White Dreams (5 page)

White Dove jumped to her feet, her frown of worry gone. “I will make ready.”

Striking Thunder and Golden Eagle frowned again. “Make ready for what?” Star’s father demanded.

White Wind lifted a pale brow. Her lips curved with wry amusement. “Does my husband truly need to ask?”

The once-great chieftain let his shoulders slump. There was little use in arguing once these women of his clan made up their minds. “There is no need for us all to ride out. I would have my wife remain here to await her husband’s return.” He folded his arms across his chest.

Star’s mother just smiled sweetly. “Yes, dear, I’m sure you would.” She grabbed a plain leather pouch hanging from a nail in one of the poles of the tipi while White Dove grabbed up an empty water pouch and her weapons. Both women exited the tipi. Then White Wind stuck her head back inside. “Are you coming, daughter? We must make sure you and the girls have all you need for your long journey.”

Star hurried out, smiling with relief. Not only was she going, but her mother and sister would see her off. Her heart lifted at the thought. She’d miss them. A fresh wave of tears obscured her sight.

Emma rushed after them. “Wait for me! If you are all going, then I’m coming as well.” Behind her, Striking Thunder called out. Emma hesitated.

Star laughed and grabbed Emma’s hand. “Come then, sister. My brother will cease his bellowing soon enough. We women stick together and our men understand, even if they do feel they must protest.”

At her words, the bellowing ceased.

Grady surveyed the large group of soldiers and Indians assembled on horseback before him. They had finished their preparations in less than an hour. A cold breeze found its way past his woolen scarf and down the back of his neck, making him shiver. Pulling up his lined collar, he readjusted the scarf, then shifted his mount so the gust blew against his back.

Now that everything was loaded, he was eager to leave. His trained eye roamed over the group of waiting warriors, then shifted to the women, huddled around Star as she hugged her son and said her goodbyes.

He shifted, impatient. He blamed the adverse weather conditions for his mood, but if he was honest, he’d admit his eagerness to be gone was in part due to his fear that Star Dreamer might change her mind and not accompany him and Renny to St. Louis. Watching her with her son, he felt selfish for taking her. But he needed her—for his daughter’s sake.

Two scouts with identical matted gray beards and long, stringy hair hanging past their shoulders rode up to him. The buckskin breeches, shirts and coats they wore had seen better days.

The one named Zeb removed his dirt-encrusted hat and scratched his ear. “They’s all comin’?” He indicated the group of Indian women mounting their horses.

Next to him, his twin brother, Zac, copied the motion. “The whole durn family?” Zac made a face, which caused his dark, leathery skin to pucker and wrinkle his wrinkles. Two sets of deep brown eyes waited for their commanding officer’s answer.

Grady’s lips twitched. “Should be an interesting journey back to the fort,” he commented, shifting his mount slightly to the left. The two men before him were trappers. And though they looked as old as the hills—and smelled as if it had been at least a decade since they had last bathed—they were the best to be found. Grady didn’t complain; he just tried to stay downwind.

“Ain’t never seen a squaw with bow and arrows,” Zeb muttered, eyeing White Dove warily. The brothers each pulled a large silver crucifix from beneath his shirt and kissed it.

“We’s gonna head out, check the lay of the land.” At their colonel’s nod, they rode off, muttering in low tones.

Anxious to leave, Grady nudged his own horse forward. As he neared the women, he hesitated. Star Dreamer was still on her knees, talking softly to Running Elk and running her fingers through his jet-black hair while tears streamed down her cheeks. He frowned. How could a mother leave her child like this?

How could a father abandon his children?

Grady felt guilt wash over him. He’d left his girls, much as Star was leaving her son. Though she planned to return, so had he. But once gone, it had been easier to stay away. Less painful. Somehow, he’d managed to convince himself he was doing what was best, that Emma and Renny hadn’t needed him.

