Tender Ecstasy

Book 5: Gray Eagle Series

by Janelle Taylor

Genres: Action & Adventure Romance; Historical Romance

Synopsis

Kiss of the night wind. . .Whispered kisses. . .Follow the wind. . . Each novel that Janelle Taylor writes is filled with heart-pounding passion and romantic adventure. Yet it is the compelling saga of the beautiful Alisha and her Indian lover Gray Eagle and their descendants which continues to enthrall her readers the most. . . Tender Ecstasy In a wagon train deep in Sioux territory rose Rebecca Kenny, the most ravishing woman Bright Arrow had ever seen. Her soft perfect curves were an intoxicating blend of innocence and seduction that drove him mad with desire. The hot-blooded brave had to have her--but wisdom demanded that he slay the enticing creature along with all the other white invaders. The bronze-skinned youth killed her companions--but fate commanded that he save Rebecca, capture her, torment her. . .and soar with her to the dizzying heights of blazing ecstasy!

Release date: October 24, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 470

Sample

In the spring of 1776, a beautiful and gentle English girl entered the rugged Dakota Territory along with a wagon train led by a white scout, Joe Kenny. The journey was long and arduous, and ended in tragedy for all but the young woman, Alisha Williams, and the daring scout.

Alisha Williams was caught and enslaved by a powerful warrior who tormented her with his kindness and his brutality. Finally, the indomitable and proud Sioux Indian, Gray Eagle, was able to confess his love to his white slave. Together, they resolved that their forbidden love would somehow overcome all the savagery of the frontier that tried to part them.

It took over a year of pain and sacrifice for the two young lovers to find happiness together, but the Great Spirit Wakantanka smiled upon the invincible Gray Eagle and his courageous white captive Alisha Williams. With the help of their friend, Joe Kenny, the two lovers were able to settle their differences. The two were able to marry according to Indian tradition and the white bride was accepted as a half-Indian princess, Shalee.

It was early June of 1777, and Joe was taking his leave of his friends. He grinned in satisfaction as he watched the two lovers embrace, smiling into each other’s eyes. He listened as they told him of their expected child, a child who would embody the best of two worlds. He chuckled mirthfully as he related his own good news to Shalee, “I think you know the girl I’m going to marry as soon as I make it back to St. Louis: Mary O’Hara. She’ll make a fine wife for a man like me. We’ve known each other for years. We talk through that sign language I taught her. Got her waiting for my return. If she wasn’t mute, she’d be singing about now.”

“No one deserves happiness more than you, dear Joe. You’ve saved my life many times and now you bring great joy and peace into our lives. I’ll never forget you. I hope you and Mary are just as fortunate and happy as we are.” She cast her virile husband a look of smoldering desire and deep love.

Gray Eagle returned his wife’s radiant smile as he spoke to his white friend, “I also wish you much happiness, Koda Joe. I owe you much for bringing us such joy and peace. In time our love would have come to view, but only after much more sadness and pain. We endured too much suffering when Shalee lived as Alisha. But the past is dead now. Come and bring your new wife to see our child when he is born, for he will be the best from both our kinds. The blood of the Indian and the white will join within our child. My wife has spoken the truth, for not all whites are bad,” he admitted with a rueful grin as he gazed at Princess Shalee and then at his friend Joe Kenny. “Truce would be easy if all whites were like you two.” They all laughed.

Joe’s heart sang with joy and relief as he watched the look of love and desire which passed between the English girl and the mighty Sioux warrior. The season for new beginnings had arrived. As Princess Shalee left the two men to return to their tepee, Joe faced his friend to bid him farewell. “This past year has been difficult for many people, Wanmdi Hota. At last the problems between you and Alisha—” he promptly corrected himself, “Princess Shalee have been settled. It’s funny how things work out sometimes. Who would have ever imagined Alisha Williams was a Blackfoot princess who’d been kidnapped as a baby from her people? I’m glad for both of you it worked out this way. She wasn’t ever meant to be a white slave, not even to the awesome Gray Eagle,” he jested, “I’ve never seen any two people love each other more than you two do,” he remarked with sincerity and warmth.

