Proud Wolf's Woman (24 page)

Read Proud Wolf's Woman Online

Authors: Karen Kay

It wouldn’t have fooled another Indian, most prairie travelers observing that buffalo paths generally trailed north and south, not east and west. And although he congratulated himself on his clever maneuvers, he frowned over Julia’s lack of understanding of this land and of her terrible sense of direction.

Neeheeowee looked up. The skies were no longer overcast. She traveled along his path, north and west, as though she knew where she was going. Didn’t she realize Fort Leavenworth lay in the other direction? Or was she simply following the trail, hoping that she might-eventually meet up with the white travelers?

But then again, perhaps her path was deliberate. It could be. She might be considering meeting up with other travelers at Bent’s Fort. If she kept moving at her current pace and in the same direction, she would reach Bent’s Fort within a day, maybe two. In all likelihood Julia may have been smarter than he had originally thought.

Perhaps, he thought, he should have given her more credit than he did.

Neeheeowee still followed her from a distance, taking care to ensure her welfare, even going so far as to throw berry bushes and wild turnips into her path when he thought she might be hungry. He had considered leaving a rabbit on the trail before her, placing it in such a way that she couldn’t miss it, but had decided against it, there being no logical explanation for an arrow hole in its carcass except the obvious one—if she noticed.

They were closer to the mountains now than they had ever been, and the land, which had been gradually drifting upward, had begun to change its scenery, a few mountain peaks visible in the distance. Certainly they were still in the flat plains area, but here and there the land allowed for more timber, especially along the Arkansas. He glanced at the river now, realizing it, too, had changed, the waterway sprouting an outcropping of islands in places.

Up ahead, within only a short walk, they would run into a valley his brother, Little White Man, called Big Timbers. Long an area of prime campground for the Cheyenne and the Arapaho tribes, this precinct boasted big, mammoth cottonwoods, their trunks sometimes as large as the bottom half of a tepee.

He hoped Julia would stop there within the grove of cottonwood trees for the night. At least she would be safe there for the evening, and he wouldn’t have to watch over her so strictly, this being his land, the land of the Cheyenne.

He would have to keep some sort of watch on her though, for there were other dangers there besides the human kind: cougars, wolves, coyotes, and bears. He sighed, realizing he would have to keep a watch over her no matter what she did. For of one thing he was certain: if there was danger out there in any form, Julia would find it, or rather he would see it and fight with it in order to save Julia.

He frowned at his thoughts, but seeing that Julia moved on up ahead of him, he set his mind to her trail.

 

Julia stood aghast, looking out over the enormous “park” she had just discovered. Immense cottonwoods filled the valley of the Arkansas River, the width of these trees, she judged probably ranging anywhere from seven to ten feet in diameter. The area underneath the trees, too, had been cleared of the numerous bush and smaller trees which usually grew in great profusion in these areas, making this stretch of land look as though it were a well-groomed, though shaded park.

“How welcoming this looks on a hot day like today,” she said, as though someone stood beside her.

Julia took a deep breath, sighing. “Lord, how I miss Neeheeowee.”

She gazed out before her. “It would have been nice to camp here with him. It would be fortunate also if he were here to tell me exactly where I am.”

Julia frowned. It was true. She was lost—hopelessly so. And she didn’t know what to do about it except to keep going on in the same direction she had been traveling all along. Sooner or later she would run into something, or someone—or so she hoped.

She remembered Neeheeowee saying that Bent’s Fort lay in this direction. He had also said it sat within walking distance of the Arkansas. If all that were true, it made sense, she kept reminding herself, that if she kept on her course and followed the river westward, she would eventually find the fort.

She didn’t feel the mounting panic that some associated with being lost. In some ways she felt she knew where she was, and she did—somewhat—as long as she had the river beside her.

Besides, somehow she always had enough to eat, firewood for her camp each night, and water for cooking. In truth, she’d had little to do each night but pick her campsite, build a fire, eat, and go to sleep.

It seemed awfully suspicious to her, and she wondered if Neeheeowee were somehow following her, providing her with her needs. She hoped so. But she could find no trace of him to confirm her speculations even though it seemed more than likely, and so she continued on her journey, pretending that Mother Nature truly wielded a helping hand.

