Free White Dawn by Susan Edwards

remember his father’s actions, and they would doubt him.
    At first he’d thought he could spend the warm months with her, then leave. He’d never expected it to be so painful to do so. He’d never expected to fall in love with her—and it didn’t help to see the love in her eyes, taste it in her kisses, or hear it in her voice. He’d never thought he’d yearn to say those words in return. But he couldn’t. Not even in Lakota could he say the words, for that would only make it so much harder to let her go.
    In her arms alone could he show her the love he felt—but it was a love destined to tear them apart when he finally gathered the strength to leave.
     
    Over the past two weeks, Emily sensed a difference in her warrior. They’d traveled long and fast for a while, and then they’d stopped. Often during the past several days he left her hidden, returning each evening to take her in his arms and love her long into the night, as if he couldn’t get his fill of her.
    Not that she minded. She grinned, quickening her steps to keep up with him. Today he’d decided they should continue on.
    Her gaze lingered on his bare back. She loved to look at him, see the play of muscles ripple beneath his skin. Her eyes skimmed downward. The flap of his breechclout swished from side to side, revealing glimpses of flesh as bronzed as the rest of him. He was her Apollo, bronze and beautiful. She smiled and stared at her own arms. Her skin had turned a rich shade of honey after hours spent in the warmth of the sun. She was not as deeply tanned as he, still, she no longer looked white.
    Her clothing felt heavy on her. At first it had seemed strange to go without. Aside from taking baths, she’d never gone naked. And never outside, in the open. She smiled. Her warrior had convinced her that it was silly to put on clothing each day when he was just as likely to take it off again; so whenever they were camped, she wore only her shift—or if he had his way, nothing at all. But when they traveled, in case they came upon anyone else, she endured the heavy weight of her mother’s old dress which she’d salvaged. She had shortened the skirt, enjoying the brush of tall grass against her calves; and the warm air on her bare arms; and the heat had convinced her to tear the sleeves from the shift.
    Happy with her life, she laughed. Her warrior turned to see what she found amusing. Reaching forward, Emily stroked her fingers down his back, slid their tips beneath the hide covering his buttocks. His eyes darkened and roamed down her body, making her breasts ache for his touch. With a glint in his eyes, he trailed his finger down across one budded breast, then across and over the other.
    She groaned. This time it was his turn to laugh. Then, to her annoyance, he turned and continued on. Again, she wondered about his pace. Perhaps they were returning to his tribe. Beneath her feet the grass crunched, and it surrounded her, along with leaves from trees that had lost their glossy texture. Everything looked dry. Summer would soon give way to fall and winter. Surely he didn’t roam on his own during the winter? He must be returning to his tribe. Thinking of that brought a new worry to her.
    What would his people be like? Would they accept her? She had no idea.
    Dusk was nearly upon them before he stopped and motioned for her to hide. She settled back while he went ahead to scout. They’d gone through this many times, especially when he spotted other Indians in the area. He’d taught her to sit absolutely still, to walk without leaving tracks, and to move through the bushes without breaking leaves or branches.
    When he returned and motioned to her, she followed him deep into the lengthening shadows. Without warning, they burst out of the woods into a small, secluded clearing.
    There was just enough light to reveal a fallen tree trunk, tall brown grass and shrubs, all enclosed by a wall of thick tree trunks. Beneath Emily’s feet, tiny flowers