An icy chill whipped through Meadow. She knew Black Horse meant every word he said, and she had no doubts that he was prepared to face the consequences. If he went against Sitting Bull’s orders, he could be cast out of the tribe, and she along with him, if they were married.
Letting his words settle in her mind, Meadow turned away from him and stared out at the calm waters of the river. Life here could be so peaceful and easy if the Canadians would allow them to stay. But she knew that would not happen. When they were forced to return to the other side of the border, they would undoubtedly encounter the same hatred they had run away from in the first place. Meadow exhaled a burdened sigh as she tried to imagine what the future might hold for the Sioux, or even if they would have a future at all.
“Do you think you are strong enough—brave enough—to be the woman of a war chief?” he asked as he moved up behind her.
She was much smaller than he was, and he could almost rest his chin on the top of her head. Meadow could feel his breath touch lightly against her hair. She yearned for his arms to encircle her, to turn her around, and for him to kiss her until her lips begged for mercy. But he was waiting to hear her say the words
that would tell him that she truly understood what he must do, and that nothing—or no one—could stop him.
Her buttocks were brushing against his thigh, and her knees felt almost too wobbly to hold her weight. Still, the thought of him leaving her to go into another battle with the whites dominated her thoughts. She heard him draw in a heavy breath. When he exhaled, the warmth of his breath engulfed her. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and infusing every inch of her own body with a raging wildfire. But there was so much more involved here than the immense physical attraction they felt for each other.
She recalled a discussion she’d had with White Buffalo earlier that day, when he had paid her a visit shortly before the wedding ceremony. He had told her how proud he was to have her as his daughter. As he often did, he spoke of the hardships and pain their people had suffered, of how uncertain every day of their lives was, and of how important it was for them to live each day as if there might never be another tomorrow.
White Buffalo also explained why he wanted her to marry Black Horse, and he had asked her to forgive him for his selfishness for wanting her to stay with the Sioux forever. As she thought about the conversation she had had with White Buffalo, her thoughts kept wandering to the handsome man who stood so close, and to the question he had just asked her: are you strong enough and brave enough to be the wife of a war chief? She wondered why she hesitated so long in answering. There was only one choice she could make. “
Sha
,” she answered as she turned to face her warrior.
“You give me the courage and the strength to face anything, as long as I know that you are at my side. I love you, Black Horse, and nothing else matters.”
For a few seconds he seemed too surprised by her admission to make another move. When his instincts took over, though, he clasped her by the shoulders and pulled her toward him. Her head tilted back and her gaze met his for just an instant before his mouth descended on her waiting mouth. Meadow’s response to his kiss was immediate. Letting him pull her tighter into his embrace, Meadow allowed her passion for this man rule all of her actions. The strict customs of their people did not enter her mind, nor would she permit them to interfere with the plans for to night. In her mind, and in her heart, she would become his woman with or without the completion of a wedding ceremony. The white blanket fell into a crumpled heap at their feet.
Instinctively, Meadow’s arms slid up to encircle his neck. She did not resist when he crushed her body against his. The way he kissed her now was completely different from the tender kisses they had shared before, and as his mouth seemed to devour hers, she mimicked his actions with exuberance. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she was unsure how to react, but after it began to tease and entwine with hers, she discovered she was enjoying this strange new game. She was not hesitant to let Black Horse teach her the ways of love, and she eagerly let her own tongue begin to taunt his as they continued the wet, heated kiss.
Though his kisses caused the most wondrous sensations to erupt throughout her body, they were almost
forgotten when Meadow felt his hands moving down to her waist and then along the curve of her hips. She gasped inwardly when she realized he had grabbed onto the fringe on the bottom of her dress, and was now raising the garment past her thighs. She wore nothing under her wedding dress, and his large hands eagerly clutched at her bare buttocks. He pulled her even closer as his fingers kneaded her soft skin. A moment of panic and fear gripped Meadow when she felt the rock-hard core of his manhood pressing against her stomach.
Fleetingly, she remembered all the strict rules that governed the women of her tribe. She made a feeble attempt to pull away, but he ignored her efforts, and she quickly gave up the weak fight.
