by Rita Hestand
How could she think such a thing? And yet she wondered now, how would it be, a kiss from an Indian?
The way he looked at her as they walked back to the wickiup made her wonder if he regretted not kissing her.
Strangely her life was pleasant. There were no threats to her life, no problems, just living. If she needed help, he was there for her. He was a patient teacher too. John had muttered almost to himself how helpless she was at times. He certainly never appreciated her asking for help.
That night, she looked at Red Elk seriously. "I never asked but is there anyone you look upon with favor in your camp. Anyone who was special to you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. I mean I've told you of John, but surely you must have had past relationships that meant something to you."
"It is not the same as a marriage," he replied too quickly.
"Still, I shared, can't you?"
His face turned serious now, as he seemed to study his reaction before giving it. "Painted Dove was a good slave, she served me well, but she could have no child. For three long years we… were together. And then quite suddenly it was over."
Naomi was a bit speechless. "Why didn't you tell me. Are you in love with her?" Naomi seemed shocked at this news.
Frustrations lined his face now. "There's that word again. You use it often, don't you? For one that has never known love, you seem to know a lot about it."
"Well you must have felt something if you…. " she stopped, she knew she'd gone too far.
He came up behind her, smiling. "If I took her, as she offered. But nothing came of it."
"That's not what I meant," she whirled around to see him staring intently.
"I know that." He said softly." And I mean no offense to you. You want to know if I had feelings for her, don't you?"
"Well, do you?" she asked, a bit sharply.
"The kind of feelings you have for a beautiful animal, but it wasn't the kind of relationship you are thinking."
"But do you love her?" Naomi's voice rose some, then she turned away. "I'm sorry, I don't have the right to ask such a question."
"You have the right to ask, but I don't have an answer, as I have little to compare it to. She desired me, I know that. It was a compliment. She never looked down on my being a breed. And I suppose I miss her warming my bed, but I do not know if it was love. A man needs a woman… that way, but there seemed to be something missing between us. I do not know what it was. Perhaps we were missing this thing you call love."
Naomi felt restless after that.
"H-have you ever been in love?" she asked.
"No, I can honestly say, I have not."
"Is she the only one you… that was special."
"Yes, she is."
If she was the only one, he treated that way, it made her special, and somehow that bothered Naomi. She had no right to feel jealousy, but she did. She recognized it in herself and didn't like it. Still, the feeling didn't go away.
"But you gave her away so freely." Naomi questioned. "After three years…. How could you do that?"
He turned away, "Perhaps that answers your question."
He walked out of the wickiup and she was left to mull that information over. Why hadn't he married Painted Dove, three years was a long time to…
It left questions unanswered though. And Naomi studied Painted Dove every chance she got. Painted Dove worked for Bear Foot just as easily as Red Elk. But she looked sad now. She would often look at Red Elk's wickiup, with longing.
Naomi wondered if she brought this sadness on her. She hadn't meant to.
Still, it seemed a rather touchy subject with Red Elk, so she did her best not to bring it up again. Trying not to think about it, she busied herself with making bread and doing wash.
When they moved back into the regular wickiup, Naomi saw Painted Dove every day. She would smile sadly at her and pass her by. She wished she could talk to her.
The only thing she really could do was run away again.
But she was Red Elk's wife now, and she'd told him she would be his companion. How could she leave and break her word? She'd given her word, and she was married to him. Had he married her just because she was white, thinking she might give him the child he desired? It sounded reasonable. Strangely though, Red Elk had been good to her. He treated her with kindness and respect. And he complimented her so many times about her hair, and her beauty. She wondered why? John never had. Being Red Elk's wife was much different than being John's wife. A sense of respect was building between her and Red Elk that she'd never enjoyed with her white husband.
She had to quit comparing them.
Big Hand, Red Elk's closest Indian friend visited often, and he spoke English. Naomi wanted to get to know him, maybe he could tell her about Painted Dove.
One day when Red Elk went to the fort, Big Hand was walking by and she stopped him.
"Good morning."
"Good morning." He answered.
But he did not stop, and she couldn't make him, so her opportunity slipped away.
She missed Red Elk being away all day, and when he came in hot and tired from his long ride, he wanted supper and to go to bed.
"So how were things at the fort?" she asked.
His brow furrowed. "News is Colonel Chivington has been busy up by Texas and the Indian Territories. He invades, he destroys, he kills the innocent."
"Colonel Chivington, he is a mean one. His raiding is famous all over. What do you mean, busy?" she asked her eyes widening.
"He raided a Comanche village and killed every woman and child…"
"The braves did not stop him?"
"No, they were out hunting only old men were there and they were killed too."
"The women and children?" She came up to him now, concern lacing her voice. "I have heard he is a fierce fighter."
"Yes. The news spread fast. He's got every Comanche and even some Apache stirred up now."
"That's not good, is it?" she asked, with concern.
