Wild Whispers Page 7

  He was in awe of how the panther, in an effort to stop the blood flow, lapped up the blood with his tongue as it poured from Kaylene’s wound.

  Running Fawn had taken advantage of her father’s absence. She had sneaked away with three other friends and had met the young Mexican men at their secret trysting place in the forest, many miles from their village.

  Running Fawn and Pedro Rocendo, the son of the powerful Mexican general who ruled from his villa in San Carlos, had slipped away from the others and had spent the night making maddening love.

  It was coming close to the time when they would have to return to their own villages.

  Suddenly Running Fawn’s friends and their three young Mexican lovers sneaked up on Running Fawn and Pedro and jumped out from behind the bushes, laughing and joking.

  “Running Fawn, my beautiful señorita, you must have some tequila before you return to papa,” Miguel teased as he staggered over to Running Fawn and Pedro and fell clumsily down beside them.

  Starshine, one of Running Fawn’s friends, tripped and fell on the other side of Running Fawn, her face flushed from the tequila she had already consumed. “Come on, Running Fawn,” she said, yanking the jug of tequila from Miguel.

  He shoved it into Running Fawn’s hand after she had managed to quickly lower her skirt, her face flushed from having been discovered making love so openly with Pedro.

  “I must not drink any,” Running Fawn said, shoving the jug away. “And I must return home now. If my father returns home before me and finds me gone, he will never forgive me.”

  “Señorita, you have stayed this long. It shouldn’t hurt to stay longer,” Miguel said, grabbing the bottle from Starshine and shoving it forcefully into Running Fawn’s hands.

  She had no choice but to take it, else drop it and spill the stinking stench of tequila all over her skirt.

  “Do not be, eh, what is it you say, Miguel, when I do not do as you ask?” Starshine said, giggling as she leaned her face into his, running her tongue across his thick lips.

  “Do not be a prude,” Miguel said, yanking Starshine closer, his hands cupping her newly budded breasts through the cotton fabric of her blouse. He yanked her closer and kissed her, their tongues flicking between each other’s lips.

  “It might steady your nerves,” Pedro urged. “It might ease your fear of your father.”

  “I do not fear him,” Running Fawn spat out. “I . . . just . . don’t want to antagonize him.”

  And to prove that she could do anything her friends could do, Running Fawn tipped the jug to her lips and choked down several swallows.

  “There, now don’t you feel better, sweet señorita?” Pedro asked, placing an arm around her waist, drawing her close. She held the jug away from her as he licked the tequila from her lips, then kissed her.

  Giggling, the tequila lethal to a young maiden who never touched the stuff, Running Fawn soon felt giddy and lightheaded. She pushed Pedro away and took another long, deep swallow.

  “That’s enough,” Pedro said, grabbing the jug away from her.

  He had waited too long to take it from her. Dizzy, and feeling her stomach doing flip-flops, Running Fawn ran behind a bush and retched.

  When she stepped back into view, swaying, she smiled awkwardly at Pedro, then fell in a dead faint on the ground.

  Pedro panicked. He was afraid that there was no way that Running Fawn’s father would not discover where she had been tonight, and with whom.

  “I must get her home,” he said thickly. He looked at the others.

  The girls scrambled to their feet and, wild eyed with worry, ran off into the forest toward home.

  “Cowardly señoritas!” Pedro shouted after them.

  He watched his friends run away also.

  Alone with Running Fawn, he sighed, then picked her up in his arms and carried her toward home.

  When he came to the outside edge of the Kickapoo village, he stopped and laid her gently on the ground.

  Bending low over her, Pedro gently shook her by the shoulders. “Running Fawn, wake up,” he whispered. “You must get home. Now! Oh, pretty señorita, wake up, or we shall never be able to meet like this again. Your father will guard you. I . . . don’t . . . think I can live without your loving now that I have tasted of it!”

  Running Fawn groaned and rolled over on her side.

  Afraid to wait any longer, Pedro took one long last look at her, then rose to his feet and ran into the shadows.

