"Find my daughter," he'd told him and when you do I'll reward you with more than you've ever had." He's stopped talking and then turned back. "More than you'd ever need."
That had been so attractive to him. He'd been promised to a little Indian woman named Pari. They had been waiting for years to marry. He'd tried his best to accomplish almost the impossible. He sighed and suddenly there Polly was.
Pari didn't seem to be so important anymore. She was provided for. The chief made sure of that. But...he felt his pants start to rise as Polly's breathing slowed down and sleep claimed her...
She was all he wanted in his life...Polly; the tiny little girl who everyone thought was white...
The night passed slowly. He found himself unable to sleep as he figured would happen. He found himself fighting not to get a hard on and once it happened he found himself trying to get it to go down. Her body was warm now and he found himself admiring her longish brownish hair. It wasn't the hair of an Indian median. But, it was the hair of Polly. He sighed the woman he'd fallen in love with without even trying.
"Finally," he sighed, morning approached. He softly unwrapped himself from Polly and stood up. His body ached. His penis hurt from growing hard and then soft. He'd never experienced so much torture in his life. But, he looked down at her. She was safe. That was all that was important.
He moved off into the woods relieved from the warmth of her body.
Polly awoke slowly. She'd felt so warm and safe all night long wrapped up in Joe's arms. She'd never felt safe with John. She'd felt, if anything, like something John owned but did not treasure. He liked his bragging rights.
She tossed the covers away from her body and felt the coolness of morning just as the sun was rising in the sky. She'd never been up that early before. The colors in the sky were amazing. They were so beautiful it was like they were singing. She could almost hear them. She kept looking at them and didn't notice when Joe walked back into the camp with his arms loaded with firewood.
He said nothing. Just quietly piled the wood up near the burning fire and watched her. Her little waist, her long brown hair blowing in the breeze, the way her eyes reflected the colors across the sky. He felt as if he'd gone to the maker and this was his gift for following and doing all the right things.
He cleared his throat. "We should have breakfast and be on our way," he found himself saying to really the wind as he didn't say it loud enough for her to hear.
