Little Flower

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “He assures me his father would accept it,” Little Flower insisted, but the assurance behind the words felt dry in her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the panicking feeling that was starting to wash over her.

  “I saw how you tried to stop him from going on the hunt,” Talking Dog changed the subject.

  “I was not trying to stop him! I was just asking him a question before he left.”

  “I heard the question, and he did not answer it did he? It looked like you were trying to stop him. He will lose face with everyone if he takes you as his wife. That is why he did not answer you. They all know you still have white ways. Your white ways will never change. It would not be good for the son of the Village Chief to be shamed by his wife.”

  “I would not shame him, and if that is your fear, why would you want to be shamed by me instead?”

  “I am not the son of a chief. I could train you better so, later, you would know what not to do as the wife of a Sioux.”

  “Gray Wolf could train me,” Little Flower huffed, beginning to walk again a little faster than before.

  Talking Dog kept up with her. “If he loses face because of you he could request you be banished, or even put to death,” he said fiercely.

  “Well, then everyone would be rid of me wouldn’t they,” Little Flower murmured, worrying what it would be like being rejected by Gray Wolf along with the rest of the tribe.

  “I would never try to banish you,” he told her.

  “And neither would Gray Wolf!” She just wasn’t certain she could actually believe her own words.

  “I told Gray Wolf I wanted you for my woman. He did not challenge me.”

  “He…he didn’t care?” her voice shook.

  “He said it was for you to choose.”

  “Well, I may not accept either of you,” she spat, pulling her arm from his grasp and pushing off of the trail through the underbrush. “After all, you would not want to lose face because of me!”

  Talking Dog ducked through the brush as well, keeping pace with her.

  “Go away, Talking Dog. I want to be alone,” she insisted.

  “No,” Talking Dog grumbled. “I will stay beside you.”

  “I don’t want you here,” she said pushing against his chest.

  “If you will not agree to become my woman, I will make you my woman anyway!” he threatened.

  “You cannot do that! Gray Wolf would kill you if you ever touched me.”

  “Not if he learns you were willing,” Talking Dog said, with fake sweetness in his voice.

  “Ha! You know I would never be willing,” she responded.

  “It would be your word against mine,” Talking Dog said sinisterly.

  “You cannot force me! Then you would be banished.”

  “You are a white woman. The law applies only to our own women.”

  “I am an adopted member of the tribe!”

  “You are still white. You think they would believe you over me?”

  “Gray Wolf would,” she growled, starting to back away, for the first time feeling at risk to be with Talking Dog.

  “Once I persuade you, I doubt you would tell Gray Wolf. You would want only my touch after that.”

  “You are full of false pride, Talking Dog. I don’t even like the looks of you!”

  Talking Dog’s eyes narrowed. He gripped her arm again, his fingers biting into her skin, causing her to whimper. “It matters not,” he whispered loudly in her ear. “You will learn to like the looks of me.”

  Little Flower could feel Talking Dog dragging her down to the ground beside him, his body falling over hers so she couldn’t escape.

  “The lesson on how to submit to your brave will begin now,” he smiled, as his mouth covered the side of her neck, sucking deeply on her skin.

  Little Flower struggled to release herself from him in vain.

  “Once my mark is seen on your neck, others will know you have been with a man,” he chuckled. “Even Gray Wolf will accept the evidence.”

  Little Flower struggled harder, but her wrists were grasped and held above her head, and then Talking Dog’s lips were invading hers, forcing her mouth to part as he groped at her with his tongue.

  “Please,” Little Flower begged, but his mouth was silencing her as the pressure grew. She felt as though she was about to gag.

  Talking Dog gripped both of her small wrists in one large palm, freeing the other to fumble with her clothing, as his mouth accosted her, pulling at the material and ties in an effort to free her from them. A sickening feeling came over her when she felt his hand against her bare skin, pushing up beneath the material seeking out what he searched for.

