Wind Rider

by Connie Mason

  “Red Cloud wishes to speak with you,” Hannah stared at him, waiting for him to say something heartening. He knew what she wanted but couldn’t comply. Instead, he said, “There is nothing I can do if Red Cloud decides you are to leave with the blue coat. If Wind Rider was here it would be different.”

  “I know.”

  Woman-Who-Waddles came out of the tepee, interpreted the look on Hannah’s face, and patted her shoulder consolingly. Hannah squeezed the old woman’s hand and hurried after Coyote. They found Red Cloud sitting in front of his lodge. Trader and Lt. Gilmore were already there.

  Red Cloud spoke slowly, so his words would not be misunderstood. “I have given the matter much thought,” he said, addressing Gilmore, “and I have decided not to sign this treaty, but to give the commission one more chance to prepare a peace treaty the Plains Indians can live with. As a gesture of good faith, you may take the woman with you. As you can see, there are no other white captives in the village.”

  Gilmore tried to conceal his jubilation. “You are wise, Red Cloud. The commission will be impressed by your gesture of good faith.”

  “Should we not wait for Wind Rider?” Hannah dared to ask.

  Red Cloud sent her a quelling look, as if her suggestion carried no weight in the matter. “Wind Rider will do what is best for the People/’

  “It will be all right, Miss McLin,” Gilmore said, eager to leave now that Red Cloud had given his permission. “You’ve nothing to fear. Wind Rider won’t dare defy his chief’s orders. He won’t be able to hurt you again. I know how you must have suffered.”

  “No, I...” The words froze in her throat. What would the lieutenant say if she told him she loved Wind Rider? That he’d never hurt her?

  That he was white.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t betray Wind Rider’s trust. If he wanted people to know he was white he’d have to tell them himself.

  “We’ll leave immediately,” Gilmore said brusquely. He’d hoped for the opportunity to question the Indians about the trader’s illegal activities, but he thought it best to leave before the chief changed his mind. Alone and vulnerable, he could not stop the Indians from taking him captive if he angered them. “Get the horses,” he told Trader.

  Hannah’s eyes grew wild. “I don’t wish to leave!”

  Ignoring her plea, Red Cloud rose and walked into his lodge, lowering the flap in obvious dismissal.

  “We must hurry!” Gilmore urged as he took Hannah’s arm and pulled her away from Red Cloud’s lodge.

  “Don’t forget who the reward belongs to,” Trader said.

  Hannah stopped abruptly, digging in her heels and refusing to budge. “Does the reward mean so much to you? Are you to share in it, Lieutenant?”

  “No; that’s not my reason for being here,” Gilmore said with a hint of impatience. “I couldn’t bear the thought of a white woman at the mercy of Indians. The reward will go to Mr. Wilton. I want no part of it.” He would gladly accept a promotion if one came his way, but he kept that bit of information to himself.

  “And I want no part of Mr. Harley,” Hannah returned shortly. “You’d know why if you’d seen how he treated me.”

  “The law says you must return,” Gilmore reminded her, “but if the man isn’t treating you kindly, I’ll speak with him myself and see to it that the law in Denver is informed of his mistreatment.”

  Hannah’s shoulders sagged in defeat. Obviously, there was nothing she could do or say to change Gilmore’s mind or influence Red Cloud. Of one thing she was certain: She’d never see Wind Rider again. He might miss her, but never enough to make him leave his people. She knew he’d be considered a white savage in her world and people wouldn’t be far off the mark. Wind Rider’s love for her, if indeed he loved her, would have to be strong to lure him from his people. And if he did leave, there was nothing he could do to obtain her freedom. Harley owned her services for seven years; that was the law.

  They had reached Woman-Who-Waddles’s tepee now, and Hannah saw the old woman standing by the opening, wringing her hands.

  “I’ll wait outside while you gather your things,” Gilmore said. “But don’t tarry. I don’t trust Red Cloud.”

  “I have no belongings,” Hannah said, “but I would like to say good-bye to Woman-Who-Waddles.” Hannah hugged the old woman fiercely, saddened that she would never see her again. A bond had formed between them despite their differences in language and culture.

