Savage Hero (30 page)

She glanced over at Pure Heart, whose old eyes were filled with eagerness; she was going to be a grandmother for the second time in two years.

It made Mary Beth sad that Pure Heart's first grandchild had not been Brave Wolf's and Mary Beth's, nor even her second.

Mary Beth had not been able to conceive. It was hard for her to understand, because on her very wedding night with Lloyd, she had become pregnant.

She had always believed she never got pregnant again because of the scarcity of times they had shared in lovemaking.

But she had been with her beloved Brave Wolf every night since their marriage except for that time of month when she had her weeps, and no Indian husband even came near his wife at that time.

Mary Beth had finally grown used to spending that time of month in the village menstrual hut, where all women went and sewed or did other handiwork to pass those days and nights away from their husbands.

Yes, it just did not seem right that Mary Beth had not gotten pregnant after all those wondrous moments in her husband's arms. She could only conclude that it had to do with David not having been found, that she could not relax in the right way to become pregnant.

She didn't understand, nor could she change anything. She had learned to take the bad with the good and be content for the moment.

What would make her happiness complete was to have a child born of her and Brave Wolf's love. Although she hated to admit it, she had given up on ever seeing David again.

It had been too long now.

And after all the searches by not only Brave Wolf
and his warriors, but also his Crow allies, as well as Colonel Anderson's men, David had not been seen anywhere. Mary Beth had no choice but to accept that her son was lost to her forever.

Now if only she could get pregnant. Surely another child would fill that empty space in her heart left by David's absence.

Her thoughts returned to the present when Dancing Butterfly screamed and gripped the stakes. Mary Beth listened to Dancing Butterfly say many rapid words in the Crow tongue, smiling when she recognized them; she now knew their language as well as her own.

Dancing Butterfly had just said many unpleasant words to express her frustration over being in labor for so long and having nothing to show for it!

If it were Mary Beth, she would say a few choice words under those conditions, but they would soon be followed by a prayer. On the other hand, she would give anything to be having those labor pains.

Surely she would not be as impatient as Dancing Butterfly or speak such words of frustration. Mary Beth's frustration came from being childless.

Pure Heart sat beside Dancing Butterfly with a small vial that held a combination of ground roots and broth from a cooked horned toad.

“This will help your pain,” Pure Heart said as she slowly rubbed the liquid across Dancing Butterfly's swollen abdomen. “Close your eyes. Breathe in . . . breathe out. Soon you will make me a very proud grandmother again.”

“Both Night Horse and I are proud to give you another grandchild,” Dancing Butterfly said. She tossed her head back and forth and gritted her teeth when another pain slammed through her.

“There is one more thing I can do for you,” Pure Heart said. She reached over and grabbed a small jug. She held it to Dancing Butterfly's lips with one hand as she slowly lifted her head with the other. “Drink it slowly. This will hasten the birth.”

Dancing Butterfly swallowed the liquid in small sips. When she was finished, Pure Heart set the empty jug aside and moved to Dancing Butterfly's side. She held her tightly above her swollen abdomen. “Push,” she said, her eyes watching as Mary Beth moved closer to Dancing Butterfly's outspread legs. “Mary Beth, reach inside her. Help the child. Help the child now.”

Mary Beth blanched at the thought, but nodded weakly. When Dancing Butterfly screamed and gave another hard push, Mary Beth reached slightly inside her just as the head of the baby slid down into her hands.

Soon the child was in Mary Beth's arms, its first cries filling the small space of the hut.

Pure Heart came to her, her eyes shining with happy tears and waited for the afterbirth to slide free, which it did in a matter of seconds.

Pure Heart placed it in a wooden basin, then gazed at length at the child.

“It is a
wiyanna
, a girl child,” Pure Heart said, sighing as she slowly took the baby from Mary Beth and cradled it in her own arms.

“My granddaughter,” Pure Heart said as Mary Beth measured off three fingers on the wet unbilical cord and sliced it with a knife, cutting the navel cord.

