Savage Skies

Although she doubted he would hear much of what she said, she was still going to sit there and talk with him about the things he used to enjoy discussing after they first married.

He had been eager to know all about her, and she had told him the story of her life, everything except the bad, sad times that would never leave her. Those memories were imbedded in her heart, like leaves fossilized into stone.

But her life now was one of sweetness and peace. It was a vastly different world from the one she had known before coming to these wonderful people.

Blue Thunder watched Speckled Fawn until she disappeared inside her tepee. Then he turned slowly and gazed at the lodge where the other white woman temporarily made her home.

He had experienced many emotions since he had come face-to-face with the scarlet-haired woman. He had to deal with those feelings in the right way.

But now that he knew of a child who was surely in harm’s way, the little girl must take precedence over everything and everyone else.

Chapter Twelve

Give me a mind that is not bound

That does not whimper, whine or sigh.

—Webb

Blue Thunder knew that he must not act too quickly on his decision to help Shirleen’s little lost girl, or his people might see into his heart and feel that he was putting too much effort into this white woman’s plight. She should just be another white woman to him, like Speckled Fawn. He should not be showing so much interest in her and her family.

He knew it was best not to think too much about this beautiful, flame-haired woman, but he could not help himself. She had touched his heart almost from the moment he’d seen her as he surveyed the Comanche renegades below him from the hilltop.

Her courage had called out to him. Captured by a fierce, murdering enemy, she had nonetheless walked boldly, proudly onward, as though to say to her captors that they had not gotten the best of her, and that she would survive whatever they did to her.

Ho, he had seen pride and courage in her, while all along she might have been mourning the loss of a child, not knowing whether she was dead or alive!

She was braver than most women he had known in his life, white or red-skinned.

His wife had been a woman of such strength, too. She had been dealt many hurts in her lifetime, but had never succumbed to them.

When he married her, he had taken her away from a spiteful sister whose jealousy had caused his wife much pain.

He had been so glad to separate Shawnta from that sister. He had actually married her more to protect her from hurts than out of love. Their marriage had been one of gentle understanding, full of quiet affection, but never passionate in any way.

He doubted the white woman would ever let any other woman, even a sister, stand in her way, or ridicule her.

Ho, she was tiny in build, but large in strength and courage!

And he knew that the more he allowed her into his mind, the more she was taking over his heart. Here was a woman who could take the place of the one he had lost.

He would always love Shawnta and the special way they had cared for one another.

But now he wanted a woman with whom he could share passion, not just affection. He wanted, oh, so much more than what he had had with Shawnta.

He wanted everything that he had denied himself while living in a marriage that was truly more of convenience than true, deep love.

He needed the enduring love that came with sharing his blankets with a woman who could inspire passion in him as well.

And if that woman’s skin was white, so be it. His people would just have to accept his choice.

Suddenly aware of where he had allowed his thoughts to wander, Blue Thunder shook his head to clear his thoughts, stood quickly, and began pacing. He had thought too long about this white woman, who might still have a husband searching for her.

Although he must not allow himself to think about the woman again in such a way, the fact still remained that she might have a lost daughter. If a small child the same age as his own daughter was missing, it would be cruel not to search for her.

He gazed toward his closed entrance flap. He wondered if he should go and ask Shirleen about her daughter, yet thus far she had ignored him when he tried to talk to her.

She must hate all men with red skin. And why wouldn’t she? It was Indians who had destroyed her world.