Cherish the Dream

by Kathleen Harrington

  It looked as sinfully inviting as a pillow-strewn harem. Blade spoke quickly in Cheyenne to Snow Owl. She looked in open surprise at Theodora. It was obvious she’d taken for granted that the two would sleep next to each other.

  Theodora’s cheeks burned. Why shouldn’t Snow Owl believe that about her? She was traveling unchaperoned around the countryside with a man who was neither her father nor brother. When Blade’s cousin started to move one of the beds, Theodora hurried to help her. The mattress was made of willow rods strung on lines of sinew, which gave it flexibility. Together they folded it up like a bedroll, then unrolled it on Snow Owl’s side of the lodge. Over this wooden frame they spread a mat woven of tule stems, and topped it with two buffalo robes. Theodora plopped down on the bed and promptly removed her moccasins. She smoothed her hand across a soft pillow made of deerskin and stuffed with animal hair. One side was embroidered with beautiful porcupine quillwork, and she realized from the scent that the leaves and stems of a mint plant, mixed with the needles of sweet pine, had been placed inside. Such luxury seemed wicked and filled with sensual connotations.

  She felt Blade watching her and looked across the tipi at him. He was sprawled on his bed, his long legs stretched in front of him, his shoulders propped against the fur-covered backrest. The back of his head rested in his cupped hands. He’d slipped off his deerskin shirt and moccasins. The sight of his bare feet and legs seemed even more intimate than seeing the dark hair on his chest and underarms.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed silently.

  “You’re welcome,” he returned just as quietly. His lopsided grin was back. But the slight shake of his head revealed that he already regretted his gentlemanly behavior.

  Early the next morning, Theodora helped Snow Owl fetch water from a nearby stream. Carrying the water paunches with the other women, she saw the men and boys emerge from the lodges and head toward the river. Blade walked with Painted Robe and Broken Jaw. Tall Boy tagged behind them.

  “They are going to swim,” Snow Owl told her. “They do it every morning, even in winter, for good health. It will make them strong and well and wash away all sickness. We will bathe this afternoon, while the men are away hunting.”

  As they returned with the fresh water, the camp was coming to life. Women prepared the meal. Young boys rode out into the hills, taking the horses that had been tethered near the lodges for safekeeping. These would be turned loose to graze. When the men returned from the river, they grabbed some food and prepared to leave on the day’s hunt.

  After the dishes were cleaned and stored, Snow Owl invited Theodora to come with the women on a cherry-picking foray. Theodora thought Blade planned to leave that day, but the idea of spending time relaxing sounded very appealing. Besides, she also knew how much the captain enjoyed being with his family.

  She found Blade in the meadow by the river, working with a spotted pony. He ran his hands over the filly as he talked to her, then led her about with a rope halter.

  “She’s a pretty little thing,” Theodora called as she approached. “What’s her name?”

  “Whatever you want to call her,” Blade replied. He held the halter tight and patted the pony’s velvet nose. “She’s yours.”

  “Mine?” Theodora’s voice squealed in surprise and delight.

  “A gift from my grandfather. He saw us both ride in on War Shield. Being a chief, he couldn’t allow us to leave without a mount for you. He has many horses. He let me pick one out for you. I’ll work with her this morning while you pick cherries. By tomorrow she’ll be gentle enough to ride.”

  She laughed at his perspicacity. “I was just coming here to ask if we could stay another day.” She looked around her at the open vista. Since leaving Fort Leavenworth, she’d learned to ride with skill and endurance. The freedom to gallop across the open prairie, as unrestricted as a wild animal, had become a part of her life. She’d learned to shoot a carbine, cook over an open fire, pitch a tent. The thought of returning to the rules and regulations of New England society seemed as uncomfortable and confining as outgrown shoes.

  “Do you think I’ll ever be the same again?” she asked him.

  He turned to look at her with a questioning gaze. When he realized her meaning, he shook his head. “No.”

  “Will you teach me to shoot with a bow and arrow?”

