Reckless Desire (2 page)

I watched Mary until she was out of sight. Once I too had dreamed of living in the East, of wearing stylish clothes, of eating off fine china and crystal by candlelight in a fancy restaurant, of going to the theater and spending an evening on the town. But no more. I was where I belonged, and I had no regrets.

I glanced up as Shadow squeezed my hand. “Do you think she’ll be all right?” I asked. “She’s so young.”

“She is nineteen,” Shadow replied. “Old enough to know what she wants.”

“I hope he’ll be good to her.”

“He had better be,” Shadow said gravely.

The house seemed empty that evening as I moved from room to room tidying up. I lingered in Mary’s room, remembering the day she had been born.

I had gone into labor early that morning. Flower Woman had been there to help me, but I wanted only Shadow. He had been somewhat reluctant to help with the birth of our child. It was not something a warrior of the People was expected to do. Childbirth was best left to squaws and midwives. But when he saw how desperately I wanted him with me, how badly I needed his strength and love, he sat beside me, my hands clasped in his, through the long hours of labor. I had tried to be brave and strong like the Cheyenne women, but the pains had been so hard I could not hold back my tears. And then, cutting through the pain, came Shadow’s voice, deep and resonant and filled with compassion. He talked to me for hours, telling me things I had not known, things I had never suspected. He told me of his mother, Morning Dove, who had died when he was only six years old. His memories of her were vague images of a graceful woman with long black hair and warm black eyes, a voice that was low and soft, arms that had held him tight. She had died of smallpox, and he told me of how he had always felt a little left out because he had grown up without a mother to love him or scold him.

He told me of the thrill of the buffalo hunt, of riding alongside a herd on a fast pony with the dust churning and the cries of the other warriors rising above the thunder of many cloven hooves. He talked of riding to battle, heart pounding and blood running hot in your veins. You did not think of death once the battle began, Shadow had told me, his eyes bright with the memory, you thought only of defeating the enemy, of counting coup and gathering honors on the field of battle. He had told me of the time he killed his first man, a Pawnee warrior. He had felt sick at first, awed by the speed with which a man’s life could be snuffed out. And then he had been filled with exhilaration. He had killed an enemy of the People, and it was a cause for rejoicing and celebration, not a time for sorrow.

I had listened to Shadow’s voice, letting the sound surround me like loving arms as I grasped his hands, strong, capable hands that could take a man’s life—hands that had shown me nothing but kindness and tenderness and love. I had gazed into Shadow’s eyes, loving him with all my heart, as our daughter made her way into the world…and now she was grown and gone. How had the years gotten away so fast?

I left Mary’s room as I heard Blackie’s voice calling my name.

“
Nahkoa
,
nahkoa
!” He burst into the parlor, a wolf cub clutched in his arms. “Look,
nahkoa
,” he said, thrusting the cub toward me. “I found him near the river.”

I shook my head. Blackie was still wearing his good suit. This morning it had been clean, but now it was covered with grass stains and dirt. His shoes were muddy, his hands and face streaked with grime. It was in me to scold him, but the words wouldn’t come. He was my last child, my baby. How could I scold him when he was smiling up at me, his dark eyes alight with excitement as the cub licked his face?

“Better give him something to eat,” I said. “I’ll see if I can find a box to put him in.”

With a joyful nod, Blackie headed for the kitchen. I could hear him talking to the cub as he poured some milk into a bowl.

I stared after my son. Since the day he could walk, Blackie had been bringing stray animals home. Snakes and frogs, raccoons and possums, a skunk, a spotted fawn, countless birds and squirrels, a baby fox. And now a wolf cub. My Blackie, child of the woods and water. He seemed to have a natural affinity for all of God’s wild creatures.

Shadow was shaking his head in wonder when I went out to the barn to find a box.

“So,” I said, smiling, “you’ve seen the latest addition to our family.”

“Yes,” Shadow said wryly. “Perhaps we should open a zoo.”

I laughed, my spirits rising as Shadow pulled me into his arms. My body molded itself to his as I lifted my face for his kiss, and then I wasn’t laughing anymore, for Shadow’s mouth claimed mine in a kiss that took my breath away and left my knees weak and my legs rubbery.

