Bittersweet Ecstasy (11 page)

Sun Cloud strolled in the edge of the forest, deep in thought. Suddenly his keen senses detected another’s presence. He turned cautiously and found Singing Wind leaning against a tree nearby. At first, he was annoyed with himself for allowing anyone to sneak up on him; then he smiled in delight and headed toward her.

“We are having a great feast tonight. Why do you not join us? Mother will be happy to see you,” he remarked in a mellow tone. His sensual gaze noticeably and caressingly admired her from head to foot.

Singing Wind felt a tingle race over her body, and she was glad she had followed her impulse. She laughed softly as she sat down. “I watched for a long time, but I did not think it proper to interrupt a special ceremony. I was riding and thinking, and found myself nearby. There is something I must tell you, Sun Cloud,” she hinted evocatively.

“Speak,” he encouraged eagerly and sat down beside her. He was enlivened by the way she was looking at him. She smelled like a fresh day, and she sparkled with radiant life. When she spoke, her voice
was like warm honey flowing over every sensitive area of his body.

“I do not wish you to think badly of me. In past moons we have teased each other without mercy, but those days must end. We are no longer children. I spoke in anger when we last talked. It was silly, and I ask your forgiveness. I thought you had insulted me and made me feel unworthy. I wanted to hurt you as you hurt me; this was childish and wrong. Sometimes I do not understand why I behave this way. Such warring thoughts and feelings often fill my head and heart, and it is hard to conquer them. I must learn to tame my wild tongue and temper. Is this not true?” she inquired, grinning mischievously.

He was thrilled by her arrival and mood. Not wanting to offend her again, he chose his words carefully. “It is true for everyone, Singing Wind. We have known each other since we were children, and it is hard to change the way we behave to each other. Often I tease you and anger you when I do not mean to do so. I wish us to be friends.”

Singing Wind beamed with pleasure and relief. “I also wish us to be friends, Sun Cloud. I will try to be worthy of such a rank.”

Grasping her hand, he replied tenderly, “There is no need to seek a rank which you already possess. You are a strong female, a special one. Let no one change you with their silly talk and envy. Come, join our feast,” he invited, then explained the reason for it.

“The night grows darker and I must return home or my family will worry. If I am to prove the wicked tales about me are false, I must work to destroy one each sun,” Singing Wind replied. “We will speak again soon. I only wished you to know I spoke rashly and hastily in the forest, and I wished to thank you for your help.” She smiled and arose gracefully, hoping he would insist
that she remain in his camp for the night.

Sun Cloud did not want her to leave, but he decided it was best for her to make that decision. If he pressed her too swiftly, she might dart away like a frightened doe, for she seemed nervous. He felt that this new relationship between them must be given time to grow before he pressed her for more than friendship. He stood, then walked with her to her waiting horse. When she turned to him before mounting, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly upon the lips. He was surprised and pleased when her lips clung to his for a greedy and lengthy kiss.

Abruptly she pulled away, lowered her gaze as if embarrassed, quickly mounted, then kneed her horse to carry her away rapidly. Sun Cloud observed her retreat and was tempted to race after her. This was a bad time, as vital events were taking place within his camp.

“Soon, my love, you will be mine,” he vowed, then smiled happily.

Early the next morning, Shalee took a sharp knife and cut Bright Arrow’s hair until it rested slightly above his shoulders and shortened gradually as it moved toward his jawline and up the sides of his face. She showed him how to “rag wave” the top and edges to make it appear more in a white man’s style. Then she watched him adjust the garments which had been provided by Powchutu, dark pants and a deep green shirt. The color of the shirt brought out the hazel in his eyes, as the bright light enhanced the dark auburn of his hair. She eyed him from head to foot, then smiled at their success. Yes, he could pass for white.

Her gaze traveled to Powchutu, who was wearing a dark Eastern suit and off-white shirt. His hair had been trimmed earlier and its nearly gray color, along with the effects of advancing age and his lack of exposure to the Plains sun, took away from the darkness of his skin and eyes. Hopefully no one would guess his heritage or identity. It was done, and they were packed and ready to begin their journey.

