Proud Wolf's Woman (10 page)

Where was he?

Suddenly, as if in answer to her unspoken question, Neeheeowee appeared at her side, silently, his footsteps making no sound. He did not even glance at her.

“Na-me’esta.”

She quickly came to realize he did not speak to her, but rather to someone else, and it took her a moment to determine to whom he spoke. There appeared another man at Neeheeowee’s side, who materialized as if by magic. And though Julia felt certain the two men were friends, it looked as though they were arguing.

“Nesene, eesepeheva’e.”

“Saaaa!”
Neeheeowee expelled his breath with what seemed to Julia to be a curse.

More talk. More words, some angry, although Julia noted that the other Indian did not have as much to say—and that he often grinned, even laughed.

“Saaaa!”
Neeheeowee said again, the word commanding such force that Julia almost jumped.

He directed his attention toward her, giving her a look full of such intensity, Julia would have run away, perhaps to cower somewhere else, had the man been anyone else but Neeheeowee. But this man
was
Neeheeowee; she
did
know him, and she felt her temper rise at what she felt were mounting injustices.

She glared at him. How dare he treat her in this manner? He avoided her, did not speak to her, threw her into the company of people she didn’t know. He could have stayed close by to her. He could have given her comfort, let her know what he did, what was to happen to her in the future.

The more she thought about it, the more indignant she became. And Julia, staring angrily at Neeheeowee, resolved that, by the end of the day, the man would know her temper.

It was a pleasing thought but, oddly, the contemplation of it did not bring her the pleasure that it should. She would have to do better.

“Saaaa!”

Neeheeowee’s brother-in-law grinned. “Why do you not stay here a while? You have what you want, my friend. You have the white captive.”

“Haahe,
yes.” Neeheeowee felt like shouting, but cautioned himself instead to remain calm, to conduct himself with dignity. “Yes, it is true,” he said, his voice low, even. “I have the white captive. But at what a price.” He frowned. “Never have I heard of anyone carrying on such a trade. And I am afraid, my friend, that it will be talked about for a long time here in your camp. Do you not see that it would be better if I go? I do not wish to hear my name spoken with laughter. Besides, what is there now to make me stay? A chance to obtain superior weapons? The need to prepare for a fight?
Eaaa!
None of those. I have nothing; not a horse, not a robe, not even a scrap of food. Nothing! And why?”

Neeheeowee threw a scathing look toward Julia, while he tried to make sense again of how it had all happened. He had walked into camp a wealthy man; he would leave it now a pauper. His resources stripped; he stood to be perhaps the poorest man in camp. But it was not truly this that bothered him, since he believed, as most Indian males did, that material wealth signaled an inherent weakness; that the hoarding of goods was for the women, who, alone, could afford to remain tied down to them.

No, what bothered him most was that he had envisioned receiving something of value to show for his wealth, for all his hard work this past year: guns, ammunition, food. Perhaps a trinket or two. Something. Anything.

But what did he have? A woman. And not just any woman: A white woman!

“My friend,” Mahoohe said, breaking into Neeheeowee’s thoughts. “Do not think of this as a defeat. Think of it as”—he looked at Julia—“a privilege. She is quite beautiful.”

Neeheeowee narrowed his eyes. “Do you think I care about that?”

Mahoohe actually laughed. “I would.”

Neeheeowee shook his head. “I do not believe that my ears hear correctly. How can you say this to me? I am stuck with a woman, my friend, a white woman; someone who could not find her way on the prairie if guided by
Maheoo,
God of all. And I am stuck with her for the next moon, maybe the next two moon cycles—until I can return her to her people.”

Mahoohe only laughed louder. He said, “My poor brother-in-law certainly has much to concern him. This I witness as true. But my brother-in-law has also much to learn, I think. I am not sure I would do more than look at her if I were in your place. But very well, if you feel you must return the woman to the white men, then go. But take what I have to offer and pick out three of my finest ponies to see you safely on your journey.”

