Brave Heart. Lindsay McKenna
observations, he searched for ways to get her to relax with him present in the tepee. He gathered up Dawn Sky, who fit easily within his large hands. Softly, he began to sing her a lullaby. Perhaps his singing, which all in the tribe had said was wonderful to hear, would help Cante Tinza relax.
The deep, slow chant moved through Serena. She closed her eyes, remembering that voice from some lost part of her memory. It was his voice that had given her refuge in the turbulent state of her violent emotions. But he was a man. And capable of hurting her any time he chose. She was now a prisoner of the Sioux. Yet each time a new fear arose, it was neutralized by his chanting.
Unable to fight all her fears, Serena succumbed to the tone of his voice, allowing it to wash across her and cleanse away the tension making her rigid.
Wolf finished the chant, smiling down into the baby’s round features. Dawn Sky broke into a delightful laugh and he chuckled.
The rumbling laughter that filled the tepee made Serena tense. Her eyes flew open and her gaze locked on his.
Wolf was wildly aware that Cante Tinza’s green eyes were upon him. It was one of the few times in his life that he didn’t know what to do, so he followed his heart, his unerring guide. Tucking Dawn Sky in the crook of his right arm, he carefully broke contact with the wasicun’s frightened gaze and returned to caring for his niece.
Throat constricted, Serena gulped. The man was aware of her, but he made no move to attack her or even approach her. Sweat bathed her and she lay there, soaking in her own fear. Taking several gulps of air, Serena lay tensely, waiting. When nothing happened for several minutes, she pried open her eyes, forcing herself to look at him.
“Now, little one,” he told Dawn Sky, drawing the cradleboard to him and placing her into it. “If we can find Deer Woman, perhaps she will take you to the river with her to gather willow for the basket she plans to weave.”
Wolf avoided looking at Cante Tinza as he rose slowly, not wanting to alarm her. One did not move quickly around a wild horse, and that was how he was going to treat her. Slipping out of the tepee, he carried his niece toward the central fires where the cooking for the village was undertaken. The morning was warm, and the sky was a blinding blue color. Birds were singing melodically, telling Wolf that no enemy stalked their camp.
Little Swallow was skinning a rabbit caught by her husband earlier when she saw Wolf approach her tepee.
“Tiblo?”
“I look for Deer Woman,” he answered, halting nearby. Little Swallow looked rested this morning, and for that, he sent a prayer of thanks upward to Wakan Tanka, the Great Mystery.
“She is nearby.”
“I want her to care for Dawn Sky. Cante Tinza is awake and I must try to get her to speak with me.”
Little Swallow’s skilled hand hovered over the partially removed skin from the rabbit. “I have not heard her scream yet.”
“Yet,” Wolf muttered nervously. “I am sure she will. If she does, will you come and help? Deer Woman is going to be of little use to me in this matter.”
Smiling, she nodded, continuing to cut away the skin with sure, short strokes of the knife. “Of course I will. Leave Dawn Sky here. My oldest daughter will care for her until we see Deer Woman.”
Wolf hesitated, knowing that Little Swallow’s duties were many. He was torn between getting back to Serena and finding Deer Woman.
“Leave her, tiblo. She will be fine with us,” Little Swallow chided.
“Very well. I can see why no warrior would want Deer Woman. She acts childish and will not take a woman’s responsibility as she ought to.”
“Stop muttering, Wolf, and go back to your red-haired one. Do not give your power away to such a young woman who has yet to mature into her body.”
Wolf wiped his sweaty hands on his buckskin leggings as he walked back through the busy village. Everywhere he looked, the women were preparing skins, sewing or cooking. Most of the men, the hunters among them, had left hours ago to catch game. The children all played happily down by the river. Some of his nervousness abated as he allowed the peace that pervaded the village to be absorbed within his pounding heart.
Serena’s gaze moved to the entrance when she heard a scratching noise. Her eyes widened considerably when she saw the same warrior come inside. Hands tightening against the robe, she watched as he faced her. There were twenty feet between them. Twenty feet between assault or peace.
Wolf held out his hand to her. “Name Black Wolf. I not hurt you. Understand?”
For once, he wished mightily that he’d worked harder on perfecting his English with the traders who frequented the tribe throughout the summers of his youth. Tensing, he saw the fear and hatred return to her eyes. The silence hung heavily on his shoulders, and he now knew what real helplessness was as he waited those pregnant moments to see what she would do. He tried to prepare himself for her to scream once again.
Serena struggled to sit up. As the robe fell away to reveal the white cotton gown she wore, she stared down at it and then up at him. She wrestled with the harshness and cruelty that were a part of his features compared to the softness of his low voice. What could she believe? His sincerity of tone or his threatening male countenance? And who had undressed her and put her in this gown?
Wolf saw indecision and fear in her emerald eyes. Little Swallow had been right: he must switch to the wapiya side of himself, the one that enabled him to sense and feel. Sensitivity never led him wrong, and he consciously shifted to that compass called his heart. Making each movement slow, as he would with a wild horse to be tamed, Wolf eased back on his heels and crouched, his hand still extended.
“Suna?“ It was a pretty name, a melodic one, he thought.
Her eyes narrowed on his face. “How do you know my name?”
“My sister, Little Swallow. You spoke it to her last night.”
Already her arms were shaking from supporting her weight. Serena felt light-headed and even a little hungry. She sat up straighter, still unsure of him. “Stay away from me!”
Wincing at the anger and plea in her husky voice, Wolf froze. “You are safe here. I—no one will harm you.”
Sweet Mary, how she wanted to believe him! She saw the kindness in his wide, intelligent eyes but could not cling to that one piece of evidence. His mouth was generous, but pursed and thin. Kingston had thick, fleshy lips that always pouted when he was stalking her. Serena rasped, “I do not believe you!”
Grimly, Wolf glared at her, inwardly railing at her stubbornness. “I am Black Wolf. You live here. I want you well.“ He chastised himself for the clipped way his words came out.
His tone didn’t go unnoticed by Serena. She compressed her lips into a stubborn line. “If you so much as lay a hand on me, I’ll fight you until I’m dead. No man is ever going to touch me again! Do you hear me?“ she shrieked.
Wolf leaped to his feet and retreated, his chest heaving with anger and hurt. Stupid woman! Could she not see he was being kind and careful with her? He heard someone enter the tepee, breaking his dazed state. It was Deer Woman with his niece.
“What is wrong?“ she asked, looking quickly from Wolf to Serena.
“Everything!” Wolf roared at her. He stalked to the entrance. “Stay here for once and take care of things as you are supposed to do! I will return later.”
Stunned by his anger, Deer Woman stood holding the baby for a few moments after Wolf’s departure. She placed the cradleboard on his pallet and folded her hands in front of her, then walked over to the wasicun. She knew no English, but wanted somehow to speak with her.
Serena sat there, watching the young woman in a golden buckskin dress beaded on the bodice with brightly colored flowers. There was eagerness and excitement in her eyes as she approached her.
Smiling shyly, Deer