Since the child was a girl, Mary Beth rolled the cord up in a piece of cloth and put it into a beaded sack that would be fastened to her cradleboard.

When the child was old enough to wear an elktooth dress, this bag would be tied to its back.

Mary Beth knew of the other procedures which followed childbirth. Two days from now, Dancing Butterfly would heat a steel awl and pierce her child's earlobes with it. She would then stick a greased stick through the perforations. When the wounds healed, tiny earrings would be inserted.

Four days after the child's birth, Dancing Butterfly would cover the baby's face with a sacred red paint and lift her four times while the village shaman, Many Clouds, held smoking bear root to the child's wincing eyes. Then he would name her.

Now that Mary Beth had completed the first chores, she was able to stop and take a longer look at the tiny thing in Pure Heart's arms. Dancing Butterfly leaned up on an elbow, finally free of pain, and her eyes were filled with love as she gazed at her newborn.

Ah, the child, Mary Beth marveled to herself. She was so pure and so beautiful, it made tears come to her eyes, for she had always wanted a daughter so that David would have a sister.

Now Mary Beth didn't have a son or a daughter, but she could, she
would
enjoy her best friend's
child to the fullest. She was anxious to see the newborn placed in the cradleboard that Mary Beth had made for her. She had lined it with beautiful white rabbit fur and decorated it with pretty beads for the baby to look at and play with.

She looked forward to helping feed the baby when she was old enough to be fed stew of boiled corn and crushed berries.

“She is so tiny,” Mary Beth said, reaching over to take one of her hands and marveling over how little the fingers were.

Her gaze shifted to the feet. She smiled at the tiny, curled-up toes.

Then she moved her eyes slowly over the naked baby, seeing her beautiful smooth copper skin, the darkness of her eyes as she peered up at her grandmother for the first time, and the shock of black hair on her head, almost enough already to braid!

When the baby smiled that first time, it was pure heaven for all who witnessed it.

“We must cleanse her and then give her to her mother for feeding,” Pure Heart said, slipping the child into Mary Beth's arms. She reached for a wooden basin of water that had been prepared what seemed to Mary Beth hours and hours ago. “Mary Beth, you hold her. I will wash her.”

Mary Beth didn't take her eyes off the child as she was washed. She smiled as Pure Heart wrapped the clean child in a soft doeskin blanket and placed her in her mother's waiting arms.

Mary Beth almost turned away as the child was placed at her mother's breast for the first time. It
was almost too much for Mary Beth as she recalled the first time her David had suckled from her own breast. At this moment, her longing for her son was twofold.

But she knew that she must get hold of herself. She wanted to be happy for Dancing Butterfly and Night Horse, not envious!

She watched as Pure Heart took a bowl to Dancing Butterfly. While the child suckled, Pure Heart helped Dancing Butterfly eat what was required of her after having just given birth to her child . . . a piece of broiled buffalo hump which had been dipped in fat. Dancing Butterfly would eat it just once. Then she would be made to abstain from any cooked meat for several days.

“And now it is time to get the proud
ahte
, the father,” Mary Beth said, crawling toward the small entranceway. The birthing hut was not tall enough for anyone to walk within it.

She hurried outside, where both Brave Wolf and Night Horse stood, their eyes anxious.

“I heard my baby's first cry,” Night Horse said, glancing from the entranceway to Mary Beth. “Tell me. Is it a
micinksi
, a son? Or a
wiyanna
, a daughter?”

“Your son has a sister, you have a beautiful daughter,” Mary Beth said.

She moved into Brave Wolf's arms as he reached out for her. She wished that she was telling him she had just given
him
a child. She was afraid that just possibly she might never be able to.

She embraced Brave Wolf, then turned and
stood at his side, his arm around her waist, as they both watched Night Horse go to the hut.

“She is truly the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen,” Mary Beth said as she smiled up at Brave Wolf. “One day I, too, will give you a child. I know it, Brave Wolf. I . . . just . . . know it.”

