The air was clear, the sunshine burning.
A spotted eagle soaring majestically overhead sent shivers down her spine because of its loveliness.
She had witnessed many marvels of nature on this long and tiring three-month journey from Saint Louis, a distance of two thousand miles. From Saint Louis they had passed one continuous prairie, with the exception of a few of the luxuriant forests along the banks of the river and the streams falling into it. There she had seen deer, antelope, bison, and various types of birds whose magnificent colors had stolen her breath away.
Now and then she had gasped when she saw a butterfly sweeping overhead, soon blown by the incessant wind away from her.
This had always reminded her of why she was taking this trek to the Montana Territory, yet deep down inside herself, where her dreams and desires were formed, she knew that the true reason was to follow the calling of her dreams.
She could not help but hope to find her destiny.
Soon the riverboat was docked and its large walking plank swung around and positioned securely onto the rocky beach that was only a few feet from the towering palisade that protected Fort Chance, a very substantial fort three hundred feet square which housed an American Fur Company post.
Very quickly, almost before she could catch her breath, Jolena was catapulted into the hubbub of unloading from the riverboat, the several other scientists in her party scrambling to get to shore with her and leave their "sea legs" behind them.
Jolena, her arms piled high with valises stuffed with her research materials and journals, clumsily made her way through the throng of people.
Their horses left behind inside the fort walls, Spotted Eagle and Two Ridges stood a few feet from the riverbank, curiously watching the people unload the boat. Spotted Eagle's attention was drawn to one lady in particular, whose waist-length, flowing black hair made his eyebrows lift, thinking that such hair did not seem appropriate for a white woman. Sweet Dove's hair had been as long and as blackblacker than charcoal. He did not see how a white woman could have the hair of a Blackfoot woman! He continued watching her, his eyes narrowing when a white man stepped to her side and began relieving her of her burden. He thought this man must be her brother, for he looked too young to be anyone's husband.
Yet this young man had hair the color of wheat, nothing like the woman's.
Spotted Eagle's interest peaking, something compelled him to continue watching the woman until finally her face was revealed to him and he saw that she was not a white woman at all, but had the coloring and features of an Indian.
And that was not all!
A choking sensation grabbed at his insides, and he stood in leather-faced silence, struck numb by the resemblance between this woman and Sweet Dove!
Memories rushed over him, remembering anew when he was a boy obsessed with an older woman.
It was as though he was a young boy again, taken by the same lovely faceSweet Dove's!
It was strange to see such an Indian woman mingling with the white people, dressed like them, as though one of them!
He could not help but continue to stare at her, his heart pounding in his ears as the excitement built within him.
This woman radiated such a natural, enchanting beauty. There was a look of keen intelligence in her dark eyes. Her face was expressive of strong passions lying just beneath the surface. Again he could not help but make the comparison with Sweet Doveher eyes browner than the bark of the tallest fir trees, her long and flowing hair down her slim back blacker than charcoal, her exquisite, perfect facial features on a copper skin such as his own.
His palms were sweaty. His throat was dry, as he came to the only possible conclusion.
This must be the long-lost child of his beloved Sweet Dove!
It had to be!
Her every feature spoke to him of Sweet Dove!
Sighing with relief that the burden had been removed from her aching arms, Jolena smiled up at Kirk. "Thank you so much for rescuing me," she said, laughing softly. "I'm not sure I could have moved another inch. I surely would have dropped the valises for everyone else to trip over."
"I've come on this expedition to look after you, sis," Kirk said, "and by damn, I will. Just let some man look at you crosswise and he'll have me to answer to."
Jolena glanced down at his holstered pistol, hoping that didn't give him too much confidence. He was not a man of action. He had been a man of books too long to be able to change into someone who was that skilled in guns to speak out when perhaps he should be listening.
She feared for her brother more than for herself in this strange, even forbidding land.
As she was walking at a fast clip toward the fort, trying to keep up with Kirk, Jolena's foot- steps faltered. She felt almost certain she was being watched. She could feel the heat of someone's eyes branding her.
Pausing for a moment as Kirk kept walking ahead of her, Jolena slowly turned around. Growing pale, her eyes widened and her knees grew weak when her searching gaze stopped on the Indian warrior who was staring back at her from the darkest eyes imaginable.
