As they neared White Owl’s tepee, he finally slowed his steps and stopped. He turned to look at Rose. His dark gaze was a window to his thoughts, and she was sure his torment was equal to her own. She closed her eyes for an instant and drew in a heavy breath. Before she could speak, White Owl pulled her up against his chest. She heard his heavy sigh whisper through her hair.
“I’m sorry, Wild Rose. Soon my people are going to fight with yours, and there is no way to stop it.”
Rose felt a strangling fear rise up to her throat. She stepped back. “No!” The pain in his expression was obvious, but he could not offer her any comfort. “Please—no,” she repeated.
“If you want to leave here—to return to your family—I will understand.” His voice was low and raspy. “It will rip my heart out, but I will understand.”
His words pushed all other thoughts from her mind. “I want to be with you forever,” she said. “But my family . . .” She shook her head again, but could not clear away the image of her family being slaughtered if there should be a war.
White Owl tenderly pushed a stray curl back from her forehead. “Only the whites at the fort are in danger—because of Meeker. He is threatening to plow up our racetrack and kill our ponies. He says we have too many, but there is no such thing as too many ponies.”
“Why? Why would he do that? Your horses and the track are such an important part of your lives.”
“He does not understand our people. He thinks that we could be happy tending to crops all day, and he wants us to forget that we have been hunters since the beginning of time.” He smiled tenderly and added, “Do not worry, my Wild Rose, your family is far away from the agency. They will be safe.”
Rose exhaled heavily and tried to force a small smile. “I’ll just hope that everything settles down and there is no war. I don’t understand why we all can’t live together in this beautiful country peacefully.”
White Owl pulled her close and hugged her tightly. “That is just one of the many reasons I love you. If all whites could have a heart as kind as yours there would be no wars between our people.”
She snuggled up against him as he held her in his arms. She wished she could put into words all the reasons she loved him. He represented everything that she wanted in a man. His passion for his people and this wondrous land; his kind and understanding nature; and most of all, their common belief that it did not matter whether someone was white or Indian. They were all human beings.
The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly interrupted their tender moment. Two Feathers said something in the Ute language that Rose did not understand. He looked only at White Owl as he spoke.
White Owl nodded, but did not say anything back to his younger brother. As Two Feathers turned and stalked away, White Owl glanced back down at Rose.
“My father wants to talk to me,” he said.
Rose nodded, but she desperately wanted to ask about Two Feathers’ hostile behavior toward her. She held her questions for now, however, because she didn’t want to anger Strong Elk by making him wait for White Owl. As they made their way back to Strong Elk’s tepee, Rose could not help worrying about Two Feathers’ attitude. She would have to work extra hard to befriend him, since it was obvious that he did not approve of this marriage. Marriage!
That one word erased all Rose’s previous worries. It still didn’t seem real to her without an actual ceremony, but since the Utes were considered married just by sleeping with the one they chose, then she and White Owl were definitely married. She felt her cheeks grow hot just with the thought of their passionate nights over the past few weeks.
She was still lost to those sensual memories when they arrived at Strong Elk’s lodge. The thought that she was now officially married to White Owl and was going to spend every night in his arms was overruling all other thought.
“Come, sit here with me,” Sage said to Rose, patting the ground next to her. Spread out in front of her was a beautiful piece of material that had diagonal stripes every color in the rainbow.
As Rose sat next to the woman, Shy Girl rushed over to sit next to her. “Maiku,” she said as a broad smile curved her lips. “Hello.”
“Maiku to you,” Rose returned. She thought she might as well start learning the language, even if it did seem that everyone she had met so far spoke English. She glanced up and saw White Owl and his father walking away from the group. They were speaking low, and she was not able to hear their conversation. Rose swallowed hard.
“I am making new skirt,” Sage announced. She used a knife to cut through the material as expertly as most people used a pair of scissors.
“It is lovely material,” Rose answered as she forced her attention away from White Owl and his father. They had disappeared from view. Obviously, they did not want anyone else to hear their conversation. A sharp pain shot through Rose’s breast.
“You should make it for Wild Rose,” Shy Girl suggested.
“Oh,” Rose gasped as she realized what Shy Girl had just said. “No, I couldn’t. I mean, that is such a nice thought, Shy Girl, but much too generous.” She reached out and squeezed the girl’s hand affectionately, adding, “She should make something for you. That material is beautiful, just like you.”
The young girl blushed, and as she glanced down toward the ground, a huge smile curved her full lips.
Rose glanced up and met Sage’s gaze. They exchanged smiles but not words. A sense of belonging settled in Rose, until she thought of her own mother. Thinking of what she was probably going through made Rose feel sick to her stomach. She could only pray that her father would not take out his rage on the rest of her family.
Rose tried to focus on the task Sage was doing, because she could feel the threat of tears in her eyes. The guilt of running away was overwhelming, but she did not regret what she’d done.
If she had stayed, she would be leaving for Denver right now. She would be leaving White Owl. That was not an option. As she choked down the heavy lump in her throat and wiped angrily at the unwanted tears, a gentle hand was placed on her arm.
