bound to him for a lifetime to soothe his anger over their deaths.
Not to love her. Never that.
But somehow, somewhere, between his anguished confession of hatred and the last time she had lain in his arms, his body joined as one with hers, he'd come to realize he would never be happy without this woman in his life.
And he'd also realized he couldn't ever have her.
Not without bringing the wrath of the Horse Soldiers down upon their village as had happened to so many others over the past ten winters. As much as he hated to admit it, Black Crow was right about that. He'd been naive ever to think otherwise. He'd been thinking through his rut, not his wisdom.
Now he was thinking through both, and it was pure torture.
He went without sleep that night, and in the morning he ate nothing as the others filled themselves with fresh trout and cool spring water. He thought of the sharp taste of
Pale As Moonlight's arsenic beans and wondered about this southamerica she said they came from. There was so much their peoples had to teach each other. It was a shame no one had the desire to listen any more. Only to hate and to kill.
He decided he would listen. To his own heart, and the spirit of the earth and skies. See what they had to say about this situation.
Pounding some soap root from his medicine pouch, he carefully bathed in the stream they had camped beside. Next he dressed in his breechclout, looped the sweetgrass rope over his head and wound it around his shoulder. His rifle he handed to Whistling Hills. He only wanted his war club with him on this quest. He went and retrieved it from its place by his sleeping blanket, and squatted next to the fire. Pulling the lock of Pale As Moonlight's hair from his leather pouch, he used a ball of hot pitch from a fire log to attach the long strands to the narrow end of his club, right next to the bunch of eagle feathers and buffalo hair. When he got back to the village, he would do it properly, but he needed her magic with him now.
The others watched him in respectful silence, knowing without being told what he was doing. They would be as bound by the vision he sought as he would be himself. It was the way of things.
Standing Bear was inexorably drawn to the forest perimeter where the trail of wagons wound its way up the foothills toward the great mountains. He rode his pony along the line, carefully keeping to the trees so no one would spot him as he searched for the wagon Pale As Moonlight walked alongside. As he had yesterday, he wondered why she and her sister didn't have their own wagon. He frowned. He should know such things about her.
Then he saw her.
She walked along, arm in arm with her sister -- a beautiful but timid-looking creature. His eyes settled on Pale As Moonlight, and he just watched her for a long time, keeping pace in the shadows of the pine forest. Her walk was smooth and supple, like spring water flowing over the dusty trail beneath her feet. Her golden hair was mostly hidden by a cloth bonnet and he felt a knife-prick of impatience. He suddenly needed to see her hair falling free and loose over his arms, her pale skin reposing against the darkness of his own. He needed to feel her warm body nestled right up against him. He needed her taste swirling in his mouth.
Without thinking, he whistled to her.
She stopped short, yanking the other woman to a halt, and stared in his direction. A short, rapid discussion followed. Pale As Moonlight gave her sister a long hug, then broke free and sprang toward him. She tore the ugly bonnet from her head and flung it to the breeze. He smiled. It did his heart good to see the sun dancing in her eyes as she ran to him. Whatever happened after the Trading Day, he would always have the memory of the love in her eyes as she ran to him today.
Love. He slid from his pony, knowing the truth of it.
She loved him as surely as he wanted her with him.
He looked
Not to love her. Never that.
But somehow, somewhere, between his anguished confession of hatred and the last time she had lain in his arms, his body joined as one with hers, he'd come to realize he would never be happy without this woman in his life.
And he'd also realized he couldn't ever have her.
Not without bringing the wrath of the Horse Soldiers down upon their village as had happened to so many others over the past ten winters. As much as he hated to admit it, Black Crow was right about that. He'd been naive ever to think otherwise. He'd been thinking through his rut, not his wisdom.
Now he was thinking through both, and it was pure torture.
He went without sleep that night, and in the morning he ate nothing as the others filled themselves with fresh trout and cool spring water. He thought of the sharp taste of
Pale As Moonlight's arsenic beans and wondered about this southamerica she said they came from. There was so much their peoples had to teach each other. It was a shame no one had the desire to listen any more. Only to hate and to kill.
He decided he would listen. To his own heart, and the spirit of the earth and skies. See what they had to say about this situation.
Pounding some soap root from his medicine pouch, he carefully bathed in the stream they had camped beside. Next he dressed in his breechclout, looped the sweetgrass rope over his head and wound it around his shoulder. His rifle he handed to Whistling Hills. He only wanted his war club with him on this quest. He went and retrieved it from its place by his sleeping blanket, and squatted next to the fire. Pulling the lock of Pale As Moonlight's hair from his leather pouch, he used a ball of hot pitch from a fire log to attach the long strands to the narrow end of his club, right next to the bunch of eagle feathers and buffalo hair. When he got back to the village, he would do it properly, but he needed her magic with him now.
The others watched him in respectful silence, knowing without being told what he was doing. They would be as bound by the vision he sought as he would be himself. It was the way of things.
Standing Bear was inexorably drawn to the forest perimeter where the trail of wagons wound its way up the foothills toward the great mountains. He rode his pony along the line, carefully keeping to the trees so no one would spot him as he searched for the wagon Pale As Moonlight walked alongside. As he had yesterday, he wondered why she and her sister didn't have their own wagon. He frowned. He should know such things about her.
Then he saw her.
She walked along, arm in arm with her sister -- a beautiful but timid-looking creature. His eyes settled on Pale As Moonlight, and he just watched her for a long time, keeping pace in the shadows of the pine forest. Her walk was smooth and supple, like spring water flowing over the dusty trail beneath her feet. Her golden hair was mostly hidden by a cloth bonnet and he felt a knife-prick of impatience. He suddenly needed to see her hair falling free and loose over his arms, her pale skin reposing against the darkness of his own. He needed to feel her warm body nestled right up against him. He needed her taste swirling in his mouth.
Without thinking, he whistled to her.
She stopped short, yanking the other woman to a halt, and stared in his direction. A short, rapid discussion followed. Pale As Moonlight gave her sister a long hug, then broke free and sprang toward him. She tore the ugly bonnet from her head and flung it to the breeze. He smiled. It did his heart good to see the sun dancing in her eyes as she ran to him. Whatever happened after the Trading Day, he would always have the memory of the love in her eyes as she ran to him today.
Love. He slid from his pony, knowing the truth of it.
She loved him as surely as he wanted her with him.
He looked
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