Realizing what she meant, he drew back. “No.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why not?”
“I can’t. They’d throw me in the guard house.” And he had no wish to see her any more than he had to.
Clucking her tongue, she whined, “I think you’re makin’ excuses. You just been leadin’ me on.”
Frowning, he turned back to the chickens. He hadn’t led her anywhere, but now she seemed to want to lead him where he didn’t want to go. “The school has very strict rules.”
Her laugh came in a single huff. “What do you care about rules? You’re an Injun.”
He almost laughed. Unable to fathom that Lakota had their own laws, ignorant wasichu assumed tribes followed no law at all. “I must go.” His quick strides took him to the door in seconds.
Oddly, his senses sharpened when she didn’t follow, but stood clutching the cup, full but no longer steaming.
****
Since the dance, William’s ready smile sent a chill through Rose. A reminder of Samuel’s cruel nature. She would have thought him incapable of such thoughtlessness. The other night proved her wrong.
On the way to class, William passed close. “Good morning, Rose.”
“Hello.” The smile she mustered faded quickly.
“Are you well?”
“No.” Not entirely a lie. “These tight shoes still hurt my feet.”
He chuckled. “I shouldn’t have made you dance so often.”
She stiffened. He had no power to make her dance, and for him to take credit for her sore feet was ludicrous. “They hurt no matter what.” Must he bring up that night at every opportunity?
“I was going to ask you to take a walk later, but I suppose you can’t.”
“I have three piano lessons this afternoon, and rehearsals tonight for the musical.” Miss Mather had prepared an article for the school newspaper about the program for a Quaker group.
So much to keep up with, Rose hardly had time to think, but sometimes—like now—her thoughts would not be ignored.
Much as she’d balked earlier at her mother’s advice, Rose wanted nothing more than to speak with her now. Tears pricked at her eyes remembering her mother’s warm smile, her soft voice. So many times, she’d wished to again feel her mother’s embrace, always at the ready.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” William’s bewildered tone reminded her: she was trapped here, far away from her parents and her home.
“I said my feet hurt!” she sobbed, and ran up the steps, glad for the distraction of classwork.
****
Over the next few days, Samuel went about his chores without interruption, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end whenever he worked outside. If he glanced toward the house, Effie stood at the window, watching. Her keen attention indicated he still occupied her thoughts. That she kept her distance made him uneasy. A change in tack meant something else had changed. But what?
Between hurting Rose and raising Effie’s interest, Samuel had become trapped in a web of trouble. No matter what he did, any step would lead in the wrong direction. The only thing he could do was keep to himself. With the exception of the dog, Beau, whose presence calmed Samuel.
By the third morning, Effie no longer appeared in the window. He breathed easier without her constant watchfulness. He had little tolerance for her foolishness, but being alone allowed him to stash away more items. When he’d need them, he had no idea, but wanted to prepare ahead. Most likely, he’d have to leave in a hurry and wouldn’t have time to change, but he wouldn’t be able to travel in a school uniform—it would draw police faster than he could run. Mr. Miller had thrown away a tattered coat, so Samuel grabbed it from the pile of trash before the farmer could burn it. A pair of old overalls and a shirt, he snuck from the laundry line. By rolling them tight, they fit behind a loose board in the back wall of the barn. Like a medicine bag, he’d touch them occasionally, to remind himself he had only to bide his time. Someday he’d have enough money to leave.
Today, he unrolled them to place a hunting knife in the center. Another student had given it to him after a teacher warned him to get rid of it. Students were forbidden to own such weapons, basic utensils for a Lakota but here, apparently a threat to wasichu.
Each time he touched the clothes, he thought of Rose. Leaving her behind would be the most difficult thing he’d ever done. With sadness, he replaced the stash behind the wall and stood.
“Samuel.” The farmer’s gruff voice cut above the hens’ soft clucks.
Started, Samuel froze, thinking Miller had seen him.
Frowning, he approached. Nothing unusual. Miller had no smile for anyone.
“I’ll be needin’ your help repairing some things around here.”
So he hadn’t seen. Samuel let out a breath. “What sort of repairs?”
“The wall there—you already seen how bad that is. A few places in the roof, too. The rain’s been comin’ in. Can’t have it spoilin’ the hay.” Miller met his gaze finally. “You ever work with wood?”
For once, Samuel could say he had. “Yes sir. At school.”
The farmer’s face brightened. “Good. I’ll let you climb up on the roof. I’d end up fallin’ off and breakin’ my back.”
Better to let a Lakota fall from the roof? Plenty of other students would step up to take Samuel’s place. He said nothing. He would keep saving every penny.
****
Despite missing Samuel, Rose found his absence in the classroom allowed her to better focus on her studies. No longer did she worry about what he would think or say if she made a response. If the teacher sent her to the blackboard, Rose didn’t hesitate. Without any distractions, she was freer to make mistakes and not feel shamed.
Some of the other girls found it difficult to speak in class because boys were there. Rose had no such difficulty. She found it easier to speak her mind at the school.
From the moment Miss Mather had visited their camp, Rose knew white women could rise to positions of power. She and Miss Ely encouraged Rose to work hard at her studies.
