Reckless Heart

by Madeline Baker

  “Hannah, perhaps if you gave Joshua another chance…?”

  “Joshua!” I exclaimed. “You must be kidding.”

  “He loves you. He would make you a fine husband.”

  “Never! If I can’t marry Shadow, I won’t marry at all!”

  “Has he asked you?”

  “No,” I admitted miserably. Mother had touched a sore spot that time. I had been waiting—hoping Shadow would propose, but he never did. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. Maybe he didn’t love me at all. He had never said so.

  Resolutely, I put such thoughts from my mind. He did love me. I knew he did. His eyes and his kisses could not lie.

  “I doubt if he will,” Mother said gently. “Shadow is a realist even if you are not. He knows it would never work.”

  “It would work, if everybody would just leave us alone.”

  “Hannah, marriage is hard enough when two people share the same background and the same beliefs. Without a common heritage, it’s almost sure to fail.”

  “Oh, leave me alone!” I cried petulantly, and ran from the room, blinded by my tears. Why couldn’t she understand how I felt? Distraught, I slammed my bedroom door and threw myself across my bed. Burying my face in my pillow, I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes swollen. And still the tears came, until, exhausted and discouraged, I fell asleep. Only to toss and turn all night long.

  I woke before dawn and left the house. Outside, the air was cold and clear and still. A thin blanket of sparkling frost covered the ground, and my breath came out in little clouds of white vapor.

  Nellie humped her back and flattened her ears when I laid the cold saddle pad in place, stubbornly refusing to budge when I climbed onto the saddle. Even my horse is against me, I thought angrily, and pounded her sides with my heels. Finally, with a soulful look at the cozy barn, she broke into a shambling trot.

  In spite of my heavy coat and wool scarf, I was shivering and my teeth were chattering when I reached the river crossing. Shadow was there, waiting for me, and I saw that he had spent the night beneath “our” tree, wrapped in a furry brown buffalo robe.

  “You have been crying,” he observed as I dismounted. “Was it bad after I left?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “Hannah, you are as easy to read as the stars in the sky,” he chided gently. “I told you it would be better if I stayed away.”

  “Please don’t scold me,” I begged. “I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  “You’re cold,” Shadow observed quietly. “Come, let me warm you.”

  And so saying, he spread my coat beneath our tree, sat me down beside him, and drew his buffalo robe around our shoulders. It was very cozy, bundled in the heavy robe, and I lifted my face for his kiss, desperately needing to feel the strength of his arms around me and feel the reassuring warmth of his lips on mine. As always, his touch left me breathless and yearning for more. But he held me away from him, and I raised troubled eyes to study his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked tremulously.

  “Hannah, you must persuade your father to leave the valley. There is going to be war, if not this year then the next.”

  “What has that to do with us?”

  “Everything. When my people fight, I must fight with them, and I do not want to fight you or your parents. I would not like to see any of you killed.”

  The thought that we might be killed had never entered my mind. War, and talk of war, had always seemed vague and far off, something that only happened to other people, in other parts of the country. Even when the Henrys had been burned out, it hadn’t affected me personally. No one had been hurt, and I didn’t know them anyway, not really. They were just a placid, middle-aged couple with three tow-headed kids who had come into the trading post now and then.

  “Maybe there won’t be any war,” I suggested hopefully. “And even if there is, surely your people won’t harm us. They never have before.”

  “This is not like before,” Shadow said gravely. “The buffalo hunters are killing the buffalo for their hides and leaving the meat to rot in the sun. My people cannot live without the buffalo. This summer, ten new families moved into the southern end of the valley. Soon there will be ten more, and then ten more. The hunters are bad enough, but the settlers are worse. They come with their families and their cattle and fence the land. We must stop them now, while we can.”

