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“She was, ah, muy bonito, very pretty,” Fire Thunder said. “I surmise that she is at least eighteen winters of age. I wonder if she is yet married?”
“You, who avoid speaking of marriage to a woman like it is the plague, speak of it now when you have only seen this woman once?” Black Hair said incredulously.
“I have only avoided women because none have yet stirred my soul with such longings as I . . . feel . . . now for this woman,” Fire Thunder said. He cleared his throat as he gave Black Hair an awkward glance. “This goes no farther, Black Hair. This is something spoken between you and myself only. I am my people’s chief. I do not want to look weak in their eyes because I have been intrigued by a woman.”
“A white woman . . . a stranger . . . a carnival person,” Black Hair
did not hesitate to say.
Fire Thunder ignored Black Hair’s thoughts on the subject. And Black Hair knew that this was only a fleeting thing, for Fire Thunder would never see the woman again.
“I do wonder what goes on inside the carnival’s mystery tents,” Fire Thunder blurted out.
“Perhaps you would not want to know,” Black Hair said, then lay down to sleep.
Fire Thunder stayed musing by the fire for a while. Then he spread his blankets out, and snuggled into his bedroll.
But he couldn’t go to sleep. He kept seeing those green eyes and the soft smile of the woman.
Finally he drifted off into a restless sleep.
Yet even then he could not escape the green eyes and smile.
He dreamed of the woman.
She was in his arms.
She was so delicate, so sweet, so loving.
Their lips met in a trembling kiss.
He filled his hands with her breasts, their touch like silk against his palms.
Slowly she lowered her dress past her thighs.
He grew hot all over when she allowed him to touch her between her thighs, where she was wet with need of him.
He caressed her there until she cried out with soft pleasure.
She, in turn, caressed him, until he spilled his juices into the tiny palm of one of her hands.
Then their bodies met.
He plunged himself deep inside her.
They tangled and sank into a chasm of pure rapture....
His heart pounding, his body aching with need, Fire Thunder awakened in a fever. His eyes were wide. His breathing was rapid.
“It was a dream,” he whispered huskily to himself.
Dreams held great significance to the Kickapoo. Fire Thunder’s people believed that the dreamer’s spirit was actually able to leave the body during sleep and observe the happenings of dreams. That was why it was important not to wake people in the midst of dreaming. Proper time must be given for the spirit to return to the sleeper’s body.
Of course, not all dreams were meaningful, but his people paid attention to the messages held in certain dreams.
Fire Thunder knew that this dream tonight had much meaning.
He looked toward the heavens. “Grandfather, I must find a way to make it real! I . . . must . . . find her!”
