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Authors: Constance O'Banyon

Savage Winter (29 page)

BOOK: Savage Winter
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“You can make your plans, and when you have decided, let me know.”

Joanna nodded and would have left, but Windhawk’s words stopped her. “I wish to speak to you about Tag and Morning Song.” He took Little Hawk from her and laid him down on the buffalo robe, then indicated that Joanna should sit. When she was seated, she waited for Windhawk to speak.

He sat down and looked deep into her eyes. “Were you aware that your brother and my sister love each other?”

Joanna’s mouth opened in surprise. “I knew that Morning Song loved Tag, but I had no notion that he loved her. How do you know this?”

“I have been observing them together.”

“No, no, it’s not possible!” Joanna said in English.

“Why do you object to their love?” Windhawk asked in Blackfoot. “Do you not think Morning Song is right for your brother? You married an Indian.”

“It is not that. For one thing, they are too young, and for another I do not want Morning Song to be hurt. Tag will one day leave this village to take his place as my father’s heir. When that happens, Morning Song will not be able to go with him. She would never survive in the white world.”

His eyes darkened. “Are you saying Tag would be ashamed of her in the white world?”

“No, of course not!” Joanna said indignantly. “If my brother loves Morning Song, he would never be ashamed of her. Your sister is a lovely girl and all I could ask for in a wife for Tag. What I was trying to say is that in the white world there are hates and prejudices. Morning Song would never be accepted by them, and she would be hurt by their rejection. Besides, they are both too young to think about marriage.”

“I agree that they are too young, and I also agree that Morning Song could not go with Tag should he leave…what if your brother decides to remain here?” He watched her face closely, awaiting her answer.

“I…if…I leave it is assumed that Tag will go, too. He would never stay here without me.”

“Joanna, I have been listening to you, and I hear more than you are saying. If my sister would not be accepted in your world…what about my son…?”

Joanna opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it tightly. She had never considered Little Hawk…but, of course, she hadn’t really wanted to go away. He would face the same prejudice and distrust that Morning Song would if she took him away from the Blackfoot village.

“I have to admit that our son would not be…he would not…they would never…”

“I see,” Windhawk said, cutting into her confusion. “You might want to consider our son before you make your decision to leave.”

Joanna watched as he stood up and moved to the opening. “You are a good mother, Joanna…I will expect you to do what is best for Little Hawk.”

When she was alone, she leaned her head over against the lodgepole and closed her eyes. Would the hurting ever stop? Would she ever feel at peace again? Had Windhawk been implying that she should leave her baby behind when she left? No, she could never do that! Deep inside, she knew
Windhawk would never allow her to take their son with her. He was only waiting for her to realize that, also!

Farley rode into the village leading his two pack horses. He’d had a devil of a time finding them. Most of the supplies had been lost, but he had managed to recover some of them.

Seeing Windhawk talking to some of his warriors, he rode over to him.

“Where have you been, old man?” Windhawk asked.

“I have been many days rounding up my pack horses. When I rode back to the village to warn you that the Assiniboin were about to attack, I had to let my horses go.”

Windhawk’s eyes narrowed. “That same day you caused the buffalo to stampede, costing us the hunt.” Windhawk’s face eased into a smile. “We owe you much, old man. I myself owe you my life.”

That was the first time the young chief had ever said a friendly word to Farley, and the old trapper grinned. “You have allowed me to live among you. I have known that you only let me stay for Joanna’s sake.”

Windhawk reached up and touched the old man’s hand. “I will now allow you to stay because you have earned the right, Farley.”

Windhawk and Farley looked into each other’s eyes, knowing they shared a common respect. Farley felt, at last, that he had a home where he would live out his old age.

Joanna carried Little Hawk back to Sun Woman’s tipi. Windhawk had given her many things to think about. She was as lost and confused as ever. What she needed was for Windhawk to make the decision for her. He should decide whether she should go or stay.

She reminded herself that he had asked her to stay in his lodge, but she knew that was only because of Little Hawk.

