by Vivi Holt
Without a word, he nodded and headed out, with Maria following close behind.
She’d been with the People for almost a year now and she felt as though she’d earned her place as a fellow member of the tribe. Honovi trusting her on such a journey was further proof of that, as was Anunkasan’s willingness to make peace.
They rode in silence for hours, following the winding creek downstream from the village. In places they had to climb up steep embankments or squeeze the ponies through narrow gaps in the thick woods, bird calls echoing around them. Anunkasan seemed lost in his own thoughts, and Maria was happy to leave him be and enjoy the sights and smells of the countryside.
But still, she wondered over the warrior’s change of heart. She knew he was the one who’d killed Fred, and held a grudge against Bodaway and, by extension, her since the spring. She’d done her best to stay as far away from him as possible and not make things worse. Had he truly given up his bitterness toward Bodaway? Maybe Honovi had given him a good talking-to – that might explain the change. Or maybe he was just biding his time until an opportunity for revenge arose. She hoped it was the former.
As the sun approached the western horizon, Maria began to fidget. “How close are we to the salt spring?” she asked.
He smiled gently. “Not far.” Then he turned away and was silent again. Sure enough, several minutes later they came over a rise and she saw at the bottom of a steep embankment the creek they’d been following falling into a wide river. A set of rapids sent up a roar, deafening after the hours of silence.
Anunkasan led the way carefully down the precipitous bank to a dazzling white beach at the river’s edge. He dismounted and led his horses to the water to drink. Maria did the same and all three animals lowered their heads to slurp down the cool, clear water. She knelt beside the pony and filled her hands to do the same. It tasted as good as it looked, and she closed her eyes to savor its sweetness.
When they’d all drunk their fill, he led the horses to the bank, hobbled them to graze and began unpacking their supplies. Maria knelt to help him. “This is the salt spring?”
“It is.”
“Oh. It’s beautiful.”
He set a kettle on the ground beside her, then stood and stretched the kinks from his back. “I suppose so. You finish here and get a fire going. I’ll be back soon.” He pulled his bow and quiver from the travois, looped them around his torso and trotted into the woods.
Maria continued emptying the travois. Her fear of him had faded. He was being so polite and gentle toward her, as if all the tensions between them in the past had just been an act. Perhaps she’d been worried about nothing.
Once everything was unpacked she explored the riverbank, gathering driftwood and sticks and arranging them at the edge of the white sand. She pulled a flint from their supplies and lit the fire, standing back to watch the flames grow. It was late afternoon, and they’d need this fire to keep them warm once the sun set. It seemed Anunkasan intended to spend the night out here – they were too far from the village to make it back before dark.
Maria had just sat on a fallen log by the fire when he returned, dragging a young mule buck behind him by its hind legs, its body limp. She stood up and hurried to help him, but instead of being pleased, he looked irritated. She linked her hands behind her back, twisting them together, and waited.
“I thought you would have begun the work while I hunted,” he hissed. “You need to take those kettles, add the sand, then fill them with water and set them over the fire to boil. Haven’t you gathered salt before?” He heaved the deer onto its side to butcher.
“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry. I’ll get started now, then.”
“Good, good,” he muttered distractedly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
She hurried to where the kettles lay, selected one and scooped big handfuls of sand into it. Once she’d filled it with water, it was almost too heavy to carry on her own. She lugged it back to the fire, working hard not to spill any of its contents, then propped a few large sticks over the fire as a kind of brace. She set the kettle on it and it swayed, but held. She sighed deeply in relief and started on the next kettle.
By the time she had two kettles boiling and the other two filled and ready, Anunkasan had finished butchering the deer and was building frameworks from green saplings. He hung the meat in strips over the frames, in the path of the smoke drifting from the fire. “Have those kettles boiled dry yet?” he asked over his shoulder.
She peeked into them. “One has. The other’s almost done.”
“Here.” Anunkasan tossed her a square of deer hide.
She held the chunk of skin on the furry side, and lifted the finished kettle from the fire with it. With a grunt, she set it aside to cool and replaced it with one of the prepared ones. By then, the second one was ready, and she did the same with it.
He looked the scene over and nodded. “Good. We’ll be able to finish tomorrow morning and head home.” He slumped down on a log and set about unpacking the skin bag that held their supper. They quickly ate the jerky, roasted tubers and dried fruit, and Maria wandered to the water’s edge to drink again.
Darkness had fallen, enveloping the riverbank, and she wondered what the children were doing back at the village. Would they sleep in their own beds tonight, with Tomowa watching over them, or would they join her in the teepee she share with her parents?
A noise behind her startled her, and she felt Anunkasan place his hands on her back and slowly worked them around her waist until they linked together. He spun her around to face him, and she saw the hunger in his eyes. “Anun, what are you doing? Think carefully, or you’ll be answering to the chief’s son.”
He snarled. “What makes you think I care about that? You know we’re destined to be together. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. And now is our chance to finally be together. I’ve tried to stay away from you, but we’re drawn together, you and I. He’ll never know what passes between us out here. We can do anything we like, and he’ll be none the wiser.” His face hovered close above hers, and his eyes slid down to her mouth.