  Just then Trader approached, leading three horses. “I talked the chief into giving us a horse for the woman.”

  Woman-Who-Waddles ducked into the tepee and emerged a few minutes later with a bundle, which she thrust into Hannah’s hands. It contained food, a spare dress that had belonged to her dead daughter, a comb made out of buffalo bone, and soap plant leaves. Then she placed a small bag attached to a rawhide thong around her neck. Hannah fingered the bag, aware that Wind Rider wore one that was almost identical.

  “It is a medicine bag,” Woman-Who-Waddles said in Sioux, using words Hannah could understand. “It belonged to my daughter and will bring you luck. You must add your own special talisman to make the medicine more potent.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah murmured, wondering what sort of talisman she could add to the contents of the bag. Suddenly, she thought of something. “Wait here for me,” she told Trader and Gilmore. “I will be right back.”

  Running the short distance to Wind Rider’s tepee, Hannah ducked inside, grateful that Spotted Doe was absent. Rummaging in a parfleche hanging on a pole, she found what she was looking for. She had come across the object one day when she was searching for something else. It was a tiny miniature of two small children. Engraved on the other side in flowery letters were the names “Abby and Ryder Larson.”

  Hannah supposed it was a picture of Wind Rider and his sister, and the names were those that had been given to them by their parents. But she had never questioned him about it; the time just never seemed right. She had never seen Wind Rider look at the small painting, and now she thought he’d not miss it. But to Hannah it would be something precious of his that would remind her of their short time together. She slipped it inside the bag hanging around her neck and hurried to join Trader and Gilmore.

  “Are you ready, Miss McLin?”

  Hannah nodded, too emotionally spent to reply. . Her heart called out to him, knowing he would not answer, that he’d never answer. With Spotted Doe to ease any sadness he might feel over her absence, Wind Rider would not miss her for long, she thought disconsolately. Unfortunately, the same did not hold true for her.

  His name whispered from her lips in a silent prayer. The wind swept it away and carried it across the prairie.

  Wind Rider stood poised atop a flat butte, facing the east, toward the Badlands and home. For the past two weeks he had ridden hard and fast, striking at army supply wagons, attacking columns of blue coats riding into Powder River country, and generally discouraging travelers through Indian territory. He was weary. Weary of raiding, weary of senseless deaths, and eager to go home to Hannah.

  Hannah. Her name moved like a specter across his memory, and his lips stretched in a smile despite his weariness. He recalled how sweetly she had responded to his lovemaking. Her eyes defied the emerald splendor of the dew-kissed prairie grass and her hair challenged the fiery brilliance of the sun. His eyes grew misty as he thought of how bereft she had looked when he’d bid her farewell, perhaps never to see her again if luck deserted him and he did not survive. An ache grew inside him, increasing until his entire body vibrated with it. He missed her so desperately, he imagined he could hear her voice calling to him, wafting to him across the prairie on gentle zephyr wings.

  .. . He heard it more clearly now and cocked his ear to the east. . .. Was there a note of sadness in her voice? ... The wind ruffled his hair and cooled his flesh but did not quench the fire burning inside him. He stood as if carved in stone, listening, remembering, needing ...

  Suddenly Wind Rider stiffened.
He knew. He knew! Hannah needed him. It was time to go home.

  Chapter Eleven

  The War Dog society found the Cheyenne camp by accident. They had not known it was there, for the small band had just recently left Kansas territory for the relative safety of Powder River country. Unfortunately, they hadn’t found safety. Several hours before Wind Rider and his companions stumbled upon the camp it had been attacked by Gen. Conner in his sweep of the area. Twenty-four men and boys over twelve years of age had been killed. Most of the women and children had fled into the woods, but they came back later to prepare their dead for burial. Wind Rider was horrified at the destruction wrought by the army. But more than that, he was devastated to find Summer Moon, the maiden who had married his father, weeping over the body of White Feather. He hadn’t been aware that White Feather was anywhere in the area.

  “Father!” Wind Rider cried, leaping from his horse to kneel beside White Feather’s broken body.

