Savage Winter (5 page)

He laughed deeply and hugged her to him. “Sometimes, I wonder why the spirits chose me to be the lover of the Flaming Hair. I have everything I could want when I hold you in my arms, Joanna.”

She threw back her head and laughed up at him. “The spirits did not choose you…I did! After the first day we met, I was the one who wanted you. I did not know it at the time, but now I do.”

“Did I not stand a chance of getting away, then?” Windhawk asked in a light and teasing voice.

Her hand moved up to touch his dark hair. “No, you never stood a chance. Had you but known it then, there was no way for you to get away from me.”

Joanna felt his hands span her waist and he lifted her up over his head and then let her slide down the length of his body. “No,” he whispered, touching his lips lightly to hers, “I never stood a chance.”

Joanna saw that there were now others who walked by the river and she moved away from Windhawk and sat down
on the grass. “How is Tag doing, Windhawk? He seems so happy…is he being well accepted by the other young boys? It matters to him a great deal that they like him.”

Windhawk sat down beside her and took her hand in his. “I am very proud of your brother, Joanna. When we have a son, I hope he will be like Tag. The others think of him as a Blackfoot. He is daring and brave and is never afraid to test his courage.”

“I am glad. Sometimes, I worry about him, but he is happy and that is the most important thing, do you not think?”

“Yes, this is important,” he agreed. “I have been wanting to talk to you about Tag, and I think now is a good time.” He paused, wondering how to tell her what Tag wanted to do.

“I am listening.”

“…Joanna, four of my warriors are going up into the Canada. It will be a mission where they take several young boys to teach them many things about survival. It is considered a great honor for a young boy to be selected to go…Tag has been selected.”

Joanna was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, Windhawk could hear the concern in her voice. “What would Tag do and how long would he be gone?” she asked at last.

“He would be gone for several months, and he would learn how to live under the most primitive conditions. I would ask that you think carefully before you decide, Joanna. Tag would be exposed to many dangers, but he would be taught how to meet those dangers. I think it would be good for him to go…and he has asked that I talk to you about it. I told him if you said no, he must accept your decision as final, and he has agreed to this.”

“Did you go on such a venture when you were a boy?” Joanna wanted to know, wishing she could just say no and get it over with. It was hard for her not to be overprotective where her brother was concerned. She knew that Tag would benefit by such an experience, but still her heart felt heavy.

“Yes, I was younger than Tag when I went on the journey of learning.”

“What do you think I should say?”

“I cannot tell you what is best for your brother. This you will have to decide for yourself.”

Again, Joanna lapsed into silence. She knew in her heart that she would have to allow Tag to go. Raising her face to Windhawk, she sighed. “You can tell Tag that I have given my consent. He can go on the journey.”

Windhawk took her hand and placed it against his cheek. “I somehow knew you would make the right choice. This will be a valuable lesson for your brother. It will get him through many hard times in his life.”

“I do not know what Tag would have done had it not been for you, Windhawk. When he needed the guidance of a man, you were always there for him. I am very grateful to you for caring about him.”

“It is easy to love the boy; he is very like his sister,” Windhawk said, pulling her into his arms.

Joanna’s head was resting against Windhawk’s chest, and she could hear the drumming of his heart. She thought how greatly this man had touched her life as well as Tag’s. Joanna loved him with all her heart. Surely he was a man like no other. She hoped she would always be worthy of him.

“Joanna, I must also tell you that I will be going away for a while,” he said softly.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked, feeling a deep sadness that he was leaving.

“I do not know how long I will be away. The buffalo are moving in a westerly direction, and I must follow them.”

Joanna shivered in spite of the hot night, feeling a deep foreboding in her heart. She wanted to beg him not to go, but she knew, as the wife of the chief, she was expected to act the part.

“I will miss you,” she said, closing her eyes to keep the tears from seeping through.

“Come,” Windhawk said, standing up and pulling her to her feet. “I leave in the morning. I want to be with you before I go.”