Powchutu checked his pocket to make certain he had the letters he was to mail to New Orleans to Stede Gaston and Alisha Clarion. He was relieved that there
was a way to contact his children one last time. He looked at Shalee and smiled. “Do not worry; we will be careful.”

“Do what must be done and return to us safely,” she replied. She hugged her son and gazed into his eyes for a moment, expressing her love and prayers. She knew Gray Eagle would not mind if she did the same with Powchutu, who seemed touched by her gesture.

Gray Eagle clasped forearms with his half brother and wished him victory and safety. “It is good you returned when your people and family need you.” He embraced his son and smiled, knowing no words were necessary between them, but saying, “
Wakantanka
go with you and guide you, my son. Your courage and sacrifices are large this day. I am proud to be the father of Bright Arrow.”

“As I am proud to be the son of Gray Eagle and Shalee,” he replied.

Sun Cloud stepped forward and clasped forearms with Powchutu, then bear-hugged Bright Arrow. “You bring much honor to our tepee, my brother, and to yourself. You will know victory,” he declared confidently. “Before I hunt, I will ride a way with you, for my heart beats with excitement and envy.”

Bright Arrow grinned and gave Sun Cloud another bear hug. “We have ridden together many times, my brother and friend. If your face did not reflect that of our father, you could ride with me this sun. Guard our parents and people, my brother, for the whites are sly and eager. See to Tashina if trouble overtakes us,” he entreated pointedly.

As they mounted, others came forward to speak their well-wishes. They rode away to the sound of the shaman’s prayer. Gray Eagle and Shalee stood before their tepee, arm in arm, until they vanished.

All morning as the hunting party moved through the
forest and meadows, Sun Cloud found himself straining for a sight or sound of Singing Wind. Twice he spooked deer while his concentration was low. He chided himself for his reckless lapses, for it easily could have been white or Indian foes he had flushed from hiding. Perhaps he should ride to the Cheyenne camp to visit with his friend Soul-of-Thunder. No, that was not wise with his brother gone and no one to see to their parents if there was a problem. Despite how strong and vital they appeared, Sun Cloud knew they were not. He had seen both grimace and battle the aches which chewed at aging bones. He had seen them tire more quickly and easily than the winter before this one. He knew that his parents sometimes forgot things and could no longer see with keen eyes. Living with them, he witnessed and grasped these changes more often than Bright Arrow who had his own tepee. It tugged at his heart to know their days on Mother Earth were numbered, but it gave him peace to know their perils and pains would end when they joined the Great Spirit. Perhaps he should find ways to do more of the hunting and the making of weapons, and perhaps he should capture a slave to help his mother with her chores. Yes, he must find ways to ease the burdens of daily existence upon his cherished parents.

The hunting party returned to camp during the rest period. Sun Cloud found the tepee flap closed, which indicated “do not disturb.” A smile traveled across his handsome face as he wondered if his parents needed more than rest during this short time of privacy. He had never ceased to be amazed by their great passion for each other and for the sharing of a mat together. He saw the way they still looked at and touched each other. Their love was powerful and endless; their union had taught him what true love and fiery passion were, and it had caused him to long for the same with a woman. If
he confessed the truth, perhaps he unwisely and unfairly judged females by his mother’s pattern and found them lacking her mixture of strength and gentleness, of pride and humility, of giving and taking.

He scowled at the thought of a major flaw in his character and thinking. Then he headed for Bright Arrow’s tepee to see if Tashina was awake. If so, they could work on their gifts for Gray Eagle and Shalee: a new quiver for his arrows and new moccasins for her. Tashina was skilled with her sewing and beading. It gave him great pleasure to give her pictorial suggestions, to collect special items to include, and to mark the patterns upon the leather for her; for he was talented with his hands and paints, and had done most of the colorful designs and depictions of
coups
on his father’s tepee. He was also responsible for the paintings on the buffalo robe which revealed the pictographic history of their family. When time allowed, he must include the description of the return and existence of his father’s brother. As instructed, he would record Powchutu as Eagle’s Arm, half-Oglala and halfCheyenne son of Running Wolf and Tamarra. Sun Cloud realized, for a tribe and chief who were alleged to reject all foes, the Oglalas and Gray Eagle had accepted two whites and a half-Crow into their tribe. Of course, few Oglalas were aware of the enemy bloods that lived in their camp.

