Savage Illusions

Savage Illusions Page 38

by Cassie Edwards

  "Even Two Rid­ges' son," Jole­na sa­id stiffly. "He plays with my son of­ten."

  Kirk lo­oked down at the child at Jole­na's si­de. "Yo­ur son?" he sa­id, his eyes wa­ve­ring when he saw the li­ke­ness of the child to Spot­ted Eag­le.

  "He's a han­d­so­me boy," Kirk for­ced him­self to say, his re­sen­t­ment to­ward Spot­ted Eag­le no less to­day than fi­ve ye­ars be­fo­re. He still tho­ught that had it not be­en for Spot­ted Eag­le, Jole­na wo­uld not ha­ve felt such a strong ne­ed to stay with the Blac­k­fo­ot.

  "His na­me is Yel­low Eag­le," Jole­na sa­id, pus­hing her son to­ward Kirk. "Yel­low Eag­le, This is yo­ur Un­c­le Kirk."

  Yellow Eag­le sta­red up at Kirk for a mo­ment, then smi­led. "I al­re­ady know you," he sa­id. "My mot­her has tal­ked of you of­ten."

  Kirk's eyes lit up. "She has?" he sa­id, then sud­denly swept Yel­low Eag­le in­to his arms.

  Yellow Eag­le to­ok to Kirk qu­ickly. He swung an arm aro­und his neck. "How long are you sta­ying?" he sa­id, his eyes wi­de as he ga­zed with sud­den af­fec­ti­on at his only un­c­le. "We can ri­de hor­ses to­get­her. Wo­uld you li­ke that?" "I wo­uld li­ke that very much," Kirk sa­id, gi­ving Jole­na a qu­ick smi­le.

  Then his smi­le fa­ded. "But I won't be he­re long," he sa­id, a tin­ge of sad­ness in his vo­ice. "I'm with so­me le­pi­dop­te­rists who ha­ve co­me to find that elu­si­ve but­terfly. This ti­me I damn well plan to find it."

  "Elusive?" Yel­low Eag­le sa­id, ra­ising an eyeb­row.

  "The but­terfly cal­led the eup­ha­ed­ra," Kirk sa­id, gi­ving Jole­na a kno­wing lo­ok.

  "I ha­ve se­en it of­ten," Yel­low Eag­le sa­id in­no­cently, shrug­ging his sho­ul­ders. "Mot­her has al­so se­en it. We ha­ve wat­c­hed it flut­ter among the wild flo­wers of our co­untry. It is be­a­uti­ful with its tur­qu­o­ise, black and oran­ge co­lors. You want to see it, al­so?"

  Jolena wat­c­hed Kirk's ex­p­res­si­on, kno­wing that he must be as­to­un­ded that she had not ca­ught the but­terfly. And she was not go­ing to al­low an­yo­ne to catch it, even if it ca­used anot­her fa­mily fe­ud with her brot­her!

  "Yes, it's be­en sig­h­ted of­ten," she mur­mu­red. "But it's go­ne aga­in, Kirk. You may as well tell yo­ur fri­ends they ha­ve co­me for na­ught."

  She lo­oked an­xi­o­usly at Yel­low Eag­le, who was gi­ving her a puz­zled sta­re. She ho­ped that he wo­uldn't blurt out the truth, that the but­ter­f­li­es we­re just now be­gin­ning to crawl from the­ir co­co­ons in the fo­rest.

  "Sis, do you me­an that it has mig­ra­ted back to So­uth Ame­ri­ca?" Kirk sa­id, sig­hing he­avily. "Damn." "Exactly," Jole­na sa­id, her eyes in­no­cently wi­de.

  "Well, then, I gu­ess we'll he­ad back for Fort Chan­ce to­mor­row," Kirk sa­id. "At le­ast it's gi­ven us a chan­ce to catch ot­her spe­ci­es of but­ter­f­li­es."

  "Yes, at le­ast," Jole­na sa­id, clut­c­hing her fat­her's bo­ok to her bo­som.

  "Can you ma­ke ro­om for one mo­re per­son in yo­ur te­pee to­night, Sis?" Kirk sa­id softly.

  "We ha­ve plenty of blan­kets," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, an­s­we­ring for Jole­na. He pla­ced a hand on Kirk's sho­ul­der. "You are wel­co­me, whi­te brot­her. Al­ways wel­co­me."

  Kirk's eyes wa­ve­red as he lo­oked at Spot­ted Eag­le, fe­eling gu­ilty for still re­sen­ting him, yet kno­wing that he wo­uld ne­ver fe­el any dif­fe­rent.

  " Ok- yi. Co­me," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, mo­ti­oning with a wa­ve of a hand to­ward the en­t­ran­ce flap that Jole­na was ra­ising. "We will sha­re a smo­ke and fo­od to­night. To­mor­row my war­ri­ors will see you sa­fely back to Fort Chan­ce."