“You sad?” Sage asked in a worried tone.
Rose attempted a feeble smile. “Not sad to be here. But my mother, she will be so worried about me. I hope she will forgive me someday.”
Sage put down the knife she had been cutting the material with and scooted closer to Rose. She put a comforting arm around Rose’s shoulders. “When she sees you so happy with White Owl, she forgive,” Sage said softly.
Rose nodded and wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Yes—you’re right—she will, but my father, he-he—,” Rose could not even begin to think about her father’s reactions.
Sage hugged her tighter. “Fathers are scared for their girls. Someday he understand.”
“I hope you’re right.” Her father’s furious face flashed before her eyes, and his hate-filled words about the Utes flooded her mind. Fear clutched at her insides. She could not fathom that he would ever understand the path that she had chosen for her life.
She realized that Shy Girl was on her other side and was rubbing her back in a sympathetic gesture. A worried frown drew her lips down, and her thick dark brows were drawn closely together as if she was feeling Rose’s pain. Rose reached over and patted the younger girl’s arm as their gazes met briefly. The maturity that she saw in the girl’s solemn gaze surprised her.
“Would you like to try?” Sage said to change the subject. She held the knife out for Rose and motioned toward the material. “I think Shy Girl would like a new skirt.”
Just as Rose took the knife from Sage, an angry female voice rang out from the tepee. Rose jumped at the sound, although she could not understand what Cloud Woman was saying because she spoke in Ute. Shy Girl, however, appeared to be the person she was addressing. The younger girl jumped to her feet at once and walked quickly into the tepee.
“Is she in trouble for talking to me?” Rose asked. It was becoming obvious that not everyone was happy to have her her
e.
Sage shrugged but did not have time to answer. White Owl and his father were walking toward them, and White Owl’s full attention was focused on his bride. Rose’s gaze met his twinkling dark eyes at once; he looked more than a little excited about something.
“Are you ready to begin your life as my wife?” he asked as one side of his mouth lifted in a suggestive smirk.
“I-I thought we already had—” Rose clamped her mouth shut as she felt a scorching blaze race through her entire body and ignite a fire in her cheeks. Had she really said that in front of his parents? Her mortification intensified when she saw the way White Owl’s brows raised up in surprise. His smirk immediately became a full-fledged smile.
“Our wedding trip will make it legal.”
“Oh, good,” Rose replied. Her voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper. She could not bring herself to look at Sage or at Strong Elk. Even though the Ute culture was obviously drastically different from what she was accustomed to, talking about intimate activities that she and White Owl engaged in was not something she wanted to divulge.
“Let’s go now,” White Owl added. His voice sounded excited and anxious. “I’ll grab your bag and our bedding.” He disappeared into the tepee.
Even though she could still feel the blush burning in her face, Rose forced herself to look at Sage as she handed the knife back to her. To her amazement, the older woman was smiling proudly at the tepee where her oldest son had just disappeared through the hide flap. Sage looked back at Rose as she took the knife and added, “My heart soars because you make my son so happy.”
A timid grin touched Rose’s lips. “Thank you.” She didn’t have time to say anything else because White Owl was emerging from the tepee with her leather satchel and an armful of other supplies and furs.
“She makes me happier than you know,” he replied to his mother. His expression was tender and his dark eyes sincere as he gazed back toward Rose.
A tremor of excitement raced through her as she rose to stand beside her husband. She hoped this feeling would never go away.
White Owl waved at his mother as he began to lead Rose away.
Rose glanced back at Sage. “Good-bye . . . and thank you for your kindness.” The other woman’s face lit up with happiness as she waved good-bye to Rose. A tender smile rested on her lips. Rose thought about her own mother again. When they returned from their trip, she would go back long enough to apologize to her for the way she had left. But until then, she did not intend to allow any sad thoughts to intrude on the joy that she was feeling as the wife of her handsome Ute warrior.
As they made their way to the edge of the village where Molly and Niwaa waited for them, Rose felt many eyes focused in their direction. She concentrated on staring straight ahead and keeping up with White Owl’s long strides. He seemed completely unaffected by the attention they were attracting, and if possible, he seemed even more anxious than she was to begin their honeymoon—or wedding trip, as he referred to it.
When they reached the horses, Rose was surprised to see that Molly stood saddled and ready next to Niwaa.
“I was getting the ponies ready while you were getting to know my mother,” he said with a smug smile. He placed her bag over the back of her saddle and then went to secure the supplies and blankets he had brought behind his saddle.
When he was finished organizing the large load, White Owl grasped her around the waist, effortlessly lifted her up onto Molly’s back, and handed her the reins without saying a word. He appeared so eager, Rose began to wonder just what a Ute wedding trip entailed. There was absolutely no way the passion they already shared could improve, was there? A powerful shiver shook her body. She grasped the reins tighter and glanced at White Owl. He was watching her curiously. A grin curved his mouth, and he nodded his head as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Rose drew in a sharp breath and gently kicked Molly in the sides to urge her forward.
