Savage Tempest (14 page)

“You are so kind . . . to . . . do this for me,” she
said softly. “Any other woman of the village could have done it.”

“You are in my son's lodge. It is my responsibility to care for anyone who shares it with him,” Blanket Woman said, smoothing Joylynn's perspiration-dampened hair back from her face. “Even you, a woman I had not ever thought to be kind to. But I do not like seeing anyone suffer. I am happy to have helped you.”

Joylynn started to thank Blanket Woman, but was stopped when Two Stars came back inside the lodge, High Hawk with him.

High Hawk knelt on the far side of Joylynn, while his mother and Two Stars knelt on her other.

Two Stars brought a wooden cup of what looked like broth up to Joylynn's lips. “Drink,” he said. “This will make you rest and sleep.”

Welcoming the very thought of escaping a world that had cheated her of a child she now knew she could never have given up, Joylynn smiled and took the cup. She drank the sweet liquid from it.

She didn't dare ask what it was made of. She would just welcome the sleep it brought and hope that when she awakened, things would be better for her.

She was glad of one thing . . . that Blanket Woman seemed to feel differently about her. She might even be a friend now, not a foe.

“I will leave you alone now,” Blanket Woman said, nodding over at High Hawk as a silent way to
say that he should leave, too, but High Hawk ignored her and continued to sit there as Blanket Woman left with Two Stars.

Joylynn was already feeling groggy from whatever had been in the sweet drink. She gazed up at High Hawk, so glad when he bent low and brushed a soft kiss across her lips.

But the words he murmured next puzzled her, and her eyes widened.

“You may leave the village as soon as you feel like traveling,” High Hawk said thickly. “You are no longer anyone's captive. My father wished your capture, not I. I am now chief, and I am not someone who wants white captives, especially not a woman like you who seems to love her freedom so much.”

He then explained to her why he had abducted her in the first place, that he had done it for his
ahte
.

Joylynn fought sleep now; she wanted to stay awake a while longer, while High Hawk was there. He was so close she could smell the sweet freshness of his skin.

“Do you understand now why I took you from your home?” High Hawk asked.

“I believe so,” Joylynn said. “And I am so glad that it was not because you hate white women enough to take one captive.”

“I normally do not have any feelings for white women,” High Hawk said, taking her hand and gently holding it. “Not until you.”

“Are you saying that you have . . . special . . . feelings for me?” Joylynn murmured, already knowing that he did.

It was in his every gesture, word and gaze.

“I have from the beginning,” High Hawk said, slowly nodding. “When I first saw you, I knew that destiny had brought me to you, not my father. I have loved you from the moment our eyes met.”

“You love me that much?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“
Ho
, that much,” he said fervently.

“And I feel the same about you, High Hawk. I do not want to leave you or your village, ever,” Joylynn said. She was feeling so sleepy, she could hardly keep her thoughts straight, yet she knew enough to understand that everything transpiring between them was good.

“Surely it is the drug my shaman gave you that causes you to say such things to me,” he said. His heart was pounding hard at the possibility that she truly had meant her words.

“No,” she murmured. “It is not the drug. I have spoken from my heart. I am oh, so very weary of living alone . . . of hiding, which I was doing because of the child I was carrying.”

“You do not ever have to hide again from anyone. Nor do you have to live alone,” he said. “If you truly wish to stay among my people, they will welcome you here.”

“It is not your people who make me want to
stay,” she said, smiling slowly at him. “It is you. Do you not believe me when I say I love you?”

Suddenly she couldn't fight off sleep any longer.

She wasn't even aware of him placing his arms beneath her and taking her from the blankets to hold her on his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her and gazed down at her loveliness.

He prayed it was not the medicine she had been given that had caused her confession of love.

He would wait until she was herself again and then see if she still wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Joylynn was sitting beside the lodge fire, slowly brushing her hair. She gazed into the dancing flames, smiling, for she had finally regained her full strength after losing the child.

