Brave Heart

Tilting her head, Serena whispered, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you say.”

“She said ‘rest’!” Wolf snarled in English.

Tensing at the snapping tone in his voice, Serena glared at Black Wolf. Her Irish temper welled up within her. But the warrior could come over and knock her silly, or rape her if she foolishly made the scathing retort that she wanted to. Without a word, Serena slowly stretched out and lay down. Deer Woman patted her shoulder awkwardly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Serena wanted to comfort the woman, but didn’t know how. Instead, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Jealousy ate at Wolf. In that moment, he hated Deer Woman’s ability to gain Cante Tinza’s trust. Her words had come out in a husky breathiness that stirred his loins. What would it be like to tame all that fire and spirit and have her give the gift of herself to him? Pushing down brutally upon the stone, he crushed the root, the powder spilling off the sides and onto the skin that would collect it.

Nothing could erase the haunting, husky quality of Cante Tinza’s voice within him. Wolf heard the emotion in it, wanting it for himself. Somehow, someway, he would gain her trust. He would tame her with the intent of making her his wife. This was the woman he wanted to carry his children. Despite her torture at the hands of the wasicun, her spirit moved him powerfully. It didn’t matter if she was already married or had a family. He understood real love because of his sisters and their husbands. But could he really keep Serena selfishly for himself if she was truly in love with her wasicun husband? Wolf’s conscience chafed at him, and yet he was unwilling to look too closely at the questions—and the possible answers.

Stealing a glance at Cante Tinza he saw that she had closed her eyes. Her thick red lashes caressed her almost translucent flesh. She walked in beauty in his eyes. Her abundant red hair was a brilliant halo of fire framing her thin face. Wolf ached to brush her hair as she sat with her back to him, to run the strands through the elk-bone comb and watch them curl and slide cleanly through his fingers. And she would enjoy his worship of her, too. There were many ways for a man to love his woman. He would teach her that not all men hurt. Not all men brutally took without asking or giving something of beauty in return.

No, Wolf thought, the grinding becoming less angry now, I will show her that a man can be her friend as well as her lover. She won’t want to leave our tribe. I will make her stay. Somehow, I will convince her to stay and be my wife….

Chapter Four

Serena moaned and moved restlessly, the nightmare of Blackjack raping her now invading her dreams. With a cry, she jerked upright. Perspiration clung to her skin. The tepee was empty, save for the baby in the cradleboard, who was softly whimpering. She had no idea what time it was, but she could still see soft sunlight touching the pine poles that came to a point far above her.

Heart still pounding, Serena discovered she felt a bit stronger, perhaps because of Deer Woman’s kindness in giving her something to eat last night. She focused all of her attention on the baby, who was now beginning to sputter in earnest. The child’s cry forced Serena to stir. Why did the wife of the warrior leave her baby behind? The fire was near the cradleboard, and Serena worried that the end of the long-haired buffalo robe might ignite.

Pushing off the heavy, thick robe, Serena slowly moved into a kneeling position. She brushed her hair away from her face, realizing it desperately needed washing. The baby’s cries strengthened, so Serena crawled on her hands and knees the necessary ten feet to reach the cradle.

“Ohhh,” she cooed softly as she turned the cradleboard toward her. The Indian child was snugly wrapped in several rabbit furs, her tiny round face and huge brown eyes visible. A lock of black hair had escaped and curled across her forehead. A slight smile tugged at Serena’s mouth as she carefully removed the furs and set them aside. “Why are you crying?“ she asked as she explored the baby’s fawnskin diaper, which was filled with the soft down of cattails. Her fingers detected that the material within the diaper was very damp.

“Ah, I see. You’re wet.“ Serena was amazed that the Indians used nature’s material, and it worked just as well as a cotton diaper! Looking around, she saw a number of square and rectangular rawhide parfleches, all colorfully painted with individual designs in reds, blues and yellows. Sliding her hands beneath the baby, she eased her into her arms. Serena examined the fawnskin diaper and discovered it was held in place by two knots. Cooing to the child, who had stopped crying, she laid her in her lap. Serena smiled down at the infant, who stared up at her in fascination. In no time, she had taken off the diaper.

“I’m different, am I not?“ she asked the infant quietly as she held her against her bosom. Her breasts were still sore and swollen, but Serena fought to ignore the pain because she intuitively understood that an infant needed the cradle of a mother’s bosom to feel safe and loved. The tepee was warm because of the still glowing fire that burned inside in a deeply dug hole. Still, Serena worried about the baby becoming chilled, so she took the rabbit furs out of the cradleboard and covered her with them.

The baby cooed and lifted her tiny hands, entranced with Serena’s long, tangled red hair. Little fingers touched the burnished hair, and Serena’s smile deepened.

“You’re a pretty colleen.“ Serena leaned down, pressed a kiss to her brow and inhaled deeply. Babies always smelled so clean, so fresh. Serena’s heart blossomed with a fierce feeling of motherly concern over the vulnerable child. The months of hell Serena had endured with Blackjack subsided as the baby’s bowlike lips broke into a smile, her fingers happily investigating strands of Serena’s hair. For the first time in a long while, Serena felt an unparalleled peace flow through her. In amazement, she realized it was due to the baby in her arms, who was studying her with so much adoration and trust.

The elkskin hide across the entrance to the tepee was pulled open. Serena tensed, her eyes widening. It was the same warrior. He was dressed in a buckskin shirt and leggings. The breechclout was made of red wool and hung to midthigh. There were porcupine quill designs on the shirt in vivid red, yellow and blue. His thick, black braids were wrapped in glossy, dark brown otter fur, with bright red cloth above and below the sleek fur. He wore a white bone choker around his neck, which held a round, pale pink shell in the center of it. Below the choker was another necklace displaying a single, large tooth.

