White Wolf (31 page)

Golden Eagle leaned against his backrest. Across from him, his son did likewise while speaking of a small herd of buffalo roaming nearby. His attention wandered when White Wind, White Dove and Star Dreamer entered the tipi. Watching his wife’s graceful movements, Golden Eagle marveled that even after twenty-eight winters, their love was still strong, his need of her a driving force. Even now, his fingers itched to undo her long white braids and comb through the thick ripples.

He smiled to himself. Their love was meant to be. She was his life, had held a part of his heart even when she’d been a young child called Sarah, the daughter of a trapper who had lived peacefully alongside the Indians. When her stepfather died, leaving her to the care of an evil guardian, she’d run away to search for the Indian father she’d never known. The spirits had led him to her. He’d fallen in love with her, but they could not marry, as he was pledged to Wild-Flower, daughter of White Cloud. It had been a long and arduous journey, but they had overcome all, as had their love.

Over the years, White Wind had given him five children, but, sadly, one had died during its first winter. As she reached up to hang one of her parfleches, his gaze roamed over her trim figure and pale white braids. Her hair had once been white-blond. With age it had whitened.

His attention shifted to his daughters. White Dove spoke softly to her mother. At nineteen she was his youngest, his pride and joy. She’d always been beautiful, first as a baby, then as a child, but now that she’d become a young maiden, her beauty worried him. She had many suitors, though she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to choose a mate. He didn’t mind. As long as she remained unmarried, she was still his baby.

He rolled his shoulders, attempting to scratch an itch on his back. He loved quiet evenings visiting with his family. What more could a warrior ask of life than to be surrounded by those he loved? The women would talk and gossip, while the men planned the new day and his grandchildren filled his tipi with love and laughter. Ah, all was as it should be—except…it was quiet, too quiet. He lifted a brow. Where were the children? And Star’s husband, Two-Ree?

Alarm ran through him when he caught the solemn glances passing between the three women. Instead of sitting with their beading or quilting, they stood off to one side. He felt uneasy. Leaning forward, he addressed Star. “What is wrong, daughter? Your husband and children have not come with you. They are well?”

She kept her eyes trained to the ground. “My family is well, my father.”

Golden Eagle leaned back. Star refused to look at him, which meant she was troubled. “Come. Sit by me.” He also motioned for Dove and White Wind to join them for a family meeting.

Star came, careful to pass behind her brother as she made her way around the fire to sit beside him. Normally the women sat on one side of the fire, the men on the other, but Golden Eagle enjoyed being surrounded by his wife and daughters. As he looked upon them, he admitted
with a certain amount of arrogant pride that his womenfolk had never acted typically of Indian women. When everyone was seated, he waved a hand. “Look at me, daughter.”

Star Dreamer did. In her dark eyes, he saw what he’d expected: fear and uncertainty, which meant she’d had troubling visions. He knew she fought her gift of sight, one passed down from his own mother. And when the visions left her looking haunted, they boded ill. He kept his features impassive. Inside, a knot of dread took hold. “Tell me of the visions,” he commanded, becoming not only her father but her chief.

Star looked to her mother. When she received an encouraging nod, she spoke, her voice soft, hesitant. “They come nearly every night.” Her voice shook. “My brother who travels across the
Maka
has found his mate, and in her, he will at long last find the peace he seeks.”

Golden Eagle lifted a brow, pleased by the news but confused. “These visions do not sound bad, daughter.”

Hugging her arms around herself, Star Dreamer continued. “Darkness surrounds them.”

“Wolf is in danger?”

She glanced at him helplessly. “I don’t know. I can’t tell, but darkness surrounds him and a woman.”

Golden Eagle made no comment. He motioned for her to continue. She closed her eyes and described a beautiful place filled with many roses. “There is great happiness and joy in this place. I feel the love this woman and Wolf share, yet each is sad.”

Star pressed her fingers to her lips and lifted her weary gaze. “There is darkness ahead of them. They go to a place where there are many soldiers and many wagons. It is there that the evil spirits wait.” Her eyes glazed over.

“Darkness. It will destroy them.”

Father and son exchanged glances. Striking Thunder spoke. “The time is right for my brother to be at a place the whites call Ash Hollow. If that is so, the place where soldiers gather must be Fort Laramie.”

Star buried her head in her hands. “How I hate seeing things that others do not!”

Golden Eagle laid a hand on his daughter’s shiny black head. “No, my daughter. Your sight is a gift from
Wakan Tanka.
You have been honored by your grandmother. Remember this.”

“But it’s so hard,” she whispered. White Wind reached over and drew her daughter into her embrace.

Striking Thunder turned to his sister, his eyes filled with curiosity. “The woman you see in your visions, does she also dress as a boy and have eyes the color of the spring grass?”

