Singing Heart (20 page)

The Indians used everything they took from the earth. She was touched by how he asked the Great Spirit for permission to kill an animal and then did so swiftly as painlessly as possible while mourning the animal. He used every part for meat to eat, fur for blankets and clothing or to repair the teepee with, to the stomach lining which was used as a water skin. Even teeth were used as decorations or fashioned into beads that were dyed by boiling them in various berry or leaves juices.

He taught her how to paint her face and braid her hair the way the women in his tribe did. She had begun showing him her ways as well. The more they were forced to stay indoors the more he learned to read and write. About history and laws the white man were creating in this new land. The medical knowledge that could help him with his own people. She gave him laudanum she had brought with her for headaches to give to his chief who suffered with terrible backaches. It helped him so much that he favored Gray Wolf’s woman with a gift. He sent her an exquisite fringed pouch made of white doeskin, which she could tie to her belt and use to gather herbs again in the spring.

Xzan loved rocks. She had found all kinds and treasured each one. Jaskarra teased her about her small hobby but he didn’t really think it was so silly. His people believed that rocks held the earth’s vibrations. It was obvious she had a real affinity with the earth. A magic of her own that she was as yet unaware of. In time she might be able to use her treasures to heal or create things.

Survival without the mercantile meant long hours of hard work. She still had a small cache of sugar and coffee, her vices but that wouldn’t last forever. She had brought all the nonperishable food she could with her. Flour which she made and gravy and biscuits for him with. He didn’t seem too impressed. Corn meal, jerky, salt, etc. They used it all combining what he had with what she had to make interesting meals.

He bathed in the stream when it was warm. She didn’t feel clean unless she soaked in a hot tub. It was too cold outside so once a week he pulled the copper pot into the teepee then watched with intense interest as she filled it over and over with water she boiled over the fire in a small black iron cauldron. He was the most intrigued however by the scent of the rose soap she bathed with. The only fragrance he had ever smelled was the one that Morning Dew had when she crushed wild flowers and rubbed the scent across her breast. The smell of Roses drove him crazy. He had to keep himself in firm control whenever she was fresh from a bath. That was more often than he fathomed because she insisted cleanliness was next to godliness as well as an important health factor.

He told her that too much cleansing would make you sick the first time you weren’t clean. They both had a point. But she refused to give up her baths in the dead of winter no matter how grueling the work to have one. He would sit with his back to her reading the bible she was teaching him with. Sometimes they would discuss the passage he was reading. Other times he would listen to her singing haunting melodies he knew must bring back memories of her family and life in England.

He spoke to her with the respect of an equal despite the fact that he believed women were inferior to men and Indians were superior to whites. He led her without demanding that she follow. He was always open to her ideas and allowed her to live by her own methods while learning his. She knew he was justified for hating the white man. But as time passed she knew he had accepted her despite the color of her skin.

Indians were given their names because of some event or things that seemed to suit their personality. One day he told her in the usual matter-of-fact way that her name was “Singing Heart” instead of Little Woman as he had always called her. When she asked why he told her it was her habit of singing from her heart even when she worked the hardest and had no reason to be happy. The music was light and airy most of the time. There were times however when he knew she was homesick or heart broken. The melodies became haunting. A lot of the time she wasn’t even aware that she was singing at all.

She already knew his language. He had taught it to her in her dreams as a young child. Now he taught her to chant and to sing the songs of his tribe. Her lilting voice left him breathless. She felt so deeply. She made everything in life part of her. She had described to him a musical instrument called a piano that she longed to play so badly she dreamed about it. To her surprise he seemed to genuinely comprehend because he had an instrument he played as well. It looked like a crude version of a flute. One day he sat cross-legged the middle of a snow filled canyon with the wind swirling white flakes around him like some primitive fairy dance and played for her. It emitted the most earthy sounds she’d every heard. Rhythmic like his chants. She had the impression of the wind carrying the notes way into the heavens. It made her heart ache with an indescribable feeling. Like how she had felt when the Fenierre’s died.

At night as it grew dark faster they were forced inside spending long hours sitting in front of the fire talking. About how long they’d known each other. What it meant. She told him about God and he told her about the Great Spirit. She had known things all her life that had no explanation. In his culture it was considered a gift. In hers she would have been labeled as crazy.

Because of his secret declaration that she was his wife he could not openly approach any of the other women in his tribe. However as in any society there is always a willing partner to be found. When he finally felt the heat in his loins build up to the point of frustration he sought out the welcoming arms of Bright Star. The squaw was beyond childbearing years. She had outlived three braves and wasn’t squeamish about a little warmth on a cold night.

She met him in the privacy of the caves under the waterfall. They came together silently asking nothing more than to satiate mutual needs. He had made sure Xzan was asleep before creeping out quietly. Overweight, flabby from many years of bearing papooses Bright Star was nevertheless still attractive with huge doe eyes framed by lustrous long eyelashes, full sensual lips and large brown nipples breast. Their joining was passionate. Undemanding as both were experienced lovers with no emotional ties or jealousy. She didn’t ask why he was dissatisfied with his young wife. He never questioned her about who else she met in this trysting place.

Just as the heat built the pleasure was most intense he felt her watching him. It made him furious. He couldn’t block her out anymore. Sometimes they even shared the same dreams. Like the one he had last night about a bear. She had been there fighting with him then woke him up to tell him off because he scared her half to death trying to kill the animal.