“You fret too much over it,” Brave Wolf said. He turned her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “My wife, my
sunshine
, do you not know that you are enough for me?”

“You are so wonderfully sweet to say that,” she murmured. “I do love you so much, Brave Wolf.”

“As I do you,” he said, then dropped his hands and took hers. “As soon as we give my brother time enough to see and hold his child, I want to go and hold my niece.”

“You will adore her,” Mary Beth said, smiling at the memory of the child's tiny sweetness.

“In four days she will be named,” Brave Wolf said thickly. “In four days . . .”

Mary Beth knew that although he tried to comfort her, he longed for a child as much as she did. It was in the way he gazed at the birthing hut, and in the way he talked about the child, and even in his anxiousness for her to be named. She
must
find a way to have a child for him.

If not, oh, what then?

Could he truly see her as enough forever?

She doubted it, for he was a proud chief, who would surely want to show off many children to his people. Otherwise, would he not look less virile in their eyes?

Yes, it did worry Mary Beth. How could it not?

It seemed that in the end, her marriage would depend on whether or not she was able to have a child.

And this maiden,
she lived with no other thought
than to love and be loved by me.

—Poe

It was spring, in the grass-growing moon, when everything was new and smelled sweetly of flowers.

It was a time of hope and love, as the women prepared packs of extra moccasins and pemmican for their husbands to take along on the hunt.

Two days ago Mary Beth had joined the women in singing farewell songs of encouragement to Brave Wolf and his warriors as they left the village on their prancing, magnificent steeds. Each warrior had carried his own choice of weapon, some bearing guns, others bows and arrows, and others spears.

It was wonderful to see the harmony of the Crow hunters who would bring home a bounty of meat, her husband in the lead.

Mary Beth had just returned from the river with Dancing Butterfly and the other women, their baskets and pots filled with fresh water.

Mary Beth inhaled deeply and smelled the savory smoke of elk meat being roasted over a large outdoor fire. The meat had come from an earlier, briefer hunt three days ago. Each husband had brought home a supply of fresh meat to sustain his family during the long hunt.

She stood with Dancing Butterfly, watching Little Horse playing with a group of other four-year-olds.

All Crow boys, even as young as four, were subjected to vigorous training in running, swimming, wrestling, archery, racing, hunting, and riding. But on this early morning, they were enjoying a time of play and camaraderie. Some splashed in the stream, laughing, while others played tag.

“My son grows more and more into his father's image,” Dancing Butterfly said, pride in both her eyes and voice. She turned and looked toward her tepee, then smiled at Mary Beth. “Night Horse tells me our newborn daughter is in
my
image.” She laughed softly. “Of course he would say that, even knowing she is too young to look like anyone but herself.”

“Yes, she is only two weeks old,” Mary Beth said, as she looked at Dancing Butterfly. “You have two daughters and one son, yet your body shows no
signs of ever having had any children. It is as voluptuous as it was before you had children.”

“It will be the same for you,” Dancing Butterfly said, then sucked in a quick breath and paled. “I am sorry. What I said made it sound as though you have not had a child, yet you have. How could I forget about your son David? How could I be so insensitive?”

“Many have forgotten about him,” Mary Beth said, sighing. “I never shall, though. Never, never.”

Then Mary Beth gave Dancing Butterfly a warm hug. “And do not feel bad about what you said,” she murmured. “I know what you meant.”

She stepped away from Dancing Butterfly and gazed down at her own flat belly. She placed her hands on it. “Soon, ah, soon, all will know that at long last their chief's wife is with child,” she said excitedly. “For too many moons now I have seen our people's eyes watching me, filled with disappointment and sadness as they gaze at my stomach. They wish for a son in their chief's image, one that can one day be as great a leader as his
ahte
, his father. I have felt so,
so
inadequate because of those looks.”

“I am sorry you have felt that way,” Dancing Butterfly murmured. “Had our people known how they were making you feel, they would feel bad, too, for they love you, Mary Beth. Everyone loves you.”

“And I love them,” Mary Beth said, turning to go back to her lodge.