Comanche Woman (19 page)

“What bounty you gave to the villagers, they brought to me,” he explained, chagrined by the admission. “I did not plan to even things between us through She Touches First. But when the chance came to thwart your marriage, I took it. I had to lie cleverly to keep my sister from questioning you. And of course I lied to you as well.”

“She loved me then . . . and now?” Many Horses asked.

“Yes.”

Many Horses turned his head away so He Decides It could not see the tears that hovered in his eyes. It was hard to die knowing he had been cheated of happiness. It became harder to talk as his strength ebbed, but he could not stay silent. “I loved She Touches First . . . with all my heart. To watch her these past three years . . . and not to have her . . . has been hard for me. I wish you had not . . . told me the truth.”

“I am glad he has revealed the truth,” She Touches First said.

He Decides It whirled to confront his furious sister. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear the cruel trick you played on us. How could you lie to your friend? How could you lie to your own sister?”

“I am not proud of it,” He Decides It retorted.

“But you waited too late—”

He Decides It cut off his sister’s lament with a barking, “Pah! He is not dead yet. Did you bring the cactus?”

She Touches First opened a piece of rawhide to reveal the seven pads of cactus. At almost the same moment, Long Quiet returned to the tipi. “Here is the buffalo tail you requested.”

“Good,” He Decides It said. “Now leave me, both of you. I have work to do.”

When He Decides It was alone with Many Horses, he put the buffalo tail in his mouth and blew on the wound to stop the bleeding. After burning the spines off the prickly pear cactus, he slit it and pressed the open surfaces of the cactus against the flesh all along the wound. Then he bound the whole of it snugly with rawhide.

“Now the healing is in the hands of the Great Spirit,” he announced.

“I do not plan . . . to die,” Many Horses gritted out. “And when I am whole . . . I will offer ponies for your sister.”

The
puhakut
shrugged.

“Send Long Quiet to me,” Many Horses said. “And tell She Touches First that . . . I want to speak . . . with her.”

“As you wish.” The
puhakut
rose to leave, but was stopped by Many Horses’ pain-laced voice.

“And,
puhakut
. . .”

“Yes?”

“I do not forgive you . . . for this.”

He Decides It met Many Horses’ fierce glare. “I did not ask your forgiveness.” He turned and left.

Long Quiet entered the tipi and knelt beside the wounded man. Sensing his presence, Many Horses smiled, although his eyes remained closed. “
Haints?
”

“I am here,” Long Quiet said.

“Do you think Shadow . . . would make a good wife?”

Long Quiet’s eyes narrowed as he speculated on why Many Horses had asked such a question. Tentatively, he responded, “She was not raised in the Comanche ways.”

Many Horses chuckled. “I could not expect . . . very many ponies for such a woman . . . could I?”

Long Quiet’s heart lodged in his throat and made it difficult for him to speak. “What?”

“So I will . . . give her to you.”

“What!”

Many Horses took a shallow breath and huffed it out again. “Am I mistaken? You do not wish . . . to have her?”

“She will not have me. She does not wish to leave Little Deer,” Long Quiet admitted.

“You would not take her . . . despite her wishes?”

“No.”

Many Horses’ brow furrowed in thought. “Then I will have to find another . . . to take her.”

“You will not keep your most prized possession?”

Many Horses’ voice was low but firm. “I should have obeyed . . . the
puhakut
’s decree. I will return Shadow’s medicine . . . and take She Touches First as
paraibo
. Shadow cannot stay . . . in my tipi.”

“I will take her,” Long Quiet said.

“Good.”

“For a few weeks I must go where she cannot follow. Will you keep her safe here for me?”

“Yes. But you must claim her . . . as your wife . . . before all in the village . . . and take her to your pallet.”

“It shall be done. Now, as a brother, I have a favor to ask.”

“Name it . . . and it is yours.”

“I have no ponies of my own within this village to offer for Shadow.”

“I have asked no bride price,” Many Horses said.

“I would not shame Shadow by taking her without a proper gift. And I want all in the village to know the worth I place upon my wife. Thus will they fear my wrath should they seek to harm her.”

Many Horses nodded in agreement. “That is wise.”

“So I need your herd of ponies.”

“All of them?”

Long Quiet smiled. “All of them. Except your favorite war pony, of course.”

Many Horses returned the smile. “Of course. It shall be as you say.”

“I will deliver them to her tipi this very afternoon.”

Long Quiet had barely left the tipi when She Touches First entered. She hesitated near the opening. She had begged He Decides It to tell her whether Many Horses was going to die. Her brother had told her that all men must die sometime and, when she had looked stricken, he had given the only reassurance he could: Many Horses would live yet awhile, and if the poison sickness did not kill him, for many years to come.

