Lakota Flower (7 page)

Cloud Chaser saw how Caroline gaped at him as he revealed what would take place during the night. “Do not worry; you will be safe and happy in the Cheyenne camp. He takes you to the mother of his close friend, Red Wolf. She is the wife of Badger, their war chief; she is white, but not a captive. She is a good woman. You will like her and respect her. She is called Sparrow, for she is small and sings much in a good voice.”

Caroline was stunned and panicked by the unexpected news that she was being sent—no, taken—to strangers. Had she done something terribly wrong, committed an unforgivable act, or accidentally offended the chief or shaman or another important person during the long journey? Whatever the mistake was, it couldn’t have occurred today, as she had worked diligently since their arrival at midday. She doubted that Macha was jealous of her or hated her and wanted her sent away. As for Cloud Chaser, he was too much in love with his wife and was too honorable to have lustful cravings for her or for any other woman, so it couldn’t be to get rid of a temptation. The couple had said and done nothing this afternoon to indicate displeasure with her or to even hint at what was about to happen. After those thoughts whirled through her mind at high speed and provided no explanation, she
murmured, “I don’t understand. Haven’t I been obedient and respectful?”

“Yes, but—”

Though rudeness was unlike her, Caroline interrupted, “Am I being sent away because of your cousin?”

“Yes, for Two Feathers seeks to make trouble for us about you.”

His reply verified her suspicion, but evoked more questions. “What kind of trouble? Why does it matter what he says and does? You’re the chief’s son, the shaman’s grandson. Surely you have more power and respect than he does. I thought you told me a gift couldn’t be given away, and I was a gift from your brother,” she reminded him.

Cloud Chaser frowned, unsettled by the predicament and his cousin’s spitefulness and touched by her fears and pleas. “With just cause, the deed can be done. Trouble is trouble, and I cannot explain more to you.”

Caroline realized all of her hard work to learn Lakota would profit her nothing in the Cheyenne camp. Yet, since Red Wolf’s mother was white, she could communicate with her, and learn another Indian language. But how would she be viewed and received there? Here, she felt safe in Cloud Chaser’s protection and had hope for a future release. There, she didn’t know what to expect. She recalled that everything seemed fine until his walk and conversation with … “Is this exile War Eagle’s idea?”

With the hope of preventing Caroline from hating and losing respect for his younger brother, Cloud Chaser said, “Yes, but it was a necessary and wise decision, and will be good for all concerned. Soon, Lakotas will be at war with the army, with your people, with your brother. We must not have dissension among us when that bloody sun rises.”

“What will your people say and think when I’m sent away?”

“I cannot predict the words and actions of others, but I will find a good and true way to explain this deed.”

You speak, but reveal nothing! Try another path to obtain clues.
“How will Two Feathers behave when he learns you refused to trade me to him but you sent me to others, and on the sly, under the cover of darkness? Won’t that look odd? Be offensive? Angering?”
Please, change your mind!

“It does not matter what my cousin says, thinks, or feels. The choice is mine, and I have made it: you go to Red Wolf’s mother as her helper.”

Caroline realized he was being contradictory and befuddling. If his cousin had no importance in the matter, why and how was Two Feathers the cause of it? Even so, it was futile to argue with Cloud Chaser. Perhaps the motive was to separate her and War Eagle for some reason… Whatever the truth, she wasn’t going to be told the entirety of it, so she must resolve herself to her new fate and hope for the best. “I’ll pack my belongings and be ready to leave when your brother comes for me during the night. Before I go, I want to thank you and Dawn for being so good to me. I know it must have been hard at times since I’m considered an enemy to your band.”

“You are not our enemy, Caroline, and we will miss you and your help. If this were not necessary for harmony here, you could stay with us. Do not be afraid, for you will be safe in Red Wolf’s camp; that I swear on my honor.”

She nodded acceptance of his final statement. Regardless of the fact he had said earlier, “I cannot predict the words and actions of others,” she knew he was being sincere. Yet, her distressed mind retorted,
And your brother will be safe here with me gone. Isn’t that part of the dilemma? Or have I read too much into his furtive observations of me? Besides, what could come of such a mismatched relationship? Become his “squaw,” as the soldiers called such women? Give up everything I am and know for a nomadic existence, take on such a hard and perilous life? No, it’s impossible and foolish. We’re from two different races, cultures, upbringings, religions, and more. Worst of all, our peoples are enemies and we’re heading for war.

