Wild Innocence (17 page)

Grease from a bear?
She was beginning to see the benefits of using the grease. Rachel decided that the smell couldn't be as bad as this deer hide. She would use the bear grease at the earliest opportunity, which she hoped was soon, as there were more mosquitoes vying for her flesh.

“Rach-el.” Black Hawk's deep voice caught Rachel by surprise. Since their discussion the night before, she'd seen him in the village, but only from a distance. What magic did this man have that caused her heart to race whenever he came near?

She turned slowly, so as not to appear anxious to speak to him. He was frowning when she met his gaze. Her spirits fell.

She nearly flinched when he reached out to touch her cheek. She realized what he was doing when he touched a red welt. He spoke rapidly to his sister. Spring Blossom answered.

“Don't blame Spring Blossom,” Rachel said quietly. “I was too stupid to use the grease.”

He looked at her with surprise.

“I'll use it as soon as we're done,” she promised.

“You will use it now,” he said sternly.

She stiffened. “Spring Blossom needs my help.”

Rachel and Black Hawk both turned to the brave's sister.

“This can wait, Rach-el,” she said. “Go and use grease. I will be here when you get back.”

Still angry with Black Hawk, she nodded stiffly, then headed toward the wigwam. To her dismay, Black Hawk fell into step behind her.

She halted and faced him. “You don't have to follow me. I already said that I'd use the grease.”

He nodded, but when she continued on, he was right behind her.

She stifled annoyance as she reached Spring Blossom's wigwam, lifted the door flap, and went inside. She gasped when Black Hawk followed her in.

“What are you doing in here?” she cried. Her heart gave a lurch as she stared at him. She didn't want to notice how attractive he was, but she couldn't help it. His commanding presence seemed to fill the interior of the wigwam.

Without answering her, Black Hawk reached beneath a platform in his sister's home and withdrew a container of bear grease. She saw his intent in his eyes. She held out her hand.

“Thank you,” she said, hoping he'd take the hint, give her the grease, and then leave.

But her efforts to get him to leave were futile. She could see the determination in his glistening ebony gaze, and knew that he intended to oversee her use of the bear grease.

“I told you I'd put it on,” she said, “and I will.”

He nodded without a word.

“Then give me the salve and leave me!” she cried. The air between them had become thick with a strange tension that increased when Black Hawk's gaze slid down her scantily clad length. She became conscious of how little the doeskin tunic concealed. Since putting it on last evening, she had come to enjoy the freedom of movement the garment afforded her. Today, with so many women with fewer clothes than she had, she had forgotten her unease until now . . . under Black Hawk's continued stare.

“What?” she asked.
“What is it?”

Something flashed in his eyes, and she felt her body tingle in response. The strange sensation didn't go away as Black Hawk turned his attention to opening the container.

He approached her with the grease and a look that made her flush right down to her toes. Rachel jerked when desire hit her hard. Her physical attraction toward him disturbed her.

The memory of his kiss made her lips quiver. When he touched her arm to smooth a layer of bear grease, she swallowed against a suddenly dry throat.

She met Black Hawk's gaze as he spread the grease over her shoulder. His touch was caressing, and she nearly moaned aloud at the pleasure. She bit her lip, then gasped when the action drew his attention to her mouth.

She licked her dry lips. Desire flashed in his dark eyes, and she responded to it. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it so much that it physically hurt.

“Black Hawk,” she gasped.

He dipped his finger in the bear grease and smoothed it above the scooped collar of her doeskin tunic. She jerked at his touch, then trembled as her skin tingled and burned.

Black Hawk seemed fascinated by the way the grease coated her white skin as he took more of the salve and spread it up her throat and down, lingering a long time at the throbbing pulse point near its base.

“Black Hawk,” she whispered achingly.

He stopped and gazed into her eyes. Something wild and savage flashed in his obsidian eyes as their gazes locked and her feelings were openly displayed for him to see.

“Please,” she gasped, unable to help herself. She swayed toward him.
“Please.”

With a harsh groan, Black Hawk dropped the container of grease and jerked her into his arms.

His kiss made her head spin, and she clutched him tightly as her legs threatened to buckle. His mouth savagely demanded that she respond, and Rachel did, happily, gloriously, moaning softly when it seemed as if he couldn't get enough of her.

The exchange was a fusion of hot mouths desperate for contact. Rachel never knew a kiss could be so stirring, so hungry . . . so wild.

She heard a groan. Had it come from her? Or him? Her thoughts were muddled. Her nerve endings hummed with life. Her heated blood rushed through her veins, arousing every inch of her to a fever pitch.

Black Hawk framed her face with his hands as he continued to devour her with his kisses. Rachel knew she should be shocked. But she felt no sense of impropriety ... only pleasure and the desire for it to continue on and on.

As abruptly as the kiss had started, it ended the same way when Black Hawk released her and turned away. Rachel stared at the Ojibwa brave's back while her breath labored from her chest. She could still feel the imprint from his touch, his heat. And she wanted more. The warmth of his nearness enveloped her and made her tingle.

