Winter Moon

 

The Paha Sapa Saga, Book Two

 

 

Robin Deeter

 

Bookapy User License

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Bookapy.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Can a passionate romance survive in a land fraught with danger and turmoil?

Handsome French fur trader, Ames Duchamp, and beautiful Kiowa warrior, Willow, have been secretly engaged in a fiery, all-consuming love affair. When tragedy brings their relationship to light, can they withstand the heartache and hold onto their love or will feelings of inadequacy and pride tear their happiness to shreds?

Continue the adventure set in mid-eighteenth century North America, which is a hotbed of unrest between many Native American tribes, who are feuding over territory. Follow the exploits of our newly allied Kiowa and Lakota tribes as they settle in a new land and face danger and uncertainty.

 

 

 

Dedication

 

This book is dedicated to all you brave readers who continue to accompany me on this adventure. We still have new characters to meet, exciting events to share, and new places to explore together. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, your faith, friendship, and kindness are so very appreciated. Happy reading!

 

A Special Thank You

To my Essie, you are my rock and my biggest fan. You’re always there to cheer me on and give me a kick in the caboose when I need it. I treasure your love and loyalty and I couldn’t do this without you.

 

 

 

 

Other books by Robin Deeter

 

 

Chance City Beginnings

(Prequels to Chance City Series)

 

Part One

Part Two

 

Chance City Series

 

Mail Order Mystery

On the Fence

Crossroads

Gray Justice

When the Thunder Rolls

And the Lightning Strikes

A Very Decker Christmas

 

 

The Paha Sapa Saga

 

Sacrifice and Reward

Winter Moon

The Bear, Part One

The Bear, Part Two

The Phantom Horse Bridge Series

 

Phantom Origins Book 0

Phantom Heat

 

Wolf Junction Series

 

Silver Bell Shifter

 

 

Chapter One

 

Traveling through the snow didn’t bother Ames Duchamp at all. In fact, he loved the cold season when the drifts were deep and the world was still. There was a peace about winter that suited him perfectly. However, since it was only early October, the couple of snowstorms they’d hadn’t amounted to very much. Therefore, they’d made good time.

As he trekked southward along the Mississippi River, he was accompanied by fifteen pack dogs, three mules, and two Indian friends. Firebrand was a former Mohawk captive of the Fox Indians, whom Ames had won gambling three years prior. Ames had immediately freed him, saying that he could return home if he so desired.

However, Firebrand had stayed with Ames to repay him for giving him his freedom by helping with Ames’ fur trading business. He hadn’t been treated kindly by the Fox and he was extremely grateful to Ames for rescuing him. Firebrand’s ancestors harkened back to the mighty Susquehannock Indians, the vast majority of which had been absorbed by the Iroquois Nation almost a century earlier.

After their numbers had been greatly depleted by diseases brought by the white man, the Susquehannocks had been defeated by the Iroquois around 1676. Some of Firebrand’s relatives had kept their oral stories alive, telling him tales of their ancestors’ great battles and about their strongholds in the East.

Having been very impressed by all of this, Firebrand had decided to honor his ancestors by altering his appearance to look like them. He was a fairly large fellow and wore his hair in the old Susquehannock manner; shaved on the right side, cocks comb in the middle, and grown long on the left side.

Ames’ other friend, Panther, was a member of the Kiowa tribe that Ames now considered his family. Panther was shorter in stature, perhaps five ten or thereabouts, and wore his hair in the Kiowa style, with bangs and his hair cut short over his right ear.

At six-four, Ames was taller than either of his companions and broad with his height. His own pack weighed close to eighty pounds, yet he carried it with ease. Although he was a Frenchman by birth, there were Swedes on his mother’s side, big blond men, whom he took after physically.

Although in his heart he would always be part French, he’d become Indian, too. He’d had run-ins with many different tribes, but he got along with most of them. His father, François, had brought him and his mother to the New World, where Ames had quickly began making friends with various Indians who traded with the English, French, Dutch, and Swedes.

His father had seen nothing wrong with this, in fact, Ames’ ability to quickly learn languages had come in handy, and he’d begun taking Ames with him on his trade runs when he’d been a boy of just eleven years old. Ames had been in the fur trading business ever since, taking over for François when he’d passed on.

His mother, Marie, had remarried and moved to Boston, away from the vast wilderness that she’d never embraced. Ames had been twenty years old at the time. Marie had wanted him to go with her, but the fur trade was in his blood and the Indians were in his soul, and he wouldn’t leave either. Eight years later, here he was making his way south to spend the winter with the people he loved most in the world—and the woman who held his heart.

Although he walked silently as he led one of the mules, in his head, Ames sang a bawdy French song about a buxom, lusty tavern wench who was very generous with her attentions. Yet, he was still acutely aware of their surroundings, his companions, and their pack animals.

The surefooted mules followed easily and the dogs were largely silent as they’d been trained to be. The big, wolfish beasts trotted along, keeping their trace lines straight. Their lead and heel dogs made sure they did so. Tangled trace lines could get caught on brush or other obstacles and cause all sorts of problems.

Ames smiled as they neared his village, but when he let out his wild cat screech, there was no answering signal from the sentries. He stopped, as did Firebrand and Panther. He let out another screech, but still silence reigned in the snowy forest.

He signed, “I do not like this. There are no sentries. This is not good.”

Panther shook his head a little while Firebrand signed, “We will stay with the animals while you find out what is happening.” It would be better to have two guards with all of the animals and cargo.

Ames nodded and took off his pack, laying it beside his mule, which he tied to a sapling. He was already wearing a pistol and a quiver of arrows. He untied his bow from where it was lashed to his mule. Setting out for Chief Growling Wolf’s village, Ames moved as silently as possible, keeping a sharp eye out for any movement. Presently, he came to a spot that overlooked the camp and kept hidden as he peered through the foliage at the village. People moved about the camp, but they weren’t his people.

Ojibwa. Ames’ heart sank to his feet as he recognized their garb. Where is my family? What have you done to them? He fought back his apprehension as he remembered the hiding place and his instructions to his little friend, Moonbeam, to leave him a message if need be. Hope rose in his breast as he left the edge of the village.

He couldn’t go through the camp to the secret cave as he normally would have. Instead, he backtracked and used an alternate route to reach it. His bow at the ready, he proceeded cautiously, making sure that there were no guards posted near it.

When he was able to reach the little clearing at the mouth of the cave, Ames saw that no one had been there. The snow was too pristine, indicating that the Ojibwa hadn’t discovered the cave. Taking out his strike-a-light, he made his way into the narrow passageway, feeling his way along until he entered the large anteroom within the mountain.

Creating a series of sparks, he was able to make it to the hidden crevasse in the wall on his left side. Reaching inside it, he felt a parfleche and smiled. Ah, my little Moonbeam! What a good girl you are to have remembered. He took heart from the presence of the small package. It meant that at least some of his family still lived.

Back outside in the daylight, Ames opened the parfleche and took out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he saw a dark mountain range drawn on it, along with a note telling him that his family had gone there and that he should go to them. His heart raced with elation and he grinned as he tucked the paper back into the parfleche and stuffed it inside his thick, wolf-skin coat.

Greatly heartened, he quickly made his way back to his party.

Quietly, he said, “They have gone west, to the place of a dark mountain. We must alter our course.”

Firebrand’s eyebrows rose. “That is all the information they left? Dark mountains?”

Ames grinned. “That is all the information we need, no? We will find them.”

Panther and Firebrand nodded. Ames’ uncanny ability to find people when it seemed they’d disappeared had stood him well over the years. They had no doubt that he’d find their family.

Turning to the west, they set out at a good clip, determined to make as much progress as possible before nightfall.

 

 

The next day, they followed the route that the Kiowas most likely would have taken. They looked closely for clues left for them and were rewarded.

Mid-afternoon, Panther stopped and pointed to a tree. “Ames, look.”

Ames almost shouted with joy, but caught himself at the last minute. The loud noise could potentially alert their location to enemies who might be traveling nearby. Ames hurried over to the elm tree and traced the A on its trunk with his mitten-clad hand.

“We are on the right track, mes freres.”

Firebrand smiled at his calling him and Panther his brothers because he knew that Ames genuinely thought of himself as such.

They resumed their steady pace. Four days later, they saw the black mountain range in the distance. It took them another couple of days before they began seeing signs of civilization. They came across some footprints and a scalp hung on a nearby tree.

Panther examined it. “It is not cut in the Kiowa manner. I cannot tell which tribe it is otherwise, but it is a warning to stay away.”

Ames blue eyes took on a fierce light. “Perhaps it is a sign from our family. We will soon find out.”

They came upon the camp suddenly, a vast village that was much too large to be their family’s.

“Lakota,” Firebrand said. “They are the ones who left the scalp.”