Maybe her imagination was just running wild because of that weird dream following Clara’s wedding and that silly act of placing the fruitcake beneath her pillow. Yet, it was a strange coincidence that her dream man looked like her captor from behind. How could she explain dreaming about an Indian when she had never met one, although she had seen sketches and photographs of eastern band members during history classes at school? And why did this particular man so enchant her? Caroline realized she would have a long and close study of War Eagle beginning in a few hours. She could not guess what he or she would say or do along their journey when they were alone and—

Cloud Chaser interrupted her rambling thoughts when he suggested she take a nap after packing her possessions. The first leg of the ride would be long and a sleepless night awaited her.

Caroline agreed, then countered, “I would rather take a bath and put on clean clothes first if that’s permissible, since I don’t know when I can do so again anytime soon.”

Cloud Chaser nodded. “I will watch Casmu while Dawn takes you to a private spot in the forest. But you must hurry, for dark comes soon.”

“I will, and thank you, Cloud Chaser, for everything.”

“You are welcome, Caroline. Now, get your things and hurry.”

While she fetched what she needed from her satchel, Cloud Chaser related her request and his agreement to his wife.

Macha whispered to him in a sad tone, “I wish she did not have to go.”

“As do I, my wife, but it must be this way.”

“You are right, but it pains my heart to hurt her and to lose her. I pray the Great Spirit will protect her from all harm in the Cheyenne camp.”

“As do I, my wife. She is ready. Go and return quickly.”

* * *

At a secluded section of the stream, Caroline stripped and bathed in a hurry as ordered. She rushed to wash her hair, knowing it would dry soon in the August heat. She was glad she had retrieved the remaining bar of French soap from her trunk, a gift from her parents at Christmas, and knew it would not last much longer. For now, its fragrant scent clung to her blond hair and her skin.

Perhaps, Caroline admitted to herself, she was spoiled by her upbringing back South, but she dearly missed long and soothing tub baths and freshly laundered garments, a colorful and fashionable variety of them. She missed shopping strolls, visits with friends, musicals, plays, and other activities. She missed having a chamber pot and an outhouse, a stove, real dishes and utensils, books, needles for sewing, oil lamps, private rooms, privacy itself. Most of all, she missed her parents and her brother and freedom.

Tears filled her eyes as she thought of those losses. After her parents’ deaths, she had been afraid and confused, but—with faith in God and solace from friends—she had coped with her anguish and survived. After the surrender of her home and land, she had managed to abide that harsh misfortune and move onward toward a fresh start with her brother. After her capture, she had learned to accept yet another intimidating deviation in her life. How many more changes and losses, unwilling sacrifices, must she endure? How much anguish and how many challenges must she confront before she was free and happy and belonged to herself again?

“Ceye sni he,”
Macha told her in a gentle tone.

Caroline took a deep breath to regain control of her emotions. She turned and said,
“Slolwaye sni,”
revealing she did not understand.

Macha wished she could speak to Caroline in English to comfort her, but she had promised she would not. She pointed to her own eyes, trailed forefingers down her cheeks, smiled, and shook her head, indicating she had coaxed her not to cry.

Caroline wiped away her tears, forced out a smile, and told Dawn she was good-hearted and thanked her.
“Macha cantewaste. Pilamaya.”

Macha smiled and returned the kind words. “Caroline
cantewaste.”

Caroline stepped from the water and dried off using the thin blanket Macha passed to her. She donned clean garments, combed her damp hair.
“Winyeya manka.”
She told the woman she was ready, finished, as Cloud Chaser had taught her en route to the camp.

Caroline was surprised when Dawn gave her a quick embrace and said, “Macha, Caroline,
kolas.”
She smiled, as she did consider Dawn a friend and was happy the woman felt the same way about her.
“Han, kolas,”
she concurred—
Yes, friends
—as she gave the woman an embrace. She wished she could say more but a language barrier prevented sharing her feelings.

Now that Caroline was dressed, War Eagle watched the scene and listened to their genial exchange from his concealed position. While sneaking in the forest to hide journey supplies to retrieve later, he had come upon the women by accident. Not wanting to frighten or embarrass them or provoke them to think he was spying, he had remained still and silent to prevent exposing his presence, as he knew they would finish and leave soon. Though he had tried not to peek at the bathing female, the scene had been too tempting to resist. He had committed that offense only once, if he did not count his initial glimpse of the naked woman.

At the first look, his breath and self-control had been stolen for a short time. It was as if he had lacked the will and strength to turn away from the glorious sight. She was beautiful. Her waist was small and her breasts were ample. Her arms and legs were sleek and strong. He could imagine how soft her unmarred skin was and how enjoyable it would be to
touch it, even more so to place his lips on hers and to share a union on a sleeping mat while his hands roamed her body. It would be a great and joyous victory to win that coup for himself, but it could not be; and strangely that reality pained and frustrated him. He had jerked his gaze from the forbidden sight and stared at the ground for a while.