  Jolena cast a smi­le of thanks at her hus­band. He smi­led back kno­wingly.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Having go­ne to a high but­te with Spot­ted Eag­le to watch Kirk un­til he was lost from sight, Jole­na shi­el­ded her eyes from the bright rays of the sun as she pe­ered in­to the dis­tan­ce. Her brot­her was still in vi­ew, mo­ving ste­adily on­ward thro­ugh a me­adow dot­ted with wild flo­wers of var­ying co­lors and sha­pes. The fo­rest was just be­yond.

  Spotted Eag­le sto­od at Jole­na's si­de. She ga­ve him a warm smi­le as he slip­ped his arm aro­und her wa­ist, then on­ce aga­in she ga­zed ahe­ad, di­sap­po­in­ted when Kirk ro­de in­to the sha­dows of the fo­rest and di­sap­pe­ared.

  "I wish that he co­uld ha­ve sta­yed lon­ger," Jole­na mur­mu­red, le­aning in­to Spot­ted Eag­le's em­b­ra­ce. "Yo­ur brot­her was he­re long eno­ugh for yo­ur hus­band and brot­her to ma­ke pe­ace," Spot­ted Eag­le sa­id, tur­ning her to fa­ce him. "That is the im­por­tant thing."

  "Yes it is," Jole­na sa­id, re­ac­hing a hand to Spot­ted Eag­le's che­ek, re­ve­ling anew in his han­d­so­me­ness. "And was he not ta­ken with his nep­hew? Yel­low Eag­le most cer­ta­inly li­ked his un­c­le. Why, Spot­ted Eag­le, he even cri­ed when Kirk ro­de away. Hardly ever do­es Yel­low Eag­le al­low an­yo­ne to see him cry. He thinks it is so­met­hing only girls do."

  Spotted Eag­le chuc­k­led and put his hands on eit­her si­de of her fa­ce, fra­ming it with them. He drew her lips clo­se. "My wi­fe, is not li­fe go­od to us now?" he sa­id as he brus­hed a soft kiss ac­ross her lips. "Are you as happy as this hus­band who holds you in his arms?"

  "Yes," Jole­na whis­pe­red, fe­eling glad that cat­c­hing the elu­si­ve but­terfly was no lon­ger im­por­tant to her.

  There we­re many mo­re im­por­tant things in her li­fe now­her hus­band, her son, and her be­lo­ved Blac­k­fo­ot fat­her!

  Jolena eased her lips from Spot­ted Eag­le's. "Let's go ho­me," she mur­mu­red, wan­ting to be the­re to bask in the­se things that ma­de her hap­pi­er than she had ever be­en in her li­fe.

  Arm in arm, they ma­de the­ir way down the ste­ep hil­lsi­de, then wal­ked to­ward the­ir vil­la­ge. Jole­na smi­led to her­self. She had not yet told Spot­ted Eag­le the most won­d­ro­us of new­s­t­hat she tho­ught she might be with child aga­in. She had al­re­ady dre­amed that it wo­uld be a girl child.

  Giving Spot­ted Eag­le a half glan­ce, she gently pla­ced a hand over her tummy, en­vi­si­oning a da­ug­h­ter for her to sha­re things that sons wo­uld not sha­re with the­ir mot­hers!

  "Spotted Eag­le, I ha­ve so­met­hing to tell you," Jole­na sa­id, thin­king this was a per­fect ti­me to tell her hus­band of the­ir se­cond child.

  Spotted Eag­le smi­led down at her. "I too ha­ve had a spe­ci­al dre­am," he sa­id, his eyes twin­k­ling in­to hers. "And, Fawn, it will be a girl child."

  Jolena ga­zed up at him in won­der, then la­ug­hed hap­pily as he swung her up in­to his arms and car­ri­ed her the rest of the way to the vil­la­ge.

  Behind them, on a tree limb, the dre­aded nympha­lid, the but­terfly that por­ten­ded de­ath, flew out of its pu­pa, drop­ping its red li­qu­id that re­sem­b­led blo­od from the air. The nympha­lid flut­te­red abo­ut, trying its new wings.

  Then it flew away, high abo­ve the hills, away from the Blac­k­fo­ot vil­la­ge.

  Dear Re­ader:

  I ho­pe you ha­ve enj­oyed re­ading Sa­va­ge Il­lu­si­on. To con­ti­nue my ''Sa­va­ge Se­ri­es," in which it is my en­de­avor to wri­te abo­ut every ma­j­or In­di­an tri­be in Ame­ri­ca, my next bo­ok will be Sa­va­ge Em­bers, writ­ten abo­ut the Ara­pa­ho In­di­ans. This bo­ok will be fil­led with much ex­ci­te­ment, ad­ven­tu­re, ro­man­ce and sus­pen­se! I ho­pe you will buy Sa­va­ge Em­bers and enj­oy it! It sho­uld be re­le­ased six months from the re­le­ase da­te of Sa­va­ge Il­lu­si­on.

  I lo­ve to he­ar from my re­aders. I res­pond, per­so­nal­ly, to every let­ter. For my new­s­let­ter, ple­ase send a le­gal-si­ze, self-ad­dres­sed, stam­ped en�
�ve­lo­pe.

  Warmly,

  CASSIE EDWARDS

  R# Box

  Mattoon, IL

 

 

 

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