Forever Ecstasy (42 page)

Joe pulled the two items from inside his shirt. “This is why I asked and why I’m worried.” He related the payroll robbery and massacre of the soldiers and told her how Jim and he had gotten these possessions.

Morning Star put aside her plate and took them in her hands. The tiny knife seemed identical to her pursuer’s. “When we reach my camp, we will learn if he has lost his.” She examined the headband, closed her eyes, and breathed her own sigh of great relief. Smiling, she looked at Joe and said, “This not my brother’s. I help Mother make Night Stalker’s headband. Touched-A-Crow cannot bead good. Bow and knife in wrong hands. It not long enough for brother’s head. Thongs not same as we use.”

“I didn’t think they would be so reckless with sacred possessions.”

“But you think they be so reckless to raid in secret?”

Joe glanced at the ground, then returned his gaze to hers. “Yes. Sometimes men do what they want, not what they should do. Sometimes they think that once a glorious and daring deed is done, others won’t be angry with them for defying orders. Sometimes they just do as they please and keep it a secret to avoid trouble and punishment. I’m sorry, Morning Star, but I think Knife-Slayer is that kind of man; and I’m not sure he couldn’t talk your brother into helping him. You know Night Stalker’s feelings about whites and war, truce and the Crow. With Knife-Slayer pushing and pulling at him to prove his prowess…”

“I sad to say, you right. But brother stop bad journey when he see wrong trail for people. Knife-Slayer talk and push much, but brother not jump on wild horse without much thinking. He not want to get hurt so cannot become chief after Father. I not believe brother do raids to now. But if trouble grows, he talk to council for war.”

“With luck, he’ll realize peace is best for everyone.”

They finished their meal and clean-up task in silence. Each took a turn being excused in the shadows, then each did the same for a quick bath to remove the day’s grime. By then, night surrounded the site. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked,
owls hooted, water babbled its way around obstacles, a coyote howled in the distance and received no answer, and nocturnal birds called back and forth: all giving sounds that relaxed the couple. A cooling breeze wafted over the Indian beauty and the sunny-haired white man. The sky was clear above them, with only twinkling stars and a crescent moon to adorn it. They breathed deeply of the scents of grass, wildflowers, and burning wood. They felt far removed from civilization, basking in the glow of the campfire.

As Morning Star used a brush of blunted porcupine quills on her unbound hair, she said, “We ride on grasslands for many days. Not many trees or water. I know where to find and make camp each day. We see many bands and tribes hunting buffalo. Many be Dakotas; some be Oglalas. In five suns we reach Bird People. Most tribes use same hunting grounds every season. We be safe with Dakotas, but Crow… It be dangerous to enter enemy camps. We be brave and do sacred mission.”

Both realized that peril and possible death lay before them. Both wanted and needed each other before confronting either one.

Joe watched the raven tresses shine more and more from her brushing; the firelight seemed to sparkle off the glossy hairs. She looked so feminine and delicate with ebony hair flowing around her shoulders and framing her exquisite face. He was too aware of the fact she had not removed the damp blanket around her freshly scrubbed body and put on clean garments, just as he was sitting opposite her with only the dying flames separating them wearing nothing but a doubled blanket around his hips.

Morning Star felt Joe’s gaze and thoughts upon her, as if they gave sensuous caresses to her tingly flesh. The tenderness in his eyes gradually waxed to smoldering desire. It was evident he wanted her as much as she craved him. So much stood between them and would forever keep them apart. For them to have a life together they must prevent a war, expose the true villains, overcome the hatred and suspicions each side had for the other, understand and accept each other’s people, and
compromise on their beliefs and customs. Yet, if they solved or lessened any of those obstacles, more would arise and others increase. Surely there could never be more for them than what they could steal along their journey, for neither side could be changed very much. And as long as things remained the same, he could not live in her endangered world and she could not enter his hostile one.

Joe stood and went to her. “Let me do this,” he entreated, urging the brush from her hand. He stepped over the cottonwood trunk she was sitting on, which had fallen from age. As he passed the bristles through her silky strands, he murmured, “Your hair is beautiful, Morning Star, like you are. I love the way it feels around my fingers; it’s as smooth as water.”

