Charlie's Choice

by Zina Abbott

  “See how she leads her father? I told you she is spoiled.”

  Charlie jerked his elbow back and jabbed Eyes-like-hawk in his stomach. He twisted his head to speak over his shoulder and kept his voice low enough to not be overheard. “You are not helping, Cousin. As long as I can win her, I do not care.”

  “We will see if you say the same when she uses her stubbornness to get her way with you.”

  A surge of satisfaction lifted Charlie’s spirits as his second elbow jab to his cousin’s gut prompted a grunt. “Silence. They return.”

  ~o0o~

  Inside the lodge, Spotted Horse turned to Meadowlark. “Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder is only half Kansa. Everyone knows my stand on only allowing my children to marry full-bloods of our people. He may have proven himself as a warrior this year, but he spent too long among the white Americans. His uncle lives in the camp near many half-breeds, some who wish to live the white man’s way. I do not trust him to not turn his back on the Kansa if our problems with the American chiefs continue to worsen.”

  “I trust him to stay, Father.”

  “What about Broken Wing? He also wants you for a wife.”

  Hoping the gossip Chases Quail had shared with her on the way back from the buffalo hunt was true, Meadowlark chose her words carefully. “Broken Wing has not spoken of me to you for many moons, Father. It is said now Red Quill no longer walks this earth, Sun-in-shell is much happier being the wife of Broken Wing, especially since she now carries his child. He is satisfied with her and no longer seeks another wife.”

  Spotted Horse grunted. “You mean Chases Quail has been busy meddling again.” He paused as he considered what Meadowlark told him. “Perhaps what you say about Broken Wing is true. Still, I do not trust Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder to stay among us.”

  “He is the man I choose to call husband, Father. I want no other.”

  ~o0o~

  Charlie stood tall and faced Spotted Horse as the man again stepped outside his lodge. This time, he noticed, Meadowlark, standing with her side facing him, stayed just inside the open door where she could hear. Charlie focused on her father.

  Spotted Horse folded his arms and lifted his chin as he glared at Charlie.

  “It is said you returned from the raid with three horses, not two. You gave your uncle a horse when you first came, and now you have given him another. You also give me only two horses.”

  Charlie suppressed the dismay he felt. How much had Spotted Horse heard spoken across the tribe? What Charlie wished to do with the third pony might not be traditional, and, therefore not acceptable to the man standing before him. He knew there was one way to find out. “The third horse is not for my uncle. It is not a warrior’s horse. The mare has been trained to both a travois and a rider. She is even-tempered and sure-footed, but shies from shouts and battle sounds. She is a woman’s horse. I have held her back as a marriage gift for my wife.”

  Charlie glanced towards the open door to the lodge long enough to see a wide-eyed Meadowlark peer around the doorframe and meet his gaze. He watched Spotted Horse glance at the two horses, one a young stallion and one a mare. Even though he kept his face expressionless, Charlie could tell the old warrior saw they were good horses and wanted them. He hoped the old warrior wanted them bad enough that he would overlook Charlie’s decision to give the other mare to his daughter rather than to him.

  Spotted Horse turned back to Charlie and with a hard stare.

  “Our warriors have been on many raids to bring back horses. You have done so only once. You have not proven you will stay for the winter hunt. You came last summer, but left with the coming of the cold winds from the north. You make big talk about leading many wagons across the land of our enemies so you may return with many gifts. Perhaps you go, and perhaps the Apache take your scalp and you do not return. Your words are like a babbling stream, Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder. You have not shown me you can provide for my daughter. I will not allow you to marry Meadowlark. Take your gifts and go.”