  Chapter 6

  Oh, love more real than though

  such dreams were true,

  If you but knew.

  —ANONYMOUS

  Stunned at the sight of the panther with Kaylene, and realizing that it must be her pet, Fire Thunder stared a moment longer.

  He came out of his trance when Black Hair ran up to him, a rifle in his hand.

  When Black Hair saw the panther he aimed at it.

  “No!” Fire Thunder said, shoving Black Hair’s rifle aside. “Do not shoot it!”

  “Why would I not?” Black Hair said, his eyebrows raised inquisitively.

  “Shoot your rifle, but not at the animal,” Fire Thunder said. “Fire one shot into the air to frighten it away. That is all.”

  Black Hair stared disbelievingly at Fire Thunder for a moment longer, then did as he was told.

  Fire Thunder watched the animal lurch with fright, and then lope away into the dark shadows of night.

  He paid no heed to his warriors who had been awakened by the gunfire and were now there, relieved when they saw that their chief was not in danger.

  “What happened?” Black Hair asked, staring down at Kaylene and the blood-soaked sleeve of her gown.

  Then his eyes widened when he saw the knife in Fire Thunder’s hand.

  “It was the panther,” Fire Thunder said, his gaze shifting, to look at his knife. “It came out of nowhere. When Kaylene saw that it was ready to pounce on me, she stepped in the way.” He gave Black Hair a quick glance. “The panther means something to her. It must be her pet. It somehow knew to come to her rescue.”

  Fire Thunder stared at the bloody knife again. He shivered, knowing whose blood. Then he leaned over and wiped the knife clean on a thick stand of grass, and slid it back inside its sheath.

  Again he looked at Kaylene. The pooling of blood beneath her arm, and the way she lay, so helpless and unconscious on the ground, made Fire Thunder move quickly. He knelt down beside her and ripped the sleeve of her gown open and peered intently at the knife wound. He was relieved to see that he had missed the bone.

  “You carry medicinal herbs with you at all times,” Fire Thunder said, looking at Black Hair. “I will carry Kaylene to the camp. You ready the herbs. We shall apply them to her wound.”

  Black Hair nodded and turned and pushed his way through the milling warriors.

  With a gentleness, Fire Thunder slipped his arms beneath Kaylene and lifted her.

  When she groaned and her eyes fluttered slowly open, Fire Thunder waited for her to look up at him, guilt washing through him.

  Through a pain-induced haze, Kaylene gazed at Fire Thunder. “What . . . happened . . . ?” she whispered, her one arm lying limp across her stomach.

  “I am glad that you are awake, but now is not the time to talk,” Fire Thunder said, holding her closer. “I must take you back to the warmth of the campfire. I must see to your wound.”

  Pain spread through Kaylene in great hot waves. “My wound?” she whispered. Her eyes drifted slowly closed, then flew open again. “What . . . wound . . . ?”

  Not wanting to explain just yet, nor wanting to alarm her into worrying her about her panther, Fire Thunder ignored her question.

  Instead, he ran toward the campsite, his warriors moving aside to make a path for him.

  “Oh, no,” Kaylene cried, suddenly recalling everything. “Midnight! Where is Midnight?” She gathered a fistful of Fire Thunder’s buckskin shirt in her free hand and yanked at it. Wild-eyed, she looked up at him.
“Tell me you didn’t shoot my panther! Tell me!”

  “Your panther is all right,” Fire Thunder said, his eyes wavering on hers. “It ran into the brush. I realized, by how it came so gently to you after . . . after.... I plunged the knife into your shoulder, that it meant something to you. I did not shoot it. I did not allow Black Hair to shoot it.”

  Kaylene exhaled a quavering sigh of relief, then closed her eyes as the waves of pain swept through her shoulder again. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely audible. “Midnight . . . is . . . everything to me. Everything.”

  Stunned to know that she would have such a connection with an animal, Fire Thunder stared down at her. He started to speak to her, to apologize for all the trauma that he had brought upon her, but she had drifted back to sleep.

