Her Cheyenne Warrior (Harlequin Historical)

by Lauri Robinson

  Not exactly sure why her heart started racing, Lorna nodded and slipped out of the lodge. Thoughts of how strong and brave yet also how caring and kind Black Horse was occupied her mind throughout the evening, to the point she barely spoke to anyone, or listened to their gossip. Who would have thought she could be so quiet, so obedient!

  After everyone had eaten and left the lodge, her mind was still a tangled mess.

  “Your friends told you,” Black Horse said.

  He still sat in the center of the lodge, having not left with the others or shared the pipe with them as was the ritual. “Told me what?” she asked.

  “The hunt is done.”

  She searched her mind, wondering if someone had mentioned that. Now that she thought about it, others had been extremely quiet tonight, including her friends. “No, no one mentioned that.” Many things were different here, and maybe the end of the hunt was depressing for them. “I’m sorry you killed all the buffalo, but isn’t that what you wanted to do?”

  The hint of a smile on his lips caused her heart to thud.

  “There are still many hotoa’e,” he said. “Many buffalo.”

  Thinking harder about how quiet everyone had been, she asked, “Then, why was everyone so gloomy?”

  “Gloomy?”

  “Sad, depressed, acting like their dog just died.”

  “No dogs died.”

  “I know that.”

  He chuckled then, and she realized he’d been teasing her. She shook her head, knowing full well he had a thorough grasp of the English language. “You know what gloomy means, but I still don’t understand.”

  “The other bands will leave. As soon as their meat is prepared to travel.”

  Traveling with fresh carcasses would be difficult, even for Indians, but she hadn’t expected to learn the other bands’ departures would sadden anyone. Meg said the bands gathered together a couple times a year to hunt and then separated as if those were just normal activities.

  “We, too, will leave this place,” Black Horse said.

  “To follow the buffalo west?”

  “Hova’ahane,” he answered. “We have enough buffalo.”

  His answer didn’t surprise her. The Indians were not a greedy lot. They never took all of anything. Not fish, or roots or berries. They always left some behind for the earth to replenish what had been taken. The hair on her arms shivered, but she refused to admit what it meant. “Where will you go?”

  “To make winter camp,” he said.

  “Where will you make this camp?”

  He shifted slightly to look her directly in the eye. “South.”

  “South,” she repeated.

  He nodded. “To hunt deer and elk in order to have plenty to feed our people this winter, and to trade with the white man.”

  “South,” she said again.

  “Heehe’e.”

  It dawned on her then why everyone had been so somber. They would be parting. “Has Little One said she will leave with Meg?”

  “She has not told me her decision.”

  Lorna had a distinct sense Little One’s decision was not the reason a hard knot had formed in her stomach. There was an aspect of safety being among so many, and returning to the trail, just the four, or possibly five, of them seemed frightening in a way it never had before. That had to be because of all the changing she’d done inside. “Well,” she said, “she doesn’t need to make her mind up tonight. It will be a few days before all the hides are tanned and all the meat is dried.”

  The way Black Horse pinched his lips together said he was trying to hide his smile. She saw it though, in his eyes. There was no way he could hide that twinkle.

  “It’s true,” she said. “It’ll take a few days.”

  “Heehe’e,” he said. “It will.”

  “Well, then, there is no reason for everyone to be moping.” Including her. She pushed off the floor, but once standing, wasn’t sure where to go. There was a distinct stinging in her chest. “You must be tired,” she said. “Good night.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She had no idea, and voiced the only excuse she could think of. “The latrine.”

  He stood. “I will come with you.”

  “You will not.” There wasn’t enough privacy as it was, and she certainly wasn’t going to relieve herself with him around.

  “Stands Tall has gone.”

  “He knows better than to follow me there,” she said.

  “I know.”

  Lorna didn’t doubt he did know. Some people made a habit of pointing out her every move. When the first buffalo had been brought into camp and she’d turned away from the gruesome sight, One Who Heals had wasted no time in pointing that out to Black Horse that evening. A somewhat heated exchanged had followed. Meg had said he’d told One Who Heals it was her job as the eldest family member to teach others, not criticize them. Hearing that, Lorna had become determined to learn how to butcher that animal, and the ones that followed. Just to show the old woman what a good student she was.

  She was just as determined to go to the latrine by herself right now. “I don’t need a watchdog.”

  “Come,” he said, pushing open the flap door. “It is dark.”

  “I know it’s dark.”

  “Then, I will not see anything, will I?”

  Her cheeks burned at how he’d read her thoughts. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she ducked and exited the teepee.

  The area was a significant distance away, and her fortitude dissolved the farther they walked from the heart of the camp and its fires. Night guards were on duty, making their rounds. Much like in the white man’s world, there were many different jobs in the camp. Sleeps All Day was known as that because he was awake all night, overseeing a large number of men who protected the camp so others could sleep without worries.

  Not wanting to dwell on what had happened the previous night, she asked, “Do you know that Sleeps All Day can sleep on his horse?” Without waiting for Black Horse to answer, she said, “I saw it. He was lying on his horse’s back, with his head on the animal’s neck, and slept while we traveled. Tillie and I laughed about it, and were amazed.”

