Bride of the Wild

by Carré White

  “Her name is Singing Bird.”

  “I thought she could speak English?”

  “I’m sure she can. I’m certain she understands us, don’t you?”

  Singing Bird sat next to Silas, who stared at her with his mouth open. “Who in the devil are you? Have you been kidnapped, my dear? You’re not Indian.”

  She took a deep breath, staring directly at me. “Yes, I speak English. No, I’m not Indian, but I am now.” It was then I noticed her belly, which swelled beneath her dress. “I’ve been with this tribe for four years.”

  When we had traveled west by wagon train, our group had been attacked. Women and children had been kidnapped. I stared at Singing Bird, wondering if she might be someone I knew. “Daisy?”

  She blinked rapidly. “What?”

  “Are you Daisy Wentworth? It was longer than four years ago, but I knew a girl who looked just like you on a wagon train. This is either a wild coincidence or I’ve just found Daisy Wentworth.”

  Silas stared at her, his mouth slack. The effects of the whiskey lingered. “I’ll be darned. If that’s true, that’s incredible.”

  Micah gave me the urn. “Have a sip. It’s clean water.”

  “Thank you.” I lifted the pottery to my mouth, as cold fluid poured down my throat. “Oh, it’s wonderful.”

  “Saffron,” murmured Singing Bird, who had been staring at me.

  I gave the urn to Micah, crawling over to Daisy, who I wrapped my arms around. “Oh, my goodness! I can’t believe it! I was so worried about you. I cried every night for weeks worrying about you. I always thought the worst, and then I thought you’d perished.” I held her at arm’s length. “And here you are. You’re alive and well.” Tears of joy filled my eyes, but I wondered why she had not hugged me back. She had stiffly tolerated the embrace.

  “I am.”

  “What happened to you? How did you survive?” I settled in next to her, holding her hand, which felt work-roughened.

  “It was the Comanche who took me first. I was with them for two years, and then they traded me to the Utes. I married a brave. I have a son. He’s hunting with his father now.”

  “You poor thing.” I would never be able to fathom the horror she had suffered.

  “The first two years were the worst. We lived on the plains, but I wasn’t alone. There were other women too. We were all treated the same. I tried to be as helpful as possible, and I never argued. If you did not do as they demanded, you were beaten. Being as young as I was, I found an ally with an older couple, and they took me in. I helped them tan hides and make baskets and things. I even slept in the same bed. They were kind to me, but when the man died, I found myself in trouble. The woman didn’t have a need for me anymore.” She glanced at Silas, noting his wound. “That looks painful.”

  “It is, but it’s the least of my worries at the moment.”

  “What happened then?” I leaned near, eager to hear more.

  “A group of Utes came to trade, and they gave me to them. I was older then, and I caught the eye of a brave. His name was To-Quo-Ne. He took me to be his wife.”

  “How dreadful.”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t as bad as when I was first taken. I suffered repeated beatings at the hands of the Comanche. To-Quo-Ne taught me the language. He was kind and giving, never striking me once. I’m with him now. My son, Tabby, is three-years-old.” She smiled slightly. “You may feel sorry for me, but you need not. I’ve grown accustomed to this life, and I’ve no desire to leave it.”

  “They have a way of brainwashing people, these savages,” spat Silas.

  “Call them what you will, but they are my people now.” She lifted her chin slightly, an air of defiance lingering around her.

  “I’m just happy you’re alive. You look healthy.” I ogled her glowing skin and clear, hazel eyes. “You don’t have a scratch on you.”

  “I am happy.” She touched my face. “I never thought I’d see you again, but I’m glad. I wondered about you too over the years, but that life is so long past. I know my parents and siblings are dead. I was the only one of our group who survived the Comanches. The others weakened and became sick, while I thrived with the older couple. I did whatever I needed to carry on.” A little Indian boy darted towards us, his tiny feet encased in sandals. She held out her hands, as the boy ran to her. “My Tabby!” She hugged him, smiling. “This is my son,” she said proudly.

