“You mean he was a great warrior before he met me?” she demanded angrily. Windrider didn’t answer, nor did his impassive expression reveal his thoughts to her. “You blame me for his being banished, don’t you?” she hotly challenged. “Why not? Everyone else does. If I could give him back all he’s lost, Windrider, I would. Bright Arrow can be whatever he chooses if his people will allow it. They are the ones destroying him, not me or my white blood. He was a proud and stubborn man. He was hurt deeply by the council’s decision. I have watched him suffer and change for years. I tried to help him, to prevent it. He shuts me out of his pain. He’s become like a stranger to me,” she confessed.
Her teary gaze also shifted to the sleeping Bright Arrow. “We never realized what our decision would cost him. We believed they would finally accept me one day.” She laughed coldly and cynically. “Don’t you understand? I didn’t capture and enslave him. I didn’t trick him or enchant him with some evil magic. I was his prisoner; I was obedient and respectful. I did all I could, Windrider, but his people hated me and rejected me. Bright Arrow is the one who chose to leave. No matter how cruel they were to me, I never begged him to leave his tribe. I never even suggested it or hinted at it.”
“He did not choose to leave, Rebecca. He spoke his challenge and the council accepted it. Once spoken, he could not recall his rash words,” he reminded her. “If you love him, send him home. His people need him. His family needs him. He is no man this way. It is wrong for a warrior to live as white. It is wrong to destroy him.”
“And what of our children?” she questioned. “If there were no children, I would have forced him to leave me and return home long ago. I never wanted to shame or hurt Bright Arrow. I never wanted him to be like this. Why must I accept the blame?”
Windrider was pleased by Rebecca’s confession but did not remark on it. The sly warrior informed her, “The children would be accepted by his family and people. Ir time their white mother would be forgotten. They would live and marry as Indian, as it should be. Hear my words, Rebecca. The Oglala customs and laws have not changed. Their hearts are still Indian and hard against the whites. They will not allow a white woman to live as the honored mate of Gray Eagle’s son, the first son to breath the air of Wakantanka. If you return to the Oglala camp, it will be as before. You must live as his… I do not know the white word,” he deviously hesitated.
“Whore, Windrider, the white word for a female living with a man who is not her husband is whore,” she declared frostily, refusing to allow guilt and shame to viciously attack her.
“You lived this way many winters ago. Why do you and Bright Arrow fight what must be? The Oglalas will accept the return of Bright Arrow and his children, but they will never accept you as his wife. If you love your mate and children, why do you not want what is best for them? Which is more important, Rebecca, your honor or his?” he cunningly inquired as his eyes and voice softened.
“Why is my honor any less than his? Before, I was his captive. Now, I am his… woman. Why should I be shamed? I didn’t ask for this kind of life, but I have done my best to make it work. You can’t understand what they demand of me, Windrider. You don’t know what it’s like to live as a lowly slave. Why is it so wrong for an Indian to love and marry a white?” She pleaded for his explanation. “Why must the Indian law declare me the enemy? Why must it say I am evil and without merit? Why must it force me to live in shame and misery? Why is skin color so much more important than feelings and actions?”
Her words seemed to surprise him. He cleverly responded, “I do not know. It is different with the Cheyenne. I could marry a white woman and not face dishonor. I could marry her and not be banished. It is bad you were not taken captive by a Cheyenne warrior.”
Rebecca promptly told Windrider of the Cheyenne warrior Standing Bear’s challenge for her and of White Elk’s demand for her life. “The Cheyenne would have treated me no differently,” she disputed.
