Rain Song did not know that many young warriors had noticed her and sought to take her as their woman. She knew nothing of the many offers of marriage Broken Lance had turned away because Tall Woman had insisted on it. She was waiting for Wind Warrior to claim Rain Song.
“Some would say Wind Warrior has waited longer than most young warriors to choose his woman. There must be a reason,” Tall Woman said.
Fire Wolf tugged at Rain Song’s hand, and she smiled down at him. “It might be that he does not wish to marry at all.”
“I believe he has already made his choice,” Tall Woman said. “If we wait, no doubt we will find out who that fortunate maiden is.”
Sighing, Rain Song let go of her brother’s hand and quickly rebraided her honey-gold hair, placing a cluster of beads near the crown of her head.
So she did care how she looked today, her mother thought, smiling to herself. Rain Song still faced jealousy from some of the other maidens, but she was well received by the older members of the tribe. When Wind Warrior’s father, White Owl, lay dying last winter, he had asked that Rain Song come to his tipi and sing to him. The old man had died with a smile on his face and the sound of Rain Song’s sweet music in his ears.
Rain Song stared down at her brother, who was waiting not so patiently for her to take him outside. Lifting an empty water jug, she took Fire Wolf’s hand and smiled down at him. “You can play with your friends if you do not go near the horse races. It is too dangerous.”
Her brother grinned up at her, his dark eyes dancing. “You know you are the real love of my life, don’t you?” she told him.
He giggled and nodded. “You do love me so much.”
“Yes. So much.”
Tall Woman moved past Rain Song and stepped through the tipi opening, knowing her daughter was following. “Go, join those your own age. I would have you enjoy this day.”
Rain Song was lost in thought as she led Fire Wolf toward the river. Absentmindedly she watched the child pull away from her and run in the direction of his friends, who were playing beside the river. Though Rain Song would not admit it even to herself, she was every bit as aware of Wind Warrior as any of the other maidens—maybe even more so. She was just better at hiding her feelings than the others were. She hoped.
White Wing called to her and ran to catch up. Her eyes were dancing with excitement. “I have great joy. Falling Thunder has asked that I be his woman and my father has agreed.”
Smiling, Rain Song pressed her friend’s hand. “I know how long you have looked upon him with favor. I am happy for you.”
White Wing searched Rain Song’s face. “Have you heard who is arriving today?”
Cautiously Rain Song nodded, hoping her friend would not read the eagerness in her expression. Wind Warrior had been right when he had advised her to confront White Wing. Of course, it had taken two different confrontations to accomplish the feat. The very next day after Rain Song had shoved White Wing in the river, the girl had cornered her once more, yanking so hard on Rain Song’s braid, it had brought tears to her eyes.
Rain Song would never forget that day: In anger and frustration she had spun around and landed a punch in White Wing’s stomach that sent the girl to her knees. After that, White Wing avoided her for a time. Then one day she sought her out and asked if they could walk together. Rain Song had been struck dumb when the girl asked if they could put the past behind them. Since that day they had been friends.
“I have heard Wind Warrior will be arriving. It is all anyone talks about.” Rain Song glanced at her friend, who was a very pretty girl with long black hair and equally black eyes. She had a broad forehead and a small nose. Today she wore a white doeskin gown and had braided her hair with beads and feathers. “You look very nice. Falling Thunder will certainly think so.”
Walking beside Rain Song, White Wing sighed. “I once thought only of Wind Warrior, but he never noticed me, except the time he was furious with me for taunting you.” She smiled. “Yet he is still pleasant to look upon. Do you not agree?”
“Yes,” Rain Song said hesitantly.
“I have heard he has already chosen a wife. She is not likely to be anyone we know, or we would have seen him courting her.”
Pain stabbed at Rain Song’s heart. If Wind Warrior took a wife, she would never be allowed to talk to him. By now they had reached the river and Rain Song knelt to fill the water jug before answering. “My mother also believes he has already chosen his wife.” It had been a foolish hope to think Wind Warrior would choose her.
“No one can imagine who the fortunate maiden might be. I asked Falling Thunder if he knew, but if he does, he would not tell me. I have not seen Wind Warrior pay extra attention to any maiden in our village. Perhaps he has chosen a woman from another tribe.”
Rain Song swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You are probably right.”
White Wing looked worried. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but I do not know how you will take it. I do not want you to think I am meanspirited as I was in the past.”
“You are my friend. You may say anything to me.”
Pausing, undecided, as if she were measuring her every word, White Wing finally said, “I want to warn you about Dull Knife.”
Even after all this time, just the sound of that man’s name frightened Rain Song. She had told no one except her mother about the clash between the two brothers when Dull Knife had stabbed Chinook. She might not have told Tall Woman either if her mother had not questioned her about the wolf’s wound. Rain Song had said nothing, however, about Dull Knife’s attack on her because Wind Warrior had allowed him to live, and her father would have demanded his death had he known.
She shivered. “I detest Dull Knife. I always have.”
“With good reason. My brother told me Dull Knife is determined to have you for his woman.”
Rain Song paled. “I will never allow him to come near me. There have been times when he…came too close to me. I will never allow him to do so again.”
