Wolf Shadow’s Promise (15 page)

“It has been the way of the people since that time to honor our women and to uphold and protect their place in our society. And as you know, we have flourished, at least until recently.”

Alys sat for a moment in silence before whispering, “That's a beautiful story.”

“
Aa
, yes, so it is. So now you know that it is the woman who nurtures the zest and the very life of our people. While a man may fight and die, so long as our women are
strong, so long as they live and are allowed to create the art and beauty that is naturally theirs, our people will grow and thrive. For theirs is the life-blood of our people, our very heart.” He finished in silence.

A long moment followed. “That is a very beautiful way of putting it.” She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

He nodded, then held the pipe out to her again. This time she took it, bringing it to her lips. Hesitatingly, she drew in the smoke and sent him a speculative gaze, seemingly all right for a moment. But her composure couldn't last. All at once, a look of pure revulsion crossed her face, then a fit of coughing.

He merely observed her calmly, commenting, “You have not smoked before.”

She shook her head, one hand going to her throat, the other offering the pipe back to him.

He nodded and, taking the object into his hands, balanced the stem of it over his legs. He said, “Know that the smoke from the pipe is sacred. It calls upon the ancient ones above us to take part in our council. Know that whatever we say here must be the truth. Do you agree?”

She nodded acceptance.

He didn't speak at once, but having started, he spoke slowly and deliberately. “It is hard for me to think well of the white man and so, as you have pointed out, maybe that makes me prejudiced. I see that he takes our land by treachery, I see that he sells my people into slavery for the mere price of a drink, and I see that he degrades our women in ways foreign to an Indian mind. You ask me if I am prejudiced. I will tell you true that I have not seen much about him that is good.” He looked at her, passing the pipe back to her.

She accepted the sacred item into her hands, carefully avoiding inhaling any more smoke. Observing him, she held it in the same manner as he, and only then did she
begin. “I understand what you say. But there are other people, other whites, that are not like these people here in the fort. Besides, I am white. If you would hate all whites, would that not extend to me, too?”

She gave him back the pipe.

His look swept over her slim body before he responded, “You are white in flesh alone. Your heart is Indian.”

She sighed. “Take a good look, Moon Wolf. I am not Indian.”

He gave her a stern look before at last capitulating, saying, “It is true.”

“There are many white people who would be ashamed if they knew what is happening here to the Indians,” she continued. “I am not alone in my way of thinking. But most of these people live far from here, to the east. They are not people you are likely to encounter in the west.” She glanced over to him.

“Why do they not come here and stop their own brothers, then, these other white men, if these people truly do not approve?”

She shrugged. “Most cannot make the journey here. They have their own work, their own families to attend to. It is not an inexpensive thing to do—to make this trip. Besides, just as the red man wars with his own kind, so, too, does the white man argue with his brothers.”

He nodded.

“Most people have to trust our government to do the right thing.”

“Humph!” he sneered. “The white man's government. Is this the same power that tries to put the Indian on reservations, that takes away his freedom, that sells him cheap whiskey and spoiled food?”

She caught her breath, the hatred in his words so distinct. Of course, it was easy to empathize with his concern, and he did have justification for the way he felt. Still…
“I understand, Moon Wolf,” she said sincerely, “but tell me true. Are all Indians honest and just? Can you tell me that there is no Indian any place that has never committed a wrong to you or to your family?”

He remained silent.

“Do not do it, Moon Wolf. Do not, yourself, become as prejudiced and as hateful as some of the white men here in this fort. Because if you do,” she proffered, her voice soft, “you will have learned too well the wrong lesson. You will have begun to hate. And when that happens, well, they couldn't have done a better job on you than if they'd painted you white and plucked the feathers from your head, because you will have become just like them.”

He signed acquiescence. “What you say is good, but it is innocent, too; you have been gone from here for a long time. Hear me, my wife, no amount of talk will bring back the dead, nor put an end to the injustices being done to my people. I cannot abide by it. And I will never stop my resistance until these wrongs no longer fill our land.”

She tilted her head toward him and frowned. “But do you need to hate all white men in order to have your triumph?”

“You do not know all of the injustices done to my people.”

“No, I don't.”

“Humph. If you did know of these things, you might not ask me these questions.”

She sighed. “You are right. But you must also know I speak the truth, too. Once you begin to hate, you have become just like the white man. Is that what you want?”

“Humph,” was again his reply. He folded his arms over his chest. “I will think on it. That is what I will do. I will think. And now, I have spoken…”

S
itting up a little straighter, Moon Wolf took hold of his pipe and flicked the ashes onto the floor, signalling with his hands for her to take note of what he did. “Do you see what I do here?”

“Yes.”

“This is how a council should end. When the ashes are discarded, the evening is finished and one's friends go home. And so it is with ours, too. Our talk is finished.”

“Good,” she said, “except that…” She stopped and cast a look around the caves, at their familiarity, hoping these walls might give her courage.

He gave her a level look.

“There is one other thing that I would ask you.”

He nodded, but otherwise remained silent.

