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Authors: Kathryn Hockett

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Sweet Savage Surrender
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“Hmm. So your Indian maiden was generous as well as pretty, and her grandfather is the preacher of the tribe. You say her tribe is peaceful and her grandfather
a seemingly nice old Indian. They might not fight, but how about the rest of them?”

“I don’t know, but I can tell you one thing. I feel a lot different about the Indians now,
even
after what’s happened to me.”
             


Are you sure you were not easily convinced because of a pretty face?"
the lieutenant said with a grin.

Scowling, John answered,
             
"She had not
hing to again by lying to me. 
Her pretty face matches her gentleness and her truthfulness.  Her grandfather has as much influence within the tribe as the chief himself.  I asked her to explain the peace pipe ceremony to me.  It was not her idea but mine
.” He shook his head, knowing at once that he sounded like a preacher now himself. “
I
just
think we should
work harder at making our peace with the Indians.”

“Peace?” The lieutenant slapped his thigh. “Better tell that to the
Ind
ia
ns. They’re the ones always making trouble. Me, I’m a peace-loving man who
wis
hes he’d
nev
er come here. All I want is to get my tail back home to
Ind
ia
na
where I belong.”

It was dark when they paused to scout out a camp at the place
where the  South Platte River and the
Arkansas River
meet
. By that time, John and the lieutenant had become
  good friends
, despite their differing view on the matter. John had tried to convince
the young lieutenant that a peace parley with the Arapaho and
Cheyenne
could be worked out
with the help of Skyr
aven's grandfather. John could tell the younger man was skeptical, but another few hundred miles and he would have him firmly convinced, he thought.

When they came to a nice clearing near the crook where the
two rivers joined, Hanlen gave the command to halt and prepare camp. Soon all of the soldiers were busy setting up the large conical Sibley tent in which the fifteen noncommissioned officers and the privates would sleep.

After the horses had been fed and watered and the big evening meal eaten, one man was assigned to guard duty and to watch the horses. The major, the lieutenant and the trumpeter set up their own two-man pup tents and bedded down for  the night. John and Sam would share one of the pup tents, Frank would sleep alone in the other.

"I'm afraid I won't be as good company as that little Indian girl,"  Lieutenant Dunham whispered as he blew out the light in the lantern.
"But I promise not to snore."

"As a companion you'll do just fine then," John responded, wincing as he stretched his arms and legs. 
The long horseback ride had made him a pincushion of pain.
Lying down
,
he did what he could to make himself comfortable, trying not to think about Skyraven for fear of dreaming about her and talking in his sleep.  A
man had to have some secrets.

"Major?"

"Yeah?"  He curled himself into a ball,
exhaustedly
hoping the lieutenant wasn't
feeling talkative.

"I'm not being nosy about what happened between you and that Indian girl, but I do want to give you a word of caution
, if I might."

"Speak your mind."  He as curious as to
what the young man had to say.

"Well, 
I know you went through a hell of an experience and that you are grateful to that girl for saving your life and all.  And after talking to you I can see that you are right in that the Indians have their point of view.  But....but there are those to whom you can't talk as freely as you have to me."  For a moment there was silen
ce.  "Be careful, that's all."

"I'll heed your wa
rning."

"And....and, Major?"

"Yes....."  John closed his eyes and sighed.

"If it means
anything.  I'm on your side."

"Thanks...."    As he turned over on his side
,
he felt the warmth of friendship.  Somehow knowing that at least one man felt amiable towards him made him feel a lot more relaxed about the situati
on.  It was a start, John
thought.

 

Chapter Fifteen
             

 

Skyraven awakened to the new day filled with gratitude to her grandfather. 
He had
been troubled over her news about  John Hanle
n
,
he had lis
tened, given her  stern advice,
but he had not scolded
.
I
n the end had  left  it up to her to make her own decision.  Little did he know she already had.  The moment John Hanlen's hands had touched her she had known that he was to be her dest
iny.  Her future was with him.

Lying in her bed
,
Skyraven tried to judge the time.  The tepee was not as brightly  lit with sunshine as usual
,
but this she knew could be because the sky was covered with clouds.  Rising to her feet
,
she peered out of the opening, knowing that most of the others would sleep well past noon before they rose to begin their chores.  It would take a few days to get back into the routine of rising early in the morning and sleeping at night.  The sundance festival always disturbed the body's natural rhythms, though her grandfather said such a thing was necessary.  For Skyraven it had been a blessing, giving her time to be with her yellow-haired soldier.  Another stroke of good fortune had been  the journey some of the leaders of the tribe were taking to the
Cheyenne
camp.  It would give her time to be by herself without anyone's prodding.  She didn't want Lone Wolf or any of the others to try to pressure her into giving the white man up.  It was
,
as her grandfather said, her choice to make.  By now he and the Arapaho chiefs would be well on their way to the  meeting with the
Cheyenne
chiefs.  

