by Linda Bridey
Marcus’ sobs were quiet but powerful, and Claire shook with each jerky movement. Tears of sympathy fell from her eyes and dampened his shirt. They’d been travelling on the main road for a while before Marcus turned left down another road that led to his house. His crying was spent by that time.
He sighed and patted her hands. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” A wild idea started in her mind. “Marcus, take me to meet your other family.”
Marcus sat up straighter at that. “No, Claire. You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
Marcus thought about it for a moment and decided to test her. “Well, I guess you should meet them if you’re going to marry me.”
Claire raised her head from his back. “You still want to marry me?”
“I told you I was going to keep my end of the bargain. You tried your best for me. It’s not your fault that Dean wouldn’t listen,” Marcus said.
“But won’t that be awkward?” Claire asked.
Marcus shook his head. “No. Just because I can’t go to the ranch anymore doesn’t mean that you can’t. I’ll teach you how to ride a horse or we’ll get a buggy and I’ll teach you how to drive it so you can go see everyone.”
Claire frowned. “You would do that?”
“Yes,” Marcus said. “They’re still your family. Dean kicked me out, not you. And don’t try to be a martyr or noble and think that you shouldn’t see them just because I can’t.”
She could hear the sincerity in his voice and said. “All right. Now take me to meet your other family.”
“You’re really sure?”
Claire pinched him.
“Hey! Knock it off! Okay, we’ll go,” Marcus said. “Don’t be afraid of them. They’re just like us except they wear less clothing. And they sit around a fire. And they live in tipis.”
“I know all that. I’m not completely ignorant of Indians, Marcus,” she snapped.
He smiled at her irritated tone. “There’s the Claire I know.”
“Do you miss her?”
Marcus was confused. “Who? The other Claire?”
“No, dummy. Redtail. Do you miss her?” Claire said.
“Is ‘dummy’ going to be your pet name for me? Because that’s what you keep calling me,” Marcus said.
“Answer the question, Marcus.”
Marcus could tell it was important to her and that she wasn’t going to let go. “Yes. It’s complicated, though. We spent a lot of, um, private time together and she was a lot of fun to be around. She was kind and generous. We were friends and lovers. I didn’t see her all the time because her clan wintered pretty far south, so I only saw her in the summers.”
Claire said, “I see. Did you see other Indian women?”
Marcus figured he might as well be honest with her. “Yes, and I also saw white women. Do you want to know how many of each?” he asked with sarcasm in his voice.
“No, of course not,” Claire answered.
“Good, because I lost count of both,” Marcus said, tongue in cheek.
“That many?”
“Not so many.” He started getting annoyed. “I don’t really know, Claire. How many men have you been with?”
She mumbled something into his back.
“What?”
She just groaned.
“Claire, it’s not fair for me to tell you all my personal business if you don’t reciprocate,” he said. “It’s poor form.”
“Don’t you tell me about poor form,” she said in a sharp tone. “I said ‘none’. I’ve never…done that.”
He patted her hands again and said, “That’s okay. We’ll fix that.”
She picked her head up and said, “What?”
“You know, for someone who’s so smart you sure are dumb,” Marcus said. Then he made a face. That was something that Dean and Seth had often said to him. He pushed thoughts of his brothers from his mind and concentrated on the current conversation.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t you want children, Claire? I’d like to have more,” Marcus said.
Claire hadn’t given serious thought to the matter of making children. She chastised herself for not having realized that he would want children. He was right; she really was stupid when it came to relationships between men and women.
“I’m assuming you know how that happens,” Marcus said. He couldn’t resist baiting her.
“Yes, I know!”
Marcus laughed and turned into the woods. Claire clutched him and asked, “Where are we going?”
“To my family’s camp. It’s down this trail.”
“But we’re in the woods,” she said.
“How very astute of you, darlin’.”
She pinched him again.
He grabbed her hands and squeezed hard. “You do that again and I’m going to make you get off and leave you to find your way home.”
Claire looked around at the black night and said, “Please don’t.”
“You promise you’ll behave?”
Fear of being alone in the dark forest overshadowed her annoyance with him. Plus, she knew he wasn’t going to release his painful grip on her hands if she didn’t agree. “Yes.”
He let go of her hands and they rode in silence for a while. Claire felt Rosie tip forward as they headed down a steeper part of the trail. She hung on to Marcus tighter and he grunted.
“Lean back a little,” he said and pushed her with his own body, forcing her to do what he wanted. “We have to help Rosie keep her balance.”
Claire shifted her weight back slightly even though she was terrified of falling off. Soon the trail leveled out again and they shifted upright again. Marcus stopped and Claire felt him draw in breath. A hoot owl sounded close by and it took her a moment to realize that Marcus had made the sound. There was an answer in the form of a night hawk. Claire jumped at the sound and Marcus squeezed her thigh and said, “It’s okay. It’s just my brother, Owl.”
“His name is ‘Owl’?”
“Yeah. He’s on sentry tonight. What did you expect his name to be, Bob or Tom?”
“No,” she barely restrained herself from pinching him again. “Do you have an Indian name?”
