Savage Illusions

by Cassie Edwards

  "I co­uld not do it," she sa­id, te­ars stre­aming down her che­eks. "I lo­ved him too much to de­ce­ive him. I… told him abo­ut the child. He… tur­ned his eyes away from me and did not lo­ok back. He al­so ba­nis­hed me from his li­fe."

  Jolena was not cer­ta­in how she felt abo­ut Kirk ha­ving do­ne this to Mo­on Flo­wer, but she knew for cer­ta­in how she felt abo­ut Mo­on Flo­wer­s­he ad­mi­red her for her bra­very and ho­nesty!

  From the be­gin­ning, af­ter ha­ving be­co­me ac­qu­a­in­ted with Mo­on Flo­wer, Jole­na wo­uld ne­ver ha­ve tho­ught her ca­pab­le of car­rying out such a de­ce­it.

  And she had be­en right!

  Tears rus­hing from her eyes, and kno­wing how de­vas­ta­ted Mo­on Flo­wer must be fe­eling, Jole­na went to her and drew her in­to her em­b­ra­ce. "I'm sorry," she whis­pe­red as the lo­vely, slight ma­iden clung to her, sob­bing. "I'm sorry my brot­her co­uldn't ac­cept both you and the child. I un­der­s­tand how you are fe­eling, and I want to be yo­ur fri­end."

  Spotted Eag­le wat­c­hed the emo­ti­onal sce­ne with much lo­ve in his he­art for his wo­man. He went to her and drew both her and Mo­on Flo­wer in­to his arms.

  Moon Flo­wer enj­oyed the clo­se­ness of her spe­ci­al fri­ends for a mo­ment lon­ger, then bro­ke away and went to Brown Elk. She ga­zed humbly up at him. "You will still ha­ve me in yo­ur dwel­ling?" she as­ked, her vo­ice bre­aking.

  "As long as you wish to be he­re," Brown Elk sa­id, then drew her in­to his arms. "My lit­tle Blac­k­fo­ot prin­cess, you and yo­ur child will fill my dwel­ling with much hap­pi­ness. That will be go­od for an old man li­ke Brown Elk."

  Jolena and Spot­ted Eag­le crept from the te­pee. When they got out­si­de, Spot­ted Eag­le swung Jole­na aro­und in­to his arms. He crus­hed his lips to hers and kis­sed her pas­si­ona­tely, then swept her in­to his arms and be­gan car­rying her to­ward the­ir te­pee.

  "Kirk? Did Kirk tre­at her ter­ribly?" Jole­na as­ked, as she pe­ered up at Spot­ted Eag­le.

  "He sa­id not­hing to her af­ter she told him," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id. "He just mo­un­ted his hor­se and ro­de away. I sta­yed be­hind with her, to re­turn her sa­fely ho­me. The ot­her war­ri­ors went on with yo­ur brot­her."

  Jolena sig­hed. "Well, at le­ast the truth is out," she mur­mu­red. "Had Mo­on Flo­wer wa­ited, it co­uld ha­ve be­en tra­gic for them bot­hand al­so the child."

  Spotted Eag­le car­ri­ed Jole­na in­to the­ir te­pee and la­id her down on a pal­let of furs be­si­de the fi­re. Hur­ri­edly, they un­d­res­sed each ot­her. Spot­ted Eag­le knelt down over Jole­na and brus­hed a kiss ac­ross each of her bre­asts, then mo­ved his lips lo­wer.

  "Tonight," he sa­id bet­we­en kis­ses, "who ne­eds blan­kets?"

  He wor­s­hi­ped her flesh with his lips and ton­gue, then mo­ved over her and fil­led her with his thick shaft. He held her hands abo­ve her he­ad as he be­gan his stro­kes wit­hin her, his mo­uth co­ve­ring her lips with anot­her fi­ery kiss.

  Jolena co­uld fe­el the pas­si­on ri­sing in her. She lif­ted her legs and loc­ked them aro­und his wa­ist, al­lo­wing him to mo­ve mo­re de­eply in­to her.