She closed her eyes and savored the unique pleasure. “Only Mother do this task before you. I like. I make your task every night.”

Joe felt her warm laughter flow over his body. “Fine with me,” he replied, and heard how husky his voice sounded.

After a time, she said, “I do Joe now,” and sent forth giggles.

He was about to decline, but didn’t. He exchanged places with her. She stood behind him, as he had done with her. With gentleness and care, she brushed his wheat-colored mane. He was surprised it felt so relaxing.

“You like, too?” she asked, her tone merry.

“Yep,” he murmured. Her body touched his and the shape of it filled his mind. The blanket tickled his bare flesh, but he would never tell her to step away.

Morning Star delighted in the various sensations that teased through her body. The way her breasts rubbed against the blanket and then against his body tantalized her. She thought of soft rabbit fur as her fingers traveled behind her brush strokes. She felt as if this were a new and exciting adventure. Her heart raced fast and seemed as if it filled to a bursting point. The power of her feelings washed over her like a raging river that carried her away, beyond the bank of retreat.

Joe experienced contradictory sensations of tension and serenity. It was as if tiny, invisible flames from the fire before
him licked at his tanned flesh. Mercy, how he yearned to turn around, pull her into his arms, cover her mouth with kisses, then make blissful love to her!
Why not?
his hear demanded. They were in a safe and private location, and soon, the open Plains would take away both. Soon, their life together would be broken apart, as his heart surely would be, too. How could he face life without her?

Morning Star perceived the change in Joe as his calmed and happy body became taut and troubled. She decided his thoughts matched hers. If only they could remain tranquil and together forever, but he knew, as well as she did, that was forbidden. Her warring heart warned,
You have only the passings of a few full moons with him, seize all of them. Store them in your heart.

All day, each had fantasized about the other and their next joining. They had daydreamed of being in each other’s embrace with emotions unleashed and passions unrestrained. They had imagined their hands traveling over each other’s body— stimulating, pleasuring, sating.

Before Joe could act on his impulse to yank her into his arms, the brave Morning Star dropped her brush, stepped over the large log, and stood before him. She gazed into his eyes with obvious longing. When she saw him return that look, she maneuvered into his lap. Without boldness, she rested her legs over the cottonwood and shifted close to him, her knees hugging his hips on either side and her hands wrapped over his broad shoulders. Still, his lips were out of reach, until her fingers journeyed into his hair and pulled his head downward to mesh their mouths.

Joe’s arms encircled her blanket-clad body, and he held her against him. His astonishment quickly faded, replaced by urgent desire. His lips worked ravenously at hers. He felt intoxicated by the nectar his mouth gathered from hers. His mind reeled from her nearness.

When their lips parted, Joe’s trailed over her face and down her throat. Morning Star leaned her head back and let him do as he pleased. She was his willing captive, his prisoner of delight. She thrilled to the way she felt as his mouth tasted the
pulse at her neck. Her mind was awhirl in a mixture of sensations, as she let herself go completely.

Her long raven hair teased over Joe’s hands at her waist. He felt the heat radiating from her womanhood to his groin. His tongue played in the hollows of her throat and trekked over her collarbone. Her flesh was like Oriental silk; no Parisian perfume could smell sweeter than she did. His teeth gripped the blanket, tugged at the thin covering that kept him from this hidden treasure, and loosened it to explore the depths of her surrender. He stroked her breasts with his cheek, then tasted the sweet flesh. He didn’t know who moaned with delight, he or she, or both.

Morning Star was glad when Joe eased them downward to the grass but didn’t change their position. It was bliss that he had freed the blanket around his hips as he did so. Nothing was between them now. Her knees rested on the ground at his sides. While he kissed her with greediness, she eased him inside her. As they shared endless, countless kisses, she rocked upon his lap.

The campfire was dying, but the entwined couple seemed to give off more heat than a hundred flames could. Their passions burned brighter and hotter until the greatest blaze of all ignited and consumed them. It melted their wills, then forged the molten liquid into one bond.

“I love you, Morning Star; I love you,” Joe confessed.

