Gray Hawk's Lady: Blackfoot Warriors, Book 1 (28 page)

“But Gray Hawk, I am not so certain that I—”

“I want to tell you how proud I am of you that you have decided to help.” He suddenly grinned at her. “I knew that you would make the best sits-beside-him-wife that a man ever had.”

“I—” She meant to deny it, but truly, what could she say after such a sweeping and, yes, a flattering statement?

Besides, he had surged to his feet and was already standing at the tepee entrance. “I must go now to see
nitakkaawa
,
my friend. I will also send my sisters to you that you may get started.”

“I—” Again, she froze. And so when she heard herself saying, “I’m only happy to assist,” she decided she would do just that…try to help.

After all, these were primitive people, and she lived in a much more advanced civilization than they did. She could probably show them a few things…

Chapter Eighteen

By the end of the day, the entire camp was buzzing with the news.

Not only had their elusive Blackfoot brother married, but this same warrior, who was feared by their enemies, who had already counted over twenty coup though he had barely reached twenty-five winters, had been captured.

Not by an enemy tribe, not by a brave warrior.

No, he had been captured by a white woman.

Gray Hawk heard the stories and chuckled.

Let them think what they wanted. It was good, the people accepting his wife so readily. It was what he had intended should happen.

That she had also done such a brave act when she had captured him, would only add to her credit. Rarely did a man undertake such a deed, an act that might claim his life, and that a woman had set out to do it—and had accomplished it—would be told of in this camp and in many others for years to come.

In truth, many men in the village were already singing songs of her praise and, for the first time, those same men were allowing women into their circle to sing with them.

It was remarkable.

He didn’t tell anyone of his own escape nor of his capture of
her.
There would be time enough for that later.

He sat now inside his more-than-friend’s lodge, having been invited there to smoke.

He had given his friend a pony for his part in helping Gray Hawk’s family, but there was more assistance needed and another horse to offer if his friend, White Eagle, would aid him once again.

Not that he expected White Eagle to refuse. Being a more-than-friend meant just that. White Eagle was a friend, yet more.

The two of them had given their vows long ago to act for the other, to each one lay down his life for the other, if need be.

It was a custom shared by all the different Indian tribes. More-than-friends went into battle together, hunted together, went on raids together, helping one another and ensuring each other’s safety. If one was ever injured, so too did the other take on the injury as though it were his own.

When Gray Hawk had lived among the whites, he had looked in vain for just such a tradition, but he had found none. In truth, what he had discovered had startled him.

Among all people, there are those who deal in lies, who backstab, who pretend help while bringing misery and death. Among all races of men are those who make their own lot “better” by tearing down the good deeds of others. Such people are few.

But while in the white man’s camp, Gray Hawk had never witnessed so many of these kinds of people in one place. There he had seen so much lying, cheating and murder—and by those reported to be best of friends—that he had become leery of ever trusting a white man.

He wondered how the white man would ever survive. How could he live and not know that friendship was a matter of life or death? That to live alone always courted disaster? In this country, the more friends one had, the longer he might live.

But a more-than-friend went even beyond all this.

A more-than-friend shared in the other person’s happiness as well as each other’s misery; they shared one another’s adventures, their triumphs, their very life itself. If one’s lodge was full with food, so too was the other’s.

The only thing a more-than-friend did not share was one’s wife, although it sometimes happened that if there were a death, a more-than-friend might be expected to take on the other’s family, to care for it and see to its welfare, as White Eagle had done for Gray Hawk’s family.

Still, such unselfish giving, whether expected or not, never went unrewarded.

It was why Gray Hawk had offered his friend a horse. It was why he was prepared to offer more.

“My brother,” Gray Hawk started, “I have a few more ponies to offer you and a favor to ask of you.”

White Eagle’s expression didn’t even change. “It was what I anticipated when I first saw you walk into camp. It is because of the white woman, is it not?”

“Yes,” said Gray Hawk. “I have taken her as my sits-beside-him-wife, and so her problems have become as my own. And she has worries.”

“I remember,” White Eagle said. “At the white man’s trading post, she was trying to persuade one of us to accompany her back to her home. Anyone would assume that a woman who would offer such a thing must have many problems. What are hers?”

“I don’t know them all, but the one that worries her most is her father.”

“What? Surely he must approve of you. Does he know of your excellent war record? If not, I could go to him and tell him…or perhaps, because you were so far from home, you did not have plenty of horses to bring to him? Other gifts?”

“It is nothing like that,” Gray Hawk said. “I did not meet him. We did not travel all the way to her home. I escaped the white man’s medicine canoe long before that.”

This news had White Eagle sitting up and leaning forward. He asked, “Did you have the Cree love medicine with you, that the white woman came with you willingly? I have heard that theirs is a powerful medicine.”

Gray Hawk grinned. “She did not exactly accompany me of her own free will.”

White Eagle looked up quickly. “You stole her?”

“
Aa
,
yes.”

White Eagle grinned. “What a great coup. Why have you not said anything about this?”

“I decided it was not as important as my sits-beside-him-wife gaining acceptance among our people.”

White Eagle looked into the fire a long time before he said, “I think you are wise to consider this. Did she truly steal you?”

“Yes, she did, with the help of some others.”

“Then she is an unusual woman.”

Gray Hawk only nodded his agreement.

