“You belong to me. Surely you can feel that,” he murmured.
His damp hair clung to the side of his head, and she ran her fingers through it. With an instinct that is born of woman, she moved her hips up, inviting him to drive deeper into her softness.
He groaned as his body reached dazzling heights. “You are me, and I am you,” he whispered in a raspy voice. “I love you more than life, my dearest love. Say that you love me,” he demanded, needing to hear the words spoken.
“Yes,” she groaned as the tempo inside her body was heightened by his softly spoken words. She gasped with pleasure when he thrust forward, searing the insides of her with his stamp of ownership. “I love you,” she whispered against his ear. “I love you with all my heart…”
Sky Dancer knew she was crying even in her sleep. In her vision she was witnessing a love so beautiful it tore at her heart. What she didn’t understand was why she was leaving the man she loved. Thick fog swirled about her head. She felt her lover gently stroking her skin as he spoke soothing words in her ear.
“Do not cry, little love. I shall move mountains if that will make you happy. I will sweep aside anything that stands between us, and I shall walk over anyone who tries to take you away from me.”
Sky Dancer closed her eyes, knowing the pain she was causing him. She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “Kiss me good-bye,” she cried softly. “My dearest, dearest love, kiss me one last time…”
The dense fog was closing in on her and she felt him slipping away. “Who are you?” she cried. “Why do you torture me? Why do I love you?”
Knowing it was only a dream, she moaned. Why was she tortured by dreams of this white man? She loved a ghost—an image—someone who didn’t really exist.
Suddenly she was fully awake. Her body was trembling from emotions and her cheeks were wet with tears. As before, she couldn’t remember what she had dreamed—she only knew it had made her sad. There was a great emptiness deep inside. The dream was forgotten when she awoke, but the agony it had invoked within her heart and body still remained…
“I am going to try to do what will please you, Mother.”
Leaning her face against the soft lace curtains, she hoped never to shame the people who loved and believed in her. She was so homesick that she ached all over. This world wasn’t for her. She longed for the home of her heart.
Chapter Five
Danielle was dressed in her gray riding habit with a pert little hat set at an angle on her raven tresses. Never having ridden any way except sidesaddle herself, she was appalled that her aunt rode astride like a man. Farley rode along beside them, his eyes always alert. Danielle was sure the old trapper could see things nobody else could.
As they drew near the place where they would be meeting her uncle, the young girl felt as though her stomach was tied in knots. Her cousin had mentioned that there were several warriors who would be traveling with them. Her heart leapt in fear at the thought of facing the wild savages.
They had ridden all day and were a long way from St. Louis by now. It was almost nightfall when she saw a campfire just ahead. Her hands tightened on the reins and she felt as if she were going to be sick.
She was about to be forced to meet that part of herself that she despised. She had always tried to deny that part of her that was Indian. Soon now she would come face to face with that reality.
As they rode into the camp, the first thing Danielle saw was the tipis. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she could actually hear it throbbing in her ears. Her eyes fell on several Indians who stood watching her—their dark eyes seemed to burn into her.
Danielle was startled when one of the warriors broke away and rushed over to her. Before she had time to react, he had grabbed her about the waist and swung her to the ground. All the while the Indian was saying something in his guttural language that she couldn’t understand.
She cried out and beat against his chest. Surely this savage didn’t intend to ravish her, right here before her aunt!
Joanna came quickly to Danielle’s rescue. She drew her away from the Indian and spoke to him in the Blackfoot tongue. The Indian looked startled for a moment. His dark eyes raked across Danielle’s face and he stepped back as if the touch of her skin had burned him.
Joanna put her arm about Danielle’s waist and patted her soothingly. “This is Wolfrunner. He has mistaken you for Sky Dancer. Since you know how much you resemble Sky Dancer, I’m sure you will forgive his mistake. Wolfrunner is much more confused than you are at the moment.”
Farley dismounted, and led the horses away, laughing aloud. He was clearly amused by the incident.
Danielle turned back and looked at the Indian who was watching her now with guarded indifference. He was the warrior that Sky Dancer had told her about the day of the picnic. In her mind she quickly assessed the man. He wore buckskin leggings but his body was bare from the waist up. His skin was dark—too dark for her taste. His hair was so black it was almost blue, and his eyes were almost the color of the raven’s wing. Indeed there was a strong handsomeness about him, but not the kind she admired. He was a savage and she vowed she would never allow him to come near her again.
Before she could utter a word, riders approached the camp, the air suddenly seemed sharp with tension. The Indians that were seated by the campfire stood up as the newcomers drew reins.
Danielle turned to watch her uncle ride into camp with several of his warriors. He was different than he had been at the picnic. She supposed it was because of his surroundings. She was immediately aware of the fact that he was the kind of man who commanded and received respect. His dark eyes went first to his wife and visibly softened. When he looked at Danielle she saw them sparkle with warmth.
Dismounting slowly, he walked leisurely toward her. There was nothing about him that incited fear in Danielle. As she looked into his eyes, she read the strangest emotion. Love…Her uncle loved her! How could it be she hadn’t seen that in his eyes at the picnic.
