by HELEN HARDT
“But why not build a cabin? Surely that would serve your purpose just as well.”
“Because the tipis can be taken down and transported easily.”
“Why would that matter?”
“We follow the buffalo, tehila. When they leave an area, so do we. The buffalo provide us with meat, fur, hide. We go where they go. And then there are other times when…” His deep voice trailed off with words unsaid.
“What, Raven?”
“Sometimes we leave to avoid conflict with the white men.”
Ella’s stomach clenched, and she gripped Raven’s forearm harder. Those black eyes that speared into her no doubt knew what the white people had done—were still doing—to them. And she was one of them.
“Why, Raven? Why do you leave? Why don’t you fight the white men?”
“Some tribes do. Our chief, Black Wolf, is my grandfather. He chooses to exist in peace. He would rather leave than lose his people to a fight they cannot win.”
Ella’s stomach lurched again. Raven’s people would despise her. “Can’t we go away together, Raven? To a place where we’ll both be accepted for who we are?”
“If I knew of such a place, tehila, I would take you there. I would hunt for you and our children, and I would need nothing more than your love to sustain me.” He sighed, and his warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “But such a place does not exist for us. Fear not. My people will accept you.”
Again the piercing stares stabbed Ella’s prickled skin. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Trust me.” He pressed a moist kiss to the side of her neck. “I have already told my father that I found you. Love is a mystery. A beautiful mystery that only the Great Spirit understands. My people will accept you, because I have accepted you as the mate of my spirit.”
Wandering Bear edged his horse nearer. “I see your wife is attracting attention.”
Raven replied to Bear in words Ella didn’t understand, and then said, “I will take you to my tipi.”
“Shouldn’t we meet your father first? Or your mother? I really should pay my respect to them. Or…oh goodness, I’m afraid I don’t know the correct etiquette for this situation. My mother would be mortified. She prided herself on teaching me how to behave in any circumstance, but I fear she neglected this one.”
Raven’s husky chuckle hummed in Ella’s ears. “My mother and father can wait. Bear will tell them we are here. For now, I will take you to my tipi.”
“But why?”
“You know why, tehila. I can wait not one minute longer to hold you, make love to you.”
Ella trembled, and her skin rippled with awareness as she recalled the passion of their first joining.
She couldn’t wait a minute longer either.
* * *
Colored triangles and a painting of a raven covered the door flap to Raven’s tipi.
“This is the place I’ve been assigned in the tribal circle, tehila.” He pointed to a lodge with a bear painted on the door cover. “That is Bear’s. Farther down is my parents’ lodge. My sister, Singing Dove, lives with them.
“I’m anxious to meet all of them,” Ella said. She shivered inside. She was anxious—afraid and anxious. She hoped her pulse would settle down when the time came.
As nervous as she was, her pulse raced now for a different reason. Raven helped her off his horse—Golden Feather was his name—and tied him to a post in back of the tipi. He led Ella through the colorful opening.
Inside, to the left of the doorway, lay a stack of firewood. In the middle of the dwelling, round gray stones surrounded a fireplace. Directly across from the opening was a bed covered in buffalo furs.
There, she and Raven would make love. Her heart sped, and she smiled. “I love it here. It’s so cozy.”
He grinned, and his raw male beauty tugged at her belly. So handsome, her Indian husband, with his bronze skin, full dusky lips, and hard muscled body.
“I am glad you like it,” he said, taking her arm and leading her to the left, around in a circle. “When we have children, we will have a bigger lodge, but for now, this will do well for us.”
“It’s so interesting, to live in a circle. I’ve always lived in a cabin, which is square.”
“The circle represents the earth beneath the heavens,” Raven said. “The walls of the tipi represent the sky, and the poles that hold the tipi up are pathways that link us with the Great Spirit.”
Ella’s cheeks warmed. “I never thought of my home in quite such a reverent way, Raven. That’s beautiful.”
