“Venison stew.” He lifted a small piece of meat from his bowl, murmured something she did not understand, and placed the meat in the fire.
“What are you doing?”
“It is an offering to the spirit of the deer.” He took a bite. “From now on, you will be expected to do the cooking. You will also gather the wood and the water.”
“Oh I will, will I?”
He nodded. “It is woman’s work.”
“You did it before.”
“Because it was necessary. It is not necessary now.”
“How long are you going to keep me here?”
“The ways of my people will seem strange to you, but we are not savages, as the wasichu believe. Though our customs are different from yours, you will soon get used to them.”
“I don’t want to get used to them. I want to go home.”
“No. Your destiny is here, with me.”
“Isn’t that for me to decide?”
“I saw you in my vision…”
“And I saw you in a dream. A nightmare! That doesn’t mean anything.”
The look in his eyes told her it meant everything.
She dreamt of the black wolf that night. It was the same dream as always save for one difference. This time, when he chased her, he caught her. She felt his weight bear her down to the ground. She rolled over and found him standing over her, his forelegs on either side of her shoulders. His breath was hot on her face as she stared up into his deep golden-brown eyes. She tried to tell herself that there was nothing to be afraid of. It was only a dream…only a dream. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, it was Wolf Dreamer bending over her, his face close to hers, his eyes alight with desire….
She woke, breathless, her body warm with wanting. Sitting up, she glanced across the floor of the lodge. In the faint light of the coals, she could see him on the other side of the lodge, sleeping. He had thrown off his sleeping robe; her gaze moved slowly over his broad back and shoulders. She knew an overpowering urge to run her fingertips over his skin, to delve into the thick blackness of his hair, to trace the line of his jaw.
She curled her hands into tight fists, turned on her side, and stared at the wall of the tipi. Even when she closed her eyes, she couldn’t escape him. It was all too easy to summon his image from memory, to imagine her fingertips playing over his copper-hued skin, to imagine his mouth on hers, his hands caressing her…
She groaned softly. Why did he tempt her so? Though she would never admit it, he was constantly in her thoughts, making her yearn for that which was forbidden, making her wonder what it would be like to hold him, to touch him, to be held and touched in return. Perhaps it was only because it was forbidden that he consumed her thoughts and troubled her dreams.
He was awake. She knew it without knowing how. He had made no sound, spoken no word, yet she knew he was awake. Awake and watching her.
Her heartbeat quickened and she sucked in a deep breath, loosed it in a long shuddering sigh.
“Rebecca.”
His voice moved over her, soft as dandelion down yet filled with longing.
She didn’t move, didn’t reply. Only waited…
There was a faint whisper of cloth over skin as he eased out of his sleeping robe and padded toward her. She sensed him looming over her, waiting.
Unable to resist, she rolled onto her back and gazed up at him.
Taking that as leave to do so, he knelt beside her and slipped under the covers beside her.
His nearness made her tremble. Did he mean to ravish her? The thought filled her with panic. It was too soon, too soon.
“Do not be afraid,” he said quietly. “I want only to hold you close, nothing more.”
He slid his arm beneath her neck and drew her body against his. Unwilling to lie naked in a strange place, she had worn her doeskin dress to bed. He wore nothing save for a breechcloth. Despite the clothing that separated them, she felt the heat of his arousal.
“Go to sleep, Rebecca.” He lifted a lock of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
She was certain she would never be able to sleep with him so close beside her yet her eyelids felt suddenly heavy, so heavy.
When she opened them again, it was morning and she was alone in the lodge.
Chapter 9
Wolf Dreamer was returning to the camp when Summer Moon Rising stepped onto the path, blocking his way.
“I did not have a chance to welcome you home yesterday.” Her voice was as low and throaty as he recalled.
“You could have come forward with the others.”
“I could have,” she agreed, “but I wanted to save my welcome for a time when we could be alone.”
“I did not see Elk Chaser yesterday.”
She lowered her gaze. “Elk Chaser has gone to the land of his ancestors.”
“Was it a good death?”
She nodded. “It was a brave one. He was killed while defending our village from an attack by the Crow.”
With a nod, Wolf Dreamer took a step forward, intending to move past her.
She stayed him with a hand on his arm. “Wait.”
Slowly, deliberately, he removed her hand from his arm. “We have no more to say to each other.”
“Do not hate me, Wolf Dreamer. I was wrong to refuse you. I know that now, and I am ready to be your woman.”
“I have a woman.”
“That wasicun?” she asked scornfully. “She is your woman?”
He nodded.
“Get rid of her. The People will never accept her. She will never be one of us.”
“She is mine. I will have no other.”
“I lost you once,” Summer Moon Rising declared, her dark eyes flashing. “I will not lose you a second time.”
“Listen to me. You will not touch her. Do you understand?”
“I said nothing about hurting her.”
“If any harm comes to her, you will regret it.”
Summer Moon Rising made a derisive sound low in her throat. “She is not worthy of you.”
“You will return that which you took from her.”
