“That is so beautifully put,” Shirleen murmured, more and more in awe of this man the longer she knew him.
She was so blessed that he would soon be her husband.
He would be her daughter’s father!
“I must go now and sit with my uncle alongside Speckled Fawn for a while,” he said thickly. “We will take but one day to mourn his death. He has been ready to go and join his loved ones among the stars for a long time.”
He took Shirleen’s hands and looked into her eyes. “In truth, his passing is a joyous time for me, as well as sad. It was painful to see my uncle so different from the way he used to be, a strong and vital person . . . a beloved shaman.”
He framed Shirleen’s face between his hands. “My woman, I feel deeply for my uncle’s wife, for if I did not know earlier, I do know now how much she loved him and is truly grieving his passing,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“Yes, she did love him so much,” Shirleen said softly. “I could tell by the way she talked about him to me. Were he young and more vital, she could not have loved him any more than she did.”
“Soon, my love, soon we shall join hands and hearts as husband and wife,” Blue Thunder said. He gently lifted her off his lap. “I shall make certain no harm befalls you or your child ever again. I will protect you, my woman, with my life.”
Shirleen flung her arms around his neck and met his lips with her own. Their kiss was all consuming, and then he was gone from the tepee, leaving her alone with her child.
Tears flowed from her eyes—joyous tears at the thought that she and her daughter had found a new life. They would be safe and happy among these beautiful people, and especially with Blue Thunder.
Going to kneel beside Megan, Shirleen gently touched her cheek, then bent low and kissed her tiny lips. “Sweet thing, you are with your mommy now, and I promise you that no one will ever harm you again . . . especially not your evil papa!”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Quick!
I wait!
And who can tell what tomorrow may befall.
Love me more, or not at all.
—Sill
Lurid flashes of lightning could be seen through the smoke hole. Loud rumbles of thunder ensued as Blue Thunder sat beside Speckled Fawn and they gazed at their lifeless loved one.
Speckled Fawn fought back tears. She had already shed so many as she sat with Blue Thunder in silence, both grieving the passing of a wonderful man.
Yet Speckled Fawn could not keep her thoughts completely focused on her departed husband. She kept hearing the horrible words that Earl had spoken . . . about how he had raped, then killed Blue Thunder’s wife!
The day Shawnta’s body had been found was one of pure horror. She had been brutally raped, then stabbed to death.
When she had been brought back into the village in her husband’s arms, it seemed that the world stopped dead still at that moment. The whole Wind Band had come from their lodges to see their fallen loved one, and to witness her terrible death.
Mourning had been sudden and intense. It had lasted for days upon days until Blue Thunder had finally given up his wife to the spirits.
But although she was in the ground, Blue Thunder had still not given her up completely. He had sat at that gravesite for hours at a time, usually only coming home to sleep.
He had not eaten during that time of grieving, nor had he performed his chieftain’s duties, which had been carried out by his most trusted warriors.
After he finally accepted his loss, he had spent days, weeks, even months, searching for the one who had killed his wife.
But no matter how far he rode with his warriors, searching for anyone who might know of a man who would be so evil as to ambush a lone woman and defile her body in such a way, no one knew the answers to his questions.
It was only recently that people had begun to whisper that Big Nose and his renegades were responsible. Yet Big Nose was elusive, seemingly impossible to capture.
Unable to hold inside herself what she knew any longer, Speckled Fawn reached a hand over and placed it on Blue Thunder’s arm, drawing his questioning gaze to her.
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