“Yes.” Her voice quivered.
He cupped her chin, tilted her face upward, and then brushed his mouth against hers. A simple kiss wasn’t enough. His tongue lapped at her lips, begging them to part and let him in. He wanted to taste her, to rip her clothing from her ripening body, and explore every crevice of her. His hardening organ was like a hungry bear waking from a winter sleep, but Little Elk remembered his promise and reined in his passion.
Fawn opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to creep in and swirl with hers in a mating dance. A throaty moan slipped from deep within her and fueled his need to have her.
After rolling her onto her back, he knelt beside her and untied the thongs that bound her dress. The material fell from her shoulders, exposing the crest of her bosom. He grasped the tunic and inched it down, baring her breasts, then sliding the doeskin over her hips, her thighs, and past her ankles. Her paleness glowed in the semi-darkness; her long hair splayed over the bedding. His gaze devoured her while his heart pounded like Lakota drums before a buffalo hunt.
He stretched out beside her and explored her silky skin, rolling the tip of her breast between his finger and thumb. A delightful hardness replaced the soft pliant nipple. Fawn’s soft, whimpering sounds only heightened his desire, and his hand moved from the supple mounds down her flat stomach to her unexplored woman’s nest. He stroked the soft junction of curls then slipped his finger into her warm moistness.
Fawn gasped then arched her hips against his hand.
“I’ve never felt this way... never been with a man before,” she said breathlessly.
To be her first lover was an honor. He intended to be a good teacher, but her increasing excitement made restraining his passion difficult. He withdrew his finger from her velvety crevice and straddled her, then framing her face with both hands, bent and delved into her warm and welcoming mouth.
Her hips undulated against him with increasing urgency. Her fingernails dug into his back. He searched her face one more time, but saw only passion begging for release. Poised above her with his shaft hard and ready, he slipped inside her with ease.
* * *
Pain from a first joining was to be expected, but her stifled cry against the back of her hand made him ache for her. He halted, still sheathed inside her. A tear trickled down her cheek, but she flashed a week smile and embraced him. No words were necessary. The look of desire in her eyes spoke for her.
Fawn joined him in his movement, slowly at first then faster and faster until they developed the perfect rhythm. He rode her to the brink of ecstasy and pushed her over the edge.
* * *
Fawn opened her eyes and peered across the fire pit at her empty sleeping mat. The events of last night flashed through her mind. Was Little Elk lying behind her? She hesitated for a moment before glancing over her shoulder. He was gone.
At the recollection of her intimacy with him, she cried at betraying the memory of her parents. In her heart, she didn’t hold Little Elk responsible, but should she? Everything had become so confusing. How could she have made love for the first time with someone all other whites considered an enemy? Could something that felt so right be wrong?
She pushed aside the blankets and searched for her dress. The garment lay next to the fire pit where Little Elk had tossed it. She clutched the doeskin to her nude body and shook her head, still trying to make sense of her blurred thoughts. Had she really let Little Elk touch her…see her naked…make love to her? Or had it all been a dream.
Despite her disbelief, the soreness between her legs offered proof. She’d sacrificed her maidenhood.
Fawn stood and slipped the tunic over her head. The soft fabric cascaded across her skin, stoking memories of Little Elk’s caresses. Was what they did normal? Shame and embarrassment enveloped her like a fog.
She quickly straightened the mat they had shared and moved to sit on her own. Her hair hung in tangles, and she worked nimbly at braiding it, all the while trying to suppress her feelings for Little Elk. This couldn’t possibly be love, could it? She needed to talk to Green Eyes, so stood and bundled herself for the cold trek across the compound.
* * *
Fawn buried her face in her hands then glanced up through tears. “Why do I feel this way? Shouldn’t I hate Little Elk for his part in what happened to my family?”
Green Eyes inched closer to her and patted her hand. “You evidently have feelings for him… strong feelings. Little Elk was wrong to take part in the attack on your family, but he didn’t kill anyone. Hasn’t he shown in many ways how sorry he is for your pain?”