  “Yes. This afternoon, when you come back.” He relaxed his tight hold on the halter and took a step toward Theodora, his eyes betraying his intent. But the filly resented the sudden lack of attention. She snorted and reared up. He pulled the pony down, coaxing her with soft Cheyenne words. She whickered again in reproach, then quieted, shaking her mane.

  “What did you say to her?” Theodora demanded. “She certainly obeyed you promptly enough.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I told her she’d better mind me or I’d trade her for a stud. I can only gentle one hardheaded female at a time.”

  At his words Theodora turned on her heel and raced back across the meadow. “I’ll name her Spitfire,” she called over her shoulder, trying hard to keep the gaiety from her voice.

  His sudden shout of laughter rang out in the cool morning air.

  Chapter 18

  The idea of an outing with feminine companionship, after so many days of only male company on the trail, was too good for Theodora to resist.

  With them came Two Moons Rising, who carried her son on her back, still strapped to his board. Behind them was Deer Walking Fast, two large baskets held in her thin arms. Her sister walked beside her, moving slowly but not as awkwardly as Theodora would have expected, considering her advanced pregnancy.

  “Does Deer Walking Fast have any children?” she whispered to Snow Owl.

  “An older boy who helps herd the horses. Spotted Coyote did not come to the feast since he was guarding them during the night. Deer Walking Fast lost an infant girl this past winter. It is very hard when the babies are born during the cold time. Many are too weak and cannot survive the bitter wind and snow that blows across our land. She and Bald Face Buffalo will wait a year before she has another child. Our people know that it is not good for a woman to have children too close together.”

  “Your people are very wise,” Theodora answered. And the men are very caring, she added silently. She thought of the women she’d seen back home, worn out with childbearing, one pregnancy coming right after another.

  Snow Owl looked around at the nearby riverbank and the thick bushes and small trees laden with fruit. Her large brown eyes glowed with happiness. “Meanesehe, the season when the cherries are ripe, is a good time, for we enjoy our Brother Sun’s warm light. It brings us food and game, and we can eat our fill. We will prepare some of the fruit we gather to save for the wintertime. But some we will eat now, too.”

  The group of women grew larger as others, young and old, joined them. Most carried baskets. Some had brought intricately decorated parfleches. The chokecherries grew right alongside the river, and several of the younger girls took off their moccasins and waded to the other side of the trees to strip off the delicious fruit.

  Theodora worked alongside Two Moons Rising. The plump young mother had hung her baby in his board on a nearby low hanging branch. Every once in a while she’d turn and coo to him as she picked the red cherries. Laughter and noisy chatter began to fill the air, reminding Theodora of the time she’d picked strawberries with Nell Henderson and the dragoons back at Fort Leavenworth.

  They’d barely begun to work when the chatter of the women was pierced by a shriek of terror. Other screams followed, and the girls who’d been wading in the river splashed to the bank, calling out in fright as they came. “Voxpazena-nako! Voxpazena-nako!”

  Unable to understand them, Theodora turned to find Blade’s cousin. Snow Owl had moved farther upstream with Deer Walking Fast. She cupped her hands to shout. “Run, Little Blue Nose. It is a bear!”

  A loud crash reverberated as a tremendous grizzly smashed through the bushes. The women screeched and raced into
the meadow. The last one to understand what was happening, Theodora found herself alone on the bank. The bear stood up on its haunches and roared, enraged that its cherry picking had been disturbed, perhaps even believing it had been cornered by the girls, who had so innocently approached from the rear. The bear looked ten feet tall. It was buff-colored from the summer sun, and its massive paws flailed the air, the long, curved claws slicing like daggers.

  As Theodora turned to follow the others, she heard the wail of a baby. It was Potbelly. In her rush to escape Two Moons Rising had forgotten her infant son.

  The bear heard the infant’s cry at the same moment. It pivoted. Its nostrils twitched; its small eyes searched for the source of the noise. Without pausing to think, Theodora raced toward the board that spun lightly in the morning breeze. She snatched it off the branch and held it protectively to herself. As she whirled about to escape, she looked straight up into the face of the roaring grizzly. Its mouth was open, showing long yellowed fangs. Saliva dripped from its pink gums and jowls.

