Wind Rider

by Connie Mason

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Lieutenant? With patrols out, we’re short of men right now. Just as soon as we ride to quell one uprising, the Indians strike in another place. We’ve spread ourselves as thin as we dare. Our men can’t seem to find their way to Indian strongholds due to bad maps and inept guides.”

  “The trader assures me he can find Red Cloud’s camp. But we must go alone; otherwise we will not be allowed to enter the camp. Do I have your permission to go after the girl, sir?”

  “It’s your life, Lieutenant. Since you’re so determined, you may go. I will give you a message to carry to Red Cloud. We have prepared a new treaty and need his signature. Tell him that the Plains tribes may keep the Powder River country in return for permission to build forts and roads. I will give you a copy of the treaty for him to sign. Tell him some minor chiefs have already signed. You may also tell him that releasing the woman captive will help cement friendship between our people.”

  A slow smile curved Gilmore’s lips. His mission was to be more important than he originally thought. “You can count on me, sir. I will not return without Miss Hannah McLin. And, hopefully, Red Cloud’s signature on the treaty.”

  Chapter Ten

  Fear for her husband’s safety plagued Hannah during Wind Rider’s prolonged absence. She performed her duties and tried not to anger Spotted Doe during those infrequent times when they met. Coyote appeared regularly with game he had killed, and Woman-Who-Waddles showed her how to skin and cook his catch. She knew nothing of what was happening outside the village, despite the fact that runners arrived frequently with messages for Red Cloud. Obviously, no one thought her important enough to be kept informed of events taking place in the outside world.

  Over two weeks had passed since the men of the village had left. Hannah was preparing the noon meal for her and Woman-Who-Waddles when one of the men from the Shield society rode into camp. He reined in before Red Cloud’s tepee and slid from his horse, obviously in a great state of agitation. Red Cloud came out to greet him. An excited exchange of words ensued, accompanied with much gesturing. By now, men, women, and children had crowded around their chief, listening with great interest to the conversation.

  Hannah spotted Coyote in the crowd and rushed to join him, since she knew he understood a smattering of English. Using a combination of English, Indian words, and sign language, she asked him what was happening.

  “The trader has been spotted traveling toward the village,” he said in halting English. “He brings a stranger with him.”

  ”A stranger?”

  Coyote nodded. “Howling Wolf wants to know if the Shield society should kill them before they reach the village.”

  “What does Red Cloud say?”

  Coyote withheld his answer until Red Cloud finished speaking and sat down outside his lodge, his legs crossed, his face stoic.

  “He told Howling Wolf to let them enter the village. He does not think the trader would bring a stranger if he presented a danger to the village. Red Cloud will listen to what they have to say. Perhaps the stranger bears a message from the Great White Father in Washington, or the commission who makes the treaties.”

  The people slowly dispersed, whispering among themselves, speculating on the reason for the trader’s appearance so soon after his last visit. Hannah was curious herself, wondering what the man with Trader wanted. She thought the stranger a brave man for venturing into an Indian stronghold without a company of soldiers behind him. Or more likely a corrupt one, given what she knew about the trader. Did the stranger also deal in smuggled arms?

  Less than an hour passed before the two men rode into the village. Trader had no pack mules with him, which meant there would be no trading taking place. Red Cloud still sat in front of his lodge, waiting patiently. When the two riders approached he rose. His stark features appeared carved in granite, his proud bearing giving mute testimony to his determination to stand fast against the enemy. The people drifted toward Red Cloud’s lodge, gathering in small groups as the two men dismounted and greeted their chief.

  Trader greeted Red Cloud in the Sioux language, and after Red Cloud returned the greeting Trader began speaking rapidly. Hannah could not follow the conversation. But when Trader gazed out over the crowd, spotted her, and nudged the man standing quietly beside him, panic seized her. They both stared at her, as if they knew her. She wanted to turn and run, but her legs refused to obey the command. When Hannah thought she heard her name mentioned, her heart plummeted to her feet.