Joanna’s heart was heavy as she realized both Windhawk and Tag would be going away. She managed to smile in spite of her grief as Windhawk led her into their lodge.

That night, as Windhawk lay sleeping beside Joanna, troubled thoughts continued to plague her. She couldn’t tell Windhawk that she didn’t want him to go away. He would only laugh at her fears. What did she sense? Was it only that she didn’t want him to leave her…or was it a premonition of disaster…a warning of some kind?

Joanna curled up beside Windhawk, and in his sleep he pulled her tightly against him. She tried to push her troubled thoughts aside, but she couldn’t. Reaching for Windhawk’s hand, she clasped it tightly against her. How would she live if anything should happen to him? She tried to tell herself that she was just being foolish, but it didn’t seem to help.

The next morning when she saw Windhawk on his way, she tried to smile, so he wouldn’t suspect she was troubled. The feeling of unrest only deepened when Tag left that afternoon. She sighed, thinking a woman’s lot in life was to wait and worry about the men she loved.

The uneasy feeling stayed with Joanna for days, until she finally pushed it to the back of her mind.

Joanna went about her daily tasks with a heavy heart. She hadn’t seen Windhawk for over a month and she missed him terribly. She was also lonesome for Tag. Had it not been for the fact that she had her friends to talk with, she would have been miserable.

It was apparent that Amanda was happy with Tall Bear, and it gladdened Joanna’s heart to see her friend so contented. She remembered all too well when Amanda had been captured by the Piegans and forced to live with their chief, Running Elk, until Windhawk had rescued her.

And she could share Amanda and Tall Bear’s joy that they were expecting a baby, because Joanna now knew she was going to have Windhawk’s child. She waited each day for him to come home so she could tell him the happy news.
She hugged her precious secret to herself, telling no one, since she wanted Windhawk to be the first to know. If her calculations were correct, the child would be born in midwinter.

Joanna was helping Sun Woman hang strips of buffalo meat on a drying rack, while Windhawk’s sister, Morning Song, worked nearby, grinding berries to add to the meat for seasoning. Joanna felt a closeness to Sun Woman that she had never felt for her own mother, and she adored Windhawk’s lovely, soft-eyed sister. They were her family now.

Sun Woman looked at Joanna with concern. “You must rest, my daughter. You have labored very hard today. Did you not scrape the hair from the buffalo hide, as well as help me butcher and dry the meat? I would not want anything happening to you while my son is away.”

“I will rest when you do, my mother,” Joanna said with determination. Joanna was one of the few who ever dared disagree with the stubborn Sun Woman.

“Yes, but you are not like the Indian maiden who has been trained to labor hard,” Sun Woman argued.

There was a time when Joanna would have been hurt by a statement like that from Windhawk’s mother, but that was before the older woman had accepted her. She now knew that Sun Woman loved her and was merely concerned for her health.

“I would have you treat me as any Blackfoot woman, my mother. I am stronger than you believe.”

“I know this.” Sun Woman’s words were stern, but Joanna saw the smile that played about her mouth.

Morning Song took Joanna’s hand. “You know when our mother has something on her mind, we can do no more than obey her. It will be best if you rest for a while.”

“No,” Joanna stated firmly. “I will not rest until the work is finished.”

Sun Woman looked as if she might say more, but instead, she clamped her lips tightly together. After a long silence,
she turned back to Joanna. “It has been a long day and most of the work is completed. We will all stop now.”

Joanna nodded in agreement. She and Morning Song exchanged glances, knowing it had not been easy for Windhawk’s mother to relent.

Joanna and Morning Song gathered up the tools and put them away, while Sun Woman disappeared into her lodge.

“Joanna, you are the only one who can come up against my mother in a clash of wills and win. I have never seen her back down with anyone but you…except, of course, Windhawk,” Morning Song added as an afterthought.

Joanna knew Morning Song was right. As she sat down on a fallen log and looked about the camp, her heart was warmed by the peace and contentment that surrounded her. There were many campfires lit so the women of the Blood tribe could dry the meat their husbands had provided for them. It was the height of the buffalo season, a time for hard work and very little play. The meat must be cured and dried for the long winter months when game would be scarce.