She cleared her throat and sent up a silent prayer before she began, “I would know…” Her voice cracked. “I would have you teach me, please…the…ah…” She stared down at the floor, up, then glanced all around. “The best ways to…to…”

He examined her curiously, patiently waiting.

“To please a man,” she finished in one quick sentence, casting her eyes down at the same time. She held her breath, more than a little mortified at herself. But she had to know.

He, on the other hand, became even more serious, a shrouded mask stealing down over his features, effectively concealing his thoughts. He frowned at her as he asked, “You do not know how to do this already?”

She shook her head.

He sighed, deeply; very, very deeply. At length, he asked, “Do not the women in your culture prepare you for these things?”

“No, it is not something one discusses at all, except with one's…husband.”

“Humph! Then it is good that you have asked me.”

She waited.

“But I will not, I cannot speak of it.”

“Why not?”

He paused, his silence meant to be her answer. At length, however, he said, “You are making this very difficult for me.”

“Making what difficult for you?”

He groaned, his eyes begging her for understanding. “You ask me to do something that I cannot do,” he said. “You ask me to discuss something that will only end in one way. I do not want to hurt you.”

“But it seems to me that if you don't do this, then you will be hurting me.”

“
Haiya!
” He groaned. “No harm will come to you at all. Why are you so persistent about this?”

“Because…” Why was she? She sat back, momentarily baffled. “Because,” she began again, “I fear that if I don't,
I
will hurt you.”

He raised his chin, the look in his eyes showing her that
he clearly disagreed with her. He said, “I assure you that no harm will come to me.”

“And I am afraid,” she went on as though he hadn't spoken, “that if I let this pass, a barrier will be erected between us that will be harder and harder to break down. So I am asking this of you. Please, Moon Wolf, you are my husband. Teach me.”

He groaned, a very masculine, seductive sound. She could even feel the heat of his gaze as he glanced at her. He commented, “You must not speak to me in this way. Do you have any idea the kind of effect this has on me? Do you tease me?”

If only she were. She didn't answer, just stared at him, her own eyes drinking in the sensuality of him.

He shifted. “We should not again indulge ourselves in the weaknesses of the flesh.” But even as he spoke, she could feel him relenting.

He shifted his weight until, looking decidedly uncomfortable, he stared off, away from her.

“Moon Wolf,” she touched his arm, “I need to know how to please you. I fear that I did not do that very well during our first time together.”

He brought his gaze back to her, the tortured look in his stare so intent that she thought she might burn up under the heat of it. Up and down her face his eyes wandered, down further still, to her bosom, until all at once, he uttered, the words sounding as though they were torn from his throat, “You say these things to me and I fear you would test the last of my reserve. I should keep my distance from you, should set you free. Yet, even as I know this, even as I think it and say it, look at me and what I do. I am as unable to keep from touching you as I am to keep myself from breathing.”

As though to prove it, he drew her to him, his touch firm and insistent as he pulled her over his lap and into
his embrace. “You must tell me to stop,” he muttered, but his lips came down on hers in a kiss that shook her to the tips of her toes. “Tell me now,” he pleaded again, but she could not have spoken at this moment had she wished to do so. And she did not so desire.

Her stomach dropped, twisted, and she buried her face in his neck, content for the moment. For she sensed, no matter his obvious frustration with himself, he complimented her, and she responded with every bit of femininity she had. In truth, she arched herself further into his embrace.

“
Aa
, you are innocent, much too innocent. And I should let you go free.”

“Yet we are married,” she commented. “You have every right to—”

“Sh-h-h. Do not tell me these things.”

“But if we are married…”

A deep groan escaped him, the sound pure seduction. “The fault is mine.”

“What fault?”

He straightened his spine, jerking his head to the left before he answered, “Just because we are married does not mean our problems no longer exist. All that I have told you is still true. We might be married, might love one another more than any other two people alive, but the dilemma of where we will live, where we will raise our children—if I live—still remain.”

“But—”

“Yet, even as I know this,” he continued, “I cannot stop touching you.” He shoved up her top as he spoke, his fingers spreading over her breasts.

“Moon Wolf, you must know that I want this as much as you.”

He nodded. “
Aa
, I know. And that knowledge is my enemy, I think. I am the one who is supposed to be com
posed, the one able to think no matter the strength of our passion. Yet, do you know how easy it would be for me to…”

A soft whimper left her lips, followed by a hoarse growl from him. She uttered, “Please.”

Perhaps it was her voice that proved to be his undoing, maybe her plea; suddenly he tumbled her back onto his blanketed bed, pulling her shirt off with ease, up and over her head. She reached out toward him, tugging on his pants.

But his stomach muscles contracted to hold her hands in place. His pants remained where they were, at least for the moment.

She whimpered, “Don't you want me to love you?”

He made a sound that was half desire, half frustration. “You must know that I have wanted to make love to you since the first moment I saw you again.”

“From the very first moment?”

“
Aa
, from then.”

“Then I don't understand.”

He threw back his head and gave her a look, his eyes piercing hers with a hunger that shattered her self-control. Surely, he must want her as she wanted him. Surely.