His discomfort grew at the thought of helping Star Dreamer to leave her people and son. But deep down, her desperation as they’d walked along the river had ensnared him. She’d looked so distraught, so vulnerable, he’d have done anything to ease the haunted look in her eyes and bring a smile to her lips—something he’d not seen very often. The young woman was far too sad. She deserved laughter and happiness. Maybe because he would help her, she would find it, or at least find peace within herself.

But now the weight of responsibility for her well-being rested squarely on his shoulders, and he knew he could not allow her to repeat his own mistake. He would bring her back at the end of summer, back to her people, back to her son, where she belonged, as her father and brother had asked.

His gaze strayed from the woman to his own child. Renny sat atop one of the horses she had been given, with Morning Moon perched on the other. His lips tightened at the memory of his daughter defiantly informing him that the two animals belonged to her and that she was taking them to St. Louis.

She hadn’t asked, had even assumed he’d refuse to allow her to bring her horses, and it hurt to know she regarded him as an unfeeling monster—despite the fact that she had every right to be distrustful of him. It was still painful to bear. And for that reason, no matter how cowardly it made him feel, he was grateful that he wouldn’t have to be alone with her for the next six months. Renny felt the same, he was sure. If Star Dreamer and Morning Moon weren’t going with him, he’d have had to drag the child away kicking and screaming.

Fighting his impatience to head out, Grady rode over to his oldest daughter and eyed her with a worried parental eye. “Are you sure you should be riding?”

Emma leaned forward and placed her hand on his arm. “The babe is fine, Father. There’s no need to worry.”

He sucked in a deep breath, then stared out over her head, sudden guilt making him unable to meet her eyes. “I know I don’t have the right to worry, Emma. I’m sorry.”

Her voice turned tender. “Father, we’ve been through this. I’ve forgiven you. Let the past go.”

Grady closed his eyes, grateful. Her forgiveness for leaving them so young was something he’d never feel he’d truly earned. He gave a small smile and looked over at his youngest daughter, who was giggling with Morning Moon over something. Would she ever come to love and accept him? Would she ever forgive him? Turning back to see Emma gazing at him worriedly, he reached out and caressed one cold cheek. “I love you, Emma. I always have.”

His daughter’s gaze strayed to Striking Thunder; her husband was heading toward them. “I know, Father. Now that I have a husband whom I love dearly, I understand the way you felt when our mother died. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.”

“You’ve been blessed, Emma. Not everyone finds true love.”

“I know, Father. I know.” Her voice softened.

“I will take good care of your daughter,” Striking Thunder assured him, making it obvious he’d overheard them.

The Sioux chieftain reached out to trail his fingers down his wife’s cheek. The tenderness the big, fierce-looking warrior wasn’t afraid to show brought forth painful memories. Grady remembered how it had felt to do the same to Emma’s mother and see her soft answering smile, that secret longing in her eyes that made his blood flow faster.

“If I didn’t believe that, I would not have permitted the marriage.” Grady stared at his son-in-law as he spoke, and he could see that his words had been understood. He glanced over his shoulder, then, as he heard shouts of farewell. Star had finally mounted. They were ready to head out. The Indian woman rode past, sitting tall and proud, flanked by her mother and sister.

Grady lifted his hand and gave his men the command to head out. He watched the unit fall into formation, then sought Star’s figure on horseback.

The Sioux beauty knew the pain of losing a loved one. That alone—the shared anguish of loss—made him feel uncannily close to her. And now she was being forced to leave behind her child too.

The thought made Grady remember his own leave-taking, the sight of his eldest daughter standing on the porch crying as he rode away. But Emma had since forgiven him. Perhaps Star Dreamer would find a similar reprieve at the end of her travels. And as for now, she would be with him for six months.

St. Louis, Missouri

“
Je désire faire la cour a toi, Madame
Olsen.”

I want to make love to you.
The soft, cultured voice simmered with unspent passion and sent shivers of anticipation skirting along the length of Hester Mae Olsen’s spine. Her hand fluttered to the brooch pinned at her throat—a gift from her lover. Suppressing her moan of frustration that they were in public, she patted the tight bun at the nape of her neck, making sure none of her dark, auburn tresses had become loosened.