  Momentarily speechless, Charlie fought back his disappointment. His mind raced as his aching heart dealt with Spotted Horse’s rejection of his marriage offer. After several seconds he stepped forward and held out the blanket to Meadowlark’s father. The hot summer weather did not call for the warmth the heavy wool would provide, but he knew from his days of working in his father’s trading post the trade blanket would be prized once winter came. “I am disappointed you do not yet find me worthy of your daughter, Spotted Horse, but I honor your decision. Please accept this blanket which is a gift for you from Owen Jones, a friend to the Kansa. I will prove my words are true. I will stay through the winter and hunt the buffalo with the Kansa. I will scout for my father’s freight train when the winter snows leave. Unless the Apache get my scalp, I will return with these horses and many more gifts to show I can provide for your daughter and am worthy to be her husband.”

  “Perhaps when you return, Meadowlark will have a husband.”

  Charlie glanced at Meadowlark who stood with her eyes downcast. He boldly returned his gaze to Spotted Horse’s face. “If she does not have a husband when I return after the time of next summer’s buffalo hunt, I will ask for her again.”

  Spotted Horse studied the blanket Charlie held out to him before he reached out and accepted it. “And if you leave your scalp with the Apaches?”

  “If I do leave my scalp with the Apaches, then it will please me for Meadowlark to have the mare I picked out for her. With your permission, Spotted Horse, I will return to Hawk Beak’s home long enough to bring you the mare for Meadowlark to use.” Charlie ignored the rumble of comments the skittered among the watching crowd. Spotted Horse had backed him into a corner. He felt no guilt over doing the same in return.

  Charlie realized Spotted Horse studied him with a ghost of a smile and what he hoped was new-found respect. “It will be as you say. I will accept the woman’s pony for my daughter to ride, Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder. If you do not return, the pony is hers. If you return and still wish my daughter for your wife, I will decide then.”

  “Thank you, Spotted Horse.”

  Ignoring the hushed comments of the audience which discussed what they had witnessed as it broke into small groups, Eyes-like-hawk helped Charlie gather up his gifts and pack them on the two horses. Each man grabbed one of the leads, mounted their horses, and started back towards the home of Hawk Beak.

  Once they were alone on the road, Charlie halted his horse as Eyes-like-hawk rode several feet ahead and turned to block his path.

  “He did not completely turn you away, Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder. He only wishes to try you to see if you are worthy of his daughter. It was his way to tell the tribe she is not married yet, not because she would not be a good wife, but because he values her too greatly to allow her to go easily.”

  “Your words give me hope, Eyes-like-hawk. I will prove to him my words are true.”

  Wearing a grin, Eyes-like-hawk turned his horse to continue their journey. “Your time spent living with a trader has served you well, my cousin. It is good he accepted the blanket as a gift from your father. It shows he respects Owen Jones even though he is a white man. Spotted Horse tries your worthiness, but he wants your horses. He allowed you to give Meadowlark the woman’s pony. No honorable warrior among the Kansa will ask for marriage with Meadowlark as long as she rides a pony intended as a marriage gift from another warrior. Spotted Horse knows this, too.”

  .

  .

  .

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  Chapter 12

  ~o0o~

  Hard Chief’s Camp, Council Grove Kansa Reservation

  Kansas Territory

  September, 1857

  M eadowlark looked towards the doorway to the lodge at the sound of someone scratching on the bark next to the doorframe. She heard Chases Quail called out to her father.

  “May I have permission to enter, Spotted Horse? I wish to speak with Meadowlark.”

  Meadowlark smiled as she watched Sp
otted Horse express is opinion of his sister by marriage as he took several seconds longer than he needed to in order fold the wool blanket he had slept under and to settle himself on his buffalo skin before he granted permission. Meadowlark rose to meet the older woman. However, when Chases Quail entered, a bundle in her arms, her eyes focused on Spotted Horse. She rushed over to him.

  “He comes, Spotted Horse. Word has spread Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder has returned to the home of his uncle. With him came an old white man, not Owen Jones, driving a team of mules. They pull a buckboard filled with many gifts. Some he left with his uncle. But it is said he left many in the wagon plus added the gifts he brought you last summer. He and his cousin took his two horses from their herd. They should be here not long after the sun reaches the center of the sky. It is said Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder will ask you for Meadowlark. I come to warn you so you can be properly dressed to meet him.”

