Feather in the Wind

by Madeline Baker

He glanced up at the sun. “About five hours.”

  She remembered the security of lying in his arms.

  He remembered wondering how he would live without her.

  She looked up, felt her gaze caught in his. His eyes were black, a warm beautiful black, like liquid velvet. She had the strangest feeling that she could dive into those eyes and lose herself forever.

  Mr. Sandman, send me a dream…

  Standing there, basking in the heat of his eyes, she knew that Black Wind was the embodiment of every dream she had ever had, every hope, every wish.

  She knew then that she had been in love with this man since that day she first saw his photograph. She had never believed in Fate or Kismet, but now she was thoroughly convinced that some Mystic power had sent her to the POW WOW, had guided her feet toward the booth where she had found the eagle feather that Black Wind wore in his hair.

  “Su-san-nah?”

  “Do you believe in karma?”

  “Kar-ma?”

  “You know, Destiny, Fate, Kismet?”

  “I believe you were meant to be mine.”

  Susannah nodded. “Me too. I believe we were fated to be together.” She smiled faintly. “I guess I must have been born in the wrong century, since I came here, to you.”

  “Will you stay, Su-san-nah?”

  “I want to.” The lack of modern conveniences didn’t seem as horrible as it once had. Her ancestors had managed to survive without microwaves and washing machines and been perfectly happy.

  If they could do it, so could she. Looking at Black Wind, feeling the love radiating from his eyes, she decided she wouldn’t trade what she had now for a mansion in Beverly Hills. She only hoped she would be able to stay, refused to consider that she could be whisked back to the twentieth century.

  She took one of his hands in hers and ran her fingertips over the bandage on his wrist. “What happened?”

  “They tied me up to keep me away from you.”

  “Oh Black Wind, what have I done? I’ve alienated you from your father, from your people. Will they take you back?”

  “It does not matter.”

  “Of course it does!”

  “Su-san-nah…” He put his arm around her waist and drew her up against him. “It does not matter,” he repeated firmly. “You are all I need. Will you be my woman, Su-san-nah? My wife?”

  “Yes.”

  The word slid easily past her lips. No doubts. No hesitation.

  Tate Sapa captured her hands in his, then took a step backward so he could see her face. “I will love you and protect you so long as I live.”

  Susannah gazed into his eyes, warmed by the love she saw there, by the sincerity in his voice. Birds chirped in the treetops. Sunlight bathed the canyon in a golden glow, and she knew she would remember this moment for as long as she lived.

  “And I will love you, Black Wind, and honor and cherish you so long as I live.”

  “Ohinniyan, wastelakapi.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Forever beloved.”

  With a sigh, she melted against him. “Ohinniyan, wastelakapi.”

  “Su-san-nah…”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Oh yes.”

  His kiss was as soft as dandelion down, warmer than a thousand suns. Without taking his lips from hers, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the waterfall.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming the sweet invasion of his tongue.

  He carried her effortlessly, and she gloried in his strength, in the fall of his hair over her hands, in the touch and the taste and the smell of him.

  She was breathless when he set her on her feet. Only then did she notice her surroundings. It was a fairy place. New grass made a soft green carpet beneath her feet. Wildflowers bloomed in bright profusion near the water’s edge. Slender cottonwoods and willows provided a leafy canopy. Shimmering rays of sunlight danced through the leaves, warming the grass, making the water sparkle.

  “Oh Black Wind, it’s so beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful, Su-san-nah, the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

  “Kiss me,” she moaned. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!”

  “Wiwasteka,” he murmured, and taking her in his arms, he drew her down to the ground, his body molding itself to hers, heat to heat and heart to heart.

  Time lost all meaning as he slowly undressed her. “Wiwasteka.”

  “You said that before. What does it mean?”

  “Beautiful woman.”