Ames looked at the village and then up at the mountains beyond it. Although dangerous to take a chance, especially given the precious cargo they carried, Ames decided to risk approaching the Lakota. He’d had dealings with them in the past, but most likely not this particular band.

Calculating their valuables, he mentally went through what he could afford to trade and what he was reserving for their family.

Grimly, he said, “There is nothing to do but to go meet them.”

And so, they started towards the village, apprehensive about what kind of reception awaited them.

 

 

Lakota brave, Rushing Bull, stood sentry in a small stand of pine trees near the eastern edge of his village. The line of dogs, mules, and men walking across the landscape near their camp had captured his attention when they’d come over a rise and stopped. After a few moments of conferring, they’d changed direction and had started towards the camp.

Although still somewhat suspicious, he was almost certain that these were the friends that his tribe’s Kiowa kin were expecting. During their travels together and their time as neighbors, Growling Wolf’s tribe had told them much about Ames Duchamp and his friends, Firebrand and Panther.

The pack dogs and mules were a dead giveaway because most of their people didn’t travel with dogs anymore since horses were plentiful now. However, someone like Ames would still be dependent on those modes of transporting goods. Dog sleds and wagons were cumbersome in snowy, wooded areas, but pack dogs and mules could easily traverse such terrain.

As they neared, Rushing Bull stepped from his hiding spot, his bow at the ready. “Stop! This is Lakota land!”

The dogs started growling and the hair along their backs rose in response to his threatening manner. One of the men spoke quietly to them and they all laid down. Another man, one wearing a wolf-skin coat raised a hand.

“Hau, we are peaceful. We only seek information,” he said in Lakota.

Rushing Bull smiled at his strange accent, now even more sure that this was Ames Duchamp. He lowered his bow and walked towards them.

“Perhaps you would like to know where those filthy Kiowa are?”

Anger glinted in the man’s blue eyes, but his lips curved in a smile. “I would be careful about insulting my family.”

Rushing Bull grinned. “Why? They speak just as badly of us. They have been waiting for you, Ames Duchamp.”

Ames’ eyes widened. “How did you know who I was?” His tribe would never give up his name for any reason.

“We are kin now, you and I,” Rushing Bull said to allay his worry. “My good friend, Dark Horse, married one of your women, Sky Dancer. We are now allies and kin. Your medicine man is betrothed to one of our maidens.”

Ames shook his head a little. “Why would Singing Water be taking another wife?”

A look of sadness settled on Rushing Bull’s face. “The one you speak of finished his journey along the Red Road. I am afraid that he is not the only one.”

Ames, a temperamental man by nature, had trouble containing his grief. “How many?”

Rushing Bull shrugged, which meant too many for him to count.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Ames swore in French.

Rushing Bull stepped back from him, surprised by the outburst. He wasn’t used to such behavior, nor did he know the French word Ames had practically shouted. While Ames stomped back and forth, swearing and acting like a crazy man, Rushing Bull looked over the two Indians with him.

He was surprised by the one’s hair style, a kind he’d never seen before. He had no idea what tribe the man might come from, but the other man he recognized as Kiowa. By this time, Ames had whipped off his beaver pelt hat and thrown it on the ground, whereupon he stomped on it a couple of times.

Rushing Bull cocked an eyebrow, truly beginning to wonder if Ames was possessed of some sort of spirit. He’d seen men angry before, but never had he witnessed such histrionics.

Ames finally stopped and took out his knife, a fine specimen, Rushing Bull noted. Ames yanked his long hair out from under his coat. He cut off the sun-colored mass, leaving the rest of it not quite shoulder-length. The Indians with him did the same. In this way, Rushing Bull realized that they also considered themselves family with the Kiowas.

Unabashedly, Ames brushed away his tears and said, “What do they call you, brother?”

“Rushing Bull.”

Ames brushed his hat off and put it back on. “This is Firebrand and Panther.” He motioned to each man in turn. “They speak Lakota. There is no need for sign.”

Rushing Bull nodded. “Welcome. Come meet our chief. Soaring Falcon is anxious to make your acquaintance. We will give you food and you can rest.”

“How far are we from our tribe?” Ames asked.

Sensing Ames’ impatience, Rushing Bull replied, “Not quite a day’s travel, but the hour grows late. You would be better to stay the night and leave at first light. You can visit with Cricket.”

Ames gave him a sharp look. “Do you mean Chirping Cricket?”

“He was Chirping Cricket, but he was renamed simply Cricket by the Spirit of Bison. It is a long story, one that he should tell you,” Rushing Bull said.

“Why is he here?” Panther asked.

“He is your medicine man now and comes to learn healing from our medicine men. He is the one betrothed to our chief’s granddaughter. Although a good healer and very powerful in other ways, he still has much to learn and there is no one else to teach him.” Rushing Bull shook his head. “He has had much to endure, but he is strong despite being as skinny as a stick.”

Ames couldn’t make further inquiries because they’d now entered the camp. He and his friends knew better than to speak to the women, but they did nod in a friendly way as they followed Rushing Bull. People began following them, something that the trio was used to when they peddled their wares.

The dogs took exception to this and growled whenever people came too close. They’d been trained to guard their loads and did their job well. They came to a large lodge that Ames realized must belong to the Lakota chief.

Suddenly, Ames’ lead dog, a furry, gray brute, yipped excitedly and bowed down playfully. He jumped up and let out a howl, which was echoed by the other dogs. Ames and his companions had to forcefully restrain the canines from entering the tipi.

“What is wrong with them?” Rushing Bull asked.

Ames laughed. “There is someone in there that they know.”

Rushing Bull said, “Most likely Cricket. As far as I know, none of your other family is here.”

As if summoned, a figure emerged from the tipi and Ames grinned. “Chirping Cricket!” He grabbed the surprised young man, hugging him and switching to Kiowa. “I have missed you! Your sister did exactly as I told her. Between that and your clues, we were able to find you. How are you?” He pulled back, taking the boy’s face in his hands, and looking into his eyes.

Cricket laughed. “Much better now that I know you are all safe and sound.”

Ames grinned and then kissed each of Cricket’s cheeks in the way of the French. “Did you doubt us? What have I always told you?”

Cricket’s grin widened. “That you are Ames Duchamp, able to find anyone, anywhere.”

“Right!”

Panther and Firebrand also fondly greeted the young man, grasping arms with him and inquiring after his family.

Immediately, Cricket sobered. “This fall was a terrible time. We were attacked by the Ojibwa and forced from our homelands. Many of us no longer walk this life, including my father and my mentor. Nor Sky Dancer’s father.”

Having vented some of his initial grief earlier, Ames was able to contain himself now. He didn’t want to embarrass Cricket in front of the Lakota. He also wanted to support the boy and he couldn’t do that if he was ranting and raving like a lunatic. However, his eyes stung and his chest felt tight with sadness. Fear that the woman of his heart also walked the next life filled him with dread.

Putting a hand on Cricket’s shoulder, he said, “I am greatly grieved by all of this news. Rushing Bull told us that there were losses, but he could not name them all.”

Cricket swallowed back tears. “It is a long, sad story, I am afraid.”

Another person emerged from the lodge.

Rushing Bull said, “Chief Soaring Falcon, this is the famed Ames Duchamp and his friends, Firebrand and Panther.”

Ames smiled at the man who stood proudly before him. “It is good to meet more kin,” he said, holding out his hand.

Soaring Falcon took his measure, noting that he was about Rushing Bull’s size. It had been a while since he’d seen any of the Iron Makers, as the older generations had called the whites. His keen eyes took in Ames’ vivid blue eyes, golden hair, and darker gold beard. He saw that Ames had cut his hair, a sign that he grieved. “It is good to meet such a famous man.” Soaring Falcon grasped arms with Ames as he returned his smile. “Please come inside out of the cold. My wife and granddaughter will fix you something to eat.” He caught sight of Firebrand. “A Gandastogue?”

Firebrand recognized the old tribal name of his ancestors and was surprised that Soaring Falcon knew it or that those were the people from whom he came. He asked, “Do you know my ancestor’s language?”

Soaring Falcon replied, “Only a few words. I have not heard about any of your people in a long time. I thought they were all dead.”

Firebrand shook his head. “Most were absorbed by the Mohawks and other Iroquois, but there are still a few old ones who remember our original people.”

Soaring Falcon nodded his understanding as his eyes noted the dogs and mules. He was curious as to what kinds of goods the trio of men had brought. “Rushing Bull, show our guests to the council lodge. They can leave all of their packs there.” To Ames, he said, “Nothing will happen to your things. You have my word.”

Cricket smiled. “He speaks the truth. Come. I will help you.”

He and Rushing Bull led the way to the council lodge. The dogs wouldn’t allow Rushing Bull to approach them, so he just stood out of the way. Cricket played with the dogs as he helped remove packs and harnesses. They stored all of the packs inside the lodge and tethered the dogs outside of it.