Black Horse seemed vaguely aware of her mild protests. Tearing his lips away, then drawing in a ragged breath, he leaned back slightly. “Did you change your mind—?”
“Never,” she interrupted without hesitation. She was vitally aware of the way his hands still clasped her buttocks, and even more aware of the way his manhood was no longer throbbing against her stomach. “But I can’t help being a little frightened,” she said in a raspy voice. Her mind whirled with indecision while her body sang with new and wanton yearnings.
A tired sigh escaped from Black Horse. He did not release his tight hold on her. “I know, and I understand your feelings,” he admitted. “But if not for the Mountie, we would be married right now. And we should be living in our own homelands and carrying on the customs that have ruled our people since the beginning of time.” Black Horse’s voice was just a
whisper as he added, “Nothing will ever be the same again for the Sioux. All that matters now is survival and this…” His head tilted down as his lips claimed hers in another demanding kiss.
Black Horse’s words had almost the same meaning as the things White Buffalo had said to her before the wedding, and at this moment their reasoning had never made more sense. There might not be a future for the Sioux, and tomorrow might never come…and tonight was all that mattered.
Without further delay, Meadow raised her arms up as Black Horse lifted her dress up over her head. A shiver claimed her as the chill of the autumn night brushed against her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as anticipation and nervousness made her entire body quiver. She crossed her arms over her breasts when she no longer had her dress to cover her. Black Horse reached out and pushed her arms back down to her sides. An intense anxiety bolted through Meadow as she stood completely exposed before him. Even in the near darkness, she could see the twinkle in his dark eyes as he closely surveyed her trembling body. The smile on his face suggested that he definitely liked what he saw.
When he reached out to her again, she eagerly sought his arms. She felt her bare breasts flatten against his hard body, felt his swollen, hard manhood straining against his breechcloth again. There was no turning back.
Black Horse let his hands roam freely over her soft skin. He could feel her tremble, and he could sense her
complete surrender. An anxious quiver shot through him as he thought about the beautiful sight of her firm young body. The silken paleness of Meadow’s skin excited him more than he’d ever thought possible. He wanted to make her his woman now in every way, without another moment’s hesitation.
In a single movement, Black Horse pulled his breechcloth away from his hips. He tossed it into the darkness of the night.
The warmth of his bare manhood touched Meadow, and jumbled thoughts of the whisperings she had heard from the women of the tribe regarding the intimacy they shared with their husbands, combined with the realization of what he would soon be doing to her, made her knees grow weak. Not one coherent thought entered her head as she felt Black Horse begin to lower her down to the ground. She glimpsed the moon in the starlit sky overhead for just an instant before his kisses stole away the sight. She clung to him, unsure and frightened, yet too overwhelmed with desire to stop him.
This magical night, the moon overhead and this man were her entire world at this moment.
When his hips settled between her thighs, Meadow was vitally aware of the tip of his manhood pressing into her most private parts. She knew there would be pain; she had heard new wives talk about their first night with their husbands. With this thought, she tried to brace herself as he pressed farther inside her. His mouth covered hers again in a kiss that demanded her complete attention. Within the next instant his hips
plunged down, and a searing pain ripped through her body. Her shocked cry was stolen away by his kiss, but the pain was worse than she had imagined.
Black Horse remained inside her for a time, unmoving, as he let her adjust to the invasion. But just as quickly as it had exploded inside her, the searing pain began to subside. Then, slowly, he began to rock his hips up and down until her stiff body began to relax.
Even though he was still kissing her, Meadow was only aware of the awakening sensations in her body. Now that the pain had faded away, she was experiencing an ache of a different nature. With each of his deep plunges she felt as if something uncontrollable was building up inside of her. She let her hips arch up to meet his. They began to move in unison, melding tightly together as if they were one.
Black Horse’s kisses had ceased, and it felt to Meadow that his total concentration now was on driving himself down into her. Clinging to him as they moved together, Meadow lost touch with anything other than the overpowering passion she would never again be able to deny. She felt his movements grow more intense and held on tighter, clenching her teeth together to keep from crying out as ecstasy swept through her.
