Captivated (Cutter's Creek Book 18)

by Vivi Holt

  She handed him a bowl.

  “Thank you.” He sat beside the children and began to eat.

  Maria wasn’t sure where she should sit, so she did so at a distance, eating quietly and watching the clouds skid by overhead. They were gathering fast and turning dark. She pulled her coat tighter around her as the usual afternoon breeze picked up speed and whistled over the riverbank. It bit at her toes through a hole in the tip of one boot.

  She listened to Bodaway and the children talk. When they’d finished eating, he stood, kissed them each good night and strode toward the chief’s tent without a word to her. She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth together. Did he expect her to put the children to bed as well? How she hated him in that moment, him and all of them. They weren’t her family – they were her captors. Should she care for his children when all she wanted to do was spit in his face?

  She groaned and rubbed her eyes, then gathered up the dirty bowls. She’d wash them after putting the children to bed. “Come, it’s time to sleep.”

  Chepi eyed her warily. “It’s not my bedtime. I can stay up as late as I please.”

  Lonan yawned before narrowing his eyes stubbornly. “Yeah.”

  Maria’s heart pounded, her nostrils flared and she clenched her fists at her sides.

  “I’m tired,” said Impeme, rubbing her fingers over her eyes. She trotted to Maria and lifted her arms high to be picked up.

  The fire faded from Maria’s chest at the sight of her. The toddler’s big brown eyes met Maria’s, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. Sighing, Maria leaned down and lifted the child into her arms. “Then you go to bed,” she said, tickling the little girl beneath the chin.

  Impeme giggled, then laid her head against Maria’s shoulder and pushed two fingers into her mouth, sucking them hard as her eyelids flittered shut. Maria carried her inside the teepee and laid her on the smallest mat. She covered the child with a buffalo hide, then stroked the hair back from her face with one hand.

  “Sing me a song? Papa always sings to me.”

  Maria’s heart skipped a beat. He sang to her? She couldn’t imagine him doing anything that might show a chink in that thick armor of his. “Yes, but I do not know any of your songs. May I sing one of mine?”

  The girl nodded and curled up on her side, slipping her fingers back into her mouth.

  As Maria sang “Rock-a-Bye Baby,” Impeme smiled and was soon asleep. Her fingers fell clear of her mouth and her soft breaths brushed Maria’s arm. Maria stood and watched the child for a few moments. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful snuggled beneath her blankets, as if she could have belonged to any time and place. It almost made Maria forget for a moment where she was, or that she was being held against her will by these wild men, one of whom she now belonged to, was married to.

  Oh God, what is to become of me? Have you forgotten me? I feel so lost, so alone. Please, help me find my way home. Somehow.

  Chapter Six

  Bodaway stroked the pony’s pale snout and tickled its muzzle with his fingertips. The animal snorted and lipped his hand, looking for another turnip. “That’s enough for you,” he said with a laugh. Yarrow always wanted more — he was certain the horse would eat until his sides burst given half a chance. He patted the horse one last time, then set off toward the village. The settlement was lit only by the glow of embers in a few remaining fire pits as they waned and stuttered in the darkness.

  He should retire for the night, but he was afraid to enter his own teepee. He shook his head in shame. How was it that he, the son of the chief, should be too anxious to go into his own home? All because she was there. The wasicu woman called Mariya.

  He frowned, took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. How had it come to this? He’d had no intention of claiming her at the council, but when Anunkasan had spoken for her he’d felt bile rise in his throat. He’d shuddered at the thought of how Anunkasan would treat Mariya given the chance. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself – he was certain she could at least make Anunkasan sorry he’d chosen her for his attentions. But still, he didn’t like to see any creature suffer, and there was something about her that made his pulse quicken.

  Bodaway had grown up with Anunkasan, they’d been childhood friends. They’d played together, wrestled each other, hunted together and become men together. He loved him like a brother, but he was wary of him at the same time. Anunkasan did what he wanted when he wanted and no one could teach him otherwise. He couldn’t be trusted – he’d seen that with his own eyes plenty of times. He could be cruel, and had no love for the English. Even the young women of the village knew to stay out of his way.