  “Am I? Black Wind, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  He looked at her expectantly and her gaze slid away from his. “I…” She bit down on her lower lip. “You see…I’m not…that is, you’re not the first…” There was no easy way to say it, yet she felt he had a right to know, and so she said it all in a rush, hoping it wouldn’t sound so bad. “I’m not a virgin.

  A muscle twitched in his jaw, and then he let out a long sigh. “It does not matter.”

  “I wish I were. I wish I’d never known anyone else.”

  “It does not matter, Su-san-nah. Nothing that happened before we met matters now.”

  Tears stung her eyes as he cupped her cheek in his palm. “You are my woman now, as you were meant to be.”

  She nodded, unable to speak, as he kissed her. And then he began to undress her, his hands gentle, almost reverent, as he caressed her out of her clothing. She was smooth and soft from head to foot, delicate, beautiful. Growing up, he had caught glimpses of young girls bathing in the river, but he had never seen a grown woman completely nude. Lakota mothers were zealous in guarding the chastity of their daughters.

  Tate Sapa had never been in love, had never made love to a woman. Now, as he gazed at Susannah, he knew he had never seen anything as lovely, that never before had he been given a gift as precious as the one before him.

  Susannah trembled with delight as his hands stroked her flesh. His hands were big, calloused from years of hard work, yet his touch was tender. He rained kisses on her face, her neck, lower, lower, until his mouth brushed her breast. He paused, looking up at her, and she dragged his head down, wanting him to touch her and taste her.

  She ran her hands over him, exploring every wonderful inch. His skin was the color of dark bronze, sun-warmed and smooth. His muscles rippled beneath her fingertips as she ran her hands over his arms and back.

  She seemed to be drowning in sensation, every nerve and fiber vibrantly alive, every sense attuned to the world around her—the grass beneath her, the feel of Black Wind’s body lying over hers, the heat of the sun on her face, the cool whisper of a soft summer breeze. His hair teased her breasts, his lips tantalized her, and his hands, oh, those wondrous hands—like a master musician, he knew which chords to pluck to make her hum with desire.

  “Now,” she whispered when the torment became more than she could bear. “Now, Tate.”

  “Su-san-nah…” Her name was a low groan on his lips as his body merged with hers.

  She arched up to meet him, her arms wrapping around his waist to hold him close, and in that moment, when they became one flesh, she knew a soul-deep regret that she had given her innocence to a man who hadn’t deserved it.

  But that was in the past, and there was no point in dwelling on it. She closed her eyes as Black Wind kissed her and kissed her until her head was spinning and she clung to him as the only solid thing in the world, the only thing that mattered.

  And she knew, knew, that heaven was smiling down on them. No matter how it had been accomplished, no matter by what means she had found her way to this place, she knew without a doubt that she had been born for this man and no other.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I did not hurt you?” Tate Sapa regarded her anxiously, his dark eyes tender with concern.

  “Hurt me? Oh no, you didn’t hurt me.”

  “It was over too quickly.”

  She couldn’t help grinning. True, it had been quick, but it had been incr
edible.

  “Su-san-nah…”

  She ran her hand through his hair. “What?”

  Propped on one elbow, Tate Sapa gazed down at her. How beautiful she was, with her skin flushed from his lovemaking and her soft brown eyes smiling up at him. “I have no words, no way to tell you…”

  Heart swelling with tenderness, Susannah brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “I know.” A soft sigh escaped her lips. “It was wonderful, wasn’t it?”

  “Wonderful,” he agreed, smiling. His hand cupped her cheek, then drifted down her neck to cup her breast. “Wonderful.”

  “I like you too.” With a seductive smile, she dragged her fingernails over his chest, down his flat belly.

  He sucked in a breath, desire kindling in his eyes. “Is it too soon to do it again?”

  Susannah slid a glance at his manhood. “Doesn’t look like it,” she remarked dryly. Laughter bubbled in her throat as a dark flush rose in Black Wind’s cheeks. “You’re blushing!”

  He grinned as he tucked her firmly beneath him. “You dare to laugh at me, woman?”