He said, “I cannot have you. Please try to understand, if I touch you in the way of passion, I would ruin you for any other man.”

That statement gave her pause. “What did you say?”

He drew a deep breath. “You came here into my life, knowing that my life could end at any time.”

“As could anyone's.”

“But look at the difference. Look at what I have chosen to do with my life. Since it could end in an instant, I would ensure that you would be cared for when I am gone.”

“But, Moon Wolf, you are not gone.”

“That does not matter. My life could end tomorrow.”

“Mine could, too. I don't think you are being sensible about this thing. Another man is not the answer.”

“It is the only way…if I am gone. Surely you can understand this.”

She turned around until she faced him, coming up at the same time onto her knees, unembarrassed by the fullness of her breasts, extended out toward him, within his reach.

She said, “No, I don't understand. I don't want anyone else. And I might never want anyone else.”

“But I must secure your future.”

“Fine.” She inched forward until her breasts were a mere hairsbreadth away from him. She could almost feel the nervousness within him. She commented, “I think you are thinking so much in the future, that you forget that there is a great deal of pleasure in the present.”

“I do not forget,” he said, even while he began a light massage upon her, the action sending tiny flickers of sensation coursing though her. She curled herself into his arms.

He moaned, “I do not need this right now.”

“Yet we are joined as husband and wife.”

He groaned and threw back his head. “All right,” he said, “I will make love to you. Still, you must understand that I will not make love to you in a way that could get you with child.”

“Fine,” she responded, arching her back into him invitingly. She asked, “Even if I desire it?”

“Even then. You are still innocent, you are not looking at the far-reaching consequences of this, I think.”

She decided not to reason with him; he appeared to be beyond all that. Instead, glancing up at him, she pleaded, “Please, this is something that a husband and wife should experience together.”

But he ignored her as though she hadn't spoken, going on to say, “You deserve a man who will love you all your
life, one who will treasure you and take care of you and be there for you every morning and every evening that you should live. This is what you should have. Not one who can promise you no tomorrow.”

With her back still arched so enticingly, she placed her hands on his stomach, letting them slide down to his trousers. “Who said I want all those promises? And who are you to protect me?”

“I should be like a brother to you more than a husband,” he responded. “In that way I can look out for you and take care of you.”

She backed up slightly. “A brother? Moon Wolf, are you trying to tell me that you care for me only in the way of…a sister?”

He winced. “Perhaps a brother was not the right comparison. Maybe I should have said—”

She didn't wait for him to finish. “If that is true, then did you only marry me because of your sense of responsibility for me?”

“
Saa
, no. We have been through this before. I only said brother because it is how I
should
feel, not how I
do
feel.”

However, Alys could not be so easily comforted. “But you said—”

“Enough!” A growl sounded deep in his throat, and though he might have been hesitant at first, he did not fail to pull her in close to him. That he also rose up onto his knees before her, letting her feel the entire length of his masculinity, gave her some comfort.

Still…

She sighed while he began to shower her with kiss after kiss, one hand rubbing over the rosy tips of her breasts, the other pulling her in toward him. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her throat, whispering, when he could at last come up for breath, “Does this look to you to be the offerings
of a man who feels the same kind of affection that he might for a sister?”

“But Moon Wolf, I would know if you—”

“Sh-h-h.” He drew her even closer, if that was possible, knee to knee, chest to chest, the exotic feel of his desire engraved upon her. Again, she tugged on his trousers. But he didn't pay her any attention. Leaving off, he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. “Know that I care for you,” he murmured, “have always done so from the first moment that you saved me and my sister. It was a bad likeness, that is all. I do not think of you as a sister. I never have. That was my point. Now, no more of this talk.” His lips sought out hers again, raining kiss after kiss upon her—her cheeks, her neck, her breasts.

And she moaned, caught up in the marvel of him. She was his, he was hers, and it didn't matter if she had a marriage certificate to prove it.

Reaching out, she tugged on those trousers, unbuttoning them at last, managing to pull them down until the full length of him fell against her. Her knees went weak without her being consciously aware of it. He held on to her.

She whispered, “You are big, my husband. But you will show me how this is done?”

He sighed against her mouth. “I will teach you, someday.”

“And will you fit, I wonder?”

“Your body has been made for this. But enough of this. I will not plant my—”

“Oh, Moon Wolf,” she cried, unwilling to let him finish, “teach me well.” And as the incredible intoxication of him engulfed her, she came to a realization: she would hold on to this man, no matter what the future held.

It didn't matter what he said; it didn't matter that he tried so gallantly to save her from himself. His actions
alone spoke more readily than any words could have. He wanted her, too.

What she was doing was good, she thought. So very, very good. And as she surrendered herself to him, letting the warmth of their mutual fervor wash over her, she vowed that she would make this man change his mind.

Alys was no fool. She knew the treasure that she held.

He might try to walk away from her after this—for her own good, as he put it—but she would never let him go. Not ever. He had said he was committed to her.

She aimed to keep it that way.