“Of course he has.” Fawn nodded. “I cannot count the times he’s said he wishes he could retrace his steps and do things differently, but he can’t.” Her voice trembled. “And now I don’t have a family.” Sobs overtook her.
Her friend gathered Fawn into her arms and stroked her hair. “Shhh, you do have a family. You have me, Lone Eagle, Little Cloud, Rain Woman… and Little Elk, if you want him.”
She rested her head on Green Eyes’ shoulder. “I do want him,” Fawn cried. “God help me, I do.”
* * *
Fawn stacked the wood she’d carried inside against the tepee wall. Talking things over with Green Eyes had helped make sense of things. The time had come for Fawn to let go of the bitterness and get on with her life. Hardening her heart against the man with whom she lived served no purpose. Besides, she’d already surrendered herself to him, heart and soul. She wanted to lie with him every night—feel his caresses and savor his kisses. Green Eyes was right. Fawn’s real family might be gone, but she still had people who loved her. She hoped Little Elk was one of them.
Bright light invaded her thoughts and the lodge interior when he entered. “Hau,” was all he said. His gaze drifted sheepishly to the floor.
Fawn took a deep breath. “Where have you been? You must have left very early?” She put the last log into place.
* * *
His chin lifted. “I took a walk. I needed to think.”
“About?”
“You and me, and what happened between us. I do not want to cause you further suffering. Please believe me.” His sincerity reflected in his eyes.
“Suffering? What happened last night was my own doing. I’ve been so lonely and confused, I needed you to hold me. I suppose what happened was natural. I don’t know.” She shook her head. “These feelings are all so new to me. I’ve never been in love before.”
“In love? With me?” His eyes widened.
She looked away. “Yes, at least I think I am. Believe me, I had a hard time admitting it to myself, especially after everything that happened to bring me here.” Her gaze locked with his. “But if missing you, wanting to be near you, and needing to hear your laughter means I love you, then I do.”
Little Elk grasped her hands and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, my Dancing Fawn. You have made me very happy.” He nuzzled her neck.
“Does this mean you love me, too?”
He held her at arm’s length and gazed into her eyes. “I hoped you would find forgiveness in your heart and want me to be part of your life forever. I promise I will always keep you safe.”
Before she could answer, he sealed his vow with a kiss that erased any doubt he had deep feelings for her.
Chapter Twelve
Fawn trudged across the compound, bundled against the weather. The winter wore on tirelessly, and neither the snow nor clusters of icicles dangling precariously from the tips of the pines excited her. Confined inside by freezing temperatures, she hungered for sunlight and warmth, but a dismal gray mask covered the sky and threatened yet another layer of white to the blanket already on the ground.
She shed her robe inside. Time spent quilling with Green Eyes and learning herbal remedies from Rain Woman helped break the monotony, but Fawn had always loved the outdoors. She knelt at the fire and envisioned the coming of spring and warmth.
Little Elk entered and stomped snow from his feet. “Hau, my woman. Build a
hearty blaze, for I am frozen.”
“Then come and thaw.” She patted a place next to her. “Where have you been for so long?”
“Teaching young braves to become good hunters. First, they have to recognize animal prints. It is important to know which creature you track. Imagine following a rabbit and finding a bear.” His laughter shook snow from his fur coat.
“I imagine that would be a shock, but how can you stand to be out in the cold for so long?”
He removed his coat and turned. “A warrior must be able to withstand the elements to prove his strength.”
“I wouldn’t make a very good one, I fear.” She forced a shiver. “Today’s lesson is over. Sit, and I’ll prepare your dinner. You have nothing to prove to me. I already recognize your strength.”
He moved to the fire and held his palms over the flame. “Hunting is not as bountiful as before the snow came. We saw many tracks today, but our bow strings were idle.”