  Summer Moon turned slowly, her eyes hollow, her face gaunt. The cradleboard strapped to her back held a tiny infant. At first the grief-stricken woman didn’t recognize Wind Rider, but when she did she collapsed against his naked chest, shedding tears of fear and anger. “It isn’t fair, Wind Rider. Your father was a brave man. He was taking us to Red Cloud’s camp. He hoped we would be safe in Powder River country. He wanted a better life for his son.”

  “I am sorry, Summer Moon.” His throat was clogged with unshed tears. “Father will always be remembered as a brave man and a wise chief. I will help you prepare his body for burial.”

  Those riding with Wind Rider pitched in to help. While some erected platforms to hold the dead, others packed everything of value that the soldiers had not destroyed. Once the dead had been placed on the platforms the survivors would be taken to Red Cloud’s camp and integrated into his tribe. They stayed the night to allow the women time to mourn their dead and left the next morning. Wind Rider took Summer Moon and her babe up on his horse before him.

  “White Feather knew he was going to die,” Summer Moon said softly. “He told me his death had been revealed to him in a vision. That’s why he wanted to take me and his son to a safe place. But there is no safe place, is there, Wind Rider?”

  “You will be safe with Red Cloud. My wives will take care of you and the babe.”

  “You’re married?” For some reason that surprised Summer Moon. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “My father’s widow and son are no burden. After your period of mourning there will be many men eager to join with you and raise White Feather s son.”

  They reached Red Cloud’s village the next day. Wind Rider was so eager to see Hannah, he could hardly contain his excitement. He looked for her as he rode through the village, but when he didn’t see her a shiver of apprehension slid down his spine. Why hadn’t she turned out with the rest of the village to welcome him? Was she still angiy at him for taking a second wife?

  Red Cloud came out of his lodge to greet them, listening with rising anger as the Cheyenne survivors told of the attack. He was saddened to hear of White Feather’s death and offered his condolences to Wind Rider and Summer Moon. Then he welcomed the remnants of the tribe to his village. The cagey chief said nothing to Wind Rider about Hannah’s absence.

  Wind Rider saw Spotted Doe and placed Summer Moon in her care. He was so anxious to see Hannah that he gave his second wife a few terse directions concerning Summer Moon and led his horse toward the lodge of Woman-Who-Waddles, convinced that he’d find Hannah with the old woman.

  Woman-Who-Waddles waited with a heavy heart for Wind Rider to approach. There was no doubt in her mind that Wind Rider would be angry when he learned Little Sparrow had been sent away.

  “Where is my wife, old woman?” Wind Rider asked curtly.

  “Did Red Cloud not tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” There was silence. “Speak! I want to know where to find my wife.”

  Woman-Who-Waddles’s face crumpled. “She did not want to go.”

  “Go? Go where? Has something happened to Little Sparrow?”

  “Do not listen to the old woman. She prattles senseless words.” Spotted Doe appeared beside Wind Rider, having already settled the exhausted Summer Moon and laid out a pallet so she could rest. “I will tell you what happened.”

  Wind Rider whirled on his heel. His expression was so fierce, Spotted Doe stepped backward. “Speak, Spotted Doe. And it had better be the truth.”

  ”A blue coat from the fort came to take Little Sparrow away. Trader had seen her on his last visit, and he told the soldier that she had run away from her master. I do not know how he knew such things, but it must have been the truth.”

  “Tell me about the blue coat. How is it that Red Cloud let a soldier ride into the village?”

  “Trader brought him. He did not wear a uniform, and they traveled alone. Red Cloud decided to hear what the blue coat had to say. The blue coat brought a treaty, which Red Cloud refused to sign. Then the soldier asked about Little Sparrow and told Red Cloud that it would please the treaty commission if he sent her back to her own people.”

  “Little Sparrow belongs to me, not Red Cloud.” He spoke so harshly, Spotted Doe cringed inwardly.

  “Red Cloud is chief. After much thought he decided it would please the commission and possibly gain a more favorable peace treaty if he sent Little Sparrow back to her people.”

  Refusing to believe Spotted Doe, Wind Rider turned to Woman-Who-Waddles. “Does Spotted Doe speak the truth?”