She found a wonderful camping spot, in a shaded area under a huge cottonwood tree that looked as if it had been transplanted from a land of giants.

“This tree must be ten feet across,” Julia said, voicing astonishment. “Why, I can hardly see to the top.”

Suddenly Julia had the odd sensation of feeling as though she were in a park back East. She looked around her, half-expecting to see a dozen or more people using the “park” as a picnic area. But as she gazed around, she realized she was quite alone, and so she went about setting up camp.

“Indians have been here at some time,” Julia murmured aloud. It was easy to see, she realized, from the circle of stones they had left behind—the stones used, she knew, to hold the tepee down against storms and high winds. She moved around her new campsite, matting down the grasses and collecting up all the branches and small trees for firewood.

She would start a fire early, she decided, and eat a meal, leaving the evening free to indulge in a leisurely bath. She almost sighed contentedly. A bath would be heavenly.

In truth, the “park” was so nice, she thought about resting here for a few days, but she ruled out the idea almost as soon as she’d thought it. Indians had been here. Indians would be back. And she had no idea what tribes she could expect to find here.

Something caught in her peripheral vision and Julia quickly turned her head. She looked back toward the fire, smiling.

Ah,
she thought,
Just as I’d suspected. Neeheeowee trails me.

She’d just caught sight of his dark hair, blowing in the breeze.

Elation filled her and she sat back in relief. She had feared she’d never see him again. It was nice to know she’d been wrong.

 

Neeheeowee surveyed Julia from the confines of his own campsite. He was quite pleased with himself. So far today, he’d had no scrapes with wolves, nor snakes, nor even bears, and the scratches on his body were beginning to heal.

He’d also been able to leave Julia a good amount of food, including the tree ears, or tree mushrooms, which grew in such abundance here on the cottonwoods. He’d also left a buffalo calf lying at the side of her campsite, making it appear as though the animal had died from a struggle with wolves. Although this would fool no Indian, Neeheeowee knew Julia would hardly question it.

And so Neeheeowee relaxed, content merely to watch Julia with only half an eye cocked to her whereabouts.

He’d almost been asleep when it happened. One moment she’d been sitting quietly in camp, the next she’d gotten to her feet, walking slowly toward the river, shedding first her shoes, then her leggings, then her dress; up, up and over her hips, over her breasts, her head, until she stood in nothing save the chain of beads around her neck.

She turned around, so that she was facing him, then she stretched, leisurely, almost as if…Neeheeowee sat up at once. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that she flirted with him. But she couldn’t know that he was here…or did she?

He groaned. It didn’t matter if she knew he was there or not. He would not stay hidden very long, not when she looked like that.

He crept down toward the river, hoping to observe her a little more “close to hand.” She droned a song as she washed first her hair, scrubbing it with sand from the river bottom and then her face, her neck, her arms, her breasts, her…

Neeheeowee gazed all the harder, not needing his body’s reminder to tell him he found her attractive. She had finished her washing, and Neeheeowee thought she might leave the water at once. But she didn’t.

She flung a glance in his direction, then turned onto her back, floating in the water like some shimmering goddess, a patch of evening light following her as though it had nothing to do but watch over her. Neeheeowee groaned and shut his eyes, but he didn’t turn away. He couldn’t. And as he opened his eyes to catch her glimmering beauty, he knew he would not make it through the evening without going to her.

The game was up. He would have her tonight.

She stood now within the water, her hair flowing down her back in a cascade of wet curls, and Neeheeowee thought he would go insane with the wanting of her. His desire was worse now than it had been when they had first traveled together. He’d made love to her now. He knew the warmth of her response, the fleeting caress of her fingers. And he wanted her; oh, how he wanted her.

He would go to her now. He would tell her the truth, that he could not let her go, that if necessary he would take her captive, and he stood up out of his cover just as she gained her footing in the water.

That’s when he saw it. There in the trees. A movement. Something watched them—or someone.

Neeheeowee crouched back down, looking out toward Julia, who hadn’t yet become aware that danger lurked close by. What was it? Animal or man?

