Magnificent Passage (40 page)

“One of Swift Eagle's tribesmen said it belonged to the woman with the courage of a lion. He said Swift Eagle meant for you to have it back.”

She eyed the jeweled cat, then turned her gaze to Hawk. “You did buy it for me, didn't you?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Merry Christmas.” All conversation ended as he lifted her chin and covered her mouth with a tender kiss. He could feel her tremble at his touch and groaned inwardly as he remembered a hundred lonely nights and the agony of these past few days, missing her small warm body lying beside him.

She looked beautiful tonight. The elkskin dress gently molded the rounded curves of her figure. Her upturned breasts seemed to heave in rhythm to the sensual beat of the drums. His forehead beaded with perspiration as the
physical need for her swept through him. He parted her lips with his tongue and sought the berry-sweet depths of her mouth. He slipped an arm beneath her knees and carried her to the soft nest created for them on this special night.

Mandy felt his tenderness as he set her down. His lips left hers only for a moment as he undressed quickly and returned to her side. He pulled the soft leather dress smoothly over her head. When his lips closed over hers again, she felt the tiny flame of passion burst into a thousand fires. His hands were everywhere, soothing, kneading, stroking her heated flesh. His lips moved like embers from the hollow of her throat to the tips of her breasts, then parted to taste her nipples.

Everything about him aroused her. She loved the smell of him, rich with pine soap, and a smoky hint of the campfire. He tasted of wild gooseberries. His legs felt sinewy and hard as he moved to cover her with his muscular body. She tensed in anticipation as he parted her legs and she felt his male need. He entered her slowly, possessively, as if in this one moment he would brand her as his for all time. She knew theirs was a rare love, as timeless as the winds across the mountains.

Her passion began to build, his thrusts no longer gentle. Her body surged upward, meeting his again and again. Her nerves grew taut, her body rigid. She reached fulfillment, crying out in her happiness and love, and he followed her to release.

Their glistening bodies lay entwined upon the robes and they held each other tightly as if each were afraid to believe such good fortune.

Though the night was late, there were hours before dawn, and Hawk lifted her to the stars again and again.

Finally, just before dawn, they rested. Content in each other's arms at last, neither Mandy nor Hawk was willing to give thought to the problems that might lay ahead.

H
awk bent over the sleeping figure nestled beside him. After their night of lovemaking, her hair lay softly disheveled across the wolfskin pillow; her lips still carried the blush of his kisses. He reached out a finger to stroke her cheek and saw the fringe of her lashes stir. She opened her eyes and smiled.

“How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Langley?” he teased, kissing the tip of her nose playfully.

“I feel wonderful, Mr. Langley.” She stretched her arms and yawned with great satisfaction, then paused, a tiny furrow creasing her brow. It did not go unnoticed.

He tilted her chin. “What was that for?”

“What was what for?” she said.

“You know very well what I'm talking about.” He sat up, his mood darker at her evasive answer.

She sighed and squared her shoulders. “You don't miss a thing, do you?” she said, not expecting an answer. “It's just that, well, after last night, it's easy to think of myself as Black Hawk's squaw. I wasn't certain if you meant me to be Mrs. Langley as well.” She glanced away from him, uncertain what she would see in his eyes.

“Is that all!” Hawk felt relieved. He nuzzled her shoulder and kissed the curve of her neck. “I should be finished here
by the end of the month. We can leave for Fort Laramie as soon as I'm through. I fully expect to endure the entire ritual again at the fort.” He laughed, lowered his head, and kissed her soundly as proof of his intentions.

She beamed up at him. “In my heart I've been married to you since that first night, but still . . . ”

“Still, you want all of Willow Wind's grandchildren to be recognized by your father and uncle as well?”

“Yes . . . ” she agreed shyly.

“I would allow it to be no other way.” He pulled her into his arms and wiped away her happy tears. “I love you so damn much.” He pushed her into the thick robes and kissed her. After their endless hours of lovemaking he was sure he could not be aroused again this morning, but his body, with a will of its own, would not be denied. He cupped a full breast with his hand and teased the rosy crest. As sated as he knew she was, he could feel her body respond and chuckled proudly at his prowess.

They stayed in the wedding lodge for two full days. Food was brought to them—they left the teepee only to bathe and tend to their private needs.

By the third day they were ready, reluctantly, to face the outside world.

“We will be here only two or three more weeks,” Hawk explained as they dressed. “Still, you will be expected to do your share of the daily work. It is the Cheyenne way.”

“I'm honored to be accepted into your tribe. I look forward to helping.”

He smiled at her proudly. “Willow Wind will instruct you. It may be difficult for you to understand without the language. Just do your best.”

“What will you be doing?” she asked.

“More of what I came here to do. I have a meeting with Crazy Horse. As with my tribe, both he and Sitting Bull have so far evaded the reservation. Their villages are west of here, farther into the Buffalo Territories.”

“But Crazy Horse is Sioux, not Cheyenne. Can you speak his language?”

“I speak several Indian tongues including Sioux, and sign is the language of all the plains.” He smiled. “Whether he'll listen to what I have to say is another matter altogether, but I have to try. That's what I was sent here for.”