Ames sorted through his own pack, pulled several sacks made from duffle cloth from it and put it inside the lodge. Firebrand and Panther did the same with their packs.

“Do not worry,” Rushing Bull said. “Your things will be safe.”

“Thank you,” Ames said.

Cricket took them back the way they’d come.

Ames said, “Rushing Bull tells us that you are betrothed. Is that true?”

Cricket smiled bashfully. “Yes. Her name is Hummingbird and she is Soaring Falcon’s granddaughter.”

“You look happy about this.”

Cricket nodded. “Yes. She will be a good wife and she is very pretty.”

Ames was highly amused by Cricket’s shyness. “When is the wedding? I am glad that I did not miss it.”

“Oh, it will not be for three years,” Cricket replied. “I cannot support a wife yet.”

“It is wise of you to wait,” Ames said as they arrived at Soaring Falcon’s tipi.

The three travelers went inside with Cricket, were introduced around, and given a meal. When it concluded, Cricket began his sad tale.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Cricket’s arrival with their three returning family members created much excitement among the Kiowa band. Between the dogs greeting their human family with barks and yips and all of the human crosstalk, it was a noisy time.

As was his custom, Ames embraced most of his kin, expressing both joy at seeing them and grief over their lost loved ones. Soaring Falcon had also accompanied them and he watched their interaction with great interest.

Ames spotted Moonbeam, who’d been standing politely a short distance away. “There she is!” he said, moving through the throng of people to get to her. He picked her up and swung her around. “You’re even more beautiful than when I left!” he said in French.

Moonbeam hugged him tightly as she responded in kind. “You found us. We were worried that you wouldn’t.”

“I will always find you,” Ames said. “Especially when a very smart young lady leaves such good clues.”

Moonbeam pulled back and smiled at him. “I did well then?”

“Well? You did wonderful, my pet,” he told her and kissed her cheek. “Come. I’ve brought you something.”

He put her down and Moonbeam followed him over to the pack mules. From a saddlebag, he pulled out two leather bound journals and several graphite pencils, which he handed to Moonbeam.

“We will continue our lessons this winter, yes? You can write down the story of your journey here,” he said.

Moonbeam nodded, but lowered her eyes.

Ames knelt on one knee and made Moonbeam look at him as he now spoke in Kiowa. “I know that this has been an awful time. Chirp—Cricket told me about your father and my heart weeps, little one.”

Moonbeam tried to hold back her tears, but she couldn’t. “I miss him so much, Ames. I want him back.”

Enfolding her in his embrace, Ames said, “Me, too, Moonbeam.” He sighed. “But we must honor him by going on as he would want us to. We will be strong together, you and I, eh?”

Next to her father and brother, Ames was the man Moonbeam loved most and his return gave her such happiness and courage. “Oui, je vais être forte.”

Her agreement to be strong made Ames smile. “I am glad that you haven’t forgotten what I taught you, mademoiselle.”

He rose and was struck by a jolt of desire and joy as he met the gaze of the woman of his heart. She stood tall, strong, and proud as she looked at him. For the briefest of moments, he saw his love returned before Willow strode over to him and held out her arm. Now her smile only contained fondness.

“It is good to see you, Ames. I am running out of people to beat at knuckles.”

He grinned as he grasped arms with her. “Then it is a good thing that Firebrand is here now. You will not best me.”

Giving him a teasing look, she said, “We will see about that.”

Neither of them wanted to let go, but they had to. They released each other and stepped back. The group took the dogs and mules to the council lodge and relieved the animals of their burdens, storing their goods inside the lodge. Then the three travelers were shepherded to the central fire, where a feast had already started to be prepared in their honor.

As they all situated themselves around the large bonfire that had been built up, Soaring Falcon sat with Growling Wolf.

“I see why everyone likes Ames so much,” he said in Kiowa.

Over the last couple of months, both chiefs had worked on learning the other’s language and they were fairly proficient now.

Growling Wolf chuckled as he watched Ames tease one of their Dog Soldiers, Lightning Strike, about something. A celebratory air prevailed as many people came to visit with the new arrivals.

“He has genuine love in his heart for us and that is what draws us to him. Unlike most of the trappers who only make marriages in order to create alliances for trading, Ames comes because he has adopted us and cares about us.” Growling Wolf smiled. “It is the same with Firebrand and Panther. Panther is Fang’s cousin.” He spoke of their war leader. “When Ames was leaving the first time, Panther wanted to go with him. He has always been curious about other cultures and sought excitement and knowledge. He has traveled with Ames ever since.”

Soaring Falcon nodded. “And what of the Gandastogue? How did he come to you?”

“He was a Fox captive from the Mohawks. Ames won him in a gambling game and set him free, but Firebrand stayed with Ames out of gratitude. Now, the three of them are very close friends. Much like brothers,” Growling Wolf said.

“Interesting. Do you think they brought it?”

Growling Wolf chuckled. “I am certain that they did. We will find out tomorrow. Tonight is for celebrating.”

Soaring Falcon asked, “Ames has never taken a wife among other tribes?”

“No. I asked him when he first came to us.”

“He has no wife anywhere?”

“No. No white wife, no Indian wife.”

“I find it odd that he has not taken a wife among you since he keeps returning,” Soaring Falcon said.

Growling Wolf smiled. “You are suspicious. I understand why, but there is nothing to worry about.”

“Why are you so sure of him?”

“Have you heard of François Duchamp?”

Soaring Falcon nodded. “Yes, but I have not seen him or heard anything of him for some time.”

“François was Ames’ father.”

Soaring Falcon’s surprise was great. “Why did you not tell me Ames’ identity?”

Growling Wolf met his gaze. “It was not important until now. Now you understand why we trust him and why we have accepted him as one of us.”

“Yes. I can see why counting him as family would be advantageous.”

“Very. But, it is more than that. Ames has fought with us side-by-side. He has proven himself as a warrior and a friend,” Growling Wolf said. “He is not someone we just trade with. He has saved lives and killed in our honor. As far as we are concerned, he is Kiowa.”

Soaring Falcon nodded as his gaze settled on Willow. She laughed and nudged Cricket, obviously teasing him about something. From the bashful look on his face, Soaring Falcon surmised that it had something to do with his granddaughter.

He was pleased with the way he and Hummingbird were getting along. Cricket had never done anything improper around Hummingbird and Soaring Falcon had every confidence that he never would. Both the young medicine man and Hummingbird had too much integrity.

As the meal progressed, the gaiety continued as Ames, Firebrand, and Panther related amusing and exciting stories of their exploits. Then drums were brought out and some of the men performed a hunting dance, including the three travelers. Ames wasn’t the most graceful dancer, but he knew the steps well enough.

Taking off his bulky coat, he then dropped it on top of Moonbeam, who giggled and wrapped it around her. He wore a pair of heavy tan woolen French fly breeches, high moccasin boots with bands of white and blue at the top of his calves, and a buckskin shirt with blue bead work on it. Although he didn’t wear earrings, he did wear a dog’s tooth necklace made from the teeth of one of his most beloved canines who’d passed on a couple of years ago.

Soaring Falcon was surprised to see him dance. He’d known of white men who’d taken up with Indians before, but he’d never seen one actually participate in a dance before.

With difficulty, Ames kept his eyes away from Willow as he performed the dance steps. If he looked at her, he was sure to become mesmerized by her and make mistakes. He didn’t want to be embarrassed his first night home and he didn’t want to make anyone aware of his attraction to her.

Instead, he concentrated on the dance, raising his voice with his brothers and moving in time with the drums. Being back among his people restored his soul and he danced with great thanksgiving to Sendeh for bringing him safely back to them.

Although she would’ve like to have, Willow never participated in the men’s dances. It was the one male thing that she refrained from doing. Despite being a warrior, she was still female and the mixing of a female spirit in what was only meant for males could taint the magic of the dance. If she’d been two-spirit, it wouldn’t have mattered who she danced with, but despite her more masculine interests and skills, she was still very much a woman.

She enjoyed watching the dancers, especially the golden-haired man with piercing blue eyes, who made her heart beat faster. Careful not to pay more attention to him than the others, she smiled at Cricket, who played a hand drum and sang, or conversed with a couple of other women who sat by her. But she watched him as much as she could without raising suspicion.

When the dancing ended and things began winding down for the night, she made sure to grasp arms with him, as he did with the other warriors. She smiled and gave him the briefest of winks while no one else was looking. His smile broadened and her heart expanded before she turned away.

Ames turned to Lightning Strike. “Where have you set up my tipi?”

“Follow me,” Lightning Strike replied.

