Passion's Series (13 page)

"I can remember the day the warriors brought back my husband. His spirit was leaving him." Her silent sobs rocked her body as James pulled her tightly against his side.

He waited, unsure what he should do to ease her pain. Finally she took a shuddering breath and continued from her new position within his arms.

"My husband was a mighty warrior and a good husband. He knew the Great One was calling his spirit. He did not want to leave me alone." Gentle Rain's hand rose slowly toward her hair, "As I held him in my arms he spoke the soft words to me. When he breathed his last I looked into his eyes as I caught his breath into my own lungs." Her hand moved from her hair to her extended belly. "I wanted his strength to go to his son." She pushed away then and looked up at James. "His last words were, Go to my blood-brother.'"

She reached a trembling finger toward his face and wiped away a tear. James pulled her head back to his chest. After that a French man came to our village. He wanted to trade firewater to our warriors for skins. He also wanted my father to give me to him.

He thought that because I no longer had a husband my father would agree. But my father would not let him take me. The Frenchman grabbed my arm. He was going to take me without my father's permission.

My brother fought for me and for the blood cry. He killed the French man, but he died too." Gentle Rain gritted her teeth. "My father will avenge his blood, and the blood of my husband, on all French men."

The moments that followed were heavy with silence until finally she spoke again, "No warrior in my village will take me because my husband's son has not been born. I must wear my hair down and mourn until the time is up."

James' heart ached for the girl whose entry into womanhood had been so harsh, but then the Indian woman's life had always been so. "Why not stay with your father until the child is born? It may very well be a son and your mourning time would be over. Coming to me was very dangerous and may not have been necessary."

She stole a shy glance at James and lowered her eyes again, "My father has left our village to meet with the other chiefs to discuss the Frenchman at Fort Thomble. My father was afraid for me, so he took me to the trading post to wait for your return. He said you would protect me, like you did before. He said you would raise up a son for your brother."

Suddenly the large doe eyes rose to meet his fully and he could see the fear and pain they held. He knew he could not send her back to her village in shame. When he became blood brother with Soaring Eagle he became, to all intended purposes, a tribal kinsman and therefore honor-bound to uphold their customs.

"You will stay with me, Gentle Rain." With a roguish grin that had been the downfall of many a damsel, he slipped into his native brogue as he continued, speaking barely above a whisper. "If tha wee one ye carry be a sweet lass, my little darlin', then together we shall make a fine laddie who will grow up to be a mighty warrior like his father and his grandfather."

Gentle Rain did not understand the strange words, but there was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice or the promise in his eyes. As the fear and uncertainty she shouldered for so long lifted from her, she crumpled forward and wailed her relief with great catching sobs.

"Now, now, Mon petite," he cooed in the French tongue she understood. Reaching forward he pulled her into the safety of his strong arms and gently rocked her. As he wiped away her tears with one callused thumb, he sang softly to her.

Strange how the mind works at a time like this, he mused as the lyrics of an old Irish lullaby came easily to his lips. How melancholy one could become with memories of home and days of childhood long past.

He tucked her head beneath his chin. If it was destined for his son to grow to manhood without ever knowing his father and naught of his father's homeland, then he wanted him to grow up with the memories of the same sweet melodies he'd heard as a boy. The same ones he would sing to him if he were there to watch him grow.

The baby kicked so hard James felt it under his arm. He smiled and laid his hand on her rounded belly, "Lad or Lassie we may not know, darlin', but 'tis a strong little bairn to be sure."

Gentle Rain smiled and nuzzled her head beneath his chin as he leaned against the cane backrest. Soon his eyelids closed and he drifted into a troubled sleep, Gentle Rain still cradled in his arms.

Chapter Sixteen

James gave himself to his dreams. As he floated lightly above the earth he let his eyes casually scan the changing scenery below. The search became frantic, yet he did not know for what he searched.

His feet planted themselves firmly on the red bank of a wide, crooked  river. Across the river, on the far bank, he saw a panther emerge gracefully from the foliage. James knew he was looking at his own totem. The cat's blue eyes met his and they became one soul. As the panther looked back over his own shoulder James saw through the eyes of his totem.

He saw himself walking in a garden. At his side was the King of England. It was a scene from the past and James felt again the excitement of the upcoming adventure and the equally strong anxiety at facing the unknown.

The scene shifted and swirled with shades of red, which drew together into drops that fell slowly downward to splash heavily into a puddle of blood that grew between two pairs of feet. James' heart was heavy in his chest and his spirit wept as he longed to see the face of his Choctaw blood brother. The panther raised his head and roared his anger at all of life's injustices.

Again the vision shifted. When it cleared he saw New Moon, as she was when he first saw her. The way he would always see her, her chin high, and her eyes flashing with defiance. He held out his arms to her and suddenly she was there. Her body pressed fully against his own. He pulled her even tighter within his embrace, and the fear of losing her as well became so intense that the pain threatened to burst his being into a thousand lonely pieces.