“We give thanks to the Great Spirit with all that we do, including the tipis we live in,” Raven said. “It is our way.”
“It’s a very good way. A home should be sacred. All about our lives should be sacred. Our lives are a gift from God. Too many people forget that.” Ella gazed into Raven’s dark, mesmerizing eyes. They burned. For her. “I think I will like living with your people. I like your philosophy.”
“Fil-ah-so-fee?”
“Your way of explaining things. It makes me feel warm inside. It makes…sense.” She smiled. “I wish I could say it in a prettier way. I’m afraid words aren’t my strong suit. I was never very good at composition in school. I was better with numbers.”
“I think you use words very well, my tehila.” He pulled her close, his gaze burning into hers. “Right now, there are only three words I want to hear from you, and I will say them first. Techi’ hhila. I love you, Ella.”
Her skin heated and prickled, as though a blazing inferno burned in the fireplace in the center of the dwelling. But the fireplace was bare. Only Raven’s nearness scalded her. He moved closer and touched his forehead to hers. Energy—so palpable Ella could almost see it—crackled between them. Raw, feral, and steaming. Raven lowered his head and took her lips in a scorching kiss. She sighed into his questing mouth—he tasted dark and dangerous, but also like home. Sweet, soothing home.
His calloused fingers stroked her cheeks, cupped them, and he devoured her with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. His moan hummed into her, and she responded with her own sighs of desire.
Her body blazed, and her clothes were suddenly an encumbrance. She wanted to fling them off, touch her naked body to his, lose herself in his raw male power until her soul became part of him.
She whimpered when his mouth trailed from hers and pressed moist kisses to her cheek, then below her ear.
“The words, tehila,” he whispered, his breath hot against her flesh. His fingers crept down her cheeks, her neck, to cup and squeeze her full breasts. “Say the words.”
Ella’s insides spiraled and her mind whirled. Raven’s hard muscled forearms felt glorious under her fingertips. Her hands traveled upward, over his broad shoulders and down the solid plane of his chest. His nipples hardened under her touch, and the rapid beat of his heart thundered against her palm.
The words. He wanted words. She stroked his chest, raised her hands to his beautiful masculine face, and caressed his chiseled jawline. She met his dark gaze with what she hoped was a look filled with joy and love. Love for her husband, her soulmate, the man who completed her. The man who stood before her, desiring her, needing her, loving her with all he was.
She swallowed, hoping with everything inside her that he understood how much he meant to her. How much she wished to give him. “I love you, Silver Raven. I love you, my wonderful, handsome, honorable husband. As long as I breathe, I’ll never love another.”
“Ella.” He whispered her name as if in prayer, slowly undressed her and then himself. The afternoon sun shone through the thin buffalo hide. Her nakedness was not veiled by the dark of night this time, but Ella felt no shame. The contrast of her rosy skin with Raven’s bronze beauty stole her breath and held her spellbound. His arousal stretched toward her, and her arm twitched with the urge to reach for it.
Raven let out a long breath. “You are beautiful, my wife.”
He touched her breast, and one finger traced a lazy circle around h
er pebbled nipple.
Ella sucked in a gulp of air. Such a tiny touch, but sensation blazed through her. Raven led her to the bed, pulled the buffalo skin aside, and gently laid her down.
Beside her, he caressed every inch of her skin and covered her with teasing kisses. Ella writhed as the place between her legs grew moist and pulsed with need. When he touched her there, fingering her wetness, she whispered, “please.”
One thick finger entered her, and she sighed at the pleasure.
“Raven?”
“Hmm?” He brushed his lips lightly over hers.
“I… That is, I want to touch you.”
“You may touch any part of me, tehila.”
“Even your…?”
“Especially that part.” His raspy laugh tickled her neck.
With awkward timidity, Ella extended her arm and brushed her fingers against his arousal. He moaned.
She jerked away. “I’m sorry.”
“No, tehila. It feels nice.”