Sun Cloud found Tashina beading in her tepee with the flap tossed aside, so he ducked and joined her for the afternoon.

In the tepee of Gray Eagle, the chief was lying upon his mat with his wife. His lips and hands had been teasing over her flesh with appreciation and stimulation. He smiled into her eyes as his mouth covered hers. She clasped him to her naked body and ran her fingers over his shoulders and back as she savored their
contact and impending union. She knew his desire matched hers, for his manhood had grown larger as he tantalized her to quivering anticipation.

As her lips teased over his face, she murmured, “How is it possible to love you more and more each day when my heart has been filled with love for you for so many winters? I shall love you forever.”

He looked down into her face, treasuring her expression and words. “No matter how full a heart, there is always space for more love. No power or man has existed who could take you from my side. You have been my air, my water, the force of my heart. Without your possession, I would not have been complete. If I had lost you, I could not have lived without you. I have even challenged the Bird of Death to keep you. You are mine forever, even beyond Mother Earth. I never grow weary of having you in my life or upon my mat. You captured my heart and inflamed my body the moment I saw you long ago. No matter how many times my lips and body claim yours, each new time is sweeter than the one before. I love you with all I am and will ever be.”

Tears of joy dampened her lashes. “Only a man of great strength and honor can confess to such feelings, my love. I am what I am for knowing you. Make our bodies one as our hearts are one.”

Gray Eagle gently lay upon her and sealed their lips as he entered her. Slowly he carried her to sensual heights in the Eagle’s domain. They soared in the magic wonder of their never-ending passion. Soon, they clung tightly as they were rewarded blissfully for their mutual efforts. Then leisurely their spirits descended to reality, and they lay nestled together as sleep overtook them.

It was midmorning of the following day when
Powchutu and Bright Arrow arrived at the fort. Neither was surprised to find the gates open, for the soldiers were cocky this time of year, knowing the Indians were busy obtaining supplies, making weapons, and preparing for their moves to their summer encampments. The guard eyed them nonchalantly as they rode inside and dismounted near the sutler’s post.

The sutler was a husky man in his early forties, eager to meet new faces, especially those who needed supplies. “What can I do for you, fellers?” he inquired genially.

“Me and my friend’s son need a few supplies. We’re camping over there on Chucker’s Creek. We’ll be heading farther west as soon as we take a few days to catch our breaths. It’s been a long journey from St. Louis. We heard it’s good trapping a week’s ride upriver,” Powchutu chatted amiably as he collected an item here and there.

Bright Arrow had lazed against a wooden support post, having reminded himself not to stand straight and alert. Last night, he had wet his hair and secured rags around the edges to make it wave slightly as his mother had shown him. A flintlock musket was thrown over his shoulder and a bag of cartridges hung from his belt, as did a hunting knife. He seemed content to let his friend make their purchases.

Powchutu was also carrying a breechloader which used a cartridge containing powder and ball that fired from the impact of the hammer on a percussion cap which was held by a nipple. He wished he had brought along the “Brown Bess” flintlock musket he had gotten in England. Although it required twelve steps to prime and load the awkward weapon, a trained man could fire five balls a minute, which favorably compared to the number of arrows a hostile Indian could fire, and certainly could beat the skills and speed of the common
American soldier.

“You two chose a bad time to take up in this area. I suppose you’ve never heard of them Sioux who still think this whole goldarn area is theirs. Now that we own her, the Army should stop taking their crap and kick their asses as far west as possible, right into that ocean Clark and Lewis found.”

Powchutu smiled, then asked jokingly, “Sure we’ve heard of the Sioux, and Cheyenne, and Crow. I guess nobody asked them if they cared if we bought all this land from the French. From what we’ve been told, they didn’t recognize Spanish or French ownership, so why should they think the Americans could buy what wasn’t the French’s to sell? I think we’ll be plenty safe with so many forts and soldiers out here. We’re thinking about setting up a permanent camp along the Missouri, and it’s best to get the jump on other trappers before the new season starts. From the hides and pelts we’ve seen from this area, hunting and trapping’s got to be mighty rewarding.”