Forever Ecstasy (29 page)

Together she and Joe had battled three-to-two odds in Zeke’s camp. They could do the same here. These men were not on guard and might be weakened by whiskey. Perhaps it was best not to sneak up and slay them as animals during a hunt. Too, she didn’t want to appear a bloodthirsty, wild savage to Joseph Lawrence. As his past words traveled through her mind, she knew it was compromise time.

Morning Star glanced at her handsome companion from the corners of her eyes. His azure gaze was locked on the enemy camp, and his expression was one of intense concentration. The events of the last few weeks filled her mind. Joe was so unlike any man she had known. He was kind and gentle, yet so strong
and self-assured. He possessed a fox’s cunning, a wolf’s daring, and a hawk’s speed during a strike at its prey. The color of heaven lived in his eyes; the golden sun reflected on his head; the shade of a tanned doe hide spread over his muscled body. He had all the traits and skills of a highly trained warrior, ones that would require a great force to defeat. His voice could be as soothing to a troubled spirit as rippling water in a stream or as powerful as a strong wind that blew where it willed. It was as if many forces of nature touched, honed, and controlled him. As one who lived in a world of nature, that pulled her closer to him.

So why, Morning Star mused, was it so terrible to desire such a special man, a man chosen and sent to them by the Great Spirit? Her wits responded that desire wasn’t the main problem; yielding to it was. They warned her she must retain the strength to avoid dishonoring her family by surrendering to a forbidden situation. They demanded she be true to her parents, traditions, and people. If only, she worried, that task didn’t become harder by the day! Resisting Joe was difficult, particularly when she didn’t view it as wrong, as her people and laws did. Her grandfather and uncle had met, loved, and joined white women. If warriors could capture and bond with female enemies, why was it so wicked and shameful for an Indian maiden to do the same with a white man? It was unfair! With more and more whites entering their territory, the two cultures could not remain separate long.

A breeze from the north picked up in pace and strength. It ruffled Joe’s tawny hair, but lacked enough power to have any effect on the maiden’s heavy braids. It brought the campfire smell to them. It enticed tranquil nature to life. Grass bent southward, as if too lazy or weak to stand tall against such a force. Leaves moved as if trembling with cold. Fragrances of wildflowers drifted on the air currents. The breeze felt refreshing on their skin. It was a peaceful time of day. If only they did not have the dangerous chore awaiting them, they could relax and enjoy it.

Joe inhaled the mingled odors of simmering beans and perked coffee that wafted in the wind. He was glad his hungry stomach did not growl aloud. It was almost dark, and the less-than-half-moon would help conceal them. The men had eaten,
then settled down to more cards and whiskey. To Joe, they seemed in no hurry to turn in, as if they had no tiring ride ahead tomorrow. He speculated that they were waiting for somebody or something. He’d like to spy until he learned the answer to that puzzle, but it was too risky. Their prey could be awaiting a Crow party to spread lies about the Oglalas, or Snake-Man’s hirelings and a delivery, or the return of their four friends. He couldn’t stay and chance overwhelming odds; nor could he retreat, because he needed some questions answered and a starting point to solve this task.

Joe sensed Morning Star watching him, and it played havoc with his concentration on the camp. He sensed she had mastered her fiery emotions. Being near her was like sailing into the tropics, sultry and invigorating. It inspired suspense about what one would discover in that paradise. She was so alive and full of energetic fire that he could almost warm himself in her glowing essence. Morning Star was sensual, earthy, an innocent child of nature, a woman of provocative and entrancing spirit.

As she lay on the grassy incline beside him, Joe glimpsed lovely legs that were exposed from the way her buckskin dress had hiked up itself from wriggling movements during her observations. The well-fitting garment did more than hint at her shapely and taut figure. The short fringe at elbow-length sleeves grazed coppery skin on her arms; longer fringe at the tail caressed matching flesh on her legs. The beadwork— red, light and dark blue, and yellow— was in the Arapaho design, in line with her alleged identity. It was the same with her matching moccasins with their red mountain symbols rising into blue sky and the double-pointed yellow arrow to indicate the span of Arapaho territory. Her ebony hair, parted down the center, was braided, the ends decorated with colorful rosettes of skilled beadwork on small circles of buckskin. Her features were soft yet defined, giving her a unique beauty. He wanted to stroke her silky flesh, but dared not.