“What of you, Koda Joe? You will soon join a woman. Do you not feel these same fires of love?” Gray Eagle teased his companion, dismissing the reality of his wife’s white blood for all time. No one would ever learn the truth of how Alisha was accepted. Alisha was now viewed and accepted as Princess Shalee; and from this moon forward, she would cease to be Alisha Williams.

“It’s different between me and Mary,” Joe confessed. He explained his hasty and unexpected marriage to the powerful warrior beside him, “Mary O’Hara’s only seventeen and she can’t speak, but she’s a good and gentle creature, Wanmdi Hota. I’ve known her for years. She’s had a hard life in Jamie’s roadhouse; she’s like a white slave to that evil uncle of hers. She’s in deep trouble right now; she’s pregnant. The man she loved was killed before he could marry her. Watching you and Shalee, I’ve learned what I’ve been missing all these years alone. I think it’s about time I settle down.”

“You could accept the child of another man as your own?” the warrior asked in surprise. “What of her remaining love for this dead man?”

“In time, I’m hoping she’ll forget him. But I can’t allow her and her child to suffer for a foolish mistake.”

“Love is a powerful force,” Gray Eagle said. “But often it does not die as easily or quickly as a man. It will be harder for you to forget his ghost if you knew him.”

“Yep, I knew him all right,” he admitted sullenly. “You did, too,” he added before thinking.

“How is it possible I knew him?” Gray Eagle asked.

Joe hesitated and shifted apprehensively. “I don’t think we should discuss him.”

Gray Eagle eyed his friend pensively. “I do not understand. A koda can trust another koda with the truth and with his life.”

“The girl I’m marrying carries the child of Powchutu,” he reluctantly informed the stalwart man beside him. “Before you say anything, let me explain,” he hastily continued at the look of rage and hostility which stormed across the handsome features of Gray Eagle. Powchutu was the half-breed who had left Gray Eagle for dead in order to keep Alisha for himself. “Mary met Powchutu while he was pretending to be Alisha’s brother. When Alisha refused to marry him, he turned to Mary. Of all people, you know how cunning and persuasive he was. She’s young and innocent; she honestly loved him. From what I’ve learned, he was actually going to marry her. But he was killed before he learned about the baby. Mary has enough troubles being in the hands of that evil O’Hara and being unable to talk; she doesn’t need to add another problem with a fatherless child. As far as anyone will know, the child will be mine.”

“What about Shalee? Does she know of this unborn child of Powchutu’s?” the warrior demanded, envisioning that half-breed scout who had nearly destroyed his love.

“No. And I don’t think she ever should. He was like a brother to her, no matter the suffering he brought into her life with his obsessive love. Powchutu’s dead; the child will be mine,” Joe firmly declared.

“As you say, Koda Joe. This will remain a secret from my wife. I do not wish her to ever hear his name again. If he still lived, I would slay him myself!”

Many months passed. During February of 1778 in the domain of the Eagle, the Great Spirit delivered a son to the famed warrior Gray Eagle and Princess Shalee. As the illustrious warrior leaned over to kiss the moist brow of his beloved wife, he stated in a clear voice laced with love and pride, “We shall call him Bright Arrow, Grass Eyes. He will grow straight and fly true like his name; he will be the shining light which will lead the Oglala to greatness after I am no longer chief.”

During August of that same year, far to the East in the wilderness near the central section of the Missouri Territory, Joe Kenny and Mary O’Hara Kenny delighted in the birth of their daughter Rebecca. Mary lovingly observed her rugged husband as he held his daughter for the first time, laying to rest the bittersweet memories of the half-breed scout who had once controlled her life. For one last time, she grieved over her two dead loves and for what was never meant to be. This tiny Rebecca would reveal the love and loyalty she owed this gentle man whom she had wisely married last July. It was over now; she would never visit those two graves again.

Both children grew and learned under the guidance and influence of their parents and peoples. During the next seventeen years, many changes took place in the frontier and in the lives of those two children, children from different worlds. At fifteen, Rebecca Kenny’s world was torn assunder by the tragic deaths of her parents from cholera. In a near daze, she was taken to live with her great-uncle in St. Louis, helplessly following in the footsteps of her mother as a scorned free laborer to Jamie O’Hara. But far away to the west, the son of Gray Eagle and Shalee grew tall and strong, a vital and happy child. Chief Running Wolf died, making Gray Eagle chief of the mighty Oglala Sioux, placing Bright Arrow next in line for that powerful rank.