Joanna’s eyes traveled to Gray Fox’s tipi, where his two wives worked in silent companionship. Gray Fox’s son toddled around happily, riding an imaginary horse. She remembered the time she had saved him from a charging wild boar. Her mind reached backward to the time when the women of the Blackfoot tribe had been hostile toward her. It wasn’t until after she had saved Gray Fox’s child that the women had accepted her as Windhawk’s wife. Before that time, her only friend had been Windhawk’s sister, Morning Song.

Joanna’s eyes traveled to her sister-in-law. Morning Song was now fifteen summers and of an age when all the young braves were looking at her with interest. So far, Morning Song hadn’t shown a preference for any one of them. Joanna wondered why Morning Song never paid any attention to the young braves, as the other maidens did. As the sister of the chief, only the young men from the more prominent families were eligible to pay her court. Joanna knew her bride’s
price would be high, and no young warrior from one of the poor families would be able to meet it.

Morning Song felt Joanna’s eyes on her and smiled sweetly, transforming her lovely face with a warm glow. She was soft-spoken and always had a smile for everyone. Her midnight-colored hair was unbraided and hung down to her waist. Joanna loved the young girl, and she hoped that when Morning Song came of age and it was time for her to wed, she would have a husband who would be kind to her.

Joanna was distracted by a rider coming into the village. She recognized Farley, the grizzly old trapper who had become so very dear to her. She watched him dismount and amble toward her. His shaggy white beard and hair gave him an awesome look. His buckskin trousers and shirt were none too clean, but then that was Farley. At one time, he had tried to help Joanna escape Windhawk. The attempt had ended in disaster, but she had become very close to the old man, and he laughingly told anyone who would listen to him that he was like Tag and Joanna’s grandfather. She loved that old man and was glad that Windhawk allowed him to live in the Blackfoot village.

Farley stood over Joanna and studied her closely, then spoke to her in his colorful brand of English. “I seed yore taking it easy, Joanna,” he said, sitting down on the log beside her.

She smiled up at him. “I’m just resting for a moment. Are you going to Fort Union today?” she asked, laying her hand on his arm.

He grinned a toothy grin. “Course I am. You got many supplies you want me to fetch back to you?”

“Indeed I do, Farley,” she laughed. “You will have to take an extra pack horse just to transport them. How long do you think you will be away?”

“Ifen you don’t keep me here jawing, I ’spect I’ll be back ’fore too many weeks pass.”

“Come back soon, Farley. With Windhawk and Tag gone, I get so lonesome.”

The old man looked at Joanna speculatively—he saw the dark circles under her eyes and knew she hadn’t been sleeping.

“What’s got you in a fret, Joanna?”

“Nothing,” she answered wistfully.

“I ’spect your nothing is something. Wanna talk?”

“There is not much to say, Farley. I guess I just miss Windhawk.”

“And?”

“I don’t know…it’s a feeling I have. You would probably just say I was being a woman, but I feel as if something bad were about to happen.”

“You’re just being a woman,” he said, laughing aloud at what he thought was witticism on his part.

Joanna’s eyes traveled to the distant mountains and she felt a prickle of fear. “Perhaps, Farley. I pray that it is so!”

Joanna’s Uncle Howard paced back and forth across the room. He was remembering the day he had read the notice in the Philadelphia newspaper listing the names of all the people who had died in an Indian raid on an ill-fated wagon train. When he had seen Joanna’s and Tag’s names on that list, he had lost no time in heading to Fort Leavenworth to find out all the details.

Howard had feared with Tag’s and Joanna’s deaths that he would lose everything. Russell James’s attorney had informed him that if Tag and Joanna were dead, he would be forced to hand the James inheritance over to some distant cousin in England. What Howard hadn’t foreseen was what he discovered when Russell James’s will was read—that the bulk of the money would be tied up until Taggart reached his twenty-first birthday—neither had he considered that, should anything happen to Tag, the money would pass to
the nearest James male relative. Howard had learned too late that he could only control a small part of the estate as long as Tag was alive and under twenty-one.

