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Soon the deer were within the enclosure. The warriors had a great hunt, taking back to camp much meat, and many skins to be tanned for garments.
And as soon as all the warriors came in with their loads of meat, there would be a feast. Tomorrow they would return home so that the women could smoke the meat and tan the hides. No one would be without food or clothing during the long, cold months of winter.
Thinking about the winter ahead made Jessie think of something . . . someone . . . else. She placed a gentle hand on her stomach. She knew that when Thunder Horse learned about her child, it would not change how he felt about her. She and her unborn baby would have a safe, warm shelter this winter.
Yes, she knew that Thunder Horse, whose heart was filled with love and caring, would not turn away from her because she carried another man’s child. The child was born of a rare sort of love. She and Steven had cared deeply for one another, but theirs had not been a passionate love, only one that was comfortable and respectful.
When she was with Thunder Horse, passions she’d never known could exist were awakened inside her. She felt a wondrous thrill to imagine how it would be the first time they made love. It would be something she would cherish forever and ever. . . .
She had become so lost in thought, she hadn’t heard Thunder Horse come up behind her. He sat down beside her on the thick pallet of blankets a short distance from the fire.
“It is done,” he said, reaching over and sliding a stray lock of her hair back from her brow. “I have thanked the deer for all they have given us today.”
“It seemed to be a good hunt,” Jessie said as she scooted closer to Thunder Horse. She noticed that he was fresh and clean from a bath in the river.
“My warriors are skilled hunters. They can smell a deer before the deer smells them,” he said. “Every boy hunts from his fourth or fifth year of life, first chasing rabbits with a bow and wooden arrow, and later with larger bows and arrows that are strong enough to kill a deer or an antelope. He learns to creep upwind, slowly, with no more stirring than a bull snake easing up on a gopher in the grass. Those young boys grow up into the finest of hunters, men of patience, guile, and speed.”
“Do you hunt often?” Jessie asked, wondering how often Thunder Horse would be gone from home after they were married.
Yes! She did believe they would be married! Although such a union was taboo among whites, she could not imagine life now without Thunder Horse.
“There is more than one fall hunt,” Thunder Horse patiently explained as he stared into the leaping flames of the fire, his stomach reacting to the smell of the meat cooking over the coals.
“There is first the deer hunt, and then the hunt for buffalo to provide the heavily furred robes that keep us warm against the blizzard winds. The buffalo also give us beds and winter lodge floors and linings, in addition to the fat meat and the tallow for cooking,” he said. “Fall also brings ducks and geese to hunt. Then during even the longest winter there are rabbits to be snared and trapped.”
He stopped to nod a quiet hello to other warriors who had come from their baths in the river and were settling down around the fire, anticipating the food that would soon be offered by their wives.
Then he smiled at Jessie and continued describing the hunt. “After the midsummer hunt, the jerky hardens fast and sweet in a few hours of hot wind, and hides are easily cleared of their thin summer fur for lodge skins, saddlebags, shield and regalia cases,” he said. “When we hunt the buffalo, young cows are selected. The skins are lighter and thinner, softer and easier to tan and handle; the meat is better, too, more tender and fat-veined.”
He was interrupted when a maiden brought a large wooden platter of food, which he would share with Jessie.
Jessie gazed at it, not recognizing anything on it.
Yet knowing that she must not be rude, nor appear to doubt what was being offered her by the Sioux, she eagerly took a piece of meat and ate it as everyone else sat down to enjoy the fruits of their long day’s labor.
Jessie gazed around her, noticing how happy everyone was, the women now sitting with their husbands, eating and laughing.
/> She noticed that no children were there. When she asked why, Thunder Horse told her that they were home with the elders, as were the warriors who had been assigned to remain in the village to protect the old as well as the young.
She noticed that Sweet Willow wasn’t among the women and knew that she would be caring for White Horse in Thunder Horse’s absence.
She knew that Thunder Horse’s mind drifted often to his father; White Horse seemed to worsen now more each day. Thunder Horse had told her that the day was coming soon now when his father would be put to rest among the other great chiefs of their Fox clan.
“I have prepared a place for us to sleep separate from this camp,” Thunder Horse said softly into Jessie’s ear, causing her to turn and gaze into his dark eyes.
“Will you come with me?” he asked. “Will you sleep with me?”
“Do you mean . . . sleep separate as we have slept in your tepee at the village?” Jessie asked softly. Yet already she guessed the answer to her question from the look in his eyes, a look of love and need, which matched what she felt within her own heart for him.
“No, not separate,” Thunder Horse said, shoving the empty platter aside. “I wish for you to share my blankets alongside me tonight. I prepared a special place for us after giving thanks for the hunt to my brother deer.”
“You already prepared it?” Jessie asked, her eyes wide, her pulse racing.
She was feeling a sensation between her thighs that she had never felt before. It was a pressure of sorts, yet felt strangely delicious.
She had been told by friends how it felt to sleep with a man when one was deeply in love. The feelings that were being awakened inside her were surely what they had been talking about.
Her heart pounded. Her knees were strangely weak.
