Authors: Janelle Taylor
An hour later, Joe headed for his cabin, to be with his new bride.
Most of the day, Joe remained in the cabin, cramped and barren though it was. He didn’t want his love to become frightened by this sometimes scary voyage. The swirling water around the steamer was as dark as the coffee he had transported to his country from tropical ones far away. The winter thaw and summer rains were long gone, so the water level was lower than Joe or the pilot wanted for a safe and easy voyage. Joe knew there was plenty of time during the trip for Morning Star to witness the passing sites and learn about boats.
Joe could hardly wait to reach home where his mother would help Morning Star buy pretty clothes or have a skilled seamstress make them. He envisioned her begowned and bejeweled,
and him the envy of every man present. The first thing he wanted to purchase was a wedding band to slide on her finger. He used such thoughts to keep his mind off what awaited him there: his dying father.
Joe was ecstatic about a few things. His dreams were coming true: they were married, man and wife, thanks to the chaplain at Tabor. They were sailing—steaming—toward their bright future.
They ate their evening meal in a small dining area, part of the ticket price. The other three passengers—trappers going downriver who were accustomed to seeing men with Indian wives—paid little attention them. Twice during the day, Joe had gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air when they halted to take on more wood for fuel. At last it was night, and they felt relaxed enough in the strange surroundings to share intimacy.
Joe bolted the cabin door and turned to gaze at his wife. He didn’t know he felt a little shy about being alone and getting ready for bed. They had made love many times and had shared a sleeping mat even more times. They were married now, committed to each other for life.
Morning Star experienced the same curious feelings and thoughts. She could not understand why it seemed so different with him tonight. She was happy and excited, and she knew he was, too. Yet…
“Maybe it’s because we know we aren’t alone in this place,” Joe suggested. “Out on the Plains or in the forest, we were away from other people. It was quiet and romantic. This room is small and ugly. We had fresh air and stars around us, we weren’t closed in by brown walls. We’ll be on this boat for a while, so I guess we’ll get used to it.”
“You read my mind as I read trail signs,” she teased. “I miss the open places. But if we did not have this bed, the room would be like a tepee. I will get… used to walls and beds.”
Joe sat on the bed and removed his boots. “At our plantation, the rooms are big. We have plenty of doors and windows to let in fresh air and sunshine. The walls are painted pretty colors, light colors. The floors have rugs with
flowers, as do the chairs and couches. Nice pictures are on the walls and the furniture is comfortable. It’s nothing like this drab cabin, Morning Star.”
“I am sure it is beautiful,” she said, working with difficulty on the small buttons of her new dress.
“Let me help you,” Joe offered. “These can be devils until you get used to them. I never understood why women have such little buttons on their garments. Men’s are bigger and easier to manage.”
As her husband did the task for her, Morning Star reminded, “You must call me Marie, my love. You must… get used to my new name.”
“Marie Lawrence… Mrs. Joseph Lawrence, Junior…. Very nice.”
“I have two new names?” she asked.
Joe explained the custom of a wife taking a husband’s name and told her when she should use each of them.
“It is like the custom of marking spotted buffaloes, cattle,” Morning Star teased. “You white men brand your women with your name.”
“Yep,” he replied, grinning as he slipped the dress off her shoulders. He placed a kiss on each one. “That’s so other men will know they’re private property. I wouldn’t take kindly to any man trying to steal my woman. I want everybody to know you’re mine: Joe’s wife, Joe’s love.”
Both began to relax as their tensions melted and their surroundings were forgotten or ignored. They had been through a harrowing time, but now at last their future had begun.
“We’re safe now, my love, and together forever,” Joe said gently. “No more standing guard at night, at least not on this boat. No more dangers and hardships. I hope we reach my father in time, but if we don’t, we did our best to get to him. He understands what I’m doing out here, and he must know I’m on my way home as fast as possible. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished, and we should never be ashamed of falling in love. In a week, the peace council will begin. When Stede returns home, he’ll tell us all about it. But until we reach St. Louis and take off on horseback, we can rest and
enjoy ourselves. For a while, Marie Lawrence, we will think only of us.”