  “You have seen many new things since you arrived, Poeso,” he said. “Things no longer frighten you.”

  She let that settle for a moment before answering. “You’re right. I have seen many things, and they no longer frighten me, but I probably wouldn’t have been frightened of a sleeping Indian anyway.”

  “You still have your gun?”

  “Of course,” she said. “It’s in my pocket.”

  “You have on a different dress.”

  She hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I had to wash the black one after my first encounter with a bloody buffalo,” she said. “It’s in the wagon. I figured I’d wear my other dress until we left.” Another shiver rippled her arms. That had been her thought when she’d washed the nun’s outfit. Once they started traveling alone again, the outfit would be needed, and would be in horrendous condition if she wore it while butchering buffalo every day. She was able to get the job of butchering done, but had yet to master doing so without needing a bath afterward. The women all bathed regularly in the river, and here, too, she’d learned something. They were modest, but not prudish. No one thought one way or the other about stripping down and scrubbing clean after the messy tasks.

  A tug on her skirt had her stopping and spinning about. Two children, almost invisible in the dark, were already racing back toward camp. If not for their giggles and whooping noises, she wouldn’t have seen them. “What was that all about?”

  “They counted coup on you,” Black Horse answered. “They will make fine warriors.”

  She had learned of such acts from others, and frowned as they started walking again. “But I’m not the enemy.”

  He laughed. “No, but as the Woman Who Sleeps in Black Horse’s Lodge, you are untouchable.”

  “I am?” She rather liked the idea of being untouchable.
/>   “Yes, only the very brave would dare come close. Only those not afraid of punishment.”

  “Punishment by whom?”

  “Me.”

  She once again stopped in her tracks. “You aren’t going to punish them, are you? They are just children.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “No!”

  He chuckled. “Then, I will not.”

  She shoved at him playfully and laughed when he grunted and faked stumbling. “You weren’t going to in the first place,” she said. “You can’t fool me. You are not the big bad man you pretend to be.”

  “I’m not?”

  In many ways he was the fiercest and most powerful man she’d ever met, but she wasn’t going to inflate his ego. “No, you are not.” Lifting her chin, she said, “You are about as frightening as a rabbit.”

  “A rabbit?”

  “Yes, you should be called Black Rabbit instead of Black Horse.”

  He laughed and waved a hand. “Go. I wait here.”

  They had arrived at the area, and though it was dark, she still found a tree to provide a bit more privacy. When finished, she skirted back around the tree, but paused to scan the area. Nighttime clouds made the night darker, but she should still be able to see his silhouette. “Black Horse?”

  The faint sounds of drums and chanting from a few celebrating their day’s hunt as they had done every night were all she could hear.

  She flinched, remembering the warrior who had been banned, but stopped herself from calling out to Black Horse again. It was highly doubtful anyone else would attempt to anger him with such antics. He probably had to use the facilities, too.

  A rustle behind her released a bit of the tension that had started to build. She turned about, and shivered slightly when no one was there.

  Unable not to, she quietly called, “Black Horse?”

  Nothing but silence again.

  Had he left her? He said he’d wait, and he’d never gone back on his word, not once.

  Another sound had her spinning in the other direction, but once again, nothing was visible. She eased a hand toward her hip, where she did indeed keep her gun. Just as her hand was about to slip into her pocket, she was seized from behind.

  The scream that leaped into her throat, but which she’d been too paralyzed to let out, slowly eased its way back down at the chuckle echoing in her ears.

  “That was not funny,” she said, slapping at the arms wrapped around her.

  “Were you frightened?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “So Black Horse does scare you.”

  “Because I didn’t know it was you,” she said. “I didn’t see you.”

  “I hide like a rabbit.”

  Fully at ease, she laughed, and leaned back against him, not at all opposed to his closeness. “You are too big to be a rabbit.”

  “You called me Black Rabbit.”

  Squirming enough so his hold allowed her to twist about slightly, she said, “I was teasing, just like you were teasing me.”

  “Aw,” he said, drawing out the single syllable as he met her gaze. “You like teasing.”

  The twinkle in his eyes was stronger than ever. That she did like, yet the truth made her pause briefly before admitting, “I’ve never been teased before.”

  He released his hold, but only to spin her all the way around. Still holding her close with one arm, he lifted her chin with his other hand. “Black Horse likes teasing Poeso.”

  His broken English was yet another way he teased her. She’d heard him speak English fluently. There were times he’d pause to remember the right word, but really only spoke it poorly when the subject matter wasn’t serious or he was joking.

  “Black Horse being silly,” she said in an attempt to mock him.

  The smile on his face slipped away, and for a moment she wondered if she’d offended him, but then an entirely different thought emerged.

  Lorna had no idea where it came from, for such an idea had never crossed her mind before, but she couldn’t deny the notion or the reaction it had on her. Her heart was pounding its way up her throat and her lips were tingling.

