Candace McCarthy (12 page)

“I’ll be good, John,” she promised softly, rubbing him. “See how good I can be.” She bent her head and took all of him into her mouth.

He groaned as the ecstasy began to build again and so soon. She pleasured him until he was hot and throbbing and unfulfilled, but desperate for satiation. She straightened to smile at him, her violet eyes glistening with passion and promise. “Please?” she whispered.

“Yes, yes,” John rasped, his body taut and throbbing with passion. “You can go with me. Just finish what you started, damn it.”

With a mewl of happiness, Gillian continued until they were both sated, exhausted, and immensely pleased with themselves.

Joanna was convinced that, given her time away and her duty to Neville Manor, she should leave the village as soon as could be arranged. She couldn’t travel alone. She sought out her cousin’s husband, and asked Rising Bird to send word out to the nearest white settlement to find a suitable guide for her.

“I can take you,” Rising Bird said.

But Joanna wouldn’t hear of it.

“You are needed here,” she told him. “What if the Iroquois return and attack not Bear Paw’s village but Little River?”

And Joanna was concerned about Rising Bird’s reception in the English settlement. She knew firsthand how the white man regarded the Lenape people. Rising Bird was a kind man. He didn’t deserve to be treated badly, which she was sure would happen if he came with her into an English encampment.

Mary studied her cousin with sad eyes. “Must you go? We were just getting reacquainted.”

“I think it’s best,” Joanna replied. “I’ve been away from England for too long. Neville Manor is mine now. I need to return to ensure that all of my employees are well cared for.”

Her cousin was quiet after that, and Joanna could tell that the advent of her departure bothered Mary.

Joanna wished she could stay, but she had responsibilities in England, duties she’d neglected for too long. John was no doubt doing a good job in her absence, but it wasn’t fair to continue to burden the man with her affairs.

She frowned. Michael Burton would need his brother John at Burton Estates. Although John had looked forward to overseeing Neville Manor, she didn’t suppose he’d expected her to be gone this long.

How long has it been?
she wondered. In her mind, she tried counting the weeks. Had it really been seven months since she’d left England? Was it July? August? She couldn’t be sure. Time seemed to stand still in Little River. There were no schedules to follow. People simply got up and ate, went about their chores as they wished, dined as they desired, and finished their day in the same way.

It was such a peaceful and easy life, marred only by intruders such as the Iroquois who wanted to reign in terror over the land. She hoped that the problem with the Cayuga was finished, that Bear Paw and Fireheart were wrong and the enemy had no intention of coming back, at least for now.

Rising Sun finally agreed that he should stay at the village. “I will send someone to search for Mr. Grace.”

Joanna smiled. Mortimer Grace had been a wonderful guide on the journey here. She would be happy to travel again in his company. He knew the area well. She felt safe with him.

“Wa-neé-shih,”
she told him.

“You are most welcome,” he said in perfect English, which made her grin.

Later, alone with her own thoughts, Joanna realized the real reason she wanted to leave was due to Fireheart. She didn’t want to wait until the matrons decreed that Fireheart and Moon Dove would wed. Her heart couldn’t bear the pain. She didn’t want to stay and listen as the village celebrated the announcement of Fireheart’s upcoming marriage.

Why then did she feel so terrible about the prospect of leaving? Of not seeing Fireheart again? She couldn’t stop envisioning him with Moon Dove . . . holding her . . . sleeping with her . . . their joining in the most intimate way possible....

She wished she had lain with him that night. Joanna had wanted to feel him inside of her so badly, but reason had ruled for the both of them, and they’d decided to wait.

Wait for what? Now there would be no intimacy between them. She would be leaving soon and have nothing to sustain her throughout the long lonely years ahead but the memory of their brief time together.

Tears filled her eyes as she lay in the darkness, huddled within the beaver pelt lining her sleeping pallet. The night was cool for an August summer, but she suspected that the chill she felt was more from within. She knew that once she left, she might never again return, never again see Mary and Rising Bird. She would never again be able to spend time with Wild Squirrel, his wife Stormy Wind, or her good friend Little Blossom.

