Running Elk
E.A. Porter
For Marcella “Whitekiller” Katcher
Čhaŋkú lúta máni, mi kola wašté
Chapter One
Running Elk watched from where he had hidden himself, behind a large rock, as the woman picked over the beautiful desert flowers abundant in the early spring. Her clothing clung to her curves with every breath of the wind. The warrior had seen more than his fair share of white women, yet from the moment he laid eyes on her, he could tell that she was different. She was beautiful, young, and graced with a very appealing body. But there were many women like that. Maybe more importantly, plenty of his own kind. He had a wife at the camp, though she was growing fat and miserable with being left alone so much.
Running Elk’s life revolved around hunting. He was happiest when alone on the prairie; just he and his gods. They blessed Running Elk more often than not with the sight of his expertly-honed arrow piercing the soft flesh of a strong, free-roaming animal. However, the sight of the white woman picking flowers was proving to be too much of a distraction for him to concentrate on his mission.
He was aware of the men in close proximity to the woman and knew remaining hidden was the prudent thing to do. Still, the woman was a pleasing sight, so he chose not to disturb the tranquil scene but instead prayed for the opportunity to see her again.
She had hair the color of sun-ripened wheat. It was long, though not as long as his. Her eyes were a striking green and her skin was not as white as most of the tahbay-boh he’d seen. Hers was a darker hue, a healthy sun-kissed glow. Above all else, the woman seemed to be fearless. The knowledge made him smile. And for reasons he couldn’t begin to understand, he wanted nothing more than to see her again.
Running Elk watched as she swept her forearm across her brow, her skin glistening in the midday sun, and had to commanded his body not to stand. It was amazing that the woman could be so unguarded in a land so full of bloodshed and heartache. She was the most interesting person he had ever come across.
Noises from the men approaching caused him to decide it was time to leave her to her flowers.
The woman consumed his thoughts as he rode back to his camp. Never before had he allowed a woman, let alone a white woman, to affect him. Knowing nothing of the woman, except for the fact that she excited him in a way he hadn’t felt in years, cemented the knowledge that tomorrow would be another good day for hunting. Only he wouldn’t be bringing home any meat. Running Elk would be hunting for more information.
Once he arrived at the camp, he immediately went in search of the Shaman. He knew he could trust the spiritual leader more than anyone; the holy man was his brother.
He held both his older brothers in the highest regard. They were powerful men among his people.
After entering the tipi’s open flap, Running Elk took a seat by the crackling fire in the center of the home.
White Wolf looked up at his little brother before lighting the pipe. “Running Elk. I can tell from your thoughtful look that you have seen the white woman.”
Running Elk couldn’t conceal his surprise. His brother had always had a special relationship with the gods. They allowed him to see things before they took place and gave him the guidance to help his people. But White Wolf’s visions had never before included him.
“What do you know of the woman?” Running Elk asked eagerly.
“She pleases you. I know that much. I also know Morning Star could never arouse your emotions like the white woman has.”
“Brother, I took Morning Star to my lodge for the wrong reasons. But I am duty bound to take care of her. No matter what, she will be taken care of,” Running Elk vowed. His wife might not have held his heart, but she never wanted for anything. Except Running Elk’s company.
White Wolf watched his little brother closely through the smoke from his pipe. His first inclination was to warn Running Elk of the dangers of bringing a new white woman to their camp
“Do you understand the harm it will cause if you act on your impulsive thoughts?” the shaman asked as he handed Running Elk the pipe.
“And just what do you think I am thinking?”
“You are thinking about bringing her here. How would Morning Star feel if you did?”
“A lot of men have more than one woman. Why am I so different?”
“Not white women. The only white left in our camp is Sparrow. And honestly, there is no remnant of white left in her. She has given Kicking Bird three fine sons and has spoken out against being given back to her old family. Taking a white woman now would cause us to break a treaty with the Great Father in Washington. The soldiers would come for us and destroy everything.”
“I understand, but I am still free to come and go as I please. I think tomorrow I will hunt again, and it will please me greatly,” he said, standing and walking to the doorway.
“Tomorrow the raiding party returns. You should be here to welcome our brother back,” White Wolf strongly suggested.
Running Elk knew his brother was attempting to delay the inevitable, but he wasn’t going to be put off. “I will be in our village tonight, but that means I will be leaving again shortly. I will hunt either way.”
Running Elk departed the company of the shaman and thought about his devoted wife with braids to her knees and round, soft face. Her height was matched only by her width and her smile was the brightest in the camp. Morning Star’s eyes revealed her every thought; she had nothing to hide.
Like always, she had his meal waiting for him. Yet, instead of thanking her, he ate in total silence. When he finished, he picked up his bow and looked to his long-suffering wife. Running Elk quietly appreciated her silence.
“I am going out again. Tomorrow, Kicking Bird returns. I will be here to welcome him home.”
