Passion's Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

folds and her nose nothing more than a puckered button in the center. Even so, he could see the twinkle of life in the nearly concealed orbs and thought of Akachee, the old Choctaw woman for whom he'd hunted during his stay in her village.
    He worked his tightened lips into a half grin. Her black gaze darted to his mouth, and she tilted her head sideways much like a mutt looking at a curiosity. The wrinkled face, if it were possible, wrinkled even more in a scowl of disapproval.
    James let the smile slip away and scowled right back. Of course, the effect was somewhat less dramatic considering he was curled in the dirt like a grub plucked from its hole, but it seemed to satisfy her. In his pain and lapse into sentimental remembrance, he had forgotten he was now in a Cherokee camp where no sign of weakness in a visitor could be respected.
    With a grunt the old woman sat about to pull his wrist from between his knees as she tugged on his loincloth.
    James fought with her gnarled hands. "No! No. I'm fine. I don't need your help," he hastened to explain in Cherokee.
    The old lady sat back on her haunches and looked at him. He could swear he saw mischief in the half-hidden eyes.
    "I don't need help. I'll be fine. You just stay right there." He rolled up to his knees and rose a bit clumsily to his feet. Straightening as far as he could he held his arms out to his sides to show her he was fit. "I'm fine. See?"
    With a mumbled curse he turned and hobbled slowly in the opposite direction. The last thing he needed was the tribe's old witch woman plastering his testicles in leaves and mud!
     

Chapter Four
     
    James woke to the sounds of ragged, nasal snoring. Outside, the darkness still hung over the village like a black drape. He shifted under his furs, rolled up on his side, and snuggled deeper into the warm pile. However, the dawning of a new day would not be delayed.
    Soon the stillness of the early pre-dawn came to life. Villagers quietly rumbled about as they filed from their lodges on their way to the narrow stream that meandered through the village. The time for the water ceremony to greet the sun rapidly approached.
    He rose and looked at Thomas’ sleeping form. His body lay half in, half out of their lodge. How different Thomas was from George. It was hard to believe the two were actually partners. Hell! It was hard to believe he was Thomas’ partner.
    However, he congratulated himself, buying into the post by paying off the two men's debts had been a stroke of genius on his part. Not only was he provided with a believable cover, but also a trader taking up residence with the Indians was a fairly common practice.
    James glanced around the small one-room lodge. He didn't actually miss having a butler, though one would come in handy right about now. He couldn't suppress a grin at the thought of the ever so proper Willis standing at the foot of his bed, breech cloth in hand.
    Pushing strong fingers through his tangled hair he gave a vigorous scratch to his scalp and then set about to find the blasted thing. As ridiculous as the thought might be for Willis to be here helping him to dress, at least Willis never lost a single piece of his clothing, no matter how small.
    Finally he spotted the strip of rawhide peeking out from under one of Thomas’ packs. James snatched up the breechcloth and his knife and hastily slipped them both on. With one last adjustment to the meager groin covering and a few swipes with his fingers through his hair to remove the tangles he stepped over Thomas’ body.
    Once outside he breathed deeply of the fresh, crisp mountain air. James had traveled over most of the world but no place he knew made him feel the way this country did.
    He took another deep breath and stretched his long body. The village was definitely on the move now. He needed to hurry if he was going to greet the sun. During his earlier time with Dancing Cloud in England, James learned the ritual greeting of the sun and other practices.