Shadow Walker

by Connie Mason

  Horned Owl lapsed into a thoughtful silence. “What you say has the ring of truth, Shadow Walker. I left my tribe because I was unwilling to settle on the reservation, but I have done nothing to bring dishonor to myself or the People. I fight for the right to live free while others accept worthless treaties that are broken time after time. I have no quarrel with you. You may leave.”

  Shadow Walker was too canny to take Horned Owl’s words at face value. The renegade wanted Dawn, and Shadow Walker realized that the situation called for diplomacy.

  “Dawn and I will leave immediately,” he said.

  Dawn was so relieved she jumped to her feet. Then she saw Shadow Walker’s stony expression and knew a moment of fear.

  “You may leave, Shadow Walker, but the woman stays. I have taken a great liking to her. I will ease myself between her thighs tonight.”

  Dawn could remain silent no longer. “No! I’m going with Shadow Walker.”

  “Be quiet, Dawn,” Shadow Walker hissed in warning. “Don’t let him know you’re upset.”

  “You’re not going to let him have me, are you?” she whispered.

  He sent her an exasperated look. “Not in a million years.” Shadow Walker knew there was only one way to save Dawn from Horned Owl’s clutches. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He could always force an armed confrontation, but that wouldn’t necessarily guarantee Dawn’s safety. He must avoid doing anything that would endanger her.

  Horned Owl sent Dawn a quelling look. “You are much too bold. I will teach you to curb your tongue.”

  “Sorry, Horned Owl, Dawn is not yours for the taking. I am well schooled in Sioux laws.”

  Horned Owl shifted his gaze to Shadow Walker. “What trick do you play, Shadow Walker?”

  “No trick, Horned Owl. Dawn is my wife. It is against Sioux law to take another man’s wife unless there is a divorce. There has been no divorce. Even now Dawn could be carrying my child.” The moment those words left his mouth he was struck by the truth of them. They had made love twice. Either time could have resulted in pregnancy.

  Horned Owl’s dark gaze swept over Dawn with an intensity that frightened her, settling disconcertingly on her stomach. “You lie!” he screeched. He didn’t like being thwarted.

  A muscle twitched in Shadow Walker’s jaw. “I do not like to be called a liar.”

  “And I do not like to be taken for a fool.”

  They stared at one another, recognizing an impasse. If Horned Owl killed Shadow Walker and took his woman, he’d bring dishonor upon himself and become an outcast among his own followers, some of whom had been friendly with Shadow Walker during his sojourn with the People. It was true that Horned Owl was a renegade, but he’d never defied Sioux laws and still considered himself one of the People.

  “You will be our guests tonight,” Horned Owl said, ending the confrontation. “I will think on what has passed between us and give you my decision tomorrow.”

  “There is nothing to decide,” Shadow Walker said, “but we accept your hospitality.” He rose abruptly. “Show us where we may sleep.”

  “Come, I will take you.” They followed him to an empty tipi a short distance away. “Yellow Dog has walked the spirit path, he no longer needs his lodge. You may sleep here tonight.”

  “Do you think he’ll let us go?” Dawn asked after Horned Owl strode away.

  “He has to. He’s not a bad man, just a hotheaded one. He refused to join Running Elk on the reservation and took a small band of Indians who believed as he did with him. He creates havoc with the soldiers by striking their columns and stealing supplies. I can’t really blame him. Indians have been driven from their homes and forced to survive on unfavorable land where game and food is scarce. Horned Owl feels that retaliation is called for.”

  “You told him we were married.”

  “I hope you don’t mind. I had no choice. I could have fought for you, but it would have served no purpose. I might have been killed, and then I’d be no good to you.”

  Dawn gave him a slow grin. “Now you’re thinking like Cole Webster. I would expect Shadow Walker to be more daring.”

  “Even a fierce warrior has to think with a cool head sometimes. It sounds like you are inordinately fond of Shadow Walker.”

  Dawn gave that statement careful thought. She had been made love to by both Cole Webster and Shadow Walker. They were inseparable in body and mind. But she had to admit she greatly admired the bold savage who claimed her as his wife. Though he had lied for a good reason, she felt a little bit resentful. Marrying her was the last thing either Cole Webster or Shadow Walker wanted.

