Savage Winter Page 6

  “Since the wagon train you were traveling with originated in Philadelphia, should I assume that was your home before the tragedy?”

  “Yes, my folks were very wealthy, but they sold everything when we joined the wagon train. I lost all I had in the raid, Mr. Landon.”

  Howard was a shrewd man. He knew instinctively that the girl was lying. What did she wish to gain by her deception? He would judge her to be the daughter of a poor farmer, or perhaps even a tavernkeeper, or a fisherman. She was definitely not from the gentry. He wondered why she was trying to appear to be what she wasn’t. What a poor actress she was, he thought—still, she was a pretty girl, and he could feel the heat in his loins when she licked her lips and smiled at him.

  “I know Joanna very well. I think I should warn you it won’t be easy to get her away from her Indian lover. I have heard some awesome things about this Windhawk. I hear that he is a very dangerous person to cross.”

  “Is this what you came here to tell me?” Howard asked. He was becoming weary of everyone’s telling him about that red bastard.

  “Well, yes, in a way. I thought maybe I could be of help to you, Mr. Landon.”

  “In what way?”

  Claudia leaned over in such a way that her breasts almost spilled over her gown.

  Howard’s eyes seemed to devour her, and she smiled to herself, thinking he wouldn’t be too hard to entrap. After all, she was the only pretty white female within hundreds of miles. She must play her hand very carefully, however, or she might drive Mr. Landon away before she obtained her goal. If she was smart, she would soon have all she wanted—power, money, and perhaps even a respectable name. How ironic it would be, she thought, if she were to obtain all she had ever dreamed of because of Joanna James…her worst enemy!

  Claudia looked shyly up at Howard, veiling her true feelings. “What would you give me if I were to deliver Joanna and Tag to you?”

  Howard smiled slightly. “There is nothing I wouldn’t give to get them back.” He looked doubtful. “What makes you think you can deliver them to me?”

  Claudia stood up—her eyes were gleaming as a plan began to develop in her mind. She remembered overhearing a conversation last winter between Captain Thatcher and Joanna’s hired man, Simon. It seemed that Simon was to return to Philadelphia where he would keep in touch with Joanna and Tag by sending his letters to Fort Union.

  “Mr. Landon, instead of asking some buffalo hunter or fur trader to bring Joanna and Tag to you, it would be better if you put your faith in me. I know just how to get them to come to you. Never doubt that I can do it!”

  Howard’s little beady eyes narrowed. “If you can deliver them into my hands, then you can name your own price.”

  Claudia turned her back to him as her eyes filled with hatred. At last, her day had come. Revenge would be so sweet! She had the ways and means to bring the proud Joanna tumbling off her pedestal by separating her from Windhawk. It would be an added bonus if, at the same time, she could acquire a small fortune for herself.

  “Before I help you, I must first know what you plan to do with Joanna and Tag, Mr. Landon.”

  “I see,” he studied her with his actor’s eye. This girl was no friend of Joanna’s! He could read the hatred she tried so hard to conceal in her eyes. “I intend to take them back home with me. What else would you expect me to do with them, Miss Maxwell?”

  Claudia knew Joanna wouldn’t want to be separated from her Indian lover. She remembered when Joanna had left Fort Leavenworth to return to that Indian. It was beyond her understanding why Joanna, who had all that money could buy, would want to live with the Indians. The thought of striking a blow against Joanna would give her the greatest satisfaction. Her heart seemed to burn with contempt for Joanna, the enchantress, who had stolen the wealthy, handsome Captain Harland Thatcher away from her.

  “I would help you get Joanna back for nothing, Mr. Landon. I only want her to have what’s best for her, since she is such a good friend of mine.”

  “What about Tag?” he asked, reading Claudia’s thoughts in her eyes. “Don’t you want to see him returned to his rightful home?”

  “Oh, Tag, too. He is such a dear boy.”

  “Let’s see if you can deliver, Miss Maxwell,” he said, watching the gleam in her eyes. “Give me what I want and I will not be stingy with you.” He knew Claudia was playing a game, but if she could help him get Joanna and Taggart back, he didn’t care how many games she played.