Black Horse could not hold back any longer. Giving into the raging need that had climaxed to the highest summit, he released himself with abandonment. With a shudder, he began to relax against Meadow. He felt her grow limp in his embrace and sigh with contentment. For a moment, he was content, too.
Tonight, as he had planned, he had made Meadow
his woman. But now, as he had not planned, she had also awakened something in him. He knew for certain now that he would not be able to leave her behind when he left here—not even for a little while. But he would not give up on his war against the
wasichu
either. From this day forth, he decided, this woman would ride at his side. Then, he would know the true extent of her devotion to his people…and to him.
With the first hazy gray streaks of dawn came another awakening of their passion as Black Horse made love to her for the third time since they had met at the riverbank the night before. Each time they indulged in this sensual ritual, Meadow noticed that his actions became more loving and more attuned to her pleasure. He explored every inch of her body, and then taught her how to touch him and please him in the same manner. By morning, she had no doubts about the night they had just spent together or about her love for this man.
Meadow found it incredible that such a fierce warrior could also be such a considerate and gentle lover. The things he taught her and the feelings he aroused went far beyond the physical contact they shared. She knew she had found her life’s mate…her reason for living. And she knew Black Horse was also growing to love her as much as she loved him. His actions were proof. Knowing this man loved her would be the strength she could draw upon, no matter what the uncertain future held.
“You are so beautiful, my green-eyed woman, inside and out,” Black Horse whispered as he held her close.
Meadow snuggled up against him. They had used a patch of soft grass for a flimsy mattress, and the white blanket to cover themselves. The blanket did not pro
vide them with much protection from the chilly early-morning air, and the ground beneath them was cold from the nighttime temperature.
“So are you,” Meadow replied.
“Men are not beautiful,” he retorted indignantly.
“In my eyes you are beautiful,” she answered. A smile curved her lips when she heard Black Horse huff at her comment. She knew he would never agree with her, but everything about this man—his dangerously handsome appearance, of course, but also his strong beliefs and his exuberant passion—all made him beautiful in her mind.
“We need to find White Buffalo,” Black Horse said, his voice growing serious. “I will ask him to marry us quickly so that you will not be considered a loose woman.” He pinched her nose teasingly, adding, “I would hate to see that pretty nose cut off.”
A fiery blush rushed through Meadow’s face, and her nose twitched at his implication. Women who did not behave according to Sioux etiquette were sometimes disfigured so that everyone would know they had been disobedient, adulterous or loose with their feminine wiles. Sioux men, however, could have as many wives as pleased them, and it was not considered immoral. Meadow planned to be the only woman Black Horse would ever need.
Now, however, she knew the time had come to be accountable for the previous night. She just hoped White Buffalo would understand and forgive them, because Meadow knew that she would not do one thing differently, if she had a choice.
“He will be at the rock bluff overlooking the river at this time of the morning,” she said reluctantly. White
Buffalo went to the bluff most mornings at the crack of dawn to contemplate the plight of their people and to seek inspiration. Some days he would have a vision, which he would anxiously repeat as soon as he returned to the village. In the past, Little Squirrel and Meadow would eagerly await his return so that they could listen to his amazing stories.
“Would this be a good time to approach him?”
Meadow shivered. “No time will be good to tell him that I have disgraced him.”
“Do you regret—?”
“No,” Meadow cut him off before he could finish. Black Horse’s hold on her tightened as she added, “Not one single minute of last night.”
“If not for that Mountie…” Black Horse said between clenched teeth.
Meadow felt the way his body stiffened. She understood his anger, because she felt the same way toward the man who had interrupted their wedding. Her feelings, however, were not so intense and deadly. Right now, she just wanted the episode with the Mountie to be forgotten, and with any luck, they would never have to see that man again. But most of all she wanted to be Black Horse’s wife as soon as possible.
“I would prefer to talk to my father when he is alone, rather than once he is back at the village.”
Black Horse mumbled his agreement, but Meadow sensed that his thoughts were still focused on the Mountie.
“We should go now,” she added.
A sharp pang had shot through Black Horse’s chest when Meadow said that she had disgraced her father.
