Savage Hero (29 page)

“She is a caring, understanding woman,” Brave Wolf said, reaching over to stroke the cat's soft fur. “She would not want the cat to stay with her if the animal prefers you. She would want the cat to be happy.”

He ran his hand gently over the cat's tummy. “And there soon will be kittens,” he said, smiling. “Mother can have her choice of . . . how did you call them?”

“The
litter
,” Mary Beth said, still stroking the beautiful animal. “Pure Heart can have her pick of the litter. Perhaps she can take more than one if that is her preference.”

“Then that should settle it,” Brave Wolf said. “That should make her happy enough.”

“How do I tell her?” Mary Beth said.

“I shall go and explain it to her,” Brave Wolf said.

“I truly hope she won't be too sad over this,” Mary Beth said. “Yesterday she was so brave and courageous about accepting her loss all over again. She was even a part of our wedding ceremony, though I know that she was hurting deep inside herself.”

“My brother knew that it was best for him to leave, yet I regret the hurts he caused all over again,” Brave Wolf said, combing his fingers through his hair to straighten out its morning tangles. “My mother is not doing as well as Dancing Butterfly. She carries her hurts more deeply. I understood why she went back to the privacy of her lodge immediately after our wedding vows were
spoken. Did you understand, as well?”

“Yes, very much so,” Mary Beth said, sighing. “She has lost her son again. I lost mine only once. I would hate to think of the heartbreak if I had him back and then he suddenly disappeared again. As it is, both your mother and I carry empty spaces inside our hearts over such grievous losses.”

“Brother?”

The voice brought both Mary Beth and Brave Wolf quickly to their feet. Mary Beth clung to the cat as she hurried to the entrance flap beside Brave Wolf.

Her eyes widened when she saw Night Horse standing there, and not alone!

She recognized the man who was tied up and whose eye was swollen shut and bloody.

“Blackjack Tom,” Mary Beth gasped out, stunned.

“Night Horse, who is this?” Brave Wolf asked, stepping out of the tepee with Mary Beth beside him.

“My brother, when I left yesterday, I planned to stay away, but I could not,” Night Horse said, his voice full of emotion. “I kept thinking about the hurts that I was again leaving behind. Yet I saw the strain I put on everybody when the soldiers came. Had they known I was here, things would have been different. The soldiers might not have helped you, but instead seen you as an enemy because you were harboring a man they now suspect. I thought everyone would be better off without me, but my heart would not allow me to stay away.
My woman . . . my mother . . . my brother . . . my
people
seemed to call to me. I had to return. I shall face all questions, either from whites or my brethren, and pay whatever price I must pay, but I am tired of causing hurts by disappearing.”

He gave Blackjack Tom a shove, causing him to fall on his knees.

The man with the beady black eyes looked humbly up at Night Horse, then lowered his eyes to the ground.

“This man, whom I know as Blackjack Tom from my acquaintance with the white pony soldiers, was lurking directly behind your lodge, my brother,” Night Horse said venomously. “He had a knife. Had I not come along when I did, I believe he would have entered your lodge from the back by slicing his way through the skins. I did not know why he would do this, or whom he planned to kill, until I forced answers from him.”

“And what did he say?” Mary Beth asked, her voice breaking, for in her mind's eye she was reliving that night all over again, how the dark shadow of the man loomed over her as his hands tightened around her throat!

“He said nothing at first, but when I placed his own knife at his throat, he spoke loudly and clearly of wanting to kill you, Mary Beth, and then my brother Brave Wolf,” Night Horse said, his voice tight. “When I heard his plan, I could not help hitting him.”

“After I gave him information, he shouldn't have hit me,” Blackjack Tom whined.

“He should have done worse than that,” Mary Beth said angrily. “You are a filthy, cold-hearted man. You are a coward, for only a coward would enter a woman's room at night with plans to kill her. I am so glad that Night Horse found you. I hope you hang.”

She looked at Brave Wolf. “You
will
take him to Fort Hope, won't you?” Mary Beth asked softly. “Colonel Anderson will see to it that he gets what he deserves. I . . . I . . . don't think you should take on the responsibility of doing anything, yourself. If word spread that you did something to a white soldier, even though he deserted his post and is wanted by all of the United States cavalry, the government would not take kindly to your handing down his punishment.”