“You must be careful never to be alone with him,” White Wing warned. “You must be aware that he has an ally who wants to see you suffer.”
Raising an eyebrow, Rain Song replied, “At one time that could have been half the village.”
White Wing grinned at her. “Not anymore. You are one of us now.” Then she gripped Rain Song’s arm. “Do not take this warning lightly. I believe there is someone else who wishes you harm.” White Wing looked at her with a worried expression. “Spotted Flower. I saw her this morning.”
Shaking her head, Rain Song frowned. “I am not afraid of her. And I believe she will be too ashamed to face me.”
“She does not know what shame means—she only knows bitterness and the need for revenge. You do know she blames you for her banishment.”
“She has always blamed me for everything. It is her way.”
“From the first she was trying to cause you hurt. It pains me to remember that once I chose her friendship over yours.”
“Do not speak of it. As for Spotted Flower, I believe she despises me because I remind her of her old life. She lost so much when she was taken away from her family, and the bitterness always ate at her.”
White Wing blinked her eyes. “Why should you make excuses for her? She lost no more than you did.” White Wing was quiet for a moment. “Grief sometimes twists a person’s thinking, and so does jealousy. I admit there was a time I was jealous of you. But knowing you has taught me true friendship.”
The two young maidens watched as several men wearing buffalo masks danced around others who waved their lances at them. The beating of the drums and the high-pitched sound of the wooden flute wound its way through Rain Song’s thoughts. “My mother has said that when the heart is twisted, the mind is also twisted.”
White Wing nodded in agreement. “When I saw Spotted Flower this morning, she was huddled with Dull Knife. I heard him speak your name, and I came to warn you. I do not know if they plan anything, I onl
y know you should be careful.”
“Thank you for telling me this. I will be careful.”
“Dull Knife is ambitious and would like to have the chief’s daughter for his woman.”
Rain Song watched as a group of warriors rode through the village, with Dull Knife in the lead. “I do not want to see him,” she said, moving away from the river. “I have chores I must do for my mother.” With that excuse, she lost herself in the crowd of people watching a horse race.
Chapter Eighteen
It had been a difficult decision for Spotted Flower to decide on attending the rendezvous. Those of the Blood Blackfoot who knew her and knew what she had done shunned her the moment they saw her.
But there was something Spotted Flower needed to do, and to accomplish that, she must endure hatred and rejection. There were several people she hoped to avoid, such as Charging Bull and Tall Woman. She didn’t care if she saw Rain Song; in fact, she hoped she would see her so she could brag that she was no longer a prisoner.
Spotted Flower’s heart had almost stopped when she’d approached Dull Knife earlier. He was the one she had come to see. Her plans wouldn’t work unless she could ensnare him. Failing that, she would be forced to spend the rest of her life with the French trapper, Claude Bernard. Claude wasn’t a bad man, although he was not a young man. But unlike Charging Bull, who had taken what he wanted from her and gave her no pleasure, Claude had taught her many things in his bed, and she liked the things he did to her. He had given her a place to live and most of the time he was in the mountains trapping.
She slowed her footsteps, glancing over her shoulder to see if Dull Knife was following her. Earlier, she had whispered to him that she needed to meet with him in private.
She saw no sign of Dull Knife.
Maybe he wouldn’t come at all.
If her plan failed, if he ignored her, then she would never find her way back to Fort Benton and home.
She didn’t expect to receive a warm welcome back at Fort Benton, but from there she could join a wagon train to California. She wanted a new life, and to live where no one had ever known she had been an Indian prisoner.
Her life had been hard when she was driven out of the Blackfoot village. She was almost dead from hunger and exposure when she happened upon a French trading post. In a land where there were no white women, she became very popular. Then Claude had come into the trading post and she had left with him the very next day.
Reaching the wooded area, Spotted Flower took the left path that led to the place where she had pushed Rain Song over the cliff. It was secluded, and that would suit her purpose.
She heard footsteps behind her and knew Dull Knife had followed her. Staring into angry black eyes, she almost lost her nerve.
“What do you want of me: Speak quickly or I will drive my knife into your heart for the way you betrayed me.”
“How can I make amends?” she asked him. She knew better than to try to convince him she had not planned Rain Song’s death. “Ask anything of me and I will do it.”
He gripped her arm and twisted it behind her back, causing pain to shoot up her shoulder. “You have nothing I want,” he snarled. “You were of little help to me when you set the prairie on fire. When you allowed yourself to be caught, the shame that was supposed to fall upon my brother fell on you.”
“I know.”
“Did you think I would not remember how you betrayed me? Look for your death.”
“Wait,” Spotted Flower said, holding out her hands. “No one knows you are the one who asked me to set the fire.”
Dull Knife’s eyes narrowed. “But you could still tell my brother, or the council. As long as you live, you are a threat to me.”
He backed her against a tree trunk and the strength went out of her legs. “I would never tell anyone.” She licked her lips, watching one hand move to the handle of his knife, while the other one clamped around her throat.
“The dead cannot speak.”
Spotted Flower knew she had to act quickly; she only had moments to live. Reaching out, she slid her hand down his leg and stroked between his thighs. “I have spent the last two years with a French trapper and he taught me many ways to please a man. Would you like me to show you what I have learned?”