  So Bodaway had stepped in. And now he was cowering like a child with the ponies, banished from his own home.

  He chuckled and rubbed a hand over his weary eyes. He’d have to face her sometime, seeing as how she was now his wife. There’d been no ceremony, since she was intended as a replacement of the wife he’d lost. In the tradition of the People they wouldn’t hold a wedding ceremony, instead celebrating their union a year later. But in the eyes of the village, they were now married. He wasn’t sure how much of the exchange she’d understood, but he’d recognized the anger and hatred in her eyes well enough.

  He sighed again, gave the pony one last pat and headed for the teepee with shoulders squared. At least he’d have someone to help care for the children now. That was something he knew he’d needed, but hadn’t had the heart to face since his wife died. He didn’t want another wife, but Mariya was competent enough. He’d witnessed that over the previous months. Hopefully the children would behave well enough with her. So far, at least Impeme had.

  He smiled at the thought of Impeme’s pudgy little face and messy brown hair. Her birth had robbed them of a wife and mother, but she was the single light that lit up the dark aftermath of death. And he was grateful every day for her smiling face.

  Chapter Seven

  The door flaps opened briefly, then swung closed again. Maria lay with her back to the teepee’s doorway, but she knew it was him. Bodaway, her new … guard? Owner? Husband? She scowled at the words that formed in her mind. He was no husband to her, and he certainly didn’t own her – she would make sure he knew that.

  She waited silently, her breath held back by clenched teeth, her entire body quaking.

  She exhaled only when she heard him settle himself on the opposite side of the tent. It seemed he was happy to let things stay as they were for now, and for that she was grateful. Her eyes slipped closed and her mind wandered toward a dream of times past. It had been a long and tiring day and she could fight sleep no longer.

  When she awoke the next morning, Bodaway had already risen. The children woke her with their chatter outside the teepee and she got up with a wide yawn. It would never do for her to be the last to rise every day. She’d have to get used to waking before dawn if she was to beat them. No fire had been lit and the children skipped, laughed and wrestled, no doubt waiting to be fed.

  She found the flint and began building a fire from the wood piled against the side of the teepee. She used it all, so she’d have to replenish the stack later that day.

  As the fire crackled to life, she pressed her hands into the small of her back and stretched out the kinks. She was used to sleeping on hard ground now, but how she missed the crinkle of a straw tick or the softness of a feather mattress. Pillows, too, were a thing she’d never before appreciated the way she should. She rolled her head from side to side.

  The sun rose over the river, sending shards of pink and orange light to dance on the rippling surface of the water. It seemed winter was finally over and spring had come. The snow had recently melted away, and afternoon thunderstorms were now a regular occurrence. She no longer needed to wear her fur cloak the whole day, but still did to cover the tears in her one dress.

  Pemmican for breakfast was something she’d finally become accustomed to; at least her stomach no longer lurched at the sight of it. She fixed some for the chil
dren and for Bodaway, who was still missing. She wondered how often she’d actually have to see him, since he seemed to be gone so much of the time.

  Just then, he strode into view with a bundle in his arms. He stopped where she stood and handed it to her with a half-smile. “For you.” Then he sat by the fire and picked up his bowl to eat with the children.

  She looked at the bundle, her eyes wide. In her arms were a buckskin dress, daintily decorated with colorful beading, and a pair of soft leather moccasins. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded at her, and the depth behind his wide brown eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

  She carried the clothing inside and quickly replaced her own soiled, threadbare dress and broken boots with the new outfit. It was so soft and comfortable, and the slippers warmed her cold toes. She smiled in delight and moved around the teepee, admiring the beads as they flashed in the dim light and relishing the feeling of freedom from her old, torn clothes. She quickly weaved her flyaway hair into long braids on either side of her face and fixed them in place with leather thongs she’d found the previous day.