  His mouth did not relent, causing Little Flower’s lips to swell at his forceful taunting as he pulled and nibbled at them. Now fingers were digging into her soft skin beneath the buckskin finding what they desired, pulling and playing at her vulnerability. She stiffened at the touch, but could not scoot away. A sickening feeling flooded over her as she felt what Talking Dog was accomplishing, seeking something she was sure would ruin her from ever becoming Gray Wolf’s wife.

  She tried to endure it. She tried to relax since struggling only seemed to make it worse. When Talking Dog felt her relaxing, he gave a low chuckle, releasing her wrists, pushing her skirt higher with the help of his other hand. Looking down on what he was touching, licking his lips in satisfaction as he viewed his prize.

  His head lowered, claiming her, taking her in a way Little Flower had not expected, the fear subsided for a time, letting her catch her breath, finding herself relaxing against her will, allowing him what he wished, thinking it was not as bad as she had expected. Was this what a man wanted from a woman, she wondered, as she felt her breath picking up speed in spite of her repulsion at what Talking Dog was forcing upon her?

  Her body involuntarily trembled, an unexplainable sensation suddenly flooding over her. The moment it happened, she heard Talking Dog chuckle and then she felt him rise. She was puzzled, trying to understand what had just happened, but the next moment, he was pressing down on her again, his body invading her trying to find space, a searing pain ripping through her as he forced her to comply, his movements gaining momentum ignoring her frightened groans with each new intrusion, deepening to her very center. Then he was collapsing over her, trying to catch his breath, laughing low in his throat.

  “You are my woman now,” he stated. “I will inform Chief Beaver of it when we return to the village. Gray wolf will never want you now.”

  The tears seeped from Little Flowers eyes. She hadn’t realized she had been crying the whole time. Her indignation grew and she pushed Talking Dog off of her. She rose to her feet and gave him a precise kick to the groin, listening to him wail and blubber as he held his injured part.

  “I will never be your woman!” she spat at him, giving him a kick in the ribs for good measure. “You are a disgrace to your people!”

  Little flower sprinted up the trail to the river. Talking Dog had not attempted to follow. His ankle ached from the walk out there with her, and the pain that was shooting through his groin was not subsiding. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to have Little Flower as his woman he thought. Still, he had the pleasure of taking her. No brave would want her as his woman now, he chuckled to himself. Not even Gray Wolf, the love-sick puppy.

  Perhaps he never wanted her in the first place. Perhaps he just wanted to know what it felt like to have her that way, Talking Dog thought. Now he knew. Now it wasn’t important to pursue her any longer. He had done what he had intended to do for a long time, now. White women weren’t that different he sneered to himself with meanness. He felt he had done Gray Wolf a favor. He couldn’t wait to tell him how insignificant taking a white woman really was and how easily Little Flower had been persuaded by his charms. He had saved Gray Wolf from future disappointment, he chuckled to himself. Crazy Eyes would never make a satisfactory wife, no matter who in the tribe took her, he affirmed with a malicious grin. Still it was
a consideration if he changed his mind.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Little Flower threw her clothes aside and walked down into the river, her only focus was to wash the stench of Talking Dog off of her skin and from within her soul where it had invaded and then planted itself. Her whole body shook in outrage and fear. She knew now that even if Gray Wolf still wanted her, there was no chance he would desire her once he learned that Talking Dog had taken her. Even if it was against her will, she was no longer pure. She was no longer the virtuous woman worthy of becoming the wife of the son of a chief. Even Gray Wolf had not wanted to spoil her. It now dawned on her that was why he said he would not touch her until he became a man and his choice was to take her as his wife. Only she wondered if it still would have been his choice even if Talking Dog had not ruined her.

  Now Merry Morning would have her way. Gray Wolf would be forced to choose her. Even so, Little Flower vowed never to go to Talking Dog. She would never look upon his face again she seethed under her breath, even if he had planted his seed within her and it took hold. Her lips felt sore and swollen. She could see bruises in the form of Talking Dog’s fingers darkening on her arm. She rubbed her neck where Talking Dog claimed he left his mark on her. She was afraid to touch any other part of her body that he had violated. There was still a dull pain pulsing within her, reminding her of the degrading act.