  “Why have you brought an enemy to my village?” Red Cloud asked Trader.

  “This is Lieutenant Gilmore from Fort Laramie. He comes in peace. As you can see, he does not wear his uniform. He brings a message to you from the army.”

  “You are welcome in peace,” Red Cloud replied, turning his piercing gaze on Gilmore. Though he was angry with the army, he still harbored slim hopes of living in peace with the white eyes. If a peace could not be reached, he feared all Plains Indians would be slain or forced to live on reservations. “Tell me about this new treaty.”

  “Lieutenant Gilmore brings a new peace treaty from the fort. Many great chiefs have already signed it. The commission hopes you will sign it as well.”

  Red Cloud stared intently at the young man standing before him. With an impatient gesture, he gave Gilmore permission to speak. Gilmore cleared his throat and said, “My superiors strongly advise that you sign the treaty, Red Cloud.”

  Trader started to translate, but Red Cloud gave the man a withering glance and said, “I understand the white man’s tongue. What does the treaty say?” Though Red Cloud was a hostile chief, even he knew it was important to listen to all proposals.

  “The treaty gives the Plains Indians full rights to Powder River country in exchange for permission to build forts and roads/’

  Red Cloud gave a snort of disgust. “Powder River country is already ours. Our people are here in force. We will stay.”

  “What about the chiefs who have already signed the treaty?”

  “Name them,” Red Cloud demanded.

  Gilmore cleared his throat and named a few chiefs of several small friendly bands. Not one important chief was included in the list.

  “I will not touch the pen,” Red Cloud declared, “nor will any other important Sioux, Cheyenne, or Arapaho chief. Tell the commission we will fight for the right to live where we please. If they try to build forts they will be destroyed. Travelers through our territory will not be welcomed.”

  Lt. Gilmore knew that Gen. Carrington had been sent to Fort Laramie with 600 infantrymen to keep the Powder River country safe for white travelers. In order to do so, roads and forts would have to be built through the area.

  “Is that your final word?”

  “I have spoken.”

  If Red Cloud expected Gilmore to leave, he was mistaken. The lieutenant merely pocketed the treaty and stood his ground.

  “There is another matter Lieutenant Gilmore wishes to discuss with you, Red Cloud,” Trader said, trying to defuse a potentially volatile situation. “It has nothing to do with the treaty. I ask that you listen.”

  Red Cloud looked at Gilmore and motioned for him to sit down. Gilmore understood immediately, dropping down to his haunches while Red Cloud lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs in front of him. “Speak, blue coat. What more do you have to say?”

  “It’s about...” He turned his gaze in Hannah’s direction, stared intently at her for a few moments, and then returned it to Red Cloud. “It’s about a white captive in your village. A woman.”

  Red Cloud pretended ignorance. “There are no white captives in the village at this time.”

  Hannah watched the man with growing dismay. When he singled her out in the crowd she flushed and looked away. But he wasn’t the only one staring at her now. People clustered nearby in small bands turned to stare at her. She wanted to turn and run but couldn’t make her legs move. She was certain she had never seen the man before. Tall and slim, w
ith brown hair, he appeared to be in his mid-thirties. Suddenly she heard the Indian word for soldier and knew he had come from the fort. But why? And what did he want from her?

  Rather than openly calling Red Cloud a liar, Gilmore swiveled his head in Hannah’s direction. Then he pointed to her, so that there was no mistaking about whom he was speaking. “What about her? Is she not a white woman?”

  Red Cloud frowned. “That is Little Sparrow. She belongs to Wind Rider, a Cheyenne warrior.”

  “Is she his captive?”

  “She is his woman/’

  Gilmore frowned, aware of what that meant. “May I speak with her?”

  Red Cloud considered the request for a moment before giving his answer. “You have my permission, but it will do you little good. She cannot leave the village without Wind Rider’s permission. And he is not here.”