White Eagle said, “What is it you need from me, my brother?”

“I must take my wife back to her father for the winter. Her father has some trouble that bothers my wife greatly, and so I must take her to him. She thinks that I can help the man. And so I must try.”

“
Aa
,
yes,
nitakkaawa
,
my friend, you are right. You must try, otherwise your wife might be forever unhappy. You wish me to care for your mother and sisters, then,
in
your absence?”

“
Aa,
yes. I will also ask my uncle, Black Calf, to help, since you also have your own family to support.”

White Eagle nodded. “It is good. There are many buffalo in our country this year. Our chances of success in the moon when the leaves change color are great. Do not worry. I will see that your family has enough meat to see them through the winter. And I will ask Black Calf to help.”

“I am very happy to have your help, my friend, and I am prepared to give you two more of my ponies, plus my best buffalo horse, for all these things that you will do for me.”

White Eagle stared at his friend. He said, “Your buffalo horse is known to be the best-trained pony in our camp. Many times has he ridden you in close to the herd to make the kill, and never once has he fallen or made an error in his judgment. You are certain you wish to give me such a fine animal?”

Gray Hawk grinned. “I am certain.”

“She must mean a great deal to you, this white woman. I can see by your actions that you hold her in great affection.”

“
Saa
, no—well, perhaps a little. It is only that—” He stopped himself. Somehow his words didn’t ring true. A little? Was that what he honestly felt in his heart?

He changed the subject. “I have heard,” Gray Hawk said, “that the geese are flying high.”

“It is true.”

“Also, I noticed on my journey here that the skins of many animals have thickened already; I saw several rabbits that have turned white before their time, and I observed that the songbirds are all gathering into flocks.”

“So it is. We have seen these things too.”

“Then you must understand that because these things are all signs of an early winter, I feel I must do this thing quickly, take the woman to see her father, lest I strand myself and my wife in a blizzard. It is why I will have very little time to spend in the camp. I hope you will excuse my hurry.”

“
Nitsikksisitsi’tsii’pa
,
I understand.” White Eagle took a puff on his pipe before passing it to Gray Hawk. “Do you know where this town is that you must take her?”

“No. I know only that it is south and that it sits on the Big River. But I also learned that the big medicine canoe made the journey upriver in a little over two moons. And since I can travel as quickly as it does, I think it might take me that long.”

White Eagle nodded. He said, “This is all good. You have considered that you will be traveling through much enemy ground?”

“
Aa
,
yes, my friend. But soon autumn will be here, and it is not a time of many war parties. But I will be cautious just the same.”

“
Aa
,
yes, there is no better scout in all of the Pikuni than you. I believe you will keep away from our enemies. But there is one more thing that I hope you have contemplated, my friend. And that is that if you take your woman back to her people, she may not want to leave them to come home with you.”

“
Aa
,
yes, I have thought of this, but she has given me her word that she will return with me.”

“And you believe the vow of a white woman?”

“
Saa
,
no, my friend. I believe
her
.”

White Eagle nodded and smiled. “You are wise,” he said. “You are wise.”

White Eagle then took his pipe, and holding it out away from him, he tapped the bowl of it, the Blackfoot signal that their meeting was at an end.

And Gray Hawk, bidding his friend a good day, arose to go and start his preparations.

Genevieve awoke to the musical notes of a bobolink, the bird Gray Hawk previously described to her on the trail. She listened sleepily to the song and gazed up toward the tepee poles, catching sight of the small bird sitting atop the poles, where he was apparently relishing the first few rays of the morning sun.

Genevieve stretched and snuggled deeper into the warm buffalo robes. She was alone in the tepee, Gray Hawk having awakened long ago to go out on the hunt.

It was the way it had been since they had arrived in camp. She rarely saw Gray Hawk.

Up before the rise of the sun and home after it had long set, he managed to get in only a few words with her each day before, exhausted, they both surrendered to sleep.

It must be a custom, she decided. She had noticed that, here in camp, men kept company only with men, and women with the women. Only rarely did one see a couple together, and this was usually at the end or at the start of the day.

And perhaps it was this, more than anything, that had caused her to relent in her requests upon Gray Hawk. Rarely had she brought up the subject of her father this past week, and with Gray Hawk acting the part of a devoted husband, she found herself slipping more and more into a new role: that of a wife.

She stretched again.

She knew she should arise, but here in the Indian camp, she had soon learned that life was not so strict nor so driven, and no one seemed to take notice of whether she dozed an extra hour or two or all day.

In truth, no one seemed inclined to criticize her at all, something she couldn’t understand. Or perhaps she just didn’t know their language well enough yet.

Still, she couldn’t remember ever having slept so well, so soundly or so long.

It was odd, she thought. After the first week in camp, she had taken so readily to the Indian life that she felt as if it were almost natural to her. She was relieved to have come to understand fairly well the language of those around her. Funny how, when one couldn’t communicate, one quickly learned the language.

She couldn’t yet speak the Blackfoot tongue, but she could at least tell what was being said to her.

She had met Gray Hawk’s sisters that first day in camp and had been startled to learn that the name they had called her,
insst
,
meant “sister” or “older sister,” although none of his siblings was more than sixteen years of age.

She had been both flattered and pleased when Gray Hawk told her that this was their way: that, for the rest of her life, his sisters were now her own.