  She had trusted these people! She had thought of them as her people. Now she had to accept the fact they had never been her people. Both Merry Morning and Talking Dog had betrayed her. She had considered them her friends. She would always be a white woman to them, though. How many other braves in the tribe wanted to accost her in the same way Talking Dog had? Talking Dog would be sure to brag about it. Once they learned of it they would believe she was an easy mark. She would never be safe. She wouldn’t have Gray Wolf as a protective husband to shield her. She would always have to be looking over her shoulder from this moment on.

  Little Flower stayed in the river for as long as she could, but eventually, she would have to return to the village. Everyone would look at her with prying eyes and see the mark. They would know! She hastily unbraided her hair and let it fall around her neck, hoping to hide the tale-tale sigh.

  Once she was dressed, she slowly limped back to her teepee. She realized it really wasn’t her teepee. It would always belong to Chief Beaver and Sky Lark. She could not be part of their family now. They would throw her out once they learned and believed that she allowed Talking Dog to touch her willingly. Even if Gray Wolf asked for her, Chief Beaver would never allow it, if he ever learned of her shame. The son of a chief deserved a virgin wife.

  When she arrived at the teepee, she was hoping to slip inside unnoticed, but Sky Lark rushed to her as soon as she saw her approaching.

  “Where have you been, my daughter?” she asked, a worried look clouding her eyes. At first, Little Flower thought Sky Lark could tell something had happened to her, and wondered what she should say. Only then, Sky Lark continued. “You are to go to the council lodge. Your presence is requested there.”

  “Why?” Little Flower asked, feeling bewildered. She had never been allowed to enter the council lodge before. Most women were not welcome to sit with the elders or take part in the conversations taking place in the council lodge. Why were the rules being changed for her?

  “You will discover it, once you arrive.”

  Little Flower began to shiver. They had found out! Talking Dog must have come to the elders and told them. Now she would have to stand before them and face the accusations and they would banish her from the tribe, making her fend for herself, which, for her, meant certain death. She knew nothing about protecting herself against wild beasts or how to find food, other than using a snare and digging for roots. In the winter, she would end up starving to death with no brave to hunt for her food or freezing to death since she would have no hides to build a teepee with, unless some other tribe took her in.

  If that tribe discovered why she was banished, they would expect her to become their slave. They would merely consider her to be a white captive. They would give her to the braves to use as they pleased. It would be more depraved than what Talking Dog had done. Even worse, the elders may force her to become Talking Dog’s wife. She would prefer being banished to becoming Talking Dog’s wife, she shuttered inside.

  Little Flower dragged her feet as she walked to the center of the village, where the council lodge was located. As she passed through the village, all eyes seemed to be following her. She could hear muffled whispers. They all knew! The whole village knew. She wanted to turn into a sparrow and fly away unnoticed because of her insignificance. She wanted to melt like a snowflake and seep into the ground beneath her feet. Only neither of those things happened. She was forced to go forward and face the consequences, whatever they may be.

  When she finally stood before the lodge, the flap was opened, and Chief Beaver stepped out. “Welcome, my daughter,” he murmured.

  His eyes were soft. He didn’t seem angry. He actually looked sad. Maybe his disappointment in her was so great, it caused him to pity her, Little Flower worried. She tried to hold her head up and prove to him it had not been her wish to let Talking Dog touch her. She would have to make him and the council believe her story.

  “Come, we have been waiting for you,” Chief Beaver said kindly, almost too kindly. He held the flap for her to enter.

  The lodge was dim and Little Flower had to blink to adjust her eyes, even though the flickering fire lent light to the faces that were gathered, watching her as she entered. She recognized the elders, all with sedate-looking faces, not betraying their inner attitude. As she looked over the faces, she froze. Someone else was standing among them. Someone who at first she thought was a stranger, but recognition slowly worked itself through her numbed brain.