  “I’m not laughing at you,” she said, though she was nearly choking. “Honest.”

  Straddling her hips, he began to caress her. His gaze never left her face as his hands moved over her body, boldly stroking the secret places that made her come alive, until she was writhing beneath him, moaning with need.

  “You are not laughing now,” he murmured.

  She raked her nails over his inner thighs, caressed his chest, then cupped her hand around his neck and drew him down toward her.

  “Tell me,” he demanded softly.

  “I love you.”

  “Again.”

  “I love you.”

  With a groan, he covered her body with his, his face buried in the hollow of her shoulder, as her warmth enveloped him.

  * * * * *

  Later, they bathed in the pool, taking turns washing one another. She was surprised when he wanted her again and took her there, in the pool. It was wonderfully primal, sensual. She clung to him, her whole body quivering with desire, aware of the sunlight on her face, of his strong arms supporting her, of the water swirling around her legs as his life poured into her, filling her with liquid heat.

  For a time, they stood pressed together, the heat of their bodies warming the water.

  “I’m turning into a prune,” Susannah murmured, and when Black Wind looked perplexed, she held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “See? All wrinkled, like a prune.”

  “I do not know of prunes,” he replied with mock gravity, “but I do not want a wrinkled woman.” And so saying, he swung her into his arms and carried her out of the pool.

  Sometime later, Susannah washed her clothes, wishing, as she did so, that she had something else to wear. She was heartily sick of wearing a baggy shirt and men’s pants. She supposed, if worse came to worst, she could wear Hester’s nightgown. Instead, she donned Black Wind’s extra shirt, which fell past her knees, and they went for a walk in the woods. It was cool under the trees. The air was fragrant with the scent of earth and foliage. Birds darted among the branches, singing and scolding as they passed below. She saw a bushy-tailed gray squirrel and a chipmunk, several lizards. Tate Sapa pointed at a tree and she saw a fat raccoon peering at her through the leaves.

  Tate Sapa found some berry bushes, and they picked handfuls of plump berries, feeding them to each other until their mouths were stained purple and juice dripped from their chins. They picked wild onions and turnips for dinner. Tate Sapa set a snare for a rabbit, then fashioned a spear from a tree branch.

  Susannah sat in the shade while he stood on the edge of the stream, the spear poised. He stood there, unmoving, looking like a statue cast in bronze. Sunlight cast blue highlights in his hair. A spider-web of fine white scars marred the symmetry of his broad back and shoulders. Her stomach clenched as she thought of the beating he must have endured, the pain, the humiliation.

  There was a sudden blur of movement as he threw the spear. She clapped her hands as he lifted a fat trout from the water.

  My husband, the fisherman, she mused, and felt joy rise up from the very depths of her heart, bright and bubbly, like fine champagne on New Year’s Eve.

  This must have been how Adam and Eve felt in the Garden, she mused. Just the two of them, alone in paradise. She wondered what Eve had thought when she first saw Adam. Had she found him irresistible and exciting? Had his smile warmed the very deepest part of her being? Had his kisses made her pulse race and her heart beat like thunder? Had the prospect of being in his arms turned her insides to mush?

  Tate Sapa caught another fish, gutted the pair, strung them on a strip of rawhide, and left them soaking in the water.

  Susannah’s heartbeat increased as he walked toward her, his long legs quickly covering the short distance between them.

  Susannah stood up and stepped into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist. They had made love only a short time ago, but she wanted him again.

  He smiled when she told him so. “Can you not tell that I want you too?” he asked.

  She nodded, acutely aware of his growing desire. They had few clothes to dispose of. His clout. The shirt she was wearing.

  Murmuring her name, he swung her into his arms and carried her to their blankets. They made love leisurely this time, arousing each other, backing off, tasting and tempting, until Susannah thought she would burst with need. For a man who had never made love to a woman before, he had quickly discovered how to please her, how to take her to the very edge of bliss, until the pleasure was the most exquisite pain. And then he entered her, filling her with ecstasy. Light and heat exploded within her, making her feel as though she had somehow captured the sun.