As she dressed, she pondered the situation, then
,
stepping out into the cool mid-day air  she looked up at the sky.  Just as she had supposed
, a thick mist
of clouds covered the sun.  It was just as well, for it would give her traveling tribesmen shelter from the sun's hot rays, she thought.  What a perfect day  it was for a walk
, she decided, knowing exercise would help her think more clearly..

Skyraven
entered the woods near the camp, taking in the sights of the untamed forest with its freshly budding green leaves quivering.
The trees
shi
vered in the breeze
, sending the bright green leaves quivering.
H
undreds of birds serenaded her
with their wild, beautiful music
as they flew from bough to bough.  Was the world really a more beautiful place today or did this feeling of love in her heart for John Hanlen only make it seem that way?  As if seeking the answer
,
her eyes were drawn towards the ridge where the cave was nestled among the trees.  It would always be the
source
of a poignant memory, t
he place where she had experienced her greatest deli
ght.

Skyraven ran
toward the ridge, pausing
as
she felt total
happiness
consume her.
She abandoned her dignified manner, and let herself go, jumping and twirling about joyfully,
freely expressing her feelings.  She wanted to dance, to sing, to give vent to he
r wonderful discovery of love.

"So, you a
re happy now," hissed a voice.

"Whispering Wind!"
The other Indian girl's presenc
e was the greatest invasion of privacy
imaginable
.  "Did you fol
low me?"

"I did."

"Then you will be disappointed.  My white soldier has gone."  Venting her anger and frustration
,
she reached down, picked up a stone and hurled it at the other young maiden's head.  "And so will you be, for I will chase you off.  Go on!
Flee!"

Dark flashing eyes poured forth fury as Whispering Wind ducked just in time.  "You will pay for this!  Your grandfather will not be here to sh
ield you.  Lone Wolf will...."

"Lone Wolf is gone."   Just as she had when they were children, Skyraven made a face at her rival
.  "He went with the others."

"That is where you are wrong.  After I talked with him he changed his m
ind.  Left Hand went instead."

"What?  But last night....I thought...."  The sky was not the only place where there were clouds.  Skyraven's mood changed from happy to wary.  Lone Wolf would be in charge of the village until they returned.  Just the thought dampened her earlier enthusiasm. Such was Lone Wolf's rank in the social order. 
It was customary for the chief to leave
his son to guard the village
in his absence.

"He wants to speak with you.  That  is why  I followed you just now.  To tell you so."  With a chuckle of laughter
,
Whis
pering Wind turned and left.
             

Somehow, just the thought of  having  to face Lone Wolf without her grandfather there to offer protection caused Skyraven's hands to tremble.  The fierce Indian brave had a terrible temper, for which he had been reprimanded on more than one occasion.   His reaction to the story about  saving John Hanlen's life would be quite different from that of her grandfather.  He would be angry.  She just knew it.  Though she wanted to run in the opposite direction, Skyraven hurried back to camp.  If there was to be a confrontation
,
she had best get it over with an
d then be about her business.

Arapaho children were expected to become tough. They lived close to nature, traveled under the harsh sun in summer
,
and worked and played out of doors even in freezing weather.  While they were very young, boys and girls played together
,
but as they grew older, most childhood play b
egan to 
mimic
adult life.  Skyraven
and the other girls  had played with deerskin dolls and cradle boards.  Lone Wolf and his boyhood friends pretended to go on raids, taking make believe captives and counting coups like grown men.   She had never noticed his temper until after puberty
. By
then
his
outbursts
had become more and more frequent when he did not have his own
way, or if he was thwarted. 

When Lone Wolf reached the age of fourteen summers, he went on his first real hunt and killed a buffalo calf.  His family praised him highly.  His father, Chief Left Hand, had announced the news throughout the village calling everyone to a feast in Lone Wolf's honor.  Lone Wolf thought that he had become a man even thoug
h he still had much to learn.  But s
trength was not the only proof of a man.  There was such a thing as fairness and wisdom.  Even the bravest warrior could not win all the time.  Lone Wolf
had not learned that lesson.