“I do plan to take him to Colonel Anderson,” Brave Wolf said thickly. “And he will want to know how Blackjack Tom was captured. Night Horse, what shall I say? You are still in danger of being hunted by the white pony soldiers, for they will want to question you about your role in Yellow Hair's defeat.”

“I thought all of that through and I believe it is my duty to go and tell everything to Colonel Anderson,” Night Horse said, his chin lifted proudly. “I know that you think Colonel Anderson is a good, wise man. I will take the chance that he will believe my story, and if he does, I will be free to return to my people, if they still want me.”

“You are wanted, my son, by all who know you and have always loved you,” Pure Heart said as she
came shakily toward Night Horse. “I heard your voice, my son. At first I thought your voice was coming to me in a dream. When I fully awakened and looked outside and saw you, I knew that my prayers to the First Maker had been answered.”

She flung herself into Night Horse's arms. “My son, my son, please do not leave me ever again,” she sobbed out. “It gets harder each time. I felt as though my life was slipping away when I saw you were gone again.”

“
Ina
, I am sorry that I caused you pain again,” Night Horse said, gently stroking her thin, old back through her doeskin robe. “I have returned, but I must leave again to speak with Colonel Anderson as I deliver the captive to him. If Colonel Anderson believes me when I say that I had nothing to do with the attack on General Custer, and he tells me I am a free man, I will come home again. This time I will stay. I want to join the next hunt and bring much meat home for your plate. I want to be there for you always, Mother.”

He looked over his mother's shoulder at Brave Wolf. “I want to ride side by side with you on the hunt, to challenge you in games again, as we did when we were young brave,” he said earnestly. “My brother, I want to be everything to you.”

“Night Horse, oh, is that truly you, Night Horse?” Dancing Butterfly cried as she came running toward him.

Pure Heart stepped aside just as Dancing Butterfly reached Night Horse, tears flowing from her eyes when she saw her son reach out for the
woman he had loved since they were children.

“I am sorry that I hurt you again,” he said, holding her tightly. “I am here to stay, if the soldiers will allow my freedom.”

“They will, oh, my love, they will,” Dancing Butterfly sobbed as she clung to him.

Brave Wolf bent down, grabbed Blackjack Tom by an arm, and yanked him to his feet. “Your days of killing and maiming are over,” he growled out. “Your days of accosting women in the dark are over. I will see to it that you are taken in chains to be confined in the guardhouse at Fort Hope. You will never be able to touch my wife again.”

“Your wife?” Blackjack Tom gasped out, paling as he looked quickly at Mary Beth. He glowered. “I was right to try and kill you. You
are
an Injun lover. You . . . you . . . actually married one.” He spat at her feet. “You whore.”

Mary Beth gasped and took a shaky step away from him, then flinched when Brave Wolf slapped him hard across the face, causing his neck to make a strange snapping sound.

Mary Beth gazed disbelievingly as Blackjack Tom's head hung limply, his chin touching his chest as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

“Is . . . he . . . dead?” she gasped out.

“No, but he will be unconscious for a while, which is good since he has many miles to travel before Night Horse hands him over to Colonel Anderson for incarceration,” Brave Wolf said. He turned to Night Horse. “I will tie him more
securely, in case he does awaken. Then, my brother, you should take time to eat before heading out for Fort Hope.”

“I shall fix food for him,” Dancing Butterfly said. She glanced quickly at Pure Heart, who she knew would want to spend those moments with her son in case he was not allowed to return to his home again.

“Pure Heart, I shall fix breakfast for you and Night Horse,” Dancing Butterfly murmured, smiling. “Go and be with your son alone. I shall join you soon with the food.”

Pure Heart smiled broadly, locked an arm through Night Horse's, and walked away with him. She stopped and looked inquiringly at Mary Beth when she saw the cat in her arms.

“She came to me this morning,” Mary Beth said. She held the cat out to Pure Heart.

