Savage Autumn (19 page)

Joanna sat on the riverbank with several of the other women, watching Windhawk break one of his horses. Many of the women and children had gathered around to view the spectacle.

The Blackfoot often broke their horses in rivers and streams, because the animals would tire quicker and were much easier to break than when on land.

Windhawk rode into the water, leading the horse that was
to be broken. Once the water was up to the horse’s stomach, he leaped from his mount onto the wild mare. The animal bucked and snorted, trying without success to throw her rider off. Windhawk’s strong leg muscles gripped the sides of the horse, and he hung on while the horse thrashed about, splashing water onto the riverbank.

Joanna thought how magnificent he looked with his dark hair flying about his handsome face, and his muscled body tense and alert. She heard some of the young maidens proclaiming Windhawk’s handsomeness, and was amazed that she felt a prickle of jealousy.

“Do not mind them,” Morning Song said to Joanna. “There have always been those who looked upon my brother with favor, but he never gave them a glance.”

Joanna laid her head on her folded arms and watched her husband. One day she would have to leave. Would Windhawk grieve over her going, or would he replace her with one of the maidens who sought a smile from him?

The mare Windhawk was riding gave a last defiant leap into the air and then stood passive, with her sides heaving in exhaustion. Man had conquered the wild animal once more, Joanna thought.

Windhawk rode the now tame horse out of the water and upon the bank. He stopped in front of Joanna and dismounted, handing the reins to a young boy who stood nearby.

Joanna smiled up at him and he helped her to her feet. “Once again you tamed the mare as you tamed me,” she told him teasingly.

He ruffled her red-gold curls and gave her a doubtful glance. “No one will ever tame you, my flaming-haired warrior; least of all me.” He led her toward their tipi, and once inside, away from prying eyes, he drew her into his arms. “I believe you are the one who has tamed me, Jo-anna.”

She placed her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “Have you no wish to take another wife as Gray Fox and many of your other warriors have?”

“I am content with just you. I have no need for any other
wife.” He raised his eyebrow. “Perhaps you want me to take another wife to relieve you of my lovemaking?”

Joanna’s eyes widened in defiance. “No, never. I would scratch another woman’s eyes out if you looked at her.”

Windhawk laughed. “I will never take another to my mat. Why should I when I have you.”

Joanna laid her head against his chest. “Windhawk, if I were to go away, or if anything should happen to me, I would like to think that you would not be sad.”

She felt him tense. “I will never be content without you by my side, Jo-anna.”

His eyes moved to the corner where Joanna’s belongings were still stacked neatly against the back wall of the tipi. “Have you been going through your trunk? Is that why you say this to me?”

“No, I have not touched them since they were first brought here.”

Windhawk had hoped that Joanna would become content with their life together. He knew in his heart that she loved him, but at times he could feel her unrest, and it troubled him. He wished they would have a child, then perhaps Joanna would feel bound to him, forgetting her past life.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her to their bed. When he was making love to Joanna was the only time he felt she really belonged to him. At other times he could feel her troubled thoughts and knew that she was thinking about her past life.

He undressed her and allowed his eyes to wander over her silky body. He lay down beside her and clasped her tightly to him.

“Time will pass, Jo-anna. You will soon forget all that you left behind.”

She looked up at him and could tell he was troubled. “Some things I will never forget, Windhawk. I would never forget you.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “One does not forget the one he is with. You must be parted from someone to forget him. Tell
me, do you ever think of the long knife whom I saw you dancing with?” He had often thought about the long knife and wondered if Joanna had cared about him. He had avoided asking about him, fearing he would hear that she had loved him in the past.

Joanna frowned trying to think who he meant. “By long knife, do you mean soldier?”

“Yes.”

“No, I rarely think of Captain Thatcher. I knew him for such a short time, and I am grieved to think that he might be dead.”

“Did you love him?”

Joanna smiled and shook her head. “I have never loved a man as I love you.”

Windhawk cupped her face as if trying to memorize every detail. He laced his hands through her red-gold hair and drew her face up to his, while his lips hungrily devoured her mouth. He rolled her over and crushed her body beneath his. Joanna could feel his hard body pressing her into the soft buffalo robe and she wound her arms about his neck.

