“I cannot show favor to prisoner or lose
face among my people. You were treated better than other captives
because I am son of leader. My people not question my actions.
Other white
71
prisoners are tied behind horse, and then
beaten severely; you will survive a few scratches and bruises. I
received nothing less from your people. Ribs still sore where white
man kicked with boot.”
Melissa was furious at
what he thought was kindness. She folded her shaking arms across
her chest to keep from trembling so much.
Save face? Damn his handsome face!
She knew she was pouting, behaving infantile, but crap, she’d
had enough of this... “Ohh! Why don’t you treat me like the other
captives?” she spat. “Why are you tender one minute and savage the
next?” She threatened her bottom lip with her teeth. “You think you
could beat me, and then make tender love to me and I would be
silent? Well… you’re wrong! All you think about is that stupid
pride of yours.” Pent-up tears fell like a torrent of rain and she
turned her back to him.
“Honey Eyes, this Apache know you are
exhausted, scared, and miserable from being taken from family. My
heart ached with every attack on tender body. If possible to have
taken blows for you, I would have.”
“Why, Blue Thunder?” she whispered more to
herself, then to him. He said something and Melissa heard his soft
spoken words, spoken in his Apache tongue. “Speak to me in English,
please.” She turned, he was gone and she let out a heart-wrenching
sigh. “Great, now I’m talking to myself!”
Even though at that minute she hated him,
her heart ached for him to hold her. The sudden emptiness engulfed
her whole being like never before. She looked about at her
strange
surroundings; a fire pit was cold. Gazing up
she saw a smoke hole for the chimney, letting in the only light.
Her mood was as dark and gloomy as the dwelling. Collapsing on a
fur blanket, she cried for herself and her sister. Was Daphne all
right? Would he really keep her for his slave? Her mind clouded
with so many questions, she soon fell into an exhausted
slumber.
It amazed Blue Thunder how soft he had
become when it came to her; his love did strange things to his
mind. On the trail he half wanted her again but they had to reach
the village before dark; he had wasted enough time by not pushing
his mount. She had complained only once over her discomfort but he
suspected she was really annoyed by the burning of her filthy
dress. She was braver than he first gave her credit for. Yes, he
admitted to himself, he had lost his
72
heart to the girl with hair the color of new
corn and eyes like honeycomb. He left shaking his head at this
complicated woman who had captured his heart. He wondered how he
would explain to his father that he could never marry another.
He knew Dasodaha would object to his
captive, but she could bear him many healthy sons. He would talk to
the counsel; there had been cases when Indian laws had been put
aside. Could his father see past her skin color and know that his
son’s heart has great love for this woman? Only Dasodaha could
plead for him before the counsel.
Once again, Blue Thunder prayed to the gods
especially for his father’s forgiveness for attacking the wagon
train. He had not considered the repercussions of his foolish act
but he was so enraged, and let his anger rules his senses. The only
good thing that came out of his attack was the white woman. He had
lost three good braves and for that he would never forgive
himself.
Eskaminzim had been a childhood friend. His
name had meant Big Mouth, and the Apache indeed had one and used it
to tease him relentlessly. Now he had to admire her bravery and he
was happy that it was too dim inside for her to see the affection
in his expression. He had to remember in the future that he was an
Apache, not a weak white man, no matter what his feelings for her.
But now he must seek out his father and brother. The white woman
would soon realize her love for him; time would heal her physical
and mental wounds. Her words had cut deep but he was grateful she
held them until they were alone.
Blue Thunder spotted his aunt, Laughing
Tree, sitting by her dwelling. She looked up and smiled; a smile
that warmed his heart. It was genuine and made her eyes crinkle
with love for him and then she entered the wickiup knowing their
talk should be private. He followed, and at the same time Licks Too
Much leaped up and happily greeted his long-over due master. He
bent down to pet his dog, the animal had unconditional love for
him, and he welcomed the affection, but he needed to talk to his
aunt, and the dog was distracting him with his attentiveness.
