Magnificent Passage (39 page)

The soft mat of his chest hair felt warm against the swell
of her breasts. His firm lips tantalized her as he eased himself into her. She held tightly to his lean hips and pulled him closer, wanting to consume him with her love. His massive frame covered her completely. He filled her with every thrust. She was in a world of sensuous torture. She knew he was holding back, being careful not to hurt her, yet wanting her to taste the sweetness of fulfillment. Swiftly it came—a thousand stars exploded in unison. She cried out her happiness, her love.

Afterward, they lay peacefully entwined in each other's arms, their demons at rest—at least for a time.

A
t Hawk's insistence, and finally at peace, Mandy rested for two more days.

The following spring morning, Bright Feather, one of the women, gave Mandy a fringed leather dress and led her to the stream. The icy water felt wonderfully refreshing after her long confinement. She bathed, washed her hair, then let it hang loose to dry. She returned to the teepee and waited impatiently for Hawk to return.

He entered the lodge wearing clean buckskins and a broad smile.

“You make a fine-looking squaw,” he teased. Then he scooped her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “There is something we haven't discussed, little one.”

She looked up at him thoughtfully. “And just what might that be?”

“Our forthcoming wedding.” His eyes twinkled merrily and a boyish grin appeared.

“Oh, Hawk!” She raised on tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck in a big hug. “I thought you'd never ask.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it's a yes!” Hawk lifted her off the ground and whirled her around the teepee. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

“Tonight you meet my family. Tomorrow I'll go to the trading post and get a wire off to your father and uncle. I know they'll be relieved to hear you're safe. I would have wired them sooner, but I wasn't quite sure . . . ” His voice trailed off and she knew he was thinking of her illness.

“You're fit now,” he said, “and nothing's going to spoil our happiness.” He nuzzled her neck and buried his face in her hair.

“Are you sure your family will like me?” she asked, frowning a little at the thought.

“Like you? Why, you're practically a legend here in the mountains.” The dark image of Swift Eagle pressing himself into her body flashed across his mind. He willed it away, but the fleeting grimace did not go unnoticed.

“What were you thinking just then? I've seen that look before.”

“I was only wishing you were already my wife,” he lied, determined not to hurt her. “That we didn't have to suffer through the ceremony.”

“I don't believe you. You were thinking about Swift Eagle, weren't you?” She knew there must be gossip in the village, speculation about what had happened on her journey through the mountains with the renegade band.

His expression became grim. “I told you it is unimportant.” As his temper flared, he slipped into stilted Cheyenne-English. “We will not discuss it again—now or ever!”

“We will discuss it! Right now! You don't own me yet, and even after we marry, I'll have my say!” She glowered at him.

He glowered back, then gave an exasperated sigh. “All right, just this once, but I mean it, Sam, never again.”

She knew what it had cost him to concede to her wishes. “Swift Eagle didn't force himself on me,” she told him.

“You mean you consented to bed him? You went willingly!” Outrage distorted his features. “Why are you telling me this? I don't want to hear another word!” He pushed her roughly aside and stormed toward the tiny opening. She caught him as he stooped to leave and pulled him back into the teepee, down onto a buffalo robe beside the entrance.

“Will you listen to me! I didn't consent to anything. Swift Eagle never asked. He never . . . nothing ever happened,” she finished.

He tilted her face up, searching her eyes for the truth. “Swift Eagle never bedded you?”

“No.”

He shook his head, then smiled at her ruefully. “No wonder they speak of you with such awe. Swift Eagle has paid you the highest compliment. He meant to take you to wife. I'm sorry I had to kill him.”

“As am I. The other braves wanted to take me, but he wouldn't let them. They took the other woman instead.” She saddened at the painful memory.

He hugged her to him. “Then it's done. We'll talk no more of the past.”

She wouldn't let it rest. “No. There is one thing more.” She held his gaze. She could feel the heat of his hand where it rested possessively on her thigh, even through the thick folds of the leather garment.

“It's about Mark Denton.” She saw him wince ever so slightly, but he made no move to silence her. “He and I . . . we never . . . ” she stammered, trying to find the words. “That night you passed us in the carriage. I went only as far
as the door. I was jealous. I wanted to make you jealous, too.... There has never been another . . . only you. I have been your woman in my heart since that first time.”

Hawk knew she spoke the truth and his heart soared. He kissed her deeply, intending only to show his love. But the spark of desire ignited between them. As they made love on the buffalo robe his heart was filled with joy.

That night at the campfire, Mandy stood anxiously as Hawk presented her to his family.

“This is my father, Strong Arrow, and my mother, Willow Wind.” He introduced Mandy formally, using her Indian name, Wishana. Hawk translated Strong Arrow's response.

A high chief of the Cheyenne nation, Strong Arrow looked every inch the warrior. Tall and proud like his son, he betrayed no emotion. His straight nose and high cheekbones spoke of his heritage, and only the tiny sparkle in his black eyes told of the pride he felt in his son.

“My father says to tell you he has heard the stories of your bravery. He thinks your name, Wishana, is wisely chosen.” Hawk squeezed her hand.