Then, some powerful force had pulled his gaze back to her, and he had been unable to resist it, despite what he believed was a fierce struggle on his part. As his enthralled gaze caressed her from sunny hair to water-enclosed calves, he tried to surmise the potency and source of her large magic and appeal. He somehow knew it was more than her looks and the excitement of challenging the unknown and taking an enormous risk that drew him to her. What else it was, he did not know.
Are you good or bad, Heart Flower? Have you been sent by the Creator to test my skills with the Four Virtues, or to give me joy, or for some purpose to help us win our battle with your people? Or were you sent to me by an evil spirit to shame and defeat me? If you are evil, I must slay you, for I am the one who found you and brought you to my people. But I pray you are good and live, even if I cannot have you.

He had averted his gaze once more and had not peeked again, even when he heard Macha comforting her. He had not looked until Caroline said she was ready, and then Macha had embraced her and she had done the same in return. It had seemed to him as if Caroline was being as sincere as the wife of his second brother. His keen mind had shouted that surely an evil spirit did not weep, did not look so sad about leaving friends, could not smile with such honesty in her sky eyes and on her lovely face. Surely she could not be an evil
wicagnayesa,
for such a wicked trickster could not fool him so easily.

War Eagle watched the women depart, waited until they were out of hearing and seeing range, and completed his task. Perhaps, he reasoned, the Great Spirit had urged him to
learn more English from Chumani while traveling to their winter camp so he would be prepared to communicate with Caroline better when they faced the dark event looming ahead. But why, he wondered, would that be important to the Creator? Or was it only important to him, a selfish desire?
Soon, I will learn the truth about you, when we are alone…

Near midnight while the camp’s inhabitants were asleep except for guards scattered out in all directions beyond its perimeter, War Eagle sneaked from his family’s tepee without arousing his parents and sister and went to Cloud Chaser’s dwelling. He found Macha and Casmu slumbering peacefully, but Caroline was waiting for him just inside the shadows of its entrance. She arose from a sitting mat and nodded that she was ready to go. He lifted the satchel from the ground to carry it to make certain it created no alerting sounds during their stealthy departure. He peered outside and listened with keen ears to check their surroundings for any indication of possible discovery, then signaled for her to come with him. They slipped into the nearby forest and retrieved the hidden supplies, then made their way to where his large Appaloosa and another smaller horse were secured to bushes. He helped her mount and watched her settle herself on the blanket that covered the horse’s broad back. He grasped the tethers of both animals and guided them away on foot.

As a precaution against falling off, Caroline clutched the mane as she had done many times during childhood bareback
rides. She had not spoken to War Eagle and had done her best not to make any noise. He looked mysterious and tantalizing in the light of a two-thirds moon. He was clad in moccasins, leggings, loincloth, and vest, all in sienna-colored buckskin and all unadorned, if she didn’t count the fringe work. The top and sides of his ebony hair had been gathered and secured behind his head with a short binding. What she had learned was a medicine pouch was suspended around his neck on another thong, one containing what he had chosen as protective charms. A sheathed knife hung from a plain belt around his narrow waist.

In fact, she recalled from past sightings of him in only a loincloth, his entire body was sleek and agile with visible well-toned muscles. His flesh appeared darker than usual beneath the moon’s caressing light, as did his deep brown eyes when he looked at her. He was an example of near perfection in a man. She didn’t know if it was being so close to him or making a furtive escape or both that caused her heart to beat faster. She could not surmise what might happen if they were exposed and halted.

When they reached Cloud Chaser’s guard position, War Eagle related his gratitude and farewell in sign language and saw his second brother respond in like manner to maintain their silence and secrecy. He leapt upon his horse’s back and, still holding her mount’s tether, left the area in a slow and cautious walk. After reaching a safe distance, he passed the leather strips to Caroline and motioned for her to follow him.

It did not take long for War Eagle to realize she was a skilled rider, and obedient to his order for silence and caution. A surge of excitement coursed through him at being alone with her, while sadness and anger nibbled at his mind to think of her lost forever. He could not help remembering her own sadness and tears at the stream, and how he had yearned to comfort her as Macha had done.

