Wild Whispers

Kaylene’s breath and words were stolen away when she saw the travois and could see that a small body lay in the blankets on it. She placed a hand ov

er her mouth to stifle a gasp when she realized who the child must be.

Good Bear! They had found Good Bear. And . . . he . . . was dead!

She watched silently as Black Hair dismounted and went solemnly to Good Bear’s parents’ lodge.

Eyes wide, Kaylene was touched deeply when Fire Thunder’s eyes filled with tears as he knelt down beside the travois and gently lifted the young man’s body in his arms and held him for a while, rocking him slowly in his arms, whispering something to him that Kaylene couldn’t hear.

Kaylene was taken aback by this side of Fire Thunder’s personality, proving to her that he was a vulnerable, caring man, a man with feelings.

She moved to her knees, a blanket clutched around her shoulders as Good Bear’s parents walked up to Fire Thunder and stared in disbelief at their dead son.

Kaylene jumped with alarm when Good Bear’s mother began chanting and pulling at her hair.

Kaylene’s eyes filled with tears as Fire Thunder ever so gently placed the young boy in his father’s outstretched arms, then swept his arms around the child’s mother, in an attempt to comfort her.

Gentle Song ceased pulling her hair and clung desperately to Fire Thunder for a moment longer, her body trembling as her tears wet Fire Thunder’s shirt.

Kaylene felt herself softening toward Fire Thunder. Any man who showed such a kind gentleness could not be totally mean. For certain, this man’s heart was not black. He was filled with goodness.

And although she did not wish to, Kaylene felt herself becoming intrigued with him anew, her heart blending into his as Gentle Song swept away from him and followed her husband to the large council house, where the child would be prepared for burial.

Fire Thunder stood for a moment with his face held within his hands. An involuntary shiver ran through him at the thought of the child having been found in such a way. It was apparent that the child had chosen the time of his own death, and the weapon that had taken his last breath away.

He had stolen a knife and he had plunged it deeply into his own heart.

“I am so sorry about the child,” Kaylene murmured, drawing Fire Thunder’s eyes toward her. “Truly, Fire Thunder, I am so sorry.”

Fire Thunder stared at her for a moment, then swallowed hard and turned his eyes away.

“Fire Thunder, you are not to blame,” Kaylene heard herself saying, surprised that she could be sympathetic to this man who had changed her whole life the day he had abducted both her and her father. But she could not help but be moved by him and his feelings for Good Bear. She could not help but feel his hurt deeply inside herself, which proved to her that she could never truly hate him.

That she was in love with him.

She had loved him since that very first time she had seen him. And she knew that, in time, he would forget his anger and feel free to show his true feelings for her.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Fire Thunder turned toward Kaylene.

Their eyes met and held.

He felt a deep stirring of emotion within him, to know that even though he had caged this woman, she could speak to him so sympathetically, so gently.

In one quick movement he pulled the key to the cage from his front breeches’ pocket and removed the lock. He reached inside and grabbed Kaylene into his arms and carried her gently to his lodge.

Once there, Fire Thunder walked through the living room into his bedroom, and lay Kaylene on his bed.

He then suddenly knelt down over her and again held her in his arms. Then he kissed her.

Dazed by the kiss, and the suddenness of it, Kaylene lay limp within Fire Thunder’s arms.

But as his kiss deepened, and he placed a hand over one of her breasts, sensually caressing it, Kaylene became breathless with a rush of desire, and responded to his kiss and caresses with abandon.

Closing her eyes, Kaylene recalled the dream in which Fire Thunder had kissed and held her. It was as wonderful in real life. The feelings aroused in her were washing away her anger; even her reasons for being angry with him.

All that she felt was rapture—a sweet, spinning euphoria that made her lean up into his embrace, wanting more.

As though willed to, her body arched up to meet his as he moved over her and pressed himself against her.