  The little boy’s glossy, dark hair hung to his shoulders. He hugged his mother, saying something in Ute. The father, who approached, stared at us with cold, hard eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat at the sight of him, noting the breadth of his shoulders, which were laced with sinew.

  Oh, my word. He looks like he wants to murder us.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Silas grimaced, cowering while grasping his belly. Micah stared with interest, although his hand had gone into his pocket, where he had hidden a knife. I grasped Daisy’s hand, worried something dreadful might occur, but she smiled, speaking to her husband, who responded in a deep, raspy voice. Micah understood this exchange, because his hand slipped free of the pocket.

  “You don’t have to fear To-Quo-Ne. He’s always ornery around the whites. He means you no harm.”

  “Tell that to the men he killed today,” muttered Silas. “We are the only survivors of our party. Your countrymen killed five of our men. This here,” he pointed at his stomach, “is also their handiwork. I might die of infection soon enough.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She glanced at her husband, speaking in his language. He gestured towards us, answering her. “He says you people have no right to encroach on our lands. If you had any sense, you’d stay away.”

  This incensed Silas, his face darkening with rage.

  “I’d just stay quiet, if I were you,” warned Micah. “We’re a hairsbreadth from the same outcome. Our fate is being debated as we speak. The chief has yet to decide what to do with us. I wouldn’t cause a scene.” Micah glanced at To-Quo-Ne, uttering something in Ute. The brave fixed him with a steady stare, and then, to everyone’s astonishment, he laughed. Pointing a finger at Silas, the brave spoke again, continuing to chuckle.

  “What did they say?” I whispered to Daisy.

  “The mountain man told my husband the blonde is a weakling and a simpleton and his words are empty. He should not be listened to or taken seriously.”

  Mercifully, Silas had not overheard that, but I glanced at Micah, giving him a chastising look. “For shame, Mr. Blaylock.” But I wasn’t truly angry, because it had lightened the mood, relieving tension.

  He shrugged. “It’s the God’s honest truth.” Mirth shone in his eyes.

  The little boy stared at me, his sweet face filled with interest. “You are a handsome little man,” I said. I had wondered what had happened to Daisy over the years, and, knowing the truth, it felt bittersweet. She would not leave the Utes now, nor would anyone ask her to.

  She had gotten to her feet, coming to stand by her husband. Several Indians passed this way, eyeing us with distrust and interest, wondering at the white captives who now occupied the abandoned fire. A few children approached as well, shy, but inquisitive, yet they had not come any nearer, lingering by the bushes and chatting happily. Seeing To-Quo-Ne and Tabby among us, they continued to look, wondering what would happen next.

  Daisy spoke with her husband, and then she said, “You’re waiting on Chief Quarat to decide what to do with you. I know you’re scared, but I have seen them let captives go. It’s wise to remain as calm and quiet as possible.”

  “How long do you think it’ll take before they come to a decision?” I asked.

  “Hours. He’s consulting his medicine man.”

  “Can he do anything for Silas?”

  She shrugged. “I can ask, but I don’t know.”

  Tabby inched closer to me, eyeballing my torn skirt, which was dusty and stained. The calico fabric had a pattern, which he seemed to find interesting. “Do you like my d
ress?”

  He hadn’t understood a single word, staring at me.

  “It’s the color of your eyes,” said his mother. “We don’t see blue eyes here. Mine are hazel.”

  Silas groaned, scowling. “Ouch. This blasted thing.” He gripped his side.

  The whiskey had worn off, and now he felt pain. “Have some water.” I reached for the urn, holding it up for him.

  “Thank you, Saffron.”

  “I’ll see about food,” said Daisy. “I’ve dried deer meat you can have.”

  She walked away, but her husband stayed, staring at us, his form imposing and fierce-looking in breechcloths and leather leggings. His long, black hair hung over muscled shoulders. Micah spoke again, capturing his attention, and they bantered for a while, the brave’s stern features softening. He came and sat by Micah, which surprised me, but Mr. Blaylock had the advantage, because he knew the language and he practiced the art of diplomacy.