No, he must not give Caroline comfort by holding her in
his arms and telling her not be afraid because he would protect her from all harm. But, he reasoned, was taking her to Sparrow the only way to do so? He wished he were convinced of that so he would not be so troubled by it. Should he plead with Wakantanka to intervene on his behalf, beg the Creator to find an honorable way for him to keep her as his woman? Would it be showing shameful weakness and selfishness to ask to be blessed or rewarded in such a manner? Yes, for it was up to the Great Spirit to decide when and how a man should be honored by Him. At present, he needed to push such tormenting thoughts aside; he must not allow himself to be distracted.

By the time they halted for their second break, the first soft glow of dawn was beginning to chase away the darkness. During their first stop, they had not spoken—just dismounted, sipped water, and allowed the horses to rest and to drink from a stream. She guessed they had been traveling for about six hours, but their pace had been slow during the night to avoid accidents such as a horse stepping into an unseen animal burrow or hole from a rotted tree stump. They had journeyed through many patches of woods and a dense forest, crossed several meadows of tall grass and wildflowers, ridden over many low rolling hills, and skirted higher ones. They had flushed birds in ground or bush nests and had spooked nocturnal animals foraging in the woods or grazing in the meadows or drinking at streams. From the moon’s angle during their movements, she knew they were heading northwestward from the eastern side of the Paha Sapa’s rugged but beautiful range. She did not know where the Cheyenne camp was or how long it would take to reach it; and she did not ask him since he wanted to maintain silence between them for security reasons. But on that stop, she did ask to be excused.
“Leja?”

War Eagle glanced at her lovely face with pinkened cheeks and gave permission for her to enter the bushes nearby.
“Han.”

To Caroline, he looked as if he had been about to say more—no doubt to warn her not to attempt an escape—but had changed his mind. She assumed it was because he realized he could trust her not be reckless, and she wouldn’t be.

Perhaps, she thought, she could coax or trick or scare the Cheyenne into releasing her. Or perhaps she could earn her freedom in some manner. Or she could find a way to escape after she procured their trust and wasn’t watched as closely as she would be upon her arrival. In the event the latter was possible or was provoked by mistreatment, she was making a mental map of their route, just as she had done from her capture point and from the encampment on the grasslands. She was glad she had a good memory.

Upon rejoining War Eagle, she knelt by the stream to wash her hands and to refresh her face with cool water from the nearby mountains. She was aware that the stoic warrior was watching her, openly this time, and she wondered if that meant anything special…

“We go,
Wi
come,” he said, pointing toward the rising sun.

Again Caroline mounted with his assistance. Although his help was unnecessary, she said nothing to discourage it, and she deduced he knew that fact and chose to ignore it for an unknown reason. Each time, he had lifted her up on the horse’s back as if she weighed less than one of her fancy evening gowns with many yards of satin and ample adornments, items now resting in a canyon in the Badlands. Every time his hands had gripped her waist or brushed against an arm or a leg, quivers had raced over her body and a strange warmth had spread across every inch of her. On occasion, their blue and brown gazes had met, to be averted quickly or to lock for a few moments. It was as if they wanted to say or do something impetuous and intimate but both lacked the
courage. If, she mused, something physical—a kiss or an embrace—occurred, would it change anything between them? She didn’t know.

Late that afternoon and following a midday halt to eat and rest, War Eagle became worried about possible perils ahead. Soon, they would cross the edge of Crow territory, the Lakota’s fierce enemies. He hoped he was right about the Bird People not being in that area during this time. He knew the Long Meadows Treaty near Fort Laramie four hot seasons ago forbade enemy tribes and nations from warring with each other. They ware supposed to be allowed to pass through each other’s territory without being attacked and slain. Still, sneaky raids and slayings happened and were concealed from the army’s knowledge. He also knew the Crow mostly honored their treaty with the army, as the Bird People liked trading with them and liked receiving the goods called “annuities” for keeping the peace with whites and bluecoats. If they kept up their current pace and confronted no trouble, they should reach the Cheyenne camp when the sun was high overhead on the next day.

That meant he only had this evening and tomorrow morning to spend with the captivating woman who rode slightly to his left flank. He ordered himself not to think about her or about losing her, to concentrate on the path ahead to sight any Crow or other hazard before reaching it. He was tired, but he had gone without sleep for two days on many occasions and could rest and drop his guard after they entered Red Wolf’s camp. He had allowed Caroline to sleep for a short time after their meal, knowing she was in need of that kindness since she was not a trained warrior.

