black in the late morning sunshine, making a perfect frame for a perfect face. Did she know what she was doing to him, he wondered idly. Had she chosen this place to bathe just to torment him, to flaunt the slim golden body he desired above all others, but could never possess except by force? She was his woman, deny it though she might. He owned her body and soul, but it was her stubborn heart he yearned to conquer. And that he knew he would never do. She hated him. She had told him so again and again. Only in the privacy of his lodge did she accept him as a man, unable to withstand the smoldering desires of her own flesh.

  With a sigh, Iron Wing rose to his feet, his eyes still on Katy. Her swimming had improved, and he watched her with a growing sense of pride as she propelled herself smoothly through the clear water. How very beautiful she was, and how he ached to hold her in his arms.

  Iron Wing felt his heart beat faster as Katy stepped gracefully from the river, shaking the water from her hair. The sun caressed her damp golden flesh, and he groaned softly, filled with the bittersweet pain of wanting her.