“Hannah.” His voice, deep and husky, caressed me even as his hands kneaded my back, then slid down to cup my buttocks.

I nodded at the unspoken question in his eyes. Effortlessly Shadow lifted me in his arms and carried me up the wooden ladder to the loft and there, in a bed of sweet-smelling hay, we made love.

My desire for my husband had never dimmed, and as he undressed I marveled anew that the sight of his body still had the power to excite me, that I still found his lovemaking thrilling and wonderful. My gaze moved lovingly over his face and form and found no flaw. He was tall, dark-skinned, and handsome. My fingers traced the powerful muscles that rippled in his arms and legs as he stretched out beside me. His stomach was still hard and flat, his chest broad and strong.

Shadow gasped as my wandering hand traveled leisurely down his belly to settle on his inner thigh, and I laughed softly, pleased by his response to my touch. Straddling his thighs, I let my hands roam over his body, my fingers tracing the scars on his chest. I remembered the day of the Sun Dance, how he had stood beside Hawk while Eagle-That-Soars-in-the-Sky slashed their flesh and inserted the skewers under the skin. I had marveled that Shadow and Hawk could endure such pain without a murmur, that they had possessed the strength and courage to dance around the Sun Dance pole for hours without food or water to sustain them, until the skewers had torn free of their flesh, releasing them from the sacred pole. The Sun Dance ritual was the most sacred of the Cheyenne traditions, one that few white people ever really understood. Shadow had been the epitome of what a Cheyenne warrior should be that day—tall and strong, firm in his beliefs, brave, haughty, perhaps, because he was one of the People.

I was filled with tenderness as I leaned forward, my bare breasts brushing against his chest as I kissed him. Shadow’s arms went around me, drawing me closer still, until our bodies were one.

Shadow was not a young warrior anymore, but a man in his prime, and I gloried in his touch as he possessed me, satisfying my desire even as he satisfied my need to be a part of him. Now, for this moment, I was complete. I let out a long sigh as his life spilled into me, my whole body slowly relaxing as waves of pure pleasure engulfed me. How I loved him, this wonderful man who had been a part of my life for almost thirty years.

Chapter Two

I went to church with Victoria the following morning. Hawk and Shadow never attended church services with us. I understood how Shadow felt, and I never tried to persuade him to accompany me although I would have loved to have him there beside me. Sometimes he rode along with me into town, then spent a quiet hour near the river while I went to church. But this day he stayed at home, and Blackie stayed with him.

Victoria and the twins were ready when I stopped by to pick them up. Marriage had agreed with Vickie, I thought. She was more attractive than ever, though she looked a trifle unhappy just now.

“What is it?” I asked as she settled onto the seat beside me, a baby in each arm.

“Nothing,” she answered petulantly.

“Did you and Hawk have an argument?”

“No, not really, but he makes me so mad. I asked him to go to church with us, just as I do every week, and he refused, just as he does every week.”

I nodded, wondering if I should try to make her understand, or if I should just keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want to be a meddling mother-in-law.

“It wouldn’t hurt him to go to church with me once in a while,” Victoria went on. “It’s only for an hour.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. “But to Hawk, it’s an hour wasted. He doesn’t believe in the white man’s god. Hawk and Shadow worship Maheo, and I don’t think anything will ever change that.”

“I know,” Victoria said with a sigh of resignation. “And I don’t want to change him, not really. But it just seems as though he could do it for me. I gave up a lot for him.”

That was true enough. Victoria had given up a lovely home, an education in the East, and a lot more to marry Hawk. Her parents had deserted her when they discovered she was pregnant and that Hawk was the father. Bitter and ashamed, Horace and Lydia Bannerman had sold their home and left Bear Valley, apparently for good, leaving their daughter behind to get along as best she could.

“Have you ever heard from your parents, Vickie?” I asked.

“No,” she replied softly, but I heard the hurt in her voice. I had never understood the Bannermans. I could not imagine leaving my only child when she needed me most, yet that was what the Bannermans had done.

I glanced at my two grandsons, cradled in Victoria’s arms. They were lovely boys, sweet of disposition. I supposed that Horace and Lydia Bannerman would have been ashamed of Jason and Jacob because they were a quarter Cheyenne, but I thought they were wonderful.

