Sarah smiled up at him. “It is a beautiful present and I will cherish it and use it, indeed,” she said. “Did you make it yourself?”
He looked sheepish as he said, “I did.”
“Thank you. I will prize it all the more. It might help, too, the muscle spasms that almost cripple me at times, for the pain is almost unbearable.”
He frowned at her. “This should not be.”
His voice was so firm that Sarah sent him a wide-eyed stare.
“I will have to sit and contemplate and try to call back to mind the knowledge that my grandmother endeavored to teach me when I was a child. If I recall correctly, she used to say that most physical problems come from something missing in the food that a person eats. Though she tried to instruct me in specific cures, I fear I do not remember them.”
“Is your grandmother still living? ”
“
Neh
, no, she passed into the next world many years ago, and unluckily for me, the knowledge that she possessed died with her. I was not apt at learning the wisdom of her years; at the time, I thought of little more than the glory of the war path.”
“Indeed? ”
“It is so, for only as a warrior could I win the hand of Wild Mint, she who had hold of my heart from the first moment I ever beheld her.”
Sarah was silent. At length, however, she proffered, “Again, I am sorry for your loss.”
“Nyah-weh.”
He, too, sat in silence. “Of course, now I wish I had listened more intently to my grandmother. But this I know: The broth I brew should contain foodstuffs found only in the bones of animals. Perhaps I am not boiling the bones long enough to ensure the marrow’s healing ingredients are in the broth.”
“It could be,” suggested Sarah. “At home, we often boil the broth for one or more days. It takes that long for the nourishment to leak out of the bones and into the liquid.”
He nodded. “
Nyoh
, I will try that, and we shall see if the cramps in your legs become less. But for now, if you would seek your bed and lie down, I will rub your legs—”
“Oh, no,” Sarah interrupted, and she noted that he seemed almost as relieved at her refusal as she was to give it.
But he said, “Do not fear me. I will take no advantage of you. I wish only to help take away the pain.”
“I thank you and I understand that well,” she replied, “but I grasp, too, your hesitation. After all, we are alone, and …”
“You are safe with me.”
She brought up her gaze to stare at him. “Truly? ”
“Truly. Do not think, however, that because I have given you my word I do not find you desirable.”
If possible, Sarah’s eyes widened further as she regarded him.
Was it true?
He continued, “But as you know I am committed to she who can no longer be with me in the flesh. Besides, you have my word that nothing shall pass between us that you do not wish to experience, and a Seneca Indian’s word of honor, once pledged, is sacred.”
Sarah could barely credit what she did next; perhaps his words triggered a challenge. Whatever the cause—and unable to look him directly in the eye as she said it—she whispered, “But, Mr. Thunder, what would you do if I were willing to … to …”
She thought she heard him groan, and she raised up her glance quickly to see if he were in pain. “Sir?”
He seemed to be all right, at least physically so, but she watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Was he reacting to what she said?
At last he appeared to come to grips with the constriction in his throat, and he said, “And are you considering testing the pleasures that can be found between a man and a woman? Is that where your thoughts are tending? ”
“I—I … no, I think not.”
Though Sarah’s gaze could still not quite meet his, she watched him beneath her lashes, and when he appeared to settle down, she said, “It is only that you are … male … and I am … female … and if you touch me … there might be a complication.”
“Only if you desire it,” he said, his voice low as he repeated, “Do you? ”
“I … no …”
“Then there is no danger.” His manner and his voice appeared to be normal again, and he continued, saying, “Come, lie down. I will rub your legs so that the pain goes away. And as I do so, I will tell you a story to take our attention away from the pleasures that men and women can experience with one another. Would you like that? ”
“I …” She still couldn’t quite look him in the eye, but at last, gazing up at him quickly, she said, “Yes, please. I believe that I would enjoy your touch upon me very much.”
His response was a stunned silence, then an involuntary growl followed; it was low, soft and utterly masculine. Unwittingly, something very feminine in her responded to him, but she was quick to say, “My legs, I should have said. Please excuse me. I meant that I would enjoy your massage, since, when my leg muscles spasm, they hurt to the point of crippling me.”
“I understood your intent,” he said, and they stared at one another for so many moments, Sarah was left almost breathless.
What was happening to her?
Sarah wasn’t certain, but whatever it was, it felt wonderful. She warned herself that she dare not like the feeling too greatly. After all, he was already committed, even though that commitment was to a woman who was no longer alive in the flesh.
Besides, she thought, for all her knowledge, she might be pledged to another, too.
Six
“This is a story often told by the old men of our Nation,” he began, his voice soft.
“I am honored to hear it,” said Sarah.
“Very well. Once, not so long ago, a great Seneca sachem was visited by three spirits.” White Thunder’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “These spirits showed themselves to this great man so that they might tell him the story of how the white man came to this land that we Seneca call Turtle Island …” White Thunder, who was kneeling beside her, paused as he shifted his massage from one of her legs to the other. “Is it the lower muscles of your legs alone that spasm when you try to walk? ”
“Yes, sir, it is,” she whispered. “And they convulse even when I am resting.”
Sarah was lying facedown on her soft bed of blanket and pine boughs. Interestingly, though it would never do to possess such a berth in a stately home, this makeshift bed was unusually comfortable.
He asked, “Your legs convulse even when you are resting? ”
“Aye, sir. Sometimes that is when it is the worst.”