He caught a glimpse. A Comanche brave, he identified. He let his senses scour the surrounding area. How many were there and where were they? Neeheeowee waited, counting two, unmounted. Because of the Kiowa alliance, an uneasy truce existed between the Comanche and the Cheyenne, but Neeheeowee would not put it to the test. These men meant harm, and
he
would not allow it.

He waited. Let them make the first move. His would be a maneuver of surprise.

He didn’t have to wait long. Yelping and hollering both men stood at once, brandishing their arms and running down to the river toward Julia. Julia screamed, and, plunging down into the water, struck out toward the other shore.

War paint streaked from the Comanche’s faces and Neeheeowee read the symbolic slashes there in the black, snagged edges of the paint. He grimaced. These warriors were on a mission of revenge. Unless victorious, no one who met these men would live to tell of the encounter. It meant that if they caught her, Julia would die.

He watched them. He waited, until the men were at last within range of his bow and arrows. Neeheeowee stood up, screaming out his war cry and firing within seconds first one, another, another, and another arrow all in an arch calculated to hit the two Comanche. He’d sent up eight arrows into the sky before the first one even fell, hitting its mark without error.

One Comanche fell. One Comanche injured and running.

Neeheeowee charged, screaming, his lance held high. He paused just long enough to throw it, missing his opponent only because the Comanche, dumbfounded by Neeheeowee’s ferocity, ran away in the opposite direction as fast as he could. Neeheeowee shot another round of arrows into the air, the scream in the distance testifying to the accuracy of his aim.

Neeheeowee ran down to the first man, taking the warrior’s hair off as trophy before running off in the distance toward the other Comanche warrior, returning to Julia, two greasy, black scalps in his hand.

Julia still hugged the farther shore, her look at Neeheeowee more one of disbelief than pleasure.

“That’s disgusting,” she said in English, as though the crimes here in this camp were his, not the Comanche. Then she switched to Lakota. “How could you do this to me?”

Neeheeowee didn’t say a thing, not knowing to which of the things he had done she referred. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“You have followed me,” she said. “At first I was elated to find that you were with me, but now, I do not know. You have been with me all along, have you not?”

What else could he do? He nodded.

“You have tricked me. You have led me to believe I could survive out here on the prairie all alone, and I have not, have I? It is you who has been putting food in my path. It is you who threw firewood along my way as though such things were natural. It was you who slaughtered the buffalo calf. What was your intention? Did you think to play me the fool?”

He didn’t get a chance to defend himself, and, in truth, what could he say? He understood her reaction, her fear, her need to strike out at something after having experienced an attempt upon her life. But to Neeheeowee’s utter amazement, as he stood there, bewildered, wondering what to say, how to speak to her to make it better, she cried.

“I owe my life to you,” she whimpered between sobs. “What would I have done if you hadn’t been here? And yet you don’t want me as your wife and I do not know if I can…” He couldn’t understand the rest, for she now spoke in a tongue he could not comprehend.

Neeheeowee raised his eyes to look at the tall trees above him. And suddenly he knew what he would do.

Throwing down his weapons, his trophies, he advanced out into the water, toward her; there to take her in his arms and comfort her until the tears went away.

And when she hiccupped, “What has happened to you?” seeing all his scratches and bites, Neeheeowee merely smiled, shaking his head and picking her up to trudge back through the water to the other shore.

Chapter Thirteen

“By thuneder, did ye iver see such a sight?” Neeheeowee saw that Julia almost raised her head, but at the last moment, she stopped, focusing her gaze back toward, the ground as he had instructed her to do earlier. “What be it? Injuns?”

“I couldna rightly say. But if ye’re askin’ me, I’d say it most likely looks like fire.”

Other books

Prince of Storms by Kay Kenyon
Engaging Evelyn by Salaiz, Jennifer
Shadowboxer by Nicholas Pollotta
(Never) Again by Theresa Paolo
Valiant by Holly Black
Want to Know a Secret? by Sue Moorcroft
Hunting the Huntress by Ember Case
The Lioness by Mary Moriarty
If I Die by Rachel Vincent