  “Releasing the woman would impress the army and improve relations between our two nations,” Gilmore pointed out. “It might even bring more favorable terms in a new peace treaty.” Gilmore knew he was speaking out of turn and had no right to make promises, but he felt justified. He had gotten this far; leaving without the woman would be admitting defeat. After the defeat of the South he had vowed never to be a loser again.

  “It is not my decision.” Gilmore was not fooled by the chief’s words. Red Cloud’s people would obey him instantly. “Perhaps she does not wish to leave. She seems quite happy with Wind Rider.”

  “Go talk to the woman,” Trader urged, “while I speak with the chief. I know him. If I can convince him that it will help his cause with the commission, he will agree. Go.”

  Gilmore nodded and lifted himself to his feet. He turned to peruse the crowd, saw Hannah lingering at the edge of the circle, and strode in her direction. The crowd parted to let him pass. Hannah saw him coming and turned to flee.

  “Miss McLin, please don’t run away! I mean you no harm.

  Hannah paused. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Lieutenant Trent Gilmore. I’m here to help you.”

  “How?”

  Gilmore gave her a perplexed frown. Was she dense? “By taking you away from here.”

  Hannah glared at him. “So you can return me to Mr. Harley? No, thank you. I’d rather stay here.”

  Gilmore blanched. “What have they done to you? Surely you don’t mean it.”

  “Oh, but I do, Lieutenant. Did Red Cloud not tell you I’m married to a Cheyenne warrior?”

  “He told me you were the woman of a Cheyenne warrior, but I’m sure it’s against your will. Red Cloud said nothing about a marriage. Besides, a heathen marriage, if there was one, isn’t legal; you know that.”

  Hannah gnawed on her bottom lip. “How did you know about me?”

  “The trader notified the fort after he saw you in Red Cloud’s camp. He saw a flyer describing a runaway indentured servant and recognized you from the description. There’s a reward for your return.”

  “Is that what this is about; the reward?” Her voice held a note of contempt.

  “I volunteered to accompany Mr. Wilton because I couldn’t bear the thought of a white woman being held captive by Indians.” He didn’t mention the recognition and promotion it might bring him. “I’ll do everything in my power to convince Red Cloud to send you back to your own kind.”

  Hannah gave an unladylike snort. “If by my own kind you mean Mr. Harley, I prefer to remain with Wind Rider. I want nothing to do with people like him.”

  A jolt of pity shot through Gilmore. Evidently, Harley had mistreated her; otherwise she wouldn’t feel as she did. But what kind of life did she have with the Indians? Did she feel some misplaced loyalty toward the Indian who used her as his whore? Gilmore thought it unlikely that she’d survive an armed confrontation between whites and Indians, which would surely take place, and decided he’d be doing her a favor by rescuing her. Not to mention how it would help his career.

  “You don’t mean that, Miss McLin. If it will make you feel any better, I’ll personally speak with your master when he comes for you and impress upon him the rules governing treatment of indentured servants. I’m sure he will see the light and treat you as you should be treated.”

  Hannah’s face clouded. She couldn’t count the times she had begged Wind Rider to release her, but now she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving, of existing without him. Holding back the tears, she clapped her hand to her mouth and fled.

  Gilmore had no idea what he had said to cause Miss McLin such distress. He knew she had been a captive for several weeks and realized her spirit had probably been broken by her captor. Surely she didn’t care for the Indian, did she? The thought was so disgusting, he pushed it from his mind. She was frightened, he told himself, and helpless. She was also beautiful; he had noticed that immediately. She was desperately in need of a protector, and he silently vowed to fight for her release from captivity and to gain her trust. Her beauty was too vibrant to waste on an Indian. He had other plans for her. When Hannah disappeared into her tepee he turned to rejoin Red Cloud and Trader.

  “I’ve just about got Red Cloud convinced,” Trader whispered when Gilmore dropped down beside him. What he failed to mention was the promise of another delivery of guns and whiskey if Red Cloud turned the girl over to the lieutenant.

  “What did Little Sparrow say?” Red Cloud asked curiously. He gave little thought to Wind Rider’s feelings, for he knew the warrior had a second wife to ease his sorrow should he decide to send the white woman back to her people.

