Dance with Destiny

by Becky Lower

  The wood pile dwindled with each passing day and she never found the time to replenish what she used. She guessed they'd have to forage further into the woods to look for some more downed timber soon. Another chore to add to her never-ending list. She picked up the axe with a sigh. Roiling stomach aside, there was work to be done before her children could have dinner. William may not place any importance on her children having a decent meal, but Susannah did. Again, she cursed her husband, under her breath. With each breath. Until she ran out of breath. Then, she tossed a small log against the house, where it bounced off with a satisfying plop.

  Oh, she couldn't wait for him to get back here. She might be angry now, but her anger would dissipate the minute he walked up the mountain and she held him in her arms again. There would be so much to talk about–the new baby coming, the way their children had grown and become more responsible in his absence, the way she waged war all summer between pride and anger at him. She'd collapse into his arms and make passionate love to him until neither of them could speak. And he’d never leave her again.

  ♥•♥•♥

  Lone Wolf made no sound as he made his way out of the woods and stood in the shelter of the side of the barn. His senses were alerted to the smallest sound, but all that reached his ears were the chirping of the birds and other forest creatures as they nestled for the night. He had an armload of wood from the forest floor and his destination was the pitiful woodpile by the side of the house. He had to hone his Indian training and not make a sound. The woman had spotted him earlier, or at least sensed his presence. It unnerved her enough that she brought out a shotgun and placed it within reach by her side for the remainder of the day. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake from her exhausted sleep and start shooting, when all he was trying to do was help the family out a bit. His feet, in their moccasins, made no noise as he made his way to the stack of wood.

  He approached the side of the house, which fortunately had no windows. He placed the wood a piece at a time onto the pile without making a sound, blending back into the shadows as soon as he could. He had gathered up enough for another armload, but left it by the little path leading to the pasture. Maybe the girl would see it tomorrow on her trip up with the cow and take it down to the house. He didn't want to take the chance on being discovered by making more than one trip a night. If she did not see the stack of wood, he would make another trip to the pile tomorrow night. And every night after that, until the pile was respectable again.

  His mind was filled with the woman and her numerous children as he returned to the cave. Where was her man? If he had been on a hunt, he'd be back by now. In the Indian camp, women did most of the work around camp, and men hunted and went to war to protect their territory. Was her man protecting his territory? If so, from what?

  Only after he arrived back at his cave and had his own dinner, did he put the pieces together. This was the same woman he’d locked eyes with in town a month or so ago. When she took off her bonnet, she also resembled the woman from a vision he had experienced before leaving the Ojibwa camp. He had been fascinated by her light hair, drawn to her coloring, as he crouched in the tall grass under the trees. Her hair was plaited into a braid that ended at her waist, and was a very pale blonde color, almost white. Tendrils had come loose from the braid as she worked, and danced around her face. Could she be the same fair-haired woman his grandfather had seen in his vision, too, before advising his grandson it was time for him to leave their camp? The one who his grandfather declared was part of his future? His puzzled thoughts followed him as he lay on the deerskin.

  The cave was cool, unlike the very warm air outside, even at night, making for pleasant sleeping conditions. In the half-state between wakefulness and sleep, Lone Wolf had a vision of the light-haired woman, her belly ripe with child. His child? He shook himself out of his stupor and propped himself up on his elbows. He rubbed a hand over his eyes with cold fingers and tried to calm his chaotic stomach.

  His teeth gritted together as he replayed the vision. "No, never again!" He ripped off his shirt and flung it across the room as he yelled into the darkness.

  Yes, he would admit to a curiosity about this woman and her children and why there was no man around. And, since he had nothing better to do with himself this summer, he was willing to help out in any way he could without being discovered. But he wanted no part of getting another woman to carry his child. He had killed off the love of his life by doing so once. He would never again place another woman in harm's way. Yet, he could not let go of the feeling the fair-haired woman was the reason he had been led here.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "Hannah, where did the wood come from?" Susannah took some of the wood from the handful her daughter had brought down from the pasture and they both added logs to the pile. The small log house glistened in the morning dew.

  "Along the path to the pasture. I found it when I took Bossy up this morning. There's still more there, so I'll go back and get it now.”

  "But we've cleaned all the wood from the sides of the path long ago. Where did this come from? Did a tree fall down?"

  "I didn’t see any downed tree, just the branches. It was just there, is all, near the path."

  "Well, we'll take it. Our supply of wood is getting low." Susannah glanced over at the woodpile, which seemed to have grown slightly overnight. It must be her imagination. Susannah scrubbed her hand over her eyes and then peered at the pile more closely. Surely, the morning sickness was making her delusional. There were no magic fairies in the woods to help lighten her load. She followed Hannah back up the path for the rest of the wood.

  It took two more trips for them to finish their task. The woodpile was looking more respectable now, but they used so much every day, Susannah constantly worried about whether they'd have enough. And winter wasn't that far away. They needed a stockpile in order to survive the cold. Ah, well, she'd do what she could. And William would be back in time to make certain there was wood aplenty to get them through the long, cold months ahead.