Over this span of years, a massive surge of white settlers and soldiers flooded the Indian territories. Atrocities and hatred increased; the racial war seemed endless. Great Britain, Alisha Williams’s motherland, had been defeated by the American Colonies and had granted them independence. This truce opened the path for numerous white settlers to spread westward. The hard journey created a new type of American settler: one who was as daring and defiant as the intrepid Sioux whom he boldly and recklessly confronted. A bitter clash resulted from the head-on confrontation between these two powerful forces. Tragic defeat was inevitable for one side or the other.

In the spring of 1796, Princess Shalee is thirty-seven years old. Even so, her beauty seems to increase with the passage of time. At forty-three, Gray Eagle is still an indomitable warrior. He is on constant guard against those evil white forces which could take his lands and slay those he loves. How he wishes the days were as peaceful as they were before this heavy influx of whites and Bluecoats. But he knows times will never be that way again. But neither can there be truce and safety. He longs for other children which Shalee has been unable to give him. Each time his only son Bright Arrow faces grave danger, he fears what life would be without him; and fear is a repulsive sign of weakness in a brave.

Bright Arrow has gradually and inevitably become a noted warrior whose courage almost matches that of his legendary father. At eighteen, he is very much a man: virile, handsome, powerful, and self-assured. At his father’s side, they fiercely struggle to withhold their lands from the rapidly advancing white man. Unaware of his mother’s real identity, he believes his beloved mother is the half-breed daughter of Chief Black Cloud. He has never questioned the fluent English which his father and mother have taught him, a cunning weapon to be used against his white enemies.

In May of this portentous year, another wagon train heads westward toward the Dakota Territory from St. Louis. The seventeen-yearold Rebecca Kenny is forced to accompany her cruel and deceitful great uncle on this fated journey to establish a new roadhouse and trading post at Pierre. The golden-skinned, auburn-haired, tawny-eyed beauty finds herself at the mercy of her cruel kinsman. Orphaned and penniless, she plots to escape his evil plans for her as their perilous trek into the wilderness continues.

As if foreseeing the deadly fate in store for both the white man and the Indian, an ominous song imperceptibly sings above the cries of pain and the shouts of hostility, a mesmeric chant which calls both friend and foe into a new and fatal drama. Spanning time and distance, the mystic melody begins its ominous notes, ever increasing its volume. Its sound reverberates across the savage frontier. Its echoes of hatred and revenge are heard throughout the forests and prairies, threatening this new generation of forbidden lovers and challenging the two hearts whose love has surpassed all difficulties these past eighteen years…

“Weren’t you warned not to stray so far from camp?” Captain Jake Selby’s voice cut into Rebecca’s thoughts. “If you can’t obey orders, then I’ll confine you to camp!”

She whirled to face him, anger and resentment sparkling vividly in her eyes. “Then order your men to stop gaping at me!” she protested in annoyance, the soldiers’ offensive behavior pushing her beyond control.

Amused chuckles greeted her ears and grated upon her already frayed nerves. “You can hardly blame them for admiring a beautiful woman,” he playfully chided her, his own eyes branded with undisguised lust as they surveyed her from auburn head to dainty foot. “It gets mighty lonesome out here,” he murmured in a suggestive tone, a lecherous grin tugging at the corners of his wide mouth.

She glared at him, then asserted contemptuously, “I was told that was the reason for bringing along those other two ladies,” a definite tone of scorn placed upon the last word.

Rebecca grew rosy just recalling the lewdness she had witnessed along this tormenting journey from St. Louis to Fort Dakota. She was not a fool; she knew this man—as well as many others—had made loathsome offers to her despicable great-uncle for her so-called “services.” She hated them all! She raged against the fate which had taken her parents’ lives, leaving her defenseless and penniless and heartbroken, placing her in the guileful hands of her insidious kinsman.

“Come now, Miss Kenny; you’re the only real lady hereabouts,” he rebuked her. A lazy halfgrin ensnared his full lips as he submitted his repugnant solution to her dilemma, “You know my generous offer of protection stands clear anytime you wish to claim it. You caught my eye the first time I saw you. You wouldn’t have any worries at all with me,” he promised, allowing his reprehensible gaze to rove over her tempting body and beautiful face once more.