Neeheeowee raised an eyebrow, the only indication that he struggled with an emotion. At length, he said, “I do not want to take more from you. Have I not already two of your buffalo robes in my possession? Do I not already need to take some
ame,
pemmican from you? I will accept no more. I do not want to feel more indebted to you.”

Again Mahoohe shook his head and grinned. “You also rejected the present of the camping tepee that my wife and sister made for you, my offer of more clothing and food. It will not hurt you to take three of my ponies. After all, after you return the woman, Julia, to the soldier town, you will have to start over, new ponies, more capture. Take what I can give you now.”

Neeheeowee snorted and, looking over toward Julia, sulked. None of this was in his plans. None of this was what he wanted. Yet, there remained no other path for him to take. He might not like it, he might not want to do it, but there was nothing else he could do—not if he wished to remain trustworthy to himself, to others.

Certainly he’d had no choice but to buy Julia away from her captor, just as he had no choice now but to take her back to the place where he had once met her; to Fort Leavenworth. He couldn’t leave her here. He couldn’t take her with him on a mission of revenge. He also could not dismiss her. She was friend—or at least, she had been…once.

He scoffed to himself. No, there remained no other path for him, nothing else honorable that he could do.

He had to return her to her people.

Mahoohe nudged his brother-in-law in the elbow. He said, “She is yours now. You do not have to take her back. Why not enjoy your purchase?”

“Eaaa!”
The word, said almost like a curse, was Neeheeowee’s only response at first. He gawked at his brother-in-law, then with quiet reserve, Neeheeowee asked, “Has my brother-in-law lost his mind? How can you ask me such a thing? Did I not tell you that she is a friend? What I do, I do for the sake of my honor—for hers. It isn’t because of her beauty…it isn’t because…”

Neeheeowee scowled. What was happening to him? Why did he suddenly feel light-headed just talking about Julia? Didn’t he even know his own mind regarding her?

Mahoohe touched his shoulder, the amusement on his brother-in-law’s face saying more than Neeheeowee cared to think about.

“Take my ponies,” Mahoohe said. “I will worry if you do not.”

Neeheeowee breathed out deeply, knowing the truth of his friend’s words. He said, “I see the wisdom of what you say. I will take one pony, but it will be the worst one I can find.”

“That will be fine,”
Mahoohe agreed, “since I own no weak ponies.”

“Saaaa!”
Neeheeowee shook his head, and, placing a hand upon his brother-in-law, he said, “Stay well and in peace while I am gone.” And with a defiant look thrown toward Julia, Neeheeowee turned around, striding away as quickly as possible.

He stopped once, spinning around to signal Julia to follow him. That she might not understand his intentions, that she might perhaps even fear him, did not bother him. Besides, he was too angry at the moment to care.

He would leave it to his relatives to ensure that she followed him.

He paced on ahead, hardly able to contain his anger. He struggled with it, knowing that he must put an end to his hard feelings, and he hurried on in an effort to gain control over himself. But oh, how he wished to give in and vent his anger toward Julia. Just once.

And why not? Wasn’t she the reason he was in this predicament?

Neeheeowee lifted his face toward the sun, momentarily oblivious to the world around him. What was wrong with demonstrating his anger? It wasn’t as though he would actually hurt her.

Yes, he decided all at once, this is what he would do. He would show Julia his temper. And if he forgot for a moment the teachings of his elders, that one always made a guest feel as welcome and as comfortable as possible, he was to be forgiven.

After all, it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t do his duty toward her. He was bound to take Julia to the white man’s fort, anyway, but it didn’t mean he had to like it; it didn’t mean he had to like her.

Yes, he decided, he would show the woman, Julia, no mercy.

None at all.

And strangely, though the thought should have brought him some measure of relief from his thoughts, it gave him nothing, not even the peace of mind which he sought.

Julia watched the early morning sun rise over the eastern horizon, shedding its glowing warmth across the endless prairie, where the buffalo grass and spring flowers waved in the strong, westerly wind. Behind her stood the Indian camp, now fully awake, the sounds of children and adults stirring in the breeze below. She gazed to the north, where Black Mesa rose to its majestic height, in defiance of the flat, sprawling prairie.

