Curious, yet knowing there could be danger so far from the village, she swam quietly onward to the bend in the river. When she reached it and could see where the smoke came from, she gasped and stopped, standing on the sandy river bottom.
It was a small frame lodge made of willows. Outside the entrance of the lodge, past the buffalo robe that was being used as an entrance flap, was a fire built in a circle of smooth, round rocks.
Her eyebrows rose when she saw a large rock in the center of the fire, glowing red from the heat.
She searched further and saw a clump of clothes and moccasins lying near the small lodge. Someone was there.
“A man’s clothes,” she whispered to herself, knowing now that she should turn around and swim quickly away, for where there was a man, a stranger, there might be trouble for her, a woman alone.
But just as she started to swim away, she stopped. She heard a voice singing something soft and low, as though in meditation, or prayer.
And then the voice was stilled and in its place came the sweet sound of what she thought might be a flute. Its melody was haunting and beautiful, making Joylynn believe that surely no one evil could play such enchanting music.
Her curiosity growing, Joylynn fought off the voice speaking in her head that said, “Go now, leave.” And then she was glad that she had ignored it, for she saw with whom she shared this beautiful early evening. Her heart leapt inside her chest when High Hawk crawled out of the lodge.
Joylynn felt a strange, sensual melting inside when High Hawk stood up and the sunset’s glow fell on his naked, copper body.
She watched him stretch his arms above his head, making even more of him accessible to Joylynn’s feasting eyes.
She saw the rippling of his muscles, from his head to his toes. The way his hair fell down his back as he gazed heavenward made her long to run to him and run her fingers through it. She loved his hair, every inch of it!
She even saw that part of a man she thought she would always fear after being raped so viciously.
But seeing High Hawk’s full anatomy only awoke a strange hunger inside her heart, a hunger only he could fill.
She looked suddenly away from that part of him and again gazed at his sculpted face. How on earth could he be so handsome? So alluring? Such a wonderful specimen of a man?
She had seen many a man in her time, especially when she was a Pony Express rider, but none could compare with High Hawk.
So far he had not spotted her, for she was standing in the shadow of a low-hanging willow tree. She wasn’t sure what she should do. He had come to this secluded spot for privacy and prayers; wouldn’t he see her as an interference?
But if he was finished praying, and had come out to dress for his return home, perhaps he would welcome her.
Suddenly her heart seemed to drop to her toes when High Hawk broke into a run and dove into the water and began swimming in her direction.
He seemed so intent on his swim, he had yet to realize that he was not alone in the river.
As he grew closer to Joylynn, she wasn’t sure what to do.
Allow him to see her?
Or go farther back into the shadows of the tree, then swim hurriedly around the bend that would take her from his view?
Might he not like it that she had come to his private place?
Or would he marvel at her being there? Would he come to her and welcome her in ways that she was longing to experience with him?
Just watching him, being this close to him in the water, caused her to freeze. And then suddenly it was too late to leave.
High Hawk had stopped suddenly, his eyes on her.
“Joylynn?” he said, his eyes widening. He reached his hands to his wet hair and smoothed it back from his face. “Joylynn, you are so far from the village. Did you come this far because of me? How did you know where I was?”
“I decided to take a swim,” Joylynn murmured as he swam toward her, his eyes never leaving her. “I guess . . . I . . . swam much farther than I realized. I had no idea you were here. I thought I was swimming where I could be alone.”
He swam to her, then stood up, his eyes searching hers. “Do you not understand the danger of what you have done?” he asked, reaching a hand out to her. “It might have been another man in the sweat lodge, not the man who loves you.”
“But it is you,” Joylynn said, her voice sounding strange to her. She was feeling emotions that she had never felt before in her entire life.
“Ho, it is I,” High Hawk said, smiling slowly at her.
His arms went around her and drew her against his body, where she could feel every inch of his flesh, even that part of him that she most definitely did not fear.
Instead, she ached to have him inside her. She needed him. Here was someone who could fill her every need and desire.
This was someone she loved with all her heart!
And . . . he . . . loved her!
“I love you so,” she murmured, melting inside when he brought his lips down on hers in a passionate kiss. His arms held her so tightly against him, she could feel his heartbeat blending with her own.
Both were pounding hard.
Their bodies strained against each other.
Their lips trembled with the emotion that was awakened within them.
And then High Hawk suddenly pulled Joylynn fully into his arms and carried her to the shore near his makeshift lodge.
He found a place of soft moss beneath a willow tree and spread Joylynn out upon it, then knelt down over her, straddling her with his knees.
“I have wanted you in this way for so long,” High Hawk said, brushing her wet hair back from her face. “Have you wanted me as much? I have seen it in your eyes. I have heard it in your voice, that you did.”
“I did not know that such a want . . . a need . . . existed until I met you,” Joylynn said, reaching up and touching his thick black hair, then twining her arms around his neck.
“Are you saying that you want . . . to . . . make love?” he asked huskily, his eyes searching hers. “You want me in that way?”
