Proud Wolf's Woman (18 page)

But would his heart?

Where had that thought come from?

He shut his eyes and had Neeheeowee been alone, he might have groaned, but Julia lay only a few feet away, and Neeheeowee knew that if he spoke, she might stir and then he might…

He wouldn’t think of it.

With a power borne of long practice, Neeheeowee returned his attention to his guard. He would not think of her. He would also not sleep this night, not in enemy lands. Besides, he hadn’t really slept well since he’d begun this journey with Julia, his body too rigid, his thoughts too erotic, his emotions too extreme.

He wished to keep her with him.

The thought came from nothing, yet the power of it struck him as though sent to him through the magic of thunder, its medicine streaming through him with every pulsebeat in his body. And he knew: He might seek revenge, he might even have purpose to free the spirits of his wife and child, yet nothing was more vital to him at this moment than keeping Julia with him.

How could this have happened? And to him, a man who needed no one, a man who especially wanted no female in his life?

Yet, he could not deny it. He wanted Julia, with her quiet strength, her soothing companionship, and unerring faith in him…and he wanted her to stay.

But would she come with him?

He snorted. He remembered several seasons ago, a little over seven to be more precise, he’d made an indirect bid for her, not with her parents, as he should have done, but rather with the intention of stealing her away.

She had acted wisely, however, not even acknowledging him, and, Neeheeowee, realizing her wisdom, had put her and her memory away from him.

Caught up in his thoughts, he fingered the beaded necklace he still wore around his neck, the necklace made and given to him by Julia. And though he’d told himself over these years that he wore it for its beauty, and not for its giver, he knew now he had only fooled himself. Even his wife had once asked him about the necklace, but Neeheeowee had been unable to tell her all of it, merely indicating it had been made by a friend he had not seen in many seasons. And at the time Neeheeowee had believed it true. Julia had been only a friend—or so he had thought.

But his heart had never faltered. Not once. His heart had always known.

What good were these thoughts now? Julia was still white, still connected to her own world, a world completely foreign to his.

And he?

He could no more afford a wife right now than he could possess the moon. It took wealth to keep a woman; wealth he did not have. It also took companionship, something he would be hard-pressed to give, his solitary lifestyle one he favored over camp life.

And didn’t women need camp life? Didn’t they value the presence of others to talk to, others to help with the many chores that fell to the Indian woman?

Besides, there was the matter of the Pawnee murderer that he sought, the danger involved with that, something no man should subject a woman to.

No, he could not have Julia.

He jerked his head swiftly to the left, as though to give emphasis to his thoughts, and breathed deeply. It was true. He could not have Julia.

And as Neeheeowee glanced out over the awe-inspiring landscape, the vast sky, and the stars that twinkled forever against the blackness of night, he despaired.

Chapter Nine

Julia recognized this land over which they traveled: the rolling hills and tall grasses that grew as high as a man’s hips; the wild plums and strawberry patches; the stands of walnut and hickory, of oak and pecan.

“Home,” she murmured, the word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Fort Leavenworth. The end of the journey.

Julia gazed up toward Neeheeowee, who strode out in front of their pony, the animal held firmly by its reins. Sweet melancholy assailed her, and Julia closed her eyes, sighing.

She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to go “home.”

She opened her eyes to look before her. She didn’t see the fort, but she knew it was close. Hadn’t she been out this way a thousand times?

She didn’t want to go there.

What was there for her now, anyway? No parents, no husband; friends, maybe, though her best friend no longer resided there.

Besides, Julia seemed to have grown attached to this wandering lifestyle these past few weeks.

She wasn’t sure just when it had happened, nor was she certain when her attitude had changed.

She only knew she didn’t wish to leave it. There was something out here for her: the call of the open prairie and wide-open sky; the softness of spring over the land; the resonant songs of the meadowlark and sparrow; the multicolored flowers of poppies, of coreopsis; the opening squawk of the nighthawk in the twilight, of day…Neeheeowee.