  “Tell me how you will help me accomplish what others tell me is impossible, Miss Maxwell,” he said, thinking she couldn’t possibly be of any help to him.

  “First of all, we will need quill and parchment. I can’t write, can you?”

  “I can write a fair hand. Why?”

  “You do the writing, and I’ll tell you what to say,” Claudia told him. Her eyes were gleaming brightly as Howard nodded his agreement.

  The days seemed to pass slowly while Joanna waited restlessly for Windhawk to return. She missed him, badly. Time lay heavily on her hands and she became discontent, wishing she could tell Windhawk about the child she was carrying. She knew that he would share her joy.

  Why didn’t he come? Many of the other warriors had made several trips back to the village to visit with their families. She tried not to feel hurt by Windhawk’s neglect, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself.

  Sometimes, late at night when Joanna was alone in the lodge and the village was quiet, the strange premonition would return, and she would try to push it from her mind. She was waiting for something to happen, and she didn’t know what it was. Only time would prove if she was worrying for nothing, she told herself.

  Windhawk rode into the Piegan Blackfoot village with six of his warriors. The chief had sent word he wanted to see him on a matter concerning the Assiniboin tribe, who were getting bolder in their raids into Blackfoot Territory.

  He walked solemnly toward the big lodge in the center of the village and was greeted warmly by the new chief, Yellow Wing, who clasped his arm in Indian fashion.

  “Come into my lodge, Windhawk, and we will talk,” Yellow Wing said, holding the flap aside for Windhawk to enter.

  Inside, Windhawk and Yellow Wing sat down, and the women served them food.

  “I was glad to hear that you had become chief, Yellow Wing,” Windhawk said, taking a bite of the buffalo meat.

  “I do not think anyone misses Running Elk. He was a cruel man, and my people are happy that he is dead.”

  Windhawk nodded, remembering the day he had come to the Piegan village to rescue Tag from Running Elk. Tag had been badly mistreated, and Windhawk still became angry when he remembered the red welts on the boy’s back where Running Elk had beat him.

  “I am glad to hear that my brothers have a brave and noble chief.”

  After they had eaten, Yellow Wing handed Windhawk a pipe and Windhawk took a draw. “I have heard that you are concerned about the Assiniboin, Yellow Wing,” Windhawk said, handing the pipe back to him.

  “Yes, they have raided our horses and, two moons ago, killed six of my warriors.”

  “They are brave to raid so deep into our territory. I think they believe we will not retaliate,” Windhawk said, watching as one of the women sat down beside him and stared boldly into his eyes. He looked quickly at Yellow Wing to see if this woman was his wife and if he would take offense at the woman’s strange actions.

  “This is my daughter, Red Bird,” Yellow Wing explained. He, too, wondered why his daughter was acting so strangely.

  Windhawk nodded to the woman, then dismissed her from his mind. He turned back to Yellow Wing and the problem of the Assiniboin. “So far, they have not come near my village. I will post extra guards to make sure we are not taken unaware,” Windhawk said.

  He could feel Red Bird staring at him, and he turned once more to look at her. She gave him a smile and then looked at her father with a pleased expression on her face. Windhawk was irritated because the woman was presen
t while he and Yellow Wing were discussing their common enemy. He knew the women of his Bloods would never be so bold as to place themselves near him when he was having a council meeting.

  “I have sent for you to warn you to be wary lest you be taken by surprise,” Yellow Wing told Windhawk.

  Windhawk stood. “I am indebted to you for this information. If you find yourself in trouble, you have but to call on your brothers, and we will come to your aid.”

  Yellow Wing stood also and nodded his head. “I think that time will not come. The Piegans can easily handle the Assiniboin. I think the time will come when we shall have to make war on them.”

  “I will say good-bye to you now,” Windhawk said. “I have a long ride back to the buffalo camp.”

  “Do not go until morning, Windhawk. I would be honored if you would stay the night in my lodge,” Yellow Wing offered.

  “The sun has already set; perhaps I will leave in the morning,” Windhawk said, moving to the flap and pushing it aside.