  "I lo­ve you so," she whis­pe­red, as he slid his lips away from her mo­uth and mo­ved them lo­wer, whe­re he co­uld flick his ton­gue over her nip­ples. She stra­ined her bre­asts up­ward, suc­king in a wild bre­ath of ple­asu­re when he pla­ced his mo­uth fully over one of them, suc­king, lic­king, bi­ting.

  Spotted Eag­le be­gan mo­ving his hands over Jole­na, fin­ding and ca­res­sing her every sen­si­ti­ve pla­ce un­til she was tos­sing her he­ad back and forth, writ­hing from the rap­tu­re.

  Then the ex­p­lo­si­on of the­ir pas­si­on erup­ted. They clung and roc­ked and sig­hed.

  Afterwards, they lay to­get­her, Jole­na's leg dra­ped over Spot­ted Eag­le's thigh.

  "Tomorrow you will be shown what is re­qu­ired of the Blac­k­fo­ot wo­man be­fo­re she be­co­mes a wi­fe," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, smi­ling down at her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Spotted Eag­le had eaten his mor­ning me­al of co­oked sar­vis ber­ri­es wit­ho­ut sa­ying a word, ma­king Jole­na mo­re an­xi­o­us than ever. She had a hun­d­red qu­es­ti­ons to ask abo­ut the mar­ri­age ce­re­mony, and he had cho­sen to be un­com­mu­ni­ca­ti­ve. She was so ex­ci­ted that her li­fe was fi­nal­ly tur­ning in­to so­met­hing swe­et and pe­ace­ful, per­haps even nor­mal­how co­uld she not want to ma­ke su­re that she did ever­y­t­hing right at the wed­ding?

  Picking at the ber­ri­es in her wo­oden bowl, she kept gi­ving Spot­ted Eag­le har­ri­ed glan­ces but did not dis­turb him, for he se­emed to be lost in de­ep tho­ught abo­ut so­met­hing.

  Then she jum­ped with alarm when he set his bowl asi­de and ro­se to his fe­et. He be­gan wal­king to­ward the do­or, still wit­ho­ut sa­ying an­y­t­hing to her. She wan­ted to go af­ter him but ref­ra­ined from do­ing so.

  When he left the te­pee, Jole­na scam­pe­red to her fe­et, went to the en­t­ran­ce flap and slowly sho­ved it asi­de. Scar­cely bre­at­hing, she wat­c­hed Spot­ted Eag­le walk thro­ugh the vil­la­ge and then en­ter her fat­her's dwel­ling.

  ''Why did he go the­re and not ask me to go with him?" Jole­na whis­pe­red to her­self, hurt that even in this way he was le­aving her out this mor­ning.

  Her eyes wi­de­ned when Mo­on Flo­wer step­ped from Jole­na's fat­her's te­pee and he­aded to­ward Spot­ted Eag­le's. When she got in­si­de the te­pee, Jole­na ga­ve her a warm hug, then to­ok her hand and led her down on soft mats by the fi­re.

  "I know that I sho­uld of­fer you fo­od, but I'm so an­xi­o­us to ask you abo­ut Spot­ted Eag­le's stran­ge be­ha­vi­or that I wish to dis­cuss that with you first," Jole­na sa­id in a rush of words.

  She mo­ved to her kne­es and fa­ced Mo­on Flo­wer who was sit­ting calmly. In her eyes the­re was a mis­c­hi­evo­us, merry glint.

  "Well?" Jole­na prod­ded. "Why is Spot­ted Eag­le in my fat­her's te­pee? He told me not­hin­gj­ust left and went di­rectly to my fat­her's dwel­ling."

  "You truly do not know, do you?" Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id, gig­gling be­hind her hand as she ga­zed in­to Jole­na's an­xi­o­us eyes. "You do not know the ac­ti­ons ta­ken by a war­ri­or when he wis­hes a Blac­k­fo­ot wo­man's hand in mar­ri­age?"

  Jolena's he­art skip­ped an an­xi­o­us be­at, and she co­uld fe­el a flush warm her che­eks. "That… is why he went to my fat­her's te­pee?" she mur­mu­red. "It's abo­ut our mar­ri­age?"

  "Yes," Mo­on Flo­wer mur­mu­red. "Ever­y­t­hing to­day is abo­ut yo­ur mar­ri­age. And sin­ce you ha­ve no Blac­k­fo­ot mot­her, I will ta­ke her pla­ce."