She wanted to learn, wanted to be one of the best students. Not to wield power over anyone. Though she wasn’t yet sure why it was important, she sensed someday her education would be useful.
****
Repairs to the roof took Samuel two days. When Mr. Miller asked him to next fix the inside of the barn, Samuel worked first in the front. For days, he’d wracked his brain wondering where to find a new hiding place for the clothes he’d hidden. The loft might be the only option, but Samuel feared Miller would find them. He’d ask questions, not only of Samuel but of the school. And then his plans would be shattered.
With careful precision, he aligned the new boards to replace the rotted old ones. Miller grunted his satisfaction and gave up supervising. “I’ll be in the back field awhile. If you need me, yell.”
The farmer hadn’t so much as handed him a nail, so Samuel couldn’t see why he might need him. Nevertheless, he said, “All right.”
Miller called Beau to follow. The dog paused in the doorway, looking back at Samuel.
He’d hate for the farmer to punish the dog. “Go.” Beau trotted out.
The thud of the hammer resounded through the walls. Another might have missed the slow creak of the door opening, but not Samuel. He knew Effie had come in. They hadn’t spoken for more than a week. He hoped she’d regained her senses.
“Hey.” Soft but insistent, her greeting halted his hammering.
Her auburn hair, smoothed and secured with a ribbon, caught the glint of sunlight and shone as if afire. A bad omen.
“Miss Miller.” Formality might make her hesitate before leaping to conclusions.
Scanning his length, her lips parted. “You busy?”
His grip tightened around the hammer’s handle. Whatever she’d come for, it wasn’t business.
“Your father’s asked me to complete this work soon.”
Her eyes wide, she fluttered her lids
. “I miss talkin’ to you.”
“I’ve been here every day.” But glad not to have to hear her nonsense.
“I know, but you were mad at me, so I…” She sniffed.
His tension turned to frustrated despair at her false tears. “No, please.” Please stop and go away.
“Oh, Samuel. I had such a wonderful time that night. I don’t understand why you didn’t.”
“I never said I didn’t.” Had the girl nothing else to occupy her thoughts?
“Then what? Don’t you like me?”
“It’s not that.”
“Tell me.” She pressed against him, clutching his shirt. Her eyes sparkled clear green like the stream where he’d caught fish to impress Quiet Thunder. The stream where he played his flute to entrance her. The memory rushed at him, flooded his senses. Without thinking, his hands tightened on her shoulders.
She flicked her eyes wide, mouth open in a smile.
Too late, he recognized that she mistook his hold on her for desire, but before he could speak, she pressed closer.
“Oh Samuel.” Her breath smelled of stale coffee. Springing to tiptoe, her lips reached for his.
“No.” Instinctively, he pushed her away.
Just as quickly, she flung herself at him again. “But I love you.”
“You don’t know me.” Disgust repulsed him.
“I want to,” was her husky reply, and her fingers worked his buttons.
“Stop.”
The door banged open. Miller charged in.
Effie gasped and jerked away, clutching the open neck of her dress.
Terror struck Samuel. When had she undone her own buttons?
“What the hell is going on? Effie, get back to the house.”
“But Pa—”
“I said go! Now, girl,” he blasted, then turned his glare on Samuel. “And you, you filthy Injun—”
“I did nothing.” Despite the school’s training not to respond to reprimands, he couldn’t allow the farmer to believe the lie. The trap that Effie had set, and caught him in.
“Only ‘cause I didn’t give you a chance. Now get the hell outta my sight. I ever see you within a mile of my place—or my Effie, anywhere—I’ll shoot you.”
Straightening his shirt, Samuel strode to the door. “What about my wages for this week?”
Miller spat. “You’re lucky I’m sparin’ your life, boy. Now git!”
Rage flared up, but Samuel held it in check.
At seeing his anger, the farmer tensed, and glanced to the side where his rifle sat out of reach.
The dog whined, looking from Miller to Samuel.
If Samuel made a move, any move, the man could claim he attacked. Holding up a hand, he said, “I’ll go.”
Miller visibly shuddered. “You bet you will,” he croaked, and relief crossed his face.
A sense of pity washed over Samuel when he turned. At least he could walk away from Effie. Miller had to put up with her until she married.
Chapter Eight
The dining hall bustled with students taking their places at tables. Rose had no appetite, and picked at her green beans and rice. Most days, she had to pretend not to notice Samuel. Today she had no need to pretend. He was nowhere to be seen.
William sat beside her with a smug smile.
Her gut twisted. “What is it?” If she knew William, he had some secret.
“I have some news.” He flicked open the napkin and smoothed it across his lap. “About our friend Samuel.”
Sadness pricked at her. Rose would like to have called Samuel a friend, if nothing else. Lately, he was no more than a ghost, slipping across campus, in and out of the buildings like a shadow. Never so much as a glance in her direction.
Feigning disinterest so William wouldn’t tease her and withhold anything, she asked, “Oh?”
Too loudly, he said, “Samuel shamed the school. The farmer Miller threw him off his land.”