  She lifted her hips, drawing him deeper, watching his face as his own release came. The sound of her name on his lips, his long shuddering sigh of satisfaction, pleased her beyond words.

  He collapsed on top of her, his heated breath fanning her neck. “Am I heavy?” he asked after a while.

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around him when he started to move. “But I like it.” Indeed, it was a wondrous weight. She could feel the beat of his heart, his every breath.

  Sated and happy, heart swelling with love and tenderness, she stroked his back and thought she would ask nothing more of life than to stay here, in this place, with this man, for as long as she lived.

  * * * * *

  Days passed, and Susannah’s love for Black Wind grew deeper, stronger, as did her respect and admiration for his ability to provide for them. They had fresh meat each night. He built a snug shelter and thatched the roof with tree branches. He taught her how to skin game and cook over an open fire, how to find the fruits and vegetables that grew wild in the canyon.

  He insisted she learn how to load and fire the rifle and the pistol, praising her lavishly whenever she managed to hit the target. She had never liked guns, didn’t relish the thought of taking a life, animal or human, but she could see the wisdom in her knowing how to use a gun. They were alone in the wilderness, after all, and the time might come when she would need to defend herself. She tried not to think of the wild animals that inhabited the canyon, the enemy tribes that could wander into their sanctuary, or the Army that might still be looking for them.

  After a great deal of trial and error, she fashioned an ankle-length tunic of buckskin. She made herself a pair of moccasins by using Black Wind’s for a pattern.

  Daily, they swam in the pool; in the evening, they took long walks, or sat side by side, enjoying the peace and beauty of the night.

  They made love often. Inside the shelter, beside the stream, in the cool depths of the placid pool, on top of a sun-warmed rock, under a canopy of twinkling stars. Always, he treated her with a tenderness that bordered on awe. It pleased her to know that she was the first woman he had ever loved, and she wished again that she had listened to her mother, that she had saved herself for the man she would spend her life with…


  Susannah frowned as she stirred the coals, then added wood to the fire. She had not thought about home in days. Her parents must be frantic with worry, her friends too. Her rent was overdue. It occurred to her that she could find herself back in her own time with no place to live.

  There was no point in dwelling on what could not be changed. For all she knew, she was here to stay.

  “Su-san-nah.”

  She looked up, smiling when she saw him walking toward her.

  “Riders are coming,” he said. He thrust the rifle into her hands. “Go into the woods. Stay there.”

  “Riders?” Susannah glanced toward the entrance to the canyon. “Who are they?”

  “They are too far away to tell. Do as I say.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “They will have seen the smoke from the fire. They know someone is here.”

  “So you’re just going to wait around until they get here?”

  “There is no other way out of the canyon. If we both hide, they will search until they have found us both.”

  “Black Wind…”

  “They will be here soon. Find a place to hide.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “Do not come out until I tell you it is safe.”

  “No, I want to stay with you.”

  “Do not argue with me, woman!”

  She bristled at his tone, but she couldn’t be angry, not when his eyes were filled with concern for her well-being.

  “Please, Su-san-nah,” he begged softly.

  “Oh all right. Promise me you’ll be careful. You won’t do anything stupid.”

  He arched one brow, as if the thought of his doing anything stupid was ludicrous. “I promise.”

  He kissed her quickly, then gave her a little nudge. “Go. Hurry.”

  Tate Sapa watched her run toward the trees, watched her until she was out of sight, then he turned back to their camp, checking to make sure there was nothing in evidence that indicated a woman had been there.

  He made sure the pistol was loaded, then placed it within easy reach.

  He saw the plume of rising dust before he saw the riders. Six of them, and his father riding at the head.

  Did his people want to destroy Susannah so badly they had sent warriors to find them?