Wild Rapture

Echohawk swept the baby up into his arms. He unfolded the blanket and looked down at the tiny face, quickly taken by the child, as though he were his own.

He held the child up high, for all to see, chanting, then relinquished the chi

ld back to his father, laying him across his chest so that Silver Wing could be with his son until his last breath.

Silver Wing reached out a hand. “Echohawk, lean close,” he said, his voice growing weaker.

Echohawk bent to one knee beside Silver Wing. “I am here,” he said softly.

“Echohawk, for so long I have labored diligently for peace between the red man and white,” Silver Wing managed to say between bouts of wheezing. “Repeatedly . . . I have averted bloodshed by taking hot-blooded braves out of a projected raid.” He paused, inhaled a shaky breath, then added, “Echohawk, argue against war of retaliation. Renew pleas for peace.”

“But what of White Wolf?” Echohawk questioned, deep inside his heart wanting to seek out the renegade and kill him slowly. “He still lives. You die!”

“The Chippewa have a high sense of honor to defend,” Silver Wing said, his breathing becoming more shallow. “Forget White Wolf. He flees even now the wrath of the Chippewa, like a dog whose tail is tucked between his legs.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Echohawk, I have . . . spoken . . . my mind. Heed what I have said. . . .”

Nee-kah managed to scoot over close to Silver Wing. Sobbing, she clung to him, then stifled a scream behind a hand when she realized he had taken his last breath.

Mariah clutched Echohawk’s arm and looked away from Silver Wing, overtaken by grief. Echohawk leaned down and took the child from Silver Wing, and after Nee-kah composed herself, gently placed the child back into her arms.

Echohawk took Mariah’s hand and urged her down on her knees beside Silver Wing. Echohawk began to chant quietly, while Mariah listened. Recognizing the torment in her husband’s voice, she knew of only one thing that could fill his heart with gladness again. That she was with child, their child....

Chapter 30

She was swayed in her suppleness to and fro

By each gust of passion.

—Desprez

Several Days Later

Her cloak around her shoulders, Mariah went to the entrance flap and smoothed it aside, anxious to go and visit with Nee-kah and Strong Branch while Echohawk was hunting, not only to see her best friend and her godson but also to try to lift Nee-kah’s spirits since the death of her husband. Nee-kah knew of Mariah’s anxiousness to become Echohawk’s wife. But she did not know that Mariah was most definitely with child. Mariah was going to share two secrets with her best friend today.

Everything wonderful would happen tonight, Mariah marveled to herself, feeling giddy. She would finally be Echohawk’s wife, and she was going to reveal to him that their lives were going to be blessed with a child.

Just as she stepped out into the snow. Mariah found a large buckskin bag lying close to the entrance flap, bulging with something inside it.

She lifted an eyebrow as she looked questioningly down at the bag, wondering why it was there, and what was in it.

“Take it inside,” Echohawk said, suddenly there on his horse. He swung himself out of his saddle and went to Mariah. “This is yours. Take it inside and see what the women of the village have given you.”

Mariah’s lips parted in a surprised gasp. “But why?” she then said, looking with wonder up at Echohawk.

A young brave came and got Echohawk’s horse and led him away to the others inside the fence at the far end of the village. Echohawk lifted the heavy bag and placed his free hand on Mariah’s elbow, ushering her back inside the wigwam as she lifted the flap for their entrance.

“Remove your cloak,” Echohawk said, setting the bundle on the mat flooring. “Sit by the fire and see what gifts the women of our village have given you.”

Mariah slipped her cloak off, still marveling over the surprise. After Echohawk had his cloak off, she went and sat beside him close to the buckskin bag. Her fingers trembled as she opened the bag, sucking in a breath of delight when she caught sight of the lovely beaded necklaces, moccasins, and dresses.

“I still don’t understand,” she murmured, taking the items from the bag one by one, loving them all.

“These are yours today because I have given the women permission now to give you wedding gifts,” Echohawk said, lifting one of the beaded necklaces, running his fingers admiringly over its intricate design.

Mariah’s heart thrilled not only over the loveliness of her gifts and the generosity of the women but also over knowing that finally the time had arrived for their marriage ceremony.

Until now so many things had gotten in the way.

Mariah laid aside the blanket with beautifully colorful designs sewn on it and lunged into Echohawk’s arms, causing him to drop the necklace he had been admiring. “Darling,” she whispered, brushing his lips with a kiss, “I am so happy. We soon will be married! I had begun to . . . to feel like a loose woman, perhaps my mother’s true daughter. I don’t want to be like her, Echohawk. Please tell me that I’m not.”