He didn’t attempt to touch her, but merely smiled slightly. “Danielle, how long I have wanted the chance to get to know you. I feel the part of you that is my dead sister.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing he was pulling at that part of her that was Indian—awaking her other self, the part that she had denied existence.
“I am pleased to see you again, Uncle,” she said, surprising herself. Indeed there was a part of her that was thrilled at the chance to get to know, and understand, the man who had been a legend to her. She had heard so much about his daring deeds, she could hardly believe he stood before her in the flesh.
Windhawk could sense in his niece a great unrest. Knowing it would not be wise to hug her to him as he wanted to do, he turned his attention to Joanna.
His eyes were so alive and spoke of how he had missed her. “Did it go well for our daughter?” he asked his wife in English for his niece’s benefit.
“Sky Dancer was apprehensive, but I believe all will be well with her.” Joanna reached out her hand and Windhawk clasped it in his.
Danielle could feel someone’s eyes burning into her, and she turned to see the Indian Wolfrunner staring at her. When she met his eyes, he turned away and she shivered. Her heart was pounding and she could feel these people pulling at her. She would never allow them to make a savage of her. Her Indian blood had long been denied, but now some part of her felt akin to these people.
“Come,” her uncle said, holding the tent flap aside for Danielle to enter. Without a backward glance she walked into the tipi, glad to get away from Wolfrunner’s probing eyes.
There were some kind of skins spread inside the tipi, and Danielle gathered this was where they would sleep. She was weary, and she sank down on one of the soft skins too tired to think or reason. The very worst had already happened to her. She would be forced to live like an animal until she could return to Philadelphia.
“Why don’t you rest, Danielle,” Joanna said kindly. She could see her nie
ce was totally exhausted. “I will bring you food and then you can go to sleep.”
Danielle sank back against the soft robe. Feeling emotionally drained, she closed her eyes. She was asleep when Joanna returned with her food.
Danielle awoke feeling bruised and stiff. It was not yet daylight, so she turned to face the campfire. Stretching her arms above her head, she looked up at the overhead branches and frowned. If this was what it was like sleeping under the stars, she could well do without it. She was accustomed to sleeping in a downy feather bed with soft bed sheets next to her skin.
Sitting up, she frowned in distaste at the animal skin she lay upon. It had done little to cushion her against the hard ground. How much more of this would she have to endure? This was the worst torture she could think of. Would her father feel pity for her, if he could see her now?
“I see that you are awake,” her Aunt Joanna said, dropping down beside her. “I have always liked sleeping beneath the sky, don’t you? Of course sleeping in a tipi isn’t quite the same, is it?”
Danielle was quiet for a moment. She could hardly credit that her lovely aunt liked the hardships she was forced to endure as the wife of a Blackfoot chief.
“I much prefer to sleep in my own bed. I fail to see what you could possibly like about sleeping on the ground.”
Joanna smiled in understanding. “I can see where you might feel that way now, but wait until you have become accustomed to our ways. Everything is new to you and I can imagine you might feel frightened too.”
“I want to go home. Why is my father punishing me?”
Joanna drew the young girl into her arms, knowing very well what she was feeling. “Your father isn’t trying to punish you, Danielle. He made a promise to your grandmother that he would allow you to get to know your mother’s people. He has merely honored that promise.”
“Alexandria is my mother. I don’t want to think about the woman who gave me birth. She isn’t my true mother. I do not want to think about being half Indian!”
Joanna stood up and motioned for Danielle to do the same. “Walk with me. I want to tell you about your mother. She was not only very fair of face, but she was beautiful on the inside as well.”
Danielle rose reluctantly. She didn’t want to hear about the woman who had given birth to her. She had always been ashamed of the Indian blood that ran in her veins. Her father had often wanted to talk about her true mother, but Danielle wouldn’t listen.
As they walked through the woods the sun painted the sky with a soft rosy hue. The birds in the branches of the cottonwood trees were singing sweetly to welcome the new day.
“Danielle, are you aware that your mother died the day you were born?”
“Yes, I knew that,” she said with a pout on her lips. Apparently her Aunt Joanna was going to talk about her mother whether Danielle wanted to hear about her or not.
“How she would have loved you, had she lived. Her last thoughts before she died were of you. Did your father tell you that?”
“Yes, but I never really listened when he spoke of such things. I didn’t know Morning Song, so therefore I do not love her.”
Joanna felt tears sting her eyes. “It seems you have closed your heart to anything connected with your mother. What a pity. Do you realize Morning Song was your same age when she died?”
“I…no, I never thought about that. Was she really beautiful?”
“Indeed she was, Danielle. Her hair was midnight black, and she had the most beautiful brown eyes. Her voice was soft, and I rarely heard it raised in anger. Morning Song was a kind person. Everyone loved her, including your father. You were a child born of that love. If you deny your mother, you deny the love your father had for Morning Song.”
“She was an Indian princess?”
“Yes, that’s true, and so are you.”
Joanna studied her niece’s face for a moment. Danielle looked so like her own daughter that it was like a knife in her heart. The biggest difference between the two girls was their disposition. Sky Dancer was sweet and kind, while Danielle was stubborn and willful. Joanna feared her niece would suffer greatly before she came to terms with who she was.
