Free White Dawn by Susan Edwards Page B

aware of the weapons slung across his shoulders and the animal-skin pouches of personal items hanging from a throng around his waist.
    She froze. He never took those with him unless they were moving on. “Where are you going?” Panic edged her voice.
    His nostrils flared with emotion; then she was caught close by strong, muscular arms. Emily threw her arms around his neck, clinging fiercely, drinking in his rich scent, a combination of sweat and the woodsy outdoors. It was all right. He wasn’t leaving.
    He murmured something in her ear. She heard the beat of his heart, and the sharp intake of air as he reached up and pried her hands from his neck, forcing them back to her side. She stared at him, trying to read his expression in the dark of the night.
    His arms lifted, his fingers brushing up her bare arms, feathering over her collarbone, and up to frame her small oval face.
    “Kopegla sni yo.” Leaning down, he gently kissed her.
    Emily closed her eyes, comforted by his kiss yet troubled by it. His lips were firm and warm, yet they trembled. When he gently led her back to the fallen log, she sat, staring up at him, catching the glimmer of moisture in his eyes.
    He turned and picked up a water pouch made from the stomach lining of a buffalo, and a bulging parfleche filled with meat, berries and greens. He held them out to her.
    Emily took the precious pouches—she’d refilled them just yesterday—and laid them in her lap, wondering why he was preparing to leave so early this day. Then he held out a wooden object that had been sitting among the food pouches. She’d never seen it before. Reaching for it, Emily twisted sideways on the decaying log to find beams of moonlight to illuminate his offering.
    A thick piece of bark formed the top of a crudely carved box. Lifting it, she peered inside. Soft brown rabbit fur lined the interior. Curled on the silky fur lay a necklace. Emily lifted it out and held it up. She gasped at the long bear claw strung on a leather thong. It was one he’d worn around his neck, one she hadn’t even noticed was gone. Planning to take her mother’s locket that she wore around her neck on another length of leather and combine the two, she turned to thank him.
    Her cry of pleasure lodged in her throat. She scanned the area but he was nowhere in sight.
    Looking at the gifts he’d given her, the necklace dangling from the tips of her fingers, the wooden box resting on her palm, she knew if she stood and ran after him, she wouldn’t find him.
    He’d said goodbye.
    Tears slid from her eyes, ran down her cheeks and dripped down onto her bare breasts. Her head moved slowly from side to side as she refused to believe her protector, friend and lover had disappeared forever behind nature’s wall of greenery.
    High overhead, the sky turned gray, the silence of the night broken by birds chirping and fluttering sleepily as they woke to greet the coming light of a new day. Emily heard none of it. She sat perfectly still, too numbed to move. This couldn’t be happening!
    Hadn’t she suffered already? Hadn’t losing her family in that gruesome massacre been enough?
    A rustling from the bushes behind Emily caused her to jump up from the log. Her precious water pouch fell to the ground, bursting to create a puddle at her feet. Her heart raced. Had he returned? She clutched her warrior’s gift to her chest. Rounding the large green bush, she scanned the area, praying that he’d changed his mind and had come back to get her.
    Instead, a doe, startled by her sudden appearance, flicked its white tail and bounded into the concealing darkness of the woods. Emily’s shoulders slumped in despair. Unsure of what to do or where to go, she staggered back to the bed she’d shared with her warrior and fell to her knees, feeling dead to pain.
    She also felt vulnerable sitting there—naked and alone. She grabbed her shift and yanked it over her head, heedless of the sound of more ripping cloth. Garbed, she sat