Bittersweet Ecstasy Read Online Free PDF

that voice from the distant past. Her wide gaze perused the man standing before her, smiling, and looking more like her husband than he had years ago. His thick hair was more gray than black and it loosely fell just below his broad shoulders. His Indian heritage was abundantly visible in his coloring, bone structure, and features. His dark brown gaze seemed to entreat, please, tell me it was not a mistake to come here.
    Shalee opened her mouth to speak, but no words came forth. Her heart began to thud forcefully and rapidly. It was impossible; he was dead… “Powchutu?” she whispered, then swooned as he nodded.

Chapter Two
    Powchutu bounded forward and caught Shalee before she collapsed to the ground. He carried her to the shade of a tree and gently placed her on the grass. Comprehending her reaction to his abrupt return from the grave, he gazed into her ashen face and prayed his decision had been a wise one. Perhaps his return was dangerous and selfish, but he was seventy-one and had to see her one last time; he had to beg her forgiveness for his harmful intrusion on her life. Great Spirit, help me make amends, for I almost destroyed her, and damned myself. Open her heart and mind to me. Do not allow others to interrupt us before I have told her all things.
    Shalee stirred as Powchutu tenderly stroked her cheek. Her green eyes fluttered, then opened to stare disbelievingly at him. He smiled and coaxed, “Don’t be afraid, Alisha. I’m very much alive. I’m getting old and I had to see you before the Great Spirit calls my name. I have a lot to say if there’s any hope of earning your forgiveness.”
    Shalee pushed herself to a sitting position and continued to gape at the man on his knees before her. As with the first time they had met, she stared at him asif she were seeing a mild reflection of her husband Gray Eagle. Except for his grayer hair and white man’s clothes, today he favored his half brother more than he had over forty years ago. “Mary told me Jeffery murdered you and Celeste, and made your deaths appear an accident. I saw you buried in St. Louis, and I grieved over your loss as if you had truly been my brother. You never sent word or visited me all these years. I do not understand.”
    Powchutu was also recalling their first meeting at Fort Pierre. He had believed she had been sent to him to fill the loneliness and hunger in his heart; he had believed with all his being that she had been meant to be a part of his Life-circle and without her his existence would not be complete. A fierce and greedy flame of love and desire had ignited in his heart, mind, and body that day when he had first looked upon her, scarred and terrified of the man who was now her husband. He had seen her and accepted her as the girl to fulfill his dreams, a girl worth fighting the entire world to possess. He had challenged everyone and everything to win her, and he had lost. In trying to make his dream come true, he had blinded himself to all else, even to her sufferings and especially to her love for another man. She had given him so much of herself, but he had demanded her soul. He asked himself if she could ever forgive all the wrongs he had done her.
    He wondered how Mary O’Hara, a mute girl, had uncovered the truth of his “murder” and “told” Alisha of it. All these years he had thought she had accepted the news that he had died accidentally. She must have suffered greatly from undeserved remorse. “Where do I begin, Alisha? I brought nothing but anguish and peril into your life. I am not worthy to stand in your shadow or to hear your voice, but I could not die with such black stains upon my soul.”
    “Begin with how you survived and why you kept it a secret,” she commanded softly, her gaze unable to leave his. “All these years I suffered, believing I was responsible for your death. Why did you do this to me?”
    Powchutu inhaled deeply and sat beside her. The journey from New Orleans had been arduous for a