Saying goodnight to people as he went, Ames walked with Lightning Strike through the new camp, feeling out of place. It was only because of the new locale, not the people. They stopped by the council lodge so that he could get his pack, and then continued on to the northernmost side of the camp.

Ames tipi was always situated a little further away from the other tipis since his snoring was very loud at times. He’d requested for it to be placed there so that he didn’t disturb others.

Lightning Strike pointed it out to him. “We couldn’t salvage any of the hides from your old one.”

“Do not worry. It does not matter. All that does is that I am home again,” Ames said.

“Yes. It is good to have you home, brother. Sleep well and try not to snore too much,” Lightning Strike said.

Ames chuckled as his friend walked away. He ducked inside the tipi and deposited his pack on the soft hide floor. Just as he laid his coat on top of his pack, he heard someone slip into the tipi. It was just a whisper of sound, but his keen hearing picked it up, nonetheless.

“Ah, there you are, mon amour. I knew that you would come,” he whispered, smiling.

Willow stepped around in front of him and into his waiting arms. “Did you think that I would be able to stay away?”

“No more than I from you,” he said, holding her tightly. “I was petrified when Rushing Bull said that there had been losses to our tribe. I was afraid that you would be among them. I wept with grief over those who have gone to the next life, but also with joy when Cricket said that you still lived.”

“And I could have wept when I saw you this afternoon,” she said. “I prayed for you to safely return to us, to me. I was so worried about you. You would not have known that the Ojibwa had taken over our land and you—”

“Shh.” He cupped her face. “We knew right away that something was amiss. It took us longer to get here because we went well out around them to make sure we were not detected. But now I am here and everything is all right.” He kissed her softly. “I have missed you so much.”

Willow rarely cried, even when she was in great pain, but seeing Ames again made her heart sing and being held by him stirred her feelings as nothing else did. When his lips claimed hers, tears leaked out from under her closed eyelids. Winding her arms around his neck, she sank into his embrace, glorifying in the way he leisurely plundered her mouth.

She’d yearned for him all summer, had counted the days until they’d be reunited. Need for him quickly grew and she became impatient. Breaking the kiss, she backed away from him and let the bison robe she was wearing around her shoulders drop to the floor.

“Wait, mon petit oiseau.” Ames knelt and took out his fire starter from a pouch at his waist. “I wish to see you and it is chilly.”

Willow smiled. “If anyone else called me their little bird, I would hit them.”

Ames chuckled as he started a small fire. “But I am not just anyone, no?”

“No. You are not.”

As the flames dimly lit the interior of the tipi, Ames stood back up and stripped off his tunic. He moved to begin undoing the buttons of his breeches, but Willow stopped him. Stepping up to him, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders, enjoying the firm muscles she encountered.

At a little over six feet tall, Willow didn’t have to look up to very many men, but she had to tilt her head up to meet Ames’ eyes. The heat in their silvery-blue depths made her melt inside. His proud, aquiline nose led down to a sensual male mouth and strong jaw.

So much about Ames was so different and fascinating to her. She stroked his beard, something that the men in her culture didn’t grow. He would most likely shave it the next day, as he usually did once he’d come for the winter. Its rough texture pleased her and she liked the way it felt when he kissed her. Lowering her gaze, she caressed his powerful chest, playing with the fine, golden curls that covered it.

A line of short, blond hair made a trail down over his taut, defined stomach and disappeared into the waist of his breeches. Playfully, she hooked a finger in them and tugged before undoing the first button.

“No, no,” Ames said. “You know the rule.”

Her smile matched his as she raised her arms. Anticipation grew as he lifted her buckskin shirt from her.

“Mmm. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he said, pulling her to him.

Willow gasped as he filled one of his palms with her breast and kissed her throat. “Please, Ames, I need you. Now.”

With a deep growl, Ames released the thongs holding up her leggings. The tie holding her breechcloth on her slim hips quickly followed. Their first coupling when he returned to her was never gentle. Their mutual desire was too intense to hold back for very long.

Ames kissed her urgently, their tongues meeting in a fiery, velvet clash as she unbuttoned his breeches the rest of the way and shoved them down. His rapidly hardening member jutted out from his body under his drawers. Willow made quick work of the undergarments and pushed them down along with his breeches.

Their hands were suddenly everywhere, teasing, kneading, and stroking as their carnal need mounted. Ames pulled her down to the sleeping pallet and pinned her on her back with a knee between her legs. Thrusting a hand into her hair, he bent her neck back a little to give him better access to it.

He kissed and bit his way down to her breasts. They were in proportion to her elegant, long-limbed body: not overly large, but certainly enough to indicate her gender. In his eyes, they were perfect and he took his first taste of one dusky nipple.

Willow gasped and arched her back a little just as someone scratched on the tipi flap. Her and Ames’ eyes met in a look of panic.

As quickly as he could, given his aroused state, Ames scrambled off Willow, who grabbed her clothing and ducked behind one of the privacy panels since she was slim enough to fit into the narrow space.

“One moment,” Ames said, putting his breeches on without bothering with the underwear.

Thankfully, his arousal had started to deflate, so it wouldn’t be too painful. Sitting down, he threw a deerskin robe around his shoulders, which was also long enough to hid his lap.

“Come in,” he said.

A jolt of surprise went through Ames when Growling Wolf stepped into the tipi. I hope he will not stay long. Poor Willow will freeze.

“Chief, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Growling Wolf lowered himself stiffly down to the floor. His knees cracked loudly as they protested the movement and the chief grimaced. “This gets harder all the time.”

Ames felt badly for the elderly man. “I am glad that Chir—Cricket was able to make a poultice that helps.”

“As am I. I will not keep you, but I must know: were you able to secure ammunition?” Growling Wolf asked.

Ames smiled. “Have I ever let you down?”

The chief chuckled. “No.”

“We started out with two hundred weight of lead sheets. At night around the fire, we made musket balls with the molds I purchased. They are ready for use. We also brought plenty of cartridge paper and powder. Where are the guns?” Ames asked. “Were you able to salvage them?”

“They were one of the first things we packed,” Growling Wolf replied. “If it were not for our new Lakota family, we would have been wiped out. As much as I hate to admit it, the Ojibwa were too great in number for us to defeat on our own.”

“It is good then that we have such a wise chief. You have always been skillful in creating alliances,” Ames said.

Growling Wolf grunted. “It was Cricket who set it all in motion by calling the bison to us. Therefore, most of the credit goes to him. I should not have doubted his mentor in choosing him to join the medicine men.”

“True on all counts, but you still played a large part in it.” Ames faked a yawn. “It is good to not have to travel for a couple of days. Willow said that they have scouted out some good areas for trapping.”

“Yes. We knew how important it would be.” Growling Wolf rubbed one of his knees. “You will need to lay your traps right away since you are getting a little later start. But we can talk about this tomorrow. You are no doubt exhausted.”

Ames nodded. “I will sleep like a rock.”

Growling Wolf sighed. “Will you help me up? Depending on others this way is very humbling and no one will let me do what I should do.”

Ames rose and assisted him in rising. “I am glad they will not. You are still needed too much and your mind is as sharp as ever.” He made sure that Growling Wolf was steady before letting go of him.

“Humph. I suppose so.”

Ames chuckled at his grumpy response. “Do you want me to walk with you?”

Growling Wolf frowned at him. “No. I got here on my own and I will get to my tipi on my own, too. Allow me some dignity.”

Ames held up his hands in surrender. “I did not mean to offend you with my concern.”

With a little smile, Growling Wolf said, “I bid you goodnight, my friend.”

“Goodnight, Chief.”

 

 

Chapter Three

 

When Growling Wolf left, Willow came out from behind the privacy panel. She’d been able to get her tunic on and she’d sat on her leggings and breeches, but it had still been cold. However, her training had come in handy and she’d been able to deal with it. Her tunic barely covered her nakedness.

She loved the way Ames’ gaze devoured her and her body warmed as he looked at her. She knelt on the sleeping robes and took off her tunic again.

Ames arched a brow at her. “You are not leaving?”

She shook her head and lay down. “I cannot go until you have made love to me at least once. I have waited too long.”

Looking over her lovely, tawny form, Ames wanted nothing more than to make love with her, but something told him that Growling Wolf wouldn’t be the last visitor he had that night.

His voice was full of regret. “Willow, you—”

She rose gracefully to her feet and started dressing without speaking. Words weren’t necessary. Her anger showed in her flashing eyes.

Ames signed, “Do not be cross with me. I am not happy, either, but I am sure that others will be along. We would not have to sneak around if you would just marry me.”

Willow finished dressing. “We have talked about this.”

“Yes, we have and you are being stubborn when there is no reason to be,” Ames said.

“You do not understand.”

Ames blocked her path to the door. “Because you will not explain it to me.”

“I just do not wish to be married.” Willow tried to get around him, but he grabbed her by the upper arms.