Star glanced up, surprised. “Yes,” she nodded. “She is the one.”

Striking Thunder recounted his meeting with the spirited girl. He told of his curiosity, of following her back and witnessing her attack on Wolf and what had followed.

“We will go to this fort,” Golden Eagle decided, reaching for his quiver of arrows and the Sharps rifle he owned. It would take many days of hard travel to reach the fort at the same time as Wolf. He prayed they would arrive in time.

Star Dreamer’s gaze softened. “I see her so clearly in many of my visions.”

Thinking over his daughter’s words, knowing her visions to be true, Golden Eagle whirled around. “Have you seen their children?” he asked. If she had, then there was hope. Many of her visions, like her grandmother’s, were warnings of things to come, and if the vision were heeded, the outcome would be favorable.

Star Dreamer shook her head helplessly. “I see children, my father. Many children: Indian boys and girls, but I’m not sure if they are theirs or not. There are just too many of them.”

Frustrated by distance and uncertainty, he spoke to his son. “Choose six of our best warriors. We leave when
Wi
shows her face.”

White Wind stood. “I am also going.”

Before Golden Eagle could object, his two daughters stood and moved to flank their mother. Dove reached up behind her and took down her own bow and a quiver filled with arrows that she’d made herself.

“
We
are going,” she corrected, speaking for all three.

The two men groaned, but Golden Eagle knew it was pointless to argue. Besides, his daughters had been taught well how to take care of themselves. They never ceased to be a sore spot among many of the younger warriors, who felt shamed when White Dove’s arrows always hit their mark. “There is much to be done. Let us prepare.”

Wolf held the emigrants over in Ash Hollow for a few days of blissful rest. On their forty-ninth day since leaving Westport, they hitched up once again. All were reluctant to leave the wooded valley. However, they knew they must press on.

On the third day after leaving Ash Hollow, the emigrants passed Courthouse Rock, four miles south of the Oregon Trail. Rising above the flat plains, the massive monolith and its smaller companion to the east called Jail Rock were, from what they’d heard, only a taste of the impressive landmarks to come. If they looked fourteen miles to the west, they could see a tall column of rock rising from the flat plains to soar up into the heavens. During the next day of travel, they grew closer to the landmark. Wolf led them a couple miles off the trail, toward the spiraling tower to forage. Already they were well into June, and the grass that grew beside the trail was gone.

He gave the signal to make camp and rode back to see to the cattle. Before they could be driven out to feed, they had to be watered in the North Platte River, which they’d followed since leaving Ash Hollow. Dusk was settling when he returned to camp. He grabbed the plate of cold food Rook had set aside for him and leaned against the back of the wagon to eat. Between forkfuls of dreary plain beans and rice, he rolled the tiredness from his shoulders and scratched his back against the wooden side of the wagon. He was tired, sweaty and gritty with the day’s coating of dust. Now he wished he’d taken the time to bathe in the river, even if it’d been crowded, with no secluded bathing areas.

His brows lifted. Tossing his empty plate aside, he stared out at Chimney Rock. He grinned in anticipation. If he recalled correctly, there was a small stream several miles beyond that rock that continued down to Courthouse Rock before joining the North Platte River. Folding his hands across his bare chest, he closed his eyes, envisioning the area as he’d last seen it. If memory served him right, there was also a small branch of that stream that flowed toward the landmark, ending in a nice, hidden little cove. Was it still there? Untying his horse, Wolf mounted. He glanced around the camp, searching for Jessie.

Jessie left camp sick at heart. Two little girls in another caravan had taken sick and died that day. They’d come across the grieving family earlier. She, along with the others, had gone to their burial. Damn. It wasn’t fair. She kicked at the sandy soil, sad and angry at the senseless loss of life. Those two sweet girls had often tagged along after Kerstin and Hanna when their families’ wagons were traveling close to each other. They, along with their quiet young mother, had even joined Anne and the girls for combined lessons. Head down, Jessie kicked at a rock in her path.

“Hey, ow, watch it,” an indignant voice called out.

Jessie glanced up and grimaced. “Sorry, James. Didn’t mean to get you.”

He hugged her. “I know, Jess. I know.”

She drew a shuddering breath. “They were so healthy the last time we saw them at Ash Hollow. They came over nearly every day to play and visit. How could it happen so fast?”

James ruffled her hair. “Just happens, that’s all. No reason. No blame.”

Jessie stared out into the darkness. If it happened to them, could members of their own caravan sicken and die without warning? And her brothers? Wasn’t this precisely why she wanted—no, needed—to come with them? As if reading her mind, James patted her shoulder.

“Nothing’s going to happen to any of us, Jess.”

She nodded but kept her fears to herself. “Think I’ll go for a walk. I need to be alone.”