“You speak of two warriors with black hearts, whose faces were stained with dishonor. Do you not recall they were slain for their evil? My people will accept you, Rebecca. Bright Arrow must return to the path marked for him by the Great Spirit. If you cannot share that path, you must let him walk it alone, or with another female of his kind. I do not wish to see you sad or shamed. If you cannot return to the Oglala camp in honor and peace, you are welcome to live in my tepee, as my third wife,” he offered, stunning her. His alert gaze devoured her astonished features. “You will see you cannot return to the Oglala camp unless you live as Bright Arrow’s who— captive. Send him to his people. I will wait for you to come to me. I know the white man’s way of taking one wife. If you say it must be that way for us, I will send the others away. I will take only you to my heart and body. You can become a Cheyenne. In my tepee, you will be the honored wife of a great warrior. This new trail will be easier for all to walk. If you come to me, Bright Arrow will free you; he will free himself.” His hand reached out to caress her flushed cheek. “You are tired and confused. Think on my words. You will see I speak wisely and true. Sleep. You will soon be mine.”
Those last words echoed through her dazed mind. She went pale. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?” she asked faintly.
His fathomless dark eyes fused with her startled ones. “No, Rebecca, it was not a dream,” he calmly replied. “Is it not true you hunger for me as I hunger for you? Is it not true Bright Arrow has not made you feel such things in many, many moons? Can you deny the fires which I sparked within you?” he challenged.
Chapter Five
Rebecca didn’t know what to say or how to react to Windrider’s incredible confession and proposal. She panicked. She wanted to flee, but there was nowhere to go. As his words tumbled over and over in her mind, she remained speechless and still. Her brain was spinning at his bold admission, and when he spoke again, he further increased her anxiety, confusion, and astonishment.
“You do not remember when our eyes first touched on each other?” he inquired but didn’t allow her time to think or reply. He continued, “It was many winters past, and I have never forgotten you or that day. You were brave, but frightened like the hunted doe. I rode with Bright Arrow the sun he took you captive. If he had not taken Standing Bear’s challenge for you, I would have battled to the death before allowing Standing Bear to have you. I rode to the Oglala camp when the challenge was made for your life. When the order was given to slay. White Elk for his evil, I placed my arrow in his body. I did not wish to see you harmed. Bright Arrow has forgotten that I tried to buy you from him. I offered him many horses and furs. He said you pleased him, and he would not trade you. Each time I come to see him, I also come to see you. You have more beauty than Mother Earth. You are as strong and cunning as the she-wolf, but as gentle as the butterfly. You have shown great courage and value before the Oglalas. My heart burned with anger to see ‘ them reject you. I was going to purchase you if Bright Arrow put you aside. His pride was great, and he did not. It is not wise to feel such anger toward friends of the Cheyenne. You will increase my fury if you permit them to toss you away once more as if you are worth nothing.”
Windrider appeared to leash his ire, and his chilling tone warmed as he whispered, “I have dreamed of you for many winters. I came to your white tepee many times to see that you remained safe and happy. You did not. I curse the evil of the Pawnee who kept me from your side when you faced danger. When I return home, I will raid their camp in revenge for your suffering. I forced Bright Arrow to see that his family was not safe in the white tepee. I told him he could become my brother if he would bring his family to live in my camp. Bright Arrow has not been a man for many moons. He cannot protect you as Windrider can. He does not think clearly. He punishes you for being white, for taking him from his people, but you are innocent. When you return to the Oglala camp, he will choose his people over you when the demand is made. Do not fear, Rebecca. I will take you to my heart and my tepee.”
Rebecca was too stunned to debate his charges
against Bright Arrow. She had had no inkling that Windrider was in love with her, had been pining for her for years! “You must not say such things, Windrider,” she rebuked him. “I am bound to another; it is wrong to speak this way.” He had opened his heart to her, and she couldn’t insult or forbid his feelings for her, even if they were wrong. At least he had waited until he felt the relationship between her and Bright Arrow was over before speaking his mind. Love was a relentless emotion, she knew, one not easy to understand or govern, one that was often cruel.
She smiled and added, “Thank you for your concern and friendship. But after so long, surely they will welcome him home.”
“Not with you at his side,” Windrider argued softly. “If you blind your eyes to the truth, you will be hurt. Bright Arrow was filled with dark pride. He did not believe the tribe would dare to punish the son of Gray Eagle. They stripped him of his rank and honor. They took away his spirit and manhood. He has suffered for many winters. Do not be blind; he will pay the price to return. He can find new happiness in his camp without you, but he cannot find happiness with only you in the wilderness. Is that not true?” he gently challenged. She had failed to proclaim love for Bright Arrow; that omission gave Windrider the boldness to continue with his scheme. “Once his feet touch his lands, will he again leave with you?”