She had thought she would bounce back quickly, because she had never had trouble regaining her strength after being ill.

But it was now four weeks since the miscarriage and only now was she feeling like her old self again. In fact, she wanted to join the search parties that went out almost daily as the hunt for Mole continued.

During her recuperation, Joylynn had not been able to help the women as they harvested the crops, picking everything in the huge garden and storing the crops in cache pits.

She felt guilty about not having helped when she
knew how hard a task it had been, especially for someone of Blanket Woman's age.

The guilt came because Joylynn now felt she was a part of these people's lives. She hoped to be the wife of their chief, and soon would be using the stored food herself, once she began cooking for High Hawk.

That thought made her grimace a little, for she had only recently learned how to cook after hiding herself from humanity.

She doubted that she was even close to being the sort of cook a powerful chief would want as his wife.

But she did not doubt for a minute that Blanket Woman would take it upon herself to be sure her younger son had healthy meals, for she coddled both her children.

And now Blanket Woman would have more time for coddling them since she no longer had a husband to feed and clothe.

Chief Rising Moon was missed by everyone but Joylynn. She had never known him. But she knew both his sons, loving one herself, and she had thought of Sleeping Wolf often during her recuperation. She knew he was fighting his own battle to regain what strength and pride he'd had before his fall.

Thus far, he had not left his tepee. His mother had joined the women harvesting crops by day, and
then sat vigil at her older son's bedside each night. Two Stars sat with him through the day.

Joylynn believed that such continued attention from his mother and the shaman only made Sleeping Wolf feel less a man. She truly believed that the more everyone coddled him, the more he felt the despair of his condition.

Joylynn had wanted to go and talk with him, but when she even hinted at doing this, Blanket Woman scolded her and told her to stay away from her older son. Was it not enough that she had put a spell on her other son? she demanded.

Her hair finally brushed, Joylynn began twisting it in one long braid down her back. She had noticed that many Pawnee women wore their hair in that style. Wanting to be accepted by them, she wore her hair in the same way and continued to wear the lovely soft doeskin dresses that several women had been kind enough to give to her. Joylynn knew that their young chief had hinted that they help her however they could. And because they admired and loved Chief High Hawk so much, it had not taken much encouragement to prompt them to do as he asked.

Hearing someone entering the tepee, Joylynn turned her head.

When she saw Blanket Woman carrying in a tray of food, she had mixed feelings.

Sometimes Blanket Woman was kind to her,
even sweet, while at other times she was tight-lipped and reserved. Some days she came and went without even a word being spoken between Joylynn and the mother of the man Joylynn would forever love.

“How is Sleeping Wolf today?” Joylynn asked, even though she knew that Blanket Woman resented Joylynn's mere mention of her elder son.

Blanket Woman placed the wooden platter of assorted foods beside Joylynn, then sat down next to her. She nodded toward the food. “Eat,” she said, plucking up a handful of berries herself and eating them quietly, one at a time.

Accustomed to this woman's uneven temperament, Joylynn shrugged. “All right, don't tell me,” she murmured. “But thank you anyway for bringing me breakfast.”

Blanket Woman picked up a tiny slice of venison, nodded and continued to eat in silence.

“My son Sleeping Wolf is well enough in one way,” she said suddenly. Joylynn was so surprised, she almost choked on a berry as it slid suddenly down her throat without her chewing it.

Blanket Woman glanced at Joylynn. “But weaker in the other,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?” Joylynn asked.

“It is in Sleeping Wolf's head and heart that his weakness lies,” Blanket Woman said, her faded old eyes revealing the grief she still felt at the loss
of her husband. “He cannot forget his humiliation. He desperately wanted to find the criminal who killed his father.”

“I'm so sorry,” Joylynn said, understanding now what Blanket Woman meant about Sleeping Wolf. Joylynn had seen so much in Sleeping Wolf's eyes the few times she met him. There was such despair in their depths.