“I cannot keep living half a life with you. It is bad enough that I am away from you so much,” Ames said. “When I am here, I want to be with you all the time, but I cannot because you will not marry me. And if they knew that I took your virginity and did not marry you, there would be a lot of trouble.”

Willow shook her head. “They will not know. Neither one of us are telling anyone.”

“There is always the chance that they will find out,” Ames said.

“Then we will keep being as cautious as possible so that does not happen.”

Ames drew in a deep breath. “No. I cannot, will not keep living a lie.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

His grip loosened and he rubbed her arms. “I am saying that I love you more than anything, but that I cannot keep up this pretense. I want to marry you, have children with you. I want everyone to know about our love. Hiding it feels so wrong. I cannot be with you unless you agree to marry me, Willow. Do you not love me enough to marry me?”

Her nostrils flared and her eyes stung with tears. “I love you as much as you love me, but I cannot marry you.”

Ames’ heart cracked as she spoke. Clenching his jaw, he stepped back from her. “Then I guess that we are at an impasse.”

Willow stared at him for a moment and then ducked through the doorway and walked away before she changed her mind. She wandered blindly through camp, and then on to the river they now camped near. Sitting down by the bank, she pulled her robe around her shoulders.

Tears of misery and frustration trickled from her eyes. Why did Growling Wolf have to show up? I would be making love with Ames right now if he had not. We would not have argued. A quiet sob rose from her.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder. Surprised, she whirled around and struck out, knocking their legs out from under them. They landed heavily, letting out a loud “ooff!” She was on them in an instant, straddling them with her knife at the ready.

“Willow! It is just me, Cricket! Do not kill me!”

His black eyes were wide, showing his fear.

Willow sheathed her knife and moved off him. “I am sorry if I hurt you. You startled me.”

Cricket sat up and rubbed his left shoulder. It had been injured during a clash with an Ojibwa brave and still bothered him sometimes, especially when it was jarred.

Willow noticed. “Are you all right?”

Cricket smiled. “I am fine. I did not mean to sneak up on you. I was not aware you were here until I heard you crying. What is wrong?”

“Nothing. I am fine,” Willow said, sitting back down.

Cricket sat down by her. “You did not sound fine.”

Willow pounded the ground. “I am fine. I will be fine. Everything is fine.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“I do not have a choice but to be fine,” Willow responded.

Cricket sighed. “Even warriors are allowed to have feelings.”

“You do not understand. It is different for me. I have to constantly prove myself, even more so than a man does,” Willow said.

“I do not know about that.” Cricket pulled his robe tighter around him. “I think everyone knows what you are capable of. How brave and deadly.”

“Perhaps, but if I do not keep performing up to those standards, I will be found lacking,” Willow said. “I could not stand that.”

“Is that what is bothering you? Has someone said something to you? Is Growling Wolf unhappy with you?”

“No. Not him.”

“Fang?”

“No one has said anything critical to me.” At least not about that. “I will be fine.”

Cricket was silent for a moment before saying, “As a medicine man, it is my duty to keep conversations confidential if a person so wishes. You are obviously troubled by something. If you need to talk to someone, you can always talk to me. I would never betray your confidence.”

In a rare show of affection, Willow took Cricket’s hand and squeezed it. “You are a good friend, Cricket, but this is something that I must deal with on my own.”

Cricket tightened his hand around hers. “You may think you do, but you really do not. But I will respect your wishes.”

“Thank you. I am going to bed. Goodnight.”

Cricket was very concerned about his friend. He’d never seen Willow cry before. Whatever was bothering her must be very painful to have made her weep. Sendeh, please help Willow with what is weighing on her heart and if she should come to me about it, give me the wisdom to help her.

 

 

It was cold the next morning when Willow awoke just after dawn. She had her morning tea and a breakfast of leftover venison stew and fry bread. Unlike other unmarried warriors, who either lived with their mothers or sisters, Willow lived alone and had for several years. Her parents were gone, as were her aunt and uncle who had finished raising her.

Outside of Lightning Strike and his sister, Tulip, she had no blood family. Therefore, she lived alone and preferred it that way. She came and went as she pleased without having to account to anyone for her whereabouts. That didn’t mean that she didn’t like to entertain, though. She was a competent cook and homemaker and sometimes had her friends over for the evening meal.

Living alone also made it easier to see Ames. Or at least it had. She couldn’t believe that things had gone so wrong the first night he’d returned. He’d asked her to marry him the first season he’d come to their tribe. Their attraction had been immediate, but she’d been shy at first, which was very unlike her.

As a woman warrior, Willow was used to attention from men. She fascinated them and she wasn’t unaware that she was beautiful. However, outside of a little flirting, she’d never had anything to do with a man romantically. That had all changed when Ames had shown up out of the blue.

He’d captivated her with his sky-colored eyes and beautiful, sun-like hair. His size and power had enthralled her and his flirting had the power to make her blush. Unused to feeling such things, she’d been unsure of what to do. She wasn’t like other women who gazed at their men with longing in their eyes—or so she’d thought.

From the first moment Ames had kissed her, she’d been his. She shouldn’t have let him take her virginity, but she’d never regret it. Neither of them had been able to resist temptation. He’d wanted to marry her before he left at the end of winter, but she’d refused. And had kept refusing.

Sighing as she finished her breakfast, Willow set her bowl aside and put on her buffalo hide coat. Gathering her weapons, she stepped out into the chilly day.

“Willow!”

She froze at hearing Ames’ voice. Turning, she watched him walk towards her with long strides and a determined expression on his clean-shaven face. Oh, no. I know that look.

He smiled, but his eyes held a hard light. “Come, show me this new trapping run.”

Her status as a warrior enabled her to be alone with men, so it was not unusual for her to travel with them unchaperoned. She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but then smiled because a couple of people were watching them.

“Very well,” she said and began walking.

Falling into step with her, Ames thumped her on the shoulder, just as he would’ve any of the braves. “I am eager to see this new territory.”

“I think that you will harvest many good pelts from it this year,” she said, playing along even though her temper simmered.

Once they were out of earshot of the others, Ames asked, “Did you sleep well?”

She met his gaze head on. “No. Did you?”

“No.”

They headed toward the rising sun. It glinted off the frost on the tree branches and made the sparse snow sparkle. They walked in silence for about fifteen minutes. Then Ames took Willow by the arm and yanked her off the deer trail they were walking along, pulling her into a densely wooded area.

“What are you doing?”

She shoved at him, but he pinned her against an elm tree, using his muscular bulk to keep her in place while he held her wrists so she couldn’t hit him. He kicked one of her legs out to the side and stepped further into the V of her legs.

Their gazes locked and they didn’t move for several moments until Ames’ face relaxed into a smile. Chuckling, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I can’t stay angry with you, my love,” he said in French. “And I can’t stay away from you, either, even though I should.”

She grinned. “That’s because I have bewitched you.”

Ames ground his hips against hers. “Yes, you have. Do you feel how much you’ve bewitched me?”

“Yes. I’m just as bewitched by you. Please make love to me now. Please.” Ames was the only man who could reduce Willow to pleading. “I need you, to be one with you.”

His eyes darkened with desire before he kissed her with all the passion of a summer storm. She met his hungry mouth, opening to him as he cupped the back of her head with one hand and slightly loosened the waist thong of her breechcloth. He tugged the front of it loose, baring her to the morning air. Laying a large hand on her stomach, he caressed his way downward until he found her mound.

Willow couldn’t hold still as he gently teased her. She moaned into his mouth and hooked a leg over his hip.

Ames released her lips. “I want you so much. You drive me mad with need.”

“Good. I want you to burn for me the way you make me burn for you,” Willow told him, quickly undoing his fly. “I think you are very much on fire.”

Ames growled quietly as she took his hard length in hand and caressed him. His loins tightened. “Yes. On fire.”

He drew her hand away, grasped her buttocks, and lifted her up. Willow wrapped her legs around his waist and moaned as he slowly filled her. She encircled his neck with her arms and kissed him as he began moving. They danced their tongues together as he set an even pace.

Breaking the kiss, Ames said, “Marry me.”

“No.”

“Marry me.”

“No.”

It became a litany that was timed with every thrust. His tempo increased and a sweet tension built within Willow as she held on to his powerful shoulders. She whimpered, a sound that only Ames could ever elicit from her. As one, they sought the ultimate pleasure, their muscles straining and their breath coming in short pants.

“Marry me. I love you so much.”

“Ames, please. I love you, but I can’t,” she rasped out between breaths.

He growled in frustration and pleasure. “I’ll beg, if that’s what it takes.”

“No. It won’t work. Please, Ames.”

Ames couldn’t resist her plea, nor the heavenly sensations surging through his body. He gave in for the moment, both to ceasing their conversation and to their mutual quest for fulfillment. Getting a better grip on her derrière, he thrust his hips forward hard.

