by Vivi Holt
“I suppose you’re right. Maybe I’ll get used to it and everything will come together as it should. Only time will tell.” She chewed her lip and fought back the threat of tears.
“Talk to God about it. He understands, and He’ll give you the guidance you need to figure a way forward.” Charlotte smiled and lifted Anna against her shoulder, patting her back.
“You’re right, I’ll pray about it and maybe God will show me what I should do.” But would He? Maria wasn’t so sure anymore. She’d been raised by a devout Catholic mother who’d come to England from Naples. Father had found her there on a business trip and decided he couldn’t live without her, so he’d married her and brought her to England. At least that’s what he always said. She’d loved hearing that story, and made Father recite it to her over and over when she was a girl. Whenever anything went wrong, Mother would tell her to get out her rosary and say her prayers, that the Blessed Virgin would give her wisdom.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that God had abandoned her all those years ago. She couldn’t seem to get past the way He’d let Fred get murdered and her be taken captive. It didn’t make sense. What had they ever done to deserve that? She wasn’t sure if anything happened for a reason anymore. Perhaps it was all just a series of random events. But her mother had always told her that God had a plan. If that was true, what was His plan for her?
Her memories of Fred had faded so much that sometimes she couldn’t remember his face, but she knew she’d loved him. It had been a different kind of love than she’d shared with Bodaway. With her Lakota husband, she couldn’t bear to be apart from him and longed for his touch – it still made her skin tingle just to think of it.
It hadn’t been that way with Fred, though he’d always been kind and caring. She missed him, but wondered how much of that was simply the idea of him. It was hard to say – so much had happened in the time he’d been gone. She didn’t feel like the same person she’d been when she married him. She was different somehow. She’d changed. And thinking about her marriage to Fred felt almost as though she was looking through a window at someone else, witnessing their life, their marriage, not her own. As if she was a completely separate person from the one she’d been. When she was with Bodaway, she forgot all about that past life — all she thought about, all that mattered, was that moment: her life with him.
She, Charlotte and Anna headed outside together and watched as folks scurried to their sleighs, climbing aboard and tucking blankets and furs around shivering legs. She hurried to find Clifford and Camilla and piled in with them, giggling as she tripped over Camilla’s feet and landed with a crash on the pile of furs. “Sorry!”
Camilla laughed. “Never mind. Hold on!”
The line of sleighs set off, heading out of town with whooping and shouting from the townsfolk who were bundled up snugly on the seats of sleek, shining sleighs and wagons and handmade buggies that had been neatly converted for winter. Maria laughed out loud and held onto the rail in front of her. She was nestled in beside Camilla, who leaned against the sturdy frame of her husband as he held the reins loosely in his hands.
They came to an open field beside the road and the line of sleighs headed across it, flanking the small community on a pre-worn track. It had been several days since the last snowfall and the ground there was hard enough to carry a team of horses. On either side of the track, the snow-covered earth fell away. Maria peered over the side of the vehicle and held her breath. They were flying along and the snowy ground whizzed by beneath her.
“Having fun?” called Camilla, one hand on her hat to hold it firmly in place and a wide grin beneath her freckled nose.
Maria nodded, but her heart was in her throat. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the hard board behind her.
Just then, she felt the sleigh lurch. Her eyes popped open and she grasped tighter to the rail in front of her. The bay horse stumbled, pulling the sleigh to the left. Clifford shouted as the entire vehicle slid down the embankment and tipped on its side, taking the horses with it.
Since she was seated on that side of the sleigh, Maria landed hard on the side railing, then was buried in the deep snow. Her head spun and she cried out in pain. Camilla had been flung against her, then thrown free - Maria didn’t know where she’d ended up.
“Cammie!” She heard Clifford’s frantic voice, muted by the snow. “Cammie, where are you?”
Maria groaned as pain enveloped her abdomen, left hip and arm. She wriggled her fingers, then her toes. She seemed to be able to move, at least a little, but all she could see was white. She tried to draw a breath, but another wave of pain stabbed through her.
Hands grasped her right arm and pulled her up, and she found herself face to face with Clifford. His hat was gone and his sandy blond hair stood on end. He threaded his arms beneath her and lifted her clear of the snow, then carried her back up to the trail where the rest of the townsfolk had come to a halt. Men were rushing here and there, pulling people and horses out of the snow and brushing them off.
Maria saw Camilla seated in a nearby wagon with Charlotte and Harry, her face pale and her dress and coat covered in damp patches. Charlotte was tucking a blanket around her and stroking her hair. It seemed everyone else was all right, and she was relieved. If only she wasn’t in so much pain herself. Now her entire abdomen was cramping, and she couldn’t bear the agony, writhing in Clifford’s arms.
He hurried her to the Todds’ wagon, where Sam and Estelle waited with grim faces. “We’ve got to get her to Dr. Potter’s.” Clifford’s voice was strained, and she wondered vaguely if perhaps she was more badly injured than she realized.
In no time, the wagon set off at a brisk pace. Maria was barely aware of what was going on around her. People conversed, but she didn’t know who said what. Every now and then she heard the sheriff, though she couldn’t tell what he’d said. Her eyes drifted closed and her breathing was ragged.