“But you…”
He chuckled. “That means it feels good. I want you to touch me.”
He took her hand in his and led it back to his shaft. With his hand still covering hers, he showed her how to hold him and stroke him. The solid hardness, so warm to her touch, enraptured her. She wanted to kiss it, pleasure him with her mouth as he had her that first night under the stars.
But that would come later, because he rolled his body on top of hers with a breathy gasp. “I need you, Ella. I need to join with you.”
“Yes, please, Raven.” Her body pulsed with awareness. “I need you, too.”
He entered her with a swift thrust, and a sigh escaped Ella’s throat. Ah, so wonderful, so complete. Her whole body quaked as he pushed into her, and she cried out as the world exploded around her.
“Raven! I love you, Raven.”
“I love you, Ella, my tehila.” With one last thrust, he groaned and crushed his mouth to hers, enfolding her in a protective shield of love.
“I love you,” she whispered again. “Forever, Raven. Forever.”
As she closed her eyes and snuggled up to her husband’s loving warmth, a wayward thought niggled at her and a chill crept along her neck.
Her father would come for her. It was only a matter of when.
Chapter Twelve
“Tehila, I present my father, Standing Elk.”
Ella’s knees buckled, but she forced herself to remain steady. The Indian, a handsome older version of Raven, nodded to her.
“My son speaks highly of you. It is an honor to welcome you to our village. May I present my father, Black Wolf, the chief of our band.”
Black Wolf’s white hair hung in two long braids. His black eyes were sunken and wrinkled, but kind. “Welcome, wife of Silver Raven,” he said.
“Th-Thank you, sir.” Ella’s voice wavered as she held out her hand.
“Damn it!” A voice came from outside the tent.
A familiar voice. A voice Ella had never before heard use a profane word. “You heathen redskins let me see my daughter or I swear I’ll send your souls straight to hell.”
The flap of buffalo hide swished open.
“Papa!” Ella gasped.
Raven gripped her shoulders and moved in front of her, shielding her body with his.
But it was Standing Elk who spoke. “Robert Morgan. After all these years, we meet again.”
Her father’s amber eyes widened and he dropped the rifle he held to his side. “You’ve got to be kiddin’ me.”
“You do not remember our first meeting?” Standing Elk walked toward him stealthily, shielding Raven and Ella, and extended his hand.
Did Indians shake hands? Ella wasn’t sure. Her father didn’t take Standing Elk’s hand, though, and as Ella watched their interlude, she realized Raven’s father wasn’t asking for a handshake. It was a signal of friendship. Of peace.
Would her father accept? Questions jumbled in Ella’s mind. How did Standing Elk know her father? Her mother had said Indians had been kind to them once. She shivered against Raven’s hard body, gulped, and hoped with all her heart that Standing Elk and his band had been those Indians. If not…
“Yes”—her father lowered his head, but only slightly—“I remember.”
Standing Elk’s hand dropped to his side. “You are well?”
“As well as I can be. My wife and I want our daughter.”
Her father's gaze burned into her. She held tighter to Raven.
Standing Elk nodded. “I understand.”
Raven stepped forward, but Standing Elk gestured for him to remain still.
“It is not easy when a child leaves your home. But I assure you, my son loves your daughter and will take care of her. He will protect her and provide for her. He is a strong and able warrior.”
“He’s not her kind.”
Standing Elk nodded again. “What is kind, Robert Morgan? His skin is darker. His clothing is different. But the two young people love each other. My grandmother was a white woman and she loved her Indian husband.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you know.”
“He took her. You people just take what you want. It’s not our way.”
“That’s not true!” Ella stormed from behind Raven to face her father’s defeated gaze. “He didn’t take me. I went with him willingly.”
“Quiet, Ella!” Her father’s voice thundered through the thick tension in the tipi.