She looked up into his eyes and he saw joy and contentment and shining forth from such love that its intensity staggered him.

"We are going to have a child, Red Panther," she whispered. "It grows within me now."

"Yes," he answered and was awakened by his own voice. The black eyes that looked up from their sewing were not New Moon's but those of Gentle Rain.

James smiled. What happened was not Gentle Rain's fault any more than it was his own. They were caught in a web of tradition that he dare not break. Yet he believed, for the first time, that his dream had been a vision of what was and what was to come.

He no longer believed New Moon to be barren. He no longer believed his life had to fit neatly into a well thought out plan, like one of his missions. If he'd learned anything during his stay with the natives it was that one must take his dreams seriously.

The love he felt for New Moon, and the love she would some day feel for him would bare fruit, but first he had an obligation to his blood brother.

That evening, during the naming ceremony, the holy man confirmed James' dream by giving him the warrior name,
Gi-gu-ge-c Tiv-da-tsi,
Red Panther.

As the celebration for naming new warriors continued late into the night, James took the opportunity to present Gentle Rain with the foot of a deer. She in turn gave him a cake of bread. This being done in the sight of witnesses was all that was needed to proclaim their short time marriage.

James was relived to see New Moon leave the celebration early. He did not want her to witness his claim to Gentle Rain.

As he watched the celebration taking place around him and fought the urge to go to New Moon, to take her in his arms and tell her that he loved her. He wanted to tell her that his life would not be complete without her. But this was his wedding night. It would show great dishonor to Gentle Rain if he were to go in search of another.

Gentle Rain caught his eye as she left the celebration to quietly return to their lodge. It would be expected of James to wait a short time and then he should slip away as well. James rose easily to his feet. He would go to water first.

***

New Moon made her way through the village and to the stream that ran behind Red Panther's lodge. She would much prefer to leave the village and go to visit her private place, but leaving the village at night was forbidden.

As she walked she thought about Gentle Rain. She was young, hardly old enough to be having the child she carried. From what New Moon had learned of the girl and by the way she helped the old woman, New Moon
knew her to have a good heart. She grudgingly admitted to herself that she liked the young woman.

The fact that she had not seen Gentle Rain in her vision caused New Moon much worry. Could it be that Gentle Rain would not be an obstacle to her joining with James because she would die in childbirth? New Moon shuddered.

She would offer up a prayer for Gentle Rain and chant for her safety. New Moon would not be second wife, but neither could she wish death to one so young and innocent.

Stepping around the tall cane, New Moon breathed deeply and let her eyes take in the serenity of the stream, the moonlight reflected on its still surface. She walked to the edge of the water and called out in her spirit to her warrior.

A twig snapped and a smile played about the corners of her mouth as her heart soared. Her warrior had followed her! He would take her into his arms and explain what was happening. She turned.

The change on her face was subtle as the smile became a teasing challenge and her hand went to rest on the hilt of the knife she always wore at her side. So, the handsome French man had followed her once again to the stream.

Lieutenant Smythe moved closer while he held his hands open and away from his sides.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Princess," he spoke in English.

New Moon answered with contempt. "You do not belong here, French man."

Lieutenant Smythe raised his hands up before him. "Whoa! Wait a minute, Princess. I'm not French. I'm English. In fact, I'm a friend of Red Panther's." He saw she considered his words and stepped closer.

"I have spoken to your brother," he continued. "I leave early in the morning. I would like to spend the evening with you."

"You have your dispatch and have received your orders, Lieutenant. You had best get some sleep and be gone at first light."

The lieutenant spun around at the cold tone in Colonel Fitzgerald's voice.

"Yes, sir!" he answered stiffly. Taking a last glance over his shoulder he winked meaningfully at New Moon and then, without looking at the colonel, he sauntered past.

"He treats you with much respect," New Moon observed.

James grinned, "Just barely. If I've learned anything about the lieutenant it is that he too often acts before he thinks. It's a wonder he has survived as long as he has on the frontier."

James moved closer and New Moon watched his advance with a quickening pulse. He stopped just inches from her and the scent that was so uniquely it sent her heart to flight. The heat of his body reached out to caress her chilled flesh, and she breathed deeply as her eyes traveled up to look into his face. It seemed only natural when he reached out and placed his hands on her hips and pulled her against him.

A soft moan escaped from between her lips as she gave herself to his embrace. She slowly ran the palm of her hand upward over his strong arms. Then, with a shaking finger, she traced the long scratch marks across his chest, which he'd rubbed with stain. The marks would now remain forever on his chest.

Her eyes rose again to his and he saw understanding in their depths. He lowered his lips to hers, and this time she offered no resistance, but melted tightly against him as she wrapped her arms about his neck.