  "You will?" Jole­na sa­id, her eyes wi­de­ning. "You wo­uld do this for me?"

  "It is not only for you, but al­so Brown Elk," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id softly. "It is my way of sa­ying thank-you for his kin­d­ness to Mo­on Flo­we­rand yo­urs."

  Guilt mo­men­ta­rily tug­ged at Jole­na's he­art for ha­ving do­ub­ted Mo­on Flo­wer's ho­nesty for a short whi­le. But wrap­ped up in the ex­ci­te­ment of the day, she cast the­se fe­elings asi­de and al­lo­wed her­self to fe­el won­der­ful over fi­nal­ly re­ali­zing her plans to marry the man she lo­ved. The­re was no do­ubt what­so­ever in her he­art over her de­ci­si­on to stay in the Blac­k­fo­ot vil­la­ge, to be one of them.

  Everything lo­oked so bright.

  The fu­tu­re lo­oked so pro­mi­sing.

  How co­uld she fe­el an­y­t­hing but bles­sed?

  Euphoric, she lis­te­ned raptly as Mo­on Flo­wer be­gan ex­p­la­ining what must be do­ne to pre­pa­re her for her wed­ding day to­mor­row.

  "First, Jole­na, you must mo­ve in­to yo­ur fat­her's lod­ge," Mo�
�on Flo­wer sa­id, softly fol­ding her arms ac­ross her bre­asts.

  Jolena blus­hed, ho­ping no one, es­pe­ci­al­ly her Blac­k­fo­ot fat­her, saw her as sha­me­ful for ha­ving spent her nights with Spot­ted Eag­le.

  But she knew that Spot­ted Eag­le wo­uldn't ha­ve en­co­ura­ged it had he tho­ught that it wo­uld da­ma­ge her re­pu­ta­ti­on in the eyes of his pe­op­le. She had ne­ver ta­ken the ti­me to worry abo­ut it, for de­ep in her he­art she had known that they wo­uld al­re­ady ha­ve be­en mar­ri­ed had the­re not be­en so many ob­s­tac­les in the way.

  In her he­art, mind, and so­ul she was al­re­ady his wo­man­his wi­fe.

  The ce­re­mony was ne­ces­sary only to for­ma­li­ze it.

  "I lo­ok for­ward to spen­ding this spe­ci­al ti­me with my fat­her," Jole­na fi­nal­ly sa­id.

  "While the­re, you will se­lect the cho­icest parts of the me­at from yo­ur fat­her's lod­ge," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id softly. "You will co­ok the­se things in the best style, and in the com­pany of Mo­on Flo­wer you will go to Spot­ted Eag­le's lod­ge and pla­ce the fo­od be­fo­re him. He will eat it. Then you will ta­ke the dis­hes, and we will re­turn to yo­ur fat­her's lod­ge. Ever­yo­ne in the vil­la­ge who se­es you car­rying the fo­od in a co­ve­red dish to Spot­ted Eag­le's lod­ge will know that a mar­ri­age is to ta­ke pla­ce."

  "And then what el­se do I do?" Jole­na as­ked an­xi­o­usly, thril­ling in­si­de to ac­tu­al­ly be tal­king abo­ut her mar­ri­age to Spot­ted Eag­le. That ma­de it so very re­al! Not­hing wo­uld stop it now. The­re was only to­day, to­night, and then to­mor­row it was to hap­pen!

  She was so ex­ci­ted, she co­uld hardly sit still any lon­ger. But she knew that she must lis­ten to all of Mo­on Flo­wer's te­ac­hings to­day. The­se we­re per­haps the most im­por­tant les­sons of all as she tur­ned her­self over to the Blac­k­fo­ot way of li­fe.

  "If yo­ur mot­her we­re ali­ve, she wo­uld ma­ke you a new lod­ge, com­p­le­te with new po­les," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id. Her vo­ice was fil­led with com­pas­si­on as she re­mem­be­red lis­te­ning to her own mot­her tell the ta­le of Swe­et Do­ve and how she had di­ed gi­ving birth to a child that no one had ever fo­und. It se­emed a mi­rac­le that he­re be­fo­re Mo­on Flo­wer sat this child who was now a wo­man.