“All right, but be careful. It’s getting dark, and there’s lots of prairie-dog holes and rattlers.”

“Not to mention those sword-plants,” she added with a wry grin. She had scrapes and cuts from them. With a half salute she left the noise of the camp behind. After an hour of aimless wandering, she heard the sound of an approaching horse. Turning, she recognized Wolf on his stallion. She stopped and waited. When he drew up alongside her and held out his hand, she took it, swinging up behind him.

He sent the horse galloping forward. Jessie laid her head against his shoulder, letting tears of grief flow. She didn’t question where he was taking her. She didn’t care. She just needed to be with him. He stopped just below Chimney Rock and pulled her around onto his lap. He held her until her storm of weeping passed. With one finger, he tipped her chin up. “Better?”

Jessie sniffed and nodded. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not the weepy sort, you know.” She tried to turn away, embarrassed, but Wolf held her close.

“It’s been a long day.” His fingers smoothed the moisture from her skin. Wolf clucked, and Black Shadow moved onward. “I know something that will make you feel better.”

She’d thought the landmark was his destination. “Where are we going?”

His smile was full of secret promise, and she settled against him, knowing he wouldn’t tell her. She smiled wistfully when she remembered the rose-scented cave they’d made their own. It would always hold a special place in her heart. Not only had she discovered the joys of becoming a woman there, but she’d also discovered a romantic side to Wolf. Since leaving Ash Hollow, he’d been able to come for her only once. But to her delight, each evening when she returned to her wagon, she’d find evidence of his love: a flower or a carved bit of wood or even a pretty stone waiting for her. And even though he still wouldn’t discuss the future, he surely knew after the closeness they’d shared that this bond between them was meant to be.

Wolf sent his stallion farther away from fires, tents and wagons.

Jordan and Elliot clambered up Chimney Rock, grunting and groaning as they fought for hand and footholds on the steep surface. “This is as far as I’m going,” Elliot shouted. He watched in amazement as Jordan pushed upward and carved their names into the soft, sandy rock.

“Come on up; the view is fantastic,” Jordan called. Elliot chanced a glance down and closed his eyes. Feeling slightly faint, he inched his way down, though he had to admit that the view was indeed something else. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving golden streaks to fade from the sky as the grayness of dusk wiped out all color. Far in the distant horizon, he noted dark clouds moving toward them.

From his great height above the prairie floor, Elliot drew in a deep breath and marveled over the countless small fires burning across the prairie like flickering fireflies. Clouds of smoke rose to stretch across the prairie, billowing upward to obliterate the moon and stars, leaving a layer of haziness to drift over the river. But enough was enough. He was more than ready to plant his feet back on solid ground. “I’ll wait for you down below, Jordan. Don’t know why I let you talk me into this.” Staring out at the North Platte River for one last look at the view, Elliot felt a silly, love-besotted grin come over him.

She
was out there, just a few miles back. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Mary Beth, with her long, silky brown hair, eyes the color of cinnamon, and a shy giggle. He’d met her at Ash Hollow. Her father was a preacher, and they were going to Oregon to start a new church with a large number of their congregation. With a sigh, he wished there were more time for courting on the trail.

He was a third of the way down when he heard what sounded like crying. Moving slowly, he inched his way around the base of the spiral, searching for the source. His brows drew
together when he saw a horse far below him with two riders. The man held a sobbing woman in his arms.

He wondered if they were the couple who’d lost their two daughters that day. But just as he was about to turn away, something familiar about the woman drew his attention. Taking another long look, Elliot nearly fell from his high perch. That was Jessie sitting across Wolf’s lap. What was she doing way out here? And why was she crying?

A boot tapping his head nearly sent him plunging to the ground. “Hey, you fall asleep down there, Elliot?”

“Jordan, look below. Isn’t that Jessie with Wolf?”

Jordan moved down until he clung to the rock next to Elliot. Brotherly concern etched lines into his face. “Looks like, but what’s going on?” The horse and rider rode off.

Jordan made his way down as fast as he dared, leaving Elliot to struggle on his own. Elliot hoped nothing was wrong.

Jessie glanced around her when Wolf halted his horse. She didn’t see anything special. She shrugged. Maybe he’d just brought her way out here where they could be alone. He struck a match and lit one candle so he could see where to spread the blanket he’d tucked behind his saddle. That was when she heard it: the sound of burbling water reached her ears. Taking the candle, she held it out and peered into the darkness. She gasped with pleasure when she saw the secluded cove hidden by overgrown vegetation.

Wolf slid his arms around her waist from behind her and kissed her just below her ear. “Join me, Jessie,” he whispered.

Jessie groaned with desire. “What if someone comes?” She still found it disconcerting to make love in the open.