“Yep. Silver Ghost.”
Claire thought that sounded very romantic. “I like that. Why is that your name?” she asked as they started moving again.
“Because of my eye color and the fact that I’m very good at moving silently,” Marcus answered.
“I see,” Claire responded. Claire saw that the trail was getting brighter and raised her head and tried to look around his shoulder. “I can’t see.”
“You will in about a minute,” Marcus said.
True to his word, they rode out into a huge clearing in a few moments. Claire saw Indians everywhere. Tall tipis dotted the land and numerous fires burned in front of them. Claire had never seen an Indian before, and felt afraid as she looked around. All she knew was what she’d read in books about them.
Marcus hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they didn’t wear as many clothes. Most of the men wore loincloths that left much of their bodies bare. The women wore dresses that reached only about mid-thigh. The men and even a few of the women she saw looked fierce and wild. She tried not so show it, but they scared the bejesus out of her. What had she been thinking when she’d insisted that Marcus bring her here?
Black Fox appeared beside Rosie and Claire jumped a little. Marcus laughed. “Relax, Claire. This is Black Fox. He’s one of my other brothers. Hello, brother.”
Claire was shocked when Black Fox spoke in English. “Hello, brother. Is this your pen pal?”
Claire looked into Black Fox’s face and saw humor dancing in his eyes. “You know who I am?”
“Yes. You are Claire. Writer of annoying letters,” Black Fox said with a laugh.
“Claire, you can let go of me now. Black Fox, can you help her down?” Marcus asked. “She’s not very experienced with riding horses and her l
egs are probably stiff by now.”
Claire loosened her arms from around Marcus’s waist and shrank back a little from Black Fox. The Indian noticed her movement but patiently held out his hands. Claire looked into his night-black eyes and something in them made her trust him. She leaned forward and put her hands on his shoulders much the same as she had with Marcus, and felt Black Fox lift her from the horse.
As he set her down, Claire’s legs threatened to buckle. Black Fox hung on until she felt steady. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Black Fox said. In Lakota he said to Marcus, “Your white woman is pretty. With her brown hair and long legs, she reminds me of a fawn. That should be her Indian name.”
Marcus climbed down from Rosie and started slipping the cradleboard from Claire’s shoulders. “Okay, but let’s ask her if she likes it.” To Claire he said, “Black Fox says you look like a pretty fawn and that ‘fawn’ should be your Indian name.”
Claire smiled. “Really?”
“I think she likes it,” Black Fox said in English. “Fawn it is. Now you must say it in Lakota, pretty Fawn. Thingleska.”
Claire tried it and got it fairly well on the second try.
Black Fox was impressed. “She is smart, like you said.”
Claire looked at Marcus. “You told him I’m smart?”
Marcus shot his big brother an annoyed look. “Great. Now she’s not going to let me forget it.”
Claire gave him a whack on the stomach and Black Fox laughed harder. “Fawn has spirit, too. I like her.”
“Thank you,” Claire said. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Black Fox’s brow furrowed and he looked at Marcus who translated. “I see. Thank you.”
Marcus lifted Aiyana from the cradleboard and handed her to Black Fox, who took her easily. He was used to handling children. Then Marcus helped Claire get the cradleboard off her back. She hadn’t realized it, but her shoulders were aching and she rolled them to loosen the knots in them.
“You’ll get used to the weight and build up your muscles so it’ll be easier to carry,” Marcus assured her.
Claire didn’t answer, because several children ran up to encircle Marcus. They talked excitedly to him and pointed at Claire. Marcus knelt down and spoke to them. She heard her Indian name and could only assume that he was telling them who she was. She smiled at them. They were so sweet and of different ages, she noted.
She watched Marcus with them and saw how at ease he was with children. As they exchanged words, suddenly they all attacked him and he went down under a pile of small brown arms and legs. His rich laughter rang out and mingled with theirs.
Black Fox stood with Aiyana in his arms and looked on as Claire watched Marcus and the kids. She laughed as Marcus tried to get up and the group of eight children pulled him back down. Black Fox smiled; he could see why Marcus would be attracted to her, even if Marcus didn’t want to admit that he was.
“It is always like this,” he told Claire. “He is good with them. A favorite uncle.”
“I can see why,” Claire said. “Here, I’ll take Aiyana.”
Black Fox handed the baby to Claire and watched as she shifted her to her hip. “You look good with a baby.”
Claire was pleased. “Thank you.”
Another Indian came up to them and spoke to Black Fox and gestured at Claire. This Indian was shorter than Black Fox and seemed a little more serious. Black Fox answered and then turned to Claire.
“This is He Who Runs.”
Claire remembered the name Marcus had said at Dean and Tessa’s. “You’re Marcus’ other brother.” She looked right at He Who Runs as she said it.
“Yes. And you are Claire, the pen pal,” He Who Runs said in English.
A flicker of annoyance passed across Claire’s face and Black Fox laughed. “I don’t think she likes that name. She likes Fawn better.”
“Yes, I do,” Claire agreed.
Aiyana grabbed handful of her hair and yanked. “Ow!” Claire said, and the baby laughed.
