Forever Ecstasy (53 page)

Joe told his new friend about Jim’s message saying help was on the way. “All we have to do is stay out of their sights until it arrives. Now that we know who Snake-Man is and who’s working for him, I have a scheme for entrapping that bastard and his gang. While we fetch something we need to make it work, you watch for Stede and the soldiers near Fort Tabor. Try to catch them before Bart and the others know they’re in the territory. We need secrecy for my plan to work.” He explained it to Clay and Morning Star. She smiled and nodded agreement.

But Clay ventured, “What if Jim never got his message sent? What if the soldier he assigned to deliver it is one of Snake-Man’s boys? Or what if he never reaches Fort Laramie? Lots of dangers between here and there. Besides, what you’ve got in mind is risky. Crazy,” he added.

Before dawn, Joe gave Clay a letter to mail home, addressed to his sister to pass through Pierre, changing his contact to Stede. He told his family he would finish his mission and leave here in six to eight weeks. The couple headed west to fetch an item needed to carry out their daring plan.

Clay, who would leave soon, watched them ride away. He shook his head. If Joe’s plan didn’t get them killed, the forces after them might. All they could all do was hope that help was on the way.

A week later at Slim Buttes, Joe and Morning Star spied on Black Moon’s camp from a rock formation near the site. The invisible new moon allowed them to get close without being seen. Many campfires illuminated the Crow area enough to see what was taking place.

They had ridden fast and hard to carry out their hazardous task, the August days providing long hours of needed daylight. They had stayed on full alert, but confronted no peril during the arduous journey.

They were glad sunset had released them from the demands of the summer heat. The area needed rain, and they would welcome its cooling effect. The ground was dry and hard. Prairie grasses had changed to shades of yellow, tan, and gold. Some had withered, but most were of hearty varieties well suited to this climate. Animals were still abundant, as if no tribe had slaughtered many for winter rations.

The camp beyond them was busy and noisy. Two wagons stood to its right with four white strangers. Women and children rummaged contents of crates and cloth sacks. Indian men were in a section of trees to the left, guzzling the recently arrived whiskey and examining the trinkets.

“Must be those four men who escaped our attack at Rake’s Hollow,” Joe whispered. “Looks as if Orin has sent plenty of firewater and gifts to settle them down until more guns and ammunition arrive.”

Morning Star concurred with his conclusions. She listened to the drumming that provided music for the drunken warriors
to dance to. The braves moved about as they laughed, shared tall tales of past exploits, and boasted of future raids on the Lakotas. Such bloody plans had to be prevented, even at the cost of her life. She didn’t know how either or both of them could get to the chief to steal the watch Orin had given to him, the bait needed to lure their foe into Joe’s clever trap. She invoked the Great Spirit’s help, guidance, and protection.

After two hours of drinking and merrymaking, Black Moon staggered to a fallen tree, sank to the ground, and rested his head against it. He appeared to be dazed or asleep. Every so often, a few women brought over food, delivered more whiskey in buffalo paunches, and obeyed other orders.

Morning Star recognized the opportunity the Great Spirit had placed before her eyes. As was common on such an occasion, where food and drink were in such wild abundance, the men paid little attention to the females serving their needs. “I will cover my hair and shoulders with a blanket to hide my face and Arapaho markings,” she told Joe. “I can sneak to Black Moon, pretend to help him, and take the possession we need.”

“It’s too dangerous. You’ll be in the middle of those crazy warriors.”

Morning Star knew the risk she would be taking. She was scared, but confident. “I will be careful. He is away from the others. Women come and go. It is the only path to victory. I must walk it, fast and alone.”

Joe studied the area as he recalled how cunningly she had rescued him and all she had done at his side. It was a big risk, but she could do it. Too, it was the only way to get their hands on that bait. If they could pull off his trap, war would be averted and their future could begin. He agreed.