“I took nothing.”
“I can read the lie in your eyes. Return her clothing by nightfall.”
She stared at him, her expression defiant, yet he read the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty. Everyone knew he was destined to be the next shaman and that, as such, he possessed power over good and evil.
Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the woods that lined the path.
Wolf Dreamer stared after her. Once, he had thought to share his life with her. Now, he felt nothing but pity for her and relief that she had refused him.
Banishing Summer Moon Rising from his mind, he walked swiftly up the path toward the village and Rebecca.
Rebecca looked up as someone raised the lodge flap, felt her heart skip a beat as Wolf Dreamer stepped into the lodge. He was so incredibly handsome, she couldn’t stifle the quiver of excitement that slid down her spine whenever she saw him, but it was more than that. Even though he was keeping her here against her will, she felt safe with him. He had saved her from death and worse. He was the only constant in her life, the only protection she had in this strange new place.
He paused just inside the doorway, his gaze meeting hers.
Warmth flowed between them, made her skin tingle and her toes curl. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she licked her lips, clenched her hands at her sides to keep from reaching for him.
He took a step toward her, his golden-brown eyes glowing, until she saw nothing but him. Wanted nothing but him.
There was an ache deep within her, a need she’d never known before, a hunger that frightened her.
She gazed up at him, her heart beating so loudly in her ears she was surprised he didn’t hear it, too.
He lifted his hand, then hesitated, giving her time to back away if that was what she wanted. When she stayed her ground, he slipped his arms arou
nd her waist and drew her up against him.
“Rebecca, can you not feel that this is right, that we were meant to be together?”
“I’m not sure what I feel,” she replied quietly. “All I know is that I’ll die if you don’t kiss me.”
“Kiss?” He frowned at her. “What is kiss?”
“Don’t you know?”
At his look of confusion, she drew his head down and touched her lips to his.
Startled, he jerked his head back. “That is a kiss?”
“Yes.”
He grunted softly, then lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.
He learned very quickly.
She was breathless when he drew back. She had been fighting her attraction to him since the first time they met, but she couldn’t fight it any longer. Right or wrong, she cared deeply for him.
“I think we should do that again,” he remarked. “What do you think?”
“Oh, yes,” she murmured, her hands clutching his shoulders. “We should definitely…”
His kiss cut off the rest of her words, but she didn’t mind. Going up on her tiptoes, she pressed herself against him, loving the way they fit together, loving the way his hard muscular body cradled her softer one.
Her hands slid down his back, skimmed his taut buttocks, then slid up to cling to his shoulders once again as her knees went weak.
He held her tight with one arm, letting his free hand slide up and down her back before he cupped her breast.
She moaned softly and leaned into him.
“Rebecca…” He took a deep breath and put her away from him. She had given birth only a short time ago. As much as he yearned to possess her, he knew it was too soon. Her body had not yet recovered from childbirth. And yet, even if the time had been right, he knew in his heart he would not take her to his bed, not until she was his woman according to the custom of his people. She would be the mother of his son. He would not bed her until she was truly his wife.
He grinned wryly as she released a long shuddering sigh. It was good to know she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
He clasped her hand in his. “Will you be my woman, Rebecca?”
“What do you mean?”
“Will you share my life and my lodge? Will you bear my children?”
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my.” She looked deep into his eyes, those strange golden-brown eyes. Marry him. How could she? He was an Indian; she was a white woman. His ties were here; hers were in the east. He was a warrior, a man destined to be a leader among his people. His people would never accept her. Even if she learned their language, adopted their customs, she would never be one of them.
How could she marry him?
How could she refuse?
He squeezed her hand. “Rebecca?”
“I don’t know. I’m afraid…”
“Of me?”
“No!”
“My people?”
She nodded. “I don’t belong here. I never will.”
“If I accept you, my people will also accept you.” Yet even as he said the words, he wondered if he spoke the truth.
Early that afternoon, Roan Horse summoned Wolf Dreamer to his lodge.
“What do you think he wants?” Rebecca asked.
Wolf Dreamer shrugged. “I will go and find out.”
Roan Horse’s woman left the lodge when Wolf Dreamer entered.
“Come, sit.” Roan Horse gestured for him to sit down. Lifting his pipe, he puffed on it and handed it to Wolf Dreamer, who took a puff and handed it back to Roan Horse. They passed the pipe back and forth four times, then Roan Horse set it aside.
“It is good to be back with the People, yes?” Roan Horse asked.
Wolf Dreamer nodded.
“I knew you would return, when you were ready.”
“Did you?”
“I saw you in a vision. You were searching for the red-haired woman. I knew you would return when you found her, and you did.”
Wolf Dreamer nodded.
“It is time for you to take over as shaman for the People of the High Mountain.”
“No. You have many years left.”
Roan Horse shook his head slowly. “I waited only for your return. Tomorrow, I will travel Wanagi Tacaka to the Place of Souls. My ancestors will be waiting for me there. We will smoke the pipe and talk of the good old days.”
