Raven looked at him, his expression anxious. “Brother, is something wrong?”
“Oh? Nothing; I-I just had no idea you were that serious about her.”
Raven laughed sheepishly. “I realize you don’t like her and that you’ll try to talk me out of it. I’ll also admit that at first, it was just the novelty of having such a beautiful, different girl here; one who is so educated, but she has spirit. I think there’s more to her than you understand.”
Bear had not realized how much he had been attracted to the girl himself and had been fighting it with everything that was in him. “Am I to suppose that the feeling is mutual?”
“I think so.” Raven nodded. “The way she looks at me; the way I feel when she smiles at me, as if she’s speaking to my heart.”
Bear understood that feeling well, even though he had been denying it from the first time he had seen Willow. He didn’t say anything.
Raven rushed on. “Of course, she smiles at the children that same way, but yes, I’m certain she is interested in sharing my life.”
“And well she should be,” Bear said loyally. “After all, you’re handsome and smart.”
In his mind, he saw Willow in his brother’s arms; Raven kissing her, holding her.
“And someday,” Raven said, “I will surely win some war honors like you.”
“I’m certain of it.” Bear wanted to end this conversation. “None of the men in our family was ever wounded in the back.” It was a point of honor among warriors that a brave man never turned his back on the enemy in battle to run away.
Raven frowned and Bear instantly regretted his choice of words, remembering how Raven had fled from the grizzly. “Look,” he said hurriedly, “why don’t you think it over a few months and if you feel the same way about her then—”
“No, I don’t want to wait,” Raven protested.
He tried to brush the whole discussion aside. “We have many things to do before Joseph returns; we must help get the tribe ready to move.”
“I want to take Willow with me,” Raven said. “If she truly cares about me, she will want to go with us to the new reservation, no matter what the old preacher says.”
“Then ride after her and ask her.” Bear could put his own feelings aside. He wanted his brother to be happy.
“I have no fine horses to offer and I will make a mimillu of myself, I know, when I ask.”
“I have fine horses taken in raids against our enemies, I will give you all you need.” It was ironic, maybe, that his horses provide the bride gift for the girl Bear would like to have for his own, but after all, he had to be realistic. A beautiful, spirited girl like Takseen would not want an older, scarred warrior like himself.
Raven hesitated. “I-I’m not sure what to say to her; I fear making a fool of myself. Would you go ask her for me?”
“Me?” Bear touched his chest in surprise. “I know little of women and she hates me besides.”
“But it is difficult for a warrior to praise himself; a relative can do it while the brave waits modestly for an answer.”
It was the ultimate pain, to face the girl he loved and ask her to accept another man. He could not do it. He would not do it.
In the silence, Raven waited. “Bear?”
“I-I don’t want to.” He shook his head.
“Please.” His younger brother caught his arm, pleading, “I know you two don’t like each other, but you could say nice things about me and find out her feelings. I would die of humiliation should I ask myself and she turn me down.”
Bear didn’t answer. He had never said no to his brother before and he could only pray to the gods that Raven never guessed how Bear felt about Willow himself.
“Remember you promised our mother you would look for me.” Raven was as petulant as any sulky youth.
It was not fair of him to call up that solemn pledge, Bear thought with anger. Promises and honor meant more to him than they did to Raven. “All right; I do not want to do this thing, but if it will make you happy, I will do my best in your behalf.”
Raven smiled triumphantly.
Bear smiled back, although he had to force the corners of his mouth to turn up. Yes, he could manage to do this thing. Neither of these two handsome young lovers would even guess about Bear’s own foolish fantasies in which Willow belonged to him and he held her close and kissed her lips. Perhaps they would name one of their children for their doting uncle and no one would ever know why Bear did not marry. He had a warrior’s heart; meant to be given to only one woman, and if he could not have her, he would have no other.
Raven looked nervous, but excited. “In several hours, brother, I’ll expect that you’ll be returning with good news.”
Good news for Raven, heartbreaking news for Bear. “Don’t expect too much,” Bear cautioned, “it might take some doing to convince the reverend that he wants an Indian husband for his ward.”
“If anyone can, you will,” Raven said. “All the white men respect you.”
There was no way out of this then without admitting that Bear himself cared about the girl. Raven would be shocked that Bear had ever had such a foolish fantasy and no doubt the girl would laugh if she ever found out. Very slowly, Bear saddled his fine Appaloosa, put on his best beaded buckskins and rode toward the settlement in the coming dusk. His heart felt like a lump of lead in his chest, but he would do this thing for the happiness of his brother.
Willow sat before her bedroom mirror in her dressing gown. She had just bathed and washed her hair. Now she sat brushing it, thinking about studying her teaching plans for a couple of hours before bedtime. After supper, Reverend Harlow had gone off to christen that baby and of course, he said, there would be refreshments and socializing afterward. He could not miss an opportunity like that to get more donations for the stained-glass window for the elegant church he hoped to build soon.
Willow had begged off, pleading weariness and studying her lessons. Since the whole settlement seemed to hold the opinion that educating the ignorant savages was a noble undertaking, the reverend said he thought everyone would understand.