When Morning Star teased her lower lip with her top teeth, Joe had the urge to pull her into his arms so he could do the same. He yearned to feel her mouth against his once more, to taste her sweetness, to coax her response. His loins came to life, and his breathing quickened. He scolded himself for his lapse in
attention to their peril and for his carnal cravings for Sun Cloud’s daughter. He must keep reminding himself of that truth, of that and all the other many obstacles which stood between them, including his implied promise to Sun Cloud.

Joe focused on the still-active camp and frowned. His tension increased by the hour. He wanted this hazardous matter settled soon. It wasn’t good to let anxiety build, as it stole alert and it dulled wits. He studied the location again. It was impossible to sneak over safely without a cover of darkness, which was slow in arriving. He waited.

Morning Star perceived Joe’s attraction to her; it made her happy and worried. She needed his strength of denial to help her retain hers. If he leaned her way, how could she ever resist him? A fierce longing for him mounted within her each day, and she did not know how long she could control it. His warning about the emotional peril of them riding together was accurate. Yet she wanted to be no other place except in his arms. He was so close that she could reach over and touch him, and was tempted to do so.
No,
she ordered.
Always hold your distance or all is lost.

At last, night blanketed the area, but the men added wood to the already dancing flames to brighten their campsite. Joe and Morning Star lingered on the embankment for the right moment to attack and prepared themselves. They removed anything that would make noise and prevent stealth. They covered anything light or shiny that might reflect the moon’s glow or firelight, including Joe’s blond hair. They also discarded anything cumbersome that might slow their pace. When all was ready, they observed with heightened alert, eager to make their move.

When one man stood, stretched, and told his friends he was going to be excused, Joe reacted with haste. “Stay down and quiet,” he whispered into the woman’s ear. “I’ll work my way over and get rid of one of them. Don’t move until I return or signal you,” he ordered in a tone of protectiveness.

After he vanished into the shadows, Morning Star smiled, delighted by his concern. She listened and watched. Joe moved in complete silence, and she was proud of his prowess. She nocked her weapon to be ready to fire an arrow when needed.
She almost held her breath in suspense. This was the first test of their skills during the sacred mission. She prayed that everything would go right.

Time passed. All she heard were muffled voices from the two men near the fire, a pair of owls calling to each other, and the thudding of her heart within her ears. The large fire illuminated the clearing and provided a perfect view of the site. She wondered why they wanted such a big one, when only a slight chill was in the air tonight. Besides, it revealed their number and positions to any foe who happened by. It wasn’t a smart action for men who had gotten away with so many clever deeds! Why were they so reckless— or so confident? Surely it wasn’t a trick to lure them into that trap Joe had feared. If the other four were still nearby, wouldn’t her keen senses detect them? She concentrated on the scene. Her ears strained to catch any warning sound and her eyes searched the shadows for a sign of trouble lurking in them. Nothing. She cautioned herself not to allow her worry over Joe to cloud her judgment and skills.

A man in camp stood and called to the one who had left the lighted area, “Hey, Coop! Wot’s takin’ so long?” When no response came, he called louder, “Coop! Anythin’ wrong?” Nothing, so he yelled again, “Coop, where are ya, man?” then retrieved his rifle.

Morning Star saw the missing man appear at the edge of the campsite, and she froze in panic. There had been plenty of time for Joe to reach and conquer him. What had gone wrong? Where was Sky Warrior? If he’d been unable to attack, why hadn’t he returned to her side?

Joe, discuised in the first man’s jacket and floppy hat, walked closer to his target with a lowered head. He ignored their questions, as his voice would expose him. He hoped to get near enough to clobber the one with the rifle hanging loosely in his grasp and get some answers as to why he and the others had slain that Crow band and framed the Red Hearts. He wasn’t sure how far he would go to force out information; only time would answer that for him. Joe did not reach and overpower the armed man before the other one became suspicious of his behavior and shouted a warning.

“Sompin’s wrong! He ain’t got Coop’s limp! An’ his beard’s
too short!”