  How won­der­ful it wo­uld ha­ve be­en if Swe­et Do­ve co­uld ha­ve li­ved to see her da­ug­h­ter mol­ded in­to so­me­one as be­a­uti­ful and swe­et as Jole­na, and to see the man she was to marry! No mot­her co­uld ha­ve be­en mo­re pro­ud. She wo­uld ha­ve ma­de the cow­hi­de lod­ge with eager, happy fin­gers, as her he­art sang and her eyes dan­ced.

  "And sin­ce she is not ali­ve?" Jole­na mur­mu­red. "Who then ma­kes the lod­ge for me?"

  "Your fat­her ap­po­in­ted one of the wo­men of the vil­la­ge many days ago to ma­ke the lod­ge," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id, smi­ling at Jole­na. "It is a han­d­so­me one that you will be ple­ased to erect in the midst of the vil­la­ge for all to see. It will be a lod­ge yo­ur fat­her will be ple­ased with as his dowry is pla­ced the­re."

  "My fat­her's… dowry?" Jole­na sa­id, gas­ping softly. "Wha­te­ver might it be?"

  "It is not for Mo­on Flo­wer to say," Mo­on Flo­wer sa­id, la­ug­hing softly.

  Spotted Eag­le sat op­po­si­te the fi­re from Brown Elk, sta­ring ac­ross the fla­mes at his fu­tu­re fat­her-in-law, fe­eling hum­b­le in the pre­sen­ce of such a gre­at and ho­no­rab­le el­der as he.

  Brown Elk ro­se and bro­ught his be­a­uti­ful­ly de­co­ra­ted pi­pe with its long stem over to Spot- ted Eag­le and han­ded it to him, to par­ta­ke of a smo­ke with him.

  Brown Elk wa­ited un­til Spot­ted Eag­le was blo­wing smo­ke from his mo­uth, then to­ok the pi­pe back and aga­in sat down be­fo­re the fi­re op­po­si­te his fu­tu­re nis-ah­son-in-law.

  "You ha­ve co­me to spe­ak of my da­ug­h­ter?" Brown Elk sa­id, cros­sing his legs at his an­k­les and res­ting the bowl of his pi­pe on one of his kne­es.

  "That is so," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, nod­ding.

  "The ti­me is go­od for a mar­ri­age," Brown Elk sa­id, smi­ling at Spot­ted Eag­le. "You will ma­ke a fi­ne son-in-law. I gladly gi­ve my da­ug­h­ter to you, even tho­ugh I ha­ve not had her long myself. I trust you will al­low this el­der to sha­re his da­ug­h­ter who will so­on be­co­me yo­ur wi­fe? I will be the first to know of the gro­wing of a child wit­hin my da­ug­h­ter's womb? I will be se­cond to you to hold my gran­d­c­hild on­ce it is born?"

  Brown Elk's eyes lo­we­red to ke­ep from re­ve­aling the sud­den sad­ness that was cre­eping in­to them. At this ti­me he co­uldn't help thin­king of his son.

  "This old man has known the joy of hol­ding only one in­fant to his bre­ast in his li­fe­ti­me," Brown Elk sa­id. "And he is go­ne from me now, as Jole­na was go­ne from me when she was sto­len by pe­op­le with the whi­te skins."

  Brown Elk lo­oked slowly up at Spot­ted Eag­le. "I lo­ok for­ward to hol­ding an in­fant aga­in next to my he­art," he sa­id. "Ma­ke ba­bi­es so­on, Spot­ted Eag­le, so this old man can watch the child grow so­me sum­mers be­fo­re wan­de­ring off to the Sand Hills to jo­in his an­ces­tors."

  "There will be sons and da­ug­h­ters so­on to fill yo­ur arms," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, smi­ling. "My wo­man­yo­ur da­ug­h­ter­will ma­ke be­a­uti­ful da­ug­h­ters and strong, co­ura­ge­o­us sons. You will be pro­ud, and yes, you will be drawn in­to the­ir li­ves and yo­ur da­ug­h­ter's and mi­ne as tho­ugh we we­re of one he­art and so­ul. My chil­d­ren will be bles­sed to ha­ve such a gran­d­fat­her as Brown Elk!"