  The old woman nodded. A nerve clenched in Wind Rider’s jaw, and his expression hardened. “I will speak to Red Cloud myself.”

  Abruptly, he turned and strode away. Woman-Who-Waddles ducked inside her lodge. She felt as if she had lost a second daughter. Spotted Doe quickly caught up with Wind Rider, pulling on his arm to stop him.

  “Wait; there is more. There is something you do not know.”

  Wind Rider’s steps slowed, but he did not stop. “What more is there?”

  “I heard Little Sparrow tell the soldier that she was a captive and wanted to leave. She told him that you beat and abused her. She said she didn’t like being your whore. She begged him to take her away/’

  Wind Rider stopped abruptly. He stared at Spotted Doe through narrowed eyes. “You heard this? Why didn’t Woman-Who-Waddles tell me?”

  “I am the only one who heard. They spoke outside our lodge and didn’t know I was inside. I heard everything. Little Sparrow told him you were cruel, that you forced her to become your whore. She said . ..”

  “Enough! Go now! See to Summer Moon. I will speak to Red Cloud myself.”

  “He knows nothing of what I have just told you,” Spotted Doe warned. “Forget her, Wind Rider. I am all the woman you need.”

  Her hands clung to him, and he shook himself free. She stood and watched, a sly smile curving her lips as he strode toward Red Cloud’s lodge.

  Wind Rider rattled the bones outside the door and waited politely to be invited inside. When the invitation came he ducked beneath the opening and sat cross-legged opposite the great chief.

  “I want to know about my woman,” he said, not waiting for the chief to speak first, as was the custom. “Why have you sent her away?”

  “A soldier from the fort came for her. He said if I let her go, the commission would view it as a gesture of friendship.”

  “He lied!”

  “We shall see,” Red Cloud said cryptically. “Future treaties depend upon the release of all white captives.”

  “Little Sparrow was not a captive; she is my wife. Did she wish to go with the blue coat?”

  Red Cloud shrugged. “It did not matter what she wished.”

  “The blue coat will return with many more of his kind. I saw with my own eyes what they did to the Cheyenne camp. They will do the same to our village.”

  “The soldiers will not find us. Tomorrow we will move our village to another place, a place deeper in the Badlands, where buffalo have bee
n reported. Go home, Wind Rider. You have no need for a white wife when you have Spotted Doe. She will give you strong sons and daughters.”

  “Just tell me one thing, Red Cloud. Did Little Sparrow go willingly with the blue coat?”

  Being a shrewd man, Red Cloud gave the answer he thought would best serve the People and Wind Rider. He didn’t consider it a lie. If Wind Rider thought his wife went willingly, he would not grieve for her, he would turn to Spotted Doe for solace, as it should be. “Little Sparrow seemed most eager to leave. That is all I can tell you.” He picked up his pipe, bringing the conversation to an end. Wind Rider had no recourse but to leave. He walked back to his lodge a bitter man.

  “I am happy to see you have returned safely. Did you count many coup against the enemy?” Coyote crossed paths with Wind Rider and stopped to speak with him.

  “The enemy are more numerous than blades of grass upon the prairie. If we kill one, two more take his place.”

  “Red Cloud is ready to negotiate a peace treaty if the commission presents one that is fair.”

  ”Ha! That will never happen. My greatest fear is that one day all Plains Indians will be driven to reservations.”

  “Perhaps I will join the great chiefs in heaven and walk the spirit path before that day arrives,” Coyote predicted. “Your father was a great warrior, Wind Rider. I mourn with you.”

  The village moved the next day. Wind Rider had little time to think about Hannah. But when they reached their destination and the village settled down to normal activities, his mind searched frantically for the truth about Hannah. Had she really wanted to leave badly enough to lie about her treatment? Never had he treated her cruelly or abused her, not even when he had first taken her captive. He cared for her. He’d made her his wife, not his whore. Why would she say such terrible things? Had she also lied about the man she had run away from? No, that much was true; he had seen the result of her master’s abuse himself. His confusion had turned from pain to incredible anger after Red Cloud had told him that Little Sparrow seemed most eager to leave.