And she realized with a deep sense of longing that she felt whole out here, free and independent, a sense of well-being washing over her that she found hard to explain, let alone acknowledge.

She wanted to stay with Neeheeowee. She wanted…

She pulled up her thoughts.

She couldn’t have it. She couldn’t have him.

There was no bridge which existed between their cultures, at least none that she could cross.

And so when Neeheeowee turned around to face her, no expression on his face, Julia cautioned herself to think long, to think wisely, and to think with her head, not with her heart.

But most of all, she cautioned herself to show no emotion, lest Neeheeowee should suspect her feelings. For somehow that he might know of her longings, that he might even foster sympathy for her plight appeared so much worse to her than having those feelings in the first place.

She couldn’t have his sympathy, she didn’t want it. So she gazed at him, her glance carefully devoid of any emotion, despite the hasty beating of her heart.

He came around the pony toward her, the reins of the mustang still held in his hand. He gazed up at her as soon as he reached her, placing the reins in her hands.

“Ta-naestse,”
he said, motioning her on in the direction of the fort.

Looking down at him, she feared she would be lost in the depths of his eyes. She tried to smile at him, but her lips shook so badly, she only managed a slight opening of her mouth.

She looked away, whispering, “Thank you,” but still her lips trembled, and Julia knew she was close to tears.

She was saying good-bye not only to the man who had rescued her, a man who treated her with kindness and care, but to a man whom she loved.

She would not cry. She resolved herself against it, yet the wetness clung to her lashes, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks if she so much as blinked.

“I will always appreciate your kindness to me,” she said to him, although she kept her head turned away. “And I want you to know,” she said in English, “that I will remember you till the moment I die because you see, Neeheeowee”—she shut her eyes—“I have fallen in love with you.”

She didn’t translate in gestures. She didn’t know how to. And Neeheeowee, himself, said nothing.

Yet, she could see in her peripheral vision that he nodded as though he’d understood her every word and then, before he set the pony in motion, he looked up to her, his feelings clearly etched there in his glance.

And he might have set the pony to run right then, but he didn’t.

Instead he said to her,
“Yagla’sni ye.”

And Julia, afraid to turn her head toward him, nodded back, as he had, just as though she’d understood his every utterance.

He waited. He hesitated. But at last, he switched the pony on the rump, setting it into a gallop across the prairie.

And if she’d only known that Neeheeoee, watching her go, died a little inside, she might have turned around. But she didn’t know and so, holding her head high, she continued onward.

Julia cried…openly, no longer afraid to hold back the tears.

“Why couldn’t he have asked me to stay?” she wept. “Why couldn’t he have kept me with him? Doesn’t he know of my feelings?”

But it seemed that he didn’t. And Julia had to face the fact that she might never know him again.

Yagla’sni ye.
Why did the words sound so familiar?

Yagla’sni ye.

Yagla’sni ye.

It struck her all at once.

Yagla’sni ye.

He did not speak in Cheyenne, a language she did not understand; he spoke in Lakota. Lakota, a language she had learned with Kristina over seven years ago. A language she could understand.

Yagla’sni ye.
It meant…“Please do not go.”

Please do not go?

Julia reined in the pony. Please do not go?

He wanted her to stay with him? He wanted to keep her with him?

Please do not go!

She turned the pony around, setting it to a run back toward the spot where she’d just left Neeheeowee.

She saw him in the distance.

She kept his gaze as she raced toward him. She drew up close to him, full speed, only reining in to stop the pony at the last moment.

The pony snorted, shaking its head. But Julia barely noticed.

She stared down at Neeheeowee, he back at her. She didn’t speak, neither did he; nothing uttered, no words spoken, and a dozen or more thoughts rushed through her mind all at the same time.