Pure Heart didn't take the cat. “The cat has never looked as content in my arms as she does in yours. If you wish to have her as yours, I understand,” she murmured. Then she smiled. “And I soon will have Night Horse to fill the empty spaces in my heart with his smile and laughter. I do not need the animal.”

Mary Beth heard the hope in Pure Heart's voice. She prayed that Night Horse would be allowed to return to the village.

“Then I shall keep her,” Mary Beth murmured. She ran a slow hand over the cat's tummy. “But if you wish, you can have a kitten very soon to call your own.”

“I would like that,” Pure Heart said, smiling radiantly.

She turned her eyes down to the unconscious man. “He may be a bad man, but he might just be the reason for my son to be set free,” she said. “If Night Horse is seen as the one who is responsible for capturing the man that the pony soldiers are looking for, might not they reward him by allowing him his freedom?”

“I would hope so,” Mary Beth said, giving Brave Wolf a questioning look.

“Yes, I, too, would hope so,” he said. “I do hope that my brother is given his freedom and allowed a fresh start with his life, for I believe he deserves it. By capturing Blackjack Tom and saving us from what might have been a quick death, Night Horse has redeemed himself. He deserves a second chance.”

Mary Beth gazed down at Blackjack Tom, again reliving what he had done to her. “Not everyone deserves a second chance,” she said, shuddering. “This man . . . this Blackjack Tom . . . doesn't!”

Is it, in Heav'n a crime,
to love too well?
To bear too tender or too
firm a heart?

—Alexander Pope

It was the last cicada-shell moon of old summer and the second leaf-falling season at the Crow village for Mary Beth. She was now the happy, proud wife of the chief of the Whistling Water Clan. She knew this was the season when new tepee poles were cut and the women busied themselves making certain their lodge skins were renewed and whitened.

Mother Earth's bounty had provided a rich harvest again this year. The Crow people had plenty of geese, ducks, sage hens, deer, and antelope.
Much game had been brought into camp and smoked, as well as fish from the nearby river. In the plum thickets and blueberry bushes, there had been plenty of sweetness.

The Crow people had worked hard to prepare for Mother Earth's change of dress, when the hungry moon of winter would shine down on the breathless nights, when bears slept and the small buffalo herds would be pawing through the snow for grass after the downy snow fell from the sky.

Soon Mary Beth would wear a long robe of the softest, whitest doeskin which she had proudly sewn for herself.

But today, when the air smelled of the delicious scents of autumn, reminding Mary Beth of all of her autumns in Kentucky, she was not overseeing the making of new tepee poles, nor was she concerned about making certain their lodge skins were readied for the long months of winter which lay just ahead of them.

She was with Dancing Butterfly, acting as midwife with Pure Heart, as her friend readied herself for the second child that would soon be born to her and Night Horse.

Night Horse, who had not been arrested by the United States Government, who was free to live his life now with his Crow people and wife, could not even be near the birthing lodge. Dancing Butterfly moaned and groaned in heavy labor in the lodge, which was set far back from the others of the village. It had been built of bent willow branches and was to be used only for the birthing of this one
child; then it would be dismantled, its willow branches never to be be used again for anything.

“I wish my husband could be with me,” Dancing Butterfly said, grabbing at her huge belly when another sharp pain caused her to bear down. “My husband. Oh, my husband. Why cannot he be here with me? I wish so badly to be held by him.”

“This is your second child. You know the custom, Dancing Butterfly,” Pure Heart said as she bent to her knees and planted one stake into the ground at one corner of Dancing Butterfly's pillow. Mary Beth knelt at the other corner and hammered the second stake there.

“Hurry, oh, please hurry,” Dancing Butterfly said as she tossed her head from side to side, her sweatwettened hair spraying moisture with each toss. “I feel it is time. I . . . feel . . . it. I know that the baby's head is coming down. Soon. Oh, soon my child will be in my arms.”

“The stakes are planted,” Pure Heart said, settling down at the foot of the bed of pelts beside Mary Beth, who would assist in the childbirth in any way she could.

Mary Beth was proud to have been chosen as one of Dancing Butterfly's midwives. It proved just how close their bonds were as friends.