“I like our words and plans, my husband. It has been a long and lonely time since we joined.” Morning Star lifted her hand to caress his strong jawline, hairless after his shave. Her fingertips rubbed over his full lips and she could not resist the impulse to stroke his powerful torso and to feel his sleek flesh. She gazed into his eyes, a summer sky of inviting blue, and toyed with his sunny hair. She adored its texture and how it framed his face, how its color made his eyes look bluer and his skin darker. “I love you so much it causes me to feel strange inside,” she said passionately. “I see and hear nothing except you. I want nothing but you.”
“That’s how I feel, too, Morning Star. It used to be scary to want you so much, to your effect on me. Not any more. I love you.”
Morning Star unfastened the buttons on his shirt and peeled it off his muscled torso. She dropped it to the floor. His body was as sleek and toned as the best trained warrior’s. He was a splendid man, and he was hers. With Joe nearby and touching her, nothing mattered except him and their love. There was no shame and no regrets. Their bond was pure and right. She was ready to face the challenges before her. As she unlaced the ribbons on her chemise, she remarked, “White garments are strange.”
“But they’re fun to remove,” he teased, slipping it over her head. He pulled her back into his arms, their bare skin making blissful contact. Her nearness caused his heart to race with desire. He captured her hands and lifted them to his mouth to place kisses on her fingers, her knuckles, and her wrists. He turned one over and let his tongue play in its palm, which evoked soft laughter from her. Slowly, his lips journeyed up one arm to her shoulder, her throat, and then her face. His hands drifted up and down her back a few times, then sent his fingers into her cascading hair. He loved the way the ebony mane felt wound around them. His lips went to hers.
Their tongues played a seductive game of seek and find, then mated in a heady ritual. Their bodies trembled with
passion, building to a frenzied level. Their flesh clung together, sharing warmth and pleasure. Their hands and lips teased and tempted. They were spellbound in a world of love and magic, and nothing could destroy it or break it.
Morning Star quivered and tingled. Her legs felt weak and her body heavy. It had been weeks since they had come together at Spearfish Canyon. Her heart was filled with longing. Her breath came in shallow, quick gasps; then it was stolen by his kiss. Her entire body experienced a rush of heat and tingling, a blend of wild sensations.
Joe’s hands slipped around her sides and closed over her firm breasts. With gentleness, he kneaded them. His mouth roved her face and his nose inhaled her sweet fragrance. His manhood ached to be within her; it burned with a need only she could satisfy. Her tongue danced with his, and he savored the taste of her. He moaned in bittersweet need.
Joe paused to remove the rest of their constricting garments. He pushed the dress over her hips and followed it with her bloomers. He lifted Morning Star in his arms and placed her on the bed. Without delay, he was out of his clothes, naked, aroused, and lying beside his wife.
For a while, he made love to her with his eyes, caressing, tantalizing. To him, she was exquisite, perfect, beautiful, irresistible. He nibbled at her ears, and caused her to laugh once more. His mouth claimed hers again to explore and to heighten their desires. His hands were bold, determined, skilled.
Joe’s hot breath on her made Morning Star’s yearning for him flame brighter. She trailed her fingers over his honed frame, savored his manly scent. His body was hard, smooth, and golden. Her fingers wanted to trace every inch. She stroked the injuries he had received at Bear Butte and she felt the scar he had gotten from her rescue. Yet, nothing detracted from his beauty. She felt aglow with love, afire with passion, and fortunate to have him. No man could compare with Joe, in appearance or in character. He was more important to her than her life and honor, something she had proven with more than words. She was alive, elated, and fulfilled in his arms. For once she did not care if a man,
but only this man, took control of her will and her body, of her entire being. She surrendered with eagerness. She responded and reacted to every touch, every kiss, every action, then she mutely begged for more. She had known great rapture in his arms, but tonight she found ecstasy.
Joe’s hands trekked over her silky skin. She was so close, so intoxicating, so responsive. Her lithe body evoked him to stimulate it. As lightly as a butterfly, his lips brushed over her breasts. His tongue swirled round and round one bud to sample its nectar. His teeth teased at the taut nubs that revealed the intensity of her desire and his effect upon her. Their contact and her reactions played havoc with his mastery over his raging loins. He had never felt more alive or inflamed than he did now. He was almost mindless with hunger for her.