  “I do not need a woman to tell me how to dress, Chases Quail.”

  Chases Quail shrugged as she eyed her dead sister’s husband. “This is so, Spotted Horse. Know that the women prepare, just in case you do decide Meadowlark becomes the wife of Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder tonight. We have already begun to cook a feast.”

  She paused, and Meadowlark watched Chases Quail grin knowingly.

  “He brings many great gifts, Spotted Horse. You will at least want to see them.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Chases Quail turned to Meadowlark and handed her the bundle. “We have worked on this for you for many moons. It is a dress for a new wife to wear to please her husband.”

  Meadowlark accepted the bundle and moved into the light of the open door as she unfolded it. In awe, she ran her palms over the blue and yellow beads of the knee-length dress. Next, she fingered the fringe on the yoke and sleeves. “It is beautiful, Chases Quail. The doeskin is becoming difficult to find. Thank you. I’m honored you and the other women made this for me.”

  Chases Quail grinned with pleasure. “Your mother would have wished it. We have waited long to see the daughter of my sister married, Meadowlark. Now, where are the poles and skins for your tipi you use on the hunt? We will set it up away from the lodges for tonight.” She grinned knowingly. “Maybe you and he will use it for many nights.”

  “I have not yet decided if Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder may have Meadowlark for a wife, Chases Quail.”

  Nonplussed, the woman turned again to Spotted Horse. She grinned in merriment at his scowling face. “I understand. We will prepare anyway. Meadowlark, help me drag these polls and skins out, then you must groom yourself and change into your new dress. You want to be ready for when he comes.”

  Meadowlark struggled to hide her excitement from her father as she helped Chases Quail carry her tipi outdoors. It had belonged to her mother. She and her father used it when they traveled west and hunted buffalo.

  Meadowlark struggled to maintain the proper decorum, but inside, her spirit danced for joy. Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder had not forgotten her. He had not allowed her father to frighten him away. He had evaded death at the hands of the hostile tribes that controlled the land through which he passed as he helped his father’s freight wagons travel between Bonner Springs and Santa Fe. He had earned many gifts, and now he came to ask for her again.

  Once Chases Quail departed, Meadowlark picked up her bag of personal care supplies and the new dress made especially for her marriage. She started towards the door, only to hear her father call out to her.

  “I may decide I do not wish you to marry, Meadowlark. I may decide for you to stay with me to prepare my meals and butcher my buffalo. Someone must prepare the hides.”

  Meadowlark turned to face him, determined to show courage. “If you allow us to share your lodge, including when Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder stays on the reservation, I will be pleased to stay with you and do as you say.”

  “I may not wish a man of mixed blood to live in my lodge, even if he has proven himself to be a worthy Kansa warrior and can provide well for you.”

  “Your other children have all married those of full Kansa blood, Father. You can afford to allow your youngest daughter to marry a half-blood. Our children will still be mostly Kansa and will learn the traditional Kansa ways.”

  “Not if he takes you to live in his uncle’s camp.”

  Meadowlark said nothing for several seconds as her gaze bore into that of her father’s. “I wish Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder for my husband, Father. It is up to you whether or not we share your lodge or we must live with his uncle. If we go to live with those of mixed blood because he is not welcome here, then it will be time for you to take a new wife. Perhaps you should choose a new wife either way. There is more than one widow among the Kansa who would be honored to call the warrior Spotted Horse husband.”

  With that said, Meadowlark walked out of the lodge to allow her grumbling father time to mull over her words.

  Time passed slowly for Meadowlark as she waited with her father inside their lodge. Soon the area outside their door filled with the undercurrent of many footsteps and voices full of anticipation and speculation. The distinct sound of a wagon and harness reached her ears, as well as that of riders on horses. She glanced towards her father who adopted an expression of not being aware of the crowd gathering outside, even though she knew he heard the same thing she did. She smiled when she heard the familiar voice she had grown to love call out to her father.