She covered her mouth with a hand, gasping. The more she stared back at him, the more she was aware that this was not just any Indian.
This was the Blackfoot warrior of her midnight dreams!
This Indian was as tall and straight. His features were as regular, his eyes midnight dark, large, and well set. His nose was moderate in size, straight and thin, his chest splendidly developed. His long black hair hung free of braids and ornaments. His cheeks were well-pronounced, and he was wearing a neat suit of buckskin with fringes on the sleeves, across the shoulders, and down his trouser legs.
The front of his shirt was decorated beautifully with the embroidery of porcupine quills, matching the band at his head that held his hair in place.
Jolena's heart raced, now understanding why some called the noble Indians knights of the prairie, mountains and forests. Never would she find anyone else as handsome and as intriguing as this Indian.
She blinked her eyes and swallowed hard. How could she have possibly dreamed of this man whom she had never seen before?
As in her dream, this warrior was wearing a necklace of distinction. Could he be the son of a powerful chief?
Jolena was stunned and uneasy by the way he was staring at her, as though he was seeing a ghost!
Her head reeled with the feeling that she too was seeing a ghosta fantasy that had frequented her midnight dreams. She was glad when Kirk stopped and turned, discovering that she was no longer walking with him, and came back to her, whisking her away with him with just the command in his eyes.
''Why were you looking at that Indian like that?" Kirk said ac�
�cusingly, leaning close to Jolena so that no one else would hear. "It's playing a dangerous game, Jolena, allowing yourself to get caught up in make-believe about Indians."
Jolena scarcely heard what Kirk was saying and scarcely noticed that he was actually scolding her. "Kirk, do you know if that Indian is Blackfoot?" she asked, again giving the handsome warrior a look across her shoulder, her heart throbbing again when she discovered that he was still watching her.
"Never you mind about that," Kirk said, his voice drawn. "I suspect you'll find out soon enough, though. If I'm right, he's one of the Indian guides that will be traveling with our expedition."
When Kirk turned his eyes back to the Indian, Jolena followed his gaze and then felt somewhat faint at a new discovery! This Indian was wearing black moccasins! He was Blackfoot! The man of her dreams! How could this be? How?
When she felt another set of eyes on her, Jolena shifted her gaze and stared back at the slighter, younger Indian who was standing next to the handsome one. A shiver ran through her when he continued to stare at her, a strange sort of glint in his eyes.
"Kirk, is that other Indian one of the guides, also?" she asked, wrenching her eyes around.
"I'm sure of it," Kirk said, then pursed his lips tightly together, realizing exactly why he was needed in defense of his sister.
Her skin coloring. Her dark hair and eyes. All of those things were drawing too much attention her way from the Indians. They were surely seeing that she was most certainly not of the white community, except in her dress and relationships.
If they knew that she was of this region, therein lay the true danger!
Two Ridges could not keep his eyes from watching Jolena as she walked hurriedly toward the entrance of the fort. He had been quickly taken by her loveliness and knew that Spotted Eagle was as taken as he.
And why wouldn't he be?
This woman with the skin of an Indian and the clothes of white people was a woman of mystery! Two Ridges would know more of her, soon! Forgotten was the young maiden of his village whom he'd been courting. Moon Flower could not compare to this mysterious beauty.
Suddenly his mind was made up.
He would take this woman as his wife before Spotted Eagle had the chance.
And he most definitely would not let Spotted Eagle know of his sudden infatuation with the copper princess. The danger in that was that friends could easily become enemies over a woman. And Two Ridges meant to have this woman, no matter the cost.
Chapter Five
As Kirk and Jolena walked through the wide, opened gate of the fort, a heavy-set man with a loud, throaty voice came lumbering toward them. "Welcome to Fort Chance," Ralph McMillan said as he stopped and extended a hand toward Kirk, than laughed and dropped his hand to his side when he realized that Kirk was too burdened for greetings. "Here. Let my clerks, Steven and John, give you a hand."
"Gladly," Kirk said, laughing softly as the two young men dressed in suits of black fustian with brass buttons began taking the valises from him. "Thank you. Your assistance is greatly appreciated."