He wanted her to feel pride and joy on this first day as his woman, not disgrace. Her torment filled him with a feeling of guilt, leaving him more determined than ever to make her happy and proud to belong to him. It was hard for him to not blame the Mountie for all their problems, but now was not the time to dwell on the revenge he would seek if he ever encountered the man again.
Forcing his thoughts back to the present situation, Black Horse eased his tense hold on Meadow. He turned away when his gaze met her worried one. A heavy frown settled on his face as he thought about White Buffalo’s probable reaction to their passionate night together. Telling the old medicine man about their impulsive behavior was not a task he was looking forward to. Still, he wanted to do it soon, so that the matter would be behind them and they could live their lives together without scandal.
“Do you wish to bathe in the river first?” he asked, reluctant to leave this special spot. “But maybe we shouldn’t take the time,” he decided. There would be more than bathing going on if he was in the water with this beauty, and they had more important business to attend to now. He sighed heavily and released his hold on her.
Meadow nodded in agreement and clutched her dress against her breast as she sat up. His smoldering look told her that he was thinking along the same lines as she was about the two of them taking a bath together.
As the morning sun peeked over the horizon and began to brighten the countryside with its golden rays, Meadow’s natural modesty claimed her.
Black Horse, however, did not grant her one moment of privacy as she dressed. His raven gaze glistened like black diamonds while he watched her every move, and he chuckled boldly when he caught her sneaking a peak at him when he stood up to put on his breechcloth. Since Meadow had already determined that bashfulness was not a trait he possessed, she was not surprised when Black Horse made sure he presented her with a full frontal view once again, just as he had on the first day they had been in almost this exact same spot. She could feel her face grow red with embarrassment. The instant he looked at her, his yearning to make love to her again became evident; his swollen manhood protruded shamelessly against the white material of his loose-hanging breechcloth.
Meadow tried to avert her eyes from him, but that did not erase the virile image of him from her mind. If only one night with this man filled her with such great passion and longing, she wondered how she would ever function as a normal person again, once she was allowed to spend the rest of her life in his arms. Maybe, once they were properly married, they could just spend every night—and every day—among the soft furs in their tepee. The wanton thought made the glorious ache in her loins throb unmercifully.
With a loud cough, Black Horse made an attempt to bring his racing emotions under control. What this woman did to him was causing him more than a little concern. How could he continue to be a ruthless war chief and a leader of his people, if the only thing he could concentrate on from this day forth was corralling this green-eyed woman in his arms?
Black Horse reached down and picked up the white blanket and threw it over his shoulder. “It’s time to go see White Buffalo now, or else we might never leave.” He let his gaze meet with Meadow’s for an instant before they began to walk hand in hand away from the spot where they had spent their first night of lovemaking. As their eyes met now he felt an engulfing sense of oneness. He trembled at the realization that he would never feel whole again unless he was with this woman.
They walked in silence through the forest, enjoying every sight and sound around them on this glorious day. The Canadian forest was in full bloom with autumn growth. The last of this season’s wild flowers in hues of yellow, blue and white opened their petals toward the sun, and the tall blades of grass shimmered in shades of bright green as the last dewdrops evaporated with the warming of the air. The day was flawless—at least where the weather was concerned.
“We were so close to finishing our wedding vows that I really do believe my father will understand why we had to be together last night,” Meadow said as they neared their destination. Her trembling voice did not sound as convincing as she had hoped.
White Buffalo sat atop a large boulder. If not for his graying hair, he could almost have been mistaken for a much younger man. His back was completely straight, his legs crossed with his arms resting upon his thighs, and his head was tilted upward toward the sky. He did not seem aware of anything around him.
“I had hoped you would come here to see me this morning,” the old medicine man said without opening his eyes or moving.
His unexpected words caused Black Horse and Meadow to halt abruptly. They remained rooted to the spot until the older man finally lowered his head and opened his eyes to look down at them. Only the loud chattering of an angry squirrel in a nearby pine tree broke the silence of the morning.
In an attempt to break the awkwardness, Meadow stepped forward. “Father, I—I—We—” She motioned toward Black Horse while her words faltered in her dry mouth.