  Susannah made a mental list of this morning's chores. Once she got breakfast out of the way, she needed to go to the barn and clean the tack. Jacob kept the barn fairly clean, but he lost all patience when it came to cleaning and conditioning the leather tack. Susannah had noticed some breaks starting in the leather and the last thing they needed was to pay for a replacement. They had fields to get plowed and the horse was a huge help. But only if he could be led.

  Her already crowded checklist of chores got interrupted mid-morning when Sully pulled up in front of the house. The harness bells he’d attached to the mule announced his arrival long before he got up the mountain. Susannah's stomach fluttered, partially from her morning sickness, but also because she feared whatever news Sully was bringing up the mountain. It surely couldn’t be good. People around these parts were too busy to just drop by and visit. Sully had something on his mind, and Susannah was fairly certain she didn't want to hear it.

  "Good day to you, Susannah," Sully said as he easily climbed down from the buckboard. His large frame and beard made him appear fearsome, but Susannah was familiar enough with him to be comfortable in his presence.

  "The same to you. What brings you up into the mountains this morning?"

  "Joanna Harvey went into labor last night."

  Susannah smiled at the thought of another baby in the community. "So you've come to share the news? Did she have the girl she wanted so badly?"

  Sully cleared his throat and Susannah's shoulders knotted. Sully wasn't bringing good news. Why did she always have to be right?

  "That's just it. She's still in labor. We need your help."

  "I'm not a midwife, Sully. Where is Myrtle?"

  "She's gone across the river to help someone. Probably won't be back until tomorrow. If Joanna still hasn't delivered by tomorrow, I fear for both her and the babe. You've had enough children to be of assistance. Please, come with me now."

  Susannah brushed her hand over her braid
and bit her lip hard, tasting the coppery blood. She feared for Joanna if she didn't go to her, yet she had her own life and those of her children to consider. "I'll have to bring my children with me. I can't leave them here alone."

  "The youngest one only, Susannah. You can't care for Joanna if you have to tend to your own children at the same time. Hannah's big enough to take care of the other two while you're gone."

  Susannah put her hand to her head. Dear Lord, Hannah had enough to do already without adding this to her burdens. But so did she. Susannah wanted to spit in Sully's eye for even coming here. For assuming she was a fit fill-in midwife. For imposing. Then, she thought about Joanna, a first-time mother, a sweet, helpful young woman and the panic she must be feeling. She sighed. Sully had a better gauge on her feelings than she did herself. She'd leave with him.

  "Give me a few minutes to tell the children what to do, and let me gather some things that might help with the delivery. Then, we'll be off."

  She left Hannah with instructions on what needed to be done, and what to cook for dinner. The chicken would live another day. With a feeble hope that Joanna would have delivered the baby by the time she and Sully got back to town, she and baby George rode off with him.

  ♥•♥•♥

  The young girl had been in charge of the house all day. Lone Wolf followed her movements, surprised that she never once slacked from her work, or complained. Her tiny body was constantly in motion. She churned the butter, made lunch for everyone, weeded the garden, took care of the littlest girl, and walked up the hill in the late afternoon to bring the cow to the barn for milking and to be sheltered for the night. Once she started up the path to retrieve the cow, Lone Wolf followed, making his way silently through the woods to the pasture, his long strides outpacing her.

  When she finally got to the pasture, she checked on the water bucket in the shed. Then she came out from behind the lean-to and stared into the forest, searching. Her eyes locked on him and he once again held his breath.

  "You might as well come out from the woods, Injun, now that I’ve seen you."

  Without a word of protest, he emerged from the dense foliage and leapt over the fence into the pasture. She took a step back, but stood her ground as she stared up at him.

  "So, you understand English. Do you speak it, too?"

  "Yes." His voice sounded harsh to him, but it had been months since he'd talked to anyone other than his horse.

  "You're not a very good Injun, since I could tell you were in the woods the day you stole some milk from me."

  He nodded solemnly. "I figured you were a smart enough girl to put it together."

  "What I can’t figure out is why you would do something so foolish. And did you leave the wood by the path for me to find?"

  Again, he nodded.

  "Why?"

  "Because I was thirsty, and you were running low on wood."

  "Are you still thirsty?"

  He could not keep his lips in a straight line. They curved up at her question.

  "I am. But your family needs every drop of milk, so after the first time I found the cow, I have not taken any."

  "Do you live around here?"

  He motioned over his shoulder. "In a cave up in the hills."

  "The big one on the side of the mountain? We went there last year, exploring. But you weren't there then, or we’d have seen you. How did you get here?"

  "I have a horse."

  Her eyes squinted against the setting sun as she stared up at him. "I need to get Bossy to the barn."

  "I will leave."

  "Wait!" She called out to him as he turned his back. He spun around and waited.

  "What's your name?" She held out her small hand to him. "I'm Hannah."

  He crouched down and solemnly took her hand in his. "I am Raoul."

  "That's not an Injun name."

  "My father is a white man. Only my mother is Indian. My Indian name is Lone Wolf." He stood and took a few steps toward the fence.

  "I'll call you Lone Wolf, then. You can have some milk tonight. Mama and the baby aren't here, so there will be extra. I’ll milk Bossy now and put some in the spare bucket in the lean-to."