  Brown Elk's eyes dan­ced as he le­aned clo­ser to Spot­ted Eag­le. "Jole­na will so­on erect her lod­ge in the cen­ter of the vil­la­ge. The­re I will pla­ce her dowry, for yo­ur ta­king. I ho­pe what I cho­ose for this dowry will be ade­qu­ate to show my ad­mi­ra­ti­on for the man my da­ug­h­ter is to marry!"

  "Having yo­ur da­ug­h­ter as my wi­fe is dowry eno­ugh for this man," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, chuc­k­ling low. He ro­se to his fe­et and went aro­und the fi­re and em­b­ra­ced Brown Elk as he ro­se and sto­od be­fo­re him.

  "It will be go­od to ha­ve two fat­hers," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, step­ping back from Brown Elk. "I fe­ar that my true fat­her's sum­mers are les­se­ning much too qu­ickly. He may not see his first gran­d­c­hild. That sad­dens me."

  "Do not bring such sad­ness in­to yo­ur he­art un­til it hap­pens and you are for­ced to ac­cept it," Brown Elk sa­id. "Che­rish the ti­me now with him, so that when he pas­ses to the ot­her si­de you will not be as he­art sick over the loss."

  "That I will do," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, then nod- ded a si­lent fa­re­well. He went to the en­t­ran­ce flap and ra­ised it, only to find him­self pe­ering down in­to the eyes of his be­lo­ved.

  Jolena blus­hed and lo­we­red her eyes, fe­eling aw­k­ward at this mo­ment be­ca­use of what was ta­king pla­ce bet­we­en her and Spot­ted Eag­le. For the first ti­me in her li­fe that she co­uld re­call, she was ac­tu­al­ly fe­eling bas­h­ful! She sa­id not­hing, nor did he, and she slip­ped past him in­to the te­pee, la­ug­hing softly as she tur­ned a won­de­ring lo­ok at Mo­on Flo­wer.

  "This is such fun," she sa­id, clas­ping her hands be­fo­re her. "I sud­denly fe­el mo­re li­ke a child than a wo­man pre­pa­ring for mar­ri­age. It all se­ems so sec­re­ti­ve. It ma­kes it all se­em sos­pe­ci­al, so­me­how."

  "It is go­od to see yo­ur eyes shi­ning and to he­ar the ex­ci­te­ment in yo­ur vo­ice," Brown Elk sa­id, go­ing to Jole­na.

  He drew her in­to his arms and held her to him. "My da­ug­h­ter," he sa­id fondly. "Do you know how go­od it is to hold you? For so long this was de­ni­ed me!"

  "I, too, enj­oy be­ing h
eld by you," Jole­na mur­mu­red, clin­ging to him. "You are ever­y­t­hing I wo­uld ever want in a fat­her."

  Brown Elk step­ped away from her and knelt down be­fo­re a trunk that he was slowly un­co­ve­ring by lif­ting one blan­ket and then anot­her away from it. "This fat­her has gifts for you from myself and yo­ur mot­her," he sa­id, his vo­ice drawn. He cast Jole­na a glan­ce and nod­ded for her to jo­in him at the trunk. " Ok-yi. Co­me. See. They are yo­urs to we­ar on yo­ur wed­ding day."

  Her pul­se ra­cing, an­xi­o­us to know what co­uld be in the trunk that co­uld be from her mot­her as well as her fat­her, Jole­na sat down on a thick cus­hi­on of pelts be­si­de Brown Elk. Her eyes we­re glu­ed to the lid of the trunk as her fat­her's trem­b­ling fin­gers be­gan ra­ising it.

  Her eyes wi­de­ned when she saw the be­a­uti­ful things in­si­de the trunk, la­id out so ca­re­ful­ly. The light of the fi­re ref­lec­ted on leg­gings ador­ned with many co­lor­ful be­ads and bells and brass but­tons. As her fat­her lif­ted the gar­ment from the trunk and la­id it on Jole­na's lap, she saw that it was ma­de of de­er­s­kin and was he­avily frin­ged, as well as be­a­uti­ful­ly de­co­ra­ted.