“Black Hawk.”

He faced her, almost reluctantly, and she gazed into his glistening onyx eyes. She saw desire, perhaps confusion, and some other emotion she couldn't read. She knew she felt some of what he was feeling and more. She knew that at this moment she wanted Black Hawk as she'd never wanted another man.

He bent and picked up the container. “You must put this on now,” he said. His dark gaze looked troubled. He spun as if to leave.

“Wait!” she gasped. He was just going to go away as if nothing had happened between them? As if their passion didn't exist?

He froze, but didn't look back. That was when she knew that he had been affected as deeply as she'd been. And that the knowledge disturbed him.

“Black Hawk,” she whispered. “Please.”

He turned as if reluctant to face her. “I will not come near you again. This man shouldn't have kissed you. I am sorry.”

Not come near her again! she thought. No! She didn't want that. He made her feel alive. She didn't want him avoiding her.

Rachel shook her head. “Please,” she said. “Don't be sorry.”

Pain flashed across his features. “You are under my protection. This will not happen again.”

“Black Hawk,” she cried. “Black Hawk!”

But he didn't stop.

Rachel stared at the moving door flap after Black Hawk had left the wigwam. “It will happen again if I have anything to say about it!” she murmured. She couldn't deny that they were attracted to each other, that she had enjoyed Black Hawk's kisses and wanted them again.

She frowned as she began to smear the bear grease over every inch of exposed skin. “It can't be love I feel for him,” she whispered. “I love Jordan.”

If Jordan came for her and claimed that he'd made a mistake, she'd forgive him and return with him willingly.

“I don't know,” she said beneath her breath. “I never expected to feel this way about Black Hawk. About any man.” She still didn't understand what she was feeling, but she had the sense to realize that this feeling for the attractive brave was powerful. Was it just physical?

She shivered and hugged herself with her arms.
I think not!

 

 

Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw had sent scouts out to find Clouds-at-Morning and the Sioux. They had been gone three days when a brave returned with news.

“I have seen our enemy. They sleep in the forest where two waters meet,” the Indian said. “There is a great one with them. I have watched him practice with bow and arrow. I have seen guns. They have many horses.”

The chief turned to Black Hawk with a look of concern. He had assembled his most trusted men before him to share in the news. Black Hawk was his war chief and he valued the brave's opinion greatly. Even when it seemed that Black Hawk would act one way because the situation was personal, the war chief did not. He acted only with wisdom and courage and skill.

“What is your wish?” the chief asked the brave.

“Let us go and see who these Sioux are,” Black Hawk said.

Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw nodded. “This is wise. It may be true that a certain old warrior may ride with them. You may find the one you seek for vengeance rides among those who kidnapped the white doctor's daughter.”

Black Hawk nodded. “We will go and see. We will not waste life needlessly.”

“Go then, Black Hawk. Choose your warriors and may
Gicho-Manidoo
watch over your path.”

Within the hour, Black Hawk and his small band of chosen Ojibwa men left to find these Sioux. Black Hawk did not try to see Rachel before he left. He thought it best that he keep away from her. She stirred a fire in his blood that made it difficult for him to breathe.

Before he left, he spoke to his friends to ensure that she'd be well protected during his absence. Then, he slipped out into the night to find his enemy.

 

 

Rachel was upset when she learned that Black Hawk had left the village without a word to her. She became frantic when she found out where he'd gone. She alternately cursed him and prayed for his safe return.

“Just wait until he comes back,” she grumbled beneath her breath as she went to the river for water. “I'll give him a piece of my mind that he won't soon forget!”

If he comes back,
she thought with chilling horror.

She closed her eyes and began to pray. “Please return safely, Black-Hawk-Who-Hunts-at-Dawn.”

After a week, Rachel had begun to enjoy life in the Ojibwa village. She no longer cringed when she helped Spring Blossom tan animal skins. The first time she'd nearly sickened while she watched the Indian maiden rub the scraped fur with the animal's brain matter. Whatever the animal's size, there was just enough matter to cover and preserve the whole hide, Spring Blossom explained. Rachel had difficulty not turning away as she watched the skin turn supple under Spring Blossom's hands.

During her stay, Rachel had learned much about Ojibwa life. She learned how they prepared their food, built their wigwams, and made their clothing. Since first coming to the village, she even looked more like an Indian. Besides the fact that she'd taken well to wearing deerskin clothing, she used a dye given to her by the Ojibwa to darken her skin and a salve to protect her from sunburn. With her naturally dark, unbound hair and her darker skin, she could easily pass as an Ojibwa maiden. As long as one didn't look too closely at her green eyes, she thought, or the color of her hair. In direct sunlight, one could see a reddish tint in her long tresses.

Black Hawk had been gone for three days. She missed him. She wondered if he was all right, what he was doing. Had he found his father's murderer? Or Clouds-at-Morning?