Now that Kirk's hands were free, Ralph McMillan extended his hand once again toward him. "One of your scientific friends, who arrived at the fort from the riverboat before you, pointed you out as the main reason this voyage has been made to Montana Territory," he said, shaking Kirk's hand eagerly as he looked from Kirk to Jolena, then back again at Kirk. "Your father was here many years ago. I heard about his attempts to find the elusive butterfly. You've come to capture it to take back to him for his collection, I assume?"
"And for his memoirs," Jolena interjected softly, her gaze taking in this short, compact man with bowed legs, whose age appeared to be perhaps forty. He was dressed well in a suit of blue broadcloth with brass buttons, and his long brown hair was neatly combed and hanging down to his shoulders. She had been told that he was a kind-hearted and high-minded Scotsman, in charge of all of the fur company business in this region, clear to the Rocky Mountains.
"He is presently writing a book," she quickly added. "I would like the ending to say that he has the Euphaedra among his collection. My brother and I hope to make this possible. Our father is not well. A strange sort of paralysis has claimed not only his dignity, but also the use of his legs, or he would be on this journey instead of his children."
Ralph dropped his hands to his sides, then clasped them behind him. "That is a fine thing you do for your father," he said, his eyes roaming over Jolena, realizing that she was, indeed, Indian instead of white, yet, he was too polite to question her or her brother about it.
Ralph's gaze was drawn to Spotted Eagle and Two Ridges as they strolled toward the wide gate of the fort, then raised a hand and shouted at them. " Ok-yi, come!" he said. "I will introduce you to those who are in charge of the expedition!"
Jolena's eyebrows rose, wondering who he was addressing, then her insides trembled knowing that it must be the handsome Indian, for he and his companion were the only two Indians present today at the fort.
Her pulse racing, her cheeks hot with an excited, anxious flush, she turned and found herself looking squarely up into the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, which quickly mesmerized her, as the handsome Indian stopped only an arm's length from her.
"Let me make introductions," Ralph said, stepping in front of Jolena, momentarily blocking her view of the Indian, then moving to the Indian's side, placing a fond arm around his shoulders. "This, my friends, is one of the most skilled guides of the region. You are in the proud company of Spotted Eagle, whose father is Chief Gray Bear. His companion is Two Ridges, the son of Brown Elk. They will guide you through the wilderness and also protect you from the marauding Cree."
Ralph turned to Spotted Eagle and Two Ridges. "My special friends, my I introduce you to Jolena and Kirk Edmonds, who make their residence in Saint Louis, Missouri," he said, gesturing toward Jolena and Kirk. "They are on a mission of the heart," he explained. "They have come to search for and find the elusive butterfly that you, Spotted Eagle, have spotted. They wish to take their knowledge of it and specimens back to their ailing father."
Spotted Eagle had not taken his eyes off Jolena, unnerving her. It was as though he was looking deeply within her soul, perhaps trying to pull from within her the answers to the questions that his eyes were asking.
She had to wonder why. Did she resemble someone he knew?
Or was it because he was instantly attracted to her, as she was to him?
If he only knew that she had met him before, in her midnight dreams, then he would have cause to stare at her!
She could not wrench her own eyes away, having loved him before ever having met him face to face!
This was confusing to her, these feelings for a man who was, in tr
uth, a complete stranger to her.
And he was not just any man. He was an Indian.
In Saint Louis she had seen few Indians. They had mostly kept to the riverfront, where they traded with people of the city. She had never ventured there herself, her father having forbidden it.
"You come to this land for your father's benefit?" Spotted Eagle said, finally breaking the silence between them, which had begun to be strained. "His name is?"
"Bryce," Jolena said, her voice slight and filled with awe. "Bryce Edmonds."
"He is Indian in coloring?" Spotted Eagle could not help but ask. "He is Indian, yet has taken on a white man's name, the same as you?"
Kirk's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, not liking where this conversation was leading. " Our father is quite white, thank you," he said stiffly. He placed a hand to Jolena's elbow and whisked her away, walking her briskly away from the questions and introductions.
Savage Illusions Page 5