This was what she had been waiting all her life for. His arms enveloped her and his body fit to hers as if they had never been just one or the other, but had always been inseparable.

He startled her when he broke the embrace and set her from him. With what appeared great reluctance, he turned his back to her.

New Moon looked at the stiffness of his spine, the width of his shoulder. As he pulled away from her it felt as if he ripped her heart from her chest.

She reminded herself that her dreams had never lied to her. He was still her warrior, but it was not yet time for their paths to meet.

She placed a small hand on his back, "Tell me about Gentle Rain." There was a catch in her voice. "Is she your wife?"

He turned. In the bright moonlight she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

He gathered her into his arms and buried his face in her hair as he held her close. "She will be my short time wife." He felt her stiffen and he held her tighter. He would make her understand. New Moon was as much a part of him as the marks she had placed on his chest.

Holding her close with his left arm he brought his right up to show her his wrist. His voice was pleading as he explained, "Gentle Rain's husband was my blood-brother."

It was not necessary for him to continue. She knew the rest.

"I will not dishonor my brother," James said softly.

New Moon nodded in understanding. He knew she understood, but her pride stood between them. She would not ask him to dishonor his brother, but clearly she hated the situation.

With tears in her eyes she said, "I will not share you with another woman. When this short time marriage is over, and if the spirits still agree, you may come to me." With this she turned and walked back toward the village.

James watched as she moved away. No words of love had been spoken, only a promise to let him come to her. After a few moments he left the serenity of the pond to go in search of the shaman.

***

James stepped through the doorway of his lodge. The hour was late. He'd spent a long time with the holy man learning of chants and spells that would bind New Moon to him. In the time he'd been with the Indians he'd learned not to take their magic lightly. He'd seen its power for himself, and now he would use this power to hold the woman he loved.

James looked toward the far end of his lodge and saw that
Akachee
and Gentle Rain were cuddled beneath the furs of their sleeping platforms. James moved quietly to his own bed. He removed the cloth from about his waist and tossed it to the ground before sliding naked beneath his furs.

Floating between the fuzzy realm of sleep and wakefulness the soft sounds of muffled sobs reached his ears, and he knew that it was Gentle Rain.

James' eyes flew open to the feel of a nudge in his back. He was not alone beneath his furs. There was another nudge to his back. He smiled as Gentle Rain's small hand twitched against his stomach. She was nuzzled quite comfortably against him, her arm over his side with her extended belly firmly pressed against his back. He felt a jab in his back from the baby's movement.

From her even breathing, James knew the motion of her baby had not disturbed her sleep. He wondered at a woman's ability to sleep through the activity taking place in her own body.

Her hand twitched again and he covered it with his own. Between the twitching and the thumping he doubted he would fall asleep again.

Quiet hung over the lodge in the still darkness of pre-dawn. It would not be long before Gentle Rain would wake and begin again a day filled with toil. If she had been born to his world she would not be rising at dawn to work till sundown to provide comfort for him. Instead, as a wife to one of his brothers, she would be petted and pampered. She would be allowed to sleep as long or as often as her growing body demonstrated a need for it.

With a widening grin he rolled to his back to place one arm under his head and with the other hand drew her smaller one up to his chest and pressed it over his heart. Nor would she have slipped into his bed and be snuggled so comfortably beneath his coven with no more than an unborn child between them.

He settled the matter within his heart. He would comfort her and he would make the remainder of her pregnancy as easy as he could. The little minx had wiggled her way beneath his skin. It surprised him to realize he found joy in all she said and did.

He almost wished it were more than the love a brother felt for a sister, and it might have been, had not New Moon so completely stolen his heart. For that he had no regrets.

Silently he prayed that the unborn child would be a boy. Yet if the child should be a girl, he would fulfill his obligation to Screaming Eagle. New Moon would understand; it was a custom of her people as well.

Chapter Seventeen

Akachee
shook James awake. Gentle Rain was no longer in his bed or even in the lodge. James pushed himself up, "Where is Gentle Rain?"

"She's 'tending to her duties,"
Akachee
answered crossly, but she was secretly pleased at his show of concern. She approved of Gentle Rain and every day she offered up many prayers that the child she carried would be a girl.
Akachee
could feel the age in her bones. She needed grand children to keep her young, to crawl up into her lap and beg to be told stories.

"You have lain under your furs too long. You have missed the sunrise," she continued in the same irritable tone. "You must eat and then you must go do something."

James chuckled, "And what would you have me do, Mother?" he answered as he threw back his bed furs and rose to his feet.

"I do not know. I do not care," she answered hastily and hurried from the lodge.

James retrieved his loincloth from where he'd tossed it the night before and tied it in place. Next to his backrest he found a bowl of wild oats cooked in milk and sweetened with berries and wild honey. He ate quickly and left the lodge. He did indeed have something to do.