LITMIR.BIZ

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state. It was Deer Woman with his niece.

      “What is wrong?“ she asked, looking quickly from Wolf to Serena.

      “Everything!” Wolf roared at her. He stalked to the entrance. “Stay here for once and take care of things as you are supposed to do! I will return later.”

      Stunned by his anger, Deer Woman stood holding the baby for a few moments after Wolf’s departure. She placed the cradleboard on his pallet and folded her hands in front of her, then walked over to the wasicun. She knew no English, but wanted somehow to speak with her.

      Serena sat there, watching the young woman in a golden buckskin dress beaded on the bodice with brightly colored flowers. There was eagerness and excitement in her eyes as she approached her.

      Smiling shyly, Deer Woman leaned down and dipped the wooden ladle into the bowl, offering her the water. “Mni,” Deer Woman said.

      Serena stared at the bowl filled with clear water. She was thirsty.

      Deer Woman repeated the Lakota word for water, sliding the bowl into Serena’s hands, which rested in her robed lap. “Mni.”

      Nodding, Serena gave her a grateful look, shakily lifting the bowl to her cracked lips. The liquid spilled out both corners of her mouth as she gulped down the contents.

      Deer Woman smiled encouragingly, taking the bowl and filling it again. “Mni,” she repeated.

      Serena nodded. “Mni,” she whispered, taking the bowl.

      A dazzling smile of triumph blossomed on Deer Woman’s mouth. “Han, mni.” Yes, water.

      Her thirst sated, Serena sat there, looking around. She was in some kind of skin abode. It was large, circular and neatly kept. There was a central fire, from which smoke curled upward to a hole at the top. Fur robes of every imaginable kind covered the dirt floor. The fact that there were three pallets made her feel better. Was this woman the wife of Black Wolf? She must be, for she cared tenderly for the baby in the cradleboard.

      Eager to help Serena, Deer Woman went to a skewer that held a cooked rabbit on it. She knelt down and offered the meat to Serena. “Yuta,” she urged. Eat. Making smacking sounds with her lips and pulling a piece of flesh from the rabbit, Deer Woman popped it into her mouth.

      Yuta must mean eat, Serena surmised. She was famished and the rabbit looked inviting. Knowing she must regain her strength, she took the offered flesh from the woman. The meat was tender and juicy. Her jaw hurt, and so did her temple each time she chewed, but Serena ignored the pain.

      Wolf entered the tepee. He glared at Deer Woman, who was kneeling at Serena’s side, feeding her.

      “Look, Black Wolf, she eats!” Deer Woman announced proudly. Now he would be pleased with her.

      Disgruntled, Wolf sat down, several dried roots in hand. “You finally decided to return to your duties,” he rasped. He spread one root across a large flat stone. Taking a larger stone that fit his hand, he exerted all his strength and began to crush and grind the root into a powder.

      “I was down gathering fresh willow for a basket I intend to make,” Deer Woman whispered, hurt by his censure.

      “Yes, and you left my niece behind. I have things to do, girl! I cannot tend Dawn Sky and this red-haired cougar plus all my other duties!” Wolf glanced up into Deer Woman’s wounded features. “I do not intend to have Little Swallow care for my niece just because you ignore your womanly duties. Next time, you take Dawn Sky with you.”

      “But it is hard to watch her and hunt for willow,” Deer Woman whined. “You were all sleeping well when I left. I saw no reason to awaken your niece.”

      Each grinding movement with the stone bled away some of his frustration and anger. Wolf glanced over at Cante Tinza. She’d stopped eating the moment he’d entered the tepee. Her eyes were shadowed, wary of his every moment. Curse the day he’d come upon her! And yet the urge to make contact with her as a woman, not as a frightened wild horse, was eating him alive. She hovered in every waking thought of his like fog lingering above a river. At night, he dreamed of her in his arms. In his arms, of all things! If anyone knew of his torrid dreams, they would poke fun at him. Only young braves were smitten thus. Not him. Not men of his age or of his importance to the tribe.

      Serena saw tears gather in the woman’s eyes after the harsh words Black Wolf had hurled at her. She didn’t understand what they had said, only that he’d been sharp and wounding. It was easy to erect a wall of hatred toward him because of his treatment of his wife. He probably beat her, too. Just as Kingston had beaten her on numerous occasions. Yet Serena was mystified by how her heart reacted to the warrior. She remembered his songs of healing and how they had moved through her, assuaging her pain and fear. And she couldn’t ignore the liquid kindness burning in his eyes and the low, dark tone of his voice as he’d tried to establish peace between them.

      “No more,” she told the woman. “Thank you.”

      Deer Woman nodded shyly, taking the rabbit off the skewer and placing it in a nearby pot for stew that she would fix later. The red-haired one was tired, revealed by the darkness beneath each of her glorious green eyes.

      “Asnikiya,” she coaxed, patting the robe.

      Tilting her head, Serena whispered, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you say.”

      “She said ‘rest’!” Wolf snarled in English.

      Tensing at the snapping tone in his voice, Serena glared at Black Wolf. Her Irish temper welled up within her. But the warrior could come over and knock her silly, or rape her if she foolishly made the scathing retort that she wanted to. Without a word, Serena slowly stretched out and lay down. Deer Woman patted her shoulder awkwardly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Serena wanted to comfort the woman, but didn’t know how. Instead, she whispered, “Thank you.”

      Jealousy ate at Wolf. In that moment, he hated Deer Woman’s ability to gain Cante Tinza’s trust. Her words had come out in a husky breathiness that stirred his loins. What would it be like to tame all that fire and spirit and have her give the gift of herself to him? Pushing down brutally upon the stone, he crushed the root, the powder spilling off the sides and onto the skin that would collect it.

      Nothing could erase the haunting, husky quality of Cante Tinza’s voice within him. Wolf heard the emotion in it, wanting it for himself. Somehow, someway, he would gain her trust. He would tame her with the intent of making her his wife. This was the woman he wanted to carry his children. Despite her torture at the hands of the wasicun, her spirit moved him powerfully. It didn’t matter if she was already married or had a family. He understood real love because of his sisters and their husbands. But could he really keep Serena selfishly for himself if she was truly in love with her wasicun husband? Wolf’s conscience chafed at him, and yet he was unwilling to look too closely at the questions—and the possible answers.

      Stealing a glance at Cante Tinza he saw that she had closed her eyes. Her thick red lashes caressed her almost translucent flesh. She walked in beauty in his eyes. Her abundant red hair was a brilliant halo of fire framing her thin face. Wolf ached to brush her hair as she sat with her back to him, to run the strands through the elk-bone comb and watch them curl and slide cleanly through his fingers. And she would enjoy his worship of her, too. There were many ways for a man to love his woman. He would teach her that not all men hurt. Not all men brutally took without asking or giving something of beauty in return.

      No, Wolf thought, the grinding becoming less angry now, I will show her that a man can be her friend as well as her lover. She won’t want to leave our tribe. I will make her stay. Somehow, I will convince her to stay and be my wife….

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