  For now he knew that was best. He was not sure just how much he should say to her when he apologized. Should he take advantage of this moment, when she was vulnerable, to tell her that he intended to keep her, to make her love him so that she would stay willingly? Or should he allow things to develop slowly between them? Surely she still held much resentment deep within her heart for what he had done to her father.

  Could she ever truly forgive him?

  Or would she someday understand why it had to happen that way?

  Such a man as her father could not be allowed to continue abusing children. If Fire Thunder had not stopped him, then who would have . . . ?

  Back at the camp, where the fire was still burning high, Fire Thunder laid Kaylene on a blanket beside it.

  Then he saw Little Sparrow being held by another warrior. She was wriggling to get free, wanting to see what had happened. Fire Thunder had always ordered his men to, at all costs, keep his sister from harm.

  As at all other times, tonight they had obeyed him. When they heard gunfire they had not known the cause, and did not know if their chief was hurt or not. So they had not wanted to take his sister there, possibly to see her beloved brother injured.

  “Set her free,” Fire Thunder said as he gave Little Sparrow a nod and a smile. Then he spoke to her slowly, telling her that he was all right.

  She watched his lips carefully, understanding each word.

  He could see her look of shock as she turned and went to kneel beside Kaylene. She clutched frantically to Fire Thunder’s arm as she pleaded up at him with her eyes.

  “She will be fine,” Fire Thunder explained. He clasped her shoulders. “Little sister, you just sit down now and be calm. I have to see to Kaylene’s wound.”

  A warrior brought Little Sparrow a blanket and slipped it around her shoulders.

  Eyes wide, Little Sparrow clutched the blanket and watched Fire Thunder as he tended Kaylene’s wound. A part of her heart ached from seeing her newly found friend injured. Why did Kaylene lie so quiet? Why did she sleep so soundly?

  Was Kaylene dying? Little Sparrow thought in fear.

  But she did not disturb her brother with any more questions. He had to fix Kaylene’s wound. And it was obvious to Little Sparrow that he had deep feelings for the white woman by his gentleness with her, and by the way he would occasionally gaze at Kaylene’s face, as though he adored her.

  This made Little Sparrow feel somewhat better. A hope blossomed inside her that just perhaps her brother did love this woman. Although Little Sparrow was only eight, she had been told in sign language by her older friends about love, and how it sometimes happened between two people. Some said that it happened at first sight! Had it happened this way for her brother?

  She smiled at the thought, then winced and turned her eyes away when Fire Thunder took a dampened buckskin cloth and began bathing the blood from Kaylene’s wound.

  Black Hair came and knelt beside Fire Thunder. He opened his small buckskin pouch.

  Fire Thunder nodded to him and watched as Black Hair slowly sprinkled the medicinal herbs on the knife wound. The wound soaked up the herbs like a sponge, the blood quickly disappearing.

  “It will heal well now,” Black Hair said.

  He tightened the drawstring and slipped the tiny pouch in his rear pocket as Fire Thunder wrapped Kaylene’s wound with soft buckskin.

  Black Hair stood up and ushered the warriors away from Fire Thunder, giving his chief privacy.

  His assistance no longer needed, he himself went back to his bedroll and stretched out under the blankets. He watched for a while how his chief tended to the white woman. He knew without a doubt that this woman was in his chief’s blood, in his life, forever.

  Sighing heavily, wishing it were not so, Black Hair turned his back to Fire Thunder, and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted to his daughter. He hoped that she was asleep in her bed. He wished that she would find a Kickapoo warrior with whom to share her love instead of wasting it on someone not of their beliefs and customs.

  Hopefully, in time, he could turn his daughter’s life around. He did not want to see it wasted. She was his life, for he had sworn never to marry again. Losing one wife in a lifetime was enough. If he also lost his daughter . . . ? He was not sure if he could bear it. Life would surely lose its meaning.

  Fire Thunder gently drew a blanket over Kaylene, up to her chin, then sat down beside her and looked at her at length.

  But when he heard the cry of the panther in the distance, and felt the danger, he reached for his rifle and placed it close beside him.

