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She didn’t tell him about her husband’s death, nor her parents’, which had left her alone in the world except for Reginald. And also she did not reveal that she was with child. She thought it would be better to explain those matters later.
She felt something beautiful flower in her heart as she looked again into Thunder Horse’s eyes. It was something she had never felt before.
Her husband had been more friend than lover. Their relationship had never been passionate.
For the first time in her life, she felt sexual attraction for a man. But she knew that she must fight these feelings.
He was an Indian. He was a powerful chief with much more on his mind than the welfare of a mere woman.
Thunder Horse was vastly relieved to know that Jessie didn’t belong in any way to Reginald Vineyard, that she wasn’t his wife, but a cousin.
He knew now that she was free to be loved, yet he reminded himself again that his first duty was to his people, especially his ailing father.
It was wrong to become romantically involved with any woman at this time, especially one with white skin.
But he did feel many things for Jessie; feelings he found hard to fight.
For now, the first thing he must do was to get her to safety at his village. All else would come later.
Strange how knowing that she wasn’t married made him feel giddy—a new feeling for him!
He walked her to her horse and helped her into the saddle, then went to his sorrel and swung himself onto its back. They rode off together toward his village.
Jessie prayed to herself that Reginald would never find her, or it could bring trouble not only to herself, but also to Thunder Horse and his people. She knew the history of the Indians in this area, and realized that none of them needed any more trouble from whites. Whites had already taken almost everything from them, including their freedom.
But what did remain was pride.
She saw it in Thunder Horse’s every movement, and heard it in everything he said.
He was more of a man than most white men ever could be!
Chapter Sixteen
Lone Wing stood just outside Thunder Horse’s tepee as his chieftain uncle rode toward it, the flame-haired woman called Jessie riding beside him on a magnificent white steed.
Lone Wing smiled proudly at Thunder Horse as their eyes met. He was so proud that his uncle had done as he’d asked.
The woman, ah, she was so beautiful, and so vulnerable, but now no longer alone.
He looked around, noticing how all activity in the village had stopped as everyone watched the arrival of their chief with a white woman. Lone Wing saw a mixture of emotions in the people’s eyes.
Some showed contempt for the woman because she was white. Some showed wonder that their chief had gone to get a woman they had all heard him order away only a short while before.
Lone Wing smiled at that, certain they would all know in time why their chief had changed his mind.
“Lone Wing, go for Hawk Dreamer,” Thunder Horse said as he drew rein before his lodge. He nodded at a young brave who stood nearby. “Little Wolf, come and take my horse and the woman’s. See that they are put safely in my corral.”
Thunder Horse dismounted and handed both reins to the brave, then went and helped Jessie from her steed and motioned toward his entrance flap with the wave of a hand.
“Come with me,” he said. “My nephew has gone for our village shaman. He will look at your hands and place medicine on them that should make them feel better soon.”
Touched deeply by Thunder Horse’s change of heart, Jessie could not say thank you enough times to prove her gratitude, but she said it again anyway.
“You are so kind,” she murmured. “Thank you so much, Chief Thunder Horse.”
When he took one of her hands, Jessie felt her knees grow suddenly weak from the passion his touch invoked within her, for he was not only holding her hand, but also gazing into her eyes with a look that melted her heart.
“You do not need to address me as chief ever again,” Thunder Horse said, searching her eyes with his. “I am Thunder Horse to you and my closest friends.”