Had he meant what he said? Had she mistranslated it? Mortification raced through her at the thought that she might have it wrong, and she wondered if she should offer some excuse for returning to him, perhaps to ask him to take her to Kristina. She could always…

Julia drew a strained breath and at length, summoning her courage, she questioned,
“Yagla’sni ye?”

Still he said nothing, he took no action, until at last Neeheeowee stepped toward her, one step, another, then, in a flurry of motion, he swept Julia off the pony, saying over and over to her,
“Yagla’sni ye, yagla’ sni ye.”

Julia sighed in relief and there, on that open stretch of prairie, he began to kiss her once, twice, again, and still, not satisfied with that, he showered her with kisses, over her face, down her neck, over her shoulders. He held her so closely to him, she felt safer here now than she had ever felt within the tight confines of the fort.

“I love you,” she whispered, then said it again, liking the sound of it.

“Ne-mehotatse,”
he murmured back, and as Julia listened to his foreign tongue, she knew he told her the same thing.

And then he dropped to his knees, taking her with him, the tall grasses hiding them, though neither were aware of their surroundings.

But if someone could have seen them at this moment, they might have thought there knelt two Indians, so deeply in love, so enraptured with one another, their admiration outshone even the majestic surroundings of big sky and flower-laden prairie.

Neeheeowee and Julia had found one another… again. And at this moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

All thought fled. In truth, they could have been raided by an enemy at any time, so deeply were they enveloped in their own world.

They knelt, facing one another, holding on to each other as if one of them might disappear.

He kissed her face, her neck, his arms circling her, his hands stroking her spine.

Suddenly it was too much. She couldn’t wait. She wanted it all now.

She had been married. She was no innocent to the wonders of passion.

And she wanted Neeheeowee now.

She drew him in closer, her own hands running over his shoulders, his arms, his chest, down farther and farther, feeling all that lay there beneath his breechcloth.

He drew a shuddering breath and, his gaze meeting hers, he pulled up her skirt, thrusting aside his breechcloth and fitting himself within her.

No preamble, no whispered murmurings. Both knew what they wanted. Neither could wait.

She met his gaze as she fit her legs around him, her eyes rolling back as sweet sensation tore through her. She didn’t moan, she didn’t scream, unwilling to utter any sound that might give away their hidden location.

He kissed her neck, pulling her dress up farther to run his tongue over her breasts, all the while driving deeply within her.

He groaned and she lifted her head, seeking out his gaze. Passion, love, admiration were all illuminated there in his eyes, and Julia could not look away.

She watched him, reading the passion there as hips pushed against hips, movement drove against gyrating movement.

Still neither shifted their gaze; neither one spoke.

Motion met motion as she strained against him and she knew this, their first time, would be quick, if sweet. She had wanted him too long.

And he? She knew he barely held back, and with a shuddering sigh, Julia tripped over, the edge, Neeheeowee following her at the same moment.

They strained, they groaned, they held on to one another, dark eyes meeting those of hazel, until with one final thrust of pleasure, it was over, panting breaths and racing hearts the only accompaniment to their joy.

They stared at one another, both breathing heavily until, with a tinge of mischief in his eyes, Neeheeowee grinned, pushing himself forward until Julia’s back met the ground.

He laughed then, the sound more than a little musical to her ears as he rolled over on top of her.

But Julia pushed him over, coming up on top of him, meeting him grin for grin. And then it happened, he rolled her over, himself on top, then her, then him; both of them laughing, the sound of their joy carrying on the wind as sweetly as that of any melodic song of a lark.

And as Neeheeowee came up on top of her, his smile disappeared into a look of raw hunger as he once more took her lips with his own.

And passion flared between them again, although they were to be forgiven.

Truly they had endured much. The time to enjoy one another had at last come to fruition.

And Maheoo smiled kindly upon them this day, for no enemy met them, no enemy found them. No, the world this day was a very happy one.

The sound of their laughter echoed over the golden, sun-drenched hills of the plains.