  Joanna awoke from a deep sleep and sat up. She saw the fleeting shadows on the wall of the lodge that were caused by the flickering cook-fire, and she shivered. It was as if a cold hand had just closed over her heart. Lying back down, she tried to empty her mind so she could go back to sleep, but she found she was unable to rid herself of the uneasy feeling. She closed her eyes and wished that Windhawk would soon come home.

  Windhawk was only half awake when he felt something soft brush against his body. For a moment, in his sleep-drugged state, he thought it was Joanna, and he reached out and pulled her to him. He clasped his hand about her waist, then slid it down to her stomach. Suddenly, he became fully awake. It was a woman all right, but it wasn’t Joanna! Joanna’s waist was tiny, and her stomach was smooth and flat. This woman was much larger.

  “Windhawk,” Red Bird whispered in his ear. “Long have I seen you from a distance and wanted to feel your hands on me.”

  Windhawk tried to push Red Bird away, but she laughed and bent her head to find his lips. He stiffened as her mouth covered his.

  Chapter Six

  The unbearable summer heat continued to parch the land. Rivers that usually ran full to their banks were now dangerously low and mud-colored. The grasses were dry and spindly, causing the herds of buffalo to move out of the area in search of grazing land. The Blackfoot warriors, as always, followed the trail of the buffalo.

  Windhawk had been away from the village for almost two months. Joanna continued to feel restless and irritated because he hadn’t come home. She had thought that by now he would, at least, have come back for a visit, but that hadn’t been the case. She still watched many of the other warriors come and go as they took time out for brief visits to their families, but her husband hadn’t come to her.

  At one point, Windhawk had sent word to Joanna that he and his warriors were following the trail of the buffalo. That had been over three weeks ago. Since that time she had heard nothing from him.

  At first she had felt extremely lonely without Windhawk. That loneliness had now turned to anger. If the other husbands could visit their wives, why then couldn’t Windhawk come to see her?

  She wanted to tell him about the child she was carrying, but that wasn’t the kind of news a woman sent to her husband by a messenger.

  Windhawk had sent his kills back to the village with several of his warriors. By now all the meat had either been cured or made into pemmican, which was dried and stored for the winter months when food was scarce. The hides had been tanned and made into soft robes or stored away for future needs. The lodge was spotlessly clean, and Joanna felt time weighing heavily on her hands.

  She had been so proud of the fine shirt Sun Woman had helped her make for Windhawk. Sun Woman had given her some blue beads and Joanna had attached them to the front of the shirt. It had been fun embroidering the beads onto the shirt in the shape of a hawk with a wide wingspread, as if the bird was in flight. As the weeks passed and still Windhawk hadn’t come home, Joanna had angrily packed the shirt away.

  It was a scorching hot day as Joanna and Windhawk’s sister walked toward her lodge. Joanna had been suffering from morning sickness and was trying to cover it up, not wanting anyone to know about the baby she was carrying until she could tell Windhawk.

  Morning Song watched Joanna out of the corner of her eyes. She could tell Joanna was upset by the way she bit her lower lip, and she wanted to comfort her.

  “I am very angry with your brother, Morning Song. Am I his wife or just a convenience that he notices when the mood strikes him?”

  “You are upset becase Gray Fox brought you no word from Windhawk?” Morning Song inquired.

  Joanna neared her lodge and angrily threw the flap back, then went inside and sat down on a buffalo robe before she answered. “No, I am angry because Gray Fox could come home to see his family and Windhawk stays away from his. He is treating me as if I don’t even exist!”

  “Joanna, as chief, Windhawk must make many sacrifices. I know he would rather be here with you, but he must put himself last. He feels he must set an example for his warriors to follow,” Morning Song defended her brother.

  Joanna faced Morning Song angrily. “I doubt that the village would fall into ruin if Windhawk were to come home for at least a day to visit his own wife. It would serve him right if I weren’t here when he did return!”