Morning Star tossed a blanket over her head and positioned it around her face and shoulders. With the assistance of the dark moon, she crept toward the site. She lowered her head and casually went to where the chief lay, snoring and sprawled on the ground. She knelt and straightened his limbs, placed another folded blanket beneath his head, and lifted an empty water pouch that reeked of whiskey. As Joe had instructed, she unfastened the musical watch from the cut in Black Moon’s vest where he wore it. She secreted it into her garments, then
did the same with his knife as a raid gift for her father. She rose, with lowered head, and left the trees. She was quickly encompassed by dark shadows and ran with skill and caution to Joe’s side. “You did it,” he praised her success, then kissed her. Morning Star allowed herself to relax for the first time since leaving him. She returned the kiss, elated by her daring coup. When they parted, he said, “Let’s make tracks, woman.” “No, we must not. We do not wish them to follow us.” Joe chuckled softly. “That means, let’s leave fast,” he explained.

They rode ten miles in the darkness, traveling at a walk to prevent accidents. They camped on Antelope Creek, too weary to do more than take turns standing guard and sleeping.

Friday around five-thirty, they reached Spearfish Canyon. Morning Star told him the direction to take while she rode to the rear, concealing their trail to the lovely location. The valley near the northern boundary of the Black Hills was lush and green, smelling of spruce and pine and fresh air. It was sheltered from the outside world, but unused this time of year when the Plains beckoned nomadic hunters. Ebony peaks, spires, and rocks loomed beyond their gazes. Timber and grass were abundant. Deer, elk, and birds favored the enclosed area. A towering waterfall cascaded over a line of ivory limestone cliffs, its roar loud. The rush of liquid was so white that almost looked like running ice or snow. The clear blue creek it created journeyed for miles through the area, playing around rocks or twigs in its path.

Joe looked around and smiled. It was the perfect spot to spend what would probably be their last time together until victory was won and their love revealed. They could remain here only tonight and a short time tomorrow. It would require three to four days to reach Sun Cloud’s third camp of the season, which Morning Star said he would be at by now. Their rest in this canyon would provide safety while Clay guided help to
Sun Cloud at Buffalo Gap. If all went as planned, they would be in her father’s tepee only one or two days— hopefully not long enough to endanger the Red Hearts.

Joe tended the horses while she unpacked their supplies. As the two animals grazed, he went with her to collect firewood. As they foraged for fuel to feed the fire, Joe felt a thump on his back. He turned as Morning Star tossed another pinecone at him, then giggled as her eyes sparkled.

“A big coup to strike great warrior without slaying him,” she jested.

“Is that so?” he replied with a broad grin. “I thought you had to touch the enemy without slaying him. Let’s see if Sky Warrior can earn a coup.”

When Joe came after her, Morning Star squealed, dropped the wood, and raced behind a spruce. She darted from side to side as Joe attempted to round the tree and capture her. They both laughed as they romped like children in the idyllic location, perils forgotten for a while.

“You’re fast and clever, woman, but I’ll get you,” he playfully warned.

Morning Star dashed for the stream, thinking Joe would halt. She hurried to the waterfall. As she was splattered, she shrieked, “It is cold!”

Joe reached her, grasped her wrist, and pulled her toward him. “Let me warm you,” he murmured as his mouth closed over hers.

They kissed with great need. Soon, the chilly water soaking them went unnoticed in the heat of rising passion. They removed their garments and flung the drenched items to the bank. They splashed and bathed themselves and each other. The water’s temperature enlivened them as their bodies burned hotter with raging desires. They explored each other’s flesh with hands and lips, removing clear drops in their paths.

Soon, Joe scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the lush grass. They rolled upon the soft surface as they tantalized and tempted each other beyond self-control. Grass tickled their skin, as did mischievous fingers and daring lips. Both were enthralled by the other and neither wanted to wait much longer.

Joe entered her body to join them together as one force striving for unity of hearts and spirits. He felt as if everything he was and knew was bound to this moment in time, to the love in his embrace. This woman tempted, sated, and completed him as no other ever could. He was eager for the day when everyone would know that truth, accept it, and abide by it.

Morning Star thrilled to the way Joe made her feel. He loved her fully, honestly, and thoroughly. She enjoyed giving him pleasure, and savored how his responses affected her. Just to touch him brought rapture. To gaze into his adoring eyes warmed her soul. To kiss him drove her wild. To feel his hands and mouth upon her evoked ecstasy. To mate with him was beauty and delight beyond measure and words.