Rebecca stared at him, barely containing her disdain. She studied him for a short time. Not that Jake wasn’t nice-looking or doubtlessly the best choice of the entire troop, but he was too brash and coarse. A streak of savage ruthlessness and deadly over-confidence exuded from him. He was detestable, dangerous.

Jake had previously made it indelicately clear that she could not long elude him and his amorous plans for her. Dread seized her innocent heart until she felt she could hardly breathe. Only her lucid eyes exhibited these emotions which the defiant, proud tilt of her dainty chin sought to conceal.

“If your dear uncle has his way, you’ll end up far worse than you would with me,” he taunted her.

Admittedly Jake was correct, but she puffed up indignantly and bravely refuted his tactless words, “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain Selby! Uncle Jamie would never treat me in such a crude and offensive manner. Besides, I find such nasty talk as repulsive as such vulgar conduct. You forget your rank and manners, sir,” she boldly rebuked him with the hope he would drop this line of conversation. When mocking laughter filled her ears, she tartly added, “If it’s female companionship you seek, I suggest you return to camp and visit the wagon of Lucy and Kate.”

His jovial laughter died instantly. He scanned her taut body and pink face. “You strike me as a smart girl, Rebecca; so don’t pretend you believe what you just said,” he acidly scolded her. “As for that mealy-mouthed uncle of yours, he would sell his own mother to my men if a good offer was made! When the time comes, which it will, I doubt you will find me as ‘repulsive’ then as you think you do now,” he smugly gloated, a knowing leer playing ominously upon his full lips and wickedly shining in his green eyes. “I desire much more from you than your charming body and eager responses in my bunk. I want my own private stock who has more to offer than a tasty body and a lusty appetite. I want a female who is just as valuable out of the bedroll as in it. I want a female who knows nothing of men, one who can be trained to pleasure me in the ways I choose,” he brazenly listed his demands to an open-mouthed, wide-eyed, stunned girl of seventeen.

“How dare you speak to me in this disgusting manner! Uncle Jamie will severely reprimand you for this unforgivable conduct!” she nearly shrieked at him as her voice returned and her senses cleared. What a horrid man he was!

Jake threw back his head and chortled in sinister amusement. Gluing his eyes on her alluring face, he informed the girl, “I dare because it will soon be too late to fulfill my wishes, my vixen. Jamie’s getting old and his greedy palm is getting mighty itchy to collect on the countless offers from my men. You know there’s only one man in this camp who can prevent his naughty plans for you,” he asserted. “If I were you, Rebecca, I would make my own choice known as quickly as possible. Private stock doesn’t include used goods,” he crudely threatened the frightened girl. “But either way, I will eventually sample and enjoy your…many charms,” he vowed, chilling her soul with his determination.

When he reached out to boldly caress her flawless complexion, she shrank from his offensive touch. She made the mistake of voicing her decision, “I would die first! No man will ever treat me like a Kate or Lucy.” Her eyes were hard with aversion.

“We’ll soon see, won’t we?” he sardonically debated, relishing his eventual triumph.

“You filthy animal!” she spat without thinking. “You’ll never touch me!”

At her stinging insult and adamant rejection, Jake’s face grew livid with anger. Seething fury was displayed by the tic which quivered along his stubbled jawline. His green eyes squinted to slits of virulent resolve. His tone was glacial when he finally spoke between clenched teeth, “I swear you’ll be mine, one way or another. If you hinder my private ownership, you’ll regret the day you were born a female. You’ve spurned me too long as it is. I know all about skittish, young virgins; I told you I would break you in gently,” he sneered, as if she were some wild filly to be bridled and mastered. “Your fate is as plain as these gold stripes on my shirt, so stop fooling yourself! If you give in right now, I’ll forget your past insults. If a man has a mind to, he can inflict a lot of pain upon a woman. If I’m not the first with you, I just might forget to be gentle and loving. As for Jamie O’Hara, I’ll kill that old coot if he tries to stop me from having you,” he growled.