  “From what I’ve seen, Shadow Walker is a dangerous man. But so is Cole Webster. I’d want neither man for an enemy.” And either one for a lover, she thought but did not say.

  Before Shadow Walker could form a reply, a feminine voice hailed them from outside. When Shadow Walker gave permission to enter, an elderly woman bearing a steaming bowl of venison stew ducked inside. She handed them two shallow spoons made of buffalo bone and left.

  “Are you hungry?” Shadow Walker asked as he sniffed the rich aroma rising from the bowl. Dawn nodded. “Sit down, there’s enough for us to share.”

  Dawn ate ravenously, finding the stew delicious. When they finished, Shadow Walker left to get their bedrolls, returning a few minutes later with blankets and a skinful of water.

  “Horned Owl invited me to smoke with him. I don’t want to anger him by refusing. One never knows what a hothead like him will do. I’ve brought some water so you can wash. Don’t wait up, I may be late.”

  Dawn watched him leave, wondering if she’d ever grow accustomed to Indian culture. Horned Owl seemed so fierce, so foreign. She hoped Running Elk wouldn’t be half so fierce. At least at the cabin she had known what to expect from one moment to the next.

  Dawn washed up quickly, placed the bedrolls across from one another and debated whether or not to remove her clothing. Deciding it was safe to remove her split skirt and shirtwaist, she quickly disrobed and climbed between the blankets in her shift. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

  It was very late when Shadow Walker returned to the lodge. He entered quietly so as not to disturb Dawn, shed his breechclout and moccasins and crawled into his bedroll. But sleep would not come. Today he had claimed Dawn as his wife and he wanted to do all the things a husband had a right to with a wife. Restraining his natural instincts to make love to Dawn had taken a toll on him. He couldn’t understand this aching need and liked it even less.

  After experiencing Morning Mist’s love, he found that no woman had appealed to him in the same way as his wife. An occasional coupling when the urge became too strong to resist had satisfied his male needs. Until Dawn came along, no woman but Morning Mist had touched his heart. He liked women, enjoyed them fully in every way; he just didn’t want to become attached to a woman again. It would make him feel unfaithful to Morning Mist.

  Shifting restlessly in his bedroll, Shadow Walker felt the layers of his resolve melt away. His man’s flesh had grown hard and uncomfortable, his need a raging inferno. Rising, he realized he could no longer resist the allure of Dawn’s sweet body. He stood over Dawn, staring down at her, his eyes glowing softly in the darkness. He could no more deny the passion churning within him than he could stop breathing.

  Dawn awoke with a start. She felt Shadow Walker’s presence as if he had touched her. Pale fingers of moonlight filtered through the smokehole at the top of the tipi, giving her an unrestricted view of the man looming over her. He was gloriously nude and proudly male. Every superb inch of him was hard, from his thickly muscled chest to his fully distended sex. It rose like a marble pillar from a rust-colored thicket. His legs were spread wide with typical male arrogance, and Dawn thought he’d never looked more appealing.

  Shadow Walker knew the moment that Dawn had awakened. Dropping to his knees beside her, he whispered three words that made Dawn burn.

  “I want you.”

  Daw
n had no idea what he would do if she refused; she never even considered it. She wanted him. She wanted all that he offered. On all the lonely nights to come she could pull out this memory and savor it. She held out her arms.

  “I want you too.”

  Their loving was hot, fierce, wildly intoxicating. He made her feel beautiful and wanted instead of an outlaw’s leavings. Her body thrummed to his kisses. Not an inch of her golden flesh was ignored as he used his hands and mouth to bring her to shattering climax. And when their bodies were rested, he began again. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, both aware that their time together was drawing to an end.

  Shadow Walker was gone when Dawn awakened the following morning. She dressed quickly and stepped outside. She saw him with Horned Owl. They were deep in conversation. Dawn approached them cautiously. She relaxed somewhat when she realized they were discussing the buildup of Sioux and northern Cheyenne on the Little Big Horn.

  “It’s a lost cause,” Shadow Walker argued. “If the Sioux insist upon this fight, it will be the beginning of the end of the People.”