  Hurrying outside, she stood in front of Bodaway and the children, waiting for their reaction.

  Bodaway’s gaze lifted from his bowl of food and traveled appreciatively over her. “Good.” His eyes caught hers and he inclined his head in a brief nod.

  Chepi and Lonan didn’t seem to notice. But Impeme stared at her too. “You’re beautiful,” she said with wide eyes.

  Maria’s cheeks flushed with warmth, and she ran her fingers down the length of the dress. It felt so good to be in warm, clean clothes again, she almost didn’t know what to do with herself. She felt different somehow, as though her days as a captive were over and she was becoming herself, fully human, once again. There was something honorable and decent about wearing nice clothing; and not having anything suitable to wear had felt shameful in a way.

  Her mind flashed back to her bridal trousseau and the effort her mother and aunts had made in preparing her for her big day, all the sewing, crocheting and needlepoint. Her heart glowed just thinking about the dresses, petticoats, undergarments, stockings, linens, blankets and more that had filled the hope chest as her wedding day approached. Mother and Father had always wanted her to have everything good in life, everything she could ever want or need. And Fred had wanted it for her too. Only he’d longed for adventure more than anything else.

  She turned to hide her face and her thoughts behind her hands. If only Fred had been content to live out their lives in England, none of this would have happened. As it turned out, he wasn’t a good fit for the life of an adventurer. He’d been seasick the entire journey to New York. He’d never managed to hunt well or skin game – that had fallen to her. He’d driven the oxen competently, but relied on her to build campfires and cook the meals. He was an accountant, not a pioneer, and she wished with everything she had that he’d learned that lesson before it had cost them both so dearly.

  After breakfast, a few other men arrived at their campfire to speak with Bodaway. The children ran off to play and Maria began clearing up the breakfast things.

  Bodaway stepped away from the others and came over to greet her. “Are you well?”

  Her brows drew down. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  He cleared his throat with a strange, soft cough. “Good. We’re going hunting. A herd of tatanka has been spotted nearby. I’ll be gone for a few days, most likely. Do you have what you need?”

  She arched an eyebrow. How could she know? She’d only had one day to look around, let alone take stock of their supplies. But rather than speak her thoughts, she nodded demurely.

  “I’ll see you when we return.”

  “Good.”

  He turned and stalked away with the other men, their laughter and low murmurs drifting back to her in the stillness of the cool morning. Tomowa stood nearby, watching the men leave – her eyes following Shiriki as he mounted a pony and followed along behind the others. His strong back disappeared over the prairie and she turned with a sigh, her lips drawn into a faint smile.

  Maria raised an eyebrow. Tomowa definitely had feelings for Shiriki. The idea was still strange to her – she’d only ever seen him as her guard. It was hard to think of him as the type of man another woman might love. She frowned and hurried back into the teepee. Well, today of all days she didn’t mind. She had a new dress and shoes. Her feet were warm and comfortable for the first time in months, and she didn’t feel as though she had to hide glimpses of her pale skin through the holes in her linsey-woolsey dress. Today was a good day, and love could bloom if it must. She wouldn’t object. Not today.

  Chapter Eight

  The days while Bodaway and the other men hunted passed in a flurry of cooking, washing, sweeping, scrubbing and scurrying after wayward children. Chepi and Lonan were determined not to mind Maria, and even Impeme had moments where she raised flashing eyes to meet Maria's and stamped her small feet in defiance.

  Maria was grateful she’d been able to pick up the language quickly and was now passably fluent in it. Even her thought life was no longer in English. The first time she’d noticed that, it had startled her and she’d fought against it — determined not to sink into complacency. But now she was used to it, embraced it even, since she could communicate with the other villagers, especially the children and Tomowa — and that made her existence less lonesome than it had been.

  The children were the biggest boon to her language skills, since they spoke their mind, and used colloquialisms to communicate most things, not waiting for Maria to catch up with their steady stream of conversation.

