Song of the Raven (Daughters of the Prairie 3)

“I am not used to it so sweet.” He took another bite. “It is good.”

Ella smiled. “I’m glad you like it. I brought you a few pieces of bread, too. I’m sorry I have no milk. After she kicked me, the silly cow who you think is worthy of the utmost respect kicked over the pail of milk.”

A raspy chuckle escaped Raven’s throat.

“A fine thing, I’ll say,” Ella scolded. “What is so funny? Not only have I a terrible Charley Horse, but we’ve no milk for breakfast or lunch!”

“I do not laugh at you, itka,” Raven said, “but at the cow. Please”—he patted the ground next to him—“sit with me.”

He drew her like a magnet. “Ooph,” she said, as she sat down on the dirt floor.

“What is wrong?”

“My shin. Where Sukie kicked me.” Ella arranged her skirts so no skin on her legs showed. “I’m fine.”

“It pains me that you hurt.”

“Yes, well, it’s part of life here in the hills, as I’m sure you know.” Ella sighed and then smiled. Goodness, he was a handsome man. High cheekbones and a straight nose. Radiant long black hair. Though unkempt at the moment, she imagined it braided, entwined with feathers. He would be quite a sight in full warrior regalia. Her cheeks warmed and she looked away. “Did I bring you enough food?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Good.” She fidgeted with her apron pocket and began to rise. “I must see to your water.”

Raven touched her arm. A burning spark sizzled underneath her skin where his fingers lay. “Please,” he said. “Stay. I find your presence…soothing.”

“Well. All right.” Ella stilled, but did not attempt to remove his hand from her arm.

“Tell me, itka, do you have a”—Raven cleared his throat—“man that you wish to marry someday?”

What a question! The warmth in her cheeks turned to scalding. She tensed under his touch still on her arm. “There was a man in Minnesota. Andrew is his name. I always thought… But then Papa brought us here, to minister to the gold prospectors.”

“Were you in love with this Andrew?”

Was she? She’d always assumed they’d marry. She’d looked forward to a home and children. She held him in high esteem and valued his friendship. But did she love him? “I don’t know. I’m not sure.” How had she never considered whether she’d loved him? She stiffened further. This conversation was inappropriate and extremely uncomfortable. But she couldn’t help asking, “What about you? Do you have a wife?”

He shook his head. “The spirit has not yet led me to my wife. There is a maiden, Dancing Doe, who would like to be my wife. I care for her but…”

“You don’t love her.”

“No.” His tone was firm, commanding. “I do not.”

“Well, I don’t quite understand how your people…marry, I guess. Not all marriages are based on love.”

“But they should be,” Raven said.

“Yes.” Ella nodded. How had she intended to marry a man she wasn’t sure she loved? She

stared into the black orbs of Raven’s eyes—beautiful onyx eyes fringed with long ebony lashes. “They definitely should be.”

“My father, Standing Elk, is a very wise man. He says the Great Spirit will show you the mate of your soul, and you will know him or her instantly.”

“Oh?” Ella shuddered, her voice cracking slightly. Perhaps he didn’t notice. She hoped not. This topic had gotten far too personal. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t nervous because of the impropriety of their conversational subject. No. Her stomach fluttered and twisted into knots because when she looked at Raven, she felt the wisdom of the Great Spirit guiding her. She eyed his hand, which still lay on her arm, and felt him tighten his grip.

“Will you come closer, itka?” he whispered.

She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. But she leaned toward him, his full mouth, not nearly so parched as yesterday, too tempting to resist.

“Hopa. Lila Wiya Waste.” He brushed his lips against hers.