White Owl (2 page)

Rose rolled over on her back and stared up at the roughly hewn log ceiling. The Ute’s image swam before her eyes. She clasped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Had it just been an accidental encounter, or had he known that she was up on that plateau?

She had come upon the games by accident one afternoon when she had gone farther than she realized on one of her daily rides. As she had crested the ridge of a small hill, she heard loud whooping and the thunderous roar of pounding hooves. Thinking that she was about to be attacked, Rose had hidden herself and Molly in a large clump of thick aspens and bushes on top of the hill. Much to her relief, and then to her delight, Rose realized that she had just discovered the Utes’ horse races.
The races were one of the most exciting things she had ever seen, and for over a week, she had been sneaking back to the hilltop to watch the fun and games. Until today, she had thought she had a good hiding spot.

The Ute warrior dominated Rose’s thoughts again in spite of her best efforts to wipe out his memory. The brazen way his dark eyes had traipsed over her body made it obvious that he knew he could take anything from her that he wanted. A violent tremor shook through her.

“There you are. I was gettin’ worried about you. These rides of yours are getting longer and longer, and you know that you have to be careful out there,” Rose’s mother said as she entered her daughter’s room.

Rose quickly jumped up from her bed but had to grasp the edge of the dresser that sat beside her bed to steady herself. “I—I know, and I intend to stay closer to home from now on.” As soon as the words fell from her mouth, Rose knew that she had said more than she should have. The look of alarm on her mother’s face was undeniable.

“Why? Did something happen to you when you were out riding? Those Indians—”

“Oh no, nothing happened,” Rose interrupted. “Nothing at all. It’s just that I realize how selfish I’ve been lately—riding Molly so much when I should be here helping you out.”

“Rosaline—it’s your ma you’re talkin’ to.” Colleen Adair shook her finger at her daughter as she added, “And I can tell by the look on your face that
you’re lyin’ to me. But all that matters now is that you’re safe. And with the grace of the Lord above, I hope you learned yourself a lesson by whatever it was that scared you so bad today.” Turning around to head out of the door, she added, “It’s almost time to start dinner, so I’ll take you up on that offer for help.”

Rose gave a weak nod as her mother looked back over her shoulder and said, “You do not have a selfish bone in your body, Rosie, but even a little white lie can sometimes be a person’s downfall.”

“Sorry,” Rose mumbled. A feeling of shame washed over her. Her mother was definitely right about one thing; she had learned a huge lesson today.

She shook her head and threw her hands over her eyes. But the Ute’s image was still there—smiling that wicked smile and looking at her as if he had no decency at all. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead to wipe away the perspiration suddenly on her brow.

Well, it would be the last time he looked at her in that manner, Rose swore to herself, because she would never stray over to Ute land again.

White Owl sat cross-legged at the fire pit in front of his tepee and watched the flames dancing among the logs. He expelled a heavy sigh and frowned. He had thought of nothing but the girl with hair the color of a fiery sunset and eyes as blue as the mountain lakes since he had seen her on the plateau earlier today. He tried to focus on the fire, but he could not rid himself of her memory.

“What has my first son so angry?”

White Owl shook his head in an aggravated manner and glanced up at his father. Strong Elk smiled down at him and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he waited for an answer.

White Owl shrugged as he returned his gaze to the fire. “A woman,” he answered.

Strong Elk chuckled as he sat on the ground next to his eldest son. “Is it Sunshine? I’ve seen how she watches you. Her hips are wide for bearing your sons. She will be a good wife.”

White Owl scowled but did not immediately reply. If only Sunshine made him feel the way the white girl did today, then there would not be a problem.

“It is another girl?” Strong Elk asked. His thick dark brows lifted up in surprise. “Well, you can have more than one wife, so you could have Sunshine and . . .” He left the question hanging as he waited for his son to reply.

With a grunt, White Owl threw a rock into the fire. “She is not
Uncompahgre
.”

Strong Elk chuckled again and smacked his son on the back. “Is she from the Yampah tribe? It would be good to have a wife from that tribe. They are very spiritual and strong.”

“She is not
Yuuttaa
, father. She is white.”

The following silence told White Owl that his father was stunned to hear that the woman his son was thinking about was not Ute.

“How is it that you have encountered this white woman?” Strong Elk finally asked.

“She has been coming to watch the pony races. I noticed her on the plateau and went up to get a closer look.” White Owl shook his head and gave a defeated sigh.

“And with just a look this woman is doing this to you, or did something else happen?”

White Owl shook his head again as he met his father’s worried gaze. “I did not do something foolish, if that is what you mean.” He glanced away and added, “But I might if I see her again. She has stolen my mind. I cannot think of anything but her.”

The sun slipped below the last horizon and the glow from the fire was the only light left on this night of a new
muatagoci
—“moon.” White Owl
could no longer see his father’s expression clearly, but he heard him exhale sharply.

“There is trouble brewing at the agency already. We should not do anything that would cause the problems to get worse.” Strong Elk rose up to his feet, then leaned down and rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I do not worry about you, my son. You have never done crazy things that would disgrace me.” He straightened up and added, “Not like your brother.” A heavy sigh emitted from Strong Elk. “You can ponder this important matter during the Sun Dance. Until then I will pray to the bear to give you the strength to stay away from this woman.”

