Sweet Savage Surrender (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-four
             
             

Beams of sunlight danced  erratical
ly across the stream. Skyraven
shaded
her eyes with her hand as she looked down the river.
She
had been at the
Cheyenne
village for six days now and still Desert Flower's baby had not made its appearance. 
Everyone was anxiously awaiting that blessed event
, but i
t was just as well that it had not
occurred
already, she thought
, for the delay
gave her more time to prepare and the chance to engage in conversation with her young friend. Too soon it would be time to leave.  She decided to enjoy her stay until it was time to return.  The invitation had been extended by
Lean Bear
that she should stay as long as she wanted.  Skyraven had it in mind to come as close as she dared to
Fort
Lyon
. 
Lean Bear
knew an Indian who had been at the fort once or twice
,
and it was th
is scout she thought she would  give a message for John Hanlen.

Desert Flower had laughed when she told Skyraven that the braves would stumble over themselves for the honor of accompanying her home
.
"You have the reputation of being an independent woman.  They all know that you are in no hurry to marry even though you are the oldest of the unmarried women at the age of nineteen summers.  Still, each of them wou
ld like to change your mind."

Desert Flower's husband, Blue Fox, reminded her that Lone Wolf had become annoyed with her refusal of marriage, but that he still admired her and wanted her.  Blue Fox had spoken with the renegade brave and told Skyraven that he was near by.  It was her only cause of unease.  Hopefully Lone Wolf would not press his proposal again.  But if he did?
  She would again tell him no.

A rustle in the undergrowth behind her caused her to stiffen.  She turned around but saw that it was only a small rabbit in search of its dinner.  "I saw some wild lettuce over there, Rabbit," she said pointing to a spot a few feet away."  The animal's nose twitched as if in anticipation and she laughed softly, ret
urning to her own foraging.

This afternoon she was by the river with the intent  of gathering a bit of the yucca plant,
or
soap weed as it was sometimes called.  The plant gave forth a slippery substance and could help in the birthing.  Earlier she had explored the area by a prairie dog colony and gathered some milk weed.  After the baby did come it would help increase Desert Flower
s milk to feed the little one.

Spotting the coveted
spiked green leaves, she knelt and opened
her leather pouch, carefully  selecting the strongest-looking  plant and  tugging until the thick woody base was uprooted.  "This will do," she said to herself.  A whisper of wind answered, lifting several strands of her hair, tickling her neck as she sat back on her heels.  For just a moment a tingling feeling swept over her, a sense of anticipation, but since such feelings had stirred her before
she merely shrugged them away.

Rising to her feet
,
she brushed dirt and leaves from her doeskin dress and tied the pouch around her waist.  She had seen some puff balls a little distance away.  While she was out gathering herbs she might as well pluck one or two of
them for her collection
.  Stepping through the thick foliage, peering out from between two cottonwood trees she paused for just a moment.
Her pulse quickened as she caught sight of a brown and white horse being led by a tall cavalry officer. Running Antelope!
  It looked so like her.  If it was her horse
, then the officer just
had
to be….did she dare to hope? Her heart skipped a beat at the very thought.

No. It just couldn’t be. Her eyes were playing tricks on her.
It was but another one of her visions, this one come to cruelly taunt her.
When she looked again, there was nothing in sight but the bend in the river and the thick groups of cottonwood trees. Even so,
a jolt of fire coursed through her veins.  Poten
t memories  invaded her mind. Memory of John’s tender kisses flooded over her. Although they had only been parted a short while, it all seemed so long ago. Still, she had lived those  moments over and over and had kept them alive.

She
looked down the river again, still hoping, but the foliage blocked her view. She came to the conclusion that she had just been imagining things because she wanted to see John Hanlen so very much. She had just turned to retrace her steps back to the village when a hand grabbed hers from behind. Fearing it to be Lone Wolf, she fought like a wounded bear, kicking, biting and scratching
.  Her dark hair fell into her eyes,  the fringe of her lea
ther dress entangled her legs.

"Please,  I come in peace," a voice exclaimed. He
turned her around slowly
too
slowly to face him. Skyraven brushed  her hair from her eyes and
let out a gasp. Her blue-
eyed gaze was
wide in disbelief as she looked up at the man who held
her by the wrist
             

"John Hanlen!"  Her voice was just a whisper. She drew her face closer and looked more intently.
What cruel trick was this?  Surely the spirits were taunting her with visions from her heart.  And yet....."
John Hanlen, is that really you?”

"Skyraven!"  Had she just dropped down from the sky he couldn't have been more stunned.  He most certainly had not been expecting to find her here
, poised like some heavenly gift. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her loveliness
.  "Skyraven?"  Their eyes met and held, caressingly.  "What are you doing here?"  He trembled from the shock of seeing her, touching her.  With the late afternoon sun casting light upon her dark hair
,
she looked like some Indian goddess, even more
beautiful than he remembered.

Skyraven's throat suddenly went dry as she stared back at him, mesmerized by his stare.  In his face she read he own longing and her heart gave a crazy leap.  Somehow she managed to answer him.  "I am visiting my grandfather's friend,
Lean Bear
's
Cheyenne
camp.  Desert Flower's baby is....." 