“Oh, Lord, yes, yes, yes,” Joylynn cried, her eyes closing in rapture as he slid a hand over one of her breasts, cupping it, causing an exquisite sensation of bliss.
Her head was spinning with ecstasy, especially when he lowered his lips to that breast and flicked the nipple with his tongue.
Joylynn was aware of a tingling sensation that filled her very being. The feel of his lips and tongue on her breast was wonderful.
He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Are you well enough to do this?” he asked, proving again to Joylynn the gentle man that he was.
She had already given herself over to him, yet he hesitated and wanted to make sure she was able to make love after the miscarriage.
“Ho, yes, I am very well,” she murmured. “Oh, High Hawk, do make love to me.”
He needed no more encouragement. He had waited so long for this moment. From the first time he had seen her that night in the moonlight, he knew that only she could satisfy the part of him that had been so long unfed.
And he was right. As she clung to him, her every secret place became his. He swept a hand down between them and found her hot, moist center.
And when she wrapped her legs around his waist, as though knowing what he needed, he took his manhood in one of his hands and slowly slid his heat up inside her warm, waiting folds.
He slid the hand back up and, as he began his rhythmic thrusts, placed it on one of her breasts and softly kneaded.
He groaned against her lips as once again he kissed her with a fierce, possessive heat.
Joylynn writhed in response and gave herself up to the rapture, drawing a ragged breath when he slid his lips down and rolled her nipple with his tongue.
She clung to him and floated, it seemed, above herself, as once again he touched her lips with his, wonderingly.
Waves of liquid heat pulsed through High Hawk’s body. He stopped his rhythmic strokes fo
r a moment to gaze at her. Her hair, the color of flame, lay softly around her shoulders.
Her eyes, the color of grass, gazed back at him, hazed over with the rapture that his thrusts were causing.
Her breasts were small, but high and full, the nipples a deep, smoky pink.
Joylynn gazed back at him, her pulse racing at seeing his dark, stormy eyes and the rapturous gaze he was giving her. Just looking at him made the raging hunger grow more intense within her.
And then he kissed her again, with a lazy warmth that left her weak, while his lean, sinewy buttocks continued to move, bringing with each thrust a feverish desire to reach the final peak. She knew it would be something she would never forget, not for the rest of her life.
Erotic heat knifed through her body, stabbing deeply into her secret places as the pleasure built and spread within her. She was flooded with emotions, all because of how she felt for this wonderful Pawnee chief.
She clung and moved with him as he groaned against her parted lips, whispering how dearly he loved her.
Suddenly explosive colors filled Joylynn’s head as the fulfillment of their togetherness finally claimed her. She arched her back, clenched her fists as she continued to hold her arms around his neck, and cried out with a passion that matched his own. She felt his body quiver and quake when he reached his own highest peak of pleasure.
Shaken with the passion he had just found in this woman’s arms, High Hawk held her for a while longer, then rolled away from her and stretched out on his back. The moon had risen, illuminating the sky with its bright fullness; the stars were like sparkling sequins against the backdrop of night.
The glow from the fire burning in front of the small lodge fell on Joylynn’s body as High Hawk turned and gazed in wonder at her.
“My love for you is forever,” he said huskily, with passion still glazing his eyes. “We will marry soon. Is that your wish?”
“I want nothing more from life than you and . . . and . . . bearing you children,” Joylynn said, tears filling her eyes at the thought of the child she had lost.
She wanted many children to help erase the thought of the one she would never have.
“I, too, want children,” High Hawk said thickly. “One in your image—”
“And several in yours,” Joylynn said, giggling.
When a breeze came across the river, brushing over her bare flesh, she shivered.
“I see that you are cold,” High Hawk said. “Come with me. I will place my buffalo robe around your shoulders until we go for your clothes.”
Joylynn went with him and was glad when he took the buffalo robe that had been used for the entrance flap of the small lodge and gently placed it around her shoulders.
She watched him dress, finding it strange that she hadn’t felt at all uneasy around him. She felt no awkwardness as she watched him slowly cover his naked body with his clothes.
Then he came and sat beside her, cradling her against him with one arm as they gazed into what remained of the fire.
Joylynn still marveled at the large rock that sat in the midst of the fire. It had lost its bright red color as its heat lessened, for the fire was burning lower and lower.
She looked over at High Hawk. “What is this small lodge for?” she asked softly.
“It is what my people call a sweat lodge,” he said, gazing over his shoulder at it. “It is a place built for the purifying of one’s body, and for prayer. I built this sweat lodge myself today. In it I took my whistle made from the wing bone of an eagle. I endured the purifying sweat as I sang sacred songs and played music on my whistle.”
“I noticed a large rock in the fire, glowing red,” Joylynn murmured. “What is its purpose?”
“Inside the sweat lodge is a small circle made from rocks,” he said, nodding. “I took hot stones from the outdoor fire, like the one you saw, which I did not use, and once inside I poured water over the stones, making steam fill the lodge. I purified myself with the steam and sage that I spread on the floor, and when I was finished I dried my body with the leaves of the sage. When I came from the lodge, even before I entered the river, I felt pure and clean.”