  "Miigwech. Thank you. I will gather some wood for you while you milk."

  Lone Wolf stayed close to the fence, and could hear the rhythmic sounds of the streams of milk as they hit the bucket. He had gathered up a good armload of wood by the time the noise of the milking stopped and Hannah rose from the side of the cow. She replaced her stool and carried the bucket to the shed. Lone Wolf again climbed over the fence and dropped the wood by the side of the shed.

  Silently, she handed him the pail. He lifted it to his lips and drank the warm, sweet, creamy liquid, relishing the way the milk coated his stomach. He lowered the bucket and handed it back to the girl. She had stood quietly beside him in the shed while he drank the milk, but from the way she squirmed he could tell she was bursting with questions. Finally, she could hold back no longer.

  "Where do you keep your horse?"

  "He is in the meadow in front of the cave."

  "Aren't you afraid he'll run off?"

  "Why should he? Ziigwan led us to this place. It is where we belong, for right now."

  Hannah considered his words for a moment. She caught her lip and chewed on it. "What kind of name is Ziigwan?"

  "It's the Ojibwa word for spring. That was the time of year when he was born. It is also the time of year when we left the camp to come here."

  Lone Wolf leaned up against the shelf in the lean-to. If Hannah wanted to talk, he'd let her. Even though she was only a little thing, he was enjoying the banter.

  "You can put Ziigwan in the pasture with Bossy if you want to."

  "I must pay you back somehow, if I do that."

  "You can keep leaving firewood here, and I'll take it down to the house. It's probably best if no one else sees you."

  "Where is the man of the family?"

  Lone Wolf noticed Hannah's posture as she straightened. "My daddy's off fighting the war. But he's coming back soon."

  "What war is that?"

  "The war against slavery. Haven’t you heard about it?"

  "No. I have not been in this country for long. I have been in Canada, with my grandfather, learning the Indian ways."

  Hannah glanced up at him. "That's where the camp is? The Ojib camp?"

  "Ojibwa. We are a tribe of Indians in Canada and some are here in this country."

  "Oh. Well, I have to be getting back. Mama should be home soon."

  "Are you the only one who comes to the pasture?"

  "Yes. Bossy is my responsibility. That's what Daddy says."

  Lone Wolf straightened up again, and turned to leave. "Then I will bring Ziigwan over here in the morning."

  "And you don't need to hide from me anymore."

  "All right, then. Good night, Hannah."

  As Lone Wolf made his way back to the cave, his steps were light. He had milk in his belly and a friend in the little girl. He might be able to help the family out until their man returned and never come face to face with the light-haired woman. Yet, even as he thought those words, he accepted the fact she was the real reason his journey had ended here and that there would be some dealings with her. At this moment, he had no idea what those dealings might be. His grandfather had a vision of a light-haired woman, as did Lone Wolf before he left the camp. But, as he told his grandfather, he had no use for another woman in his life. He would help lighten her burden until her man returned from fighting, but that would be it. Lone Wolf would be gone by summer’s end.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was almost dark when Sully brought Susannah back to the farm. Joanna's delivery had been arduous and Susannah was more tired than she’d ever been. Joanna finally had her baby, a tiny girl, and the minute Susannah witnessed the joy on Joanna’s face when the baby had been placed in her arms, all the work and tension of the day were made worthwhile. Both mother and daughter were doing as well as could be
expected, and it was past time for Susannah to get back to her own children.

  She and the toddler, George, jumped down from the buckboard as soon as it stopped. The other children came running out from the house to greet them, and Susannah touched each little head to make certain all were accounted for. Her images of tragic events happening to them while she was gone disappeared as she kissed each child. Then, she took a deep breath and turned to Sully.

  "Thanks for bringing us home, Sully. You've got a long ride back, and I doubt you'll make it down the mountain before night falls completely. You're welcome to stay here."

  "No, Susannah, but thanks for the offer. We've imposed on you enough as it is. Without you, Joanna would have died giving birth to that young'un, so thank you for coming to the rescue. This ole mule can pick his way down the mountain blindfolded, so we'll be fine."

  Susannah and the children stood in the yard until Sully could no longer be seen, and the bells on the wagon faded into the night. Then, she corralled them all inside the house and lit a candle.

  "Have you eaten?"

  "Yes, Mama. We already had our dinner, since we weren’t sure if you'd be home tonight or not. We would have waited, otherwise." Hannah stood in front of the wood stove. "Can I fix you a plate of food?"

  Susannah gazed at her. "When did you get so big? I swear, you’re inches taller than you were yesterday. You're growing up way too fast, Hannah. And yes, I'd love some dinner."

  Hannah smiled at her mother’s comments as she plated a meal of cornbread, potatoes, and pork chops and brought it to the table, placing it in front of Susannah. She then put together a plate of bite-sized pork and potatoes for George. Susannah leaned over and kissed Hannah's cheek, touched her long braids. The other children gathered around as well.

  “Tell us about the baby, Mama.”

  Susannah paused before answering. “That baby put up a fight. She didn’t want to be born, and it took a long time to convince her.”