"No, it will not affect us, as we work with the army, but many of our brothers will die in battle. Chivington isn't a fair enemy. Some of my people would want to join in those wars, but we have a treaty of sorts. When things like this happen, my people become restless and want to join the others. It is sometimes hard to keep control of them. Our hearts are heavy for them and our drums will beat tonight for the news I shared with them."
"I do not understand, how can some Apache war and some not?"
"Dark Moon was our chief long ago, and the one thing he kept was the peace. He showed us that peace is much better and that we could all live longer. We have lived in this valley for many years, before there were any Camps or Forts. We kept the peace all this time. Cochise and other chiefs have tried to get us to join them in their wars. But we never did."
"Who is your chief now?'
"We have elders of the tribe who set the rules. It is up to all of us to keep those rules. Otherwise we are banned from the tribe."
"Does this Cochise get angry because you do not want to war with him?"
"No, he is a peaceful man himself, but you cannot cross him, or he will go to war on you. You cannot take his land or interfere with his tribe. If you do either, you have a fight on your hands that you will not want."
"So, you don't war?"
"No, from time to time we steal back our horses that are stolen, but we do not go to war."
"Who steals them?"
"Other Indian tribes, mostly. Mexicans when they come this far north."
"I'm sorry, about Chivington. I cannot take up for him for I know the kind of leader he is. Many whites fear him too." she laid a hand on his arm to comfort him. "I've heard a lot about him."
He stared at her hand.
He moved away. "How was your day?"
"The same, laundry, cooking, cleaning." She smiled.
"The great war has begun," he announced.
"The war between the states?" she asked with shock.
> "Yes, Camp Tucson will be practically deserted now. They are even talking about burning it, so the Union can't take it over. It began back in March or April, but they have had a few bloody battles that killed many."
"But won't that leave the settlers in danger if the soldiers abandon the forts?"
"Yes, it will." He sighed. "There will be many raids, many killings. Especially in Texas and north of there. And in New Mexico Territory."
"You aren't going to be a part of this war, are you?" she asked her eyes pinned on him.
"It will take time for it to reach this far. But no, I will not be a part of it if I can help it." He told her. "I also spoke to one of the soldiers who told me of this Mormon religion. He told me a lot about it, he had an Uncle that changed his religion, so he could marry three women at once. Everything you said was the truth, wasn't it?"
"Yes, I'm glad someone told you more about it."
"He also said that most of them are eventually run out of the state for living like that, except like you said up north."
"It is true. Had John ever told his friends in Texas they would have jailed him or run us out of the state."
He came closer now, staring into her face with a slight grin, "I am glad you told me the truth. And it must have been hard standing up to your husband, rejecting him in your bed."
"It was the first time I spoke against him, it shocked him, angered him. Not that his anger scared me. Because he wasn't a violent man. I'm glad you finally believe me!" she sighed her relief. When he seemed to be moody, she caught glimpses of him in the corner of her eye. "Red Elk, I wasn't going to speak of this again, but if you feel you love her, I can leave… "
He seemed distracted.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, quirking his head in question.
"If you love Painted Dove, I will leave so you can be together."
"You will not leave, you are my wife!" He told her simply.
"Not if you love her, I'm not…" she told him.
"You will stay, and we will not speak of it again." He told her and walked out.
Naomi stared after him. Had she traded a Mormon husband for a Christian Indian husband? Had Red Elk loved Painted Dove all this time and was just now realizing it?
It seemed there was no place for her.
She went to bed that night, thinking about all he'd said. She did not sleep with him, only beside him. He never touched her or acted as though he wanted to. They'd never even kissed each other. So how could she take Painted Dove's place? And why was she even contemplating it?
She'd promised to be his companion, she just had to remember that. That's all she was, his companion. It was easy to forget when he was so pleasant to be around. But he was definitely touchy when it came to his feelings. Since she'd never known what they called true love, she was content to being Red Elk's companion.
But the curiosity of true love remained hidden in her heart. For if she were truthful, she would admit it was what she sought all along.
If she could separate being his wife from being his companion, maybe things could work out, somehow. But as his wife, she couldn't stop the jealousy that spread through her like a dirty knife to her heart. Her life consisted of learning to please a man. A man she hardly knew. First John, now Red Elk. She had contemplated this marriage being at least pleasant, but if he loved Painted Dove, it might be worse for one truth she had to face was that she liked her Indian husband. And the sharing was a real problem for her, and she knew it.
It was her that made the mistake. It was she that started thinking of herself as his wife. Somehow, she had to rectify this situation, because the tension between her and Red Elk was like a live wire now.
One afternoon, she'd taken a bath in the creek and came back to the wickiup to find Painted Dove inside talking to Red Elk. She could see them, so she stayed outside and watched. It wasn't right, but she needed to know the truth of their relationship.
He was standing close to Painted Dove and she turned her big sad eyes upon him.
He kissed her forehead, "You have my blessings, go now."
Painted Dove stared and was crying as she left.