  “Too many treaties have been violated,” Horned Owl claimed. “The recent expedition into the sacred Black Hills to seek gold is the final insult. It demands retaliation. Soon I will take my followers north to the Little Big Horn to join the great chiefs.”

  “I cannot stop you, Horned Owl. I can but advise you to remain calm.”

  “Running Elk calls you brother, but you are still a White man. Trust me to know what is best for my people.”

  “I pray that Running Elk is more willing than you to listen to reason. Are we free to go now?”

  Horned Owl gave him a sour look, still envious of his claim on Dawn. “Go. If you tire of your woman, I will take her off your hands. I can afford to be generous.”

  “That won’t happen, Horned Owl. Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “I hope you and your woman found a peaceful rest last night,” Horned Owl added, giving Dawn a sly look. “I passed your lodge in the night and heard your cries. I envy you your lusty mate.”

  Dawn made a choking sound, too embarrassed to look Horned Owl in the eye. She hadn’t realized that she and Shadow Walker had been so vocal. She felt profound relief when Shadow Walker turned her toward their tipi.

  “I didn’t know anyone had heard us,” she said, patting her flaming cheeks. “It must have been quite enlightening.”

  “Natural body functions do not embarrass Indians. Making love to one’s wife is expected.”

  “I’m not your wife,” Dawn reminded him. She turned away so quickly she missed the thoughtful look on his face.

  Later that night, as Shadow Walker made love to Dawn, he all but forgot that she wasn’t actually his wife. But he’d not forget again, he swore to himself. In a day or two they would reach Running Elk’s village, and he intended to make sure the young braves knew she was available. Dawn’s happiness was important to him. He deeply regretted his inability to give her the love she so richly deserved, but that was how it must be.

  Refusing to become involved with another woman had become an obsession with Shadow Walker. He had lived with Morning Mist’s memory too long to take another wife now. He enjoyed making love, but only if his heart wasn’t involved. He had explained all this to Dawn because he didn’t want her to draw false conclusions about their relationship. She was too sweet to tie herself to a man who could give her only a small part of himself. She deserved far better than he could offer her.

  And he did not want to risk fathering a child on Dawn. He could picture no one but Morning Mist as the mother of his children. Since that was no longer possible, Shadow Walker decided to leave producing children to his twin sister.

  Horned Owl allowed them to leave his camp without incident. Dawn didn’t relax until they had left the small village far behind. Even then she kept looking back, expecting to see Horned Owl and his band of renegades pounding after them.

  Three days later they found Running Elk’s village sitting in a valley at the western reaches of the Red Cloud Agency. Dawn was overwhelmed by the exuberant welcome extended to Shadow Walker and surprised to see how well-loved he was by Running Elk’s people. She wondered what he had done to earn their respect. Then she saw a handsome Indian approaching and knew instinctively that it was Running Elk.

  Running Elk clasped Shadow Walker’s shoulder and greeted him effusively. “Welcome, brother! Many moons have passed since I last set eyes on you. What brings you to my camp?”

  “It’s a long story, Running Elk. I seek a favor from you. But first, I’d like you to meet Dawn. Her mother was of the People. She can speak and understand your tongue, but not fluently.” He turned to Dawn. “Dawn, this is my good friend, Running Elk.”

  Running Elk searched Dawn’s face. Then he grinned at Shadow Walker. “I am pleased that you have finally taken my advice and found a woman to love. It is good. Your heart has been empty too long.”

  “No, you misunderstand. Dawn is not my woman.”

  Shadow Walker’s denial of their relationship, no matter how tenuous, struck a blow to Dawn’s pride. They had been together several weeks now. They had made love; his tenderness had been a balm to her battered body and bruised ego. He had filled the dark corners of her despair with hope. But if he didn’t want anyone to know they had been intimate, so be it. She wouldn’t burden him with her caring.