Tears fell down her face as she rested her cheek against her baby’s. “If I must go away, I could never leave you, my littlest love,” Joanna whispered to her sleeping baby. “I will never go without you!”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Windhawk stood at the end of the long line of warriors. His face was solemn as the drums beat out a tempo and several voices chanted the song of the brave warrior.

Tag held his head high and looked neither to his left nor to his right as he walked down the path made by the Blackfoot warriors—his eyes were on Windhawk.

Joanna felt tears in her eyes as Tag passed her. She was so proud of him! He was being honored tonight for saving the women and children. She had been told by Sun Woman that no white man had ever received this honor, and it made her doubly proud because Farley was walking just behind her brother, and he was also being honored tonight.

Morning Song watched Tag, and she felt her heart swell with love and pride. Tonight he would be recognized by the whole tribe as a brave warrior.

Joanna watched Morning Song’s face and saw the love shining there. She loved the young girl and didn’t want to see her hurt. She had mixed emotions about her and Tag’s feelings for each other. Would Tag be happier if he stayed with the Blackfoot? Would he never want to return to Philadelphia? Whatever he decided, she knew it would have to be his decision. Secretly, she hoped he would remain with the Blackfoot. He was happy here, and he never had been completely happy in Philadelphia. Had she herself not once found overwhelming happiness here among the Blackfoot?

Her eyes traveled up the long line to where Windhawk stood with his arms folded across his chest. Tag had just reached him, and Windhawk raised his hand for silence.

“My people, tonight we honor two brave men. Had it not been for both of them, many of you might not be here tonight. As you may know, Tag has already been given a
name. Tonight, I, too, will give him a name. From this day forward, he shall be called…Night Falcon!” Windhawk reached for Tag’s hand and extended it over his head. “Let all remember his brave deeds, and know that because of him…not one of our women or children lost their life in the Assiniboin raid!”

Windhawk then turned to Farley. “All of you know the part this man played in warning us that the Assiniboin were on their way to our village. What you may not know is that he also saved my life. Many months this man has walked among us, giving us his friendship. Although his skin is white, I say inside him beats the heart of a Blackfoot.”

Windhawk smiled at Farley. “I will now give Farley an Indian name. Since many of you call him the crazy one, I say to you he is crazy…crazy like the fox. The name I bestow on him is…Crazy Fox!”

Joanna stayed to see no more. She knew the celebration would go on well into the night. She followed the well-worn path to the river, thinking it would be nice to be alone.

Tag had received his honors, and Farley was at last recognized for his worth. What about her? Where did she fit into the Blackfoot tribe? She realized she was feeling sorry for herself, but what did it matter…no one would know.

The moon was shining brightly, and she could hear the laughter and merriment coming from the village. Bending down, she plucked a wild flower, holding it to her nose and inhaling its delicate fragrance.

“Are you touched by the moon’s magic, Joanna?” Windhawk asked, moving out of the shadows to stand beside her.

“I do not know what you mean,” she said, trying to still the thundering of her heart.

“I have been watching you for some time, and it appeared that the moonlight shimmers off your hair,” he said in a deep voice.

Joanna looked up into his face and saw he was staring at her through half-veiled eyes. “I was not aware that you were watching me. Will you not be missed at the ceremony?”

“Your brother and the old man are the center of attention. I will not be missed.”

“I really must get back,” she said, trying to step around Windhawk. “The baby might be awake.”

“My mother is with him,” he said, giving her no excuse to leave.

“It is getting late.”

“Come, Joanna, walk with me. I think there is much we should talk about.” He took her arm and steered her away from the river toward the woods.

She wanted to go with him, and yet she didn’t. She feared what he had to say to her. Was tonight the time Windhawk would cut her adrift in a world in which she felt she no longer belonged? Would he ask her to leave? She remembered how she had once defied anyone who stood in the way of what she wanted. She was no longer the person she had once been. Now, she was feeling too unsure of herself.

Windhawk led her into the woods to a small glen where the trees had been cut away, allowing the bright moonlight to filter through like a hazy mist.

“Was it necessary to come so far from the village?” she asked.

