Feather in the Wind (12 page)

Chapter Twelve

They reached the Indian village two days later. Looking at the hide lodges spread along the banks of a slow-moving river, Susannah was reminded of a scene from
Dances With Wolves
.

“Do not be afraid, Su-san-nah,” Tate Sapa said. “My people will not hurt you.”

She tried to look unconcerned, but she grew increasingly more nervous as they neared the village.

Dogs of all sizes ran forward, barking furiously as Black Wind reached the first hide lodge. Men, women and children stopped whatever they were doing and turned in their direction. Susannah felt their stares as she passed by.

By the time they reached the center of the village, a large group of men had gathered around them.

Tate Sapa reined the stallion to a halt in front of a large tipi, then slid from the back of his horse. Susannah watched the crowd part for an elderly man who limped toward Tate Sapa and embraced him.

They spoke softly for a few minutes. Susannah listened to the harsh guttural sounds, wishing she knew what they were saying.

After a time, Tate Sapa lifted Susannah from the saddle. He had told his father only that she had saved his life, nothing more.

“Su-san-nah,” he said, “this is my father, He Wonjetah.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Susannah said.

“He does not speak English, but he bids me welcome you to our lodge.”

“Tell him thank you.”

“You tell him. The Lakota word for thank you is
pilamaya
.”

“
Pilamaya
,” Susannah repeated.

He Wonjetah nodded at her. He was a tall man, with an austere countenance and long black braids tinged with gray. He wore a rawhide shirt, leggings and moccasins, and leaned heavily on a walking stick. He looked familiar somehow, though she knew that was impossible.

“This is my lodge,” Black Wind said. “Go inside and wait for me.”

Susannah didn’t argue. She was only too glad to get away from the curious stares of the Indians.

The inside of the lodge was dim. Furs covered the floor. There were two backrests made of woven wood, several large packs that she assumed held clothing or supplies of some kind, a few pots and bowls. Near the back of the lodge was a small earthen mound that looked like an altar. The lining of the lodge was decorated with drawings of horses and men. She studied them for a minute, trying to decipher their meaning, then turned away.

She whirled around, her heart pounding, as the door flap lifted.

“Oh,” she said, relieved to see Black Wind, “it’s you.”

He looked at her, one black brow arched in amusement. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Kevin Costner?”

Tate Sapa frowned. “What?”

“Never mind. So, what am I supposed to do now?”

“You will do as I say.”

“Will I?”

Tate Sapa nodded slowly, emphatically. “I have told my people that you are my captive.”

Susannah shrugged. “Big deal. That’s what I am.”

“They will expect me to punish you if you do not obey me.”

“No doubt you’d enjoy it,” she replied waspishly.

“Su-san-nah…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Crossing the floor, Tate Sapa gathered her into his arms, thinking again how small she was, how fragile. “I will not hurt you.”

“I know.”

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tell me you do not feel what I feel when I hold you close, and I will leave you alone.”

“Will you let me go?”

“I cannot. Not until I know why you were sent to me.”

“What if you never find out?”

He shook his head. “I do not know. We will speak of that later. I want to know what you feel when I hold you, Su-san-nah.”

Her gaze slid away from his. “I don’t know what I feel.”

“I know. Your heart pounds when I am near. Your body warms and longs for my touch. You think of me when we are apart. You dream of me at night.”

His voice spun a silken web around her heart. His eyes were dark, burning with a fierce inner fire that threatened to burn away her resistance.

She shook her head. “No…”

“You are lying, Su-san-nah. You can lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to me. I see the truth in your eyes.” His hands slid down her arms, making her shiver. “I know what you want. It is what I want.”

She looked up at him, helpless to resist as he lowered his head and kissed her. Fire. Rivers of fire racing through every vein. Oceans of fire engulfing her, consuming her, until she couldn’t think of anything but his kisses, the touch of his hands on her skin inflamed her, making her yearn for more.

“Black Wind…” She drew back and gazed up at him, gasping for breath, and then, standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. They stood close, close enough that she could feel every inch of his body against her own. Caught up in a maelstrom of desire, she forgot where she was, forgot everything but the need this man aroused in her.

She thought the kiss might have lasted forever if someone hadn’t chosen that moment to rap on the lodge flap.

Tate Sapa drew his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged. “
Tima hiyuwo
,” he called hoarsely. Come in.

Susannah had eyes only for Black Wind until she heard a startled gasp that was decidedly feminine.

Guilt flickered in Black Wind’s eyes as he stepped away from her.

Glancing around, Susannah saw a slender girl with long black hair standing near the door. The girl was young and beautiful, with large dark eyes and dusky skin. She wore an ankle-length dress Susannah guessed was made of doeskin. Long fringe dangled from the sleeves. A colorful design fashioned of beads was worked into the yoke.

“Wakinyela,” Tate Sapa murmured. He released Susannah and took a step toward the other woman.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, sparking with jealousy as she looked Susannah up and down. “Who is this?” she asked.

“Wakinyela, this is Su-san-nah. She saved my life.”

“Why is she here?”

Tate Sapa squared his shoulders. “Because I want her here.”

“I do not.”

“We are not yet married,” Tate Sapa said, his voice cool. “This is still my lodge.”

“She is staying here?”

“She is mine.”