“Your grandmother is marking off the days until you come. She has talked of nothing else but your visit for months. She loves you a great deal, Danielle.”
The young girl stopped and leaned against the trunk of a tall tree. “I wish I didn’t have to see her. How am I supposed to act with her? What will we find to talk about?”
Joanna took a deep breath. “Shall I tell you a secret? This last year, Sun Woman has been learning to speak English just so she could converse with you. Let your heart guide you, Danielle. Sun Woman has so much love to give you. If you will only allow it, she has many worthwhile things to teach you.”
Tears welled up in the young girl’s blue eyes. “I…am afraid of her,” she admitted. “I have always been afraid of Indians.”
Joanna pulled Danielle into her arms and stroked her dark hair. “Oh, my dear, dear child, there is nothing for you to fear in the Blackfoot village. You are going to be received with so much love it will astound you.”
Danielle pulled away and turned her back. “I am not afraid of my Uncle Windhawk.”
Joanna smiled. “Why do you suppose that is?”
“I…don’t know.”
Joanna sat down on a fallen log and motioned for Danielle to join her. “Shall I tell you something?”
Danielle sat down and folded her hands in her lap. “Yes, if you aren’t going to tell me more about my…mother.”
“I was going to tell you about Windhawk, but your mother may come up in the conversation.”
Danielle turned troubled eyes to her aunt. “Why did you abandon your life in Philadelphia to remain with the Blackfoot? You are so beautiful, and my father says that you could have had your pick of young gentlemen to marry.”
Joanna smiled, wondering how she could tell this young girl how Windhawk had swept through her life one autumn and stolen her heart. “When I first met Windhawk, I was frightened of him. I had been injured, and he nursed me back to health and then took me back to his village. I can still remember that first day in the Blackfoot village so clearly. The only friendly face I saw that day was your mother’s. She was so kind to me, and later we became the best of friends. Since she died, I have never found a friend to replace her in my heart.”
“Why did you decide to stay with the Indians, Aunt Joanna? My father said you could have returned to Philadelphia had you wanted to.”
Joanna’s eyes took on a faraway look, her mouth curved into a smile. It would be hard to explain all-consuming love to someone who hadn’t experienced that emotion for herself. She turned her blue gaze on her young niece. “Have you yet met a man whom you love?”
“No.” Danielle shook her head. “I have had many beaux who have liked me, but I never felt I could marry any of them. I always feared that if a man found out about me being a half-breed, he wouldn’t want to love me.”
Joanna tilted the young girl’s face up, feeling her heart break. She thought perhaps it was a good thing that Danielle was spending the summer with the Blackfoot. She needed to learn many lessons, but most of all she needed to learn to be proud of who she was.
“Danielle, when you find the right man, and if he truly loves you, it will not matter who your mother and father are.”
“I could never love an Indian,” Danielle said as her blue eyes sparked with something akin to fear. “I don’t want a dirty Indian to even touch me.”
Joanna closed her eyes, remembering the awful day when Morning Song had died. How well she could recall taking this girl to her own breasts and nursing her. She realized that Danielle needed help and understanding before she could come to terms with her heritage. Her young niece was obviously being torn apart by having denied that side of her that came from her Indian mother. Joanna hoped, with all her heart that she could find a way to help her niece end the torment she was living through.
/> “Danielle, if you are expecting to live like a princess when you get to the village, then you will be sadly disappointed. The Blackfoot people work very hard and have no respect for anyone who doesn’t do the same.”
“Are you saying I will have to labor like a…servant?”
“No, I am simply saying that if you want to gain the respect of your mother’s people, you will have to prove you are worthy. They are anxious to reach out to you in friendship because of your mother, but they will judge you on your own merits.”
“I never had to do anything around our home in Philadelphia, and I have no intentions of laboring in some dirty Indian village,” Danielle cried defiantly.
Joanna could feel her temper rising, but she tried to keep it in check. Perhaps Danielle couldn’t help it if she was spoiled. “You will not find the people of the Blackfoot dirty, Danielle, but neither will you find the comforts you are accustomed to. Why don’t you open your heart and give us all a chance. Perhaps you will even enjoy yourself this summer.”
Danielle’s eyes clouded over. “All I want to do is go home. I will be counting the days until I can leave all this behind forever.”
Joanna sighed deeply, knowing she had a heavy task ahead of her. Danielle would be miserable if she didn’t change her attitude toward the Blackfoot.
“Come, the warriors will be breaking camp by now. We must eat before we start out. Your uncle Windhawk travels at a very fast pace, and you will need all your strength to keep up with him.”
The scantily clad Indian was hidden by a thick bramble bush as he peered at the Blackfoot village across the Milk River. His eyes narrowed as they moved to the center of the village where Windhawk’s lodge stood. His heart burned with bitter hatred, when he thought of the chief of the Bloods. His hatred had festered and grown over the years. He had been but a young boy when Windhawk had ridden into the Piegan Blackfoot village and slain his father, Running Elk.
Scar Face remembered standing over Running Elk’s dead body and vowing revenge against the man who had taken his father’s life.
Savage Summer Page 7