Neeheeowee stirred at her side. Encircled by the camp’s pony herd, Neeheeowee inspected a few of the animals. Julia gazed all around her, doing her best to focus her attention away from Neeheeowee. She was angry with him for what she considered his mistreatment of her, and she refused to acknowledge him.

Still she could not help but notice how his breechcloth fell forward and back with his every movement. Nor could she keep her gaze away from his movements, which seemed to entice her to observe so much more than just a small portion of his firm backside.

She shouldn’t look. She couldn’t; she mustn’t. Still…

She tried to tell herself it was only because she was female. Who wouldn’t look at all that skin there, all that…?

In truth, her preoccupation with the occasional view of his buttocks did much to incite her anger further. She had decided he would feel her displeasure.

She glanced back at him, determination in her gaze, yet instead of a quick flare of irritation, she caught sight of his hands, firm and smooth, as he patted first one, and then another mount.

She looked away at once, a strange feeling washing through her. And breathless all at once, she inhaled deeply, smelling, as she did so, the clean scent of prairie air, the wind having chosen that moment to rush by her, its feel warm and smooth against her skin. She sniffed, and the aroma of prairie, mixing with the unmistakable scent of horseflesh, gave her a distinctive feeling of pleasure, not anger.

It was not something she wanted to feel.

“Darn!”

Neeheeowee glanced over at her as she spoke, but she pretended not to notice, turning her attention to scanning the plains stretching out before her, spotting not so much as a tree to mark where they stood.

“Eaaa!”

She glanced back over her shoulder to see that Neeheeowee had singled out a pony from the huge herd, and it took no genius to observe he chose the most inferior pony in the bunch. Shouldn’t he be looking at another mount? Shouldn’t he be…

Neeheeowee had reached out to run his hands down over the animal’s haunches.

And a shiver tore over her skin, making Julia tremble. Quickly she averted her gaze.

Why was he concerning himself with that particular mount? Couldn’t he see that the pony, a filly, had a curved backbone? That the animal’s legs stood bowed out, and that a bluish film covered the filly’s eyes. Didn’t he notice these things?

The animal was truly inferior to the others, and Julia, as she stared at Neeheeowee, wondered at his knowledge of horseflesh.

“I always thought Indians were knowledgeable about matters pertaining to horses,” she said aloud, wondering why she had even voiced the concern. He did not understand her, plus, in truth, his apparent inability to evaluate horseflesh gave her cause to think badly of him, something she greatly desired at this moment. For it kept her thoughts off of him and away from that flapping loincloth.

He didn’t glance at her as she spoke, but he lifted his shoulders in a highly communicative gesture. At length, he finished his inspection of the mare, and, without once turning to face Julia, he motioned her forward, making several gestures toward her, as though she were half-blind, as well as dumb.

She knew other Indians understood this form of communication with hand gestures: she had even seen her friend Kristina communicate with the Indians in this way. But Julia had neither tried to learn it, nor had she ever desired to do so.

“I don’t understand,” she said, and stared at Neeheeowee as though he were more alien to her than even this land on which they stood.

He looked over to her then, scoffing at her as he shook his head, clearly disenchanted with her; he grunted but didn’t utter a word. Instead, he drew a rawhide lasso over the pony’s head, making an effective bridle out of it. He then bent, picking up one of the buffalo robes which lay at his feet and, straightening, he threw it over the pony’s back.

“Ne-naestse!”

He motioned to Julia to come forward and pick up the other robe, but when she pretended not to understand, he bent back down, lifted up the other robe, and advanced toward her.

Julia drew in her breath as he approached her. But it wasn’t out of fear. No, not that.

Something else. Something much more disturbing.

His breechcloth fell open with his stride, the motion enticing Julia with a view of the bulge that lay between the cloth.

She gasped, unexpected excitement racing through her.

This was not supposed to be. These things she was not supposed to feel. She was married…no she was not…not any longer. But she had only recently been widowed.

How could she even contemplate looking at this man, at this Indian, at his…? How could she even…?