  She was glad for the activities that filled her days. Remaining busy kept her mind off the past and her captivity. She hadn’t gone over the attack in her mind’s eye in days, hadn’t woken bathed in sweat from the repeated nightmare of Fred’s final moments, hadn’t moped over her predicament once. Instead, she found herself content in the buzz and bustle of her new routine. It left her exhausted by day’s end, allowing her to fall with a sigh onto her sleeping mat and drift immediately into a deep and satisfying sleep.

  One other added benefit from her new situation was that as Bodaway’s wife, she was afforded a new respect among the villagers – apart from one old lady, Waneta, who seemed intent on putting her in her place. And even Anunkasan kept his distance, though every now and then she felt his black eyes on her and would look up to catch him scowling. But everyone else was friendly enough to her, even if they didn’t fully accept her as one of their own. They didn’t watch her with wary eyes any longer, and sometimes even greeted her warmly as they passed her by. Only Tomowa didn’t change — she still chatted away to Maria as she always had done, and now Maria was grateful she could understand everything her friend said, since she was learning so much about the way of The People, their history, and how to survive in the village.

  When Bodaway returned with the rest of the hunting party, the whole tribe turned out to greet them. Villagers ran in small groups through the maze of teepees, crying out and whooping with glee. The men rode slowly into camp, the ponies pulling travois laden with butchered buffalo meat – some already salted, some fresh – plus hides, horns and every other part of the beast they could carry, and a few mule deer besides.

  Maria ran to meet the returning men along with the rest, excited by the thought of fresh meat for supper and warm furs to nestle into over the coming winter. When she spied Bodaway among the group, sitting tall and proud on his pony’s spotted back, her heart actually leaped. She raised a hand to her throat. What had caused such a reaction? He was her captor – why should she feel pride at seeing him? He did look handsome, and was certainly one of the biggest and strongest of the group. But she couldn’t forget her place, and his. He was the son of the chief, destined to lead the people who'd killed her husband and abducted her. She was their hostage, not their friend. She must remember it — she couldn’t warm to him. He was one of them, and even as she survived by being genial toward him, she couldn�
�t let that warmth travel to her heart. She must guard against it, and stay strong, else she’d never escape.

  She swallowed hard and hurried back to the teepee to compose herself. She supposed she was only glad to see him due to fatigue and loneliness. It would be good to have someone else to sit with by the fire, someone to listen to other than the constant chattering and bickering of the children. That must be it – the solitude was getting to her. It was to be expected. She didn’t care for him, just longed for some kind of companionship. She missed Fred, and her family. Missed having a solid roof over her head, and a community around her who understood her, embraced her, and cared whether she lived or died. She drew a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

  When she next stepped outside, he was there by the fire, embracing the children. Lonan followed his every move with wide eyes, begging for stories of the hunt. Bodaway chucked him under the chin with his hand, promising the stories would come after supper. He turned to face Maria, and his smile faded. “Mariya. Are you well?”

  It seemed he was determined to ask her that same question every time he saw her. She fought a stab of irritation. “I am well, thank you.”

  He pointed to where he’d piled up his bounty from the hunt. “Meat for us and skins for clothing. You can sew?”

  She nodded. “I have sewn a few things in my time, though nothing like these.” She pointed to her own buckskin dress and moccasins. “I will ask Tomowa to help me. The children could do with some new clothes, I know. And you – I will make you a new breechclout and maybe some pants and a shirt too. Will that do?”

  He nodded and his eyes gleamed. “Good.”

  She noticed a fresh pile of firewood stacked up pale and dry against the side of the teepee, and her throat tightened. She hadn’t said a thing to him about it, and had intended to gather what she could from the riverbank before supper. It seemed now she didn’t need to. He’d returned his attention to the children, and she watched them laugh and chatter together excitedly. He sat beside the fire circle, and pulled Impeme onto his knee. She sighed, and reached for a stick to add to the fire, stoking the flames before laying it in the centre of the blaze to burn. Guarding her heart against Bodaway was going to be more difficult than she’d thought.