Wild Thunder

“There will be another time,” Hannah said, feeling the sweet stirrings of need at the pit of her stomach. “But for now, I must put my brother’s needs first.”

“Go,” Strong Wolf said. “But soon we shall be together again, alone.”

“Yes, soon,” Hannah said.

Her insides stirred sensually when he reached over and placed a hand behind her neck, and then leaned and kissed her.

When he moved away from her, Hannah’s insides were trembling. When he rode off, she watched him for a moment, then looked in the direction of her brother’s ranch.

She looked at Strong Wolf again.

Suddenly she rode after him.

When he heard her approaching, he looked over his shoulder and gave her a knowing smile. He wheeled his horse around and waited for her.

Chapter 18

Words from my eyes did start—

They spoke as chords do from the string.

—JOHN CLARE

Tiny and several cowhands under his supervision sat on horseback on a butte watching a young Potawatomis brave fight off bees as he climbed a tree to get at the bee’s hive of honey.

Tiny chuckled, finding it amusing as first one bee stung the young brave, and then another.

“He’s a persistent son of a bitch. ain’t he?” Tiny said, glancing over at Clem, who sat on a horse beside him. “We’ll just wait for the young savage to do the dirly job of gettin’ the honey. Then we’ll take it from him and bring it back to the bunkhouse.”

He could already taste the honey. When the cook served biscuits the next morning, they would have the pleasure of spreading honey on the thick gobs of butter!

“I ain’t never seen anythin’ like it,” Clem said as he idly scratched his whiskered chin. “Honey ain’t worth all of those stings.”

They were surprised when the boy jumped to the ground, went to his pony, and got an ax.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tiny said, leaning forward to take a closer look. “He’s goin’ to cut down the whole damn tree to get at the honey.”

“He’d better be prepared to run, that’s all’s I can say,” one of the other men said, chuckling. “When that hive falls to the ground with the tree, bees are goin’ to scatter everywhere.”

“I think we’d better go on our way ourselves,” Clem said, spitting over his left shoulder. “I don’t want no bees to come after me. Honey ain’t worth it.”

“Aw, you’re just a yellow-bellied coward,” Tiny complained. He gestured with his hand. “Go on home like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Who cares? But don’t you go askin’ for honey for your biscuits tomorrow.”

Clem’s eyes wavered, then he set his jaw firmly and stayed in place.

The boy labored hard for the next half hour or so. Then suddenly the tree started leaning first one way, and then the other. There was a creaking sound as it swayed.

Then the young brave stepped quickly away as the tree fell to the ground. Bees flew everywhere from having been disturbed, but Wind on Wings was not disheartened. He stepped among the bees and fell to his knees where the honeycomb lay temptingly on the ground.

Frustrated, the bees returned to the hive, buzzing frantically around it as Wind on Wings ran to his pony and placed the honeycomb inside his parfleche bag and sealed it.

Smiling triumphantly and ignoring the bees that had followed him to his pony, Wind on Wings swung himself into his saddle and rode off.

But he didn’t get far. Tiny and his men soon blocked his path, giving Wind on Wings more of a fright than the dozens of bees ever could. His eyes wide, he reined in his pony and stared from man to man.

“Little savage, what’ cha got there?” Tiny asked, inching his horse closer to Wind on Wings’s pony.

Wind on Wings straightened his shoulders, to show that he was not afraid. “Let me pass,” he said, now realizing that he should not have gone so far from his village alone.