“Yes, yes.” Willow closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree.

Ames increased the tempo and Willow trembled around and against him. Again and again, he drove her against the tree, seeking to give her as much pleasure as she could take. She dug her fingers into his coat as she suddenly went rigid against him, her face caught in an expression of utter bliss. Her climax held her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Ames kept moving, mesmerized by the look of rapture on her gorgeous face and the pulsing heat around his rigid shaft. Her lungs began working once more and a she let out a shuddering moan that conveyed her pleasure.

“We are not through quite yet. Hang on, my pet.”

Willow had been without him for so long and she still needed him. “Yes, love me more.”

With power and precision, he took them higher. Together they strove towards the summit, their bodies colliding over and over. Willow buried her face against his shoulder to muffle her gasping cry of pleasure as an even stronger release flowed through her.

Ames shot into a climax with such intensity that it created a roaring in his head. He gripped her toned, shapely flesh tighter as he froze, a very willing captive of searing ecstasy. Gradually, the roaring faded and the bliss ebbed away. A very pleasant state of satiation took hold of them and Ames locked his knees to stay upright as their bodies relaxed.

Lowering her feet to the ground, Willow gave him a slightly dazed smile as she caught her breath. “I cannot think when I am with you like this.” She caressed his now-smooth jaw. “I do not want to think. I just want to feel.”

Embracing her, Ames said, “You are not the only one. You drive away all of my reason. I need you as I have never needed another.”

They now spoke in Kiowa.

A frown of uncertainty appeared between her eyebrows. “When you go away, do you lay with other women?”

“Willow, how could you ask me that?” Kindness and a little irritation shone in his eyes. “Since our very first kiss, I have never touched another woman. I have no desire for anyone but you.” He arched a dark gold brow. “And what of you? Have you been with any braves while I was gone?”

“Of course not.” She smoothed hair back from his temple. “I have given myself only to you and you are the only man I will ever love with either my body or my heart.”

He kissed her and then moved away. “Tell me why you will not marry me.”

Willow refastened her breechcloth around her hips with angry movements.

“Have I not proven myself to you?” Ames asked. “Why can you not be honest with me? We share such intimate pleasure, but you will not let me completely into your heart.”

Willow shook her head as tears burned behind her eyes. “I cannot…you will hate me.”

Coming back to her, Ames took her in his arms. “I could never hate you, my sweet. Please talk to me.”

“Ames, I never expected to fall in love. I never thought I would. I knew that one day I would give myself to a man, but it would only be for physical pleasure.” She rested her forearms on his shoulders. “But I fell in love with you the moment we grasped arms and you looked at me with your beautiful eyes.”

He smiled and her heart flooded with love. “It was the same for me. I knew that I must have you.”

“I am a warrior, Ames.”

“Yes, and a very mighty one. I am aware of this.”

Willow played with the fringes on the bottom of her tunic. “I cannot be a warrior if I am pregnant.”

Understanding dawned on him. “Ah, I see. You are worried that if we marry, that I will expect you to give up your position. I would never do that. Yes, you could not do battle once you are pregnant, but otherwise…”

She shook her head. “I cannot have children right now. Our number of fighters are low and I am one of the most highly skilled. I must continue to be available to fight. If we marry, I will be expected to bear children. It is one of a woman’s most important duties.”

“Do you not want children?” He gave her a mischievous smile. “Perhaps little blue-eyed Indians running all over camp? I must confess that I have secretly been hoping that you would become pregnant. Then you would have to marry me.”

Willow decided to be completely honest. “I will not become pregnant.”

Ames cupped her face and tilted her chin up. “Why not?”

“Because I take a purging tea every morning to make sure that does not happen. So that your seed does not take hold,” she whispered.

This wasn’t unusual. Many women did the same thing, especially at certain times of the year when having a child during a different season wouldn’t be convenient. This was also done during lean times when a tribe couldn’t support more mouths to feed. To lessen the chances of conception even more, couples would limit their lovemaking or refrain from actual intercourse for a time.

Ames’ eyebrows rose. “This is why you would not marry me? Because you were afraid that I would be angry that you do not wish to have children right now?” He kissed her forehead. “Children belong to women and if it is your choice not to have them for a while, so be it. As long as you have them within a few years, this does not bother me. I am twenty-eight winters old. Do not make me wait too much longer to be a father.”

Light suffused Willow’s soul. “You truly are not angry that I have prevented a child?”

Although a part of him was disappointed, Ames knew that she’d done the right thing for her tribe. She was also right about being needed to protect their people, something she couldn’t do if she was heavy with child.

“No. I am not angry,” Ames said. “Is this the only thing holding you back from becoming my wife?”

“Yes.”

“Then since I have removed that obstacle, Willow, the woman of my heart and my reason for living, will you please honor me by marrying me?”

His romantic proposal and the love shining in his eyes touched her heart. Knowing how honest and straightforward Ames was, Willow believed him about being willing to wait for children.

“Yes! I will marry you.”

Ames embraced her tightly, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. When they parted, he chuckled a little. “Finally, I have captured my little bird. I promise to make you happy.”

“You already do.”

He frowned. “Who do I ask permission to court you?”

Willow hadn’t thought about that, either. “I guess you will have to ask Lightning Strike. He is my only living male relative.”

“Then I will do it tonight. I do not want a long courtship. I have plenty of bride price gifts,” he said.

“Such as?”

“No, no. You will see,” he teased.

“Very well. We must go. There is a stream not far from here where we can bathe. Then we will have to hurry through the rest of the trap line so that we do not raise suspicion by being gone for so long,” she said.

He took her hand and kissed it. “Soon we will not have to worry about that and we will be able to be together whenever we want to.”

Willow smiled. “I cannot wait.”

They set off along the deer trail, happiness flowing between them. They shared a new closeness, looking forward with great anticipation to their lives being joined.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Lightning Strike looked at the vast array of bride price gifts that lay around him on the floor of his sister’s tipi. Two fine flintlocks, ammunition, a sack of high quality glass beads, several iron arrowheads, a sack of coffee, and ten beaver pelts lay before him. Ames had also bought a horse from Rushing Bull and given it to Lightning Strike.

“These are all very fine gifts,” Lightning Strike said. “But I am confused.”

“What about?”

Lighting Strike shifted his position a little. “I did not know that you were interested in Willow. She has never said anything. Have you spoken to her about this?”

“Yes, we have talked about it. It has taken a while to convince her to marry me, but I finally wore her down,” Ames said.

Lighting Strike’s expression grew serious. “Are you sure that you can handle being married to a warrior?”

Ames understood Lighting Strike’s concern. He knew that Willow was an oddity who fascinated men, but they would only want her casually, just to see what making love to her would be like. They wouldn’t love her warrior’s heart the way he did. They wouldn’t see past her tough exterior to the caring, loving, and passionate woman within.

“Willow is unique, but it is that uniqueness that draws me to her. She is beautiful, strong, and intelligent. She knows how to take care of a home, but that is not all that important to me. She has great trapping instincts and is a great help to me, but more than that, I believe that we will be happy together,” Ames said. “I care for her very much and I promise to treat her with respect.”

Lighting Strike nodded sagely. “I will speak with Willow and let you know my answer tomorrow.” It wouldn’t be wise to appear too eager.

Ames wasn’t offended about being put off. He’d expected it. “Very well. I have a few things to do before I go to sleep. Have a pleasant night.”

Lighting Strike bid him goodnight and he ducked out of the tipi. Inhaling the cold night air, Ames smiled up at the stars, confident that all would be well between him and his lady warrior.

 

 

“Open your eyes, Cricket.”

Slowly, Cricket woke up and stretched. Cool grass pressed against his bare back and he realized that this was a spirit dream. It was always summertime whenever Bison visited him. The seasons sometimes changed once their time together began, but it always started out during the warmer months.

Getting to his feet, Cricket smiled. “Greetings, Mighty Bison. It is good to see you.”

“As it is you, Cricket.” Bison pawed the ground a little. “I have good news.”

Cricket patted his shoulder. “I am glad to hear that.”

“And I have bad news.”

Cricket dropped his head. “Somehow I knew that you would say that. Is it very bad news? Are we going to be attacked again?”

Bison just said, “Walk with me.”

Looking around, Cricket realized that they were on the path to their new camp. “I miss our old home. Things feel so strange here. It does not have the same energy. The energy that is here often disturbs me.”

Bison nudged Cricket playfully. “How so?”

Birds twittered in the trees as they passed and a squirrel chattered on the path up ahead. “There are times when I feel it inside me like a second heartbeat. A couple of times, I almost passed out because it was so strong,” Cricket replied.

They entered the camp, but it was empty and the central fire was completely out. No smoke rose from the tipis and no dogs ran through the camp. All birdsong and other wilderness noises had ceased. A chill ran through Cricket as the silence hummed around him.