  Little Sparrow sat with her gaze on Kaylene, waiting for her to awaken.

  Kaylene’s eyes slowly opened, and she found Little Sparrow there. Little Sparrow was so glad to see her friend awake, she hurried to Kaylene and softly kissed her cheek.

  She then turned to her brother. In sign language she asked Fire Thunder to return Kaylene to her mother, that although Little Sparrow wanted to have Kaylene as a friend for always, it was not fair to keep her from her family. It wasn’t right to hold her captive.

  Fire Thunder explained to his sister that this was something a small child must not interfere with. He asked her if she did not trust her brother’s judgment in all things?

  Little Sparrow lowered her eyes, then looked up at Fire Thunder. She nodded, saying that yes, she had never doubted him.

  She would not doubt him now.

  Feeling tired, and hardly able to keep her eyes open, she stretched out beside her brother. Forcing her eyes to stay open, she watched Fire Thunder and Kaylene as they began to talk.

  She wished that she could hear. She wished that she could talk—she had so much to say!

  She so badly wanted to hear the words spoken between the white woman and her brother, to see what kind of relationship was forming. But she had to settle for watching their lips and trying to see by that how things were between them.

  And she could also watch their eyes. Eyes said so much to someone like Little Sparrow, who had learned to observe people way more closely than those who took hearing and speaking for granted.

  She badly wanted to continue watching, but her eyelids grew heavier . . . heavier. She curled up in a fetal position and allowed sleep to possess her.

  Fire Thunder reached over and covered Little Sparrow with a blanket, then turned back to Kaylene when she continued to talk.

  “My shoulder feels much better,” Kaylene said, reaching her hand beneath the blanket, feeling the bandage. “It is painful, yet not searing. What did you do to take away the pain?”

  “Black Hair placed medicinal herbs directly on the wound after I bathed it,” Fire Thunder said, realizing that they were actually speaking civilly to one another. For the moment, Kaylene was not challenging his each and every word.

  This enabled him to see the sweetness of her personality that he knew was there, hidden beneath the surface.

  But he did not expect it to last for long. After she was stronger, he knew she would become as belligerent as before.

  But in time, that would pass again, and her true self would always be there for him to marvel over.

  “Had I not stepped in the way, you would have killed my panth
er,” Kaylene said, her voice suddenly drawn. “I gladly took the knife that was meant for Midnight.”

  “Midnight?” Fire Thunder said. He stretched out beside her and leaned up on an elbow, facing her. “That is what you call the panther?”

  “Yes, because he is the color of the darkest of midnights,” Kaylene said, closing her eyes for a moment when sleep fought to claim her.

  “How is it that you have a panther for a pet?” Fire Thunder asked. He watched her eyes open again, mesmerized anew by their green color.

  “It happened a long time ago,” Kaylene murmured. “I found the panther when it was quite small. Its mother had been killed. I took it in and cared for it. Midnight and I have a close bond.”

  She paused and lowered her eyes. Fire Thunder could tell that what she had to tell him next might be painful . . . might be regretful.

  “My father took advantage of my friendship with the panther,” Kaylene said, looking up at him again. “He . . . he . . . turned us into a carnival act. We became his favorite sideshow.”

  “Sideshow?” Fire Thunder said, lifting an eyebrow. “I am not familiar with that word. What does it mean? What did your father force upon you and the panther?”

  “Force is the right word,” Kaylene said bitterly. “I never wanted to do it. But he insisted.”

  “Insisted?” Fire Thunder prodded. “What did he make you do?”

  “A sideshow means an exhibition,” Kaylene said, recalling that first time she had slipped onto the back of her panther. She had been only ten. Although she had not wanted to be stared at, and she had not wanted to make her pet into something gawked at, she had felt a certain excitement in riding the panther around the roped-off area inside the tent. There had been a thrill in the applause.

  She explained to Fire Thunder how she had performed with her panther, and how obedient he had been to her every wish.

  “You see, my panther is special,” she murmured. “Please never harm him, for I am certain that he will come to me again. Our hearts are one and the same. Our bond can never be broken.”