But the thing that most saddened her was that she knew her heart would remain in Little River forever, with her beloved Fireheart. When she returned to England, she would be but an empty shell, living in a dreary manor that had been left to her by her uncle.

“Will you walk with me?” Mary asked softly as Rising Bird left to arrange for a messenger. The brave had said he had an idea where Grace might be currently staying.

“If you’d like,” Joanna said congenially. She followed her cousin from the village onto a path that led in the opposite direction from the lake. They walked in silence for a time until Joanna spied a stream ahead. “Oh, look! Does that feed from the lake?”

Mary shrugged. “I don’t know for certain. There is a river before us. We had set up our village in a clearing near the river, and then we found the lake. Wild Squirrel thought the area near the lake a better place for the village, so we moved it.”

They had continued walking as Mary spoke. There, through a break in the trees, Joanna spied the sparkle of water.

“Is that it? Over there?” she asked.

“Yes.” Mary changed direction. “Come and I’ll show you.”

They left the path, cutting through the forest until they reached the river’s edge. The river was lovely, adequate for the needs of the Lenape people, but Joanna could see why Wild Squirrel had decided to move his village to the larger lake. From the direction of the water flow, she realized that the river emptied into the lake. It probably fed the stream they’d passed as well.

The forest was beautiful at this time of year. There had been enough rainfall to keep the foliage a bright green. The ground was dry, but not dusty either. Joanna spied wildflowers growing near a clump of briars. She thought to pick one, but decided against it when she saw the number of thorns on their stems.

Mary was silent as they walked for a time along the river. Finally, she halted and gestured to a natural seat made by an unusually low limb of a tree.

Joanna had worn her doeskin tunic that day so she hopped onto the limb easily, settling herself next to Mary once her cousin was seated.

“Joanna,” Mary began, sounding strange.

Joanna looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk. I want to know about your life in England.”

“No,” Joanna said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Joanna—”

“I can’t,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. She silently cursed her weakness. “I’m sorry.” She climbed down from the tree. “If this is why you wanted me to come—”

Mary hopped down behind her. “Don’t!” She hurried forward to clasp her young cousin’s arm. “Joanna, stop, please.” She was on the verge of tears herself as she turned Joanna to face her. “You told me that you were unhappy there,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Don’t you see? I have to know! I sent you there, and I need to know!”

Joanna stared at her cousin, and realized how upset she was. “It’s all right, Mary. I’m here and I’m fine. Whatever happened years ago, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Are you certain?” Mary asked brokenly.

Filled with sympathy, something she hadn’t expected to feel, Joanna smiled as she caught Mary’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Kihiila.”
She tugged her hand as she started back toward the village. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Mary admitted.

A shudder went through Joanna. “Thank you. I needed to hear that although it doesn’t change the fact that I must.”

“Why?”

“I have property to care for now. People who rely on me.”

“Will you come back?”

“I don’t know.” Joanna’s voice was barely a whisper. She didn’t think she could bear seeing Fireheart married to another, especially years from now when they’d have had children.

“How soon will you leave?”

“As soon as we hear from Mortimer Grace,” Joanna said.

“Does your leaving have anything to do with Fireheart?”

Joanna felt a jolt. “I don’t know what you mean—”

“You care for him. I’ve watched you.” Mary smiled.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“No!” she denied. At her cousin’s look, she lowered her gaze and admitted, “Yes.”

“I understand.”

Joanna blinked and looked at her. “You do?”

Mary nodded. “Come on. Let’s go back and spend some time together in the village before you have to leave.”

 

 

The Iroquois came in the night. They entered the village with shrill war cries, and tomahawks and war clubs raised to fight. Joanna heard the wild screams and jerked up in bed, gasping.

“Stay here,” Rising Bird ordered as he grabbed his weapons and ran out into the night.

Mary and Joanna huddled together and listened to the fighting.

Dogs barked in the compound. Joanna heard a man shriek with pain and held Mary tighter. She heard the pain-filled squeal of an animal.

“How can we just stay here?” she whispered, terrified. Her mind raced with thoughts of the others within the village. Wild Squirrel, Little Blossom, the children ...
Fireheart.

“We must listen to Rising Bird,” Mary answered. Joanna could feel her cousin’s trembling.

