Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (15 page)

Wind Dancer struggled to retain control of his overtures and her
effect on him. She was so tempting, so beautiful, so responsive that it
evoked a fierce yearning in him to possess her fully. But, he was not
certain she was ready to take that step. For now, he must be satisfied
just to hold her, taste her lips, caress her arms and face, and heighten
her awareness of him as a man. He realized he had to halt their stimulating
behavior soon or stopping would he impossible for him. With reluctance,
he dragged his mouth from hers and said, "It is good to work on such
skills, as they will strengthen our bond for when we are alone and for
when we are with others."

"Your words are true and wise, mihigna. We get closer each time we
are together in this way, and soon no space will exist between us. I am
happy you wish us to become friends and learn to trust each other
before we bond as mates. It is a good thing we do for our future life
together."

"Your words also are wise and true, mitawin. It is good we wait and
move closer, for our bond will be stronger and more satisfying when
we join together as friends than if we had done so as strangers. Now
it is time to sleep, for we do not know what tasks or dangers lie before
us on the next sun."

The romantic game, which served to increase their mutual attraction,
ended too soon to suit either one.

The next morning, her husband's young sister entered the tepee and
said to Chumani, "We go to wash garments, Dewdrops. Come with
us. Macha, my mother, and Pretty Meadow head for the river now."

"That is good, my sister. I will come as soon as my soup is cooking."

After Hanmani left, Chumani tethered Cetan to his post outside so
he could guard her fire and the kettle suspended over it, a trade item
from the white man's world and a gift from one of his people. She
collected their dirty garments and joined the other females at the river.

She liked Hanmani, who was thirteen winters old, and her best friend
Dawn, who was two winters older. Watching the girls laugh and talk
and work together caused her to miss Zitkala even more than she had
since their four-moon separation, six moons if she counted the two
before Wind Dancer's arrival and their joining. She could hardly wait
to see her best friend and to talk with her about the many changes in
her life. She knew Zitkala missed her terribly, too, and would have
difficulty finding another very close friend, as Chumani had accepted
the differences in Zitkala's looks and manner without any reservations.
Unfortunately, the males of her tribe viewed Zitkala as an unattractive
and unfeminine woman, while the females viewed her a man. Surely
the Great Spirit had a good reason for creating Zitkala that way, and
some sun or moon it would be revealed to them and all others.

Chumani realized how much she also missed the exciting hunts and
challenging raids with Zitkala. Now that she was confined to camp in
a wife's role, she missed the freedom she had come to enjoy in her
camp. She also was aware that many of Wind Dancer's people seemed
to watch her whenever she was outside. She understood they were
curious about her and wondered what part she would play in the coming
quest. She yearned for a visit with her best friend and with her family,
so the seasonal move to the grasslands after the next full moon would
be a favorable event. But that would not take place, she counted up,
for another twenty or more nightly moons.

That afternoon while Chumani was speaking with his sister near their
tepee, Wind Dancer joined them and asked his wife to go for a short
walk in the forest and suggested Cetan go with them.

"I cannot do so, mihigna, for I must watch the fire and soup."

Hanmani smiled. "Go with him, Dewdrops," she said, "and I will
watch them for you. I have beading to be done. I will sit nearby and
do both."

"You are kind, my sister. Come, mitawin, and share a walk with
me," he entreated again, extending his hand to her.

Chumani realized she had no choice except to go with him, as to
protest would not look good before his sister. She untethered Cetan
and allowed him to fly upward, knowing he would keep his keen eyes
on her and follow wherever she went.

After they returned, Hanmani left to help her mother with their
evening meal and Wind Dancer went to play toss-the-hoop with Red
Feather and his brother, War Eagle. Although it was a game, it was also
training to enhance their hand-to-eye coordination, flexibility, and target
accuracy skills. She would like to see if he could ring the Y-shaped
sticks-far and near, tall and short, or either chosen branch-with the
various-sized willow hoops each time he flung them from a measured
distance. She wished she could go with him and even join in on the
fun and show him how skilled she was at it. But she was not invited:
the other men could object if she were, and she could not leave her
soup and tepee unguarded.

Instead, Chumani sat beneath a shade tree on a furry hide to do
beading on a shirt given to Wind Dancer in her camp. She allowed
Cetan to stay untethered so he could enjoy freedom for a while longer.

As she sat down on a sitting mat inside their tepee, Chumani noticed
the scowl on her husband's face as he stared at the soup in the wooden
bowl which she had served him. "What is wrong, mihigna?"she asked.

Wind Dancer looked at her, took a deep and decisive breath, and
said with reluctance but in a gentle tone, "The soup is not good."

