Melanie slipped farther back into the darker shadows of the wigwam, then stopped when she could go no farther. She leaned her back stiffly against a pile of bear pelts, watching the squaw begin to attentively bathe her chief. First she bathed the paint from his face, then moved the cloth to his massive copper chest.
Melanie scarcely breathed as she watched the squaw place her cloth into the water and then remove the chief's loincloth and moccasins, leaving him totally naked. Chief Gray Falcon's dark, penetrating eyes burned into hers as he watched her with a sort of amused interest, a mocking smile lifting the corner of his lips.
Embarrassed, stunned, and frightened, Melanie turned her eyes away, knowing now that the chief was being readied for a seduction.
Her own!
Her gaze went to the bows and arrows again. But she knew that she did not have a chance in hell of getting to use them. She could still feel the chief's eyes on her, watching.
A great flash of lightning showed through the smoke hole overhead and the ensuing burst of thunder made Melanie grab herself with her arms. She hugged herself, trembling, then looked slowly around when she heard the rustle of feet close beside her. It was Blue Blossom. She was changing the position of the smoke hole opening, for it had just begun to rain in torrents outside.
Her chore finished, Blue Blossom knelt down beside Melanie. She touched her face softly. "Do not be afraid," she whispered. "Nothing is going to happen to you. My chief is now going to get needed rest. He drank too much of the white man's firewater. I soon will bring you food to eat. Then you can rest again also."
Grasping this sudden chance at friendship, Melanie moved closer to Blue Blossom. "You speak English so well," she whispered, ignoring Gray Falcon's continued stare. "You do know Shane, don't you?"
"Yes," Blue Blossom said softly, lowering her hand to her lap. "We in this village all know and love Shane. And you do, also. I know why you are here. Is Shane well?"
"Very, but I am sure that by now he knows that I have been abducted and is very angry," Melanie whispered harshly.
"I know," Blue Blossom murmured, moving back to her feet. "I must ready my chief for his sleep."
The instant friendship gave Melanie a measure of hope, yet she knew that she must not expect anything from this woman who was being so attentive to her chief. She would most definitely not help Melanie escape!
She scooted back against the pelts again and observed the rest of the ritual being acted out before her eyes. She watched Blue Blossom spread some sort of oil over Gray Falcon's body, then wrap thick pelts around him. Next she spread a great heap of furs on the floor beside the fire and gently helped him down atop them.
After Blue Blossom spread another fur over him, she stepped out into the rain, but returned shortly, soaked, carrying a tray of food that she had protected from the rain by a covering of buckskin.
"Eat," Blue Blossom said to Melanie. She uncovered the food, displaying a mixture of boiled rabbit, baked fish, and fruit. "I must sleep beside my chief to keep him content."
Melanie nodded, stunned by Blue Blossom's sweet, generous nature. She plucked a piece of fish from the wooden tray and began eating it ravenously. Her gaze watched Blue Blossom's every movement, not at all surprised when she unashamedly undressed and dried her slim body off in front of her. Melanie was in awe of Blue Blossom, in how she so dutifully crept beneath the furs, to then mold her body against Gray Falcon's.
Melanie continued to watch and eat, then soon realized that both Chief Gray Falcon and Blue Blossom were sound asleep. Would this be the time to escape? Was the brave still guarding the wigwam, even though it was raining?
Shoving the food tray aside, Melanie crawled past the two sleeping figures. Rain splashed onto her face and into her eyes as she lifted the entrance flap. Wiping the rain from her eyes, she found that the brave was still standing there.
But she smiled smugly when she saw him look up into the sky, then jolt with alarm when another zigzag of lightning forked its way overhead, then straight down into the earth not far from the village. Surely he would give up his post soon and seek a drier, safer shelter! She would keep an eye on him.
But for now, the food was too tempting. Her stomach still gnawed with hunger. She crawled back to the food platter and began to eat an apple.
Unaware of being soaked to the bone or of the lightning popping and cracking all around him, Shane crept through the rain toward the Chippewa village. When he was only a few feet away he stopped and lunged behind a tree, having seen a brave standing guard outside Gray Falcon's wigwam.
Shane's jaw tightened and his eyes became two points of fire. The presence of a brave standing
guard outside the chief's wigwam was proof that something unusual had happened.
"She's there," Shane whispered, doubling a hand into a tight fist.
He hugged himself and hunched over in the rain. It was now falling so hard it was as though pellets were hitting his body. He looked at the brave again, knowing that he could be no less uncomfortable. If luck was with him, the brave would seek shelterat least for a while!
A smile lifted Shane's lips. He was right. The brave glanced nervously over his shoulder at the Chief's dwelling, and then in the direction of his own wigwam. In a matter of minutes he was fleeing toward it.
Shane stepped cautiously from behind the tree and made sure the brave went into his wigwam. When he did, Shane broke into a run until he was behind Gray Falcon's dwelling. Drawing his knife from its sheath, he inched his way around to the front, then leaned his ear to the entrance flap, listening. There was no sound except for Gray Falcon's snores.
Again Shane smiled. He recalled when Gray Falcon was a youth and had spent evenings in the forest with his friends, Shane among them. Gray Falcon had always kept everyone awake by his snoring. It seemed that he had not grown out of that habitas he had not grown out of his jealousy of Shane!
"If he so much as touched Melanie, I shall slit his throat!" Shane told himself, his fingers
clamped so hard around the handle of the knife his knuckles were white.