She had smiled and thanked him for his generosity and good deed, which made her beauty and great appeal more noticeable to him. Despite his constant cautions to stay alert, several times he had caught himself gazing at her as she
slumbered. He had craved to stroke her sunny hair, to caress her soft skin, to press his lips to hers, to take her as his woman in all ways. It had been a fierce struggle to restrain his desire and to focus on his duty and remember his sense of honor. He—

Caroline felt compelled to intrude on what she deemed were serious thoughts since her captor seemed oblivious of what was chasing them from their rear. She called his name and told him to
look,
“Wanbli,
iho!”
She saw him rein in his mount and turn toward her in haste. As he did so, with amazing speed and agility, his weapon was in his grasp and ready to use if a threat was approaching them. She repeated,
“Iho,”
as she motioned to the dark sky behind them, which indicated that violent weather was stalking them. She knew that summer thunderstorms struck swift and harsh in this territory, so she wanted to seek cover as quickly as possible.

Thunder rumbled behind them and slate-colored clouds moved nearer as if in a hurry to overtake and assail them. Strong gusts of wind began to whip about the grass and wildflowers as if threatening to yank them up by their roots, and to shake trees and bushes as if furious at them for some offense. Lightning, singular and multibranched streaks, flashed to their rear and almost overhead. Loud booms of thunder came in their wake; the time separating those two forces of nature revealed how close the dazzling bolts were.

War Eagle studied the ominous sky in haste just before a lightning bolt was seemingly hurled downward like a flaming lance and struck a large tree. The severed top half of the tall pine crashed to the earth and obstructed the trail ahead of them. He heard Caroline shriek in surprise, and the two horses pranced and whinnied in agitation. Since he was familiar with this area, he knew where to find safety. “Come.
Inankni yo!”

Caroline did not delay in following his lead and obeying his command to “hurry.” She had never liked bad storms. She remembered being terrified of them as a child after she
saw a man killed by a brilliant strike of lightning like the one that had felled part of the huge tree not far beyond them. She recalled how she had snuggled in her mother’s arms, hidden her face against a comforting chest, closed her eyes, and covered her ears with her small hands until it ended. This storm alarmed her, since they were in the open and it was surrounding them fast. Her tension and fears increased as she coaxed War Eagle to go faster and find adequate shelter before they were injured or drenched.

What if God is intervening and saving you? What if your captor is slain and you’re freed? You could take the horse and supplies and join David.
Yet, as she looked at War Eagle’s broad back and recalled that he had never mistreated her, she realized she didn’t want her freedom at that enormous price. It pained her to think of his death and saddened her to think of never seeing him and many of the Red Shields again. As if he sensed she was thinking wicked thoughts, he half turned and looked at her, their gazes locking for a few moments. Shame flooded her entire body and she had the urge to apologize, but she did not.

War Eagle misread the expression on her pale face and in her wide blue eyes to mean great fear and a plea for comfort and protection. He could not help murmuring,
“Kopegla sni yo,
Kawa Cante. Come,” he added in English and hoped she had not grasped his careless slip.

After he turned forward and continued downward, Caroline stared at his back. Had she heard and understood him correctly? Had he intentionally meant to say, “Do not be afraid, Heart Flower?” Surely not. Yet, from past lessons, she knew what those first three Lakota words meant, and she was certain Macha had pointed to a flower when she said
“kawa.”
She knew
“wastecante”
meant
good-hearted
and
“waste”
meant
good.
That had to mean
“cante”
was
heart,
even if it had come last because they were joined to form one word. She had learned that adjectives came after nouns, as the Paha Sapa, Hills Black, for Black Hills. Verbs came after direct
objects and nouns before prepositions. Many of their language rules were reversed from hers. She was glad Cloud Chaser had spoken English so well and had taught her those differences.

You’re mistaken; you must be,
she told herself.
Perhaps Dawn was referring to that particular kind of flower, one with yellow petals, and the color of your hair simply reminded him of it. Since your name is so hard for him to say and Indians often choose names from nature, he probably just called you something easier and more familiar to him. Forget it, silly girl!

After they reached a place with large black boulders scattered about and a broad and high cliff behind them, War Eagle leapt off his Appaloosa and helped Caroline dismount. “Go,” he told her as he pointed to a spot where a thick ledge jutted from the dark wall of solid rock. As Caroline ran in that direction, he tethered the horses in a dense area of trees where he hoped they would be safe from harm. He grabbed the supplies and ran to join her as rain started to come down in large and fast drops.

Caroline bent over, ducked her head, and scrambled beneath the overhang, which was about four feet from the ground. The shelf was wide and deep enough for two people to share close confines in an emergency, and this certainly qualified. She pressed her back against the rock, drew her legs to her breasts, and tugged her skirt behind her calves. She hugged her knees to her chest where her heart thudded in anxiety as the storm’s fury increased. She watched War Eagle toss in the supply and water pouches, duck, and take a seat beside her. Within minutes, a deluge of water was coming down.