Free White Eagle's Touch by Karen Kay

uncle.”
    “Yes,” she said.
    “And your voyage here, it was pleasant?”
    “Yes,” she said, “it was pleasing enough, I imagine.”
    He nodded. “And the man you are to marry?”
    “Yes?”
    A long pause. “He is ready to make another journey?”
    She didn’t answer, stating instead, “You speak English very well, Mr. White Eagle.” Her eyes glimmered with an air of mockery. “How have you learned it?”
    He chose not to reply, and merely stared at her with his steady, unflinching gaze.
    She fidgeted.
    And he sat there, doing and saying nothing. At length, he stated, “Your uncle wishes you to know that he is sorry that he cannot be here to meet you.”
    “Yes,” she said, glancing once again around the lodge. “So I have been told.”
    “He wishes to see and speak to this man you have chosen.”
    “Yes,” she replied. “I know.”
    “I am to bring this man to him.”
    Without looking at the Indian, she said, “You tell me things I already know.
    Is there anything further you have to say to me that I am, as yet, unaware of?”
    When she glanced back at him, there was an easy grin upon his face.
    “What do you do?” she asked. “Why do you look at me like that? Do you not understand how uncomfortable it makes me feel?”
    He didn’t answer.
    She continued. “My fiancé may not elect to make the journey with you. He may decide to travel to this Fort McKenzie with Prince Maximilian, another European who is here to make observations about this land, though I can hardly see what people find so fascinating about this place.”
    This comment was met with more silence, unbroken by even so much as a harsh breath.
    “Well,” she said, after a while, and made a movement to sit up, “if you have nothing further to say to me, I may as well go. I will let you know later of my fiancé’s decision.”
    Still he gave her no response.
    She glanced toward Rebecca, and with a motion of her head, she and her maid arose at the same time, both brushing down their dresses as they came up onto their feet. Rebecca moved to the entrance and pulled back the flap.
    The maid had no more than stepped outside, with Katrina making ready to do the same when the Indian commented, “Your uncle wishes you to know that it was not his intention to leave you alone in the East for so long.”
    Katrina stopped.
    She turned back toward the Indian.
    She stared, before replying. “You expect me to believe that?”
    The Indian didn’t answer.
    “If that is true, then answer me this, why didn’t my uncle ever come to visit me?”
    The man remained silent.
    She set her features. “You see. I don’t believe him. I don’t believe you. If my uncle had truly been concerned about me, he would have come to me a long time ago, if only to visit.”
    The Indian rose up onto his feet and, pacing toward her slowly, he said, “I do not know why he did not come to you. I can only tell you that he is happy that Shines Like Moonlight has finally arrived home.”
    “Shines Like Moonlight…? Home?” She almost spat the words. “My home is in New York City, Indian. And I don’t know whom you think you are addressing.”
    White Eagle did nothing more than gaze down into her eyes, she glaring back up at him. His lips parted slightly, before he whispered, “Do you truly not know who is this person, Shines Like Moonlight?”
    He reached a forefinger out to run over her cheek as he said the words, and Katrina thought she might suddenly faint.
    What was this?
    Not only had this man—this Indian—dared to touch her, sensation, such as no other she had ever imagined existed, engulfed her, rushing through her body like a wind storm gone mad. She trembled, and worse, she could not bring her body under control.
    How dare he!
    Thankfully she hadn’t lost her ability to speak. Mustering up all the disdain she could, she said, “Is this how my uncle wishes to greet me? With his emissary molesting me?”
    The Indian raised an eyebrow. He said, “Haiya,