Chumani filled her spoon, sipped from it, and frowned. She lifted
the bowl and sniffed its contents, but detected no foul or unusual odor.
She eyed the ingredients as she stirred them but sighted nothing strange.
She tasted the soup again and tried to determine what caused its odd
flavor, which teased too lightly at the back of her mind to grasp it. If
the same trickster had put something in the kettle, it had been ground
too fine to be visible. But with Hanmani working nearby during their
absence, she mused, how was that possible? It was possible, she answered
herself, if the trickster was watching the young girl and she left for a
short time to excuse herself in the bushes. She knew she must not ask
Hanmani any questions, or speculate about her new suspicion to her
husband. There was no doubt in her mind that someone-the unknown
trickster, Hanmani, or Wind Dancer-had ruined the soup. But, Chumani worried, who and why? As a test or a spiteful deed?

"I do not understand why it is so bitter," she deceived him by
murmuring. "Its looks and smell are good. Perhaps an evil spirit possessed
the creature who provided its meat. Or dwelled within the plants I
gathered," she quickly added to prevent her prior words from sounding
like an insult to the family hunter or as if she were passing the blame
to him. "Perhaps one or the other is tainted. We must not eat it or we
may become sick or even die. Perhaps that is what the harmful spirit
desires, so it can stop us from going on the sacred visionquest."

Wind Dancer observed how she kept her gaze lowered to the bowl
in her hands as if denying him a view of her eyes, and he listened to
the tone of her voice which sounded strained. From those clues, he
suspected she was not being fully honest with him and wondered why.
Was she responsible for the two strange occurrences, either by accident
or on purpose, and was grasping at anything to use as an explanatory
excuse, or was an evil hand truly at work in their lives as she had
proposed? There was that almost hated number two again; first, the
oversize cookfire and burned meat, and now, bitter inedible soup. But
if it was not Dewdrops or a silwaecon, he reasoned, who was behind such wicked mischief and why was it being done? He had no enemy
or rival in his camp, and he had seen no member treat her as either
one. Yet, something bad was afoot, as he was convinced that a cunning
instigator was behind the two matters.

"Until this mystery is resolved, mitawin, we must keep it a secret to
prevent insults and trouble," Wind Dancer suggested. "But we must
keep our eyes and ears alert for another trick. We do not want anything
or anyone to stop or damage the sacred challenge before us. Do you
not agree?"

"That is true, mihigna, "she responded as her gaze locked with his.
"I will stay alert and near our tepee so I will not be tricked again. I do
not want you or your people to think I am foolish and careless."

She looked as if she was being truthful that time. But her action
would deny them of any future walks and rides ... Could that be the
motive behind the two puzzling incidents? Did she dislike those romantic
outings? Was she repulsed by him, only enduring his touch? There were
a few questions he could ask and a certain request he could make which
might expose her feelings. Tonight. Now.

After serving Wind Dancer some of last winter's pemmican, wasna,
leftover bread from that morning, and dried fruit from the last hot
season, Chumani carried the kettle into the forest. She dug a hole,
emptied its contents there, and replaced the dirt. She piled rocks atop
the location to prevent Wakantanka's animals from eating the bad soup
and becoming sick, or worse. Afterward, she went to the river to scrub
the kettle. All the while, she had the sensation that she was being
watched, but could sight no one.

Later, as she unrolled and spread their sleeping mat, Wind Dancer
lifted an item, grinned, and said as he shook it between his fingers,
"Why do we not play Share-The-Blanket before we rest? We still have
much to learn about each other to strengthen our bond." He watched
her as she looked up at him, smiled, and nodded. That told him she
had no objection to the courting game of talking privately under that
cover, which was usually done outside by couples who were getting
acquainted or in love. When they did so, everyone was supposed to
pretend they did not notice them.

Instead of going outside where it was cool and they would be noticed
by others or standing inside the tepee, they sat down cross-legged and
face-to-face on the sleeping mat. As soon as they were positioned for a
cozy talk, he tossed a Cheyenne trade blanket over their heads. It settled around their shoulders and halted near their hips, which, added to the
loose weave of the material, allowed for light from the campfire to sneak
under its edges and to penetrate its tiny holes to prevent total darkness
from encompassing them. Their hands rested in their laps, and their
knees touched. In the dim light, their gazes locked as they readied
themselves for the game.

"Do our joining and friendship bring you joy and pride, mitawin?"
Wind Dancer asked.

That question was unexpected but she responded without hesitation,
"Yes, mihigna. We have a good match and alliance for us and our
people. You are a man of many superior skills and traits. I am honored
to be your wife."

"As I am honored and pleased to have Dewdrops as my wife. Your
good skills and traits are too numerous too count. We would not be
mates if the Crow had not attacked our two camps long ago. Does love
still live in your heart for your first husband? Do you still long to see
and be with him?"