  “This is your father who has come to claim you,” the voice of Chief Beaver was saying, sounding muted, and then she heard nothing. Everything turned dark, as she slumped to the floor.

  Someone was patting her hand. She felt a cool cloth on her head. She slowly opened her eyes to look up into the eyes of her father. Eyes she never believed she would be able to look into again.

  “Daisy? Is it truly you, Daisy?”

  He looked older, much too older. His efforts to find her had taken its toll on his features. His smile was gentle and hopeful, as he clutched Little Flower’s hand.

  She was lying across his lap as he sat on the floor of the lodge. He pushed back her damp, tangled hair in a loving gesture. “I have come to bring you home,” he murmured. “You are safe now. Your mother is anxiously waiting for us in San Francisco.”

  Little Flower had almost forgotten that name. They had been headed there, it seemed a lifetime ago. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think. Hours earlier, she may have refused to go with him, but now, it was a blessing in disguise. He would save her from her shame. No one would ever discover what Talking Dog had done, and even if they did, she would be long gone and wouldn’t have to face the disapproving glares of the tribe.

  She felt the wetness of tears on her cheeks. Her throat was too dry to let any words form. Her tears came harder, choking her throat, making it difficult to breathe, causing her chest to heave in pain. Her father’s arms clutched her to him, burying her face in the rough tweed of his suitcoat. The faint smell of shaving soap and tobacco filled her nostrils. It was a familiar smell, a smell that carried her back to her childhood when her father used to pick her up in his arms, and then put her upon his shoulders. It really was her father! He had finally come to save her, right when she needed saving the most.

  Mr. Radford picked his daughter up in his arms. “The ransom is yours,” he mumbled to Chief Beaver. “Five-hundred dollars, three hundred more than you requested.”

  “We have loved your daughter as our own,” Chief Beaver informed him. “We will miss her greatly.”

  “Thank you for taking such good care of her,” Mr. Radford murmured. “I kn
ow you did not capture her on purpose. No telling what would have happened to her if your son had not discovered her.”

  Chief Beaver shrugged. He felt tears touching the back of his eyes. Only Indians did not cry, so he swallowed them away. He had no words to say. He would have rather kept her than the five-hundred dollars. Gray Wolf would never forgive him for letting her go. Only he knew if he refused, the government men would come and punish him, perhaps sending their army down upon his village. There was enough unrest between the whites and the Sioux as it was. He was not ready to face something like that. They were already pushing Indians that did not cooperate with the Great White Father of the whites into reservations. He did not want to be part of those groups.

  Little Flower clung to her father’s neck as he carried her across the village to a small covered wagon on the outskirts of it. All eyes of the tribe who they passed, looked curiously at the white man dressed in a fancy suit, carrying Little Flower to his wagon. Chief Beaver followed, leading Little Flower’s horse, and carrying her puppy. He placed the puppy in her arms just before Mr. Radford put her in the wagon, and tied Starfire to the back of the wagon.

  “We love you, Little Flower,” he grunted, trying to control his emotions. “Don’t forget your Sioux family.”

  Little flower knew she would miss her Sioux family, but she also knew this was the only way that she would never have to face Gray Wolf, knowing her shame. Even if Talking Dog told him, she would not have to witness the pain in his eyes when he learned of it. She knew that Talking Dog would change the version of the incident and Gray Wolf would think the worst of her.

  “Thank you for taking me in as your daughter,” Little Flower mumbled, almost afraid to look into his eyes.

  Then her father was placing her in the wagon where he had a cot set up for her. She watched, clutching Lucky to her, as Chief Beaver walked away. She assumed she would never see him again. Worse yet, she would never see Gray Wolf again, and the tears filled her eyes, spilling over and falling on Lucky’s soft fur. Now that she was white again, she thought, she could cry all she wanted!