Rose giggled. “You sure wasted no time in arranging this trip. Are we in a hurry or something?”
He shrugged. “Do you have something you’d rather be doing?” One dark brow lifted in a curious arch above his right eye.
Rose’s mind went blank, and the now familiar ache started turning her insides to a mass of yearnings. She could barely manage to shake her head.
A grin claimed White Owl’s mouth again. His chest puffed out slightly, and he strode to his horse and swung up on its back in one graceful bound. Rose swallowed hard. She hoped their destination was not very far.
Chapter Sixteen
After the first hours that they had traveled, Rose could not help being disappointed. Instead of riding through the lush pines and aspens that surrounded the Ute lands and Milk Creek, they headed straight north into country that was miles and miles of nothing more than sagebrush and small rolling hills. She had envisioned them spending their wedding trip at some mountain hideout surrounded by trees and deep blue lakes. Now, it seemed, they were headed directly for the desert.
Since Rose had no intention of questioning White Owl about their destination, she tried to focus on looking around the barren countryside, and before long, she began to realize that it represented a different kind of beauty than the mountainous regions offered. The end of summer, and the long drought, had turned most of the surrounding landscape to shades of brown and tan, with a few scattered patches of green foliage on an occasional bush here and there. But it was the distant vista that was breathtaking. Rose drank in the views of the faraway mountains bathed in a misty blue hue from the azure sky. The various peaks were sharp in some areas and rounded in others, forming a majestic skyline; they appeared almost mystical and unreal. They seemed another world away, but they appeared to be riding toward them.
Since the afternoon had grown hot, and riding was uncomfortable, Rose was grateful when White Owl suggested that they rest until it cooled down. “How much farther?” she asked as they spread a woven blanket in the shade of an old gnarled oak tree.
“We should be there in two days’ time.”
“Two days!” Rose retorted. “Why are we going so far?”
“I am taking you to a place that is very special to me.”
“Oh,” Rose answered quietly. His voice had sounded strange, almost as if she had hurt his feelings. “If it is special to you, then I know I will love it,” she added.
He had lowered himself to the ground and was reclining on his side. When he patted the spot next to him on the blanket, Rose did not wait for another invitation. She settled against his body as comfortably as if he was merely an extension of her. With her head resting on his bare chest, Rose’s fingers traced the taut muscles of his stomach and chest. She heard him sigh softly and then felt his lips tenderly kiss the top of her head. She let her eyes close as he gently ran his fingers through her hair. The sense of peace she felt in his arms washed over her immediately, and combined with the heat of the day, drowsiness overpowered the passion she had been feeling a moment earlier.
Rose opened her eyes slowly when she felt a large hand shaking her gently.
“Beautiful,” White Owl whispered as she focused on his face hovering above her.
“What’s beautiful?” she asked in a groggy voice.
“My new wife.”
“That sounds so”—Rose sighed—“nice.” It still did not seem possible that she was actually married to a Ute warrior, but in her mind, he was only the man that she loved, and nothing else mattered.
“We should try to ride farther now that the sun is not so hot,” White Owl said. He glanced up at the sun, hanging low on the western horizon.
Rose sat up and rubbed her eyes. “It’s already late. Maybe we should just stay here tonight.” She intentionally raised one brow in a suggestive arch like he always did to her—a gesture that did not go unnoticed.
White Owl shook his head as a teasing smile curved his mouth. “Could it be that my wife enjoys lying with me? Most Ute women usually act like it is their obligation.”
; Rose quickly wiped the smile from her face. A heated sensation rushed through her face. He must think that she was insatiable. When his roar of laughter broke in to her moment of embarrassment, anger began to join the rest of her raging emotions.
“That is not a bad thing, Wild Rose!” He smacked his hand against his chest, adding, “I am proud to know that I make my wife happy.”
Rose scooted closer to him and replaced her pout with another smile. “You should be a very, very proud man then, if that is the case.” She rose up to his lips with a tender kiss.
White Owl leaned back on his heels and sighed. “We need to go now.”
Rose let out a disappointed groan. “What is the hurry? We have the rest of our lives together.” A strange expression passed across White Owl’s face. “What is it?” she asked, alarmed.
A smile replaced his strange look. “Nothing, except I’m just eager to show you my special place.” He rose to his feet and pulled Rose up with him, but he made no attempt to explain further. He wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the horses.
Rose studied his face as he readied the animals for riding, but he gave no hint of the odd expression she had noticed a few seconds earlier. One thing she was certain of, however, he was determined to get to their destination as quickly as possible.
They continued toward the mountains and did not stop until the land was bathed in complete darkness. They spread their bedrolls under a sprawling clump of cedars and snuggled together to ward off the slight chill of the night. Since they were both too tired to do much more than kiss good night, they slept through the night until the faint glow of the rising sun woke them. Before they continued on their journey, they made slow, passionate love, relishing in the realization that they no longer had to sneak around in the barn at Rose’s parents’ ranch or worry about being overheard by the villagers at White Owl’s camp. Their desire had no limitations now.
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