She Touches First’s nerves were strung as tightly as a fox skin on a willow hoop. Her whole future depended on what Many Horses chose to do with the truth he’d learned from He Decides It.

“Come. Sit beside me,” Many Horses said.

She Touches First contained her emotions with difficulty. She could hear the pain in his voice and she shared his agony. Yet she had spent too long denying her love for Many Horses to feel comfortable expressing it now, even though she feared they would have only a short time left in which to share their closeness.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“As the earth craves water.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you love me?”

“As the grass loves the sun.” They still had not touched one another, nor did either make the attempt. Many Horses sighed. It was a sound of disgust, of disbelief, of frustration. “How could we . . . have believed his lies?”

“He was my brother. He was your friend. Why should we not have believed him?”

“Surely the love we felt . . .”

“Our love made us vulnerable to his lies. We cannot have back the years that were taken from us.”

His voice was weak, and she could barely hear him as he said, “But can we share . . . the years to come. Will you share my tipi as
paraibo?
Will you let me love you . . . until the day the sun rises no more . . . on my face?”

She Touches First blinked at the tears that gathered in her eyes. He had offered her a future she had only dreamed could be hers at a time when she had no certain hope it would last more than a few hours. Surely the Great Spirit would not let him die now, not now, when he had yet to plant the seeds that would become a new generation of Comanche warriors.

“From now on,” she said, “our lives will be as one. We will share the time the Great Spirit gives us . . . together.”

She Touches First reached out a hand to touch Many Horses’ face. He was unconscious. It was likely he had not even heard her answer. She forced herself to remain calm. Many Horses would not die. The strength of their love would give him the will to live. She did not doubt it. Her fingertips traced the line of his mouth before she lowered her lips to taste his.

“I will give you many sons to take into battle with you,” she whispered. Then, because she was afraid to face the years ahead without him, she added, “Please, please do not die.”

Chapter 10

B
AY HEARD THE THUNDERING OF A THOUSAND HOOVES
and searched for Little Deer to rescue her from the stampede until she realized the child was safe, playing near the stream with the other children. She raced from the tipi in time to see Long Quiet circling two hundred and fifty ponies around her tipi. She knew what such a thing would have meant to a young Comanche woman, but she hardly dared to imagine it could have that meaning to her, especially when she saw the grim look on Long Quiet’s face.

She stood her ground as Long Quiet dismounted and walked toward her, aware of the gaping Indians who’d left their tipis and clustered around to find out what all the fuss was about.

“I have come to claim you as my
paraibo
,” Long Quiet said loudly enough to be clearly heard by several of those close by.

Bay bristled at his arrogant tone of voice, which assumed her acceptance. “What if I refuse your offer?”

He stepped closer, so his next words could be heard only by her. “Of course you can always return my gift. But I do not advise it. You belong to me now.”

“My place is with—”

“—your husband.” A powerful hand grasped her arm, pulling her along, until she suddenly found herself blinking at the dimness inside her tipi.

“Many Horses is taking She Touches First as his wife,” Long Quiet said. “He would have given you to someone else unless I claimed you. Tonight we will share a blanket. And you cannot—will not—say no.”

“But—”

“I will be waiting in my tipi when the sun leaves the sky, Shadow, my wife. You will come to me then.”

He turned on his heel and left her standing alone. Bay sank to the dirt floor, holding her head in her hands. What was happening? Had Long Quiet really just claimed her for his bride? He hadn’t sounded like a man terribly pleased by his good fortune. What would happen to her when he left the village? Did he plan to take her with him? The haven she’d created for herself in the Comanche village was crumbling around her ears.

She walked proudly from the tipi, her head held high, and began to drive the herd of ponies toward Many Horses’ pasture—the sign that she’d accepted Long Quiet’s extravagant proposal of marriage.

Despite her resolve, as the sun set, Bay searched for chores that would delay the time when she must submit to her new husband. It was nearly dark when she collected a kettle and detoured to the creek to draw water, thinking she would need it to bathe before the night was done. The darkness had never frightened her, yet tonight there were shadows moving around her which, although she peered at them intently, never materialized into anything. She’d almost reached the edge of the village when a raspy voice accosted her.

“Devil woman! Evil one! Go away from here. We do not want you among us!”

Bay whirled to search out the source of the hissing voice, but could find no one in the shadows. “Who’s there?”

“Leave this place. Take your evil medicine and go!” a second voice spat.

Bay whirled back to search for the other figure, but again saw nothing but shadows. “I will not harm you,” she cried. “Please, who are you?”

The taunts were terrifying. Bay stood still, waiting, but only silence greeted her. For a moment she debated whether to go on to the creek or flee to Long Quiet’s tipi. She knew the fears of the villagers had increased when, so closely following Many Horses’ injury and the accusation of sorcery by She Touches First, the hunt had been a failure.