“Tomorrow is another day. I have faith in your skills. You always manage to keep our pot full.”
Fawn’s thoughts strayed while she diced a hunk of meat and sliced the last of the prairie turnips. In a week or so it would be Christmas, or close to it. She had no idea what day of the week it was now, but her makeshift calendar in the dirt at least estimated the month. Images of holidays flashed through her mind, and tears blurred her vision but not the mental pictures: a decorated tree, gifts, a roasted turkey, browned and fresh from the oven—when they had a stove. Did the Lakota celebrate the birth of Jesus?
Blinking to clear her eyes, she turned to Little Elk. “Do you know what Christmas is?”
“I have heard Green Eyes make mention of the white man’s holiday to celebrate the birth of their great spirit.”
“That’s almost right. Christmas is the birthday of our Lord’s son, Jesus. We celebrate by giving gifts and enjoying a big family dinner.”
Leaning against his willow backrest, Little Elk crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “The Lakota honor Wakan Takan every day. We thank him for each kill we make and pray to him for the preservation of the buffalo, our lands, and our people. The white man is foolish to have only one celebration.”
Fawn glared at him. “We are not foolish. Christmas has always been a very special time for me and my family, but I guess those times are gone forever.” She lowered her head and sighed.
He straightened. “I’m sorry if I was unkind, Dancing Fawn. Please forgive me.” He inched over and lifted her chin. If you would like, I will celebrate your holiday with you.”
“Really, can we? Do you mean it?”
He smiled at her. “Yes, Dancing Fawn, you can have your special day. Tell me what is needed. What are these gifts you give to one another?”
Oh, there aren’t just gifts.” She rubbed her hands together and grinned. “We need a Christmas tree, a turkey, some decorations—”
“Inaji, stop!” Little Elk shook his head. “What tree? What decorations?”
“Papa always chopped down the biggest evergreen he could find. We popped corn and strung the kernels on pieces of thread. If we had berries, we did the same. Then we wrapped the strands around the tree. Of course, I always made a star for the very top—like the one that led the three wise men—”
Little Elk pressed his palm toward her. “I see this celebration means much to you. We shall have a Cris-a-mas, and you can tell me more about this white man’s celebration while we eat. If you do not feed me, I will surely starve.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I got so caught up in the excitement, I forgot all about dinner. I’ll get it ready right now. And, Little Elk…you are such a kind and understanding man.”
* * *
Fawn pulled her arms from beneath the warmth of the blanket and stretched. Thoughts of the upcoming holiday immediately filled her head, and she was anxious to visit Green Eyes and find out if she still celebrated Christmas. But, only slivers of light crept across the darkened sky and shone through the smoke hole and far too early. Fawn hugged herself with excitement and etched a plan for the festivities in her mind.
Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that Little Elk would want his breakfast soon. He still slept peacefully next to her. In anticipation of the cold, Fawn gritted her teeth, threw aside her heavy blankets, and rose. She scurried to the wood stacked beneath the hanging parfleches, added an armful of logs to the waning embers in the fire pit, and with added buffalo chips, soon had flames dancing beneath her cook pot.
As she readied the ground meal for corn cakes, she paused and covered her mouth. Her stomach churned, and she suddenly became lightheaded. A horrible taste of bile rose in her throat, and she gagged. She feared retching and clutched her belly.
Still, Little Elk needed to eat, and maybe something for breakfast would make her feel better. With her lips locked together, she added the corn meal to the boiling water and stirred until it turned into a thin paste. After removing the pot from the fire, she spooned two bowls full then added a generous dollop of honey to each. The wave of nausea passed, and her stomach rumbled with hunger.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she called. “Your morning meal is ready.”
A soft moan escaped his lips, and he peered at her through half-lidded eyes. He combed his fingers through his unruly hair, brushing back the strands that hung in his face. Propping himself on his elbows, he blinked several times. “It is early. The sky is not yet light.”