She mutely stared at Jake in abhorrence and alarm, for she knew he meant every single word. She trembled and shook, even though this lovely May afternoon was sunny and warm. She was helplessly trapped like a fatigued animal in peril of survival. Her strength was no match for her predator’s. If only her father were here to protect and to comfort her…

Rebecca closed her eyes tightly against this monstrous evil which was invading her heart and life, thick lashes lying like tiny black feathers upon a snowbank. A tear eased down her cheek, for she honestly did not know which choice to make. How could she safely refuse Jake’s crude demands? By that same token, how could she ever relent to them?

Assuming her admission of defeat to him, Jake leaned forward to claim his beautiful prize. Terrified by his intimidating proximity, she protested in a tremulous tone, “I can’t…” Her heart thudded heavily in her chest like an exhausted rabbit’s as the talons of a mighty eagle closed over him.

He leaned back to gaze down into the face of exquisite beauty, soft innocence, and utter panic which had haunted his dreams for many weeks. He smiled and casually stated, “You can, and you will, because you have no other choice for honorable survival. It’s either me alone…or life in the wagon with Kate and Lucy. Since we both know you can’t endure a whore’s life, the choice is clearly me. In that light, why stall the inevitable?”

Honorable survival! Rebecca’s brain shrieked. Was survival worth such a degrading price? A harlot was a harlot whether it was for one man or twenty!

Jake’s mouth hastily came down rough and insistent upon her tender lips, parted for another brave refusal. His lips were bruising; they demanded a pleasing response which she could never grant. She instinctively struggled against his massive weight, his brute strength, and his dangerous and unruly lust, just as he vainly tried to enflame her with his fiery passion. She unknowingly kneed him in his taut groin as she attempted to stomp his booted foot to gain her freedom. He instantly doubled over in pain. A groan tore from his tight lips.

Seeing her chance for escape, she shoved him backwards and headed off into the dense cover of the woods. Blind fury overruled his agony; he was quickly upon his feet and hotly pursuing her. He rapidly diminished the scant distance between them. Keenly aware of what would take place when he caught up with her, she desperately ran as fast as she could. Her lungs burned and her side ached from her futile exertions. Her respiration came in quick, sharp pants. Her face was as white as a fluffy cloud upon an indigo horizon. Sheer terror flowed in her veins, for she knew her flight was as fruitless as it was vital.

When a strong hand snaked out to abruptly halt her flight with a painful grip upon her flowing auburn tresses, she was jerked backwards and imprisoned within his powerful arms. Jake yanked her around to face him, throwing her against the rough, sticky bark of a spruce tree. He pinned her to it with his robust frame, glaring down into her ashen face with its crimson cheeks. Her chest heaved; she shuddered in unmasked terror.

“That was a dumb mistake, Rebecca. You shouldn’t have done that,” he icily stated.

“Please, Captain Selby. Don’t do this wicked thing. I can’t! Please,” she begged and reasoned to no avail.

“You owe me, woman! And I’ve had enough of your silly refusals! I’m taking you here and now!” he thundered at the quivering girl.

“My uncle will kill you for this!” she screamed at him. “You’re all a bunch of savage animals! I hate you! I’ll never let you touch me!” she cried out, inwardly knowing there was no way to prevent his inevitable assault.

“Before this hour’s past, you’ll be the sole property of Captain Jake Selby. Accept it, Rebecca; you’re mine,” he vowed.

Before Jake could carry out his threat, a look of shock and pain stamped his obdurate features as he lurched forward against her. A loud exhalation of air rushed over her curly head and she realized she’d heard a curious thud. He did not cry out or even speak. He simply gaped at her in horror, then collapsed to the ground, revealing the reason for his strange actions and anguished look: a tomahawk was buried between his shoulder blades near his evil heart and a stalwart Indian warrior was now facing her!

Too stunned to react, she merely stared at the incredibly masculine vision before her watchful eyes. Uncontrollably her eyes roamed his towering, virile frame; his shiny black eyes that revealed nothing but her mirrored image; his bronzed, handsome face that had a small, solid yellow circle painted upon each cheek and on his forehead; and the silver arrow which was suspended from a leather thong around his neck. Without even trying, he evoked tremendous strength, dauntless courage, and total masculinity. Never had she viewed such a perfect and compelling specimen of manhood and mettle. She marvelled at his arresting visage of undeniable prowess. It seemed he was a potent magnet, and even her iron will could not resist him.