“I love you, Windhawk. I think that there has never been a love as deep as what I feel for you.”

His dark eyes blazed triumphantly. She loved him, and had admitted it freely. With that love he would bind her to him. He spread her legs apart and poised above her. “I will fill your body with mine, and you will never want to leave me,” he whispered.

Joanna gasped with pleasure as he plunged inside her. She closed her eyes and let the glorious feeling wash over her. She could feel him pulsate inside her, and ran her hand across his back. She wondered how would she ever be able to leave him when the time came. She felt tears in her eyes and turned her face away so he would not see her cry. She would give Windhawk all a woman could give the man she loved. When she had gone, she hoped he would remember only the love they had shared.

Windhawk felt his senses reeling as Joanna’s silken body
arched up to meet his forward thrusts. His body trembled and quaked as her soft mouth opened beneath his. He was a slave to the love she gave him. He would do anything for a smile from those soft lips.

Joanna rested her face against his as his hands circled beneath her, and he raised her up, thrusting her tighter against his hips. Her legs slid around his waist, and she watched his eyes burn into hers.

His hand tangled in her hair and he raised it to his lips. “Jo-anna,” he whispered. “Your hair is soft…so soft.” She gasped when he buried his face in the rivulet of red-gold. His breath was ragged as he nipped at her ear.

A wild tempo that was beating inside Joanna’s head seemed to match itself to her body movements, and her movements were timed perfectly with Windhawk’s. They rolled on the buffalo robe locked in a fiery embrace. Joanna was panting softly, and Windhawk was breathing heavily. Their bodies were wet with perspiration, which only heightened their pleasure.

Windhawk tasted Joanna’s lips and, she cried out as the world seemed to tilt upside-down with wild sensations she had never before felt.

Suddenly Windhawk thrust forward, reaching deeply within Joanna’s body, and she shivered with pleasure as her body seemed to explode simultaneously with his.

For a long moment she lay beneath him, too exhausted to move. He had distributed his weight so he wouldn’t be too heavy for her. Joanna was learning that with Windhawk the loving didn’t stop with the climax. He would hold and caress her while he whispered words of love in her ear.

“Jo-anna, each time I enter your body it is a new adventure.” His breath stirred her hair as he kissed her cheek. He rolled over on his side and pulled her tightly against him while his hands ran lovingly over her hip.

She tilted her face up to him. “Windhawk, can I ask you something?” she queried almost shyly.

His dark handsome face eased into an earth-shattering smile. “You can always ask me anything.”

“Can one…is one woman the same as another?”

Again he smiled. “Is one horse the same as another?” he countered.

Joanna pushed against his shoulder. “You are forever comparing me to a horse,” she said in an irritated voice.

He laughed as he traced the outline of her jaw. “I was but teasing you. To answer your question…” he paused as his eyes moved over every detail of her beautiful face. “I have never known a woman like you, Jo-anna. You know I have never loved before you. Does that answer your question?”

“No. I want to know if when you make love to one woman it is the same as with any other.”

He smiled to himself thinking how like a woman she was at the moment. Could he dare tell her that when he was intimate with her that he felt deeper than he had ever felt with another woman? Could he reveal to her that she was the reason why he lived? She was more important to him than the very air he breathed.

His hand drifted down to rest between her legs. “Jo-anna, when I am here, it is a bit like dying. You give me pleasure as no other ever could.”

Suddenly the hand that rested against her thigh began a soft circular motion and she no longer had any unanswered questions. She moved her body closer to him and turned her face up to receive his kiss.

She wondered, how will I ever be able to walk away from such a perfect love? When the time came could she leave without regret?

Crazy Farley started across the river and was immediately surrounded by twenty Blood braves. They were silent as they escorted him out of the river. When they reached the village he dismounted and one of them spoke to him.

“What do you want here, crazy one?” one of the warriors challenged him.

Farley spoke and understood the Blackfoot language as well as any Indian. He knew that Windhawk didn’t welcome many
white men in his village, and he knew he was taking a grave risk in coming here.