Protective instinct rose within Ella. The hair on her skin bristled, chilling her. Like a she-bear defending her mate. “No, Papa. I’ll not be quiet. This is my life you’re deciding. Shouldn’t I have some say in it? I love Raven. I want to be with him. I know it won’t be easy. Every marriage has hardships. If we love each other, we can get through them.”
“You’re too young.”
“I’m eighteen! Mama told me she was only nineteen when she married you. And she told me other things, Papa. How you kidnapped her while you were running from the law. Raven did not kidnap me. I came of my own accord. This is where I want to be.”
“Your mother should not have told you how we met. It’s… Well, it wasn’t a normal courtship, I’ll grant you that. But that’s in the past. This is the present. Your mother needs you, Ella.”
“No.” Ella stood her ground, though her heart pounded against her breasts. “She’ll let me go. She told me so. You can’t hold onto me forever to ease your loss of David. It’s been fifteen years. You need to let your son go.”
“He wasn’t just my son. He was your brother.”
“I’m sorry, Papa.” Ella sniffed back a tear. Not for David, but for her parents. “I don’t remember him. I was too young. I ache for your loss. Truly I do. But I can’t take his place for the rest of my life. My life is here now, with the man I love.”
Her father sighed and lifted his gaze to Raven. “You are called?”
“Silver Raven.”
“Silver Raven.” His gaze shifted to Standing Elk. “This is the child I remember?”
“Yes.”
“Raven?” Ella tugged at his arm. “I don’t understand what they’re talking about.”
“I don’t either, tehila.” He turned to his father. “Father?”
“You are too young to remember,” Standing Elk said. “You had seen three or four winters. Robert Morgan brought his woman to us. She had been shot. Summer Breeze healed her.”
“Papa?”
“It’s true, Ella. Your mother would have died otherwise. I owe these people more than I can ever repay.” He sighed, and his rifle dropped to the soft dirt floor of the tipi. “I never thought payment would be my only child.”
Ella warmed, and she couldn’t help smiling. These had been the kind Indians. But so many questions haunted her. Her father had his own reasons for hating Indians, her mother had said. Reasons other than her brother’s kidnapping?
“I told you then,” Standing Elk said, “and I tell you now. We do not ac
cept payment for what we have a duty to give.”
“I’m not payment for anything, Papa.” Ella’s hands whipped to her hips as determination burned within her. “I’ll not be treated as such. I’ve said before, I’m here of my own volition. This is where I want to be.”
Her father’s lips twitched. Was that a smile? At least the beginning of one? “You’re the spittin’ image of your mother at your age, darlin’. So beautiful and feisty.”
“Thank you. That’s a wonderful compliment, Papa.”
“What will I tell your mama?”
“You’ll tell her what she already knows. That I’ve found the man I love and I intend to marry him, live here with him, take care of him, and bear his children. This is the life I was meant to lead, Papa. Where is Mama, anyway?”
“She’s outside the village with the wagon and team. I didn’t want her to come here with me. I wasn’t sure it’d be safe.”
“You are safe here, Robert Morgan,” Standing Elk said.
“Yes,” Ella said. “Please go find Mama. I want to see her. I want her to meet my husband.”
“Your husband? You have already married?”
“Not in our way, Papa, but in his. But I would like to marry in our way, also. Would you…marry us?”
Her father’s amber eyes glistened. Tears? She’d never in her life seen her father cry. He didn’t now, though she could see the tears threatened. He let out a sigh. “If it’s what you wish, Ella.”
“Oh, Papa!” Ella rushed toward her father and flung herself into his arms. “I promise you I’ll come visit as often as you’d like. Right, Raven?”
“Of course. She is not a prisoner here. She is the wife of the grandson of our chief. She holds a position of honor.”
“And you can come visit me whenever you want. I’ll always be thrilled to see you.”
Her father’s arms tightened, and Ella’s breath caught. This was so difficult for him, for reasons she still didn’t completely understand. After a moment, his hold relaxed, and he spoke softly. “Ready yourself for a weddin’, Ella. I’ll be back with your mama.”