Claire extracted her hair from her grip and kissed Aiyana’s tiny hand. “You are so precious.”
Marcus was allowed to get up and was breathless from tussling with eight kids. “Thanks,” he said, in response to her remark.
“Not you, dummy. The baby.”
“There you go with ‘dummy’ again,” he said with a frown.
He Who Runs chuckled and said, “I think ‘dummy’ is good.”
Marcus glared at Claire. “Thanks.”
She gave him a saccharine-sweet smile. “You’re welcome, Silver Ghost.”
He Who Runs turned serious and switched to Lakota when he asked, “So did you talk to your other family?”
Claire watched Marcus’ face go from smiling to incredibly sad in an instant. He shook his head and walked off. Both braves looked at Claire for an explanation.
Chapter Eleven
Claire stared after Marcus as he disappeared from view, and then looked at his brothers. Their expressions were fierce and she swallowed in sudden apprehension. “Um, it didn’t go well,” she said. “He’s very upset about it.”
He Who Runs just snorted and followed Marcus.
Claire looked up at Black Fox and said, “I’m so sorry.”
“It is what we expected. It is a shame. They are lucky to have him,” Black Fox said.
“I know.” Claire said, and tried to see where Marcus had gone.
“You love him.” Black Fox said.
Claire couldn’t believe that Black Fox could read her so well after just meeting her. Black Fox was right. The truth was that she’d been in love with Marcus since they’d met three years ago. There was no use denying it to Black Fox. She hesitantly looked at him as she nodded.
“But you are too scared to tell him,” Black Fox said.
“Yes. Please don’t say anything to him.” Her voice was only a whisper.
Black Fox looked into Claire’s eyes and wondered why he should feel a kinship with this white woman who had irritated Marcus for so long. “It is not for me to tell. It is your secret.”
She smiled at him in relief. “Thank you.”
Black Fox motioned for her to follow him. He stopped in front of a tipi and spoke to a woman there. To Claire he said, “This is my wife, Wind Spirit.”
“Hello, Wind Spirit,” Claire said.
The other woman was beautiful with her long black hair and dark eyes. “Hello, Fawn,” she said, and smiled at Claire. “Come and sit. Would you like some tea?”
“I’d love some,” Claire said, and then wondered where she was going to sit. There were no chairs.
Wind Spirit sensed her predicament. “Your dress is beautiful, but too long and will make it difficult for you to sit. Come with me.”
Claire was curious as she followed Wind Spirit into the tipi she shared with Black Fox and their two children. There were four sleeping pallets and various containers sitting around the edges of the tipi in an organized fashion. Different colored bags of all sizes made of deer and cowhides hung from the support poles. A hole in the top of the tipi let out smoke when there was a fire going inside.
Wind Spirit went over to a large basket woven from reeds and other materials. She opened it and pulled out some kind of garment. She brought it over to Claire and said, “Put this on. You will be more comfortable.”
The dress was beautiful, Claire thought as she studied it. There was an intricate pattern of quills and beads across the front and the bottom and sleeves were edged with fringes. Claire reached out and touched it. It was incredibly soft.
“I couldn’t possibly take it. I don’t want to take your clothes,” Claire said.
Wind Spirit smiled. “I have plenty. My husband keeps me well supplied with hides. Please take it. It is rude to refuse a gift in our culture.”
The last thing Claire wanted to do was offend Marcus’ family. “All right. Thank you.”
Wind Spirit nodded. She took Aiyana from Claire and left the tipi. She
closed the flap of skin that covered the doorway to give Claire privacy while she changed. Claire took off her dress and layers of petticoats. She stood in her bloomers and realized that she was going to have to take them off in order to wear the Indian dress.
Claire had never worn a dress that left so much of her skin bare. She was torn between propriety and fitting in with this people’s culture. Finally she decided on the latter and took everything off and quickly put on the Indian dress. It fit her well, but left her feeling exposed. As she walked towards the door of the tipi, Claire had to admit that there was a kind of freedom in not being encumbered by so many clothes.
She took a breath and opened the flap and walked out. Marcus had returned and saw her emerge from the tipi. His breath caught as he watched her walk self-consciously towards the fire. His eyes started at her long, beautiful legs and traveled up over her curvy hips and full bosom. She had taken her hair down and it flowed over her shoulders, and the firelight brought out those gold and red highlights that he’d seen earlier that day.
Claire looked at him shyly and waited to see what he would say. She watched his gaze roam over her body and she could almost feel it caress her. A fire ignited in his eyes and turned them silver in the firelight. He gave her a slightly lewd smile that told her he liked what he saw. She smiled back at him and then dropped her gaze.
Marcus came to her and said, “You are a wikhoskalaka. A beautiful young woman.”
“Thank you,” Claire said, and knew he could see her blush. She’d never had any man other than Geoff tell her she was beautiful. He was her father and would tell her that no matter what. But to have Marcus tell her that bolstered her confidence and made her feel womanly.
“Black Fox is right. You have pretty legs,” Marcus told her.
Claire’s eyes got big and she looked over at Black Fox, who shrugged and said, “It is true.”