White Owl nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Father.” He watched him disappear into the darkness as he headed toward the tepee he shared with his wives, White Owl’s mother, Sage, and also her younger sister, Cloud Woman. His father’s words echoed through his mind. For his people—the
Yuuttaa
, or Ute, meaning “land of the sun”—the bear was considered a close and sacred relative. White Owl knew the bear had helped him to become the strong warrior that he was today . . . he just hoped the sacred bear would give him the wisdom to make the right decision where the white woman was concerned.

If he could be patient, White Owl could also ask the Great Spirit for guidance. In a few days the Utes would begin preparation for the most significant ceremony of their people. The Sun Dance
took place in midsummer and was an important spiritual journey between the participant and the Great Spirit. After the ceremony was finished, White Owl’s medicine would be strong and he would see things more clearly. Unfortunately, White Owl was not a very patient man.

For the past three days he had been watching for her, but she had not showed up again—that is, until today. White Owl had hidden his pony in the bushes halfway up the hillside and walked up here every afternoon, waiting for her to return. He still could not explain why he was so obsessed with the flame-haired woman, but if she was worth missing out on the races with his comrades, she must be something special.

Watching her from the cover of the bushes now, White Owl was not sorry that he had chosen to wait for her instead of engaging in the games down below.

He had noticed her coming from the northeast, so she must have crossed Milk Creek. Obviously, she had ridden a long way to come here . . . perhaps she was as curious about him as he was about her.

From his hiding spot, he could see her clearly. The other day her hair had been in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she had worn the same brown wide-brimmed hat that she wore today. But now, with her long red hair flowing freely around her face, she was even more beautiful than White Owl remembered. Last time, she had been dressed
in a simple black riding skirt, red plaid shirt, and looked like a homesteader’s daughter. Now she wore a matching tan jacket and riding skirt that looked expensive. He was reminded of the rich women he had seen in Denver when he was young and had been sent there to learn the ways of the white man.

He suspected that she would not hide in the same location as she had a few days ago, and his prediction had been correct. Since she had ridden her horse to the far end of the hillside, he was only a few yards away from her. He was certain that she could not see him, but he could watch every move she made, and she seemed confident that she had found a good hiding spot as she removed her riding jacket and pushed it into her saddlebags. White Owl noticed she moved cautiously so that she would not draw any attention to herself. Fascinated, he watched her roll up the sleeves of her fancy white top and remove her brown hat for a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow with the tips of her fingers. The sun was scorching on this summer afternoon, and White Owl was hoping she would remove more clothing. He was disappointed when her attention seemed to focus on the pony races in the meadow below them.

Although he did not have a plan beyond waiting here in the bushes to see if the girl came back, White Owl now discovered that he was completely hypnotized by her. The bright afternoon sunlight glistened on her red hair and almost seemed to cast a mystical glow around her entire face. Her
skin looked as creamy as milk and her eyes definitely were the most vibrant blue he had ever seen. He could do nothing other than stare at her.

When he finally began to snap out of the spell that this enchanting girl was casting over him, White Owl realized that he wanted to do far more than watch her from this hiding place. The will-power that he had prayed to the bear to give him when he encountered this woman again was completely forgotten.

He bounded up from the sagebrush that had been concealing him and lunged forward. He heard the girl’s terrified cry and saw her horse rear up in surprise, but before she could get her horse under control again, White Owl grabbed her foot and pulled her down from the animal’s back. They both tumbled to the ground, with White Owl landing first and the girl crashing down on top of him. For a moment, he could not catch his breath. But even as he gasped for air, he wrapped his arms tightly around his captive to keep her from getting away.

Although he was expecting a fight, White Owl was not prepared for the wildcat he had just captured. He felt her fingernails rake through the skin on his shoulder, but the pain from that attack was lost to the rest of the battle he encountered as her kicks at his legs and the punches of her fists against his chest and face took him completely by surprise.

Once White Owl was able to take a full breath, he regained his senses, along with his strength, and easily grasped the girl in a crushing embrace
and rolled over with her until he was the one on top. He felt her body stiffen beneath him as she began to realize that he had her pinned so tightly between the ground and his body that she could not get away regardless of how hard she tried to fight him.

She finally gave up her intense struggle. White Owl could feel the rapid rising and falling of her breasts pressing against his bare chest as she attempted to breathe. The realization that only a bit of material prevented their skin from touching made his manhood rise without warning. The swollen member pushed unmercifully against her hip bone.

By the horrified look on her face, White Owl was certain that she was also aware of his desire. Her blue eyes went wide and her lips parted in a silent scream.

Her stunned silence lasted for only a moment before she started kicking and struggling against him with even more determination. White Owl was certain that her main target was his most private area, which was completely deflated now, because that was where her knees seemed to be aimed as she struggled beneath him again with renewed vigor. And though he had her arms pinned firmly against the ground with his hands, he could not get her flailing legs under control.

“Stop it, woman! I do not intend to hurt you.”

Instantly, her struggles ceased. “You can speak English?”

“Not with pride—only because I did not know any better as a child when I was forced to learn the ways of your people.”

She continued to stare up at him, but she did not attempt to fight him again. He could feel the heat of her rapid breath against his face. He could steal a kiss from those pale pink lips, and she would not be able to prevent it—a thought that made him swell with desire again.

“Oh, get off me now,” the girl gasped as she began to kick violently again. “Get off!” she screamed even louder.

White Owl tried to put his hand over her mouth to silence her. There was no way he intended to share this beauty, and he had been lucky enough to avoid the other braves’ questions about his whereabouts the past few afternoons. Once he released his tight grip on her arms, however, she began pounding her fists against his chest and his face as hard as she could. But at least she was no longer yelling.