Were they going to die? What had happened to the Lenape guards watching the village? Had they been taken by surprise and then murdered?

Joanna pulled herself from her cousin’s arms.

“What are you doing?” Mary whispered.

“I’m going to see what’s happening.”

“No, Joanna! Stay inside,” her cousin warned as she watched the younger woman move to the door.

“I’ll just take a peek.” She raised the deer flap just a little, using the small opening to peer outside. She saw nothing at first, and then there was movement between two wigwams.

Joanna felt her heart begin to pound hard as she spied an Iroquois warrior entering the lodge across the way, and heard the screams of its occupant.

“Quick, Mary! ” Joanna cried. “Find us some weapons! An Iroquois has entered the lodge of Woman with Eyes of Hawk!”

“What!” Mary scrambled to her side after grabbing a knife and a tomahawk.

Joanna stared at the choice of weapons with horror. “Which one can you use?”

“The knife,” Mary said. “You take the tomahawk, but be careful!”

Accepting the tomahawk, Joanna found the weapon to be lighter than she’d thought. She lifted it with one hand to test her strength. “Let’s go!”

Mary caught her arm. “Where?”

“To see if we can help!”

“And get ourselves killed?”

Joanna flashed her a glance. “There is only one Iroquois, and there are two of us.”

Despite Mary’s objections, Joanna slipped from the wigwam and hurried to the next lodge. Her mouth dry with fear, she raised the door flap, and reared back in surprise at what she saw.

Woman with Eyes of Hawk stood over the prone body of the Iroquois warrior. The matron met Joanna’s gaze and grinned. “Stupid Cayuga didn’t know that this matron is good with a war club.”

Joanna saw then that the woman had a war club of her own, one she’d apparently held in readiness should someone enter and attack. Her fear receding slightly, Joanna grinned at the older woman. Her grin became a chuckle.

“Is he dead?” Mary asked, coming in from behind.

Woman with Eyes of Hawk shook her head. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “He is not dead. We will leave his death to our village men.”

“Shouldn’t we tie him up then?” Joanna asked. The other women agreed. While they worked to bind the man with ropes made of sinew, the sounds of fighting within the village continued.

Joanna shivered when she heard a child’s cry, followed by a woman’s scream. She stood, after securing her piece of sinew on the Indian, and regarded the two women with wide eyes.

“We just can’t wait here!” she said, hugging herself with her arms.

Woman with Eyes of Hawk rose and patted her shoulder. “It will be over soon.”

“That is what scares me.” Joanna picked up the tomahawk from where she had set it down earlier.

“Our men will win. They have prepared for this.”

Mary and Joanna exchanged glances, each hoping that the old matron was right.

The village became silent suddenly, and Joanna felt the eerie quiet more than the noise. “What’s happening?” she whispered, going to the door.

“No,” Mary said. “Stay away from the doorway. We’ll know the situation soon enough.”

Suddenly, they heard a loud, keening wail right outside the door flap. It was the sound of a pain so deep that it raised the hair on Joanna’s arms and neck. Startled, she hurried to look outside.

“Joanna!” She heard Mary’s hushed warning cry, but Joanna refused to listen. She had to know who that was.

She moved the door flap, ready to spring to someone’s defense, then halted. The sight before her shocked her. It was Rising Bird’s wild cry she’d heard. He stood peering into his wigwam, looking grief-stricken.

Joanna understood the situation immediately “Rising Bird!” she cried.

He spun at the sound, his expression frantic. Then he saw Joanna with his wife and the old matron behind her, and joy entered his features. “Mary!” he cried.

With a low moan of understanding, Mary swept past Joanna and into her husband’s open arms.

Woman with Eyes of Hawk moved closer to Joanna. “He thought that you both had been kidnapped.”

Joanna nodded, moved by the emotional display of love between Mary and her husband. “They love each other.”

“Kihiila,”
the old woman said, moving to Joanna’s side. “It is a bond such as this that you wish for your own.”

Surprised, Joanna glanced over at Woman with Eyes of Hawk. She opened her mouth to protest, but found herself nodding instead. “It must be wonderful to be loved that much.”