“Will you be gone all night?” she asked him, noticeably attempting to keep her disappointment in check.
He could see the tears forming in her eyes. Her distress made him angry, as did knowing he could not do better by the woman. She was not his first love, nor would she ever be able to fill his heart. Their union had been one of convenience to their people. Years earlier, when he was a much younger man, his best friend had been killed in a raiding party against the Kiowa. Doing what was expected of him, Running Elk had taken the woman to his tipi. He always did what was best for the Comanche and, without him, Morning Star would have been without a mate.
“Go to sleep. I will be back when the sun rises.”
After calling his mount, he directed his pony towards the white man’s camp.
***
Running Elk walked his horse behind him as he neared the people sitting huddled around a small fire. When he saw her, he stopped walking. She seemed uninterested in what was going on around her. The striking woman was looking out on the prairie, watching the setting sun. He hadn’t noticed the stunning beauty of the end of the day until then.
It was a spectacular sight which gave the entire sky a golden hue. He took a few seconds to thank the gods and then fixed his attention back on the woman.
She was wearing a sun-colored dress and black boots. Running Elk’s immediate thought was that the captivating woman would be much more comfortable in his people’s clothing. The attention she demanded caused him to lose sight of the rest of the group. There were two men and another woman. He looked at the other woman. She was attractive, but he wasn’t drawn to her in any way. He was spellbound by the woman with yellow hair and faraway eyes. Instead of worrying about the others in her party, he decided they would not be a problem as long as he could draw her away and speak with her alone.
It was when his attention turned back to her that their eyes met. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t scream at the sight of him. Instead
of screaming, she looked him straight in the eyes with what he assumed was terror.
Chapter Two
The days had been long and uneventful for Alexandria. After the third day of traveling she’d lost any desire to keep track of the passing time. She thought the journey would never come to an end. The wagon supplies were becoming threadbare, and the herds of animals were getting thinner as the miles passed. Food was scarce, although being close to water and fish was a blessing. Everything she owned was covered in dust, and she longed for her tub back in Virginia. She still wasn’t convinced that leaving her home and most of her comforts behind had been the right thing to do. Her husband, Richard, loved her with all his heart. She was sure of that. The problems in their marriage were all on account of her. She loved him like a brother, not a lover. She had been against going West from the beginning but knew if her husband left her in Virginia, she would be all alone. Her final decision was that she would rather die than be abandoned. She had determined the reason her husband hadn’t informed her of their destination was due to his fear of her backing out. He always called her irrational; she preferred the term free spirit.
After readying the camp and feeding her companions, she climbed up onto the front of the wagon to rest. Being alone gave her time to think about the feeling she couldn’t shake. She had been sure she could feel someone’s eyes on her while she was picking flowers earlier, and then again when she was watching the most beautiful sunset she’d ever seen. Instead of being worried or frightened by the suspicion, she was intrigued and found herself searching the area for signs she’d been right. She found him almost immediately. His close proximity caught her off guard.
The man was most exquisite man she’d ever seen. He had coal-black hair which was almost blue in the dusk. His hair reached the bottom of his back with loose strands hanging over his muscular shoulders. His eyes were brown and incredibly deep. She could tell just by looking at him that he’d seen many things. The hardness of his features assured her that the Indian had seen his share of pain and death, suffering and loss. His face was strong but handsome. His nose came to bit of a point; his cheekbones were high and well formed. His lips were full and well defined. He was wearing only a breechcloth and moccasins that tied at the knee. His smooth skin was almost the color of caramel. He was an impressive man.
After slowly looking the man over, her eyes moved to his necklace. The blue-beaded choker he wore was exquisite. She found herself smiling at him instead of screaming and alerting the others in her party. After cautiously glancing back towards the people by the fire, she jumped down from her perch and walked in their direction.
She couldn’t explain the overpowering feeling of excitement she was experiencing as she neared her friends.
***
Running Elk watched her with doubt in his mind. Instead of leaving the people in peace, he stayed where he was and observed the unfolding scene. His muscles involuntarily tightened when he watched the woman speak to the others before making a gesture with her arms and walking away. He wondered what she was doing, but didn’t see any sign that the woman had alerted the others to his presence. He didn’t plan on letting her out of his sight. The white men were fools to allow her to walk away. There were wild creatures out in the forsakenly frightful night. The sparse landscape offered little protection from man or beast. There were anemic trees sprinkled here and there, and large rocks jutted up from the hard ground. The most abundant life held itself close to the ground. Tall thin blades of prairie grass and muted flowers helped cover the ground and maintained the little moisture brought by the morning dew.
Running Elk wondered if the rest of the traveling party cared about the woman’s safety at all. After watching her walk behind a large rock, he followed. The intriguing woman had stopped and waited for him. Her actions caused him to run into her, forcefully. She let out an audible gush of air.
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
Running Elk could both speak and understand the white man’s language. He had learned it when Sparrow had come to live with his brother. For the first time, he was thankful for the knowledge.
