Wild Splendor (11 page)

“Yes, each one is a little different. Our homes are called
hogans,
” Sage explained. “And we believe they are a gift from the gods, a place for the Navaho to take shelter, to eat and sleep and pray. We build them of mud and logs in a round shape to honor Father Sun, and the door always faces east to greet him first thing in the morning.”

Trevor tripped and fell to the ground. Sage just as quickly leaned down and swept him up into his arms, carrying him as people parted to make a path for them.

Sensing Leonida's uneasiness, Sage continued talking softly to her to steady her nerves. “After we finish making a new hogan, we conduct a Blessing Way ceremony, asking all the spirits to make it a happy place. But if it is struck by lightning, we consider it cursed and abandon it. I think you will find the thick walls of my hogan keep it warm in winter and cool in summer.”

Leonida's eyes widened when Sage grabbed her hand and stopped her. “This dwelling is Sage's,” he said, nodding toward one of the largest hogans. “We will go inside. You will acquaint yourself with your new way of living. Later you will become acquainted with my people.”

Glad to be given the opportunity to get away from the staring eyes of the Navaho people, Leonida willingly moved toward the small opening in the hogan that was the door. She went inside with Sage, surprised to find that the hogan was adequate in size, with two rooms leading off from the main one.

Once inside, she found that the light filtered in mainly from the smoke hole in the center of the domed roof overhead, and there was a fire that was burning brightly near the center of the room, where a round pit was edged with stones.

Quickly she took in the scene. On the walls were hung blankets, saddles and an anvil as well as other tools.

“When you being to cook here, there will be kitchen utensils around the fire,” Sage explained. “And perhaps you will have a loom as well.”

By the fire, Leonida noticed a hearth brush made of yucca leaves. It was tied in the middle, with the blunt sides all at one end, the spiky ones at the other. The stiff butt ends served as a broom to sweep the hearth and floor; the spiky ends made a hairbrush.

The hogan was neat and cozy, the adobe walls and clay floors clean, smelling pleasantly of the sweet aroma of the yucca leaf.

“It is to your liking?” Sage said. Trevor too was at her side, clinging to her skirt as he gazed slowly around at what was most strange to him.

“I think it's lovely,” Leonida murmured, turning a smiling face to him. “Although I have been lucky to live with luxuries, since my father was a wealthy cavalry officer, I find this home much more suitable than most settlers' homes that I've seen.”

She spun around and clasped her fingers together before her. “And it's so clean,” she sighed. She eyed a thick cushion of blankets spread out before the fire. Her weary bones ached to go and sit down on them, but this thought was brushed aside when a familiar voice spoke up behind her.

“Sage, you bring white woman and child into your hogan?” Pure Blossom said as she stepped in. Then her lips parted in a gasp when she recognized Leonida. “It is you?”

Puzzled, Pure Blossom turned back to her brother, the hump in her back twisting strangely as she peered up into his eyes. “There are others outside,” she murmured. “What have you done, Sage? Are these people your captives? Are they? Is Leonida?”

She turned questioningly to Trevor. “Is this your son, Leonida?” she murmured. “I thought the blanket I was weaving for you was for a wedding. And you already have a son? I do not understand.”

Leonida took Trevor's hand and urged him toward Pure Blossom. “This is Trevor,” she said softly. “Trevor's mother is dead. I am going to raise him now, as though he were my own.”

Leonida gave Trevor a gentle shove, pushing him closer to Pure Blossom, realizing that his hesitation stemmed from her deformity, a difference that made her outwardly ugly.

Pure Blossom's smile faded when she saw the fear in Trevor's eyes. Yet she was glad that it was not disgust as he stared at the hump on her back. “Pure Blossom glad to know you,” she said, offering a frail hand.

Trevor bolted behind Leonida, then slowly peered around her with wide, wondering eyes.

Trying to hide the pain that his response inflicted, Pure Blossom went to Leonida and gave her a gentle hug. “My brother has not told me the reasons you and others are here, but I welcome you,” she said softly.

She eased from Leonida's arms and turned back to Sage. “Is she captive?” she asked, this time more determined.

“No, she is not a captive now, nor has she ever been,” Sage said. “But the others? Yes, they are the prisoners of the Navaho. For now they are captives. Soon they will be freed. Until then, Pure Blossom, go to the women of our village and ask them to share their blankets, food, and drinking water with the women and children. Tell the young braves to build lean-tos for the captives so they can be comfortable while they are forced to live away from their loved ones. They will become as one with our people while they are in the village of the Navaho.”

