the New Moon’s dark span. He speculated that maybe his patience, determination, temperament, and obedience were being tested by this enforced seclusion. He certainly didn’t want to do anything that would be judged as a flaw or sign of guilt, such as stalking into their camp and demanding to speak with his father or leaving his site without permission.
During the past seven days, he had enjoyed quick and secret words with Hanmani, who continued to conceal from others her communications with him. He had learned a little more about his family and recent events from her, but stolen moments didn’t allow enough time for gleaning many facts. Yet, he was convinced she believed his claims and had come to like, respect, and accept him. If only, he fretted, others would do the same.
He had observed Macha furtively as she had done her daily chores, and the hunger to speak to her and get to know her had grown stronger each day. He could not explain or understand his powerful attraction to her, but it existed and heightened steadily. He had taken great pleasure in hearing her alluring voice, in watching her radiant and easy smile, in following her graceful movements, in seeing the sun almost glisten on her shiny black hair, in trailing his tawny gaze over her lovelyfeatures-and supple body. He wondered what she would think and how she would feel about his romantic interest in her, if he ever revealed it, or if Hanmani had done so. Would she find it flattering and pleasing, or repulsive and unwanted? Could Macha ever be receptive to a half-breed, an outsider? Even if she returned his feelings for her one day, would her parents and their people permit a joining between them? He doubted it, and should not even be daydreaming along that line. Thoughts of romance, love, and marriage had not entered his mind before arriving there; and this absolutely was not the time for him to be distracted by such ideas.
One thing he should concentrate on instead was his cousin. He had seen Two Feathers halt several times during the week to glare at him, and he had merely stared back to show he wasn’t being intimidated. He had watched his brothers and their small parties leave to go on hunting and scouting rides, and he had yearned to join them. He hoped his horse was being well tended. The band stayed busy with preparation tasks; soon they would depart for the Plains and their buffalo hunt, and he wondered if he would be allowed to go with them. Or, Chase mused, would he be ordered to leave the area or be slain?
He had tried to pass the time reading portions of James Fenimore Cooper’s The Deerslayer and the Martins’ family Bible, both of which he had packed in his saddlebag. But he was becoming edgy, frustrated, and vexed by his coerced seclusion.
As Wind Dancer retrieved his bow and quiver from his weapon’s stand, Chumani asked, “What will happen on this sun, my husband?”
Wind Dancer gazed at his beloved Dewdrops, who held their child in her arms. “Only the Great Spirit knows, my wife,” he said. As he tousled the dark hair on his two-year-old son’s head, he disclosed, “I go to carry out Grandfather’s cunning plan to uncover the truth. Before this sun passes, the decision could be made on whether Cloud Chaser lives or dies.”
“This task is hard and painful for you,” she remarked knowingly as she looked into his sad and worried gaze.
“It will be more difficult and tormenting to lose my brother for a second time than it was to do so the first time; for on this sun, it may be a final loss to death and a black mark of shame on my family.”
“Your family should not be held to blame for his deceit and destiny,” Chumani refuted in a gentle tone.
“He is from the bloodline of Ghost Warrior and Redbird, and from the blood and seed of Rising Bear; if he betrays and endangers the Red Shields, we will be responsible and dishonored, for it is his bond to us which lured him here. Do not forget, my beloved wife, a man is his
During the past seven days, he had enjoyed quick and secret words with Hanmani, who continued to conceal from others her communications with him. He had learned a little more about his family and recent events from her, but stolen moments didn’t allow enough time for gleaning many facts. Yet, he was convinced she believed his claims and had come to like, respect, and accept him. If only, he fretted, others would do the same.
He had observed Macha furtively as she had done her daily chores, and the hunger to speak to her and get to know her had grown stronger each day. He could not explain or understand his powerful attraction to her, but it existed and heightened steadily. He had taken great pleasure in hearing her alluring voice, in watching her radiant and easy smile, in following her graceful movements, in seeing the sun almost glisten on her shiny black hair, in trailing his tawny gaze over her lovelyfeatures-and supple body. He wondered what she would think and how she would feel about his romantic interest in her, if he ever revealed it, or if Hanmani had done so. Would she find it flattering and pleasing, or repulsive and unwanted? Could Macha ever be receptive to a half-breed, an outsider? Even if she returned his feelings for her one day, would her parents and their people permit a joining between them? He doubted it, and should not even be daydreaming along that line. Thoughts of romance, love, and marriage had not entered his mind before arriving there; and this absolutely was not the time for him to be distracted by such ideas.
One thing he should concentrate on instead was his cousin. He had seen Two Feathers halt several times during the week to glare at him, and he had merely stared back to show he wasn’t being intimidated. He had watched his brothers and their small parties leave to go on hunting and scouting rides, and he had yearned to join them. He hoped his horse was being well tended. The band stayed busy with preparation tasks; soon they would depart for the Plains and their buffalo hunt, and he wondered if he would be allowed to go with them. Or, Chase mused, would he be ordered to leave the area or be slain?
He had tried to pass the time reading portions of James Fenimore Cooper’s The Deerslayer and the Martins’ family Bible, both of which he had packed in his saddlebag. But he was becoming edgy, frustrated, and vexed by his coerced seclusion.
As Wind Dancer retrieved his bow and quiver from his weapon’s stand, Chumani asked, “What will happen on this sun, my husband?”
Wind Dancer gazed at his beloved Dewdrops, who held their child in her arms. “Only the Great Spirit knows, my wife,” he said. As he tousled the dark hair on his two-year-old son’s head, he disclosed, “I go to carry out Grandfather’s cunning plan to uncover the truth. Before this sun passes, the decision could be made on whether Cloud Chaser lives or dies.”
“This task is hard and painful for you,” she remarked knowingly as she looked into his sad and worried gaze.
“It will be more difficult and tormenting to lose my brother for a second time than it was to do so the first time; for on this sun, it may be a final loss to death and a black mark of shame on my family.”
“Your family should not be held to blame for his deceit and destiny,” Chumani refuted in a gentle tone.
“He is from the bloodline of Ghost Warrior and Redbird, and from the blood and seed of Rising Bear; if he betrays and endangers the Red Shields, we will be responsible and dishonored, for it is his bond to us which lured him here. Do not forget, my beloved wife, a man is his
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