When they reached Dr. Potter’s cottage on the outskirts of town, Clifford picked her up again, gently looping one arm beneath her legs and the other around her shoulders, and carried her inside. He laid her on a flat, hard surface and spoke with another man in hushed tones: “… fell from the sleigh. Not sure what’s hurt, but maybe the … yes, I think so … Maria Holloway, that’s right …”
She wondered if she’d always be known as that Maria Holloway, and the thought filled her with sudden sadness. Her eyes blinked open and she rolled onto her side, bringing her legs up against her stomach and wrapping her arms around them with a groan.
“Mrs. Holloway, where does it hurt?” asked a man with round spectacles and wispy gray hair.
“My st-t-tomach,” she hissed, her eyebrows drawn low and her forehead furrowed.
“Right. Well, roll onto your back and let’s take a look, shall we?” The doctor fussed with the sheet, flattening it out. “Thank you, Sheriff – if you could just wait outside, that would be fine.” Clifford left and Maria turned onto her back with another moan. “That hurts, does it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m just going to apply a little pressure, I’m sorry if it’s painful.” She nodded and he pressed gently on her abdomen, moving his fingers around until she cried out. “That’s the worst of it, is it?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Uh-huh.”
He held a contraption against her stomach, sticking the ends of it in his ears, and listened intently for a few moments. “Well, my dear, you don’t seem to have any serious injuries, though I do wonder about the pain. Can you tell me what kind of pain it is – sharp, dull, building …?”
“It’s like a cramp, but not like any cramp I’ve ever felt before.”
“Hmmm … is it possible you’re pregnant?”
She nodded. Unable to speak.
“Well I’m afraid we won’t know how the little one is doing until the pain passes. You’re going to have to stay in bed and rest – no getting up and moving around, no working. Just rest, understand?” His spectacles ha
d shifted down his nose and he peered at her over the tops of the round rims.
“Yes, Doctor, thank you. I think it’s a little better already.”
“That’s good to hear. You may go home now, but if it gets worse, or there’s any bleeding, you come right back here to see me, or better yet, have the Brentwoods fetch me.” He shoved the spectacles back up the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, Dr. Potter.” She sighed, then grimaced as another spasm took hold. “Thank you.”
He dipped his head and washed his hands in a bowl of water, then hurried out to fetch Clifford.
Maria returned to her side and curled her legs up again. It was a comforting position. She knew what a blow like that could mean – she might lose the baby. Bodaway’s baby. Tears spilled from her eyes and fell silently down her cheeks to the bed below her as she suddenly realized just how much she wanted the baby. How every part of her longed to bring their child into the world to nurture and love. She’d lost Bodaway. She couldn’t lose their baby as well.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The knitting needles flashed in the light of the crackling fireplace as Maria worked the pale yellow yarn into a tiny knit cap. She sat straight on the settee, her brow furrowed and her mouth drawn in a tight line. It had been a week since the accident and she’d finally been allowed out of bed. The pain had passed and as far as Dr. Potter could tell, the baby was out of danger. She was just glad to be out of bed and off her back. There was only so much faro-playing she could stomach.
She hoped she’d have a girl. Then again, a boy would be wonderful too. Really, it didn’t matter to her at all, though she knew Bodaway would probably like another boy, since he already had two girls.
“What are you makin’ there?” asked Camilla, sitting beside her and setting a cup of steaming black coffee before her.
“Thanks.” Maria lay the knitting in her lap and smiled. “This is a cap for the baby when it comes.”
Camilla’s gaze dropped to the floor and her cheeks blazed red. “I’m sorry,” she said, smoothing her skirts with her hands. “I wasn’t sure… I mean, I had an inklin’, but…I guess you must be feelin’ … well, I don’t know what you must be feelin’. But I’m sorry anyway.”
“It’s all right. Really, I’m not upset – I’m excited.” She grinned. “I know everyone will no doubt think it’s disastrous, but after the accident, I realized just how much I want it. This baby is the only thing I have to live for any longer.” She took a sip of coffee and went back to knitting.
Camilla frowned and tapped her toes on the hard floorboards. “But …”
“Yes?” asked Maria. “What is it, Cammie?”
“It’s just that … didn’t he – that is, the father – take advantage? I mean, weren’t you attacked? Why would you want this baby?”
Maria lay the knitting down again and faced Camilla with wide eyes. “Is that what you think?”
Camilla nodded her head. “Of course. You were abducted.”
“No, that’s not what happened. I mean, yes, I was captured, but no one forced themselves on me … well, one tried, but that’s a story for another day. Bodaway, the baby’s father, he’s my … my husband.”
Camilla’s hand flew to cover her mouth and she gasped, her eyebrows arching. “What?”
“As far as the Lakota are concerned, we’re married.”
“But … how?” Camilla leaned forward and laid a hand on Maria’s arm.
Maria laughed. “The same way anyone gets married, I suppose. We didn’t have a ceremony, since the Lakota don’t do that. But we were committed to each other, so it’s pretty much the same thing. We were married three years ago. I was beginning to think I’d never have a baby, but maybe God was just biding His time.” She paused and her smile faded. “But then I left. And now the baby won’t have a father or family. Just me.”