Pure Blossom nodded and left, after giving Leonida a quick smile over her shoulder.

Touched by his concern for the other women and children, Leonida went to Sage and twined her arms around his neck. “
Uke-he,
thank you,” she murmured.

Trevor came to them and nudged them apart, his little arms reaching up to Leonida for her to pick him up. Leonida laughed softly and swept him up into her arms. Sage watched for a moment, then swallowed them both in his arms.

“I did not intend to find a family to bring home to my hogan when I planned the ambush on the stagecoach,” he said, smiling from Leonida to Trevor. “But it seems destiny made it so.”

He stepped away from them and Leonida saw a sudden sadness as he leaned down to stare into the slow burning flames of the fire. She put Trevor on the floor and leaned down on her knees beside Sage. “What is it?” she asked, placing a hand on his cheek. “What are you thinking about that pains you so?”

“The mention of family,” Sage said thickly, gazing slowly over at her. “Pure Blossom is all that is left of Sage's family. Our parents died long ago in an attack by renegades when our village was elsewhere, away from these mountains. It will be good to fill my hogan with family again. Pure Blossom prefers to live alone, where she can fill her own hogan with her looms and what is required to make her fancy blankets.”

Trevor scooted onto Sage's lap and wrapped his small arm around Sage's neck. “Can I call you daddy?” Trevor asked, snuggling close.

Neither Sage nor Leonida had expected Trevor's quick acceptance. They exchanged glances and then Sage said, “Yes, my son, it would please me to be called father.” One of his arms reached out for Leonida and brought her close. “Here is a child who has been given to us,” he said. “Let us, together, bring him to manhood.”

Leonida's eyes misted with deep emotion as Sage pressed his lips to hers, ever so gently, yet with much, much meaning.

Chapter 13

Before I trust my fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine,
Question thy soul tonight for me.

—A
DELAIDE
A
NNE
P
ROCTER

 

 

The light was soft in the bedroom from the shimmering shadows of the fire in the outer, larger room. Leonida knelt beside a narrow platform, where Trevor now slept peacefully on thick, soft pelts, after she had sung him to sleep with sweet lullabys.

Sage had stayed at Leonida's side until Trevor had been almost asleep, and then he had joined the other Navaho warriors and elders to have council beside a roaring fire outside.

Before Trevor had gotten too drowsy with sleep, Sage had told him that soon Trevor's bow and arrows and other objects that were important to the making of a young brave would be there with him in his room.

“Have dreams of angels, my little brave,” Leonida whispered as she smoothed a colorful blanket up to Trevor's chin.

She ran her fingers through his raven hair, choked up with feelings that already grew within her heart, then kissed his brow. “I'm going to do my best, Trevor, to make life good for you,” she whispered as she rose slowly to her feet. She stood a moment longer looking down at the small, trusting child. “But I can never take the place of your mother. I know that.”

Not wanting to get caught up in thoughts of Carole's death, Leonida spun around and left the room. She turned and stared at the room that Sage had said would be theirs. Trevor slept in the room that had once been Pure Blossom's.

She had been amazed to find a hogan with three rooms, yet she suspected that most important Navaho leaders had the same. Wondering about the room where the man she loved slept, she crept into it and stopped to stare down at the sleeping platform, much larger than in the other room. It was piled even higher with thick pelts.

Her heart seemed to skip a beat when she spotted the distinct impression of Sage's body outlined in the pelts, where it had been pressed while he had last slept there. Her pulse racing, Leonida went to the sleeping platform and gently lay down on the very spot where her beloved had been. Strangely, she did not feel like an intruder. It was as though she truly belonged, had been there before in bed with him, sharing a wild splendor with him.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned Sage there with her now, feeling his hands on her breasts, warming them as he rolled his fingers over her nipples.

She did not have to concentrate hard to feel the passion of his kiss.

She felt the warmth of his embrace.

When she heard soft voices coming from the outer room, Leonida was jolted back to reality. Her face red with embarrassment over where her thoughts had taken her, Leonida sprang from the bed and walked cautiously to the outer room, then stopped, in awe of what she found.

Running her fingers through her hair, straightening it, she smiled awkwardly at two young braves who were pouring water into a copper tub they had brought for her.

“White woman take bath,” one of the youngsters said, smiling toothlessly up at Leonida, new teeth just barely showing at the base of his gums.

“Why, thank you,” Leonida said, dropping her hands to her sides. She leaned closer, questioning with her eyes the suds that were floating on the water.