Unable to publicly acknowledge the man deliberately standing so close behind her that she felt the press of his lean thighs against her backside, she handed over her basket of fruits and vegetables. Around them, people crowded and shoved, pressing them together. The heat of her lover, along with that of the other customers, surrounded her and intensified the womanly urges raging through her body. Overwhelmed by the furious longing welling inside her, Hester Mae reminded herself that she was forty, not some love-struck young fool. She tried to move forward to put distance between them.

A low chuckle confirmed that Leodegrance Dufour was well aware of what the intimate contact did to her. There came another naughty suggestion whispered in her ear, and his breath teased the nape of her neck. Hester Mae struggled to remain impassive as she waited for the vegetable peddler to add up her purchases.

After paying the greasy-haired woman for the produce, she exited the stall and merged into the flow of humanity moving from one stall to the next in the Soulard Market.

“You want me, no?”

Leo’s voice, velvet and silk trimmed with a wonderful French accent, left Hester Mae weak-kneed and on fire with need. She glanced over her shoulder and up to meet his gaze; their eyes were nearly at the same level as she was as tall as most men. Leo’s height as well as his dark good looks were just two things that endeared him to her. She met the wicked lust in his eyes with her own hungry gaze. Oh, yes, she wanted Leo—badly—but it wouldn’t do to let him know just how he affected her. “Mr. Dufour, we are in public.” She rebuked him, quickening her steps.

“Ah, but everyone is too busy to notice us,
ma chérie.
” Leo deliberately closed the distance between them so he could reach down and squeeze her buttocks unnoticed.

Gasping at his boldness even as it excited her, Hester Mae said, “Mr. Dufour, I must insist—”

“Oh, yes,
ma chérie,
do insist.” His smile turned seductive as he bent his head to whisper another idea in her ear.

Her heart raced, but only the tremor in her voice betrayed her growing desire. Her lapse was short-lived, though. She sobered when she caught strangers staring at them. “Leo, you are taking a terrible risk. If anyone sees us together, they will tell Baxter.” As much as she longed to be with Leo, she couldn’t risk angering her husband. The man controlled her purse strings—and he was stingy enough as it was.

A couple in front of her stopped, forcing her to take a different route through the milling crowd. To her dismay, she spotted Irma Hamburg, the city’s biggest gossip, coming toward her. “Oh, no,” she groaned. She darted into a stall, slipping past two gossiping women to hide. She ignored their gasps at her rudeness as she pretended to peruse the vendor’s selection of pastries and sweets.

From the corner of her eye, Hester Mae watched the matronly Irma pass by. In a moment, the woman had waylaid some other poor, hapless sop. Sighing with relief at the close call, Hester Mae merged back into the crowd and searched for Leo.

When she found him, he winked at her. She shivered, her body again beginning to spark with lust. Having the man she loved so close yet so far away was sheer torture. If only Baxter would hurry up and die!

Twenty years her senior, she’d never thought the old bastard would live to see fifty, let alone sixty. It had even begun to worry her, for he showed no sign of taking to his deathbed any time soon. The thought depressed her. She was tired of being tied to a man old enough to be her father. If only they’d had children, perhaps her life would have some purpose, but the old goat had failed to produce any in their past endeavors.

As usual, the thought of children brought her beloved nieces to mind. They were all she had in the world, really, and she hadn’t heard from them since they’d set off on that crazy search for her brother-in-law. What had the girls been thinking to go off alone like that? Her lips tightened. When Emma returned, she planned to have a few words with her eldest niece for taking off on a wild goose chase.

Imagine! The girl hadn’t even bothered to inform her own aunt what she’d planned on doing. Hester Mae had learned of Emma’s plan to find her father when she’d gone to the house to visit them and found it empty. In the time since, there’d been no word from either Emma or Colonel O’Brien. She’d dutifully made sure the house was maintained. It was the least she could do.