“I know,” White Buffalo said with a slow nod of his head. He stared at his daughter for a second, and then glanced at Black Horse. “And I do understand.” He saw the tense look fade from the young chief’s face as their eyes met. “As I’ve told Meadow before, I was young once, too.” He smiled. “And Little Squirrel and I looked at one another the same way I see the two of you look at one another.” He looked back at Meadow in time to see the glowing blush color her pale cheeks. Another smile curved his lips. He uncurled his legs and slid down the front of the boulder.
Standing in front of the young couple, White Buffalo focused his attention on Meadow. He noticed she stared down at the ground as if she was ashamed to look at him. With a gentle touch he lifted her chin up. Her troubled expression, along with the wide array of emotions he could glimpse in the depths of her jeweled gaze, told him the extent of her shame—and also how much she cared for the powerful man who stood at her side.
The knowledge that she was falling so deeply in love with Black Horse was proof that intuition had not
failed him. A wide smile claimed his mouth as relief flooded through him. He had gotten this one right.
“Do not regret anything,
mi-cun-ksi
,” White Buffalo said as he tenderly cupped Meadow’s small chin in his rough hand. He shook his head. “As I have told you in the past, our people do not have time for regrets. We must seize every opportunity for happiness.” He grinned again, then glanced up at Black Horse. The younger man nodded his head in agreement. White Buffalo’s attention returned to Meadow. Her worried frown had not disappeared.
“Do you want to finish getting married today, then?” White Buffalo asked.
Meadow nodded her head, because she did not trust herself to speak. A large lump had formed in her throat, and she could feel the stinging sensation of tears welling up in her eyes. White Buffalo’s kindness and understanding never ceased to amaze her. She stood on her toes and kissed him softly on the cheek. When she glanced up at him again, she noticed his eyes were also shiny with moisture. How lucky she had been to be raised as his daughter.
“I have the authority to perform the marriage ceremony, if you want me to do it,” White Buffalo suggested.
“Can you conduct the ceremony right now?” Black Horse asked.
White Buffalo nodded his head. “Yes, we need to finish what was started yesterday—to right the wrong that was done to both of you by the soldier.” He glanced at Meadow again, then looked back to Black
Horse. “But I would like to talk to my daughter first. Will you give us a few moments of privacy? We’ll meet you at our tepee soon, and then we’ll get on with the important business of getting you two properly married.” He motioned toward the white blanket that still hung over Black Horse’s shoulder. “That will finally serve the purpose it was meant for,” he added with a chuckle.
Black Horse did not acknowledge the medicine man’s attempt at humor, but he did feel his face grow hot. He didn’t even glance in Meadow’s direction, because he could only imagine how embarrassed she was at this moment. He did not want to go back to the village alone. To delay this wedding any longer seemed like a bad idea to him, and as he observed the loving exchange between the medicine man and his daughter, a strange sense of urgency began to overcome him. The feeling of foreboding continued to grow inside him and made his uneasiness expand until he felt as if he couldn’t breathe.
He glanced around at the forest, then down toward the river. Everything was as calm, quiet and natural as it had been earlier. But the tightness in his chest and the fluttering in his stomach told Black Horse that something was not right. Many times his instinct had kept him from riding into an enemy ambush, or kept him safe from some other type of harm. He stared at White Buffalo for a moment longer, wondering if the medicine man sensed danger. But from White Buffalo’s expression, it was plain the old man was not experiencing the same type of anxiety that he was feeling at this time. Black Horse told himself that if a wise,
insightful man like White Buffalo did not feel uneasy, it must be only in his imagination.
“I will be waiting for you back at the camp,” Black Horse said, silently reprimanding himself for feeling so negative and afraid. As he started to walk away, he gazed once more at Meadow. Their eyes met and seemed to hold one another prisoner for several seconds. The strangling sensation passed through Black Horse again. He shivered visibly. Standing there in the glow of the early morning sun she looked so beautiful…and so vulnerable.
The vigorous night of lovemaking had left her long hair tangled around her shoulders, and she had faint purple smudges beneath her lower lashes from lack of sleep. Even now, standing here in the presence of her father, Black Horse yearned to carry her back into the forest and make love to her again. An odd sense of sadness inched through him, mingling with his feelings of desire.