Wolf halted halfway into the tepee. He saw Cante Tinza sitting there, tense, holding Dawn Sky. The woman’s eyes were huge with vigilance. Realizing he was holding the flap open and the warmth was escaping from the tepee, Wolf quickly shut it and moved inside. Where was Deer Woman? She had promised to take the baby with her. Had she left the infant behind again?

Wolf carefully held on to his anger because he realized the red-haired one was able to sense such a thing even if he didn’t show it. He moved slowly to his pallet, a mere five feet from her. The driving need to reach Cante Tinza, to make her understand that he wasn’t going to hurt her, overwhelmed Wolf. He set the freshly killed rabbit aside and devoted his attention to her.

Pointing to himself, he said, “Tashuunka, Wolf.“ Then he pointed at her and asked, “Suna?”

Mouth dry, Serena clutched the baby to her breast. The dark look in the warrior’s eyes made her uncomfortable. Yet when he spoke his name, Wolf, her heart slowed its frantic beating. Again, he repeated his name and her name.

Gathering up all her courage, Serena whispered, “Wolf?”

A pleased look came to his face, and he nodded gravely. “Han, yes. Wolf. You, Suna?”

She shook her head. “Not Suna. Serena.”

Wolf scowled and quickly looked down at the moccasins on his feet. The deerskin leather was wet from his foray into the woods and he needed to change into a dry pair. Her voice, trembling and husky, sizzled through him. English was not an easy language to speak. The r sound wasn’t used by the Lakota, and he found it difficult to even form the sound on his lips.

Looking up, he slowly met her wary gaze. “Sunan?”

A part of Serena relaxed as she saw Wolf’s face lose its hardness. She saw him trying to move his lips into the correct position to say her name. It was his eyes, a curiosity gleaming in them, that kept her on guard.

“Serena.”

Snorting, Wolf shook his head. He lifted his hand in a gesture of patience. He pointed to her and said, “Heart,” and he thumped his chest where his heart lay. “I not say other name. Cante Tinza, Brave Heart,” and he touched his chest again.

The baby cooed happily, her attention and fingers lost in the array of Serena’s red hair. Sensing Wolf’s effort to communicate with her, Serena repeated, “Heart?”

“Yes, Cante, chonteh. Heart.“ He gave her a slight nod and added, “Brave. Tinza, tinzah.”

“Tinza? Brave?”

Wolf grunted, pleased. “Han. Yes!” He pointed to her. “You Brave Heart. Cante Tinza, not Suna.”

“I’m Cante Tinza?”

“Yes!”

The pleasure radiated from Wolf’s rugged features, and for an instant, Serena felt his joy over establishing communication with her. Brave Heart. It was a beautiful name, a courageous name. She watched his facial expressions closely. Deer Woman had had trouble pronouncing her name, too. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to let them call her whatever they wanted. And then Serena realized it didn’t matter, because she was a prisoner.

She looked down at the baby. “The baby’s diaper was wet. That’s why I took her out of the cradle.”

The English words came too fast, and there were too many of them for Wolf to understand. Frustrated, he opened his hands. “Eh?”

Serena pointed to the baby.

With a grunt, Wolf said, “Dawn Sky.”

“Dawn Sky.”

“Han.”

Serena pointed to the baby’s bare bottom and the discarded diaper in the cradleboard. “Wet,” she said.

“Ho,” Wolf muttered. Showing her he understood, he unwound from his crouch and moved to locate the parfleche that contained several folded fawnskins and dried cattails. He heard Cante Tinza gasp. Realizing he’d moved too quickly, that she still was highly mistrustful of him, Wolf halted. Cante Tinza sat there, the baby clutched to her breast, her eyes narrowed. It wounded his pride that she continued to fear him. Hadn’t he shown her he was her friend? That he’d just honored her with a sacred and powerful name? To be given a Lakota name by a medicine man was considered the highest of honors. Wolf admitted she knew nothing of his people’s customs. But surely Cante Tinza realized he had treated her in a friendly fashion.

Lifting his hand, he murmured, “Safe. Cante Tinza, safe. No hurt.”

No hurt. Serena stared up at Wolf, his bulk filling her vision, the shadow of his form dancing against the skin of the tepee behind him. Shadows frightened her even more because Blackjack would often appear out of the shadows of the night after silently entering her bedroom and rape her. Forcing herself to relax, Serena placed the baby in her lap as Wolf moved with deliberateness to the rear of the tepee, behind the cradleboard. He brought forth a rawhide container and placed it in front of her.

Crouching down, Wolf opened the container. “Look,” he invited, and gestured for her to come and investigate the parfleche. She eyed him and didn’t move. Understanding all too clearly how much she continued to fear him, Wolf stood up and backed away.

Keeping one eye on the warrior across the tepee Serena peered inside the container. Delighted to find the dry diapers and cattails, she realized Wolf was trying to help her take care of the baby. Licking her dry, chapped lips, Serena nodded. “I understand.”

Again, moving slowly, Wolf knelt nearby and removed the damp fawnskin from the cradleboard. Taking out a clean, dry skin, he laid it on the robe between them and placed a handful of the dry cattails across the surface. Looking up at Cante Tinza, Wolf held out his large hands, silently asking her to pass Dawn Sky over to him.

Serena nodded and gently lifted the baby toward Wolf’s outstretched hands. The baby’s fingers were twisted among several strands of her hair, and as Serena placed the infant in Wolfe’s care, she was forced to lean forward. Her heart beat raggedly as she moved closer to Wolf and untangled her hair from Dawn Sky’s little fingers.