“It’s secluded, and unless one knows it’s here, finding it in the dark would be nearly impossible.” He turned her, framed her face between his hands and planted tiny, teasing kisses on her lips, flitting away before she could kiss him back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and shivered with desire. When she felt his lips move down to the sensitive flesh beneath her jaw, her head fell to one side, giving him complete access. “Oh, yes, Wolf.”

When his lips moved up to claim hers, all her pent-up worry and frustration surfaced. Suddenly she couldn’t wait. Wolf’s tender, slow pace wasn’t enough. Her need was too great. She pulled at his vest. “I need to touch you, see you—all of you, Wolf.”

Wolf stepped back and shucked off his vest, leaving only the glowing moonlight to bathe his golden skin. Then he made quick work of the ties to his buckskin breeches and stepped out of them. He stood before her, gloriously naked, strong, sure and hungry for her, yet he waited for her to make the next move.

Jessie stared at him, all of him. The sight of him was all it took for the sharp throbbing to start at the apex of her thighs. Heat radiated up and outward. She closed the distance between them, feeling bold, empowered. During their brief snatches of loving, Wolf had been the one in control, the one to set the pace. But not now. Not tonight. This time it was her turn. Her fingers gently raked his skin from his shoulder down to his nipples. She eased her thumbs over the tiny nubs, caressing them to hard points. Wolf sucked in his breath and bent his head to hers.

“Uh-uh.” She grinned, giving him a gentle push away. “My turn.” Bending her head to first one, then the other dark brown disc, she tasted him, licking and laving and suckling, paying homage to him as he’d done countless times to her. When she felt a deep shudder pass through him, she knew it pleased him. And knowing she pleased him set her own desire humming. With
her tongue and lips, she blazed a trail downward and teased the hollow of his navel until Wolf let out a rumbling moan and pulled her back up.

“God, Jessie, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tried to end her tormenting explorations.

Staring at the sheen of sweat covering his body, Jessie teased her fingertips lower. “Yes, I do.” And holding his smoky blue gaze with hers, she reached down and took the hard length of him in her hand. She licked her lips and stroked him gently from root to tip.

He trembled, pulsing with need. Her own body responded. Heat and moisture gathered between her legs, and an ache for what he could give her settled low in her belly. Tearing her gaze from his, she glanced down and saw a single drop of dew beaded on his very tip. She smoothed it away, marveling at his velvety softness. But when her fingers cupped him, he tipped her face up, holding her firmly between his hands.

“No more.” He groaned. His lips came down on hers, hard, hungry and demanding.

Jessie wrapped his long hair around her fists and pulled his head to her, meeting him kiss for frantic kiss. His hands tugged her shirt from the waistband of her trousers, his lips nipping along her jaw and glided down her throat. She arched forward, her head lolling back.

Wolf blazed a trail down past the pulsing hollow of her throat. Each button gave way and revealed smooth, pale skin for his lips and tongue to tease and taste. Her shirt fell to the ground, and his hands lifted to cup her pale breasts. She gasped when his fingers feathered lightly over the erect nipples. “So beautiful, so ripe. I’m going to taste you, sweet Jess, all of you.”

He bent his head, his lips closing first over one beaded nipple, then drawing the other one deep into his mouth. Jessie shuddered as the throbbing in her center increased. She moved her hips in invitation, feeling the tension growing between her legs. “Please, Wolf, I need you,” she pleaded, rubbing herself against his hardness.

“Not yet,
kechuwa,
” he murmured. Quickly he undressed her, tossing her pants away. She stood before him, clothed only in starlight, and as she’d done to him, his tongue stroked in and out of her navel, swirling in and around the tiny indentation.

Jessie cried out when she felt his tongue trail lower, setting the sensitive nerve endings of her belly on fire. But when his lips pressed against the tight nest of curls that hid her damp womanhood, she stopped breathing. Her fingers tangled in his golden-brown hair. His hands gripped her buttocks, pulling her even closer to allow the tip of his tongue to slip between her folds and stroke her sensitive bud. She shuddered and her knees quivered under his sensual assault. Resting her weight on hands that gripped his shoulders, she jerked her hips against his mouth.

“Wolf, oh, God, I can’t, not like this,” she cried, feeling herself growing tighter with the need for release.

“Yes, my wild rose. Let me feel your release against my mouth. Let me taste you. Do it,” he begged, his voice thick with desire. “Now!”

The choice was taken from her when his tongue flicked against her in earnest. Her hips jerked, keeping pace with Wolf’s velvety strokes until spasm after wonderful spasm rocked her, sending her soaring to a wondrous, shuddering ecstasy. Gasping for breath, she fell against him. Wolf lowered her to the blanket and leaned over her. “I love you, Jessie,” he cried. With one thrust, he ignited the flames of their passion, sending them both soaring through the heavens.