“True.” She smiled at his child-like whining. “I was so excited about Christmas I couldn’t sleep. I can’t wait to talk to Green Eyes about our plans.”
His brow dipped. “Maybe it would be best to keep our celebration from the rest of the tribe.”
“Whatever for?”
“I am not sure how the people would feel about knowing we plan to honor a white man’s special day.”
His allusion to the strained relations between the Indians and her people came through loud and clear. She nodded. “I understand and promise I won’t tell anyone but Green Eyes.”
“Good. Now, what have you fixed for me?”
* * *
Breakfast brought back the queasiness, but again it quickly subsided, so Fawn ventured out. Halfway to Green Eyes’ lodge, the urge to vomit returned, only this time stronger. Food rose in Fawn’s throat, leaving a sickening taste in her mouth. She contemplated turning back, but instead braced herself against a tree and waited for the sickly feeling to pass. It did, and she hurried on to her friend’s tepee, her thoughts only on the biggest pine tree with all the trimmings.
Green Eyes, responding to Fawn’s call, opened the flap and motioned for her to enter. “Timaì? hiyuìwo. Oh, I mean, come in.” She lapsed into English. “Come in before you freeze. Warm yourself by the fire. “Fawn stood shivering next to the welcoming flames in the fire pit. “Ah, warmth. It is so cold outside, but what can you expect when it’s almost Christmas?”
Green Eyes’ smile broadened, and she sat. “Funny, I was just recalling the first winter I spent with the people. Did you know that Little Cloud was born on Christmas Day?”
Fawn plopped down on the floor next to her. “No, I had no idea. Then surely you and Lone Eagle must celebrate that day.”
“We did the first year, but we haven’t since.”
“Why not?”
“Celebrating alone is just not the same. The first year we enjoyed Christmas together, but the occasion is not one we can share with the tribe. They would not understand. I hold onto my fond memories of childhood holidays, but I have joined my tribe in honoring our Heavenly Father every day, not just one.”
“How strange, you set aside your own beliefs to lessen the confusion. This morning Little Elk asked we do the very same thing. But, he’s allowing me to have Christmas in our lodge—just the two of us. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone else except you.”
“Then you should honor your word. Let the day be a special time between you and Little Elk like it was for me and Lone Eagle nine years ago.” She lowered her gaze. “I
cannot believe my son is getting so old. I had hoped to have more children by now.”
“Why haven’t you?” Fawn realized the question was inappropriate and bit her lip. “Forgive me for being rude. I shouldn’t have asked something so personal.”
“I do not mind. We are friends. I have tried all the tonics and teas Rain Woman has offered, but nothing works. Maybe I was meant to have only one child.”
A wave of nausea hit Fawn again. She held her stomach and grimaced at the nasty taste in her mouth.
Green Eyes touched her arm. “Is something wrong? The color has left your face.”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling poorly all morning. I think perhaps the stew I prepared last night didn’t sit well on my stomach.”
“Perhaps.”
Fawn raised a brow. “Why do you sound so doubtful?”
“Could be because I recognize the symptoms.”
Fawn cocked her head. “Then you’ve had bad stew before, too?” The amused look on her friend’s face didn’t provide an answer, just confused Fawn even more.
* * *
Dancing Fawn worked on Little Elk’s Christmas gift. Flames crackled within the uneven stone ring and made the air almost too warm. She inched away and sought the comfort of her backrest. His woven willow seat sat empty next to her, and she wondered how long he’d be gone. While he and several others had ventured to the far side of the valley in search of game, she took advantage of his absence to complete his surprise.
Using her newly acquired skills, she planned to give him a new deerskin shirt adorned with beads she had earned by helping other women with their laundry. Secretly, before she even thought of Christmas, she had stashed the biggest deer hide from one of his successful hunts, and whenever he wasn’t around, she worked at scraping and softening it. She finished the sewing and now worked on adding the colored baubles.
Dancing Fawn Page 9