Her heart flooded with overwhelming emotion.
“Waste cedake,
Joe;
waste cedake.”
She murmured the same words in her language.

Joe understood them, or prayed he did. “We belong to each other forever,” he vowed, and it was not the result of the rapture he experienced. It was true, and time to act on his feelings.

Morning Star rested her head against Joe’s shoulder. She felt limp and content in his possessive embrace. She liked the way his fingers teased up and down her spine and the way his head nestled against her hair. She was at home in is arms, more at peace there than anywhere. But when he spoke, his words dissolved the golden aura that encompassed them.

Joe said in an emotion-strained voice, “We have to talk,
love.”

Morning Star heard the seriousness in his voice. She lifted her head and read it in his gaze. She sensed what was coming, and wondered if she were ready to confront that awesome truth. “I must bathe and dress. We talk when I return.” Joe did not try to stop her as she rose. She retrieved her blanket, gathered her garments, and headed for the river.
Medicine
it was called, but could it heal what wounded her heart and diseased her life? Could anything or anyone, even her beloved Joe? She dreaded testing its powers when she left its water.

Joe bathed not far away, deep in thought. If he couldn’t persuade her they belonged together and must find a way to share one life, his future existence would be as dark as the night closing in on them. To chase away those depressing shadows, he tossed more wood onto the glowing coals when he finished rinsing off and had donned his garments. Too, he wanted to be able to see her face when they talked.

Morning Star returned, dressed in a buckskin top and skirt with swaying fringes. Her feet were bare, and her flowing mane was braided.

Joe tensed. He feared the plait was symbolic of her restraining her emotions. He spread their bedrolls, took a seat on his, and motioned for her to join him. Instead, she sat on hers. “I love you, Morning Star. I need you,” he vowed in earnest.

Never had anything been harder than to not fling herself into his arms, cover him with kisses, and repeat those beautiful words. It took more strength than Sun Cloud’s daughter knew she had to reply, “We do not know what Grandfather will bring on the new… tomorrow. We must eat the joys of today which He allows. Tomorrow or another sun, they may not be.”

“I want you every day, Morning Star, for the rest of my life.”

“It cannot be,” she responded, her gaze exposing anguish.

“We’ll find a way to stay together. I love you. I want you to become my wife. I can’t lose you, woman. I can’t get enough of you during the next few months to last me a lifetime. We’ve tried to love day to day. I want more. I want to marry you. I want to have children with you. I want to grow old with you at my side. I want to share every day with you.”

“It cannot be. The path between us is filled with brush; it stops us from riding together. My trail is here. Your trail is…”

“I love you and must have you, Morning Star. I’ll burn any brush tossed in our way. I’ll fight for you, woman, any way necessary.”

No matter what happened, Joe loved her and wanted her, Morning Star knew. She was no redskin, no savage, no wild animal to him. He considered her worthy to become his wife. But it required sacrificing her life here and her loved ones and entering the enemy world. She tried to halt the painful talk. “Some forests are too large and thick to burn, and some rivers are too deep and swift to cross.”

Undaunted now that his decision was made, Joe argued, “I’m a good swimmer. I’ll keep moving through the water to remove any obstacle between us. While we’re finishing this mission, I’ll teach you everything I know. When we reach my home in Virginia, my mother and sister will teach you all I don’t know. My family and I will make certain you don’t have any trouble adjusting to our world. My family will love you and accept you as I do.”

Anxiety attacked her so forcefully that she trembled. “It cannot be! Do not hurt us with such words,” she entreated.

Joe crawled to her, took her quivering hands, and refuted. “It can be.”

Morning Star worried over his persistence. In her dilemma, she rushed her arguments and her English suffered. “We not the same. I die in your world. If I change to live, I not be Morning Star. If I choose Joe, I betray family, people, ways, and Great Spirit. I break law! I be banished, dishonored. Never see family and lands again. You ask Morning Star to go to enemy land where Indians hated. Where I not know how to survive. Tha destroy Morning Star, destroy love we share. It not… simple as to speak words. For Joe, perhaps it sound simple. For Morning Star, it mean denying all she is and possesses; it mean shame and separation for me and family. It mean banishment, dishonor,” she stressed.