Now she sat with her long hair cascading over her shoulders as she brushed it. The lacy flowered dressing gown was one of the few luxuries she owned.
There was a knock at the front door.
Now who could that be? she wondered. Certainly everyone in town was at the christening. Cautiously, Willow went to the window and peeked out. In the moonlight, she saw Bear’s big form.
She gritted her teeth, thinking that maybe she wouldn’t answer the door. If he had come to berate her, tell her not to come to the camp again, she didn’t intend to listen.
He knocked again.
He was as stubborn as she was herself; no doubt he had seen her lamp from outside. If she didn’t answer, he’d keep banging until the reverend returned. She pictured a scene between those two. Willow wanted Bear to be gone before there was trouble, which there would be when her guardian came home.
She opened the door. “What is it you want?”
He looked at her as if he had never really seen her before and she realized that in her haste, she still wore something not suited to greeting guests.
“I thought polite white ladies were taught better manners,” he scolded gently. “Even among savages, it is not polite to say ‘what is it you want?’ in such a rude tone as if the guest should go away.”
She felt her face sting at the rebuke from this simple warrior. “You are correct, it was very bad manners on my part; I just wasn’t expecting you. Is something wrong out at the camp?”
He was still staring at her in a way that made her feel warm all over. “No.” He shook his head. “I wish to speak with both you and your guardian.”
“Reverend Harlow is gone and won’t be back for a while. Would you care to wait?” She was mystified and wondered what business Bear had here? Certainly his face was grave enough for there to be real trouble.
“Perhaps I should leave and come another time.�
�� He half turned away as if undecided. “It is not proper for me to wait with you alone—”
“Oh, come in.” She stepped aside, gestured him inside. “If it’s an emergency, I could send for him—”
“That won’t be necessary.” He walked past her and she closed the door.
Well, fine, she thought, slightly out of sorts as they went into the parlor. He needed a minister because someone was ill or dying, but not bad enough to interrupt Harlow. That meant the two of them would have to wait in awkward silence until her guardian returned, and in the meantime, she wouldn’t be able to work on her lessons and go on to bed.
He stood in the middle of the flowered carpet and looked around at the dark Victorian furnishings. The light on the oil lamp cast shadows on his rugged face. Why had she never realized that in the strengths of those virile features, in the dark eyes lay something more than mere good looks? The thought was disconcerting.
She stared at him, amazed as always at how tall and strong he was. She was tall for a woman, but the top of her head did not reach his shoulder. She realized suddenly she must look a fool, standing here close to him, looking up at him as if she had never seen him before. “Won’t you sit down?”
“I-I don’t know. How long do you think the reverend will be?”
“I don’t know, several hours, maybe.”
“In that case, perhaps I shouldn’t stay. I’ll come back tomorrow.” He started past her toward the door and she reached out and caught his arm.
“It’s all right, you can wait for him.” She looked up at him, so close, she felt abruptly overwhelmed by the sheer size of the man and the power in that muscular arm. In her mind, she saw him picking up the burly scout, Tanner, and shaking him, almost breaking his back across Bear’s knee. Now she remembered the way his hand had closed over hers; remembered how he had swung her up in his arms like a doll and put her on his horse before him.
He didn’t move, he appeared almost paralyzed. He took a deep breath. “Your hair smells nice,” he blurted and then looked as if he feared she would laugh.
She wished suddenly that he would reach out and tangle his fingers in it, pull her closer. Her own thoughts shocked her. “Thank you, I-I just washed it.”
Now she felt like a fool. The way he was staring down at her, she suddenly remembered that he could see the swell of her breasts in the dressing gown and perhaps even the shape of her breasts and rounded hips through the thin fabric. Yet she could not force herself to move away. “What is it you come to speak to the reverend about? If it’s important, I could send a message—”
“No, it’s not important; I mean, it can wait until he returns.” She had never seen fear before on this warrior’s face; she suspected it was not an emotion he knew well. “I am not good at this; you will think me a fool.”
Could he possibly be going to ask for her in marriage? Was she insane? She and this man had not had a civil word since they had met, but still, she wasn’t sure....
He tried to pull away from the hand on his arm. “You must already think me a fool.”
“No.” She didn’t know what she thought, she was only aware of the hard muscle of his arm under her fingertips, the dark tumult of his eyes, the width of his shoulders. She looked up into his eyes, not certain about anything anymore, a little shaken and more than a little shocked.
He seemed to steel himself. “I have come to make an offer of marriage.” The words rushed out as if he had said them over and over before arriving.
“Marriage?”
He nodded, looking down at her.
Would she? Did she? Without even thinking, she ran the tip of her tongue over her half-opened lips. In her mind, Bear picked her up and carried her into a ritual lodge, began to take off the fine beaded shift she would wear.
“He will make a fine husband,” Bear blurted, not looking into her eyes as he pulled away from her. “Granted, he does not have war honors yet, but they will come. He-he needs a woman who loves him, who will give him the confidence a man needs. You would not be sorry to be his wife and carry his sons.”
It took a long moment for his words to dawn. “You are asking for me in marriage to someone else?”