Windhawk sat down on the grass and motioned for her to do the same. When she was seated he spoke. “Yes, I did not want anyone to interrupt us. It seems we never get to finish a conversation.”

Joanna plucked at the fringe on her doeskin gown. “I was proud of Tag and Farley tonight.”

She heard Windhawk let out his breath in agitation. “I did not bring you here to talk about your brother and the old man. I want to ask you some questions.”

Joanna bristled, suddenly feeling more her old self. “Am I supposed to answer all your questions?”

“I hoped you would clear up some things for me,” he said, smiling to himself.

“All right,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “You ask and I will answer…if I can.”

He lay back on the grass and watched how the moon played across her beautiful face. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew they would be alive and sparkling with fire. Her red-gold hair seemed to shimmer with a silvery light. He moved a little to his left so he could see her face more clearly, wanting to watch her expression when he spoke to her.

“Have you thought any more about what you want to do, Joanna?” he asked, watching the slow rise and fall of her breast. He felt a warmth in his loins and knew he wanted her.

“I have not. If you are in such a hurry to be rid of me, perhaps you should decide when you want me to leave.”

He could plainly read hurt on her face. “I was not the one who wanted you to leave, Joanna. If you will remember, you are the one who left in the first place. I am the one who brought you back.”

“That was your mistake, Windhawk. Had you not done so you would not have to worry about sending me away now.”

He sat up and touched her hair ever so gently. “I can think of many things I would like to do to you, Joanna. Sending you away is not one of them,” he whispered close to her ear.

“No,” she said, looking at him with frightened eyes.

“Oh, yes, Joanna. Are you not aware that you have had me squirming? Do you not see what everyone else sees?”

“Wh…what?”

His hand trailed down her hair, then across her face to outline the shape of her mouth. “I have tried to put you out of my mind, Joanna, but my body will not allow it. I have this craving that gnaws at me night and day. Allow me to touch you so I may find some release from this torment.”

Joanna closed her eyes. “Is this why you brought me here, Windhawk? Is this what you had in mind?”

He tilted her face up to his, and she felt his torment and knew it was very much like her own. “I tried to tell myself that I only wanted to talk to you, but in truth, I think I hoped you would allow me to…” his hand drifted behind her head, and he brought her face closer to his. “…allow me to kiss you,” he whispered, lowering his head so his lips were
very near hers. “Have you been in torment, Joanna? Do you ever wish for what only I can give you?” His deep, husky voice seemed to vibrate through her whole body, and a small groan escaped her lips.

“Yes, Windhawk…Oh, yes!”

Windhawk’s mouth covered hers, and she could feel herself moving backward to rest her head against the cool grass.

“Joanna, my Joanna. I have wanted this for so long,” he murmured against her lips.

Was this another cruel jest he was playing on her, Joanna wondered, remembering the last time he had kissed her. In her heart she wanted so much to believe he was sincere, but this time, like the last, he didn’t speak words of love…he spoke only of desire. He would shatter her heart into a million pieces again if he was only playing with her. Windhawk was an honorable man, she knew that now, but how did he feel about her? She had to know!

Wedging her hand between them, she pushed him away. “Not now, Windhawk! Please, not now!”

“When, Joanna—when? I am so tied up in knots I cannot think straight!”

“No, you must answer some of
my
questions.”

He pulled back from her and looked at her long and hard. “Ask your questions, Joanna.”

She tried to reach for something to ask, but he was too near, and she couldn’t think clearly “I…why did you bring Red Bird into your lodge?” She asked the one that seemed the most important.

“I told you…I never took her to my body. Do you believe that?”

“Yes, but…why then did you allow her to stay with you? Was it just so you could hurt me?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward and brushed a stray curl out of her face. “I do not think I would knowingly do anything that would bring you pain.”

“How can I believe that when the evidence says otherwise?”

“Did I hurt you, Joanna?”

“Yes.”

“It seems we have hurt each other. What went wrong, Joanna? When did we start hurting each other?” He asked the same question she had asked herself over and over.