What did he plan to do once he found either one? Kill him? She experienced a chill. What if he got killed first?

She didn't want to imagine him hurt or injured. Seeing him vulnerable once had been enough. She didn't want to see him that way ever again.

And she couldn't imagine him as a murderer.

It had been a while since she'd seen her father and sister. Were they all right? She missed them. If only she could see them, even if it was just for a short visit. Black Hawk had said her family knew where she was. Why hadn't they come to see her?

She mentioned this to Spring Blossom and one of the Ojibwa matrons, Woman-with-Hair-of-Fox.

“They think you angry with them,” Spring Blossom said. The maiden looked a lot like her brother. Being with her caused Rachel to continually long for Black Hawk.

Rachel frowned. “I'm not angry with them.” She was over her anger. She realized that her family was concerned for her safety.

The matron spoke up. “It may be too dangerous for them to come.”

“Dangerous?” Rachel felt a flicker of alarm. “Because of me?”

Woman-with-Hair-of-Fox inclined her head.

“How can I find out if this is true?”

“Our chief would know this.”

“I'd like to speak with him,” Rachel said.

Spring Blossom looked startled. “You wish to talk with Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw?”

Rachel nodded. “If he is the one who can tell me what I need to know.”

The Indian women exchanged glances.

“I will ask my husband, He-Who-Comes-from-Far-Away,” Woman-with-Hair-of-Fox said.

Rachel smiled.
“Miigwech.”

It was the next morning when Woman-with-Hair-of-Fox came to her. “My husband has spoken with Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw. The chief said that your father and sister may visit.”

Rachel, glad of the news, wasn't bothered by the fact that she hadn't spoken with the chief personally.

“Who will let them know?” she asked.

Woman-with-Hair-of-Fox told her that Rain-from-Sky had been sent to the trading post to inform her sister.

Her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Rachel put a hand on the woman's shoulder. “Thank you.”

The Sioux encampment had packed up and moved. Black Hawk stared at the vacated clearing with an angry scowl.

“You must return to our village,” he told the others. “I will follow their trail for a time before I, too, return.”

“I will go with you,” Thunder Oak said.

“I want to go, too,” Gray Squirrel said. He was the Ojibwa chief's son.

One by one, all six men in Black Hawk's band agreed that they would accompany Black Hawk as he followed the Sioux's trail.

“They head to the south, toward the trading post,” Black Hawk said.

Thunder Oak nodded. “We will find our enemy before they can harm us.”

“Let us go then now!” the chiefs son said. “We must not waste time.”

Black Hawk nodded while he regarded Gray Squirrel thoughtfully. It would be wise if he kept a close eye on this young son of Big-Cat-with-Broken-Paw. He
wants war, but doesn't know how terrible it can be. He reacts before he thinks. He wants to fight, and I will have to stop him before he does something that
may
harm our people.

It was night as the Ojibwa band led by Black Hawk left the forest clearing in search of their Sioux enemy. Black Hawk was tired. He wanted to return, but he wouldn't until he learned whether or not Clouds-at-Morning traveled with these Sioux men. And although he knew he shouldn't, he longed to see Rachel again.

And there was still He-Who-Kills-with-Big-Stick. Black Hawk hadn't forgotten that the warrior had been spied among the Sioux who'd attacked and murdered Red Dog's people. Perhaps these Sioux they followed would know the whereabouts of the man.

The day of reckoning was near between Black Hawk and He-Who-Kills-with-Big-Stick. Until that day had come, Black Hawk would never truly be free. Until then, he could not think of Rachel Dempsey and this powerful passion he had for her.

 

 

“Jordan!” Bess Dempsey stared at the young man standing on her doorstep.

“Aunt Bess,” he said softly. His gray eyes regarded her warmly. “May I come in?”

Frowning, she hesitated. She was not happy to see him.

“Please?” he begged. “I must see Rachel.”

Bess waved the young man inside. After she closed the door, she faced him. “Rachel isn't here.”

He looked impatient. “When will she be back?”

“She's not coming back,” Bess said coldly.

Jordan flinched as if struck. “What do you mean she isn't coming back?”

She was almost tempted to feel sorry for him.
Almost, but not quite.
“Rachel left Baltimore. She's no longer in Maryland; she's in Wisconsin with her father.”

“But she couldn't have gone!”

Bess's jaw snapped. “I can assure you, young man, that she did, in fact, leave. Now, you too must leave. You've taken too much of my time, young man.” She opened the door in a not-too-subtle hint for him to depart.

“Wait,” he cried. “I have to see her. I love her!”

She scowled at him. “You picked a fine way to show her,” she said. “Leaving her at the altar.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “That girl thought the world of you, Jordan Sinclair, and what did she get for her trouble? A broken heart, that's what!”

She grabbed his arm and steered him toward the open doorway. “A broken heart and a great deal of humiliation in front of this whole community!”