Savage Flames

“But this is only a narrow, shallow river. How could ships ever travel on it?” Lavinia asked, looking over at Wolf Dancer who now sat beside her.

She could smell the clean scent of him.

She could almost feel his heartbeat, for surely it was pounding as rapidly as hers now that they were so close together.

“I would guess that the bones washed up from the sea over the course of many, many years,” Wolf Dancer said thoughtfully. “They make a fearful sight, do they not? That is why my people avoid this island whenever they can. They are afraid of touching the bones.”

“I most certainly would not want to touch them,” Lavinia said, shivering.

Wolf Dancer slid an arm around her waist and drew her close. “While you are with me you have nothing to fear from anything or anyone,” he said. “But I can see how uncomfortable you are here. I will now take you to another beach where there are many beautiful shells. There we will beach the canoe and walk along the sand. I have brought a small basket for you to gather shells, if you wish.”

“I would love to,” she said, her pulse racing because his lips were so close and his arm was wrapped so protectively and lovingly around her waist. “Wolf Dancer, oh, Wolf Dancer, will you please kiss me? I cannot stand another moment without knowing the wonder of your lips against mine. But if you think I am brazen for asking—”

He twined his fingers through her golden hair and swept her closer to him, his lips finding hers in a wondrous, all-consuming kiss.

Lavinia had never found such bliss, such sweetness, in any man’s kiss. She twined her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, then jerked suddenly away from him when she heard the loud call of a bird. She looked up and found a huge, white, long-legged heron flying down, alarmingly close to them.

“She is only curious,” Wolf Dancer said as he leaned away from Lavinia and gazed up at the lovely bird. “Not too many people come this far into the swamp. She is only used to seeing those bones.”

When he heard Lavinia gasp, he chuckled, brushed a kiss across her brow, then went back tow here he had left the paddle resting against the side of the canoe.

“I will take you now to where you can choose which wampum shells you wish for your own necklace, and also for your daughter and Twila,” he said, already paddling the canoe away from the bones.

Lavinia found herself relaxing more as they drew away from the bones, but when she saw him guide his canoe toward land again nearby, she wasn’t certain she was ready to go ashore, not this close to the skeletal remains.

But when she caught sight of the many beautiful shells that lay everywhere on the white sand, she gasped in pleasure. She was glad when he beached the canoe and handed her the basket.

Together they walked among the shells, some of which were actually in the shape of beads. And there were so many varied colors to choose from.

“These shells have floated in from the ocean, up the river on the tide,” Wolf Dancer said, pointing to one shell and then another.

“Please tell me about these different shells,” Lavinia said, glad that full strength had returned to her legs so that she could enjoy these special moments with the man she loved. “Each one is beautiful in its own way.”

“Let me see if I can find the shells we use to make wampum,” Wolf Dancer said, stopping and kneeling to run his fingers through the sand, unearthing several more shells that the sand had hidden from view. “The white wampum beads come from the inner spiral of this shell.” He held it out so she could see.

“The purple wampum is taken from the shiny inside of a hard-shell clam. Whether purple or white, the shell beads are ground smooth and then used to decorate bracelets or belts. My people prize them as a sign of wealth.”

“There is so much to learn,” she murmured. “But I do find it interesting.”

She began earnestly gathering shells, feeling utterly content. Wolf Dancer had told her more than once that she was safe with him, so she allowed herself to relax completely.

“Wolf Dancer, for the first time since I left my parents’ home to be a wife, I feel free, and oh, so alive,” she murmured. “I cared for my husband, but so often I felt trapped in that huge white mansion. I was only able to get out of the house to spend time in my garden, which I loved, and to go into town occasionally for some brief shopping expeditions. But I never traveled with my husband when he left to tend to business, and he was sometimes gone for weeks upon weeks. Yes, I did feel truly trapped.”

Wolf Dancer was uneasy about her comment on being free, that she was so happy in her newfound freedom.

Did that mean she would never be happy when married? Perhaps she would not even want to marry again.

He had to change her mind if that was the case, for he now knew that life would never be the way as he dreamed if he could not sh

are it with her.

After her basket was brimful of shells andbeads, they stopped and sat on the sand beside the water.

They watched all sorts of birds and butterflies soaring here and there. Lavinia found herself studying their intriguing, colorful markings.

“I have never been as happy as I feel now,” Lavinia murmured, setting her basket on the sand.

Wolf Dancer reached for her and drew her into his arms. He kissed her passionately, but Lavinia stiffened in his arms when she heard a noise close by.