Tears moistened her tawny eyes. “Why do you say such cruel things, Windrider? He loved me and chose me. He gave up everything for me,” she stressed. “Why would he betray me and desert me now?”
“I say such words to uncloud your eyes. Forgive me if they cut deeply. You have given him many seasons. Does his spirit sing with joy? Does he hunger for each new sun? Do you fill his life and heart, Rebecca? A warrior has needs which no woman can feed. Bright Arrow was raised as a warrior; he can be nothing less and be happy. Can he live as no man? Can he live with you, the reason for his losses? He does not own you as his horse or shield. Wives are free to leave their mates, to return home, to remarry. Make it painless for you and Bright Arrow. Put him away. Send him home. Join to me. Free him, Rebecca, before your heart suffers more,” he urged her.
“I can’t believe you’re saying such things, Windrider. What would Bright Arrow say if he heard you? I’m his… wife; you’re his best friend. You must not love me. You must not speak this way again,” she ordered faintly. “We have children. You know his people have the right to them if I free him. Children belong to the father’s tribe,” she emphasized raggedly, though it was a fact he knew well.
“Your girls must live as Indian. They cannot if you live in the Oglala camp as Bright Arrow’s white whore. If you live that way, others will not forget they are halfblooded. Is your love for them strong enough to give them the life they need? Join to me and I will give you more children to love. When many moons are passed and you are accepted as my wife, we will visit your children in the Oglala camp. They will not forget their mother.”
“I can’t believe you are speaking this madness,” she murmured. “I can’t do what you ask, Windrider. It’s wrong for me. Please don’t say anything more,” she pleaded.
“I will hold my tongue until you see my words are true. That moon, you will come to me. I will love you and protect you until the moon no longer crosses the sky,” he vowed. Suddenly his gaze became intimidating. “I warn you now; I will not allow you to live as Bright Arrow’s white whore. It would be as evil as destroying the sunshine. If you dare to yield to such a demand, I will challenge for you.”
“No, you can’t do that,” she gasped in alarm. “What would others think? Please don’t act so rashly, Windrider,” she entreated him. “I can’t allow you and Bright Arrow to battle over me.”
“They would see the truth; I love you and want you. Hear me, Rebecca. I will not permit them to shame you or hurt you,” he warned. “Rest. We have much land to cover before dark.” He stood up and walked to the horses. After checking them, he sat down near the tree where they were grazing, purposely placing his profile to her.
Rebecca lay on the blanket which Windrider had spread beside her. She recalled the juice that he had prepared for them, remembering how he had filled Bright Arrow’s pipe from his parfleche. Had the drinks and tobacco contained drugging herbs, some sexual stimulant? Had Windrider used the “dream” to arouse wanton desires in her? If so, was it the first time? And would she have reacted the same without magical compulsion? Had it been a ploy to entrap her, to tempt her beyond control? She recalled Bright Arrow’s words about Windrider giving him gold and the news of the trader’s arrival. If Windrider had not been attacked by the Pawnee warriors, they would have been alone for many days, and nights… Would he have confessed his love and desire for her? Would she have fallen prey to his manly prowess? Had he schemed to allow Bright Arrow to catch them together? She wondered whose idea it had been for Windrider to come to their cabin to guard her and the children. For certain, she wasn’t drugged today. His desire and determination for her were intimidating, yet stimulating as well…
Rebecca observed her sleeping mate. His flabby stomach rose and fell each time he snored. He was sprawled on the ground like a drunk. He wasn’t sleeping with one eye and ear open as a well-trained, acutely sensed warrior did on the trail! She sighed wearily. Her plagued heart cried out, What has become of you, my love? How could you have done this to yourself? To us? Will it ever be as it was so long ago when we defiantly and brazenly surrendered to forbidden ecstasy? Has savage fate intervened? Is it over for us, Bright Arrow? Will I lose you to your tribe? How can I fight for you?
