Song of the Raven (Daughters of the Prairie 3) - Page 35

“We must go. Her father has no doubt missed her by now, and he will track us.”

“You have not left him anything to track, have you?”

“No. But he is an excellent tracker, clearly. We must be on guard. It would be prudent to make haste back to camp.”

“Agreed,” Raven said. He moved away from Ella, but leaned down and nipped her earlobe. “When we reach camp,” he whispered, “I have plans for you, my wife.”

Chapter Eleven

Ella’s nerves scuttled as she rode into the Lakota encampment that was Raven’s home. Her bottom sore, she clenched her fingers tightly in the fabric of her ripped bodice, covered herself as best she could, and leaned backward into Raven’s solid torso, hoping his closeness would ease her discomfort. Conical tent structures spotted the vast area. Horses grazed, and little brown children ran about, not seeming to notice Ella. Men and women, though, told a different story. Black eyes pierced her from every angle. She tensed and grabbed Raven’s strong forearm.

“Do not be afraid, tehila,” Raven said into her ear.

“But they’re all staring.”

He chuckled and pressed his lips to her neck. “That is because you are so beautiful.”

“It’s because I’m so pale,” she hissed.

“Bear is as pale as you are.” He motioned to his brother who rode beside them.

“No. He is tanned. From the sun. I am not. My mother always insists on my sunbonnet.” She was babbling. She knew it. It didn’t ease her nervousness. “Where are we going?”

“To my tipi.”

“You really live in tipis? I didn’t believe it, but now I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Some tribes call them lodges. But yes, we do live in tipis.”

“Are they…comfortable?”

“I do not know that word, tehila. But the tipis serve us well. Now, in the heat of the summer, we cover them with a thin buffalo hide that helps them stay cool inside. In the winter, we drape heavier cloths around the inside to stay warm.”

“But why not build a cabin? Surely that would serve your purpose just as well.”

“Because the tipis can be taken down and transported easily.”

“Why would that matter?”

“We follow the buffalo, tehila. When they leave an area, so do we. The buffalo provide us with meat, fur, hide. We go where they go. And then there are other times when…” His deep voice trailed off with words unsaid.

“What, Raven?”

“Sometimes we leave to avoid conflict with the white men.”

Ella’s stomach clenched, and she gripped Raven’s forearm harder. Those black eyes that speared into her no doubt knew what the white people had done—were still doing—to them. And she was one of them.

“Why, Raven? Why do you leave? Why don’t you fight the white men?”

“Some tribes do. Our chief, Black Wolf, is my grandfather. He chooses to exist in peace. He would rather leave than lose his people to a fight they cannot win.”

Ella’s stomach lurched again. Raven’s people would despise her. “Can’t we go away together, Raven? To a place where we’ll both be accepted for who we are?”

“If I knew of such a place, tehila, I would take you there. I would hunt for you and our children, and I would need nothing more than your love to sustain me.” He sighed, and his warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “But such a place does not exist for us. Fear not. My people will accept you.”

Again the piercing stares stabbed Ella’s prickled skin. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Trust me.” He pressed a moist kiss to the side of her neck. “I have already told my father that I found you. Love is a mystery. A beautiful mystery that only the Great Spirit understands. My people will accept you, because I have accepted you as the mate of my spirit.”

Tags: Helen Hardt Daughters of the Prairie Romance
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