So he could do nothing to get his hands on the huge shipping empire that had been left to Tag, since the court had appointed a manager to oversee the business. But there was now proof that Tag was alive, and Howard was confident he would soon be in control again.

Now he was at Fort Union, but so far, he had been unable to convince anyone to go to the Blackfoot village to make inquiries about Joanna and Tag, and he was becoming frustrated.

Howard sat down and stared into the fireplace, feeling its warmth creep into his body. Lately, he had felt a chill in his bones—even on the hottest days, he would still feel the cold. He watched the flames lick hungrily at the dry logs…somehow, the flames reminded him of Joanna’s glorious curtain of hair.

“Joanna, Joanna, because of you I have killed twice,” he said aloud. “It’s not the money I want the most…it never has been just the money…it’s you.”

He felt no remorse that he had been responsible for the deaths of his wife and her brother. He wasn’t the least bit sorry that he had killed Margaret or that he had hired a man to go to the Oregon Country to finish off Joanna’s father. Russell James had been recovering from a broken back. The man Howard had sent to Oregon had reported that it had been easy to smother the helpless man with a pillow. No, he wasn’t sorry for either deed. Howard Landon was a survivor, and he would always do what he had to to acquire what he wanted.

He knew deep inside that it would all have been for nothing if he couldn’t have Joanna. She was so hauntingly beautiful, and as elusive and unobtainable as the wealth Howard had always craved.

His face whitened in anger when he thought of Joanna’s giving herself to some damned Indian. “No matter, Joanna, soon, very soon, I will have you!” he vowed.

Claudia Maxwell stared into the hand-held mirror, trying to see her reflection. She was aware that she was pretty, and she was proud of the bright golden color of her hair. Lately, she had been unable to use her looks to their best advantage. There just weren’t any eligible men here at Fort Union, at least, not any she was interested in.

She still remembered the humiliation she had suffered last fall when she had been forced to leave Fort Leavenworth because of a scandal involving herself and a certain married sergeant. Having nowhere to go, she had accepted a small-paying job as companion to one of the trapper’s wives at Fort Union. The fort belonged to the American Fur Company and, to Claudia’s way of thinking, was not the most exciting place in the world. The only people she ever saw were a bunch of old trappers, a few buffalo hunters, and Indians.

Claudia had learned a valuable lesson at Fort Leavenworth and had decided that not the slightest hint of scandal would ever again touch her name. She hadn’t allowed any of the men here at the fort to bed her. She had decided to save herself for just the right man—a man who could take her away from this poor existence. Claudia was determined that the next time she allowed a man to make love to her, he would be the man she was going to marry.

Her eyes gleamed brightly. She had heard that Joanna James’s uncle was at Fort Union and was offering a high reward to get Joanna and Tag back. She had been told that he was not only wealthy, but his wife had only recently died, making him very eligible in Claudia’s eyes.

At times Claudia’s hatred for Joanna was the driving force in her life. She remembered the day she had first met Joanna. Joanna and Tag had joined the wagon train that Claudia and her parents had been traveling with. For Claudia it had been hatred at first sight of the beautiful, flaming-haired Joanna. Perhaps it was the fact that all the men on the train seemed to go out of their way to gain Joanna’s attention. Perhaps it
was because Joanna seemed to have everything that Claudia had always wanted: money, beautiful clothes, and a soft, ladylike manner. Or maybe it was that being with Joanna had always made her feel so inadequate. Whatever the reason, in her twisted way of thinking Claudia felt that Joanna was responsible for everything that had gone wrong in her life in the past two years. Besides Claudia, there had been only four other survivors of the wagon train massacre—and Claudia hadn’t been in the least overjoyed when she learned that Joanna had been one of those survivors.