Maria placed her hands against his chest and tried to push him away, but he didn’t move an inch. “Anun, no! I will never be with you. You killed my husband – I saw you do it. Why would you ever imagine I would overlook that?”
She pushed him again with both hands, this time harder, sending him sprawling backward, his arms reached out as he fought to regain his balance. When he did, he strode toward her, his eyes flashing with anger. He grabbed her by both arms, and his fingers dug into her soft flesh.
He yanked her close, his fingernails digging into her flesh and making her cry out in pain. She tried to pull away. “Stop it!” she sobbed. “You’re hurting me!”
He sneered and shoved his lips hard onto hers.
“No! Stop!” Maria screamed as loudly as she could and hit him with both hands, slapping his face, scratching and clawing at his skin. But he refused to give way, and she knew no one was around to hear her. Her head grew dizzy, and she began to sob. Oh God, please help me!
Chapter Fifteen
Bodaway and the other braves rode into village around midday, exhausted after the hunt but pleased with their success. They’d tracked the herd of deer, felled several large bucks, and now had stacks of cured deer meat and hides strapped to their horses, and filling their travois.
Bodaway especially was anxious to get home to see his family. But when he reached his teepee, he found Waneta seated by the fire, watching Impeme sketch with a small stick in the dirt. The other children were nowhere to be seen. The old woman glanced up at him with a faint smile, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Waneta – how nice to see you,” he said as he dismounted.
Impeme came barreling over and leaped into his arms. “Papa!” she squealed.
He kissed the girl’s cheek. “Where’s Mariya?” he asked.
Waneta opened her mouth to answer, but Impeme beat her to it. “M
ama’s gone,” she replied with a crinkle of her nose. “She went with Anun.”
“What?” He wasn’t sure which shocked him more – that Impeme was calling Mariya Mama, or that Mariya would willingly go anywhere with Anunkasan.
He set the child down and looked over at Waneta. “Where is Mariya?”
Waneta smirked. “The girl is right, Bodaway. She went with Anun this morning for salt.”
Bodaway frowned, his muscles tensing. He knew Waneta was no friend of Mariya’s, so why was she here? Anunkasan and Waneta must be working together for some terrible purpose. “Salt, you say?”
Waneta nodded. “They’ll be back in the morning, don’t worry. She’s perfectly fine. It was your father’s idea,” she added.
Bodaway knew what he had to do. He quickly unloaded the bounty from Yarrow’s back and whispered, “Ready for another trip?” in the horse’s ear. The ear flicked back and forth, and he leaped onto the pony’s back and galloped out of the village toward the salt spring.
He knew there was no reason Anunkasan should take Mariya to the salt spring with him. There were plenty of other, more suitable villagers who would have gladly accompanied him. No, Anunkasan had long wanted to get back at him for the way he’d embarrassed him at the council in the spring, and he must have seen Bodaway’s absence as his chance to do just that. How he’d fooled Honovi into letting him take Mariya with him, he wasn’t sure, but he could ask his father about that later – once he made sure Mariya was safe
Yarrow’s hooves thundered beneath him as they flew across the prairie, following the course of the creek. Bodaway’s face was like an arrowhead as he leaned low over the stallion’s thick neck. He’d find them, if they were where the old witch said they were. He only hoped he’d get there in time.
Chapter Sixteen
Tears ran down Maria’s cheeks as she resigned herself to her fate. She knew she couldn’t fight Anunkasan forever, and there was no one else around to help her. When Anunkasan stumbled backward, away from her, it took her a few moments to understand what had happened. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and squinted into the fire-lit darkness to see two figures wrestling on the ground. Slowly she shook her head to regain her senses, and looked at the fighters again …
She gasped. It was Bodaway!
He was rolling in the grass with Anunkasan. His opponent pulled away for a moment, trying to recover, but Bodaway flung him to the ground again and leaped on him, pummeling him with both fists. Finally the beaten brave rolled free and fled toward the ponies, intending to get away. But he realized he didn’t have time to unhobble one, so instead he dashed up the embankment and into the woods.
Bodaway saw him go, coughed, then turned to face her, his eyes wide and his breath coming in great gulps. She stepped toward him, her brows drawn low.
“Mariya … are you well?” he rasped.
The sound of his voice made her sob, and she pressed her fingertips to her eyes for a moment. Then, with a smile, she cried, “Oh, Boda, I’m so glad to see you!”
She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist as he gasped, exhausted by the scuffle. She could feel the sweat that drenched his face and chest, but she didn’t care. Her heart hammering against her ribs, she lifted her hands to cradle his face and kissed him on first one cheek, then the other, then the tip of his nose, his chin, and finally his full, parted lips.
His hands crept around her, exploring the hollow of her back. His lips pressed down hard on her mouth. She lifted her arms and laced them around his neck, pulling him deeper into their embrace. Her entire body trembled at his touch.
Ending the kiss, he whispered against her hair. “Mariya, I’ve wanted this, ached for it. If only you knew how much, and for how long.”
“You came for me,” she sobbed quietly. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
He pulled away and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course I came. Where else would I go?”
She laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips again.