“Where is everyone?”

There was no answer. Cricket found himself alone. Bison had left him.

“I hate it when he does that,” he muttered. “What is it that I am supposed to see in this deserted place?”

A child’s laughter pierced the quiet, making Cricket smile. He saw a small figure dart between a couple of tipis. The glimpse was too quick for him to tell the child’s identity. Cricket jogged to where he’d seen the little one vanish. More laughter came from behind him and he whirled around.

The child was almost completely translucent, making it difficult to see its exact age or whether it was a boy or a girl. However, he was able to make out that it had very light hair and smiling blue eyes.

“A spirit child.” Cricket crouched in front of the little one. “Hello. I am Cricket. What is your name?”

The child shrugged. “I do not know.”

Cricket nodded. “I see. You have not been born yet.”

“No, but I must be. Sendeh says that no matter what, I must be born.”

With that the child backed away and faded from sight.

Cricket rose and felt Bison’s presence behind him. “Is that the good news or the bad new?”

“Both.”

“Whose child is it?”

The loud silence returned and then the hum began growing louder until it swelled around Cricket. He put his hands over his ears, but it didn’t help. He fell to the ground and just as his body collided with the earth, he woke up with a start.

His heart thundered as he lay on his sleeping pallet. Raising his head, he saw in the dim light from the low flames in the fire pit that his mother slept soundly. But Moonbeam lay staring at him. Had he been talking in his sleep and woken her?

He gave her a half smile and rested his head back down to indicate that all was well, but was it? His mind returned to the spirit child. Why must it be born and why was it both good and bad news? Gooseflesh broke out over his body, a sign that usually meant that he would find out before long.

 

 

Willow had just finished her breakfast the next morning when Lighting Strike came to see her.

“Good morning, cousin,” she said. “Please sit. I still have some tea left.”

Sitting down, Lighting Strike’s gaze rested on his cousin’s face. Now that he was looking for it, he saw a difference in her. A happiness that he hadn’t noticed before and he knew that it must be because of Ames.

He accepted a cup of tea. “Thank you. I had an interesting visit last night.”

A smile played around her mouth as she poured herself another cup and took a sip. “Oh?”

Lighting Strike chuckled. “I think you already know who the visitor was.”

“Perhaps.”

“When did Ames first express his interest in you?”

Willow said, “A while ago, but I would not agree to marry him because I was worried that he would expect me to give up being a warrior.”

Lighting Strike raised an eyebrow. “You would deny yourself a husband to retain your status?”

Willow sobered. “My duty to this tribe comes first, even if that means denying myself happiness. Protecting our people makes me happy. Being a warrior makes me happy.”

Lightning Strike watched her closely. “What about children?”

Prepared for this question, Willow said, “They will come whenever the time is right.”

Meeting Willow’s eyes, Lightning Strike understood what she meant. As a man, it was impolite of him to question her further about such a thing, so he merely asked, “Are you sure that Ames is agreeable to that?”

Her expression tightened. “It is not for him to decide, but yes, we have discussed it and he completely understands.”

With a slight nod, Lightning Strike said, “He has offered many fine gifts for you. Would you like to come see them?”

Willow grinned. “Yes.”

“You love him.”

His statement didn’t surprise Willow. Lightning Strike was a perceptive man and he knew her well. “Yes. Very much.”

“You both hid it very well,” Lightning Strike said. “I had no idea. Everyone will be very surprised.”

Willow rose to her feet when he did. “It took me by surprise, too. I never thought I would fall in love, and certainly not with a white man, but Ames is special in many ways.”

“Yes, he is. Come so that we may look at these gifts together. If they meet with your approval, we will make the announcement and begin planning the wedding,” Lighting Strike said.

Willow followed him out into the gray daylight. The scent of snow hung in the air and she smiled as she thought how happy Ames would be that a storm was imminent. How many times had they made love during a nighttime storm with the sound of sleet or a driving snow falling on his tipi?

With difficulty, Willow stopped smiling, knowing that if she kept grinning like a fool that it would make people curious. Reaching Lightning Strike’s sister, Tulip’s tipi, she ducked inside and greeted her other cousin.

Tulip smiled. “You have been holding out on us, cousin.”

“I wanted to keep it private,” Willow said as she sat down. “There was no sense talking about it until something definite had been decided.”

Lightning Strike began unwrapping Ames’ gifts. “You were successful.”

As the arrowheads, knife, and other presents were revealed to her, Willow’s eyes widened. “He has given all of this for me?”

“And the horse outside, too.”

Tears stung Willow’s eyes and she had to clear her throat to speak. “These are such expensive gifts. I cannot believe that he would give so much for me.”

Tulip took her hand. “He must love you very much.”

Blinking rapidly, Willow nodded. “Yes. And I love him.” Admitting that out loud to her family felt so freeing, so right, and she was glad that she’d finally talked to Ames about her fears. It had been stupid of her to have thought that his reaction would’ve been any different than it had been.

“Then these gifts meet your approval?” Lightning Strike asked.

Willow nodded. “Yes.”

“Then we will announce your betrothal,” Lightning Strike said.

Excitement and happiness flooded Willow’s being and she couldn’t contain her grin. “Please do not wait long. I want to marry him as soon as possible.”

Tulip rose. “Let us go speak with Cricket right away in that case.”

Lightning Strike went outside with them. “I will tell Ames that his gifts are acceptable.” He touched Willow’s arm. “I am very happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

Then she followed Tulip to the medicine lodge where they were sure to find Cricket. A thrill ran through her as she thought that soon she would be able to be with her beloved all the time. Building a life with Ames would be such a joy and she couldn’t wait to begin it.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

The news of Ames’ and Willow’s betrothal was met with great surprise and happiness. They were congratulated and all approved of their union. It further solidified Ames’ place in the tribe and increased their love of him even more.

Now that it was out in the open, their feelings for each other were very apparent. Willow was teased about it, but she didn’t mind and took the ribbing good naturedly. Ames was likewise teased that Willow would soon train him. He replied by telling them that he was happy to be trained by his beautiful bride-to-be.

Growling Wolf called Willow to his tipi a couple of days after their announcement.

“Sit with me,” he requested.

Willow complied and waited for him to speak.

“I have invited our Lakota kin to attend the wedding of one of our most celebrated warriors and that of our good friend and ally.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “Why would you do this? I do not want them here.”

Growling Wolf’s eyebrows rose. “Is it not apparent why I would do this? We were invited to Dark Horse and Sky Dancer’s wedding.”

She’d intended to only ask Sky Dancer and Dark Horse to come. If the Lakota were coming that meant that Soaring Falcon would attend. She didn’t want the man she hated so much to be present at her joyful occasion.

Growling Wolf’s expression turned stony. “They are our kin, so they will attend. I know that you do not like Soaring Falcon, but I cannot figure out why.”

Anger ran hot through her veins, but Willow kept it in check. “He and his people are mainly responsible for the reason we had to leave our homeland. They killed many of our men and hunted in our territory, making it hard to find game. Is that not reason enough?”

“I am well aware of our history with them, but the time has come to put that aside and to embrace our alliance and new friendship,” Growling Wolf said.

Willow knew that once her chief made up his mind that there would be no changing it. “Very well. You are my chief and I will obey you, but I do not like it.” She gave him a rare direct stare and left the tipi before anger loosened her tongue.

Growling Wolf sighed. She can be as prickly as a porcupine. May Sendeh give Ames plenty of patience in dealing with her.

 

 

The first heavy snow of the season fell all that day and night. It didn’t deter Cricket from sitting outside for a while, however. He sat on a thick, furry bison robe with a couple more draped over him. He needed to see the stars while he prayed. Ames’ lead dog, Gray, lay curled up against Cricket’s back under the robes, lending his body heat to keep Cricket warm.

He meditated more on the vision about the spirit child. It was now obvious to him that it was Ames’ and Willow’s child, but what was its significance and what might keep it from being born? Should he speak to Willow about it? Ames? It was a delicate matter and he wasn’t sure that it was his place to say anything.

“My mentor, I wish that you were here to help me decide what to do,” he whispered. “There is so much that I do not know and, while I am grateful to Smoking Fire for teaching me, I feel that it is somehow wrong to be learning Lakota medicine when I am Kiowa.” He shook his head.

“Chirping Cricket?”

He sighed when he recognized Moonbeam’s voice. “Yes, sister.”

“Why are you out here in the snow? Come home. You will become sick. I will make you some tea.” Her face appeared before him when she crouched in front of him.

“I am praying,” he said sternly. “What have I told you about disturbing me when I am out here?”

Gray’s tail thumped the ground and he squirmed around until he could reach Moonbeam. She giggled and scratched his ears. “I see you have company.”