  “Run, Theodora!” Blade shouted. Suddenly he was almost beside her, his rifle in one hand. With the other he swept up a basket of cherries and hurled it at the beast, hitting it squarely on its snout. The fruit rained over the four of them like scarlet hail. With a roar of outrage, the bear turned from Theodora and grabbed Blade, snatching him up like a child in a bone crunching hug.

  “Blade!” Theodora screamed. She stood frozen in panic as she clutched the baby and his board to her chest.

  The roaring of the grizzly bear shook the ground. Theodora knew there was no hope for Blade. Then the blast of the carbine echoed in the brute’s mouth. Blood and bone and brains spewed from the back of the animal’s head. Blade had jammed the rifle muzzle between the bear’s jaws and discharged it against its soft palate. The huge grizzly dropped him and lurched backward toward the water. In less than three steps it crashed to the muddy bank .

  “Blade!“Theodora cried in horror. She raced to where he lay facedown in the short grass. After placing the baby-board on the bank, she gently turned him over He was unconscious. His bare chest and right shoulder were gashed in ribbonlike slices. Blood poured down his side and puddled on the green grass. “Oh, my God, no!” she wailed. She lifted his head and placed it tenderly on her lap. “Don’t die, Blade!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you die, too!”

  The first to return was Snow Owl and Two Moons Rising. Snow Owl knelt on the grass and placed her ear on Blade Stalker’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. Cautiously, Potbelly’s mother picked up her infant. As she held the baby in his board, she stood and stared down at the fallen man.

  “He is alive,” Snow Owl said. She called to the other women, who were cautiously returning. With them came the older men who had not ridden out to hunt that morning.

  In their midst, Painted Robe hurried across the meadow. He knelt beside Blade Stalker as he listened to the excited talk of the women. Then he lifted his grandson in his arms and carried him back to the village. Sobbing, Theodora followed beside him with Snow Owl’s arm around her.

  Chief Painted Robe laid Blade Stalker on his own bed. The wounded man was now conscious, and they spoke quietly.

  “My cousin has asked our grandfather to let you care for him. He says you have strong medicine,” Snow Owl translated.

  Tears coursing down her cheeks, Theodora knelt beside the mattress. “I’ll need your help,” she replied.

  “My grandfather says you have a brave heart. We will do whatever you wish for nis’ is, my cousin.”

  Blade was watching Theodora silently. Only his stillness betrayed the horrible pain he suffered.

  In anguish Theodora realized she had nothing but soap and water with which to cleanse the four bloody slashes that ran across his chest and shoulder. She had used up all the alcohol in his saddlebag in tending the cut on his leg.

  “First, I want fresh water from the river to clean out the cuts. Then I’ll need something to sew them with. Also, we must see if there are any broken ribs.”

  Snow Owl worked with her. Kneeling on each side of him, they cautiously felt his rib cage. “Maheo has protected you,” Snow Owl told her cousin. “There are no broken bones. Only a man as strong as Blade Stalker could withstand the fierce hug of the voxpazena-nako and not be crushed.” She sat back on her calves and looked at Theodora. “I will help you sew up the cuts, Little Blue Nose. I have done this before for my husband.”

  Together they cleansed the wounds, careful to remove all bits of fur and dirt embedded in them. Then, using a bone needle and fine sinew, Snow Owl stitched together the torn flesh that Theodora held in place. Even during the sewing, Blade didn’t make a sound.

  “The end result isn’t going to be pretty,” Theodora warned him as she wrapped a soft deerskin tightly around his chest, under his arm, and across his shoulder.

  His voice was weak, but he flashed his lopsided grin. “I never spent a lot of time worrying about my good looks.”

  “How any man can wrestle a grizzly and then joke about it is beyond me,” she scolded him. “Now be quiet and lie absolutely still. I’m going to bind your whole chest very tightly. Even though we didn’t find any ribs broken, you may have a cracked one that we can’t feel. After that, I don’t want you to move. I’m the bourgeois now, and I’m giving the orders.”

  “I’ve no intention of going anywhere at the moment, princess,” he conceded. “As long as you promise to stay right beside me. I don’t want you wandering off and getting into any more trouble.”