Naomi waited a moment to watch Painted Dove go to Bear Foot's wickiup. She didn't say a word to her, so Naomi went inside, and Red Elk was playing his flute. This flute was bigger, and the sound coming from it was so soothing she couldn't believe it. How could he play so well?
She listened, trying to calm her nerves. He'd kissed Painted Dove, after he married her! He must love Painted Dove.
He was good with his flute and she knew he knew she liked it.
When he finished, he smiled, "Did you like my music?"
"Of course, I love to listen to it. You play very well." She told him.
"My father taught me. I'll have to teach you to play someday." He told her.
She swallowed hard. "Are you hungry?"
"No, not yet. Come and tell me of your day." He told her.
She sat down in front of him, searching his face for some answer as to what she'd seen. There was nothing. Was he hiding things from her now? She couldn't bear it.
"It was a day like any other."
"Are you bored here?"
"Sometimes, yes. I have no one to talk to." She told him.
"I am sorry. Only Big Hand and his wife speak English well. Although there are many that know some words. They are shy to use them though."
"His wife, I have not met her. What is her name?"
"Chosen One," he smiled.
"That's a name?"
"Yes. In English of course."
"I'd like to meet her."
"Then I will introduce you. I should have done that a long time ago. Big Hand is my best friend, and she is very nice. You will get along well with them."
"Then invite them to eat with us tomorrow, so I can meet them and get to know them."
"Alright, that is a good idea. I'm glad you thought of it. Tell me, Naomi, what did your white husband do to make you happy?" He put his flute down and glanced at her.
"Happy?" She shrugged.
"Yes, happy!" he smiled sexily at her. "I want to keep my wife happy."
She shrugged. If he only understood. Married life hadn't turned out the way she thought it should. "Red Elk I'd like to answer your question, but you do not understand John any better than I do Painted Dove. We worked together a lot, in the fields, we had friends over the first year a lot, after that, not so much. Since he took more wives, he knew that some of his friends would not approve of it. When some of our neighbors found out about him being Mormon, they threw things at our house and shouted ugly things to us. Some never came back to visit again. He quit going to town so often too, as people did not want him there. He went only for supplies."
Red Elk seemed to consider her words. "No, I mean, what did you do, to keep yourself happy. Did you sing in the choir, quilt, sew, what did you do?"
"I used to sew all the time, but John didn't care for some of my work, so I stopped. He didn't buy me material to work with, so it was impossible. The first year we went to a barn dance once."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Not really, he didn't dance."
"Then why go?"
"That's what I ask him." She smiled.
"Did he play a guitar, a drum or anything?"
"No, nothing. He didn't like music."
"Did he take you often….?"
Naomi glanced at him now, "Take me?"
"To his bed."
She looked at him in surprise. She hadn't expected the question.
She blushed, shrugging, "About once a month.'
"That's all?"
"That's all," she murmured blushing. Then she looked at him seriously.
"Red Elk, John thought anything to do with the flesh was a sin. He thought of it as dirty. The taking was only for the purpose of having children. Anything else was sinful and he wanted no part of it. The only reason he indulged at all was that he wanted children. To bed me as his wife was sinful to him.
He never looked upon me, he would gently pull my gown up, take me, and get off. That was all there was to it. Anything more would have complicated his religion. And to tell the truth after a while, I didn't want any more than that with him. I begin to hate the word sin. I begin to turn away instead of toward."
The way she said the words, Red Elk picked up on it.
"He never looked upon you?"
"No, never… " she said so flatly, he stared.
"But you were his wife. You said he never kissed you on the lips."
"No," she hung her head. "It made no difference. He would sort of peck me on the cheek. I guess it was his way of showing affection. I got to wondering why he even bothered. It was not a loving relationship."
"That is not right! I cannot imagine it! What kind of religion leaves so much pleasure out of a relationship? That's no reason to marry. A woman is to be cherished. To love and be loved."
Naomi stared at him now.
She'd never heard anyone voice those thought before, but herself!
"I thought you knew nothing of love?" she smiled.
"I know enough." He smiled back.
She was almost sure he did, too.
When it got quiet, she sighed heavily and looked at him. "I hesitate to talk of this but feel I must. I don't want any secrets between us, secrets are never good. So, I must ask. Do you want to have relations with Painted Dove?" she blurted.
"Relations? Sexual relations you mean?"
"Yes, that's what I mean," she snapped and stood up.
"What gave you that idea?" His brows furrowed his voice strained.
"You were kissing her, were you not?" she asked standing up.
He stood up too now, "On the forehead, that's hardly a kiss. As you have said before. No more than your husband kissing you on the cheek. It is not the same and you know this. You must know it. But then… if he only kissed on the cheek, then perhaps you do not know it."
"But he was my husband, he had that right. And your kiss looked like one to me!" she snapped unable to stop herself. "Besides, you never married her, and you kiss her, so you must enjoy it. I am not here to make you miserable, or to judge you. I'm the outsider here. So, if…"
He smiled sexily at her now, "She's marrying Bear Foot. She asked my permission. And you are no longer an outsider here. You are my wife and you must remember it."