Broken Wings (7 page)

He dropped his gaze as he lifted his
shirt and revealed a superficial wound that had trickled a bit of
blood.

Her throat seemed to close up. She
choked out the words, “you are hurt!”

Tajan grabbed her hand and held it away
from the lesion. “It is nothing.”

Great. His male ego was alive and well.
“Oh, don’t do that. You took care of me…now let me do the same for
you.”

“
I…” He seemed to be
searching for the right words in English. “Not hurt.”

Maggie wanted to take care of him, like
he’d done for her. But getting him to let that happen was about to
give her a headache from banging her head against his steadfast
wall of ego.

As far as Tajan was concerned, he
wasn’t hurt. He didn’t need any help. But, he’d allow her to mend
his clothing, if that was her wish.

Maggie had gotten the sewing supplies
from Tajan’s mother. And now, she was back in his lodge mending his
clothing.

The equivalent of the English word
amazing
crossed his thoughts in his native language. She
truly was the most alluring creature he’d ever seen, and something
about her made him crazy.

He was no longer content being one of
the happy-go-lucky unmarried men in the tribe. The idea of charming
all the girls and committing to none had lost its appeal. Now, the
only thing that brought him pleasure was the thought of coming back
to the campsite and finding Maggie in his lodge.

When she finished mending his garment
she singed the thick, coarse thread with the heat of the fire, then
turned the shirt right side out and moved closer to him. She draped
the garment against her chest and looked at him. “What do you
think?” she asked, looking down at the shirt and then back up at
him again. “Not bad, huh?” The sparkle in her green eyes spilled
out onto her face and tugged up the corners of her
mouth.

He took the shirt, inspected her
handwork and then looked back at her. “It is good.” He nodded.
“Thank you.”

* * *

That evening Maggie lay in her bedding
on the other side of the fire from Tajan. He was sleeping, or at
least she thought so. The glow of the flames cast a dim light over
his appealing face that was rawboned and free of any signs of
whiskers.

She liked looking at him when he was
sleeping. She didn’t have to worry about him catching her staring
or anything embarrassing like that. Her judgment was captivated,
imprisoned by thoughts of the man who’d saved her. It left her
daydreaming about the possibilities of what tomorrow could
bring.

By all accounts she should be afraid of
him. And maybe she was—a little—in the beginning. Tajan had made it
easy though, for her to quickly see that she had nothing to fear
from him.

The light of the fire cast a dim glow
over his brown skin. Her gaze traveled across his body, eyeing the
rippled physique of his well-defined torso. His dark hair cascaded
down past his shoulders. She fancied the notion of running her
fingers through it to see if it was as thick and as coarse as it
looked. She wanted that long hair, no matter what its texture, to
hang down over her face while he towered above her as they made
love.

~~~~

CHAPTER 13

The days continued to flutter away. But
Maggie couldn’t muster the desire to go home. After spending the
last few weeks with Tajan, she wanted to stay with him forever. And
they hadn’t even kissed, much less anything else.

She wondered if the Indians kissed each
other? If they did, they did it in private. She’d never seen
anything more than passing glances from the couples as they went
about their daily business. She wanted Tajan to look at her that
way, even if it was only fleeting.

Possessing such contentment for her
newfound home, she’d taken to wearing Indian garb quite some time
ago. She found great pleasure in taking part in the tribe’s way of
life.

Sitting crossed-legged between Tajan’s
mother and his aunt, Maggie was contented while learning their art
of beadwork. Everyone added their own special touch to the pouches
they were making out of deerskin; an art that Timeko had been
brought to the tribe. He’d taught Tajan’s mother, Lela, how to do
it and soon all the women in the tribe were eager to
learn.

And now, Lela taught Maggie. To the
delight of both Lela and her sister, the young white girl had
turned out to be a quick study. When Maggie was done, she ended up
with a satisfactory pouch adorned in red, yellow, and blue
beadwork.

Lela wanted Maggie to feel comfortable
with the tribe. She knew Tajan was falling for the young white
woman. She saw it in his eyes. First, when he talked about her, and
later—every time he looked at her. She had a pretty good idea that
Maggie felt the same way. And since they both were moving painfully
slow, she decided she’d have to give them a little push.

Maggie inspected her handiwork. “Now
what do I do with it?”

“
Give to Tajan,” Lela coaxed
in English.

Sure, okay
. Maggie gave a little
shrug and pushed herself up from the ground. She went to look for
him and found him inside his lodge, stacking firewood for the
coming days. Maggie had been living in his dwelling, but they had
not shared a bed.

Tajan glanced at her. The light in his
eyes agreed with the smile that came to his mouth.

Maggie went to him; the heat of her
blush singeing her cheeks. She had a hard time making eye contact.
She didn’t know why. She just did. “Here.” She handed him the
pouch. “This is for you.” She cleared her throat, surprised by the
amount of nervous anxiety mounting inside her. “Your mother taught
me how to make it.”

He leapt to his feet. “You make for
me?” He touched her fingertips as he took the pouch. “Does my
mother tell you what it means to give to me?”

Her forehead wrinkled.

A disappointed fell over him. “She does
not.” He released the pouch back into Maggie’s hands. “The
women…they make these for husband,” he said. “Or, for the one they
wish to be husband.”

Great. Maggie felt the flush that she
was certain was blistering bright red across her face. Did he have
any idea she lay awake at night dreaming about him having his way
with her? “Well, I guess the significance doesn’t really matter,
does it?” She hoped her tone was a trivial as her words. “I made it
for you.” She offered the pouch to him again. “Do you want it or
not?”