“I fear so for him,” Blanket Woman said, her voice breaking with emotion. “For he seems to carry such a weight on his shoulders. He seems to carry a greater burden than his brother, who is now responsible for our people's welfare.”

“I so wish that things could be different for Sleeping Wolf. From the little I know of him, I can tell what a loving person he is,” Joylynn said, fearing that she was treading on shaky ground, saying so much about the son Blanket Woman protected with her very being.

When Blanket Woman only gave her a sideways glance, then continued to eat from Joylynn's plate, Joylynn knew it was time to talk of something else.

She felt safe enough mentioning the other brother, for by now Blanket Woman knew that there was nothing she could do to come between Joylynn and High Hawk.

Nothing!

“When do you expect High Hawk to return home?” Joylynn asked softly. “I am anxious to tell
him I feel strong enough to ride again. I want to go with him on the next search, if he hasn't found Mole's hideout yet.”

“High Hawk left at daybreak,” Blanket Woman said, her voice drawn. “He will search again today as long as there is light to see. He cannot seem to rest until he finds and stops that man who killed not only his father, but many beloved warriors of our band.”

Blanket Woman then turned to Joylynn. “And you are not strong enough to ride a horse. Must you always be reminded that you are a woman, not a man?” she said gruffly. “You must do as women do, not men, and no woman accompanies the warriors on search parties.”

“I might be a woman, but I have the same hate and need for vengeance as does your son,” Joylynn said, trying to control her irritation at the woman who still tried to make her feel useless. “I know now, though, that today I have no choice but to wait. I have no idea where High Hawk has gone.”

Blanket Woman gave her an annoyed stare, then emitted a low “Harrumph,” rose, and left without another word.

The day turned out to be a long and boring one for Joylynn. The women did not yet include her in any of their daily activities; they still did not think she was strong enough to help them.

Joylynn had taken a walk down by the river,
stopping to run her fingers through the sand as she watched fish jumping from the water, then falling into it again.

She was reminded of those times she had fished with her father, how at first she was squeamish about putting a worm on the hook.

But once she got past that, she had caught as many fish as her father, never forgetting the perplexed look on his face the first time she pulled an eight-pound bass from their pond.

Ah, that fish had tasted good that night along with corn on the cob, her mother's canned green beans, and sliced tomatoes fresh from their garden.

“That was so long ago,” Joylynn whispered as she sat beside the lodge fire. She gazed up through the smoke hole and saw the orange glow of sunset as the day waned.

The sound of horses arriving outside made Joylynn's heart skip a beat. “High Hawk,” she whispered, relieved that he had returned home.

“I hope it is he,” she whispered, jumping to her feet.

Breathing hard, her hair loose and long down her back, she ran outside barefoot just as High Hawk came into sight with several of his warriors.

When he saw her standing there, the sunset casting dancing shadows on her, he smiled and waved, then rode up to her and dismounted.

The smile had given her some hope that perhaps he had found the scoundrel, but soon she knew
that the smile was meant only for her and conveyed how happy he was to see her.

High Hawk swept Joylynn into his arms and hugged her as a young brave came and took his horse's reins, then led it to the corral.

“Did you . . . ?” she asked, not finishing the question, for he was already answering it.

“He still eludes our search,” High Hawk said, his smile fading. “But he cannot hide forever. One day,
ho
, one day he will be mine!”

“And mine,” Joylynn said, reminding him that she wanted a role in Mole's comeuppance.

“
Ho
, and yours,” High Hawk said, sliding an arm around her waist and walking with her into the tepee.

Joylynn stepped away from him and gazed into his eyes. “High Hawk, I am strong enough now to ride my horse,” she said. “I want to ride with you the next time you leave to continue your search. Please let me go with you. Please?”

“No woman should do this,” he said, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. “And I have never seen anyone more womanly than you.”