His face furrowed in puzzlement. “Of course. My brother, Raven, is in love with you and sends me as his envoy to speak his piece.”
Raven; handsome, immature Raven. Why did she feel so suddenly devastated?
“Will you say yes?” He looked down at her again, and abruptly, she saw the pain in his eyes, knew the truth.
She didn’t mean to say anything, but she blurted it out without thinking; “Why don’t you speak for yourself, John?”
“What?” His expression turned baffled and she felt the blood rush to her face.
“It-it’s a famous legend,” she gulped. “A man sends his friend to ask for the hand of a girl he wants, a girl he himself is in love with, and when he asks, that’s what she said to him.”
Realization came to his eyes and he closed them, then opened them again. “I-I wouldn’t be such a fool; I know you would never want me. I’m not as handsome as Raven, I’m so much older than you, I—”
She didn’t mean to do it, but the humiliation in his voice, even though his love for her was there to read in his dark, tortured eyes made her react in a heartbeat. Willow slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
For an instant, she felt him stiffen in disbelief and she couldn’t believe it herself; she who had never kissed a man before had thrown herself against Bear in an exuberant manner, pressing herself against him, holding him close; kissing him in a way that she had always dreamed her first kiss would be. His lips were warm against hers and he smelled of wind and sun.
Abruptly, she stared up into his face, horrified at what she had done. “I-I—”
“It is my fault, I should not have come inside without the reverend here,” Bear murmured and reached to pull her arms from around his neck, but when his hands touched her arms, all he did was stand there, staring down into her eyes.
She knew she should step back, make some abject apology, escort him out, yet all she could think of was how warm and powerful his body felt against hers and how big his hands were on her arms. Regretfully, she started to move away from him, but his hands held onto her arms and she could see the inner struggle in his dark eyes.
“You don’t realize what you do to me,” he whispered. Abruptly, he jerked her to him, bent his head and kissed her, his hands sliding down her arms to grasp her shoulders, hold her tightly against him. She knew she should protest, pull away, but the strength of the man, the way he was kissing her made her so weak, her legs seemed to be buckling. She murmured and it might have been either protest or permission; she wasn’t sure herself as his arms went around her back and his mouth grew bolder.
Then the kiss deepened and she forgot propriety and everything else except the way his hot mouth claimed hers as his strong arms held her captive. He seemed to be demanding surrender and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Willow clung to him, pressing her breasts against his muscular chest, running the tip of her tongue across his lips.
Her encouragement made him even bolder as his strength dominated her. He ravaged her mouth, plunging his tongue deep between her lips as they blended together a long, long moment.
Her heart pounded in a way she hadn’t thought possible, and she could feel his racing, too. She had never experienced anything like this before, nor expected that she ever would again. No wonder the preachers all lambasted passion; it was the most heady, overpowering, intoxicating emotion she had ever felt.
Bear seemed to be struggling with his own feelings. Finally he pulled away, took a deep breath, reached to unclasp her arms from around his sinewy neck. “I must be mad, or at least without honor, to do this thing—!”
“No!” Willow protested, breathing hard. “You have done the honorable thing, spoken for Raven. But I don’t want Raven; I-I want to be your woman!”
He looked down into her face as if he could n
ot believe her, shaking his head slowly. “No, you are young, foolish. Any girl would prefer Raven; he’s handsome, he’s—”
“He isn’t you and I won’t marry him, no matter what. I’d almost rather have that silly lieutenant!” Her own words surprised her. Willow knew her breasts rose and fell in the sheer nightdress as she gasped for breath. He stared at them, his inner turmoil burning in his eyes. How could she be so bold and reckless? It was unthinkable that she should be standing here half naked, saying such things to a man; especially this virile savage. Yet she heard her own voice whispering, “Don’t-don’t go.”
“Green Eyes, you are too innocent to know what might happen if I stay.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She was playing with fire like a small child; suspecting the danger, but too fascinated by the flames to back away while there was still time. Her own being seemed consumed by heat and she couldn’t control her words. “Don’t go,” she asked again.
With a muttered curse, he turned and swept her into his embrace, holding her close against his powerful body. She knew she couldn’t stop him now if she wanted to; and she was horrified to realize she didn’t want to at all.
His kisses covered her face as he pressed her hard against him, his big hands moving up and down her slender back; the heat of them seemed to blaze through the sheer fabric. With a woman’s wiles that she did not know she knew, wiles as ancient as Eve, she pressed herself against him, kissing him deeply, encouraged by the male hardness of him brushing against her, knowing he could feel the swell of her nipples against his chest and she pressed against him all the way down their bodies. He tangled his fingers in her long hair, holding her face up to his as he ravaged her mouth.
Willow ran her hands around the open neck of his buckskin shirt, marveling at the hard muscle of him, baffled by the ridges and scars she could feel there. In the meantime, he was kissing her deeper and deeper as their passion built, his tongue caressing the interior of her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair.
Her dressing gown had fallen off one of her shoulders and she wore nothing beneath the wrap. He kissed along her neck and then her throat and collarbone. “You smell so good,” he whispered, “like a woman; all woman.”
Song Of The Warrior Page 12