~~~~

CHAPTER 14

Tajan and Maggie spent much of their
free time at a place that would one day be known as Vista Point.
Huge rocks and boulders had been placed amid the trees with such
aesthetic strategy, it was as if the gods themselves had put them
there. Off in the distance, the lake served as a magnificent
backdrop with snow-covered mountains towering behind it.

They were sitting side-by-side on the
edge of a boulder jutting out of the ground like a
bench.

“
I really don’t know how to
thank you for everything that you’ve done for me,” she said, her
tone oozing with the gratefulness she felt.

He had his arms crossed downward in
front of him and he was holding onto one wrist with the other hand.
“You are welcome,” he said, crooking his head sideways to look at
her.

“
Why don’t you keep the
money I had on me…when you found me.” She marveled at the notion,
realizing what she’d suggested. Where in the hell had that came
from? She didn’t want to leave. Then again, maybe staying wasn’t as
much of an option as she’d initially hoped. She’d been there for
weeks and he’d never attempted, not once, to lay a finger on her.
Like now for instance. Their legs had brushed together more than
once. Instead of taking her in his arms, he was holding them
prisoner at his lap; while she was dying to feel the heat of his
bare skin against hers.

“
You go away?” There was a
weakness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before.

“
It’s probably time that I
get out of your hair.” She made the mistake of looking at him. One
look into his dark eyes, beautiful like black silk, and she
couldn’t help herself. No way she could leave without touching him.
Feeling the tears moistening her eyes, she trailed her fingertips
over his cheek and down his jaw.

He draped his hand over hers, pressing
her palm against his face. “You stay with me,” he said, and it was
no question. “You be my wife. I take care of you...never
hurt.”

Tears splashed from her eyes and fell
down onto her cheeks. Her heart hammered gleefully.

He pulled her against him. “Maggie…do
not leave me.” His whispers blew hot against her cheek. He
tightened his embrace and let his caresses explore a body that was
more than willing to accept his touch.

“
I can’t think of any place
I’d rather be,” she said. “Or anything I’d rather do than stay here
and be your wife.”

He leaned back far enough to keep her
pressed firmly against him with one arm, and freeing up the other
to reach for the pouch hanging at his side.

Tajan pulled a beautifully detailed
turquoise necklace and offered it to her.

“
This is for me?” She took
the magnificent piece of jewelry. “It’s beautiful.”

He fastened the necklace around her
neck and turned her around, pulling her back into his arms.
Invading her mouth with his, he kissed her for the first
time.

Their lips touched, stealing Maggie’s
breath away. His soft, sensual kisses robbed her of every ounce of
reasoning she could ever hope to possess.

Tangling his fingers in her silky
smooth hair, his need to have her ached for relief. He’d wanted her
from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. But Tajan wasn’t the
type of man to push himself on a woman. And the last thing he
wanted to do was scare her away. Instead, he’d resolved to bide his
time and wait until the moment was right. His patience had finally
paid off.

Maggie wanted him and she wanted him
now. She’d lain awake too many nights. Wondering.

“
You said—” Between his
kisses she spoke in an almost whisper. “—you wanted me to be your
wife. How exactly do we make that happen?” That must have been what
he was waiting for.

“
It happened when you said
yes.”

“
That’s it?” She froze, and
stared up at him. “You mean we’re married?”

“
Is that what the white man
calls it?” He flashed her an enticing grin.

“
Yes.” She felt the need to
lay down some ground rules. “You know…later on...you can’t toss me
aside now that you’ve made this commitment.”

Tajan rubbed her red locks between his
fingers. “We belong to each other.” He gave her hair a little tug,
pulling her toward him. “You have my heart. Forever.” He brushed
his lips against hers.

“
I’m interested in more than
your heart right now.” She trailed her fingertips over his chest
and traced the contours of the rock-solid muscles rippling over his
stomach.

“
You wish to go back to the
village?”

“
No…” She let out a soft
moan. “Here. Here is fine.”

Tajan scanned the area and ended up
yanking the blankets off their horses. He laid them out on a flat
boulder and then turned back to her. “You are sure?”

She grabbed his arms, pulling him with
her as she lay down on the blankets. Just as she’d imagined so many
times before, his hair cascaded down in a curtain of black rain
falling all around her face. It was thick, to be sure, but there
was nothing coarse or rough about it. It caressed her face and
shoulders with a silky-softness as he moved above her.

When the ritual was complete, joining
the soul mates together forever, Tajan lay over Maggie in a state
of sheer tranquility. She made no attempt to move her legs, still
wrapped around him. Neither of them were capable of moving, nor did
they care to.

Many things ran through her mind at
that time, but her home in California or her background weren’t
among them. Anything that crept into her thoughts wasn’t allowed to
stay unless it was centered around Tajan.

He, on the other hand, knew she was
hiding from something—or someone. And if he had to guess, he’d say
it wasn’t good. Not from her people’s standpoint, anyway. But he
didn’t care what her people thought; or his people either for that
matter. All he knew was, she’d walked into his life and now
everything had a purpose. Everything he did, he did with her in
mind.

What joined together in those two that
day would prove to be a bond that would last forever.

~~~~

CHAPTER 15

Now that Maggie was Tajan’s wife she
was quite content and felt rather at home, living with him amongst
the Washoe. The thought of leaving him wasn’t something she allowed
herself to contemplate. Still, the guilt was there—over her family
in California worrying about her. It ached, clawed and scratched,
trying to break free.