  “Spotted Horse, the warrior Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder requests permission to speak with you.”

  Meadowlark stood and patiently waited as her father continued for several minutes to sit as if he had not heard Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder address him. He slowly rose and stood tall, his finest clothes neat upon his person. With purposeful steps, he crossed in front of Meadowlark and stepped outside. Quietly, she followed him and stood behind him.

  Her head bowed, through hooded eyes, Meadowlark studied Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder. Her breath caught as she realized he had filled out even more than she recalled from the times she had seen him on the winter buffalo hunt. His arms showed greater strength, and his face held the confident look of a man aware of his abilities. She realized his gaze with the gray eyes that had fascinated her from the time she was a small child focused on her instead of her father. She hoped he saw enough of her spirit reaching out to him to understand she had willingly waited for him, and she wanted no other.

  Spotted Horse grunted at being required to wait while the young warrior before him focused his attention her. Meadowlark smiled as she watched Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder flinch after his cousin, who stood behind him, prodded him in the back.

  “Spotted Horse, I have returned from scouting through the land of the Cheyenne, the Comanche and the Apache. I have returned with my scalp still on my head.” As if to emphasize his point, Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder’s face split into a grin as he bent forward to show off his vermillion-tipped scalp lock adorned with his deer’s tail roach. He dramatically swept his arm towards a wagon where an old white man, a wide grin on his face, sat in the center of the bench and held the leads joined to a pair of mules. “I have brought you many gifts. My father has allowed his former scout, Amos Jackson, the man who trained me to lead his wagons through enemy lands, to drive this wagon so I may bring them to you. The foodstuff we will leave in the wagon for now, but I will be pleased to show you the rest of the gifts so you may see them up close.”

  With those words, several of the young men clamored into the wagon and lifted out trade items useful to the Kansa. One of them found a dark gray wool blanket which he shook open with a snap and laid on the ground before Spotted Horse. The others piled the goods from the wagon on top.

  “These gifts are for you, Spotted Horse. I have other supplies I had set aside to provide for my wife and for the lodge that will watch over my wife when I am gone.” Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder turned back and signaled his cousin. He waited for Eyes-like-hawk to step forward leading the two ponies captured from the Cheyenne the year before. “
In addition, I bring you these two strong ponies, a fine stallion and a mare which you can see is in foal.”

  Meadowlark studied her father’s profile. She could see the greed in his eyes at the sight of the gifts piled in front of him. She could tell he still wanted the ponies offered for her the previous summer. She turned to face Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder, willing him to say the words asking for her to be his wife. She exhaled with relief when the words finally came.

  “Spotted Horse, I am pleased to offer these many gifts to you. I have done this so I can to prove my worth to you. I now ask for Meadowlark to be my wife.”

  A sinking feeling overcame Meadowlark at her father’s response.

  “Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder, it is true you have proven yourself as a warrior who can provide for my daughter. As all here know, I follow the traditional ways. I have only allowed my children to marry among the full-blood Kansa.” He paused and raised his hand towards Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder. “You are only half Kansa by birth.”

  Gray-cloud-speaks-thunder stood tall and gazed intently at the man he hoped would become his father by marriage. “I can do nothing about the white blood within me, Spotted Horse. I can only choose how I will live. I choose to live among the Kansa and have my children raised in the traditional way. I choose to work for my white father part of the year because it allows me to bring to the Kansa food and goods we need as we struggle to keep from being swallowed up by the Americans who steal our land we paid for. My white father speaks truth when he says we Kansa are too few and the white Americans are too many. To try to keep them from the Kansa lands this people used to call their home is like trying to stop the great Kansas and Missouri Rivers and force them to flow upstream. Within me for many moons, those words fought a battle with my desire to keep the land the way it was. But even if the Americans come and cover this land like a swarm of locusts, we must fight against being swallowed up the way our land has been swallowed up. We must stand strong so that the Kansa people and our traditions continue to walk this earth.”