“But I thought when Red Cloud signed the treaty—”

“All the tribes are disgruntled by the broken promises of the whites, especially Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. The situation's heating up. The raid on the stage was just one example.” He laced up his moccasins. “I'm afraid their struggle is futile—there are just too many whites—but I also understand why they have to fight.” He sighed, experiencing the feeling of helplessness that had plagued him since he arrived.

“The bloodshed has been far too great already. If there's any way to avert more of it, I have to try.”

She looked at him, an expression of worry mingled with pride creasing her brow. “I know you do. It's one of the reasons I love you so much. When will you be leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning. The sooner I go, the sooner I'll be back. Once I'm satisfied I've done all I can, we'll leave for the fort.... I hope you don't plan on a long visit.”

“Just long enough to clear the air with my father, see Julia and Jason—and of course hold you to your word about the wedding.”

He grinned broadly, pleased with her answer. She wove her arm through his, and they moved to the opening. Outside the air was clean and mild. Spring had come to the mountains—lupine bloomed, tiny snowflowers dotted the meadow, and there was a feeling of rebirth in every tree and leaf.

“I'm anxious to get back to Sacramento City,” he confessed. “My ranch is in capable hands with Jesus Ramirez, but I'm anxious to take the reins myself. I can't wait for you to see it, Sam. From where the house sits, you can look for miles out across the San Joaquin Valley.” He shifted uneasily, suddenly feeling a little shy. “It ought to be just about the perfect place to raise a family.”

He looked away and Mandy's heart nearly burst with happiness. “Oh Hawk, I know I'll love it. I guess I've come to think of California as home.”

He hugged her briefly, then led her toward his mother's teepee. He wished he didn't have to leave Sam, but the sooner he left, the sooner he would return.

The day passed far too swiftly. Their love-making that night was tender and gentle. They stayed awake late into the evening making plans for their return to Sacramento City and discussing the changes they would make in the ranch. It all seemed a perfect fantasy to Mandy—if only Hawk didn't have to leave at first light.

Inevitably the sun peeped through the stately pines. Its warming rays roused her as she rolled over to snuggle next to her sleeping husband. She found him already up and gone. She sprang to her feet, dressed, and headed outside. She found Hawk with two other braves: Running Wolf, whom she knew to be her husband's closest friend, and Lean Man, a brave of great reputation as a hunter and warrior.

All traces of the gentle man who had held her last night were gone. Dressed only in breechcloth, buckskin leggings and moccasins, and a heavy buffalo bone breastplate, he barked orders, his manner brusque. She could tell by his businesslike movements he had already immersed himself in his role. She watched him in silence as he prepared for his journey.

When he finished, he looked across the camp in her direction. His wide strides carried him swiftly to her side. She noticed the hard set of his jaw. Leaving pleased him no more than it did her. He walked with her back to the teepee, bent, and led her inside.

He looked at her regretfully. “I swore I'd never leave you again, but even as I said it, I knew it was a vow I couldn't keep.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“You must do what you can,” Mandy said. “There's been too much death already. After being here with your people, I think I can understand about Swift Eagle and the stage. The Indians have been treated unfairly, but more killing won't solve the problem. I understand why you must go.”

He lifted her chin and wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “I'll return as quickly as I can. You'll be safe here with my family. Never forget how much I love you.”

She lifted a leather pouch on a rawhide thong from around her neck. “Your mother and I made this. She believes it holds powerful medicine and will ensure your safe return.” She stood on tiptoe to place the pouch over Hawk's head, then threw her arms around his neck. “I love you so much.”

He kissed her deeply, then ducked through the small opening and walked resignedly toward the horses. She watched him until he rode out of sight.

H
awk, Running Wolf, and Lean Man rode into the Oglala Sioux village followed by dust, children, and barking dogs. A mottled gray sky streaked with wispy tendrils of white promised a spring shower. Crazy Horse was expecting them. He lifted his lodge flap and walked stoically out of his teepee.

Hawk dismounted and handed the braided reins of his tired horse to one of the eagerly awaiting youths. Running Wolf and Lean Man did the same.

“It is good to see you, my brother.” Hawk spoke for all three Cheyenne. Each clasped arms with Crazy Horse in the traditional greeting. The chief motioned them toward his lodge and the crowd of curious onlookers parted. Hawk's gaze scanned the camp as he followed the others, taking in the hollow-cheeked women and the scrawny frames of the underfed children.

The winter had been a hard one on the People. After Red Cloud signed the treaty in November, they thought they would have new tools, weapons, blankets. Instead, they were forbidden to go near the trading posts. They were forced to make do with the articles they already had, and any man foolish enough to disobey the rules risked being
shot. Game was scarce, and there was trouble with the whites over the horses.

“It has been too long since last we met, Black Hawk of the Cheyenne,” Crazy Horse said as the group moved toward the lodge. He was heavily dressed in rawhide leggings, breechcloth, and leather shirt. An eagle feather, a sign of his bravery, hung from one of his thick black braids. A heavy buffalo bone breastplate, another sign of valor, clattered as he bent to enter the lodge. Once inside, Crazy Horse crossed sticks at the entrance, giving notice the men were not to be disturbed.