From the time of his manhood feast  on, whenever he entered into games with comrades his own age, contests meant to develop  endurance and toughness,  Lone Wolf would often become angry when he did not win.  Sometimes he would fly into a rage and cause the others to flee.  Then later, when his temper cooled, they would all talk and laugh about it. Because he was  the chief's beloved older son  no one wanted to remain at odds with him for very long.   Was it any wonder he
thought he owned the world? 

His temper had been one of the reasons Skyraven had not wanted to marry him.  She feared his fits of rages
,
but she couldn't tell him that without causing much difficulty for herself.  Marriage among the Arapaho and
Cheyenne
was more of an alliance between families than a love match
. She knew that her grandfather’s prominence in the tribe
would
make her a likely candidate for Lone
Wolf's mate.  As son of the chief, grandson-in-law to the medicine man
,
his power would be twice as great and any children they migh
t have would be twice blessed.

"Marry Lone Wolf?"
she said aloud.
  Now that she had met John Hanlen and given her heart to him,  she could never marry the fiery tempered brave.  She simply did not love him.  That might not have mattered once
,
but  having experienced such vibrant emotions made her realize she could n
ot settle for a union devoid of love.

Pausing at the edge of the camp she sat upon a rock and looked around  her.  There were many places to hide had that been her intent, but she was not a coward. 
I might as well get on with it
, she thought.  I can't stay  hidden away in the forest forever
.   Perhaps if I go down by the river for a little while
,
I can think of what to say to Lone Wolf when I see him
. Holding on to branches and scrub trees to keep from falling, she crept as close to the water as she could.

Taking a seat on an old log, she watched as the leaves she threw into the water drifted down the
stream
like miniature canoes. When she was a child, whenever she was troubled, sitting by the river always filled her with a sense of peace. The soft roar of the water was soothing. Forgotten for the moment was the fear of Lone wolf’s temper. Somehow she would placate him. She would make him see that she was not the woman to take a permanent place by his side.

"Have you nothing better to do than sit idly by the river watching floating leaves?"  Lone Wolf's voi
ce boomed through the silence.

Getting up from her crouched position by the riverbank
,
she turned to meet his gaze.   Dressed only in 
leggings
,  a breech cloth and moccasins, his arms were folded across his bare chest
, he looked to be an ominous foe.
.  His eyes narrowed as he looked her over from head to foot.  Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.  They just continued to look at each other.

“It is my right to sit by the river if I so choose,” Skyraven said at last. “It always brings to me a sense of peace.”

He muttered beneath his
brea
th, “You always were a
strange
one, even when we were children.” He leaned forward. “Or are you here for another reason?”

“I am here to watch the water, nothing more.” So, she thought, he knew about her soldier. She could see it in his eyes.

“And not to meet a lover?” with the swiftness of a pouncing mountain lion, he fell upon her, his grip on her arm so tight she couldn’t pull away. She could feel each finger squeezing painfully. So the moment had come.

She lowered
her eyes in sudden embarrassment. “I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. My grandfather….”

With a derisive snort he interrupted
her.
"Didn't
Buffalo
's Brother tell you that we would be leaving here soon?
There is no time to be alone.”

“Leaving?” The very idea of going away was unsettling. If they broke camp, John Hanlen would not know where to find her when he returned. “No! It cannot be. We have just completed the ceremony. It would make no sense.”


There are not enough buffalo near by to provide for our needs.
” He smiled at her in a gleaming show of pearl-
white
teeth.

Skyraven wondered if this was not just another one of his games. If they were going to break camp, why hadn’t her grandfather told her so last night? “It is your decision to leave camp, no doubt?” Was he trying to exhibit his power to her?

“I gave council. As you know, without sufficient buffalo we cannot even think to stay here.” He released her arm, but stood close to her. “But I do not need to discuss such things with a mere woman. “
You should be packing his rattles, skull altar, headdresses, ornaments and other items  he will not be using again right away.    I'm sure you have much work to do. You should be packing  his things and your own in parfleches and saddle bags instead of watch
ing leaves drift down
stream
."

Skyraven tossed her head, sending her slender, dark hand whipping around her shoulders. “
You are probably right, Lone Wolf.   I do have much to do."  She started to push past him but he grabbed her wrists and turned
her around to face him again.

"Not so fast, Skyraven.  I have heard some disturbing news.  
Whispering
Wind told me that early yesterday morning near dawn, she saw you kissing a white man
who was seated upon the back of a brown-and-white painted horse.” His dark brows jutted upward, forming a V. “She could not see him clearly, but he appeared to be a bluecoat.”

Anger loosened her tongue and made her forget any fear of the well-muscled man. “Why was Whispering Wind up before dawn roaming around in the hills all by herself? And why did she come running to you with such a tale?”

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