  We must stop them now, while we can. The words sent a shiver down my spine, and yet I knew what he meant. The valley was growing every day. Counting the ten new families Shadow had mentioned, there were now seventeen families in Bear Valley. We had a church now, and a school. Charlotte Brown, Paul’s mother, was a bona fide school teacher. Charlie Bailey, Lucinda’s father, was talking about building a hotel next year. And Frank Fitch was making plans to open a saloon, though there was some doubt that the ladies in the valley would allow it.

  Yes, we were growing. There was no doubt about it. I could understand why the Indians were concerned.

  Troubled, I glanced up at Shadow and found myself wondering, guiltily, if he had ridden with the Indians who had burned out the Henry family. Unable to help myself, I stared at the lone white eagle feather in Shadow’s hair and found myself wondering if the enemy he had killed to earn that feather had been red or white.

  “He was a Pawnee,” Shadow murmured, reading my thoughts, and I could not hide my relief.

  His dark eyes held mine for a long time before he said, quietly, “I think it would be better for both of us if we did not meet again. It will only lead to trouble and unhappiness for all concerned.”

  “Oh, you sound just like my mother!” I wailed unhappily.

  “She is a wise woman, Hannah. Perhaps you should listen to her advice.”

  “I wish I were an Indian girl,” I muttered sulkily, and Shadow granted me one of his rare smiles.

  “Things would certainly be less complicated,” he allowed.

  “How would you court me, if I were an Indian girl?” I asked. “Is it romantic?”

  “I suppose so,” he said with a shrug. “I never gave it much thought.”

  “Well, think about it,” I insisted. “Would you bring me flowers and take me picnicking in the woods?”

  “Not quite. When a Cheyenne warrior is interested in a girl, he makes himself a flute, usually in the shape of a bird. Sometimes he paints it with the likeness of a horse, because horses are believed to be ardent lovers and hard to resist. At night, the warrior plays his flute outside the girl’s lodge. The notes are sweet and low, and every flute has its own sound. Sometimes the warrior follows his girl to the river, or waits for her there, hoping to catch her alone.”

  “That sounds romantic,” I said, and smiled as I remembered that Shadow and I often met by a river, as we did now.

  “I suppose, but the warrior rarely manages to see his sweetheart alone. Indian mothers keep a close eye on their daughters, especially when they know some warrior is after them.”

  “How do you find time to be alone, then?”

  “In the evening, the maidens stand outside their lodges, each wrapped in a big red blanket. If a girl is interested in a particular warrior, she holds the blanket open when he walks by, inviting him to join her. When they are standing very close, the girl covers them both with the robe.”

  “That doesn’t sound very private,” I remarked skeptically.

  “It isn’t,” Shadow allowed. “But we have very few pregnant brides.”

  “Very funny,” I retorted, punching him on the arm. “Suppose they decide to get married. What then?”

  “The warrior’s father would send a go-between to speak to the girl’s family. If her family approves the match, the warrior leaves a number of horses outside the girl’s lodge, preferably stolen horses, not only as a token of his affection but to prove to her family that he can provide for a wife.”

  “Stolen horses!” I exclaimed. “How awful!”

  “Horse st
ealing is viewed a little differently among my people,” Shadow explained with a grin. “I know it is a hanging offense among the whites, but to the Tsi-tsi-tsis it is an art. It can be a lot of fun, too. Anyway, if the horses are accepted, the girl’s mother sets the date for the wedding.”

  “Does the bride wear white?”

  “Usually.”

  “Is there a big ceremony with music and dancing?”

  “No. On the day of the wedding, the bride is placed on a blanket and carried to the lodge of her future father-in-law and left there. Most couples live with the husband’s family until they collect enough skins for a lodge of their own.”

  “Hmmm… Shadow, if I were an Indian girl, would you bring my father horses?”

  “I would offer your father my entire herd,” Shadow replied solemnly. “But you are not an Indian girl, and I think your father would gladly see you dead before he would let you go away with me.”

  “Then I’ll run away!” I cried passionately.

  “No, Hannah.”