Cricket smiled. “Yes, but unlike you, he does not bother me while I am praying.”

Moonbeam smirked at him. “I will leave you, but do not sit out here too much longer.”

Gray followed her, leaving Cricket completely alone. He pulled the robes tighter around him and tried to concentrate again, but it was no use. Aggravated, he rose from his spot and picked up the robe he’d been sitting on. He started walking to the medicine lodge, intending to crush up some of the willow bark he’d collected the day before so it was ready to make tea.

His mind strayed to his betrothed and he smiled as he ducked inside the lodge. Hummingbird was much wiser than many people knew and she had a pleasant disposition. She made delicious food and behaved very wifely towards him sometimes. One day when he’d gone to visit her, she’d noticed a small tear in his leggings and had made him give them to her to repair.

She often did things like that for him. In return, he had his mother make Moonbeam jewelry and sometimes he gave Hummingbird pretty stones he found. He’d purchased a few white man’s needles from Ames and planned to give them to Hummingbird when he saw her in a couple of days.

Ames hadn’t wanted to charge him anything, but Cricket had informed him that he was no longer a boy who had to be given things. He now had currency in the form of medicines and potions and he could pay for the needles. They’d agreed on a fair price; a jar of bear grease salve and a pouch of dried eucalyptus for ten good needles.

Cricket couldn’t wait to see Hummingbird’s eyes shine when he gave them to her. It made him feel warm when he thought about the few brief kisses they’d stolen. He wondered what it would be like to really kiss her, but it wouldn’t be proper for him to actually do it. Still, he couldn’t help thinking about it.

His musings were interrupted when someone scratched on the lodge flap. “Come.”

He was surprised to see Growling Wolf come inside. “Háːcho, Cricket.”

“Háːcho, Chief. Would you like some coffee?”

Growling Wolf’s eyes lit up. Ames always brought coffee with him and the chief greatly enjoyed it. “I will not refuse some.”

Cricket put it on to brew while Growling Wolf shook off his robe near the tipi entrance and then sat down.

“I am glad to see you, Chief, but you should be careful walking around in the snow,” Cricket said.

“Stop mothering me.” His chuckle took the bite out of his words. “What are you doing?”

“Grinding up dried plants for either tea or poultices.”

Growling Wolf’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “One day you will have a pretty wife to help you.”

Cricket’s cheeks heated as he smiled. “Yes. I look forward to that time. Oh! There is another reason I am glad you came. I want to try something I think may help your knees.”

He took a big pot outside and scooped and packed snow into it. Going back inside, he hung the pot over the fire. “There are many things the white men make that I do not like, but these metal containers are very handy.”

Growling Wolf grunted. “Yes, but I fear that one day, we will depend too much on these things and that our old ways will be lost.”

“I pray that does not happen.”

“As do I.” Growling Wolf watched Cricket grind up willow bark. “Have you had any great revelations lately?”

Cricket met his eyes. “I am not sure. A few things, but they do not seem very big right now. I will keep meditating on them.”

The chief nodded. “It is growing closer to the time when I must go away.” He raised a hand. “Do not disagree with me. You know that it is true. If we had not been close enough to the Hidatsa this fall, I would have slowed us down too much.”

Cricket couldn’t meet his eyes, but he nodded. “Yes. It pains me greatly to say it, but you are right. But, before you decide to do anything, I would like you to think about something.”

“Very well.”

Sitting back, Cricket said, “You are one of our few elders left to tell the ancient stories. I would ask that you tell as many as you can remember before you leave us to go to the next life. I say this because our other Kiowa brothers and sisters have gone further west and I do not know when we will meet up with them again.

“Our small numbers mean that there will be fewer choices of mates. Our ban on marrying blood kin will mean that we will be forced to do one of two things; we must go find the other Kiowa or…” He swallowed hard. “Be absorbed by our Lakota kin. Already Sky Dancer and She Sings have gone to live with them. Hummingbird will come live with me once we marry, but our children will still be half-Lakota.”

Growling Wolf sighed. “I have also thought of this, but I do not have a solution right now. I will do as you ask and keep our oral traditions alive.”

“Thank you.”

He handed Growling Wolf his coffee and checked the water in the pot. It was just beginning to simmer. Carefully, he filled two water containers made out of soft doe stomachs and tied them off tightly. He sat them off to the side and poured some coffee for himself.

They spoke of Willow and Ames’ upcoming wedding and various things concerning the camp. Cricket tested the filled water containers and found them to be the right temperature now.

“Lie down and straighten your legs,” he directed Growling Wolf.

Growling Wolf slowly complied and watched with curiosity when Cricket placed a water skin on each of his knees. Warmth seeped through his leggings to the joints and it felt very pleasant.

“Let me know when they are cool and we will see how your knees feel then,” Cricket said.

“All right. Shall I tell you a story?” Growling Wolf offered.

Cricket smiled. “Yes. I would enjoy that.”

Growling Wolf thought for a moment and then began, “When I was a brave of about your age…”

As Cricket listened, he tried to commit to memory everything the chief told him. Perhaps he could have Moonbeam write the story in one of the journals that Ames’ had given her. In fact, maybe she could write down many of their stories.

By the time Growling Wolf had finished, the water containers were cool and Cricket took them away. “How do your knees feel now?”

Growling Wolf flexed one and the pain wasn’t as bad as usual. “Much better.” He sat up. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. I do not know how long it will last, but you can do that as often as you like. The bags are yours,” Cricket said.

“I will bring payment tomorrow,” Growling Wolf said, rising. His knees didn’t crackle quite as loudly and he didn’t need assistance. “I am very grateful to you, Cricket.”

“I am always happy to help.” Cricket said.

Growling Wolf wrapped his robe around him, nodded, and went out into the night. Cricket would’ve walked him home, but he knew that Growling Wolf would’ve been offended by the offer. As he went back to making medicine, Cricket’s eyelids began to droop. He shook his head and yawned, but soon found himself nodding off again.

Knowing that it wouldn’t be good to continue when he was so tired, Cricket put away his supplies and equipment. He finished and dowsed the fire. No sooner had he stepped outside than he was greeted by the spirit child from his vision. The fine hair on his arms stood up and his shoulders prickled with gooseflesh.

The blue eyes glowed in the night and its long, flaxen hair flowed around it, as though blown around by a strong wind. Again, Cricket couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl.

“What is it, little one?” he asked.

The spirit giggled and backed away. Cricket started following the child, but it faded away into the snowy night.

“No! Do not go! What are you trying to tell me?” Cricket waited for a few moments, but the spirit didn’t come back. His shoulders sagged and he turned towards his mother’s tipi. “Bison, can you please show me what this means?” All the way home, he prayed for his spirit guide to pay him a visit and provide the answers he sought.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Willow sat in the women’s lodge, utterly bored. She hated her moon time because it interfered with her usual activities. She couldn’t hunt or repair weapons because she could taint the hunt or the power of her weapons. Repairing and beading clothing or making jewelry was tedious work that didn’t hold her attention very long. This moon time had lasted longer than usual.

Even though her flow had stopped, Willow would wait until the next day to leave the lodge, just to make sure. So, she was stuck there until morning.

The tipi flap opened and Green Leaf, Moonbeam’s mother, entered. Willow was surprised when Moonbeam followed her. The young girl kept her eyes averted, obviously embarrassed and Willow surmised that this must be her first time staying in the women’s lodge.

Willow exchanged pleasantries with the new arrivals. Green Leaf made sure that Moonbeam was settled before leaving.

Moonbeam took a tunic that she was working on out of the bag she’d brought. “I had other things to do today.”

A smile curved Willow’s lips. Moonbeam had just echoed her thoughts. “Me, too. Some women enjoy their time in here, but I do not.”

“I am happy that I am now a woman, but I was going to scrape hides and make squirrel stew for Chirping Cricket.”

“You can make him some when you leave the lodge.”

“Yes, but I had just started making it when my moon time started. I had to throw it out. All of it went to waste.”

Women were not allowed to prepare food during their moon time because if men accidentally ate it, it could adversely affect their hunting and fighting abilities.

“I see. That is too bad.” Willow watched Moonbeam hold up the tunic. “That is too big for Cricket.”

The wiry young medicine man hadn’t grown much over the last year.

“I am giving it to Ames for Christmas.”

It amazed Willow that Ames had talked their tribe into celebrating his white man’s holiday. “He loves it and it is very fun. I guess if he can believe in Sendeh, we can believe in Jesus, at least a little bit. You are very skillful. Ames will appreciate such a fine tunic.”

Moonbeam smiled. “You are very lucky to be marrying him.”

That was a preview of Winter Moon: The Paha Sapa Saga Book Two. To read the rest purchase the book.

Add «Winter Moon: The Paha Sapa Saga Book Two» to Cart