Song of the Raven (Daughters of the Prairie 3)

So why did she want to so badly?

She hesitated before the door and then knocked softly. “Raven?”

&n

bsp; “Come in, itka.”

Her heart thudded as she pushed the door open. “I’m…sorry I let you go so long without a pail of water. I—” Her words caught in her throat.

“You can look at me, Ella. I will not harm you.”

“I…I know that. It’s just…”

The whoosh of Raven’s sigh met her ears.

“I believe you fear what you do not understand,” he said. “You are like all white eyes.”

Ella snapped to attention and set the bucket down with a soft thunk on the dirt floor. “I am not like the white men who fear your kind, Raven. I can’t believe you would say such a thing!” She paced in small circles. “I have always believed that everyone, no matter what his skin color, should be able to live his life as he sees fit. So long as it’s a moral life, in the eyes of whatever god he chooses to worship.”

“Calm down, itka. I meant no disrespect.”

“Well, I should hope not.” She stared long and hard at his bronze chest, her heart skipping, and then lowered her gaze to his legs. “You have new pants.”

“Yes. My brother came by after you left this morning.”

“But your injury. It needs to be… That is, I need to check it.”

“I am healing quickly. I am lucky. My brother… He wanted me to leave with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“I told him I would not leave you.”

“Oh, good Lord in heaven.” Ella raised her hands to the ceiling. “This can never be, Raven. Don’t you understand? You barely know me. I can assure you I’m not an easy woman to live with. You’ve seen how I let an old cow get to me.”

“You are kind and compassionate. And beautiful.” He chuckled. “I care not whether an old cow vexes you.”

“I’m from a different world.”

“As was my brother, and he is now Lakota.”

“But he was younger, I assume, when he came to you. I—” She gasped when Raven braced himself against the hay covered wall and stood. “Goodness! You shouldn’t be up.”

“I have been up twice already today, Ella. I am a warrior. I am fine.” He came toward her and enclosed her in his arms. She had forgotten how tall he was. Ella, like her mother, was tall for a woman, but Raven’s chin rested on the top of her head.

“Tell me you want me to leave, itka, and I shall go.” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her neck.

Warmth speared through her, and she shuddered.

Ella’s lips rested against Raven’s hard bronze chest. She inhaled. His scent was crisp and male. Rugged, like the beautiful Black Hills themselves. Without thinking, she slid her lips into a pucker and kissed his bare skin.

“Ah, itka. That feels nice.”

“Oh, my.” She pushed against his chest. “I’m so sorry. My goodness, what you must think of me.”

“I think only that you are mine, tehila,” he said against her hair, “and that your soft lips on my skin was the sweetest sensation I have ever felt.”

“Oh.” She sighed and melted against his chest again.