The man’s friend turned fast for someone who had been drinking for hours and stared. He comprehended the trick, especially when Joe didn’t refute the warning and identify himself. He yanked up his rifle to shoot.

Joe had no choice but to shove open the jacket, grab his Colt Walker, and fire it. He did so with speed, agility, and accuracy, his lethal bullet striking the shocked man. Before he could turn the nine-inch barrel of his .44 caliber on the last man, who also had lunged for his weapon, it was over. His astonished gaze traced the path of the deadly arrow that struck home with a thud, but it was too dark to see her. He knocked off the hat and shouted, “It’s me, Morning Star! Don’t shoot!”

Guessing the clever ruse unfolding in camp, Morning Star had jumped to her feet and hurried forward to level ground. She had braced herself, aimed, and sent an arrow into the last man’s heart to save Joe’s life.

She rushed forward to his side as he discarded the jacket. “I know is Joe. I see trick. Very cunning. When take long time, I worry.” Her gaze raced over him from head to foot to make certain he was all right. She gave a loud exhale of relief, then watched him check the men.

His blue gaze met her brown one as he reported, “All dead. Thanks for saving my neck again. I’m glad you didn’t panic and that you jumped in when I needed help. That was a good shot. Don’t forget to teach it to me later.” Impressed by her quick reflexes, he smiled and explained, “I stepped on a branch in the dark and exposed myself to that land pirate. He pulled a knife and came at me. Thank goodness he didn’t shout a warning. I knew I had to silence him fast before he did. When I heard another one call to him, I was afraid they might have heard our struggle. I still thought it was worth the chance to get the drop on them with that disguise.”

“Disguise cunning. We make good partners, yes?”

“Yes, we do. I just wish I’d noticed Coop’s limp, but I was talking to you and didn’t see it. He was easy to find in the dark; he wasn’t trying to be quiet. I figured I could get close enough to take them before I gave myself away. I’ll have to work on my sneaky skills. In the cave you said that is was good to be friends
with the dark, but I guess I haven’t learned enough yet. I’m happy you’re here with me, Morning Star.”

“You not angry we kill them?” she asked, looking concerned.

His hand lifted to caress her flushed cheek. “We had no choice this time. Let’s get what we came for and move out fast. I’m still worried about those other four returning. That big campfire makes me suspicious. If they’re still around, that gunfire could bring them running.” Joe didn’t want to risk a shootout with four men who knew of their presence and probably were well armed. During such a battle, it was doubtful he could capture one of the villains to question, and he didn’t want to get pinned down until more culprits arrived. Even if an ambush worked in their favor, leaving too many bodies around would create suspicions in the wrong man— their boss.

“It’s too dark to locate and follow their trail,” he murmured, “and we can’t hang around to see if they come back at first light. They might not be alone. Hopefully they’re long gone and didn’t hear those shots.” Joe glanced at the grim sight they would leave behind. “It’s time to put my other plan in motion,” he told her. “Let’s return these relics to their scaffolds, then ride for Orin McMichael’s trading post to see what we can learn. Don’t forget your arrow; we don’t want innocent Arapahoes blamed for this.”

Morning Star agreed with Joe. Together they collected the stolen Oglala possessions and sacred skull. Joe searched the men’s saddlebags, but found nothing that could aid his mission. While Morning Star packed up the things she wanted returned to the tribal gravesite and recovered her arrow, Joe freed the men’s horses. They returned to their mounts and rode five miles southwestward before making camp.

Exhausted, they ate the dried meat called
wasna
and bread pones called
aguyapi
and washed them down with fresh water. They did not build a campfire, as the area had not been scouted for enemy presence. Morning Star put away their supplies, and Joe prepared their bedrolls. He placed only a short distance between them tonight. Both lay down.

Since their lethal task in the white men’s camp, they had spoken little. Each seemed to be adjusting to the gravity of the episode. Killing men, even in self-defense, did not come easy for
either one. The incident had stressed how serious their mission was and what it would require of them. Many things would be difficult to do, but surely peace was worth that price. Each knew it was wrong to view the situation as a pretense, and each knew they had to do their best not to kill more than necessary. They lay in silence and gazed at the stars overhead. The night seemed too peaceful to hold a deadly confrontation so that reality moved to the backs of their minds. Soon, both drifted off to sleep.