It was a brave tale, one that stirred Amanda, made her feel inadequate and yet, when she was caught up in some chore that seemed impossible, she thought about Rides Two Paths. Thinking about the Apache woman’s courage made whatever task Amanda was facing seem easy in comparison.
She had assumed that the canyon was the Apache’s permanent home, but a few days later, Trey told her they were moving. With winter coming, there wasn’t graze enough for the horses, or food enough for the people, and they were headed for their winter stronghold.
The women packed up the contents of their lodges, prepared food for the journey, and gathered their children together. The men rounded up the horses, and they were ready to go.
Amanda felt a strange sense of loss as she followed Trey out of the canyon. She had been married there, discovered the true meaning of intimacy and love there. In a way, she had grown up there. And now they were leaving. She glanced back as they cleared the entrance, knowing with a clear certainty that she would never see it again.
There was a holiday air among the People as they traveled toward their winter stronghold. The young men rode up and down the line, showing off their horsemanship, which Amanda found quite spectacular. The young women watched it all while pretending to be disinterested. Young mothers nursed their children on horseback. The warriors rode at the head of the column, and at the back, keeping watch. The horse herd brought up the rear of the caravan, guarded by teenage boys and a handful of seasoned warriors.
Amanda glanced at the women riding nearby. Save for the color of her hair, she looked like any other Apache woman. It gave her a keen sense of satisfaction to know she fit in with the Indians more every day, that they regarded her as a friend. She had been so afraid they would shun her because she was white, the enemy, but, for the most part, they had made her feel welcome. All except Red Shawl. Amanda had been able to avoid the woman in camp for the most part, but now on the march, she saw her glaring at her from a distance.
When Trey rode up a short time later, she asked him about the woman.
“What’s Red Shawl’s problem?”
“Problem?” He frowned. “I didn’t know she had a problem. What is it?”
“Not exactly a problem,” she said, realizing he had taken her literally. “I mean, I don't think she likes me. I don’t know why. I’ve never done anything to her. Why doesn’t she like me?”
He hesitated. “Perhaps she’s jealous.”
“Jealous? Why?”
“We’re old…friends.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. When we were growing up, she hinted that she’d like to be my woman.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, but I was too young at the time. She’s about five years older than I am. I wasn’t interested in women then. I wasn’t interested in anything but avenging my father’s death. She got upset when she found out I was leaving the tribe.”
“Well, I think she’s still upset. Did she ever get married?”
Trey shrugged. “I don’t know. Want me to ask her?”
“What do you think?”
“Just trying to help,” he replied, stifling a grin.
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re not jealous of her, are you?”
“Of course not.”
But she was, and they both knew it.
* * * * *
It was a long day. Amanda was bone-weary by the time the People stopped for the night. When Trey came to take her horse, she sank down on the ground, too tired to think of anything but sleep.
And sleep she did. When she woke, it was full dark and the camp was set up for the night. Most of the women and children were asleep. Most of the men, too, save a few who were talking quietly a short distance away, and those whose duty it was to stand the first watch.
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Amanda sat up, looking around for Trey, but he was nowhere in sight. He had covered her with a blanket and left a small fire burning to warm her. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. Where was he?
Needing some privacy, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and walked a little ways away from the fire, out of sight of the rest of the camp. She paused where underbrush began to thicken, wondering if it was safe to walk any further in the dark. While she was trying to decide, she heard Trey's voice coming from deeper in the brush, speaking rapid Apache. She peered into the darkness, looking for an opening in the thick undergrowth that might lead toward him, but before she could move, she heard a softer voice answering his. A woman's voice. She hesitated, feeling as though her insides had turned to ice
Trey spoke again. She couldn't make out individual words. If only they would speak louder, and slower!
The woman’s reply carried an intimacy that was recognizable in any language. Amanda’s heart began to pound in her ears as Trey spoke again, somewhat more sharply.
The woman’s reply was louder, too, the intimacy replaced by anger.
Amanda heard a twig snap, and shrank back into the shadows.
Trey and Red Shawl moved into a patch of moonlight, walking close together. Too close together. Red Shawl spoke again, her voice low. Trey shook his head. Amanda stood stock-still and tried to be invisible. They passed within yards of her. Red Shawl spoke again, her voice harsh, and then turned away from Trey. Trey put his hand on her shoulder in what appeared to be a gesture of appeasement and said something in a soothing voice. Amanda stared at him, shocked by the sight of him touching another woman. He said something else, and Red Shawl shrugged his hand off angrily. He turned and strode back toward camp
Trey was sitting on their bedroll when she returned. “Where’ve you been?” he asked.
She gestured toward the trees. “I needed some privacy. Where have you been?”
“Talking to an old friend.”
“Oh?” She stared at him, one hand clutching the blanket, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.