  I had known he would say that. Shadow was a proud and honorable man, and I knew he would not let me disobey my father nor take me away unless my father consented. And Pa would never consent.

  Still, Shadow wanted me. I knew he did, and the sliver of an idea started in my mind as I pressed myself shamelessly against him.

  “Why didn’t you go home last night?” I asked, caressing his cheek with my fingers.

  “Because I had a feeling you would need me this morning,” he answered ruefully.

  “You always seem to know what I’m thinking, or what I’m going to do,” I said, pouting a little. “It isn’t fair.”

  “I know what you’re thinking now, too,” Shadow remarked with a wry grin. “And it isn’t going to work.”

  “Don’t you want me?” I murmured. Boldly, I pressed my breasts against Shadow’s naked chest.

  “Hannah, listen to me…”

  “I love you,” I whispered as, pulling his head down, I kissed him—gently at first, then with greater intensity.

  I was not prepared for Shadow’s quick response. With a sudden rush of passion, he crushed me close, covering my face and neck with kisses that seared my skin.

  A quick flame of desire sparked in the deepest core of my being, and what had started as a game now turned abruptly serious. Shadow’s dark eyes burned with a fierce inner fire as he began to stroke my quivering flesh in places he had never dared touch before.

  My breathing grew rapid, and I began to tremble with delight and longing, confused by a jumbled tide of emotions I had never known or dreamed of.

  Shadow’s breathing was also erratic, and when I grasped the lithe muscles in his arms, I was surprised to find he, too, was trembling.

  Abruptly, he drew away. “No, Hannah,” he murmured in a ragged voice.

  “What’s wrong?” I cried, stung by his rejection. “You want me. I know you do!”

  He did not deny it, and I was suddenly drunk with the power I had over him. Taking his hand, I laid it over my fiercely beating heart.

  “I love you,” I whispered fervently. “I want to be your woman, your wife.”

  “Hannah, please,” he groaned. “I am not made of iron.”

  “Prove it,” I challenged, and pressed myself wantonly against him a second time.

  With an animal-like cry of defeat, Shadow wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me so tight I thought my ribs would break. His kisses, long and hard, were filled with passion and desire and I knew I had won. He would not turn back now.

  And then he was rising over me, and I gasped aloud at the visible sign of his aroused desire.

  I had never seen a naked man before, and a sudden fear cooled my passion so that I lay rigid beneath him.

  “No,” I said, trying to push him away. “No, don’t.”

  But it was too late, and I shivered uncontrollably as Shadow thrust into me. A sharp pain caused me to cry out, and Shadow groaned low in his throat as he shuddered to a halt.

  “You hurt me!” I accused. “No one ever told me it would hurt.”

  “It will never hurt again,” he promised, and then he was moving deep inside me, evoking sensations and feelings that I had never imagined.

  Once I opened my eyes, and I marveled that the earth had not changed, that the sky was still blue and the grass green, for it seemed as though the whole world should be enflamed with the glorious passion that forged Shadow’s flesh and mine into one being.

  With a sigh, I closed my eyes and drew Shadow closer, until there was nothing in all the world but the two of us, bound together by our love.

  I would have been content to lie in Shadow’s arms forever, and I dared not speak, for fear of breaking the magical spell between us.

  Shadow sighed as he sat up, as if he, too, were reluctant to end the peaceful silence between us.

  “I am sorry, Hannah,” he murmured.

  “Don’t be. I’m not.”

  Shadow’s dark eyes held a faint hint of merry laughter as he said, with mock resignation, “I suppose I shall have to marry you now. That was your intent, wasn’t it? To tempt me into marriage with your irresistible woman’s body?”

  “Yes,” I admitted happily, and hurled myself into his outstretched arms.

  “Do you think it was fair, to tempt me with such sweetness that I could not refuse?”

  “All is fair in love and war,” I said with a shrug.

  Shadow’s mouth turned down in a wry grin. “I will come for you tomorrow,” he promised.