She frowned in distaste when she looked at her faded yellow print gown. Surely, Joanna’s uncle was accustomed to women who were well-dressed, powdered, and perfumed. She shrugged her shoulders; if only she could be cunning enough, she would use her charms to her best advantage. Perhaps she would yet find a way out of this no man’s land.

In her mind she could see herself driving down the streets of Philadelphia in a fine carriage, thumbing her nose at the people she had once known.

Howard Landon crossed the room to answer the knock at the door. He was astonished to find a young woman standing outside. Her face, while not beautiful, held a certain appeal. It was the bold sparkle in her eyes that caught and held his attention more than anything else.

“Mr. Landon, you don’t know me; my name is Claudia Maxwell. I was a friend of your niece, Joanna.”

“What can I do for you, Miss Maxwell?”

“May I come in?”

He looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was about, thinking he didn’t want to start any loose tongues wagging by having a female in his room. Seeing no one, he moved aside, allowing her to enter.

Claudia gave Howard her most precocious smile as she held her hands out to him. She had heard that he was offering a great deal of money to get Joanna and Tag away from the Indians, and she thought she might just be the one to
collect. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, she thought, assessing him critically. He did have a certain amount of dignity, which came from having money, she supposed.

Claudia knew she must hide the fact from Mr. Landon that she detested Joanna James more than anyone she knew if she was going to get her hands on the reward money. Again, she reminded herself that if it hadn’t been for Joanna Captain Thatcher might now be her husband.

“You said you knew my niece?” Howard asked, raising her hand to his lips. His eyes gleamed as he watched her eyelashes flutter.

“Yes, I was on the same wagon train with Joanna and Tag,” Claudia said, as she felt his lips against her fingers. She reminded herself that she must not act too forward and lowered her eyes coyly.

“If that’s so, how did you escape the Indian raid?” Howard asked suspiciously, dropping her hand.

“When the Indians struck, I hid in some bushes until it was all over.” Claudia sat down in the chair he offered her, while Howard remained standing. His eyes were drawn to Claudia’s low-cut yellow gown, which offered him a fair view of her creamy white breasts.

She smiled at the older man, noticing how his eyes were fastened on her breasts.

“I understand you were only recently widowed. May I offer you my sympathies?”

Howard didn’t answer right away. Claudia watched him cautiously, hoping she hadn’t overplayed her hand.

“Why are you still here at Fort Union, Miss Maxwell? Surely you should have returned to your home by how.”

“My folks were killed in the raid, and I had nowhere else to go. One of the trappers, Ebenezer Hankins, brought his wife West. She was lonesome with so few women around, so they allowed me to stay with them.” Claudia dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It’s not easy being without a ma and pa, or anyone who cares about you, Mr. Landon.”

“Since the wagon train you were traveling with originated
in Philadelphia, should I assume that was your home before the tragedy?”

“Yes, my folks were very wealthy, but they sold everything when we joined the wagon train. I lost all I had in the raid, Mr. Landon.”

Howard was a shrewd man. He knew instinctively that the girl was lying. What did she wish to gain by her deception? He would judge her to be the daughter of a poor farmer, or perhaps even a tavernkeeper, or a fisherman. She was definitely not from the gentry. He wondered why she was trying to appear to be what she wasn’t. What a poor actress she was, he thought—still, she was a pretty girl, and he could feel the heat in his loins when she licked her lips and smiled at him.

“I know Joanna very well. I think I should warn you it won’t be easy to get her away from her Indian lover. I have heard some awesome things about this Windhawk. I hear that he is a very dangerous person to cross.”

“Is this what you came here to tell me?” Howard asked. He was becoming weary of everyone’s telling him about that red bastard.

“Well, yes, in a way. I thought maybe I could be of help to you, Mr. Landon.”

“In what way?”

Claudia leaned over in such a way that her breasts almost spilled over her gown.