“Yucca,” one of the braves said, as though having read her thoughts. “Suds from the yucca plant. It will make your hair and skin smell sweet and feel soft.”

“How nice,” Leonida said, smiling at the young man.

Then her eyes widened when a young maiden brought a lovely red velveteen skirt and a cotton blouse designed with stripes and zigzags into the hogan and laid them at her feet. She fled from the hogan without a glance up at Leonida.

“Sage,” one of the young braves said. “The water and clothes are gifts from Sage.”

Leonida blushed as the two boys smiled knowingly at her. These boys seemed to know that she was more to Sage than a mere stranger sharing his hogan and bed, she thought to herself. She wondered just how much he
had
told them, for the two youngsters giggled and whispered to each other as they made a quick exit, leaving her standing over the tub, staring blankly after them.

But the lure of the sudsy water, and the temptation of the fresh, clean clothes soon caused her to forget everything else. Finally a true bath again.

Hastily shedding her clothes, Leonida stepped gingerly into the tub and found it comfortably warm, surprised that those who had prepared the water for her had been thoughtful enough to warm it over the outdoor fire.

Sinking lower into the water, resting her head against the rounded edges of the tub, she sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the water and the soft suds against her flesh before actually bathing. No bath water had ever felt as good. Not even the water back at the fort into which she had poured full bottles of bubble bath.

This water seemed to mysteriously relax her tired and aching bones. The suds were making her skin so soft. Her hands slid effortlessly over her arms as she washed herself with them, and along the swells of her breasts.

Her skin now clean and satiny soft, she lowered her hair into the water and gave it a scrubbing.

Completely relaxed, and feeling sparkling clean, Leonida climbed from the water. Dripping wet, she looked around for a towel. Finding none, she backed close to the fire and began turning slowly around, letting the heat dry her.

Afterward, she lay on the mats beside the fire, not feeling it necessary to get dressed yet. Trevor was sound asleep. Sage was still in council. She was enjoying lying beside the fire, her hair spread out, drying. Slowly her eyes drifted closed and she welcomed sleep as it came to her in gentle folds of black.

Then the sound of someone singing outside the hogan awakened her. She listened as several songs were sung by several different voices. She leaned up on an elbow with a start, recognizing the newest voice.

“Sage,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “My Lord, it's Sage.” She listened intently, marveling again at how beautifully he sang, as she had before when he had sung over Carole's grave.

Not wanting to take the time to dress but not wanting to miss seeing him as he was singing either, Leonida rose to her feet and looked around. There, a luxurious rabbit-fur blanket, woven from long strips of cottontail pelt.

Hurrying to it, she wrapped it around her shoulders, then crept outside. She stood in the shadows where no one could see her, yet she had a full view of those who were in council a few feet away, the huge bonfire lighting up their faces enough for her to find Sage among the warriors and elders.

She was finding out Sage's true devotion to his horse, perhaps
any
mighty, powerful steed of the mountains, as he sang a Navaho song about horses.

Each warrior took his turn singing about that which was most important to him. Leonida listened raptly, seeing these men as gentle, even beautiful.

Her gaze locked on Sage, loving him so much it made a slow ache burn at the center of her desire for him. She wanted to beckon him to her, yet she did nothing to disturb these moments with his companions, which seemed to have so much meaning.

The singing ceased and the warriors began eating and talking. An elderly gentleman served some of the warriors boiled mutton from a large black pot, and corn, with a chunk of tough white bread. Others were reaching into clay bowls which rested on the ground before them, for handfuls of mush made of wild seeds.

As they ate leisurely, all eyes became drawn to Sage as he began talking. Although Leonida felt as though she were intruding on their private affairs, she could not help but stay there and listen. Sage's voice always mesmerized her.

At first she listened mainly to be hearing his voice, cherishing the sound of it, as though he were talking to her, touching her heart with his words. And at first she saw nothing troublesome in what he was saying, but as he spoke with a more cold and angry tone, this coldness seemed to touch her with a warning.

Anger soon replaced all her other feelings as Sage said what seemed to be the opposite of all that he had promised her. He began ordering many sentries to their posts in the canyon. Then he chose a warrior to send word to those soldiers who were searching for their stronghold that if they wanted the women and children returned to them alive, they must return to Fort Defiance and leave Sage and his people in peace.

Otherwise, one by one, the captives would die.

Leonida covered her mouth with a hand to stifle a gasp. Sage had promised the captives that no harm would come to them. And now he was saying that they would die if Kit Carson and the other white leaders did not cooperate with his demands. She had to wonder what other lies he had told her.