  “I promise. Now try to rest.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “My grandfather was right. That was a very brave thing you did, vehoka.”

  She placed two fingers against his lips. “Hush. You can tell me how wonderful I am tomorrow.”

  With the ghost of a smile, he closed his eyes.

  By evening Theodora was afraid that for Blade Stalker there would be no tomorrow. An infection had set in, bringing with it a raging fever. She bathed him in cool water, but his skin remained hot to the touch. The wounds were inflamed, and streaks of red spread across his belly and down his arm.

  All night long she and Snow Owl took turns sponging him. They lifted his head and tried to get him to swallow the clear, cool water. He was delirious, unable to understand their commands. Most of what he said was in Cheyenne, but Theodora recognized a few words. Throughout his ramblings, he called her name over and over. Theodora and Little Blue Nose and vehona-princess.

  “Shh, I’m here, Blade. I’m right beside you,” she told him in an effort to calm his wild thrashing. But to no avail. The only name he responded to in his delirium was Zehetoxemhoneheo—Blade Stalker. When she repeated the phrases Snow Owl taught her in Cheyenne to quiet him, he would lie still for a while, only his hands fidgeting restlessly.

  People came to the tipi to ask about his recovery during the evening. They praised the yellow-haired woman who’d risked her life to save Weasel Tail’s only son. But Theodora was only vaguely aware of the visitors, though she realized that Chief Painted Robe stayed awake all night with her and Snow Owl, watching his grandson.

  By morning there was still no change.

  “We’ve got to reduce the fever,” she told Snow Owl as she felt Blade’s brow. “Bathing him in cool water is not enough. We need something to bring it down quickly and keep it down.”

  Snow Owl’s brown eyes were shadowed with concern. “There is an old medicine woman in our village. She knows the plants that help the sick.”

  Theodora grasped her hand. “Take me to her. She may have some herbs that will work.”

  As they stepped from the lodge, Weasel Tail and Two Moons Rising met them. The young mother was holding Potbelly, now released from the infant board. A smile creased her round face and lit her dark eyes.

  The couple questioned Snow Owl about Blade Stalker’s wounds. Hearing her answer, they shook their heads solemnly. The two women turned to resume their errand, but Wea
sel Tail intercepted Theodora. He smiled broadly and spoke directly to her; she realized he was thanking her for the life of his son.

  “You’re welcome, Weasel Tail,” she said, and returned his grin. Even though he couldn’t comprehend her words, she knew he would understand her open smile of friendship.

  Abruptly, Weasel Tail thrust a ring toward her, gesturing that she take it. Two Moons Rising spoke as well and nodded her agreement.

  Touched by their gratitude, Theodora lifted the ring from his open palm. It was made of horn, intricately carved with geometric designs. “Thank you,” she said, and smiled at him again. She slipped it on her finger. “I’ll treasure this remembrance.”

  Snow Owl, who had moved ahead and hadn’t seen the gift, called to her. “Come, Little Blue Nose. We need to catch Picking Bones Woman before she leaves this morning to collect her plants.”

  They hurried to the far end of the village where a small lodge stood slightly apart from the rest. As they entered, Theodora saw a wizened old woman sitting cross-legged on a robe beside a small fire. A network of wrinkles covered her face; her long, stringy hair was white and coarse. At her invitation they joined her on the bearskin rug. All around the tipi were stacks of baskets filled with leaves and clay bowls of ointments and salves.

  Snow Owl spoke rapidly to the old woman. Nodding, the toothless ancient turned to Theodora. When she replied, her reedy voice cracked and broke.

  “Picking Bones Woman no longer tends the wounds of warriors. For many years now, it has been forbidden by Short Eared Rabbit, the medicine man.”

  “Ask her why healing has been forbidden to her.”

  “She says Short Eared Rabbit is jealous of her powerful medicine. As a young woman she cured many brave warriors who had been injured in battle. But now she is old and those whom she saved have gone, to their place in the sky to hunt. No longer is she respected as she once was, even though she still has her bundle of medicines, the secrets of which she has shared with no one.”