Howard’s eyes seemed to devour her, and she smiled to herself, thinking he wouldn’t be too hard to entrap. After all, she was the only pretty white female within hundreds of miles. She must play her hand very carefully, however, or she might drive Mr. Landon away before she obtained her goal. If she was smart, she would soon have all she wanted—power, money, and perhaps even a respectable name. How ironic it would be, she thought, if she were to obtain all she had ever dreamed of because of Joanna James…her worst enemy!

Claudia looked shyly up at Howard, veiling her true feelings. “What would you give me if I were to deliver Joanna and Tag to you?”

Howard smiled slightly. “There is nothing I wouldn’t give to get them back.” He looked doubtful. “What makes you think you can deliver them to me?”

Claudia stood up—her eyes were gleaming as a plan began to develop in her mind. She remembered overhearing a conversation last winter between Captain Thatcher and Joanna’s hired man, Simon. It seemed that Simon was to return to Philadelphia where he would keep in touch with Joanna and Tag by sending his letters to Fort Union.

“Mr. Landon, instead of asking some buffalo hunter or fur trader to bring Joanna and Tag to you, it would be better if you put your faith in me. I know just how to get them to come to you. Never doubt that I can do it!”

Howard’s little beady eyes narrowed. “If you can deliver them into my hands, then you can name your own price.”

Claudia turned her back to him as her eyes filled with hatred. At last, her day had come. Revenge would be so sweet! She had the ways and means to bring the proud Joanna tumbling off her pedestal by separating her from Windhawk. It would be an added bonus if, at the same time, she could acquire a small fortune for herself.

“Before I help you, I must first know what you plan to do with Joanna and Tag, Mr. Landon.”

“I see,” he studied her with his actor’s eye. This girl was no friend of Joanna’s! He could read the hatred she tried so hard to conceal in her eyes. “I intend to take them back home with me. What else would you expect me to do with them, Miss Maxwell?”

Claudia knew Joanna wouldn’t want to be separated from her Indian lover. She remembered when Joanna had left Fort Leavenworth to return to that Indian. It was beyond her understanding why Joanna, who had all that money could buy, would want to live with the Indians. The thought of striking a blow against Joanna would give her the greatest satisfaction. Her heart seemed to burn with contempt for Joanna, the enchantress, who had stolen the wealthy, handsome Captain Harland Thatcher away from her.

“I would help you get Joanna back for nothing, Mr. Landon. I only want her to have what’s best for her, since she is such a good friend of mine.”

“What about Tag?” he asked, reading Claudia’s thoughts in her eyes. “Don’t you want to see him returned to his rightful home?”

“Oh, Tag, too. He is such a dear boy.”

“Let’s see if you can deliver, Miss Maxwell,” he said, watching the gleam in her eyes. “Give me what I want and I will not be stingy with you.” He knew Claudia was playing a game, but if she could help him get Joanna and Taggart back, he didn’t care how many games she played.

“Tell me how you will help me accomplish what others tell me is impossible, Miss Maxwell,” he said, thinking she couldn’t possibly be of any help to him.

“First of all, we will need quill and parchment. I can’t write, can you?”

“I can write a fair hand. Why?”

“You do the writing, and I’ll tell you what to say,” Claudia told him. Her eyes were gleaming brightly as Howard nodded his agreement.

The days seemed to pass slowly while Joanna waited restlessly for Windhawk to return. She missed him, badly. Time lay heavily on her hands and she became discontent, wishing she could tell Windhawk about the child she was carrying. She knew that he would share her joy.

Why didn’t he come? Many of the other warriors had made several trips back to the village to visit with their families. She tried not to feel hurt by Windhawk’s neglect, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself.

Sometimes, late at night when Joanna was alone in the lodge and the village was quiet, the strange premonition would return, and she would try to push it from her mind. She was waiting for something to happen, and she didn’t know what it was. Only time would prove if she was worrying for nothing, she told herself.

Windhawk rode into the Piegan Blackfoot village with six of his warriors. The chief had sent word he wanted to see him on a matter concerning the Assiniboin tribe, who were getting bolder in their raids into Blackfoot Territory.