  Although these people had murdered most of our hunting party, revenge would be impossible to achieve, because they outnumbered us and we lacked weapons. We would have to humble ourselves to gain freedom. If we survived, the news of these events would be passed on to the authorities, and the cavalry would step in and seek retribution. Seeing the Utes in their camp and Daisy with her husband and family gave me an entirely different perspective on things, but the fact remained that we had been ambushed without reason, and our men had paid the ultimate price.

  When Daisy returned, she brought a basket with her, treading quietly in soft-looking moccasins towards our fire pit. “This should fill you up. Goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve spoken English. It sounds strange to my ears.”

  Micah and To-Quo-Ne continued to prattle, laughing and gesturing, as if they had been friends for years. Micah, sensing my appraisal, glanced at me, saying, “I told him we have no quarrel with the Indians. I made it clear we weren’t here to take lands or cause war. I don’t know how much of a difference that’ll make, though.”

  “We should escape,” murmured Silas. “I got a plan.”

  “You can barely walk,” I whispered. “That would be impossible.”

  “Staying here, waiting on some filthy Indian to decide my fate is absurd.” He spat. “I’ve better things to do.”

  “You’re welcome to the food.” Daisy eyed me. “You can wash up by the river, if you want.”

  I got the impression she wished to speak to me alone. “All right.” Would they even allow us to go off together? Getting to my feet, I approached my friend, and she took my hand. “Will you get in trouble for this?”

  “No. They trust me. They trust my judgment.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “It was hard won.”

  Wickiups spotted the camp, the brush-covered huts blending in with the environment. The inhabitants tended fires and watched over children, while Indians came and went, each person having some sort of job to do. The stream in question ran swiftly, and there were people in it, bathing and fishing. We came to the edge, standing upon rocks, the water smelling of fish. I bent to wash my face and arms, scrubbing as much dust off as possible.

  “You’re terribly filthy,” said Daisy.

  “We were caught in an avalanche. Your people caused it.”

  “I’m sorry five of your party died. I didn’t know that, but it’s hardly surprising. We have the right to protect our own.”

  “And now we’ll have lots of widows and orphans in Fern Valley, including our esteemed sheriff. If we’re allowed to go, that’s the one thing I dread, having to tell them what happened. I doubt we’ll even be able to bring the bodies back for a decent burial.” Bitterness laced my tone.

  “You knew the risks entering the forest. Our camp won’t be here for long, especially after the massacre. We know the Army will come now. It’s one of many things our chief is in council for.”

  I sat back on my heels. “I don’t want to argue about this, Daisy. I’m sick to my stomach about everything’s that happened today. I’m praying to God we can go home. My father and sister and brother are waiting for me. I have a life to get back to.”

  “Who is this Silas person? Is he your beau?”

  “He was. I ended it with him yesterday.”

  “Good. I don’t like him in the least. The other’s in love with you.”

  I blinked. “H-how do you know that?”

  “He said so. He spoke about it with my husband.”

  “I had no clue.” Micah had admitted being in love with me? This knowledge left me strangely pleased, something sweet fluttering in my belly.

  “He hasn’t a good thing to say about the blonde.”

  “I suppose not. Silas can rub people the wrong way, but it doesn’t really matter at the moment. I’ve more important things to worry about.”

  “I hope our chief releases you. Having Micah, who speaks our language, might just be the key to your release. He’s made it clear you were only a hunting party. You’ve done us a service too, because that bear had been causing trouble.”

  “There were more than one. The female attacked our farmhouse, killing my maid and an Indian friend. We’ve had many instances such as this. People I know are gone now. We were only trying to protect our community.” Tears flooded my eyes at the thought of all the families that would be devastated by the loss of their husbands and fathers. “I’m trying to stay strong, but whenever I think about all we’ve lost and what it means, it’s hard.”

