Swift Horse

“We have been friends since we were young braves anxious to walk in the moccasins of warriors,” Swift Horse said, smiling over at her. “We have been together much. Do you not see that I would know an evil side of this man were there one to know? He is good, Marsha. My friend would give his life for me. He almost did.”

“I want so badly to believe what you believe,” Marsha murmured. “But I just can’t see it in the same way.” She visibly shuddered. “I will never forget that one eye leering at me right after he killed my parents. He . . . he . . . would have killed me, too, had it not been for those soldiers who had survived the ambush. He knew that if he stayed any longer, he would also die. He rode away quickly and was soon lost to my sight, as well as the soldiers’.”

“I will help you find the one-eyed man who did you wrong,” Swift Horse said softly. “But I must see to my chiefly duties first. Winter with its cold winds and snows will soon be upon us. It is important to get the hunt behind us, and then the harvesting of our crops is next. Once these things are finished, then I will gather together many warriors and will go on a different hunt—a hunt for the man who wronged you.”

“You would do this for me?” Marsha asked, her eyes wide as she gazed into his, then she sighed heavily and looked away from him, for she knew the real killer would be overlooked.

Seeing her look away, and hearing her sigh, Swift Horse placed a gentle hand beneath her chin and drew her eyes back around to gaze into his. “I promise you today that the man who took your parents from you will pay for his crime,” he said thickly. “I will be the one to make him pay. But you must trust me.”

His eyes searched hers, making her feel weak with passion, something she had never felt before for any man. She felt dizzied by it.

Sh

e collected herself and slowly nodded. “Yes, I do,” she murmured. “I do trust you.”

Suddenly he had his arms around her, and she found herself, as though by magic, twining her arms around his neck.

Their lips came together in a sweet kiss of bliss that made Marsha forget all ugliness of the world. While she was in this man’s arms, everything was wonderful—was safe!

Then he withdrew from her, yet he still had his hands on her cheeks as he smiled into her eyes. “I have not allowed myself to love before, because my duties as chief have been foremost on my mind since I took over those duties upon the death of my father,” he said thickly. “But I cannot help but love you.”

He gazed intensely into her eyes. “I can see it in your eyes that you love me, too,” he said. “I felt it in your kiss. Tell me. Tell me you love me.”

“I do,” Marsha murmured, sighing. “Oh, but I do. I felt something the first time I saw you, yet . . .”

“Yet you were afraid to feel something for a man whose skin is not the same color as yours—a man who is an Indian,” he said, his voice drawn.

“It was not so much that I was afraid because you are an Indian. It was just that I wasn’t sure of my feelings. For, you see, I have never loved before,” she murmured. “I didn’t want the attraction to be only because you were a powerful chief, whom everyone admires and loves. I wanted to be sure it was true love, and not infatuation.”

“And you are certain now?” he asked, placing his arms around her waist again, drawing her closer.

“Oh, so very,” she said, her breath captured in another kiss as his lips came to hers. She felt as though she were floating above herself, she was so taken by the kiss and his embrace. She knew now that everything in her life had changed, for love had taken center stage!

At this moment in time, even the memory of her parents’ death seemed to have faded to the farthest recesses of her mind.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips as he slowly brushed them against hers now, not so much in a kiss, but a caress.

“My heart no longer belongs solely to my people,” he whispered back. “It is yours, too, forever and ever.”

She looked into his eyes, stunned that this was truly happening!

Chapter 15

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.

—William Shakespeare

Marsha was just pulling an apple pie from her oven when she heard a scream that almost made her drop the pie pan. She quickly placed her pie on the windowsill to cool, then rushed to the door and opened it.

A part of her was afraid to go on outside, for it was a woman’s scream that she had heard.

She yanked off her apron, tossed it over her shoulder, and then walked outside just in time to see Bright Moon rushing to Soft Wind’s cabin.

“Soft Wind . . .” she gasped, her eyes widening when she now saw Swift Horse hurrying into the cabin that sat beside his own.