“Tell your father I thank him. Tell him I know he must be a fine man to have raised such a wise and courageous son.” Hawk colored at her praise and she thought how much she loved him.

He repeated her words to his father, then his mother spoke, handing him a bundle. She was a small woman not much taller than Mandy. Her skin was brittle, veined, and translucent, but her mind was keen and her love for her son
obvious in the expression on her withered face. Hawk stroked her leathery cheek affectionately, then turned back to Mandy.

“My mother says she will be proud to call you daughter. She hopes she lives to see many fine grandchildren.”

It was Mandy's turn to blush.

Hawk winked at her and continued. “She gives you this gift with her love.” He handed her the bundle.

Mandy unfolded the bundle gently. It was a fringed garment of fine white leather. She held it in front of her. It was straight cut and open at the neck, and Mandy could see it would fit perfectly in the hips and fall gently to about the middle of her calf. Hawk explained to her the garment was made of elk-skin tanned with a special mountain clay to give it the light color. In style, it was not unlike the heavy leather garment she wore, but this was much softer, feather-light, and painstakingly beaded in colorful designs of turquoise and white. A pair of matching beaded high-topped moccasins were handed to her next.

Tears touched Mandy's eyes at the old woman's generosity. “Tell Willow Wind my mother died many years ago. Since then, I have had an empty place in my heart. Tell her I am fortunate to find another I can love in her place.”

Hawk translated, and the old woman beamed with pleasure.

Mandy, Hawk, Strong Arrow, and Willow Wind ate together that night. Mandy was taken to another teepee after they finished. Cheyenne custom dictated the pair would not see each other again until after the wedding. She was glad Hawk had been discreet in their lovemaking. The
Cheyenne were very moral people. Only the fact that she was white and considered a captive allowed him to keep her in his lodge. Now that he had formally declared his intentions, strict Cheyenne codes would apply. Mandy gave Hawk a sorrowful look as she was led away. He appeared none too happy himself, but soon they would be man and wife—at least in the world of the Cheyenne.

Early in the evening two lonely nights later, Mandy bathed carefully at a private place in the stream. Bright Feather and Spotted Buffalo Woman attended her, and though she could not understand more than the few words Hawk taught her, it was easy to grasp the meaning of their embarrassed giggles.

Back in the teepee, Mandy dried her hair, then brushed it until it gleamed. She sat while the two Indian women plaited it into thick braids that hung down each side of her neck almost to her waist. Tiny blue cornflowers, their perfume mild but sweet, were expertly woven into the braids.

Mandy was getting more nervous by the minute. There was an air of anticipation in the camp, and the thudding of the drums matched the pounding of her heart. She took a deep breath to steady herself, slipped into the soft elkskin dress, then allowed the women to rub a tiny trace of red berry juice on her lips. Spotted Buffalo Woman placed a garland of the same pale blue flowers on top of Mandy's head. She wasn't quite sure how she looked, but she certainly felt pretty.

The rhythm of the drums beat louder. Mandy could feel the vibrations in the ground beneath her feet. She felt a
shiver of anticipation as the women lifted the flap of the teepee and beckoned her forward.

Since Mandy had no family in the camp, Spotted Buffalo Woman would do the honors of leading her, mounted on Hawk's big roan, to the lodge of her future father-in-law.

The spring air was brisk but not uncomfortable, and was scented heavily with the smell of pine. A huge fire crackled in the middle of the grassy flat, and warriors pounding skincovered drums ringed the blaze. Spotted Buffalo Woman helped Mandy up on the horse and led the animal to Strong Arrow's lodge. As custom dictated, Mandy was ceremoniously carried into the lodge on a blanket. Once inside, she was ritually dressed again in another new beaded dress provided by the mother of the groom. Shawls, rings, bracelets, leggings, and moccasins were given to her as gifts.

Afterward, she was led outside. Her gaze searching, Mandy spotted a warrior, taller than the rest and fairer of skin, standing next to Strong Arrow, and recognized the man who would soon be her husband.

Seeing the pride and happiness on Hawk's handsome face, Mandy smiled brightly, her heart near bursting with pleasure. She was led to his side and the ritual was completed.

Strong Arrow provided the feast, though Hawk told her it was usually a gift from the family of the bride.

Finally, she and Hawk were able to escape. Hawk held her hand and looked at her with love in his eyes—and something more. A smile tugged at Mandy's lips as she recognized the heated look and thought of the nights they'd spent apart.

In silent agreement, they headed toward Hawk's lodge.
As they got closer, Mandy saw garlands of flowers decorating the entrance. Inside, more flowers greeted them, the pallet of buffalo robes had been widened, and the smell of fresh pine needles rose from beneath. It looked deep and soft, and she blushed at the thought of the pleasures ahead.

Hawk gathered his tiny new wife in his arms and cradled her against him. In his bachelorhood he had never realized how much he longed for this feeling of completeness.

“I've waited all my life for this moment, though I never knew it until now.”

“You make me so happy,” she whispered.

He pulled something from a small leather pouch that hung at his waist and carefully opened his palm. “Lose this?”

“How did you? . . .” She picked up the dainty jeweled kitten with its tiny diamond eyes.