Camilla patted her hand. “Well … that’s somethin’. The baby will be so blessed to have you as its mum.”
Maria resumed knitting, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “Bodaway and I, we had three children …”
“You did?” Camilla’s eyes widened again.
“Yes. Not mine by birth – their mother died years ago. But I loved them as if they were mine. I still do.” Her throat closed up and she choked on the words.
“I’m so sorry, Maria,” whispered Camilla, her face blanching. “I had no idea.”
“I know – no one really understands. It doesn’t make sense, but I loved Boda. I love him still. He’s my husband and we were a family and now I’ve lost everything.” Maria slumped. “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake …” She dropped the knitting and covered her eyes with her hands.
“Maria … it sounds as though you wish you were still back there.” Camilla’s voice was quiet as she rubbed Maria’s sleeve.
Maria heard Clifford come in through the back door. He stamped his feet on the mat and stomped across the kitchen floor. “Hello?”
“We’re in here,” called Camilla. She stood to her feet and bustled to meet him, kissing him gently before ushering him back into the kitchen.
As her tears fell, Maria could hear them whispering loudly in the kitchen. Then she heard Camilla speak up. “There’s fresh coffee brewed and supper is almost ready. You go clean up and it’ll be time to eat when you’re done.”
He murmured something in reply, and she heard him clomp down the short hallway.
She couldn’t seem to stop the tears. What was wrong with her? She’d longed to be rescued and returned to civilization. It’d finally happened – her dreams had come true. And all she could think of was the cozy teepee she’d left behind, the sound of Bodaway’s footsteps as he returned home from a day’s hunting, the tinkle of Impeme’s little laugh, Chepi rolling her eyes and Lonan wrestling with his friends in the dust outside.
Camilla returned to the den and sat next to Maria again. “I’m sorry about that, my dear. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” sniffed Maria, pulling a handkerchief from her skirt pocket to press against her running nose. “You really don’t have to sit with me if you have other things to do. In fact, it’s probably best I’m alone for now.”
“I’ll leave you with your thoughts, then. But consider this – only you are in control of your destiny. Fred is gone. Your parents live on the other side of the world. No one can tell you how to live your life – you can choose your own path. So what you have to decide is, what do you want?” Camilla rose and left the room, leaving Maria alone with only the warmth of the fire and the echo of her parting words for companionship.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The axe came down hard on the timber, splitting it in two. Bodaway bent down to pick up the firewood and threw it into a pile on a discarded shirt beside him. The shirt was torn, and while he could have asked Tomowa or one of the other women to fix it, he didn’t want to. He wanted Mariya back.
He stooped to pick up the corners of the shirt and carried it back to camp to build up the fire for supper. Chepi was slicing turnips into a pot when he arrived. He laid the firewood on the ground and sat beside her with a sigh.
“I miss her,” said Chepi, her face blank as she kept slicing.
He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. She’d rarely shown Mariya any type of approval or affection while she was here. “I do too.”
She glanced at him, her eyes snapping. “Then why don’t you go get her?”
He laid a hand on her back. “Chepi, you’ll understand one day. I don’t want her to come back here against her will. She was brought here that way and I was never comfortable with that. I thought she’d grown to love me, to love us, but when she had the chance to leave she took it. If she doesn’t want to be with us, then it’s for the best.”
Tears filled Chepi’s eyes and she dashed them away with a fist. “But why wouldn’t she want to be with us?”
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his side. “It’s not th
at she doesn’t care about us, but her home is with the wasicu. It’s where she’s from. She’s just gone home, to where she belongs.”
“But Papa …”
He stroked her hair. “Shhh, my darling girl. When you’re older, you’ll see what I’m saying is right.”
“But you want her back, don’t you?”
She met his gaze, her eyes red. “Yes.”
“What if she doesn’t know that? If you told her how you feel, maybe she would want to come back.”
He smiled and rubbed his chin with his hand. He’d considered doing just that a thousand times, but what if she didn’t want him, didn’t want anything to do with him? She’d left them without waiting to see if he was to be chief, or if he was even alive. It didn’t make sense to him after all their time together. He’d felt as though he’d known her better than that. But maybe he hadn’t after all.
Impeme’s voice behind him broke through his thoughts. “I want Mama too.” She came and sat on his knee, holding his face between her hands so that she could look solemnly into his eyes. Hers were full of sadness and her lower lip drooped.
He laughed and hugged her close. “I guess that settles it, then. I must find her and tell her we want her back.”
Chepi whooped and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”
“I make no promises, though. I may not find her, and even if I do she might not return with me. The two of you will just have to live with that. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Papa!” they cried in unison.
***
Travel was slow to the English village of Cutter’s Creek. There were still patches of snow on the muddy ground and it was so cold at night that Bodaway had to risk a fire, even if he couldn’t be sure who might see it. But he knew where he was headed and the route to take. Mariya had told him several times where she’d been headed before being captured, and he’d seen it from a distance some years earlier, but his memories of the place were vague.