Her haunted gaze shifted to the masterful and virile Windrider. His eyes were closed, but his body indicated he was alert. He was everything Bright Arrow had been, and she almost resented that reality. Actually, she mused, she should be delighted to have him along for protection. But how should she deal with his feelings? If only his challenges were false!
She couldn’t dwell on such forbidden emotions. She had to forget what Windrider had told her; she had to force him to ignore her. She reclined on her side, away from the entrancing warrior. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift lazily for a time.
The rest period was over. Windrider awakened Bright Arrow. Seeing how much time had passed while he had been deep in slumber, Bright Arrow flashed Windrider a sheepish grin. Windrider smiled in return and encouraged, “Soon you will regain a warrior’s body and skills.”
“It will be hard, Windrider,” he replied, casting his somber eyes on his sleeping girls. “Many will laugh and joke when they see how low Bright Arrow has fallen. Once, few men could match my cunning and daring. Now, a young brave could best me. A great warrior like Windrider should avoid those who reveal meager courage or honor. As my friend and helper, many will taunt you,” he sadly warned the puissant warrior who grinned nonchalantly at him.
Knowing Rebecca wasn’t asleep, Windrider cleverly asked, “What will you do with your woman if the Oglala council does not change its vote? Will you force her to live as your slave? They will accept you and the children, but not her. Does she know this? Is it not the same to be a warrior of another tribe,” he pointed out. “She is special, Bright Arrow. She has given you much and endured much. You must guard her feelings with care. Will you take her and return to the white man’s world if she is rejected?”
Bright Arrow frowned. “Never,” he answered with cold finality. “I know it is hard for a banished warrior to find peace and honor in another camp. My heart and head have no answers this sun. I must become a whole man before I enter my camp. I pray they do not give me a choice between my tribe and my wife.”
Windrider refuted, “She is not your wife, Bright Arrow. You did not join with her by Indian law. You took her in the white man’s custom as a man called Clay Rivera. You are not that man. He is not real. She is not your true wife under the white man’s law. She lived with you, but not as your wife. Will she do this in your camp?”
“Rebecca will do as I command,” he stated firmly, embarrassed by Windrider’s truthful s
tatements. He knew he could not bear losing her after all he’d given up to have her. “She knows she is not my wife by any man’s law. She will obey me and go where I lead. If she can live with me in the white world without a true marriage, why can she not do so in my camp?” he reasoned.
“I have intruded on your thoughts and feelings, my friend. I ask forgiveness. I will not speak of such painful matters again. I wish to see you and your family safe and happy. You wake the children. I will call your woman from her sleep. We must go; the sky warns of rain.”
Bright Arrow’s attention was captured by the girls as he aroused them. They went running off toward the stream with their father, their loud giggles trailing behind them. Windrider knelt beside Rebecca and gently shook her shoulder. She rolled to her back and locked her eyes on his. Her probing gaze asked if Windrider had intentionally pointed out the fact that she was not legally or morally wed to Bright Arrow; their children were wood’s colts. It was only a charade. For what? For whom?
His gaze craftily altered from one of tenderness to one of surprise, then remorse. “You were not sleeping. I am sorry. I know you are not wed. He has no hold over you. I wished to know of Bright Arrow’s true feelings for you. It is foolish for a warrior to seek a battle which is lost before the first blow is struck. I did not mean to insult or shame you with such words. I will say no more.”
As he turned to rise, Rebecca caught his muscular arm and said, “Say no more… until I have had time to think on your words.”
“It will be as you say,” he agreed. He smiled at her and extended his hand to help her rise.
Rebecca accepted it. Despite the heat of the day, her hand was cold within his warm grasp. With his towering, robust frame blocking hers from the others, his fingers pressed against the throbbing pulse in her throat. He smiled and murmured, “Your heart races as swiftly as mine. Do not fear my love or possession, Rebecca.”
Stolen Ecstasy Page 10