“And then you saw me,” Joylynn murmured. “Did seeing me disturb what you had just done? Did my presence take away the purity you found in the sweat lodge?”
“Seeing you was the perfect ending to an evening of prayer and music,” High Hawk said, taking one of her hands. “You make me complete, my woman.”
He leaned closer to her and drew her into his embrace. He kissed her, causing the buffalo robe to fall from her shoulders.
He spread the robe out across the grass, then leaned over her and kissed her again. One of his hands slid his fringed breeches down so he could enter her again, making love this time slowly and sweetly.
The cry of a loon wafted toward them from across the river just as they again came to the final throes of their passion.
Stunned that she had actually made love twice in one day with a man, Joylynn giggled as he rolled away from her, leaving his hand resting across that part of her body that still throbbed from their lovemaking.
When he began slowly stroking her love bud with his fingers, arousing in her a renewed rapturous bliss, she grabbed him around his waist and drew him atop her.
Again they found ecstasy, then lay on their backs, breathing hard, their faces flushed.
“Tomorrow you will be too tired to leave on another hunt for that dreaded outlaw,” Joylynn said. She instantly regretted her words when she realized that bringing Mole into this special moment might have broken the spell that had been woven between her and High Hawk.
When he reached for her and lifted her onto his lap, she knew that nothing could spoil these special moments between them. He sat up, facing the river, his hands molding her breasts as she slowly rocked with him.
“Nothing will keep me from the hunt,” High Hawk said, bending low to brush a kiss across first one of her breasts, and then the other. She closed her eyes and threw her head back in rapture.
Then she realized that he had just said he was definitely going on another search for Mole tomorrow.
She gazed into his eyes.
She took his hands from her breasts and held them.
“My wonderful Pawnee chief, my adorable love, I ask you again, please allow me to go with you tomorrow,” she murmured.
When he didn’t say anything, only drew her close and hugged her, Joylynn decided not to pursue the matter now.
She just relaxed, giving herself up to enjoyment of these moments with the man she loved.
Tomorrow, though?
She would be mounting up along with High Hawk, and would leave the village with him to hunt for Mole, no matter how the women gasped at her bold actions.
They surely had already learned that she was different from most women they had ever known.
That thought made her smile and lean closer to High Hawk and bury her nose in the hair that lay in front of his shoulders. “I so love your hair,” she whispered, slowly stroking her fingers through it.
She gazed up at him. “I . . . so . . . love you,” she murmured, smiling at him.
When he smiled back at her, with such love and adoration in his eyes, her night was complete.
But there was tomorrow, and she most definitely would not take no for an answer when she mounted her horse to join the hunt with High Hawk and his warriors.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It seemed like a dream to Joylynn that High Hawk was actually allowing her to ride with him and his warriors on this newest search for Mole and his outlaw friends. Upon first arising this morning, High Hawk had told her that he had one more place in particular that neither he nor his warriors had yet searched. It had come to him in a dream, which had awakened him with a start.
She was riding on her beautiful chestnut stallion, High Hawk on his best steed. They were far from the village now, after eating a good morning meal. It had to be enough nourishment to last for a while, for once
they began traveling this morning, High Hawk said there would be no stopping. His dream was leading him onward, and he did not want to waste any time.
It was still early; the sun was barely creeping up from behind the trees. The air was crisp, with a hint of the cold weather that was to come.
Joylynn wore a long-sleeved buckskin dress, which was heavier and warmer than doeskin.
She wore the same sort of headband that High Hawk and his warriors wore in order to keep her long hair back from her face as she rode beside the man she loved. It was a plain band of buckskin, with no fancy beading on it.
She had twisted her hair into one long braid down her back.
But High Hawk and his warriors wore their hair loose and free. High Hawk’s was blowing in the breeze, away from his muscled, bare shoulders. Joylynn gazed at him with admiration, proud that he was the leader of a fine, peace-loving people.
She hoped that this was the day they would find Mole. The evil man seemed to have nine lives. He was so elusive, no one ever saw him unless he wanted to be seen.
But today? Ah, yes, today she believed that he would finally get his comeuppance. High Hawk was convinced that his dream would lead them to their quarry.
Suddenly Joylynn’s gaze was drawn to the side of the trail. Far to her right were two animals that she had never expected to see together.
A skunk and a porcupine were approaching each other warily, oblivious of the thundering of the horse’s hooves. They were only interested in each other.
They then turned and backed toward each other, the porcupine preparing to strike with the deadly spikes of its tail, and the skunk with its stink.
The porcupine looked over its shoulder before striking, and the skunk discharged its spray full in the other animal’s face.
But at the same moment, the skunk was struck by the porcupine’s quills, and the skunk squealed and fled. Meanwhile, the porcupine was gagging, coughing and retching as it ambled away into the brush in the opposite direction.
“I saw it, too,” High Hawk said.
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