“Sorry, old boy, but out you go. We will
have time to see one another later.” The dog obeyed and ran
outside, but Blue Thunder knew he would find the canine waiting
patiently by the door for him.
His aunt sat by the smoldering embers and so
did he. She placed her fingers on his arm tenderly, and said, “I am
happy my brother’s son is alive.” Then placing a hand over her
chest,
73
she declared, “In my heart, I knew you had
not crossed over to the other side and you would return. Your
father and brother did not see truth in my words of hope and went
to the mountain to mourn.”
Blue Thunder’s eyes watered as he hugged
her. “My aunt has great wisdom. I will send a runner to fetch
unbelieving father and brother,” he said with a teasing grin.
“Please, see that my prisoner gets a good meal.” He hesitated a
moment, “And kind aunt, please give her one of your dresses. I must
see to my mount and I need time to think.”
Laughing Tree nodded. “I will do as nephew
asks. She is a very beautiful white girl.” She looked at him with a
knowing gleam in her eyes. “This child is a beauty but nephew; I
envision a hard life ahead for you if you kept girl with hair like
moon’s glow.”
He stood saying, “I think aunt is too
wise.”
Someone softly shook Melissa’s shoulder.
Thinking it was Blue Thunder, she jumped, clutching the blanket as
if it were her lifeline. Her eyes widened when she saw the older
woman kneeling by her. The woman handed her a large wooden bowl
which she wanted to refuse. When her stomach rumbled, she thought
better of it. Taking the offering, she studied the thick broth,
wondering what it was. The woman then handed her a crude wooden
spoon. The broth was very tasty and Melissa discovered there were
some vegetables and a little meat at the bottom of the thick
liquid. She ate it all quickly. The woman greeted her with a stiff
nod, but her eyes were kind telling her that the Indian felt
sympathy when she handed the empty bowl back.
Melissa stood, no longer feeling threatened
by her. The Indian seemed kind and she wondered who she was. Hoping
the woman would not leave her alone, she tried to make conversation
by saying, “That was very good,” then pointed to the bowl. The
woman looked puzzled so she spoke slower. “G-o-o-d.” The Indian
repeated her word and Melissa wondered if
woman could understand or was playing dumb
like Blue Thunder had. She decided to keep trying anyway.
“Thank you, you are kind. I am Melissa.” She
pointed to herself. The Indian nodded.
“Me-lis-sa.” The woman’s dark eyes seemed to
brighten with understanding but she shook her head, saying, “Moon
Glow.” She pointed to her hair making Melissa confused.
74
“Moon Glow,” the woman repeated, touching
Melissa’s long silken strands.
“Moon Glow,” she whispered, touching her own
pale locks. “Moon Glow,” she nodded and laughed, liking the sound
of her own voice. It had been a long time since she heard herself
laughing.
“Friend,” the woman said.
“Oh,” She knew this white man’s word.
Melissa could have cried for joy; she had found a friend among her
enemies.
“Friend,” Melissa repeated, and then giggled
uncontrollably. What came over her, since she was so tense and
frightened? Now she was lightheaded and silly. The strain of the
past several days must have been too much for her. She stopped
laughing and wiped her teary eyes.
Then the woman pointed to herself. “Laughing
Tree.”
“You are called Laughing Tree?” Indians have
strange name, she thought, but kept that notion to herself.
The kind Indian handed her the garment that
was on her arm. At first Melissa didn’t know what was expected of
her, and then she realized Laughing Tree was offering clothing. She
studied it for a moment, hesitant to accept the gift, but the woman
placed it firmly in her hands.
As it unraveled, she gasped at the beauty of
the soft dress made of animal skin. It was more beautiful than some
of the ball gowns she had owned.
Melissa refused and shook her head. “I can’t
take this, it’s too beautiful. I know you made it with your own
hands, the workmanship is exquisite.”
“I understand some words and see admiration
in light eyes. I am pleased. Work envied by women in village.
Someday, I teach Moon Glow Indian skill.”