White Thunder frowned, looking as though his thoughts might be weighty. He continued to knead the painful muscles in her legs, absentmindedly. Meanwhile, Sarah settled down to enjoy the simple pleasure of being cared for. There was a risk, of course. She liked White Thunder, and with their situation—the fact that they were alone—anything might happen.
Still, the massage did ease the pain in her body. Indeed, it seemed to her that this man’s graze was a little like stumbling onto a bit of heaven.
So perhaps it was worth whatever risk she took in allowing it. Besides, having dressed herself in her chemise, stays and underskirt, Sarah felt secure in the fact that there were enough layers of clothing beneath this thin covering of blanket to provide adequate defense. Not that there was a need for one.
That was another important factor to consider: She trusted him. Even though beneath her skirt, she was quite bare—as was the fashion of the day—she trusted him with what was probably her most precious gift.
Sarah had never given the form of feminine clothing much consideration, since it was the general mode by which all women of quality dressed. But when White Thunder’s touch ventured up toward her knee—a scant few inches away from an area of Sarah’s body that was most private—she was dismayed to discover that his touch felt erotic.
“I fear that I must find a way to present more foodstuffs in your diet,” he said, “if you are suffering from this pain even when at rest.”
“Aye, sir, that would be most beneficial.” Sarah gasped silently, for his touch had ventured upward over her knees. Her body’s instant response was quite carnal. Indeed, at the moment, were he to venture even farther upward, toward her femininity, she might like it very well. It was a sobering realization.
To cover over her response, she said, “Were you not going to tell me a story? ”
“
Nyoh,
yes, I was. Forgive me, for I was considering how best to obtain the nourishment you need.”
“The bone broths might help.”
“
Nyoh
. That they might.”
“And I should like to hear that story, very much, I think.”
“
Nyoh
, I will begin. This is the story that the spirits told one of our wise sachems, and it has been repeated often since then.” White Thunder’s voice was deep and soothing. When combined with his gentle touch, it was more than any feminine heart could easily reject, and she felt herself respond.
“Long ago,” he continued, “at a place across the great salt water, was a land that was ruled by a queen. There was trouble in this land, for the people there had hunted out most of the game and they were hungry. It happened that the queen had a servant who was a preacher, who was told to dust some old books. When no one was looking, this servant boy read one of these books, and he learned many things that prior to this, he hadn’t known. He began to dream.”
“Hmm …” Sarah winced beneath his massage. One of her muscles convulsed.
“Did I hurt you? ”
“No, sir,” she replied, “you did not. ’Tis only the contraction of my muscles. Sometimes it feels as if the muscle is pulling away from the bone, for the pain is that intense.”
He said nothing, but his touch on her became softer, and he asked, “Is that better? ”
“Indeed,” she said, “’tis so. But please do continue the story. What did the boy dream? ”
“Before I tell you, I would like to ask you a question.”
She nodded.
“Are you aware that to the Indian, some dreams are sacred? That some dreams are a communication from the Creator? ”
“No, I didn’t realize that.”
“I thought it might be so. It is, however, important to understand this fact; otherwise, the story might not be grasped in its magnitude.”
“Yes,” she said. “I believe I understand.”
“Very well, then,” and he continued. “In the servant’s dream, he beheld an island he’d never seen before, and on this island was a castle made of gold. There was also a bridge leading from where he was to the island.
“This young servant could not contain his curiosity and so he crossed that bridge. There he met a handsome, young man who was brown-skinned and dark-headed. The handsome man complimented the servant and told him that since he had ventured across the bridge, he was a fearless man. Because of this, he told the servant that he would divulge a secret that would make the young man very rich.
“This was very pleasing to the servant, and the handsome stranger went on to say that across the great salt water was a land where a whole people was virtuous, where honesty and integrity to oneself, to one’s family and to one’s tribe and to his Creator was without fault. ‘They have no evil inclinations,’ said this handsome man, ‘and because of this, you can become very rich if you do as I say.’ ”
As he spoke, White Thunder’s hands ranged up to her knee and again a little higher. Sarah shivered under titillating sensation; mere inches separated his kneading from the most feminine part of her body. Yet Sarah wouldn’t have stopped him had she desired to do so, which she didn’t.
White Thunder was carrying on with his tale, and said,
“The servant listened intently to what this strange man had to say, which was this: ‘There are five things that all men and all women take pleasure in,’ said the stranger, ‘and I will give you a bundle that contains what these five things are. But before I give them to you, you must promise me that you will do all you can to ensure that these things are taken across the great water and are taken to the people there.’
“The boy hesitated but when the handsome stranger reinforced his demand by stating that the boy would be amply repaid for his efforts, the servant agreed.”
“What were the five items? ” Sarah asked, interrupting. All at once, she sighed. White Thunder had removed her slippers and had set to work rubbing each one of her feet. Softly, she moaned, “That feels quite heavenly.”
“I am happy to hear it,” he replied. “And the muscle spasms? Have they ceased? ”
“They are less, sir.”
“Good,” he said. “I will continue to massage you until they stop altogether.”
“Do you think they will go away completely? ”
“I think they might,” he said.
“That would be a most pleasant state of affairs.” Sarah breathed in deeply and relaxed. At length, she asked, “But tell me, for you have piqued my curiosity. What were the five things that all men and women desire? ”