  Morning Song sat down and took Joanna’s hand. “I know why you are upset. You have heard about the chief of the Piegans giving Windhawk his daughter and that Gray Fox has brought her to our village. I do not think you should worry about this. Windhawk loves you.”

  Joanna felt her heart contract. “What are you saying? I have heard nothing about Windhawk and another woman!” Joanna could hear her own voice rising hysterically.

  “Did not Gray Fox tell you that the Piegan woman was to stay in his lodge until Windhawk comes home?” Morning Song asked, wondering why Joanna was reacting so strangely. Surely, she couldn’t be jealous of that woman.

  Joanna stood up on shaky legs. “Is this woman to be Windhawk’s wife?”

  “I do not think Windhawk will take Red Bird as his wife, but he could not insult the chief of the Piegans by casting his daughter aside. It would have been a very bad thing, would it not?”

  “I am beginning to see things much more clearly now!” Joanna cried, feeling as if she had been betrayed. “Windhawk found no time to come to see me, yet he has been with this other woman!” Joanna fought against the angry tears that came to her eyes. She looked upward as they fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  Morning Song stood up and tried to take Joanna’s hand, but Joanna turned away from her. “My sister, do not be hurt. I am sure Windhawk will explain everything to you when he comes home. Have faith in him. He would never turn away from you for this woman.”

  “I want to see this woman,” Joanna said through clenched teeth. Her eyes were blazing and her anger had almost reached its zenith. “Bring her to me at once!”

  Morning Song had never seen Joanna so angry. She rushed from the lodge to do as Joanna had told her. She was puzzled by Joanna’s reaction. Though Windhawk had the right to take as many wives as he chose, he had promised Joanna he would take no other wife, and he would not break that promise. Morning Song knew her brother was an honorable man and would never break his word. She knew her brother’s love was great for Joanna. Whatever his plans were, he would never take Red Bird into his lodge.

  Joanna gripped the lodgepole so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Now she knew why Windhawk hadn’t come to her. He was waiting until she grew accustomed to the idea of his taking another wife. She looked about the lodge where she had been so happy as his wife. She knew she would never share her husband with another woman.

  Her mouth flew open in horror. Dear God, how could he expect it of her? How did he plan to move this other woman in? Did he expect them to sleep three to a bed, or would she be banished to a corner while he made love to the other woman? She wante
d to cry out in anguish. How could Windhawk have betrayed her?

  Joanna covered her eyes with shaky hands. She had believed Windhawk when he had told her he would never take another wife. Had he meant it at the time? Was he tired of her already? She thought how foolish and naive she had been, believing that happiness could last forever.

  Joanna heard movement outside the lodge and dried her eyes, then straightened her shoulders. She would meet this woman whom Windhawk had used to betray her.

  Morning Song entered, leading Red Bird by the hand. She looked at Joanna apprehensively. “Joanna, this is Red Bird.”

  Joanna assessed the woman carefully. She appeared to be some years older than herself—small in stature, but large-boned. Her long dark hair was braided and interwoven with silver beads. Joanna could see why Windhawk would want this woman for his wife, for she was very lovely, and she was of his own kind.

  While Joanna was looking the Indian woman over, she was aware that Red Bird was also assessing her. Joanna read something akin to hatred in the woman’s dark eyes and realized, at that moment, that they would be bitter enemies.

  “I have heard much about the Flaming Hair. Windhawk has said you are of the white skin,” Red Bird spat out, giving Joanna a disapproving glare.

  “I have heard nothing about you,” Joanna said. “It is said that you came to our village at my husband’s command. Is this the truth?”

  The woman smiled. “I have come to await Windhawk’s return. When he comes, he will make me his wife.”

  Joanna looked at Morning Song and noticed she was frowning at Red Bird. Could she also sense the animosity the woman directed at her?

  “I am told that you are the number one wife, Flaming Hair. I am the daughter of a powerful chief. I think you will soon be second to me!”

  Joanna’s temper flared at the woman’s forwardness. How dare she make such outrageous statements? “I am second to no one, Red Bird. You will never see the day you will know Windhawk as your husband.” Joanna’s voice sounded calm, but she was anything but calm on the inside.