“I was not the first to bring hurt, Windhawk. I was waiting for you to return from the hunts. All the other women’s husbands came to them, but you didn’t even send word to me. I wanted to tell you about the baby, but you didn’t come.”

He could hear the hurt in her voice. “That was my mistake, Joanna. I thought you would understand that, as chief, I had to put everyone else’s needs above my own.”

“Above mine, Windhawk?”

“Yes…even yours.”

“You didn’t come, Windhawk, but Red Bird did. She taunted me with the fact that you had made love to her. She said you were going to replace me with her.”

“Joanna, did you have so little faith in me that you believed the woman’s lies? Did you not feel deep inside the love I had for you?”

“I thought you loved me, but I found out I was wrong.”

They both lapsed into silence for a moment, then Windhawk spoke. “Did you try to hurt me, Joanna? Did you go to the long knife to cause me pain for what you thought I had done to you?”

“No, I had no intention of going away. I was so angry with you I made a foolish statement to Morning Song about leaving you. I did not leave you, Windhawk; I was forcibly taken away by two men who were hired by my uncle.”

He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Others interfered in our life, Joanna, but if our love had been stronger then they could not have torn us apart. I never wanted anything as badly as I wanted you. Since the day I first saw you, I wanted only you. I did not want to touch any other woman.”

She noticed he was talking in the past tense. Yes, she thought, others had ripped them apart. Did she have the courage to pull them back together again?

“Did you intend to make Red Bird your wife, Windhawk?”

“No.”

“You were forced to kill her to save me—have you ever regretted that?”

“Yes, many times. I had never killed a woman before. It was very difficult for me when I had to take her body back to her father and tell him what had happened.”

“Sometimes things happen that we do not seem to have any control over, Windhawk. I feel like my life has been dictated by someone else for a long time.”

“By me, Joanna?”

“Yes…by you…Claudia…my uncle…Red Bird.”

“None of this is important, Joanna. Would you like to try and…”

She placed her hand over his mouth. “Do not speak it, Windhawk. I do not know what I want right now. I need time to find out who I am. If I ever do, I will come to you and tell you.”

Again there was silence. After a while, Windhawk stood up and took Joanna’s hand and helped her to her feet. “I will walk you back to the village,” he said simply.

As they made their way back along the path, they were both silent. When they reached the river, Joanna pulled her hand away from his and raced toward the village.

She entered the tipi to find Little Hawk awake. Sun Woman handed him to her, and Joanna unfastened her gown to feed him. Nothing had been settled between her and Windhawk tonight, but at least they had talked, and she felt that was important.

The time seemed to pass without Joanna’s even realizing it. Her days were filled with taking care of Little Hawk and helping Sun Woman cure meat and prepare hides and skins. Her nights were filled with emptiness and a deep loneliness.

More often than not, Windhawk would be away from the village on a hunt, and at the times when he was present he seemed to pay very little attention to her.

Sometimes Windhawk would ask Morning Song to bring his son to his lodge, and he would keep him there for hours. Joanna didn’t know what he did with her son on those occasions because she was never asked to accompany Little Hawk.

Since the night she and Windhawk had walked in the woods he had not approached her, and she knew he was waiting for her to come to him. So far, she hadn’t made any decision about her life. All she knew was that she loved Windhawk, but she was finding out that love wasn’t always enough.

Since learning about Tag and Morning Song’s feelings for each other, Joanna observed them more closely. By now everyone in the village knew that Tag and Windhawk’s sister were in love. Joanna knew the day would come when she would have to talk to Tag about his future, but she had been putting it off, not wanting to broach the subject.

The bright sunlight spread its warmth across the land, and Joanna breathed in the fragrant aroma of the many wild flowers that were in full bloom.

She was helping Sun Woman dry strips of buffalo meat, and she smiled at Little Hawk who was propped against a tree in his cradleboard, enjoying the outdoors.

“My grandson thrives,” Sun Woman observed.

“Yes, he is healthy,” Joanna agreed.

Sun Woman added more wood to the cook-fire while Joanna removed some of the meat that was done and placed it in a wooden bowl.

BOOK: Savage Winter
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