Victoria’s spirits picked up when we reached the church. She had many friends in the valley, and they all clustered around her, eager to fuss over the twins, eager to chat and make plans for the church social to be held the following month.

We saw Pa and Rebecca at church. As usual, we all sat together, taking turns holding the boys when they got restless. Sunday was my favorite day of the week, a day to rest and worship, a day to take life easy. Usually Hawk and Victoria came by for a visit; sometimes we went to their house. Occasionally Shadow and I went to visit the Smythes or the Browns or the Tippitts. One Sunday a month, our whole family got together for dinner at Pa’s house.

I smiled as Jacob crawled into my lap and made himself comfortable, then turned my attention to what the minister was saying. We had a new preacher in the valley now. The Reverend Thorsen had passed away shortly after Hawk and Victoria were married. Our new minister was a man in his early fifties. He had gray hair, long sideburns, and a closely-cropped gray beard. He was a widower, rather nice-looking, with regular features and light brown eyes. His name was Thomas Edward Brighton, and he preached fire and brimstone at his Sunday services. No one ever dozed off during one of his sermons, for he had a voice like thunder. Two of the widow women in Bear Valley had their eye on the Reverend Brighton, and it was a source of amusement to the people in the valley to watch Leona and Claire primp and flirt, trying to catch his eye. Thus far the reverend had avoided becoming entangled with either one, though it was noted that he was gaining a few pounds due to the many dinners they invited him to, and the numerous cakes and pies that were delivered to the parsonage in their efforts to outdo each other.

As the reverend’s sermon came to an end, the choir stood to sing. I thought about what Victoria had said earlier and I glanced around the church. Most of the married women had their husbands by their sides; whether the husbands wanted to be there or not, I couldn’t tell. But when I compared the men in the congregation to the man who waited for me at home, I knew I wouldn’t have traded places with any of the women present. Let them have their civilized men clad in store-bought suits and ties, men who ran grocery stores and banks and newspapers. I had a man at home who was a warrior, a man who had fought for me, a man who had risked his life to protect our family from harm.

I said as much to Victoria on our way home from church.

“Would you trade Hawk for any of those men at church today?” I asked.

“Heavens, no,” Vickie said, laughing as she hugged her sons. “Hawk is worth a dozen of those men.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Can you imagine being married to an old fusspot like George Williams, or a penny-pinching grouch like Harvey White?”

“No,” Victoria said, laughing all the harder. “And what about that old stick-in-the-mud, Clarence Flagg?”

I laughed, too, though my conscience bothered me a little at poking fun at my neighbors. They were all nice men in their way, honest and hard-working, but they could never compare to Hawk or Shadow.

Victoria was relaxed and happy when I dropped her off at home. She asked me to come in for tea, but I was eager to go home to Shadow.

Hawk came to help Victoria and the twins down from the buggy, and we chatted for a few minutes about the weather and how big the boys were getting, and then I bade them goodbye and clucked to the team.

“Thanks, Hannah,” Victoria called as I pulled out of the yard.

I waved and smiled at her, glad that she was Hawk’s wife. I couldn’t have been more pleased with my daughter-in-law if I had picked her out myself.

That night, lying in Shadow’s arms, I told him about Victoria’s wish that Hawk would attend church with her.

“I can understand how she feels,” I remarked, snuggling closer to Shadow’s side. “But I think she’ll be all right now.”

“Does it bother you that I do not attend the white man’s church and worship your god?” Shadow asked.

“No. I know you worship Maheo, and though you don’t think so, I believe that God and Maheo are the same being.” I kissed Shadow’s cheek. “It would be nice to have you there beside me, though.”

“Why did you not tell me this sooner?”

“I don’t know. It’s not important.”

“If you want me to go with you, I will go.” Was there ever such a man? My heart swelled with love as I kissed him again.

“It isn’t necessary,” I murmured. “I know you like to worship Man Above in your own way. I’ve never asked you to change for me. I’m not asking now.”

Shadow smiled at me, his dark eyes moving over my face like a caress. “I know. I think that is why I love you so much.”