They lay nestled as their bodies returned to normal. The grass made a soft bed. They gazed at the sky above and felt its tranquility within themselves. They listened to the rush of water over the cascade and to birds singing. They smelled clean air, evergreens, wildflowers, and the erotic scent of love. They were at peace in their verdant and romantic haven.

Finally, Joe teased, “If we don’t get moving, love, we’ll both be asleep. I’ll wash off, then help you cook.”

“I will join you, but it will be more cold. The sun goes to sleep. How do you say this?” she asked, knowing she had spoken wrong.

“I will join you, but the water will be colder. The sun is setting, or going down,” he corrected, then he shifted to gaze to her eyes. As his fingers pushed aside stray hair from her lovely face, he murmured, “I love you, Morning Star. You’ve learned so much; I’m proud of you.” His fingers caressed delicate features. “I want you and need you more than I realized. This will be over soon, then we’ll leave to begin our life together. I can’t wait to marry you and know you’re mine forever.”

Morning Star drew his mouth to hers and kissed him. She looked into his serene gaze and cautioned, “When we reach my camp, we must not reveal our feelings. We must wait until the sacred victory is ours.”

A troubled look filled his blue eyes as a streak of panic ran through him. “Promise you won’t change your mind about me,” he urged.

Morning Star smiled and vowed, “I will not. I love you. We must be mates for life. But we must take no risk with victory.”

“I understand and agree. We’re too close to success to endanger it.”

They made love again the following morning before they dressed. It was time to go home, to put their cunning plan into motion. They would camp tonight on Elk Creek; tomorrow night, on the southern branch of the Cheyenne. Late the next day, they would reach Buffalo Gap.

Monday nearing dusk, Joe and Morning Star walked their horses into Sun Cloud’s last camp of the hunting season. Her parents and people halted their shared tasks to greet them. Both smiled and dismounted. Young braves took their mounts to tend them.

“Come, sit, rest,” the chief invited the weary travelers. Sun Cloud’s keen glance scanned both, but nothing seemed amiss. He did detect friendship and closeness, but that was not unusual for cousins and partners. He was glad they seemed to trust, like, and respect each other. The Great Spirit had brought them together and sent them on the sacred quest. Sun Cloud thanked his god for protecting his child and the son of Stede.

As they took places on the buffalo mats that Singing Wind spread for them, Buckskin Girl hurried forward to offer the couple refreshments. Morning Star knew her friend was anxious to hear news of her missing love, but both women realized that personal talk would have to wait until later.

“Tell us of your adventures,” the chief encouraged.

People gathered around the seated group to hear news of their daring exploits. Elderly Red Heart males threw down mats for relaxation during the talk. Children pressed close to parents’ legs. Warriors were on alert, eager to learn of any impending threat to their band. Women studied the handsome paleface with their leader’s daughter. Night Stalker, his timid wife, and contrary son stood nearby, both parents grasping a
hand of the unruly
boy.

Joe related the events since their last report. He witnessed the awe and approval for Morning Star’s participation, particularly her daring rescue of him from the Crow. He went over it in detail to give her all the credit she deserved. “She’s out of danger now. Stede and Indian Agent Tom Fitzpatrick will arrive soon with help to finish the task. She will not need to leave camp again. You,” he said to Sun Cloud, “will lead your band of warriors in the final battle, if there is one. I pray we can end the matter without a bloody conflict. We’re certain Orin McMichael is Snake-Man. After we send a brave warrior to him with the watch from Black Moon, he’ll be forced to come and meet with the Crow chief and will be snared.”

When Joe revealed how they had gotten hold of the token to be used in the trap, more praise was spoken for Morning Star. He watched her give her father Black Moon’s knife as a raid prize. Joe saw the chief examine it, smile, then lean over to embrace her with pride.

“You have done as the sacred vision claimed, my daughter. Your coups are many and your legend will be great; they will shine as brightly as those of Gray Eagle. Songs will be sung and stories told of She-Who-Rode-With-The-Sky-Warrior. My heart feels much joy at your victories and safe return. I am glad you are home and your task is finished. Sky Warrior,” he addressed Joe. “You have done well, my brother and friend. Bring me the gift I made for him to carry in the final battle,” he instructed Wind Bird.