Melissa looked tenderly at the compassionate
woman. “Thank you,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. Why
was this one so kind? “You are a friend.”
Laughing Tree nodded, “Friend.”
Melissa hugged her new soft gift and didn’t
notice she was alone again until she looked up.
75
SEVENTEEN
Melissa looked at her soiled undergarments,
then quickly disrobed and tried on the dress. It was short,
reaching only a little below her knees and she wasn’t used to her
legs showing. The dress was so comfortable and soft against her
bare skin that it made her feel naughty. She grinned
mischievously.
Would Blue Thunder like me in it?
Oh, what do I care
anyway?
she snapped at her notion.
What’s wrong with me?
She questioned her thoughts. Her only answer was,
I’ve been in the desert too long!
She snorted at her self-analyzing but one thing
she’d say for the redskins, they did know how to dress
comfort-ably. She recalled her shock when first seeing Blue Thunder
clad only in buckskin pants. The sight of his bare chest still made
her skin tingle. She ran her palms down her sides, amazed at the
soft feel, all the time thinking about her Indian’s hands running
down her sides in the same manner.
Her
Indian?
Where did that thought come
from?
From
you
, her conscience chided.
And you better get it out of your head! You have
nothing in common.
Since when did she start scolding herself
and so often?
With her belly full and feeling somewhat
better, she lay down thinking about Blue
Thunder and how much life had changed in
such a short time. She missed her family and prayed that Daphne
would be all right with Seth.
The moon was hidden behind dark clouds when
Blue Thunder returned from his swim. He sat for a while with his
thoughts on the girl in his lodge. He loved her the moment he saw
her by the wagon and still thanked the great spirits for sparing
her life. Fierier than anyone he had ever met, she angered him
beyond limits but he would have her no other way, as long as she
held her tongue among his people. She could fight him all she
wanted in his dwelling, for she stirred
76
the fire in his loins like no other. There
will be many happy moons taming her temper but not too many he
prayed.
Blue Thunder smiled when Licks Too Much came
charging out of the thicket with the stick he had fetched. Dropping
it at his master’s feet, his tail wagged and he drooled trying to
catch his breath. “Had enough exercise, old boy?” The dog barked
then sat licking his shin. “I guess you have. Now, lie down and if
you have any advice for this Apache, I would love to hear it.” He
relayed his thoughts to the dog, but Licks Too Much only looked up
with sad eyes. He sighed long and hard. “Well, old boy, I guess you
do not have a solution. Come on, it is late. Now, you must sleep
outside until the white woman knows you. She has had enough
surprises for now.” The dog whined at his advice but he would
obey.
Blue Thunder found her asleep on the fur
skin rug but frowned that she was still in the dress. Apaches did
not own large wardrobes because animal skins were scarce and used
for many other things besides clothes. His kind didn’t sleep in
clothes, either. No Apache was shamed by
lying on the earth with flesh against flesh.
They do not wear much so the sun god can kiss their bodies with
love and warmth in the warm climate. White man has funny customs,
he thought as he disrobed and snuggled close.
The sleeping girl unconsciously nestled
against his warm body. He looked at her beautiful features,
touching lightly the brown specks across her pert nose. It wiggled
like a rabbit, making him smile. Her face was clearing quickly and
her tender skin was now only slightly pink. How sweet and innocent
she looked but he knew better. He wanted her now and had been
thinking of her ripe body all day.
“Honey Eyes,” he whispered in her ear. “Take
off dress,” he ordered his voice laden with desire. “Ummm,” she
sighed and pushed his hand away, mumbling in her sleep. Blue
Thunder took this as a rejection and snapped, “I said, take off
dress!” His voice lost it gentleness.
Melissa had been dreaming of Blue Thunder
and she was ready for him. He was doing wonderful things to her
body and she was faintly aware of her dress being unlaced. She
liked the feel of the smooth garment and didn’t want to remove it.
Her eyes snapped open as she became
fully awake at the sharp sound of his voice.
All the emotions of that day, the remembrance of