Chapter Eleven: Mine
The scent of cooking herbs and meat had Deniah’s stomach rumbling as consciousness cleared her mind and roused her. Slowly she opened her eyes and pushed her sore body up to sit, blushing as she wiped at the drool covering her cheek. She glanced around the cave, searching for Gray Skies but realized she was alone. A pot of delicious smelling stew simmered over a small fire and Deniah moved closer to it and breathed in the scent while taking in the warmth of the flames.
She saw two wool blankets lying on the floor of the cave and grabbed one. She wrapped it gingerly around her shoulders while wincing at the pain in her bruised and battered body. Where was Gray Skies?
Deniah looked into the stew and thought about her family. They were dead now. She tried to force tears to come for her brother but they would not. He had turned into nothing but a monster during the last weeks of his life and Deniah would not mourn his loss. She did however shed tears over her father.
He had been a good man and a good father until her mother had died and that had changed him. Losing his wife had turned Jonathon into a shell of the man he had been and he had never been able to fully come back. He had never found the bravery or strength to stand up to his bully of a son and he had broken Deniah’s heart by attempting to take her away from her home and force her into a loveless marriage.
Deniah sighed as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. There would be no trip to New York and no forced marriage for her now… Gray Skies had saved her.
Her Indian. Her ghost. Her man. A tremble coursed through her body at that thought and she marveled at the heat that pulsed through her, warming her chilled skin. She knew she was premature in calling him hers when they had never spoken of anything other than friendship between them. They had shared that kiss—that amazing earth spinning kiss but did that mean things had changed between them? Did Gray Skies want things to be changed between them?
Deniah rose to her feet, taking her time to slowly allow her body to hold its own weight. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep but one thing was certain; she needed to answer natures call and she needed to so quite quickly.
Using the wall of the cave for support, Deniah made her way to the entrance, her bare feet moving silently across the rocks, mud and moss. “Gray?” she called as she peered out at the thick forest surrounding her. Deniah bounced on her toes for a moment and then decided she could not wait any longer.
She slipped around the side of the cave and headed toward a large bush nestled in some pines. It took some doing with her beaten and battered muscles but Deniah managed to relieve herself without soiling her dress or undergarments.
She readjusted her clothes but then was too fatigued to attempt to make it back to the cave. Bumps covered her flesh and she began to feel even more chilled. Deniah rubbed her arms, hoping to warm them as her chest began to burn. A cough burst from her mouth and the pain in her lungs intensified.
Her legs felt as if they were little more than twigs and the smallest breeze would topple her over. She laid her hand against her brow and winced. She was hot.
Two strong arms encircled her waist and Deniah knew instantly that it was Gray Skies as she leaned back against his chest. She trembled at the feel of his breath on her neck but the trembling was hidden well due to the way her fevered body was shaking. She tried to open her mouth to speak but her teeth chattered together and she snapped her mouth closed.
YOU ARE READING
Gray Skies
Fiction HistoriqueNorth Carolina 1851 Deep in the mountains of North Carolina lives a branch of the Cherokee nation that no white man had been able to remove. They could come and go like the wind. They were rumored to be ghosts and called the 'Ghost Tribe' by those t...