Rose kept her indignation to herself. No longer did William speak of shame to the tribe, or to Lakota. Only to the school. Always the school. As if he had no other allegiance. Not even to old friends.
“Why? Black Bear works hard.”
William smirked. “Oh, the farmer liked his work well enough. But not his play.”
Chuckles erupted from the other students at the table. Everyone but her, apparently, already knew the story.
“What are you talking about?” Exasperation edged her tone.
“The farmer caught Samuel and his daughter in the barn.”
“What?” Her throat constricted. It couldn’t be true. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why not? You saw him with her at the dance. They looked a bit too well acquainted to me.”
So that’s who she was—the daughter of his employer. Such a foolish thing, to involve himself with her. Careless. Not like Black Bear. But then, he wasn’t. He was Samuel.
William continued recounting the incident, but Rose couldn’t listen. It turned her stomach.
“Excuse me.” She set her napkin atop her plate.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t feel well.” She stood and headed for the exit.
“Rose, you’re supposed to wait for the guard to call for lineup. You know that.” William stared accusingly.
“You’re the guard. Give me a pass.” Normally she wouldn’t ask favors, but the roof stifled her. She had to get out. And away from him.
After a moment’s hesitation, he blew out a breath. “All right. Here.”
“Thank you.” She took the slip he offered. Before he could make any further argument, she fled down the hall and outside.
Rounding the side of the building, the sight of Samuel escorted by a guard halted her.
Though he headed away, he glanced back as if he sensed her presence. The moment his gaze met hers, her breath stopped. The world stopped. A blaze lit his dark eyes as it had back home, when they’d spoken of their future. In that moment, he was Black Bear, his spirit reaching for hers.
The future that lay in ruins.
The memory of that time flashed vividly as a storm, striking her twice as sharply. A cry escaped, and she heard it as if from a distance.
The guard shoved Samuel up the steps of the main building where the administrative offices were housed. He tripped, breaking away his gaze.
Again, he was Samuel. In trouble for being with a farmer’s daughter.
No longer hers.
The loss came back on her, crushing her spirit.
Losing him once caused enough pain. To relieve it again and again seemed too much for one person to bear.
****
Stumbling onto the porch, Samuel silently cursed the guard. The strict atmosphere of the school made it difficult to breathe. He couldn’t think straight, especially after seeing Rose. If anyone believed him innocent, she would. But the hurt on her face revealed she’d heard about the incident, and her glare became accusing. Like everyone else in this awful place, Rose had turned against him.
The guard pushed him through the entrance into the hallway. At the second door, the guard knocked.
Samuel glanced across the corridor. His pictograph sat inside a glass display case, pages open to the illustrations of his paint horse and a sketch of a buffalo hunt. The images seared into him like fire, burning him with the intense desire to return to their origin. To relive them, make them real again. Life on the reservation had taken on a haze, clouded by a veil of mist separating two disparate worlds.
He couldn’t stay here; that much he knew. But could he go back there? It seemed impossible, and he was caught in that mist between the two, neither here nor there. Nowhere.
From inside the office, Assistant Superintendent Standing called, “Enter.”
The guard thrust open the door, and shoved Samuel through it. “Here he is. Samuel Black Bear, at your request, sir.”
Mr. Standing saluted the guard, who returned the gesture.
The assistant superintendent heaved a lo
ng breath. “Ah yes, thank you. Wait outside.” To Samuel, he said, “Take a seat.” The man leaned back in his hair, studying him.
Samuel sat stiffly in the wooden seat.
“Mr. Miller paid me a visit.”
Bracing himself, Samuel waited for the inevitable. The farmer had wasted no time in making his case against him. Or maybe in asking for a replacement. Miller had done little of his own work since hiring Samuel.
Mr. Standing frowned. “I’m very disappointed, Samuel. More than that. Distressed. Dismayed.”
Did the man have any emotions not beginning with the letter D? Samuel repressed a laugh. A completely inappropriate laugh. It might fill the assistant superintendent with dread. A dire emotion. He pressed his lips tightly.
The official’s eyes twitched. He must have picked up on Samuel’s indifference. And found it daunting.
“I sincerely hope you find no humor in this situation. It’s extremely serious.”
“I understand. But I did nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?” His voice rose. “Nothing wrong? Maybe where you come from, seducing a young girl isn’t wrong.”
“I didn’t—”
“Quiet! Mr. Miller’s a respected member of the Carlisle community. His daughter’s honor and reputation are at stake.”
Samuel deadened his emotions. The farmer never went to church, didn’t like his neighbors—and they didn’t like Miller. He had no friends, but spent many an evening at the bar. Respected might not be the best description, and by her actions, he guessed Effie had ruined her own honor long ago, but Samuel knew better than to argue.
Standing’s lecture went on, detailing why Samuel had been entrusted with the job, but now the school would not be able to trust him with anything.
Little of it penetrated. Samuel had better things to think about.
Only when the superintendent’s tone turned vicious did Samuel allow the words in.
“I’m tired of you boys sullying the reputation of this fine institution with careless acts. Let me tell you, I won’t stand for it. As punishment, you’ll be confined to the guardhouse for three days.”
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