He wanted to say so many things to her, but his first question was the most logical.
“Why are you not afraid of me?” His accent was rough, he knew, but she seemed to understand him perfectly.
“I’m not sure. I know I should be. But you don’t seem inclined to hurt us, or you would have already.”
“I am called Running Elk. What do they call you?”
“My name is Alexandria Standish.”
“Alexandra,” he said, mispronouncing the word. Names had always given him trouble, and he decided to find a more fitting name for her. He would call her Two Fires.
“Close enough. Your necklace is very nice. What is the stone?”
As she spoke, she moved closer to him and reached to touch the jewelry
When her hand made contact with his skin, he felt desire well inside him. It was a feeling he had forgotten he could experience. He knew at that moment that he would have the woman, and she would come to him willingly.
“The stone is turquoise. It is protecting to my people,” he said, touching her hand where it held his necklace. “I have worn this for many summers, but now I give it to you.”
“I would love to have it, but it’s your protection,” she said, letting the choker go. A blush covered her cheeks when her hand grazed his chest.
“I believe that I will continue to be protected by my gods. I have many other stones at the camp and will have another one when I return to you. You keep this. You and your party need protection more than I.”
After quickly removing the pendant, he laid it into her outstretched hands.
“You shouldn’t wear it now. The others will most definitely be curious as to where you found it. Are you aware of just how dangerous this country is? Where exactly are you and your party going?”
He seemed to be regaining some of his senses and needed all the information she would give him. The only thing he was sure of at that very moment was that the woman would be his.
“I told them I needed some privacy. And as for the Indians, you are the only one any of us have seen.”
“No doubt because I was the only one wanting to be seen. You must be very careful. Now where are you going?” he asked again.
“We are going west, that’s all I know. I am with them, but I don’t know if they are sure exactly where they … where we are headed.” She explained as she located the nearest felled tree and made a seat out of it.
He could hear the frustration in her voice when she spoke.
He knelt down so that he could look her in the eye. The desire to believe the woman was overpowering, but her answer was making it difficult. No one could be so foolhardy as to venture west with no idea of where they were going; not even settlers.
“Do you belong to one of those men?”
“Yes, I am married to the man with the dark hair. His name is Richard,” she replied, lowering her head.
Running Elk thought he could detect annoyance in her tone. It was the same tone he took on every day when he spoke to Morning Star. Maybe they had something in common. Before continuing the conversation, Running Elk moved silently and looked in on the rest of the traveling party. They were all talking as they sat around the fire. He took the briefest of minutes to look at the dark-haired man. He was tall and stocky with eyes as black as night. The man seemed a bit jumpy, and not particularly smart.
“Why did you marry if you do not love him?”
“I do love him.”
“Then why are you here with me?”
“He’s my best friend. I love him as that, not as I should love my husband.”
“You are unhappy? You do not appear to be unhappy. You seemed to not have a care in the world when you were alone in the flowers.”
“The open prairie calms me. I feel so close to nature when I’m away from the city. You’re the only uncertainty I’ve encountered. Have you been fo
llowing us?”
“I am not following them. I am following you. I cannot explain why. The gods have brought us together for a reason,” Running Elk stated with resolve.
“I, too, feel drawn to you but I must get back to camp. I don’t want them to come looking for me, and I cannot explain my absence if I’m gone much longer. When will I see you again?”
Her question filled Running Elk with hope. The woman wanted to see him again. “I agree, you cannot tell them about me, and do not let your husband see the necklace. Go now. I will find you again soon.” He spoke softly as he moved behind the rock before disappearing into the darkness.
***
Alexandria felt a chill when she realized he was gone. She looked at the choker before holding it to her breast. Richard had never made her palms sweat and her knees weak simply by being near her. Surprising as it was, she had to admit to herself that she was actually looking forward to seeing the handsome, kind Indian again. And strange as it was, she also found herself wanting to tell Richard about meeting him. On her way back to the others, however, she decided that telling Richard anything would only cause a fight that would end as they always did, with him calling her irrational. She didn’t want to taint her meeting with the handsome Indian, so she stayed quiet.
Her mind was full of thoughts of Running Elk as she sat by the glowing fire after returning to her friends. While her traveling companions talked of the land they would soon farm, Alexandria looked into the night sky. She’d never appreciated the beauty the night held when she was living back in Virginia.
Chapter Three
Running Elk took his time returning to Morning Star. A smile crossed his face when he remembered the way Alexandria looked at him. Most women looked at him twice, but not many would speak their thoughts so openly. He enjoyed the effect he had on the white woman. He was also savoring the effect she had on him. Women aroused him quite frequently; he was a normal man. But the need he felt for her was as powerful as anything he’d ever experienced. The white woman was so firmly in his mind that he decided to speak to Sparrow when he reached the camp. His sister-in-law surely remembered some of her old ways, and he found himself hungry for knowledge.
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