“Take me to your chief, Windhawk. I have something to say to him,” Farley said, unafraid.

The Indian nodded. “Come with me, old man, I will take you to him.”

Joanna and Windhawk were standing in front of Sun Woman’s tipi talking to Morning Song when Joanna saw Farley. She could hardly believe her eyes. Windhawk had been watching her and he saw her face pale. His eyes followed hers and he stiffened when he saw the white man.

Joanna ran toward the old trapper and threw her arms around him. “I am so glad to see you, Farley.”

Farley saw the murderous light in Windhawk’s eyes, and loosened Joanna’s arms from about his neck. He stepped back a pace, knowing he wouldn’t live long if he didn’t do some fast talking. He was glad to see that Joanna James was alive, but if Windhawk had taken her for his woman, he didn’t want to appear too interested in her.

“I surely do recollect you, Miss Joanna. I am plumb tickled to see you alive.”

Windhawk rushed forward and grabbed Joanna by the wrist, pushing her behind him. “Take her to my mother,” he told Gray Fox, who was standing nearby.

Joanna wanted to protest, but the dark look in Windhawk’s eyes silenced her. She allowed Gray Fox to lead her over to Windhawk’s mother. Sun Woman took Joanna’s hand and led her inside.

“It was most unwise of you to speak to the white man, my daughter.”

“Why? I see no harm in talking to an old friend.” By now Joanna had had time to think clearly, and she resented Windhawk’s high-handed treatment. “I will not stay here like a child who has been sent to her room,” Joanna said, walking purposefully toward the opening. When she reached the outside, she saw Gray Fox standing with his arms folded across his chest, barring her exit.

“Let me pass,” she said, forgetting to speak in the Blackfoot tongue.

“I dare not, Joanna. Windhawk has ordered me to see that you remain with his mother,” Gray Fox answered her in English.

Joanna’s temper mounted, but she knew that Gray Fox would carry out Windhawk’s orders and she would not be allowed to leave Sun Woman’s tipi. She walked back inside and sat down. Sun Woman sat down beside her, offering her a cold drink of water.

“Do not worry, my daughter. Sometimes it is hard to understand a man. It is best not to try too hard.”

“I do not understand Windhawk. He has never been so…domineering with me before.”

“Why do you come among us, crazy one?” Windhawk asked.

Farley looked away from the chief’s piercing gaze, wondering how much to reveal to him. “There were other survivors from the wagon train massacre,” he finally replied in the Blackfoot language.

“That is not my concern, old man. If this is why you came to me, I will hear no more.”

Farley shifted from one foot to the other, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground. “You might not care, but the girl will. One of them is her brother.”

Windhawk grabbed Farley by the shirt front and jerked him forward. “What are you saying? Where is the little brother?” he demanded in a commanding voice.

Farley could feel the cold hand of fear move over his heart as he looked into dark blazing eyes. “If you let me go, I’ll tell you,” he said.

Windhawk released his hold on him and Farley fell backwards, barely able to keep his balance.

“Speak, white man,” Windhawk ordered.

Farley straightened his buckskin shirt and tried to appear unafraid, when in truth his knees were knocking together. “You remember when I told you about the raid on the wagon train?”

“I remember.”

“I went to Running Elk’s village and I saw the little brother. I was told by one of the Piegans that there was also a white girl there.”

Windhawk’s eyes revealed nothing of what he was feeling. He was glad in his heart that Joanna’s brother still lived. “Is the boy well?”

“I cannot say. I was not allowed to speak to him.” Farley looked toward the tipi where Joanna had been taken and saw the brave who was on guard there. He knew he was again inviting danger, but he liked the girl and her brother. “Where did you find the James girl?”

Windhawk’s dark eyes settled on Farley, and in that instant Farley held his breath, knowing how unwise he had been to speak of the girl again. “You will leave now, old man. Do not again come to my village.”

The old trapper knew it would not be wise to say more. Glancing one last time at the tipi where the James girl was, he nodded. Almost immediately he was escorted to his horse by three Blackfoot braves. They watched him suspiciously until he crossed the river.