Gradually returning to her senses, Rebecca glanced at the dead man at her feet, then settled her wide eyes upon the intrepid brave. He had neither moved nor spoken, and confusion flooded her murky eyes. It seemed absurd to thank this Indian for his timely intervention; assuredly his motive was neither chivalrous nor amicable. Nor did she know what to do. She was at his mercy; yet, he made no attempt to harm her. To flee was impossible, so she remained where she was. She glanced in the direction toward camp, but did not call out for help. She would later contemplate and regret her inaction…And the Indian wondered why the girl he had been furtively watching for two days didn’t utter a sound.

Assailed by this perilous situation and perplexed by the brave’s distracting effect upon her, she attempted to conceal her apprehension and inexplicable enchantment by kneeling down to roll Jake’s limp body away from her feet and legs. If the opportunity to escape presented itself, she wanted to be ready to flee. A rip in her paisley dress ensnared itself upon one of the shiny brass buttons on Jake’s navy blue shirt. Unnerved, she anxiously yanked upon her full skirt to free herself, not wanting to touch Jake’s bloody body again. The stubborn fabric refused to yield, trapping her there upon her shaky knees.

As she reached out a quivering hand to untangle her torn dress, a bronze one pushed hers away to perform the task. Then the brave nonchalantly removed the crimson-stained tomahawk with its decorative feathers wavering in the breeze from the back of the man who had been about to brutally ravish her. She fearfully waited for the bloody weapon to also end her life; it did not. Instead, the deadly weapon was indifferently wiped clean upon its victim’s shirt and returned to its owner’s sheath. They both stood up.

Her puzzled gaze came up to study this copper-skinned creature with bold onyx eyes, compelling features, and a sleek midnight mane. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. His oblique gaze drilled into hers, mystifying Rebecca. Unknown emotions washed over her. She froze in curiosity and indecision. Her amber eyes scanned his striking face and upper torso once more. For some reason, she did not feel frightened or endangered.

Who was this god-like man, and why was he here? Why had he killed Captain Selby, then obviously spared her life? Why was he captivating her wayward senses in this manner? What was the magical light which glowed within his dark gaze? What should she do or say? her spinning mind asked.

Her answers came almost instantly. Shrieks of surprise, screams of pain, terrified shouts of alarm, and ominous gunfire reached them. Her head jerked toward the direction to camp. Her face went ashen; her brown eyes grew wide and luminous. She visibly shuddered. No one needed to explain what was happening over there.

The wintry tone of another Indian brave asserted his dauntless claim on the vulnerable white girl to the appealing warrior who was before her, “Ska winyan de mitawa!”

Both Rebecca and Bright Arrow hastily turned to confront this new hazard. There was insufficient time to make any assessments about this Indian’s intentions or about her precarious position between them. The second brave surged forward and seized her wrist in a cruel grip, snatching her to him and painfully crushing her against his sweaty body which was as immovable and as sturdy as a massive oak tree.

Thoughts of her own survival and safety blotted out the pandemonium from camp. A cry of intermingled pain and terror was torn from her dry lips at the new brave’s savage treatment. A chilling aura of enmity and aggression exuded from him. In panic, her free arm reached out to the first brave and her entreating expression pleaded for his assistance, and she tremulously cried out, “Help me!” She didn’t know why she begged him to come to her aid, unless she unconsciously sensed a greater strength in him and an irresistible attraction to him.

Her cries and pleas were unnecessary, for Bright Arrow had previously determined to have Rebecca for himself. There was a deadly, deceptive calm to his puissant mien when he faced his antagonist, drawing himself up to his towering height of well over six feet, and assuming an arrogant stance of vivid challenge and portentous warning. He forcefully vowed, “Hiya! Akicita Itancan!” He lightly pounded upon his firm chest as he declared that he was the chosen band leader for this raid, denying Standing Bear’s brash claim upon Rebecca. “Ska wincinyanna de mitawa,” he confidently announced his prior claim upon the startled girl. Bright Arrow held out his hand to the girl, mutely beckoning her to come to his side.

She instantly reached out to accept his terse command, but was brutally thrown to the hard ground behind the opposing warrior. Bright Arrow gingerly withheld a sudden furious outburst in defense of her. The two braves glowered at each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move in this duel of wills. In rising alarm, she watched. . .