  “She is confused,” Gilmore said carefully. “But I’m certain she will offer no resistance. It can’t be easy for her living here in captivity.”

  Red Cloud merely grunted. After a thoughtful pause he said, “Are you certain that releasing the white woman will please the commission and gain concessions?”

  Gilmore replied as truthfully as he knew how. “The commission will be grateful for the release of Miss McLin. As you know, one of the conditions for peace is the release of all white captives. Your gesture will impress the commission, make it anxious to seek a peaceful resolution to the problems facing our nations.”

  “They will make changes in the terms of the peace treaty?”

  Gilmore lowered his eyes. “I cannot promise. But if it were up to me, I would make the terms more favorable to your people. I shall recommend it, in fact. That is all I can promise.”

  “I will consider it and give you my answer tomorrow. Tonight you will be my guests. My wives will prepare a feast in your honor.”

  Hannah refused to leave the tepee or join the festivities taking place in the center of the village. Woman-Who-Waddles told her that Red Cloud was considering whether to send her back to her people, and Hannah tried not to think about it. If she left the village now, she would never see Wind Rider again, never experience the magic of his loving, never hear the deep rumble of his voice. God, she couldn’t bear it.

  * * *

  Lt. Gilmore had eaten his fill of Indian fare, finding it unusual but tasty. But he was disappointed by Miss McLin’s absence. Had she been forbidden to attend? he wondered curiously. When Red Cloud rose, signaling the end of the festivities, Gilmore waited until the chief walked away before making his own departure. He had spread his bedroll nearby in the woods, and now he slowly made his way to his bed. Trader had stayed behind to negotiate with one of the women who was known to sell her favors, but Gilmore wanted nothing to do with Indian women and left to seek his rest.

  “Lieutenant! I wish to speak with you.”

  Gilmore swung around and saw a woman standing behind him. It was dark, so he couldn’t make out her features. He hoped she wasn’t going to offer herself to him.

  “What do you want?”

  “I am Spotted Doe.” The woman advanced until Gilmore could see her face. She was a dark-eyed beauty with a voluptuous body, and he was almost tempted to accept her offer should she make one. She didn’t.

  “I am glad you have come for Little Sparrow. She is not happy here.
”

  “How do you know? Why should you care?”

  “I am Wind Rider’s woman.”

  Gilmore stared at her, perplexed. “I thought Miss McLin was Wind Rider’s woman.” Spotted Doe smiled slyly. Obviously, he wasn’t acquainted with the Sioux custom of taking more than one wife.

  “Little Sparrow is Wind Rider’s captive. Do you understand? She is his whore. I am his wife.’

  “But Red Cloud said ...”

  “Red Cloud does not want you to know the truth. Wind Rider is a cruel man. Little Sparrow fears him. You must be forceful if you wish to take Little Sparrow with you.”

  Gilmore’s eye’s narrowed. “Why should you care?”

  “I have come to know Little Sparrow very well, and she has expressed her desire many times to return to her own kind,” she lied. “Wind Rider beats her, and I am not without feeling for her plight. You must take her and leave before Wind Rider returns.”

  “I promise I will do my best,” Gilmore said through compressed lips. The thought of leaving the helpless young woman in the clutches of a cruel savage like Wind Rider, whoever he might be, was reprehensible.

  Suppressing a smile, Spotted Doe nodded and melted into the darkness. But her words left Gilmore more confused than ever. When he had spoken earlier to Miss McLin she had said nothing about being abused by Wind Rider. In fact, she was quite adamant about remaining. Obviously, she was too frightened to speak the truth.

  * * *

  Hannah awoke the next morning in a state of great agitation. She prayed Lt. Gilmore would fail in his efforts to convince Red Cloud to return her to Mr. Harley. She felt certain that if Wind Rider was here he wouldn’t allow her to be sent away, but to Red Cloud she was just a useful bargaining tool in his negotiations with the commission. She went to the river to bathe, and when she returned Coyote was waiting for her.