Wakinyela made a sound of disgust in her throat. “We are betrothed, Tate Sapa. I will not share you with a
wasicun winyan
, or let you shame me in front of our people.”

“If there is any shame here, it is yours,” Tate Sapa replied curtly. “Su-san-nah saved my life. She is my captive, but also a guest in my lodge. You will treat her with the respect she deserves.”

“I will treat her as the enemy!” Wakinyela exclaimed, her voice rising. “Have you forgotten that the
wasichu
killed my father and your mother and sister? I will not make her welcome.”

Wakinyela reached behind her and withdrew the knife sheathed behind her back. “She should die, as my father died. As my brother died!”

Susannah listened curiously to the heated exchange, wishing she could understand what they were saying. Now, she took a hasty step backward. The hatred blazing in the woman’s eyes transcended language.

“Wakinyela!” Eyes flashing fire, Tate Sapa plucked the knife from the woman’s grasp. “Does my life mean so little to you that you would kill the woman who saved it?”

“Does my pride mean so little to you that you would bring a
wasicun winyan
into your lodge to mock my grief? I have sworn on the graves of my loved ones to kill any
wasichu
I meet.”

Tate Sapa took hold of her shoulders. “
Wachin-ksapa ya!
You will not avenge yourself on Su-san-nah.”

Wakinyela glared up at him, her black eyes like cold fire, her lips compressed in a thin angry line.

“I will have your word that you will not try to harm her.”

“I will not give it!” With slow deliberation, she put her hands on his and removed them from her shoulders. “You are no longer my betrothed.
Hecheto aloe.
” It is finished.

“
Nunwe
,” Tate Sapa replied quietly. So be it.

Wakinyela sent a last, fulminating glance at Susannah, then, her head high and proud, she stalked out of the lodge.

“What was that all about?” Susannah asked.

“She is angry because you are here. We were to marry, but she has thrown me away.”

“I’m sorry,” Susannah said, knowing, even as she spoke the words, that it was a lie.

Tate Sapa shook his head. “It is not your fault.”

“I didn’t know you were engaged.”

He shrugged. “It was my father’s wish that I marry Wakinyela.”

“Are you…do you love her?”

“No, Su-san-nah, I do not love Wakinyela. I never did.”

For some reason, that knowledge pleased her a great deal. Tate Sapa let out a deep breath as he drew Susannah into his arms again. “Do not be afraid, Su-san-nah. I will not let anyone harm you.”

Susannah nodded, but she couldn’t forget the hatred in Wakinyela’s eyes or the fervor in the woman’s voice when she spoke of vengeance.

Her gaze darted toward the door as she heard someone enter the lodge. At first, she feared Wakinyela had returned, but it was He Wonjetah, Tate Sapa’s father. She was struck again by the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before.

The old man stared at Susannah for a long moment before turning his attention to his son. “What is this you have done?”

Susannah felt Black Wind’s arms tighten around her. She couldn’t understand what the old man was saying, but she was certain it concerned her presence in his lodge.

“What do you mean?” Tate Sapa asked.

“Wakinyela tells me she no longer wishes to marry you. She says you have shamed her by bringing this
wasicun winyan
into your lodge.”

“I have shamed no one,” Tate Sapa replied.

“What does this
wasicun winyan
mean to you?”

“She saved my life,
Ate
.”

“That is all you feel for this white woman? Gratitude?”

He Wonjetah’s keen black eyes held Black Wind’s gaze, as if daring him to lie.

Tate Sapa shook his head. “I am not certain of what I feel. Do you remember the vision I had last winter?”

He Wonjetah nodded. “
Hin
, I remember.”

“Su-san-nah is the woman I saw.”

Susannah looked up at Black Wind as she recognized her name. He smiled down at her, his gaze tender and reassuring.

“You are certain of this?” He Wonjetah asked.

Tate Sapa nodded. “She came to me at the fort where I was imprisoned.” Lifting his hand, he removed the eagle feather from his hair. “She had this with her.”

He Wonjetah took the feather from his son’s hand. “How did she come to have Wanbli’s sacred feather?”

“I do not know.”

“Ask her.”

“Su-nan-nah?”

She looked up at him, her expression apprehensive. She didn’t have to understand Lakota to know that Black Wind’s father was less than thrilled with her presence.

Black Wind smiled at her reassuringly. “From where did you get the prayer feather?”

“An Indian gave it to me.”

“What Indian? What was his name?”

“I don’t know.” Susannah licked her lips, wondering if he would believe what she was about to say. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Tell me then.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Do not be. I will let no one harm you.”

“My home is far from here,” she said. “Far in the future.”

“I do not understand.”

“The future. Do you know what year it is?”

He frowned at her, then shook his head.

“The white men number the passage of time in days, weeks, months and years. This is the year 1870. I come from the year 1997. That’s over a hundred years from now.” She frowned a moment. “A hundred summers from now,” she explained, recalling that the Indians counted their time in moons and summers instead of months and years.

Tate Sapa shook his head. “That is not possible.”

“I know. I don’t believe it either, but here I am. I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know how to get back where I belong.”

Tate Sapa stared down at her. He understood her words, but was such a thing possible?

“You said you saw me in a vision.”

“Yes.”

“Did you see anything else?”

Brow furrowed, he recalled the vision. At the time, he had not considered the other things he had seen; he had had eyes only for the woman who had captured his likeness on a piece of paper.