Morning Star trembled when his hand drifted down her flat stomach. Her entire being was enthralled by him. Reality had fled long ago. He and his actions were her only awareness. She wanted to relax and enjoy the sweet pleasures, but she was too ravenous with need. Each kiss and touch pleased her, but they whet her appetite for much more. She seemed swept away in a flood of bliss. Her hands grasped his shoulders and clutched them tightly. She wanted, she needed, she must have Joseph Lawrence or be dazed with starvation. Soon, there was no place upon her that did not cry out for his attention. As with him, muffled moans escaped her lips between feverish kisses.
Joe fingered the petal-soft flesh between her thighs until she urged him to end the sweet madness. He entered her body with a groan of delight. His breathing became labored and swift with his excitement and the strain of his self-control. He kissed her over and over as he murmured words of love and pleasure. “You’re like a fierce desire burning within me. I need you and love you, woman.” He felt her work with him, matching his rhythm.
Morning Star’s legs wrapped around his and her arms clung to him. Her mouth meshed with his as her heart pounded and her blood raced hot and fast. She saw and felt the muscles of his arms and back as they rippled with his
movements. “You are my air, my heart, my life. I want no one but you.”
Joe tossed restraint aside and hurried after her. Higher and higher Sky Warrior soared with her on his wings. He grasped the star in his heaven and let it shine on him.
Morning Star held on to the all-consuming man and let her body yield completely to his touch, thrilling to the ecstasy they reached together.
Joe lay half atop Morning Star as he held her tightly in love’s aftermath. His gaze roamed her flushed face. Her dark eyes glistened with joy. His heart’s filled with love for her, pounded in his chest. He had never, even with her, experienced anything like this, a total joining of all they were. His fingers traced her lips, nose, and cheeks.
“Lordy, how I love you, woman. Every time I think my heart is so full it can’t hold more, somehow it stretches and does. Every time I make love to you, it’s better than the last time, better than all the other times put together. I don’t know how it happens, but I surely do like it.”
“I understand. It is the same with me. Perhaps it is the way of love, to grow larger and stronger each day, with each union. It is not the joining of bodies that does this alone; it is all the things that travel with it. I have made the right choice—you, my love, my husband.”
Joe gazed into her serene eyes and smiled. They had faced thunder in the wind together, and they had found sweet ecstasy during that fierce battle. “We both made the right choice, my beautiful Morning Star, my sweet Marie, my wife, my woman, the true love of my heart and soul.”
She laughed, a glow in her eyes. “I am many things to you, as you are many things to me. It is best of all things you are my love, my husband, my destiny.”
Joe rolled to his back, and his wife curled against him. Her right leg slipped between his. Joe’s left hand pillowed his head; the other one twirled ebony hair around playful fingers. Morning Star nestled her cheek to her husband’s broad chest. The backs of her fingers stroked his damp flesh. For an hour, they remained quiet as each reflected on their lives before and since they met. They had experienced
many dangers, tests, and adventures together. They had suffered and sacrificed for others. It was time for them, time for their own happiness.
Time for receiving life’s rewards.
Morning Star pondered the challenges behind her, and those still before her. She had Joe to make her strong and brave. Whatever tomorrow brought, she was ready and willing to face. She was Morning Star, daughter of Sun Cloud and Singing Wind; she was the granddaughter of Gray Eagle and Alisha/Shalee; she was Marie Lawrence, wife and love of Mahpiya Wicasta, the greatest white warrior to ever ride the open Plains. Each of them was controlled by fate, and she accepted that reality.
Thank you, Mother and Father, for your love and understanding, for all you taught me,
she silently prayed.
Thank you, Payaba, for your vision long ago and for many years of friendship. Thank you, Great Spirit for giving me this man.
Morning Star bid a final farewell to the past and welcomed the bright future before her. In the days ahead, she would draw courage, strength, and comfort from all she had been, from all she was, and from all she would become. Peace of mind filled the daughter of the Red Heart chief.