“Does this mean you don’t hate me any longer?” His tone was light, but his eyes were full of fear.
“Hate you? No, I don’t hate you – how could I? You’ve been so kind. You’ve never given me reason to hate you.”
“But I was there when ...” He stepped back and rubbed his chin.
She watched him, a lump in her throat. “Yes,” she whispered.
In anguish, he took her hands in his and kissed each palm softly, lovingly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”
“I forgave you long ago.”
He fell to his knees and pressed his face against her stomach. She wound her fingers through his long hair, and gently stroked his head as her tears fell unhindered.
“Mariya, you are everything to me. Promise me you’ll never leave me.”
Her heart torn, she sobbed silently in the darkness, his head in her hands, as the sounds of the river tumbling over smooth rocks filled the air. She prayed that God would show her the way forward. For how could she promise she’d stay with him, would never leave him, when her heart still longed for home?
Chapter Seventeen
Maria stirred and woke, her blurred vision taking in the riverbank, the escarpment shadowing their campsite and the white salt beach. Covered in bison hides, she lay still a moment, snug in their warmth. She recounted the events of the previous evening and her cheeks flamed. Where was Bodaway?
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and scanned the campsite. He squatted by the fire, a long stick in his hands. He prodded the fire with the stick, stoking it, and the flames leaped higher with a crackle. “Good morning,” she called.
“Good morning, Angpa.”
She blushed. She knew angpa meant “dawn” or “sunshine”, and the word on his lips made her pulse quicken. She stood, and straightened first her dress, then her hair. He strode over to her, and kissed the tip of her nose, then brushed his lips over hers, his eyes gleaming as they connected with her gaze. But as he did, a flash of Fred’s pale face interrupted her thoughts, and she pushed Bodaway back with a frown. “Sorry … I think I need to take a walk; to get some air.”
He frowned, watching as she wrapped a fur around her thin shoulders. “Well, we have a lot of work to do today if we plan on getting back to the camp before dusk. There’s no point in leaving this buck half-smoked and the salt in the kettles. We should finish what Anun started rather than wasting it all.” His brow furrowed and he studied the fire, seeming unable to meet her gaze again.
“Okay,” she said, then turned and hurried down the riverbank, her feet slipping in the sand.
What was she doing? She’d betrayed Fred’s memory. She’d let her guard down. Bodaway was a kind man, but he was still her captor. How had she let this happen? She’d been so relieved to see him – he’d rescued her from Anunkasan – but that’s all it was.
And now what? What should she do? She was married to the man, and he wanted everything from her – body and soul. She could see that now, and didn’t understand how she hadn’t noticed it before. He was in love with her.
When had that sprung upon them? Love? Did she love him too? And if she did, what did that mean? Would she give up the idea of ever being rescued, ever getting home to see Mother and Father? Could she stay with the Lakota for the rest of her days, raising babies, riding ponies bareback and cooking by an open fire? Of course not. She wanted civilization. She longed to go home. It was all she’d ever wanted. And she couldn’t let herself get sidetracked or distracted by a man, no matter how much he made her heart pound and her legs weaken.
She walked for an hour, only turning back when her feet ached. When she returned to their campsite, Bodaway was working hard, boiling salt down in the kettles, wrapping slices of smoked deer meat and packing them onto the travois for the return journey. He looked up when she arrived, his eyes dark, and nodded, then continued with his work.
“I’ll pack the salt,” she said. He didn’t respond, so she strode to the pi
le of supplies to pull the clay pots free and filled them one by one with the cooled salt.
By early afternoon, they had all the salt and cured deer meat they could carry packed away and ready for the journey home. Anunkasan had sneaked back while they slept and taken a horse to return to the village himself, but Bodaway had Yarrow to ride, so they still had three horses for the journey.
The ride back to the camp was slow, and even quieter than the trip there with Anunkasan had been. Bodaway was morose and avoided eye contact. It was as though he could read her thoughts and knew she wasn’t sure about him, about them. They stopped once to adjust the load and transfer it to Yarrow to pull awhile, since the other mount was tiring. Maria slipped from her animal’s back to drink from a canteen while she watched Bodaway work. When he’d completed his task, he moved past her to mount Yarrow.
She reached for him, placing her hand firmly on his forearm. “Boda, I’m sorry.”
He glanced at her, his eyes swimming with pain. “For what?”
She stepped close to him, pulled his hand to her lips and kissed the back where it was grazed and bruised from the scuffle with Anunkasan. “For this morning. For being scared and pushing you away. It’s just that sometimes, when I think about Fred or my old life, I miss it. And loving you would mean never returning to it, never seeing my family again, never having the life I used to – the life I so desperately want.” She searched his eyes frantically, for some sign he understood.
He sighed and kissed her forehead. “I can see that. I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I want you, all of you – you know that. But if you don’t want me ...”
“But I do,” she exclaimed, cupping his cheek with one hand. “I do. That’s the problem. I want you, and I feel terrible for it.”
He slipped a finger beneath her chin and lifted it, looking deep into her eyes. “I’ll take care of you and love you, always. Your home is with us. Please, won’t you let that be everything you need?”