  He bent forward, sending her already out-of-sorts heart racing so fast her breath wobbled. When his lips touched hers, she froze on the outside while jubilation exploded inside her. The connection was shocking, and...amazing.

  His lips moved over hers in such a soft caress she went weak in the knees. However, she had the sense to grasp his shoulders. His arms fully encircled her, pulling her close against his bare chest as his lips pressed firmly against hers. There was nothing hard or forceful about it. Just the opposite. His touch, the way his lips met hers, was gentle and ignited a reaction she couldn’t control. Delight raced to every part of her body, including her toes that curled inside her boots.

  He was a giant of a man, big and powerful, and it was as if, just as he’d used that power to protect her, he was sharing it with her as he had everything else. A force, a vitality she’d never known filled her. She stretched onto her toes in order to increase the connection of their lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hold on her tightened, and the mingling of their lips turned into a teasing and lively foray.

  Good heavens, but she could have floated away right then and there. She’d never felt so light and carefree, or so vivacious. A giggle escaped and Black Horse leaned back slightly.

  Lorna bit her lip, wishing she could have held in the giggle, for she hadn’t wanted the kissing to end.

  “My kisses make you laugh?”

  His eyes were still twinkling, and he was smiling.

  She shook her head, and then nodded, confused in so many ways. “Your kisses make me happy.” Once again, shock raced through her. How could she have admitted that?

  He combed his fingers into her hair, all the way to the back of her head, where his firm grip kept her from dipping her chin. “I like seeing you happy, Poeso,” he whispered. “It makes me happy.”

  Her mind must have stopped working, or figured it was fine and dandy to reveal what she would never normally have. “I like seeing you happy, too,” she said. “And I like how you call me Poeso.”

  His lips met hers again, and this time his kiss penetrated deep inside her, filling her with more light and heat than the summer sun could ever hope to. Although she was utterly engrossed in all the new and wonderful sensations filling her, she silently questioned if she’d giggled again when he pulled way.

  “Others come,” he whispered.

  “Oh,” she said, and stumbled slightly when his hold lessened.

  He caught her, and kept one arm around her while guiding her toward the village. Toward his lodge. An entirely different sensation erupted at the thought of being alone with him there.

  Chapter Eleven

  Each step toward the village sent Black Horse’s blood pounding harder, faster. The spirit of the future had been fully awakened inside him and yearned to produce descendants to walk upon this earth after his time had ended. It was expected he would have children, those who would take over in leading his band. Many leaders had more than one wife just for that reason.

  Upon killing the buffalo for the warrior, his thoughts had focused on expectations, and consequences. Poeso had been included in those thoughts. Others had expected things because he had allowed her to stay in his lodge, and he had lied. He had told Silver Bear and the others last night he would be happy to see her go. That was wrong. He would not be happy. It was wrong for him to tell untruths, both as a man and a leader of his people. They trusted him, believed what he said, and so did she.

  Hunting buffalo took much power, and at night he had needed sleep to renew it. This night, he wanted to stay awake, to enjoy the sight of Poeso, to answer her questions, to listen to the sound of her voice, which made him smile.

  He should not want that, but could not deny that he did. Other things should be on his mind. His sister. Little One’s eyes had been sad when she’d told him she would make her deci
sion to stay or leave before they moved from the hunting grounds. That had been their agreement. That the white women would remain with them while they traveled west, the same direction as California. That would end now that the hunt was over and they would turn south.

  Poeso stumbled slightly, walking beside him, and he brought her closer to his side. “Careful of rabbit holes,” he said.

  Her giggle was like music, how it filled his heart. She had learned much this past week. Much more than he had expected her to. Even One Who Heals had been amazed by Poeso’s grit and intelligence. The medicine woman had also shown sadness at the mention of the hunt ending, knowing as well that the white women would soon depart. Knowing Little One might leave with them caused great sorrow for the older woman, but he had seen how she no longer glared at Poeso. Only when Poeso was not looking. That made him smile.

  Poeso had gained trust from many, and many would miss her when she left.

  He bit the inside of his lip to keep from growling to himself. She had chosen a good name for him. Black Rabbit. He would like to find a hole and hide in it like a rabbit. Not face tomorrow. Not face tonight. Not face the people who put so much trust in him.

  He could not do that, and he could not fulfill the yearning inside him. Poeso was not his woman. If he was different, a Crow or Blackfoot, he would not care what she wanted and he would make her his, but he was not a Crow or Blackfoot. He was a great Cheyenne leader, and must follow what he had always known. What was expected of him.

  He could not force Poeso to stay. Force her to become a Cheyenne woman. Nor did he want to. She would not be happy, and that was what he desired most. For her to be happy. That was what Tsitsistas wanted. For all to be happy.

  His mind understood that. But his heart could not agree.

  The walk back to his lodge ended, and while opening his lodge flap, he hoped hunting had not used up all of his strong medicine. Going against his heart would be difficult.

  Poeso had grown silent, and upon entering, she stopped in the center of the lodge to turn around to look at him.

  Her eyes held no shine. She would not giggle again this night.

  “I—um—I—”