She felt betrayed.

Completely drained of feeling, Leonida turned to flee back inside the hogan. As she turned, her feet got tangled in the rabbit fur blanket, causing her to fall clumsily to the ground. When she landed, she cried out with pain, then stiffened when she realized that suddenly there was silence behind her. She had been discovered.

The blanket had shifted in the fall and now lay spread over only part of her body. Leonida blushed and quickly reached for it, gathering it around her as she got slowly to her feet. When she lifted her eyes, she gasped; Sage was gazing down at her questioningly.

Leonida felt a tremor in the pit of her stomach, and not from the feelings that had forced her to flee back inside the hogan. Again her strong passion for Sage replaced all other feelings, which should make her hate him.

She fought her passion with all of her might. She gave Sage a last lingering stare of defiance, then turned and fled from him, panting hard when she found momentary refuge inside the hogan.

But it was only a brief reprieve from the confrontation that she knew she must have with Sage.

How could she even think of forgiving him? she despaired to herself.

Why did her body also betray her?

Her heart pounded like claps of thunder as he entered the hogan and came to her, his fingers brushing the rabbit fur wrap away from her.

His dark eyes burned along her flesh as his gaze raked over her. “You came to listen at the council?” he grumbled. “Why did you feel it necessary to listen to what was being said? Most women are now warming the blankets for their men. I expected no less from you.”

“Ha, I would guess not,” Leonida said, lifting her chin haughtily. She reached down and pulled the fur around her again. “Just like you expect so much more from me, like me believing the lies that you have fed me from the moment we first met. I heard what you said tonight about killing the women and children. Sage, earlier, more than once, you promised they would be set free. You promised! Everyone believed you, including me. I feel betrayed. So will the others.”

She glanced toward the room where Trevor slept so trustingly, then looked back at Sage. “And what of Trevor?” she said, her voice breaking. “Was all that you did for him pretense? Has this all been a game with you? You said that you loved me. Was that also a part of your ploy to, in the end, get what you wanted from Kit Carson and the other white leaders?”

She lowered her eyes. “I feel used,” she said, almost choking on the words.

Firm fingers closed on Leonida's shoulders, causing her to wince and look up quickly.

“Your trust in Sage is too weak,” he said, gripping her tightly, the fur blanket the only thing that saved her tender flesh from the full pressure of his fingers. “How can that be? Did you not understand that my warnings and threats were a strategy only, to get what I must to save the future of my people? It is sad that you chose to see only what you wanted to see, and to hear only what you wanted to hear. What Sage says to you, Sage means. What Sage promised the women and children, he meant! Now tell me, my woman, that you do not believe me. Tell me that you do not feel shame for doubting this man who loves you with every heartbeat.”

Tears welled up in Leonida's eyes. She was engulfed by shame, knowing that she had been wrong to doubt him. She wished that she could withdraw all that she had said to him and start anew.

Wrenching herself free from his grip, she flung herself into his arms. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, clinging tightly to him, oblivious of the fur blanket having slipped away from her body again. She closed her eyes and hugged him tightly. “Tell me you forgive me. Truly, I'm so very, very sorry for all that I said.”

His hands trembling, Sage wrapped her in his muscular arms, his fingers splayed across her bare buttocks as he drew her even closer. “There is no need for forgiveness,” he said, burying his nose into the sweet depths of her hair. “It is enough that you now accept that when Sage gives his word it is kept. I will release the children and women at my first opportunity, hopefully after Kit Carson and the other white leaders have righted everything for my Navaho people. And never fret again over their welfare. They will never be harmed at the hands of the Navaho.”

He drew his face away from her hair. “The women and children will become as one with my people while they are here,” he said, smiling softly down at her. Then he frowned. “Now you see that it is not wise to stand and listen to those who are in council. Words can be misinterpreted. It is best to leave the counciling to the men.” He glanced over at the door that led into his bedroom, then smiled slowly at Leonida. “You have not warmed my blankets. Do you not realize that the hastening hours of night in the mountains bring with them cold temperatures?”

Leonida gave him a soft, teasing smile. “Perhaps we could warm the blankets together?” she murmured, shivering sensually when he began moving one of his hands slowly over her bare flesh, stopping to cup, then knead a breast. She sucked in a wild breath of pleasure when his other hand moved across her tummy, stopping at the flowering of the golden, curly tendrils at the juncture of her thighs, slowly yet knowingly caressing her there.