Fearing for the safety of the beloved girls, she had gone down to the wharf each day to see if anyone traveling up or down the Missouri knew of her nieces’ whereabouts. So far, no one had seen or heard anything. She felt herself grow tense. If anything happened to those girls, she didn’t know what she’d do. She’d already lost her parents, and Margaret Mary, her sister. She couldn’t lose Margaret Mary’s precious daughters.

Forgetting about the danger of talking to Leo in public, she turned to him and asked, “Has there been any news about Emma and Renny?” Leo was employed by her husband to oversee his shipping business, based in St. Louis, and he had promised to see if he could find out what had happened to her nieces. He had many contacts and important connections.

Leo shook his head sadly and adjusted his hat. “
Non.
But you must not fret,
ma chérie,
I am sure they are safely reunited with their papa.”

Hester Mae sighed, as much from his reassurances as his endearments. No one had ever before made her feel beautiful or cherished. Leo did both, though she knew she wasn’t attractive. Too tall and thin, she’d been so ever since she had been a young girl. Even calling her a plain child would be kind, unlike her tiny, petite sister, whose beauty had drawn the attention of all. “Thank you, Leo. You are so kind. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Leo took her gloved hand in his and kissed her curled fingers, ignoring her gasp of protest. “
Non.
I am not kind. I am in love.” He sighed dramatically when she snatched her hand away.

“I have to go.” She turned sly, hungry eyes back to him. “Baxter left this morning for another trip south. You will come tonight?”

Leo smiled, his eyes hooded. “Of course,
ma chérie.
I would not dream of missing such an important day as your birthday. But alas, I will not be there until quite late. Business, you understand. I have an important shipment I must see to. Wait up for me. I have a very special gift for you.”

“You remembered!”

“Ah, you wound me, Hester Mae. How could I forget?”

She preened under his adoring gaze, thrilled that he’d remembered her birthday. Baxter, damn his miserable, sagging hide, was as soft as the bark on a tree. He’d never understood her feminine heart, or desires. From him, she’d received a dozen plain linen hankies with her initials embroidered in one corner.

But Leo understood, and he was generous where her husband was stingy. She eagerly looked forward to the expensive gift with which he was sure to present her. “I’ll be waiting, Leo. Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she breathed, touching the brooch at her neck. As she moved past him, she boldly brushed her fingers along the front of his pants, sure the movement would be hidden by the crush of people and their closeness.

The smile faded from Leodegrance’s features the moment Hester Mae disappeared into the crowd. His expression changed from one of lust to annoyance. That woman’s nieces would never come home. He’d learned from one of the captains who piloted a paddleboat up and down the Missouri that the colonel’s daughters had been captured by Indians, and the colonel himself had spent months searching for them.

His reason for keeping that information to himself was purely selfish. He had plans for Hester Mae Olsen. Many plans.

Spring was Star’s favorite season. It brought the return of warm sunshine, bright blue skies and gentle breezes carrying the scent of new grass and blooming wildflowers. Seated on a blanket beneath a tree, the stream’s gurgling mingled with birdsong in the treetops. Grazing across the green land, herds of elk and antelope wandered. In the distance, she spotted a large dark mass—a herd of buffalo.

Across the stream a safe distance away, several does kept their wobbly-legged young close, ready to bolt for safety should the humans pose a threat. A flash of brown to Star’s right caught her gaze as a rabbit and her young darted through the grass and down a hole. The land teemed with life.

With the harsh winter behind them—the storm that had been brewing as they’d made ready for this journey had miraculously passed without unleashing its fury—and the hard work of summer yet to come, now was the time for her people to reflect, rebuild and to make plans for the future. They would embrace this day. Embrace life. Bear witness to the miracle of rebirth, how nature took what appeared dead and desolate and brought it back to life. The sight gave Star a sense of hope, of new beginnings for all—including herself.