  Running Elk shifted his gaze between Dawn and Shadow Walker, astute enough to realize there was more between the couple than met the eye. Dawn was a beautiful woman. She resembled Morning Mist, yet he could see vast differences. Dawn’s eyes were mirrors into her soul. Running Elk instinctively knew that Dawn had suffered more than any woman should be made to suffer. Morning Mist had known nothing of suffering. She’d been pure of heart and mind, a loving and lovable creature. Intuition told him that Dawn had known little happiness in her life.

  “Come share my food. Spring Rain will be happy to see you.”

  “How are Spring Rain and your children?”

  Running Elk pointed out two naked boys playing nearby with a group of children. “Spring Rain is well. And the boys grow strong like their father.”

  “Have you taken a second wife yet?”

  Running Elk nodded enthusiastically. “I have joined with Spring Rain’s younger sister. Sun In The Face is already carrying my child.” He touched a brilliant strand of red hair woven among his own raven locks and smiled wistfully. “Had Flame become my wife as I wished, I would have no need for a second wife. I still wear her talisman.”

  “Unfortunately, my sister was already married. She and Tanner were meant for one another.”

  “Enough of reminiscing. Bring Dawn to my lodge. My wives will see that she is made comfortable while we talk and smoke.”

  Dawn followed enough of the conversation to know that a woman named Flame—could it be Shadow Walker’s sister?—had captured Running Elk’s heart. The story sounded intriguing, and she vowed to question Shadow Walker the first chance she got.

  “Running Elk has invited us to his lodge,” Shadow Walker told Dawn in English. “His two wives will make you welcome.”

  They followed Running Elk to his lodge, where Shadow Walker was greeted by a woman he addressed as Spring Rain. She was no longer in the first bloom of youth but was still lovely. A much younger woman came out of the tipi and shyly greeted Shadow Walker and Dawn. She was pregnant, and Dawn assumed she was Running Elk’s second wife.

  Running Elk gave instructions to Spring Rain and then invited Shadow Walker to join him as he squatted down in front of the lodge. Spring Rain brought two backrests from inside the tipi, and Sun In The Face fetched the pipe.

  “I will fix food,” Spring Rain said.

  Dawn had no idea what she was supposed to do until Sun In The Face shyly touched her arm and offered to take her to a place where she could refresh herself. Dawn’s gaze flew to Shadow Walker, and when he nodded, she walked off with the Indian woman.

  Running Elk pa
ssed the pipe to Shadow Walker, who took a deep drag of the aromatic tobacco and handed the pipe back. At length, Running Elk said, “I am curious, Shadow Walker. Why did you bring the woman to me?”

  “First I must explain about Dawn and how I came to know her,” Shadow Walker began. “Then you will understand why I seek your help.”

  Shadow Walker launched into an explanation, leaving out nothing except details of his intimate relationship with Dawn. That was between him and Dawn and no one else. But Running Elk was no fool. He understood more than he was told.

  “You feel responsible for Dawn,” Running Elk observed. “Perhaps you are not being truthful with yourself. Dawn is very beautiful. It would be easy to fall in love with her.”

  “You know there will never be another woman for me after Morning Mist. She is enshrined in my heart. Dawn deserves a man who will love her as she deserves to be loved. She has suffered pain and degradation at the hands of men. It is my hope that you will find a good husband for her.”

  Running Elk took another drag on the pipe and inhaled deeply. When he exhaled, the smoke drifted upward in a blue cloud. When it cleared, Shadow Walker was surprised to see that Running Elk was frowning. “Have I said something to displease you?” he asked.

  “I am saddened by your failure to let my sister find peace. You have kept her alive in your heart too long, my friend. She has been dead a very long time. She would want you to find happiness with another woman. Have you tried to open your heart to Dawn?”

  “I am not ready yet. Dawn understands this and accepts it.”

  Running Elk stared at Shadow Walker for several long minutes, carefully choosing his words. “Have you taken Dawn to your mat?” Despite the personal nature of the question, he expected Shadow Walker to speak openly and honestly.

  Shadow Walker flushed and looked away, refusing to answer. His silence told Running Elk what he wanted to know. “Since Dawn is a widow, there is no stigma attached to her yielding to you.”

  Shadow Walker thought it best not to divulge the state of Dawn’s virginity to his friend. Bedding a virgin and then leaving her to another would make him sound like a callous bastard.