Then there was not time for words as he swept her into his arms, gathering her close.  He was content for just a moment to do nothing but hold her, then his mouth closed hungrily over hers in a deep, probing kiss that left her senses whirling. His lips were warm and firm.  Skyraven welcomed the sweet bolt of fire that jolted her as her lips parted
to
receive him.  His arms were tight about he waist, as if fearful that she might somehow slip away from him, elude him like a haunting dream.
He kissed her hair, her eyes, her lips and the softness of her neck, murmuring her name over and over. Skyraven clung to him,
nev
er wanting to let him go. She belonged in his arms.

When at last he pulled away
,
she told him about journeying to the
Cheyenne
camp to aid her friend in the b
irth of her baby.  "That is why you find me here," she finished.

John reached for her hand and brought her down to sit beside him on a large rock by the river’s edge. He listened patiently to all she
had
to say, brushing her long raven tresses back from her face from time to time while she talked. She had the most beautiful face and the most expressive eyes, he thought.

After a while it seemed that the entire world had ceased to exist and there was just the two of them here together, a
s if there were no warfare between the
ir
peoples, only this fire which burned in them whenever they were together.
When she had finished her story about her
friend
Desert
Flower and the coming baby, however,
the world intruded again as
he explained his own reason for being there. H
e talked about his first meeting with the bigo
ted colonel, his imprisonment.

"You were held captive?"  Skyraven was horrified.  She had once heard about the
white
man's
jail.  "Because y
ou spoke kindly of my people?"

"Yes.  But I don't care about that now, only that you are safe."  He told her about the suppose
d attack on the three hunters.

"Lone Wolf!"  She exclaimed.  "But Blue Fox said that  Lone Wolf told him that
the three white men were on our hunting ground.  Lone Wolf and his band were
trying to frighten them away."

"Hmm....."
John murmured in puzzlement, but in truth, h
e wasn't really surprised.  Hadn't he suspected as much.  "It has stirred up the countryside nonetheless."  He told her about Chivington and his unreasonable dislike of her people.
“And so you see, your people are in great danger. You must either leave or hide yourselves until this all blows over, or put down your weapons and m
ake a great
show of peace.  If you don't, you may all be killed.”

Skyraven looked at him quizzically.
  Weapons?  We carry no weapons for warfare, only to hunt.  Would you take our means of feeding ourselves away?"  She fought against her anger, knowing that the words he was saying came from another's head.  Even so
, she frowned.
"Hide?  We are not cowards.  My people are peaceful.  It is t
he soldiers who bring danger, not the Arapaho.  Never us." She turned her back, got up from the rock, and started to walk away from him, talking over her shoulder. “Just as I told you back in the cave, we are already peaceful. It is the white man who must make peace.

He forgot
for the moment all gentleness as agitation at the situation gripped him.  He
got up, grabbed her by the shoulders trying to make her understand.
"C
an’t you see that I am trying to protect you?
I
love you!"

For just a moment Skyraven looked up at him, her eyes touching on his blue coat, the gold buttons decorating
it in a fine, straight line--a
s rigid as the
white
man's
rules.  "If you feel as you say
,
you wi
ll tell your white chief to order
his hunters to go away.  To leave our land."
             

"I wish I could promise you that I could tell him such a thing and that he would listen, but I can not." 

His eyes looked so sad that she was deeply touc
hed and her anger melted away.
"John Hanlen!"  she whispered.  With a sob she ran into the circle of his arms, felt herself engulfed within the strong arms of his passion.  All her resistance ebbed.  Her lips found his, her body arched against him.

“I know that what you say is true. That is why I am here,” he
brea
thed, brushing back her hair. “I have talked my chief into allowing me to try to arrange a peace council.”

"A peace council?"
She looked deep into his eyes. “
Lean Bear
is peaceful, yes.  So
are
Left Hand and my grandfather." 
Peace
, it was a hopeful word.  "I will take you to the village and there you can speak with
Lean Bear
."  She smiled. "
I should never doubt you, John Hanlen. You taught me the joys of love. Now we must bring our two peoples together. I could never stand for us to be enemies when being lovers is so much more enjoyable.”

With a sigh of relief that they were once more in accord, she cuddled into the circle of his arms. Her lips found his, her body moved against him. He crushed her within his embrace, kissing her hungrily, fiercely. All of his past
misery
, his days spend away from
her in a damp jail cell, the
hours of worry, everything else
dissolved.  All that remained was  his love
and longing for her.

Groaning, he suddenly tore his lips from hers and whispered, "Let us find someplace where we can be alone without fear of discovery.  Our love is too precious to share with any watching eyes." 

Skyraven whispered in his ear of such a place.
Picking her up in his arms, John carried her to a soft, grassy spot surrounded by trees and caressed by the gentle sound of the rushing water.

“I want you to make love to me. I have needed you so.” Skyraven was not shy. She was in love with John and wanted him to know it. She did not want to lose him to any misunderstanding. It had been so long, t
oo long without him.

“I have dreamed of this moment all the time we were apart.
  I love you so."  He moved his mouth on hers, pressing her lips apart, seeking , exploring the softness.