Leaning her head back against the rough bark of the cottonwood, Star smiled at the sight of her strong, fierce-looking brother hovering over Emma. His wife was drinking from the stream a few feet away. That was another new beginning; her brother embarked on marriage and parenthood. She noted the gentle swell of Emma’s stomach and smiled secretly as she watched Striking Thunder lead his pregnant wife to a blanket spread out not far from where Star sat. Star suspected the frequent stops both the colonel and her brother ordered were more to make sure Emma didn’t over-tire herself than to rest the horses.

A harsh chattering from above drew her attention upward. Bits of bark and leaves showered down on her. Peering at her from a thick bough of the tree, a bushy-tailed squirrel scolded her in protest. Star’s smile faded. If Running Elk were here, he’d have drawn his bow and arrow and tried to shoot the small animal. Thinking about her son, guilt, worry and uncertainty swept through her. She missed him desperately. If she felt this way now, after just a few days, how would she make it for six months?

Once more, niggling doubts assailed her. Had she made the right decision with regard to Running Elk? For the first time since losing her husband, she realized just how difficult it was to be an only parent. All decisions rested on her shoulders, which right now felt far too fragile to bear the weight. She sighed, closing her eyes as she prayed for the Spirits to watch over her son. If anything happened to him while she was gone, she’d never forgive herself.

Breaking her out of her reverie, White Wind, White Dove and the two little girls suddenly plopped down next to her. Star welcomed the distraction of Renny’s chatter.

“What are these called again?” the child asked, touching a small purplish flower blooming among the bright green grass.

“
Hokshichekpa wahcha,
or twin flower,” Star answered. “It is the earliest bloomer each spring.” She leaned forward and separated one plant from the others. “See how most bear only two flowering scapes? When the head ripens, it turns white and bushy, like the head of an old wise man.”

“I wish we were going to be here to see them turn white.” Renny lay on her stomach and checked the hairy plants around her to see if all of them were twins.

Star reached out to reverently cup one small purple flower. “There is a song our children sing when they see the twin flowers blooming across the
maka.
”

“Really? Will you sing it for me?”

Smiling, Star nodded. “Let me see if I can think of the English way to express our words.” After a moment, she began:

After listening once through, Renny and Morning Moon sang the song several more times, with the adults indulgently joining in.

When the girls fell silent, Star turned to Emma. The woman had come over when Striking Thunder left to see to the horses. “Tell me more of your house in the city.”

“Let me, Em,” Renny interrupted. At her sister’s nod, the child raised herself up on her knees and held her arms stretched out to her sides. “We live in a big house and it has lots and lots of rooms.” She ticked off the rooms on her fingers: “A den, sitting room, my mother’s parlor, kitchen, dining room, morning room, bedrooms, cellar, attic—”

Star’s jaw dropped. How could a dwelling have so many chambers? “It cannot be so big,” she interrupted.

Emma chuckled. “I’m afraid Renny is not exaggerating. It is a big house, three stories tall.”

After explaining the purpose of each room, Renny dropped onto her hands and leaned forward to whisper, “I’m not allowed to go into my mother’s parlor—” her grin turned conspiratorial “—but I sneak in there anyway. That’s where my mother’s portrait hangs, and sometimes I went in there just so I could look at her.” She sounded wistful.

Emma reached over and hugged her sister.

Star frowned. “Why would you not be allowed in the—parlor?”

Renny stuck a blade of grass in her mouth and giggled. “’Cause I might break something. You’re not supposed to run in the house, but sometimes I forget.”

At the sound of Emma clearing her throat, Renny shrugged. “Okay, I forget a lot.”

Emma rolled her eyes and Star chuckled. How could anyone even hope to contain the energetic child in such a fashion?

“You’ll like our house, Star,” Renny said.

Despite her uncertainty of the future, Star looked forward to seeing the house where Emma had once lived. But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t imagine living in a house with many rooms larger than her entire tipi. Nor could she picture a whole floor of rooms above her head let alone two floors! The only wood house Star had even set foot inside was the small cabin that had once belonged to her mother before she’d married Golden Eagle.