“She came here willingly?”
Well, willingly wasn’t quite right, but he hadn’t actually dragged her either. He’d threatened to, of course.
They’d bargained. But he wasn’t accustomed to lying in Sioux life, and neither was he ready to speak the truth.
He frowned instead. “We had trouble coming here. A party of Crow warriors attacked. They were very far east. I don’t remember the last time I saw Crow so deep into Sioux land. They seized my wife. We followed and seized her back.”
“And the Crow warriors?”
“Are dead.”
“I’d heard you brought Crow ponies.”
“Yes.”
Crazy Horse glanced at He Dog. “I don’t understand this either, why the Crow would attack a white woman on our hunting grounds, and when she was so close to her own people. The Crow tend to become scouts for the whites—against us. It’s very strange to me.” He shrugged. “There was an incident, though. Some young Oglala bucks rode out to raid a Crow camp not long back. They stole a number of ponies and the daughterof a Crow war chief. The girl wanted to be stolen. She is now the wife of Stands-Against-Darkness. But perhaps Crow warriors are riding in revenge. They cannot attack our camp here. There are too many of us. But you must take extra care when you ride back. Perhaps you had best gather more braves to ride with you when you leave here.”
“Cougar, Willow, and I are accustomed to taking care of ourselves.”
“But you are riding with your wife. Her hair alone, I understand, might be considered a great prize to any man. You are white—and Sioux. You are Thunder Hawk, a brave who took many coup against them, even as a young mixed blood. Sometimes, though, that blood can tell. You cannot see danger as clearly as perhaps you should. Your wife would be a very great prize to a Crow.”
Hawk inclined his head. “Crazy Horse, you grow richer in wisdom each year.”
“His wife counted coup on her own against the Crow,” Sloan said. “She fought them, struck them.”
Crazy Horse arched a brow at Hawk. “It’s good that you killed them all. Is she that fierce? A brave woman. One who fights to protect her home and children. Bravery is as commendable in a woman as in a man.”
“Oh, she is brave. She’s very fierce!” Willow said, a smile tugging at his lips. Hawk noted that his cousin refused to look at him, but he did refrain from telling Crazy Horse that Skylar had fought him with just as much vehemence as she used against the Crow.
He forced a smile to his lips. “She’s a dove,” he said. “An absolute dove.”
Crazy Horse smiled. “I have learned not to steal wives. I am happy with Black Shawl. I wish you happiness. You, too, have suffered the losses of many loved ones. I am glad of your wife—even if she is white. And your children…they will be so white.” He said the words very sadly. “I am anxious to see your wife.”
Hospitality was very important. Though Hawk had his own home in the white world, here, among the Sioux, his grandfather’s home was considered his as well.
“Will you eat with us tomorrow?” he asked Crazy Horse. Crazy Horse would want to see not just what his wife looked like, but he would want to judge her “wifely” attributes as well. He wouldn’t expect her to be an expert tipi maker or skinner, but he would certainly expect her to make a good meal. Skylar was a good cook. She had made a delicious soup the night he had discovered they were married. He just wondered what her reaction would be when he told her they were having Crazy Horse to dinner. And that she was to serve but not eat with them.
Skylar would be receptive, he determined. She had to be. And if not… He remembered the gut-wrenching feeling he’d experienced when the Crows had taken her, the agony of watching her touched by another, fear, fury. Longing. Hurting. Wanting. He hadn’t wanted a wife. Truth. He didn’t want one now. Lie. He wanted his wife. He was tantalized, captivated by his wife. Holding something…and still not knowing what he held. She had sworn she never meant to hurt his father, and he believed her, believed her to such an extent that he was sorrier than he could ever say for whatever fear and humiliation he had caused her in the certainty that she had. Yet, God! He wanted something from her, something he couldn’t shake, drag, or demand. He wanted to understand her, wanted to know what was driving her, what made her ready to cast her fate to the absolute horror of himself. He could still see her face when she had looked up at the Crow who had attacked her. She had looked at him the very same way.
Because he was Sioux. That fact hardened his heart each time he found himself too enamored of the perfect beauty of her face,the softness of her hair tangled against him, the silk of her skin against his own…
If the Crows had taken her, he would have spent his life killing Crows. Every last one. Until he perished himself. He didn’t want to shake her, strangle her. Beat her. Hurt her.
Hmm.
Bribery remained.
He smiled. “I’m very anxious for my friend Crazy Horse to see my wife. You will come?” Even if Skylar proved to be difficult, they’d be in his grandfather’s home, with his grandfather’s wife, to help.
“I will come,” Crazy Horse said. “We’ve known you would come, of course. Many of the women have wanted to make you especially welcome here, should you bring a wife. They have made a special tipi for your wife. I’m sure that they have shown it to her by now and that she will await you there.”
“A special tipi of her own,” Hawk said and smiled. He inclined his head. “How very generous.”
Crazy Horse inclined his head in turn, offering Hawk a shrugging smile. “It is our way.”
“It’s our way,” he said.
“No wife yet for you?” Crazy Horse asked Sloan.