She saw him now coupled. Totally abandoned in his lust. He felt violated. She had woke to find him gone after having heard noises outside that frightened her. She began searching for him in her mind beckoning for him to return. When she did find him she felt betrayed. Feelings she didn’t understand exploded inside of her. She wanted to hurt him. To kill the cow he was mounted on.

He was hers! Theirs was a relationship that transcended the physical plane. They were one. They belonged to each other. He had defiled that with another woman. Mingled his soul with hers clouding his own. She was so full of hatred it reached him. He groaned rolling off the startled squaw who was unaware of the inner turmoil he was battling. Xzan was screaming at him. He had never seen her so angry. He ignored her refusing to comment. Reluctantly he left his disappointed lover blaming it on his age and being weary. He was steaming by the time he lifted the flap of the teepee.

She was sitting up on her knees her diaphanous nightgown starkly white in the glow of the firelight. Her violet eyes were glazed almost black in fury. He leaned down grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and shaking her.

“
You don’t want me…but you don’t want anyone else to have me either!” he spat.

“
What we have we can’t share with anyone else! We belong to each other! How could you…”

She never got to finish. He threw her backwards on the fur pelts his huge frame crushing her angry lips silencing her. She pummeled his massive chest with ineffectual fist. Unafraid. Madder than ever. Trying futilely to turn her head in protest. His mouth bruised her lips as he kissed her unmercifully. Finally he growled.

“
If you want to own me then fill all my needs. I am a man I need a woman.”

She gasped for air still trying to push him off of her. He seemed oblivious to her puny struggles. Jaskarra rearranged himself on his elbows with his big hands cradling the back of her neck. Forcing her to look him in the face and see that he was real. She was helplessly pinioned his manhood pressed against her mound with only the thin cotton material as a barrier between them.

She burst out crying in frustration. She knew what he said was true. She only had two choices. To feel abandoned and let him seek his pleasure elsewhere or to give herself to him to keep that person from coming between them. But the thought of the physical intimacy made her feel violently ill. Brett clouded her thoughts. She was reminded of their wedding night. The way he raped her when she was still too innocent to even know what he had really done. The pain was unbearable.

Gray Wolf was drawn inside her memories. He was revolted even though he only caught brief glimpses. He finally understood her panic. The agony she felt. He sighed resolutely. Pressed his dark head against her soft breast he hugged her to him in sympathy. It was pitiful. No wonder she had chosen to live without touch. He knew that to force the issue now would only drive her father away and deepen her fears. Singing Heart had to open up to him on her own or this would always be a form of abuse to her.

There were things he could do to arouse her interest. He planted a light kiss on the corner of her mouth then moved away to spend another unsatiated night alone in his own bed. She lay there shocked. Apprehensive at his change of heart. Unaware that he had witnessed her inner turmoil. A long time later while they both lay thinking in the dark just when she had mellowed out enough to melt into oblivion he murmured quietly, “I will never hurt you. Unless you desire me…come to me…I will never force myself on you that way again. While you are here with me I will not seek another woman. I will give you time to decide for yourself if you want part or all of me.”

Chapter Eight

From that night their relationship changed. They had a new awareness of each other. True to his promise he didn’t try to force her to respond to him but now he reached out more frequently to touch her embracing her with a hug or raining little kisses across her eyelids or cheeks. He put his hand in hers when they walked or his arm around her waist. He cradled her in his lap rocking her like a small child to sleep at night but she always awoke to find him tucking the blankets around her before silently making his way to his own pallet.

It was unbearably cold outside now. The snow was several feet high. Just enough to cocoon the teepee. They were forced to spend all their time together dealing with intimate issues of survival in an enclosed space which brought them closer than ever. The more they shared or talked about the more familiar they became with each other. As she grew to trust him Jaskarra became even more daring. One night he pulled her into his lap taking the hairbrush from her hand and began running it tenderly through her long silken tresses. It was so sensual to have someone else brush her hair. He paused now and then to kiss the nape of her neck or creamy shoulders squeezing her arm reassuringly as he pulled her closer.

She felt her body responding despite the inner turmoil. She unconsciously moaned aloud. His hands grew bolder as he pulled her back against his muscular chest and fondled her tiny nipples through the soft cotton of her bodice in erotic circles with his thumbs. She turned her head sideways to look at him smiling weakly. He smiled back lowering his head slowly till his full lips grazed hers ever so lightly. She could feel his hardness pressed against her back and it made her hot inside and somehow urgent. She broke away in panic but he didn’t follow her just sat there grinning and began discussing the weather as if nothing had happened. He had teased her so much one evening while she was reading to him from the Bible that she threw the book at him in exasperation. Jumping to her feet her beautiful eyes blazing she shook her finger at him.

“
Stop it! You’re driving me crazy!”

He looked at her innocently. “What am I doing?”

She stomped her foot frustratedly. “You know exactly what you’re doing!” Then she proceeded to show him exactly what he’d been doing.

She shocked even herself by straddling his lap pinioning his arms together at his chest and proceeding to suck his earlobe sensually trailing fiery kisses down his neck and back up the side of his smooth cheek till she reached his lips. Lingering there she sucked leisurely on the bottom protrusion mimicking his earlier actions. He had never had a woman hold him down before. Not that he couldn’t get loose but the shock of it and the way she imitated his caresses left him too stunned to move. His eyes grew black with unchecked passion. He had never wanted her more than at this moment. It was an urge so intense he felt he would implode if he didn’t get relief. Evidently he had driven her to the same point because what had started in pique had become smoky in her eyes. She stopped punishing him and began kissing him in earnest. They were both panting when she lifted her lips to stare at him in wonder.