Wolf Dreamer stared at the old man, speechless. He did not doubt Roan Horse’s words for a moment. He had known too many Old Ones who had set their faces toward death and gone to meet it. “I am not ready.”
“You will do well, as long as you do not stray from the Life Path of the People. Tonight, we will have a sweat. Tomorrow, you will be ready.”
With a nod, Wolf Dreamer left the old man’s tipi.
Rebecca was waiting for him outside when he returned to his own lodge. “What did Roan Horse want? Is everything all right?”
“I am to meet him later for a sweat.”
“A sweat?”
“It is a ceremony of purification.”
“Oh.”
“It is a sacred thing, not to be taken lightly.” As a child, he had learned that the sweat lodge represented the womb of Mother Earth. The darkness within was man’s ignorance. The hot stones represented the coming of life, the hissing sound of the water hitting the stones was the power of creation. Earth, air, water and fire were all represented within the lodge.
“What else?”
He shook his head.
“What else did he say? Why do you look so sad? Is something wrong?”
“Roan Horse will die tomorrow.”
“How can you know that?”
“He has set his face toward death.”
“But…people don’t die just because they want to.” If they did, she wouldn’t be here now, she thought, remembering how she had yearned for death when she learned her baby had been born dead. “That’s impossible.”
“You will see.”
Rebecca walked slowly along the edge of the timberline, pausing now and then to pick up a piece of wood for the fire. Wolf Dreamer had left to meet Roan Horse over an hour ago. She wondered exactly what went on in a “sweat” and why it was considered holy and if he would tell her about it when he returned.
She bent down to pick up another piece of wood and when she turned around to start back toward the village, Summer Moon Rising was blocking her path, her eyes filled with anger and jealousy.
Refusing to be intimidated by the other woman, Rebecca lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and started walking up the path. Summer Moon Rising stood her ground and as Rebecca drew alongside, Summer Moon Rising gave her a hard push. She was thrown off-balance and the wood tumbled from her grasp.
With a malicious laugh, Summer Moon Rising turned and ran down toward the river.
With a sigh of frustration, Rebecca began picking up the wood she had dropped.
Wolf Dreamer closed his eyes as Roan Horse’s wife poured cold water over the hot stones. It had been years since he had participated in a sweat. He had observed it all as if it were the first time. A small pit called iniowaspe had been dug to hold the heated stones; the floor of the lodge was covered with sweet sage. The earth that had been removed from the iniowaspe was formed into a small mound, which was called hanbelachia, or the vision hill. An area between the vision hill and the pit was cleared and this was known as the smoothed trail, which was a representation of a vision quest.
Roan Horse had placed offerings of tiny bundles of tobacco on the hill, along with the pipe that would be used during the ceremony.
And now Wolf Dreamer sat across from Roan Horse while Roan Horse’s wife ladled cold water over the hot stones. A great hissing sound filled the air; great clouds of steam filled the lodge.
Perspiration poured from Wolf Dreamer’s body. The bitter taste of sage was on his tongue, sweat stung his eyes.
Roan Horse chanted softly.
> The pipe was passed between them four times.
Water was ladled on the hot rocks four times.
The sacred songs were repeated four times.
Reality faded into the distance as he was swallowed up in the thick steamy blackness. And then, out of the dark mist, a gray wolf appeared. Tail wagging, tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth, it stared at Wolf Dreamer through amber eyes.
You need not fear to lead the People, the wolf said. They will accept you as their shaman. They will accept your woman. Only be true to the lessons you have been taught and all will be well.
Wolf Dreamer nodded.
The gray wolf shook his head and bared his fangs. Beware Summer Moon Rising.
With that warning, the gray wolf faded into the mists from whence it had come. At the same time, Roan Horse lifted the door flap, admitting a blast of fresh sweet air.
Wolf Dreamer followed Roan Horse out of the lodge, where they rubbed themselves with sweet sage, then plunged into the river.
The cold water should have come as a shock, but it didn’t. Coming up out of the water, Wolf Dreamer felt at peace, light in heart and mind.
Until he started for the shore and found Summer Moon Rising standing there.
Chapter 10
She watched him as he stepped out of the water. Roan Horse’s gaze flickered between them, and then he followed the narrow path that led back to his lodge.
“What are you doing here?” Wolf Dreamer asked when they were alone.
“I wanted to see you.” Her gaze traveled boldly over his body as she walked toward him, his clout swinging from one hand. “I know you are angry with me for marrying Elk Chaser, but you must forgive me.”
“I am not angry with you.” He snatched his clout from her hand. “If it is my forgiveness you want, you have it.”
“I want to be your woman,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Let us be together, as we were meant to be.”
He shook his head. “It we were meant to be together, we would be together now. You did not want to be a part of my life when it was offered to you. Nothing has changed, Summer Moon. I possess the same powers that once frightened you. Tomorrow, I will become the shaman of our people, and those powers will grow stronger.”
Lakota Legacy: Wolf DreamerCowboy Days and Indian NightsSeven Days Page 6