He nodded, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.
Trey clenched his hands, his gaze sliding away from hers, and then he stood up.
Amanda looked up at him, afraid to speak, afraid to move for fear she might shatter into a million pieces.
He closed the distance between them, his hands folding over her shoulders. “I was talking to Red Shawl.”
His admission left her feeling physically weak.
“What did she want?”
“She told me she knew how difficult it must be for me to have a wife who was not Apache, who didn’t understand our ways. She hinted, rather strongly, that she wouldn’t mind being my second wife.”
“Oh, really?” Amanda exclaimed. “And what did you tell her?”
“Calm down, sweetheart. I told her you were woman enough for me.”
“Calm down! Calm down! I am calm.”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing softly as he drew her up against him. “I can see that.”
“Second wife! The day you take a second wife is the day they’ll be handing you your head on a platter!”
“I’m glad you’re not jealous.”
She glared at him, and then felt the sick wave of jealousy rush out of her. She couldn't stay mad at him, not when he was looking at her like that. “Well,” she admitted, “maybe just a little. Okay, a lot!”
He held her tightly. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go to bed.”
* * * * *
The next day, the news that Trey and Red Shawl had met alone in the woods was suddenly, mysteriously, being whispered among the women throughout the camp. Not that it was really much of a mystery, Amanda thought. She hadn’t said anything. She knew Trey hadn’t said anything, and she was pretty sure no one else had been in the woods the night before. That only left Red Shawl. Second wife indeed!
“Over my dead body,” Amanda muttered under her breath as she rolled their bedding. “I’d as soon invite a rattlesnake into our lodge.”
“You say something?”
She looked up to find Trey regarding her, one brow raised inquisitively. “No, no
thing.”
He grunted softly. “You ready to go?”
“Whenever you are.”
* * * * *
It was another long day of travel. Amanda couldn’t take her eyes from Trey. Clad in clout and moccasins and mounted on the flashy white stallion, his long black hair trailing down his back, Trey left a never-to-be-forgotten image indelibly printed on her mind.
They stopped every couple of hours to rest the horses and again at mid-day for something to eat. Women took advantage of the time to nurse their infants, or let their toddlers run out some of their boundless energy. Amanda used the time to stretch her legs, or steal a kiss from Trey when no one was looking.
It was late afternoon when they stopped for the night alongside a shallow stream. It was a pretty spot, quiet, peaceful. While Trey took the horses down to the water to drink, Amanda spread their blankets on the ground and then went in search of wood for a fire.
She walked along the edge of the stream, winding in and out of the scrub brush and trees, pausing now and then to pick up a stick here and there. The camp was out of sight when she felt a sudden prickle along the back of her neck, a sense of someone watching her. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked back the way she had come, but there was no one in sight.
“Probably just your imagination,” she muttered, and continued on her way.
But the feeling persisted. She told herself she was just being silly, but the sense of being watched wouldn’t go away and a few minutes later she turned around and headed back to camp, her footsteps quickening.
She was almost running when she came upon the snake. Coiled in a patch of fading sunlight, it hissed at her, its tail rattling a warning. She came to an abrupt halt, sweat popping out on her brow, fear like a dead weight in the pit of her stomach. What was she supposed to do? Run? Back up? Stay put? She couldn’t seem to draw her gaze from the snake’s triangular-shaped head, or the forked tongue continually darting in and out of its mouth.
She glanced around. There was nowhere to go but back. The stream was to her left, a thick stand of spiny brush to her right.
“Amanda. Amanda!”
She looked up, relief washing through her when she saw Trey standing a few yards beyond the snake.
“Stay there,” he said quietly. “Don’t move.”
She nodded, watching in horror as he picked up a long stick and walked closer to the snake. In one smooth gesture, he slipped the branch under the snake, and flipped it into the water.
With a sob, Amanda dropped the wood she had been carrying and hurled herself into Trey’s arms.
“Hey, it’s alright.”
She nodded, unable to stop the shivers that coursed through her body. “I k-know. But I was so…so…scared.”
“Of course you were.” His hand stroked her hair, her back. “Come on, let’s go back to camp.”
“All…all right.”
Gathering the wood she had dropped, Trey tucked it under his arm. “You did the right thing,” he said, taking her hand. “If you see another one, just don’t move. Unusual, for them to be out this late in the day.”
When they got back to camp, Trey insisted she sit down. He built a fire, made a pot of coffee, and poured her a cup. Coffee was one of the few things that was familiar in this alien world and she sipped it slowly, grateful for the warmth seeping through her.
Around them, the Apaches settled down for the night. Warriors tethered their favorite horses nearby. Mothers fed their children and tucked them into bed. Teenage boys went to guard the horse herd; seasoned warriors went to keep watch over the camp. A baby's cry was quickly silenced.