When Dull Knife’s eyes widened, she slid her hand inside his leggings. He was startled, and released his hold on her neck, so she dared to go further, sliding her hand around the swell of him.
When Spotted Flower heard his breath catch in his throat, she became even bolder. Going down on her knees, she slid his leggings aside, exposing him. When he dropped his knife, throwing his head back, she proceeded to show him what Claude had taught her.
Hearing Dull Knife’s breath come out in a hiss, Spotted Flower felt joy—she had him!
Dull Knife gasped, leaning heavily against the tree.
Poor fool, she thought. No woman has ever done to him what I am now doing.
It pleased her to watch him shudder in release. His fingers dug into the tree and he clamped his mouth shut to keep from crying out. It didn’t matter that she was no beauty like Rain Song; she could make a man remember her long after the lovemaking had ended, and leave him begging for more.
Claude had taught her well.
When Dull Knife could catch his breath, he jerked her up, shoving her gown past her waist. Spotted Flower wrapped her legs around him and bent to touch her mouth to his. She felt his surprise when she thrust her tongue into his mouth, introducing him to still another new sensation. He was breathing hard as she took his passion beyond where he had ever gone.
When it was over, he could hardly stand, or catch his breath. His hand was trembling as he reached for her. “I despise you for what you are, but I will have you do that to me again.”
“Now?” She could hardly catch her breath. She had long desired him and she had not been disappointed in the way he had made her feel.
“No. You will go to my tipi and wait for me there.”
Spotted Flower smiled to herself. He had just learned something new, and she would use his growing hunger against him.
He shook her so hard, her head snapped back. “You will stay with me until I send you away.”
“Someone might see me.”
Dull Knife stared at her. “You are clever. Come under cover of night. I will have you do those things to me again.”
She smiled, leaning toward him and pressing her mouth to his. He gasped when she jabbed her tongue inside.
Dull Knife tore his lips from hers. “Leave now. I want no one to see us together.”
At that moment he wanted Spotted Flower more than he had ever wanted any woman. Breathless, he stared at her. “You are the best I have ever had,” he said reluctantly.
She pulled her gown down, smiling. Testing her power over him, she rubbed her tongue along his lips, delighted when he groaned once more. “I will be waiting for you,” she told him.
Spotted Flower found Claude and pulled him aside. “Dull Knife is just where I want him.”
“I discreetly asked around and discovered Dull Knife brought many fine furs into the village. Will he let you near enough to take them?” the Frenchman asked.
“Of course,” she said, swinging her hips. “He said to come to him after dark.” She gazed up at the early afternoon sun. “But I believe I shall go to his tipi now.”
Claude laughed. “You are like no other.”
“And you taught me well.”
He looked at her questioningly. “We will meet as we planned?”
Spotted Flower nodded. “Yes. I give you the skins and you lead me to Fort Benton.”
Spotted Flower had no trouble sneaking into Dull Knife’s tipi. He wasn’t there, but she had not expected him to be with the games going on. She dropped to her knees and ran her hand over a very fine beaver skin. There were two huge stacks of valuable skins. Certainly there were enough to satisfy Claude, and even extra for her to keep for her own needs.
She reached fo
r the bag at her waist, smiling. Peyote, a plant the Blackfoot used in vision quests. It would muddle the mind, and mixed with the wine Claude had given her, it would surely render Dull Knife helpless.
Dull Knife entered a moment later, surprised to find her already there, but his dark eyes immediately filled with anticipation.
“Take your clothing off.”
She dropped her gown, and stood before him naked.
“Take yours off,” she said, swinging her hips and walking slowly toward him.
Spotted Flower did not anticipate any trouble from Dull Knife. Her most immediate problem would be sneaking the furs out of camp without being discovered.
She would save the wine and peyote mixture until dark because it would be easier to make her escape under cover of night, especially if Dull Knife was unconscious.
There would be so many people wandering about, socializing and listening to stories of the day’s contests, surely no one would notice her.
She hoped.
Chapter Nineteen
When Rain Song finally returned to her family’s tipi, she stopped in her tracks. Wind Warrior was standing outside talking to Broken Lance, his expression grim.
With her heart beating faster, she ducked her head and quickly moved inside, fearing Wind Warrior would see how his presence disturbed her.
As Tall Woman watched Rain Song, she noticed the turmoil brewing inside her daughter, and knew the reason for it. Reaching for a stack of sweet cakes, she handed them to Rain Song. “Deliver these to Yellow Bird—she is expecting them.”
Rain Song met Tall Woman’s eyes, and mouthed the words “Thank you.”
To Rain Song’s surprise, Wind Warrior was still speaking to her father when she left the tipi. She moved to step around him, but his words stopped her. “I will walk with you, if you do not mind.”
With her heart accelerating, Rain Song could not find her voice—she glanced at Broken Lance, expecting him to object, but he merely smiled and nodded. She made the mistake of raising her head and looking right into Wind Warrior’s eyes, which were as dark and mysterious as ever.
Wind Warrior (Historical Romance) Page 13