  She placed her arm over my shoulder. “This is not an easy life. If you had seen how the Comanche treated me, you would’ve been shocked. When they first took me, all I could think about was how you had escaped. How you were warm and comfortable in your wagon with your family, while mine had been murdered. I was black and blue from being beaten for months and starving and filthy. I thought my spirit had been broken, and, perhaps, it was, but I endured. Then I met To-Quo-Ne, and he saved me. I’d been a shell of a person before. I had splintered into a thousand little pieces, and he put them all back together again.”

  I smiled through the tears. “I’m so sorry, Daisy. You’ve had it far worse than I could ever imagine. I’m thankful you’re alive and well. I can see the respect your husband has for you. I hope you live a long and happy life together. I shall hold you in my prayers. I’ve prayed for you for years. I always worried about you. I felt guilt for surviving when so many perished. The Lord hasn’t taken me yet. I should’ve died on the mountain today, but I’m still here.” I said vehemently, “I don’t want to die just yet. There’s so much I have to do. I long for children, just like your little Tabby. Your son is sweet and adorable. I think you’re terribly fortunate. You have everything I want.”

  It looked like she fought back tears. “I held resentment in my heart over what happened. I confess, I cursed God. I thought He had forsaken me. He had taken everything I held dear in one fell swoop, but I have since had a change of heart. I don’t pretend to know why some live or why some die. It’s the roll of the dice, I suppose, or bad luck. God can’t prevent tragedies, but He has given me the strength to get back on my feet again. I know you shall overcome whatever obstacles are in your path, Saffron. We’re kindred spirits, after all. I recognize myself in you. We’re both survivors.”

  “Indeed we are.” I wiped away tears, sniffing. “I shall hold my head up high. I’ve done the best I could. I don’t think I could’ve done better.”

  “Will you marry this Micah fella?”

  “Goodness, you ask some strange questions. I haven’t even courted him. He hasn’t asked. It’s far too soon for that. I’ve other things on my mind. Once I’m home again and free, I’ll consider it.”

  “Then I wish you a long and happy life too, Saffron. I’m sorry I resented you. It was hard not to feel jealously when I was starving and cold, but I was younger then. The worst thing that had ever happened to me before we came west was the passing of my grandmother and the death of a family pet. That hardly prepared me for the Comanche.”

 
“You tell a sobering tale. It’s something I won’t ever forget.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “A little. We ate well last night. I’m anxious about what will happen now.”

  “Our chief does not decide things quickly. I’d expect an answer in the morning.”

  “All right. Then I won’t worry about it tonight.”

  “Let’s go back. Tabby will want to eat soon. His appetite is quite hardy. He eats so much sometimes, I think he has a hollow leg.”

  I laughed at that.

  The afternoon slipped away, the camp shrouded in shadows, while the aroma of cooking filled the air. Daisy and her family returned to their wickiup, while Micah, Silas, and I sat around the fire, grateful for the warmth, as a chill had set in. Because Silas had finished the whiskey, there was nothing left with which to clean his wound. He remained prone in the dirt and muttering occasionally, cursing the Indians for trying to kill him.

  We had eaten the dried meat, grateful to have something in our bellies. I sat across the fire from Micah, who appeared contemplative, staring my way. “Come sit with me.” He patted the space beside him.

  “All right.” I got to my feet.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” I sighed. “I had a good talk with Daisy. It put everything into perspective.”

  “I need to talk to you, Saffron.”

  “Daisy said you told her husband you’re in love with me.” I held my breath, waiting for his denial, but he remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. “Micah?”

  He took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “It’s true. I love you. I wish nothing more than our freedom, so I can take you home and marry you.”

  My mouth fell open.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bluish, yellow flames leapt from the logs in the fire pit, while crickets resonated within the foliage around us. The strange, yet intriguing language of Ute conversations rang out from the various wickiups. The evening had ended on a peaceful note, although we still awaited our fate. The chief had been in consultation for hours now, not having come to a decision yet. I sat with Micah, holding his hand and knowing my life would never be the same again—if I survived this kidnapping.