Later, after dinner, several adults and children gathered around Walker on the Wind. Amanda sat between Trey and Yellow Calf Woman. It was a lovely night. The moon was full and yellow. A buttermilk moon, her grandmother used to call it. Millions of stars twinkled like silver fireflies against an indigo sky. She rested her head on Trey’s shoulder as Walker on the Wind began to speak.
“When the People emerged from the underworld, they traveled toward the south for four days,” Walker on the Wind began. “They had only two kinds of seeds for food. The seeds were ground between two flat stones.
“Near the place where they made their camp on the fourth night, one tipi stood apart from the others. When those who lived in the tipi were gone, a raven came and left a bow and a quiver of arrows on the lodge pole. When the children who lived in the lodge came out, they looked inside the quiver and found some meat. They ate it, and grew very fat.
“When the mother returned to the lodge, she saw the grease on the hands of her children. They told her what had happened. The woman quickly told the story to her husband. The members of the tribe marveled at the food that had made the children so fat in such a short time.
“When Raven learned that his meat had been stolen, he flew to his home in the mountains to the east. A bat followed Raven. He went back and told the People where the raven lived. That night, the chief of the People called a council meeting. He chose several brave warriors to go after Raven in hopes of getting more of Raven’s meat.
“The warriors reached the camp of the ravens four days later. When they could not find the meat, they decided to spy on the ravens. That night, the diyini changed an Apache boy into a puppy. They left him behind to spy on the ravens.
“Next morning, a young raven found the puppy in the abandoned camp of the People. He asked if he could keep the puppy under his blanket. Later, the puppy peeked out and saw one of the raven’s remove a flat stone from the fireplace and disappear inside. A short time later, the raven returned leading a buffalo, which was killed and eaten by the ravens.”
Amanda glanced around. Though she was certain the Indians had heard the story many times before, both the children and the adults listened in wide-eyed wonder as Walker on the Wind went on with the tale.
“The puppy spied on the ravens for four days. When he was certain where the ravens obtained their food, he resumed his own shape. On the fifth morning, holding a white feather in one hand and a black one in the other, he went through the hole in the fireplace.
“In the underworld, he saw four buffalo. He put the white feather into the mouth of the one nearest to him and told it to follow him. But the first buffalo told him to give the feather to the last buffalo. The boy did as he was told, but the last buffalo told him to give the feather back to the first one.
“’You are now king of all the animals,” the boy said to the buffalo.
“When the boy returned to the world above, all the animals that were on the earth followed after him. The noise of their passage to the world above woke one of the ravens, who quickly closed the opening. When he saw that all the animals followed the Apache boy, he said, ‘When you kill any of these animals, save the eyes for me’.
“The boy followed the trail of the People for four days before he overtook them. A short time later, they all returned to the camp of the People. When they arrived, the chief killed the first buffalo. The Apache boy remembered the raven and saved the eyes.
“There was an old woman who was annoyed with one of the deer that ate part of her lodge covering. Grabbing a branch from the fire, the old woman hit the deer on the nose and the ash left a white mark that can still be seen on the descendants of that deer.
“‘From this day on, you will avoid mankind,’ she declared. ‘Your nose will warn you when man is close.’
“That was the end of the harmony that had existed between the People and the animals. Day by day, the animals drifted further and further away from the Apache. The People prayed for their return. From then on, it was mostly at night that the deer could be seen, but not too close, because they remembered the old woman’s warning.
“The People soon developed their skill in using the bow and arrow so they could hunt the deer, and especially the buffalo, for the meat they loved so much.”
After murmuring their thanks to Walker on the Wind for the story, the Indians drifted away to their own fire
s. Trey and Amanda bid Walker on the Wind and Yellow Calf Woman goodnight and went to bed.
Bone weary after a day in the saddle and her fright with the snake, Amanda snuggled close to Trey, grateful for his nearness, his warmth. Whatever else might be wrong, being in his arms was where she belonged.
Chapter Twenty-Five
During the next week, Amanda was plagued by mishaps. One evening, she left a pot of stew cooking while she went to draw water from the river and when she got back, the pot was on the ground, the stew soaking into the earth. One morning, the wood she had collected the night before was soaking wet and wouldn’t burn, forcing her to scrounge for more tinder to burn hot enough to dry it, delaying breakfast. The moccasins she had made for Trey disappeared.
“I think someone’s doing it on purpose,” she said to Trey that night. “I’ll give you three guesses who it is, and the first two don’t count.”
“Who?”
“That woman, Red Shawl, that’s who.”
“Red Shawl! Why would she steal a pair of my moccasins?”
“Cause she’s jealous, that’s why. It wouldn’t surprise me if she put that snake in my path, too.”
He smiled at that. “Red Shawl’s no medicine woman, Amanda.”
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