  I couldn’t stop smiling as I slipped into my clothes. We were going to be married. Nothing could stop us now.

  Jubilant, I lifted my face for one more kiss. “‘Til tomorrow,” I whispered, and rode hard for home, aware of Shadow’s eyes on my back until I was out of sight.

  Chapter Seven

  Monday was not a good day. I rose early and packed my clothes, wanting to be ready to leave the minute Shadow came for me.

  I looked around my room as I closed my valise. It was a nice room. The walls were whitewashed. Blue curtains hung at the window, and a matching spread covered the bed. A tall mahogany chest of drawers stood against one wall.

  It would be strange, living in a hide lodge instead of a house. I wondered what the Indians did for closets, and how I would manage to cook a whole meal over a firepit instead of on a wood stove.

  Yawning, I stared out the window. I had spent a sleepless night, wondering what my mother’s reaction was going to be when I told her I was going to marry Shadow with or without her blessing. I knew what my father’s reaction would be, and I was dreading it. But nothing they could say or do would dissuade me. I was Shadow’s woman now, and nothing could change that.

  Noon came and went, and still there was no sign of Shadow. Mother fixed my favorite meal—roast beef and potato salad—but I had no appetite and merely picked at my food. Pa muttered under his breath about good food going to waste, but Mother didn’t say a word, merely pursed her lips and looked worried.

  Shortly after lunch, Joshua rode up and insisted I go walking with him. I didn’t want to leave the trading post, but I couldn’t think of a plausible reason to refuse, so I went. I knew my mother was smiling happily as we left the house together.

  As we walked down the path to the river, I could not help but compare Joshua with Shadow. Joshua came off a poor second, I’m afraid. Oh, he was tall and handsome, and a nice boy, but he lacked that elusive animal-like magnetism that had first drawn me to Shadow. Josh was lean and fit, but Shadow was more so. Where Josh was shy and a bit reserved, Shadow exuded strength and self-confidence.

  There was just no comparison between the two, and when Joshua begged me to please reconsider his marriage proposal, I said “no” bluntly, hoping to close the subject once and for all.

  “There’s someone else, isn’t there,” Josh demanded, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Yes,” I admitted, wishing he would just shut up and go home.

  “It’s O
rin, isn’t it?”

  “For goodness sakes, Josh, it isn’t Orin. I’ve told you that a hundred times. It’s Shadow!”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth, horrified to realize what I had let slip.

  “Shadow!” Joshua exclaimed. “You mean that Injun kid?”

  “He’s not a kid anymore,” I retorted. “He’s a man full grown. And I love him.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Josh said, shaking his head. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Well, I’m not. Now please go home and leave me alone.”

  “Does your father know? I can’t believe he’d approve of your carrying on with a red-ass nigger.”

  “Of course he doesn’t know,” I muttered, wishing I had kept my big mouth shut. “You won’t tell him? Promise?”

  “I won’t tell. But you had better think this over careful before you go off and do something you’ll likely regret. I…I love you, Hannah. I guess you know I’ll always be here if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Josh,” I said sincerely, and liked him better at that moment than I ever had before.

  “Come on—I’ll walk you back to the post. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I scoffed. “I’ve been coming down here alone since I was a little girl.”

  Joshua’s blue eyes were dark with worry as he said, urgently, “You mustn’t go out alone anymore, Hannah. Haven’t you heard? John Sanders was killed last night on his way home from the Tabor place and his little girl was kidnapped.”

  “I didn’t know,” I said tremulously. “Who did it?”

  “Cheyennes, of course,” he answered bitterly. “A dozen or so—judging by the arrows they pulled out of his body.”

  “Poor Mrs. Sanders,” I murmured. “Kathy was their only child. She’ll be all alone, now.”

  My thoughts were glum as we walked back to the trading post. A family burned out. A man killed. A child kidnapped. I couldn’t believe it. The Indians had never bothered us before. Not really. Oh, they’d stolen some stock now and then, but that was about all.