He was proud to be able to say, "Jacie is going to be one of us, Martha."
Martha cried a little more but got hold of herself before going inside to help Jacie prepare to be introduced to the mother she had no idea she was about to meet.
Jacie was impressed by how friendly everyone was, and she was also fascinated by the construction of the cabin. The walls were made of roughly hewn logs, with dovetailed corners. The large chinks were daubed with mud. The chimney was put together from mud-plastered sticks, and the roof was made of clapboard and anchored by weighted poles. Hard-packed mud provided the floor. There were two separate rooms connected by a roofed, open corridor like a breezeway, which Martha explained was called a dogtrot.
The wide porch in front provided storage space for harnesses, tools, kegs, and saddles, and there was a lean-to shelter on one side. The kitchen was connected by another porch running along the opposite side.
ft happened that Jacie and Myra were the same size, and Myra obligingly loaned her a dress of soft peach muslin. It took Luke's breath away when he saw her all fresh and scrubbed. Her hair, like black silk, hung soft and loose about her glowing face, and he could hardly tear his eyes from her.
Martha and Silas exchanged knowing looks. They could tell Luke was deeply smitten with her.
During a dinner of fried prairie hen, stewed turnips, boiled corn, and hoecakes, Luke shared his plans for taking the tribe to Mexico in the spring. Afterwards, he and Silas went out to the porch to enjoy cigars and some mulled cider, while the women cleaned up.
Martha chattered away about how civilized Luke was, and how it was hard sometimes, especially when he dressed like an army scout, to remember he was a Comanche. But she very carefully avoided talking about his stepmother, and winced when Jacie brought up the subject by saying, "I hope his people will accept me. Especially his mother. You mentioned her when we first got here. Do you know her well?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I do." Martha said as she vigorously scrubbed a pot that was already clean. "An extraordinary woman. She knows a lot about medicine. They rode by here one fall when my youngest, Billy, was sick with the croup. She knew just what to do. She had some pokeberry leaves in her pouch and boiled them for tea, and she made a poultice out of camphor berries. Smart, she is, all right.
"Well, now." She gave an exaggerated sigh and hung up the dish towel. "Let's go join the men, shall we?" And she hurried from the kitchen, anxious to avoid more questions.
Jacie stared after her. Was it her imagination or had the mention of Luke's mother upset her? Maybe Martha knew Sunstar wasn't going to like him bringing a woman home. Maybe she even had a wife picked out for him.
Folding her dish towel, Jacie decided there was no need to worry about it now. She would just try every way she knew how to make Sunstar like her once they met.
Joining the others on the porch, she watched Luke in the lantern's glow. He was engrossed in what Silas was telling him, his face an angry mask as he learned that a northern band of Comanche had been attacked while on their way home from a friendly council with government officials.
"They were camped near a Wichita village situated near Rush Springs," Silas recounted. "The Second Cavalry under Captain Earl Van Dorn, along with over a hundred Indians from the Brazos Reservation—Shawnees, Delaware, Wichita—hit without warning. Over fifty Comanche were killed, three hundred horses taken. The survivors scattered."
"Damn him." Luke got up and began to pace angrily about on the porch.
Martha also stood. She did not like such upsetting conversations and had already sent the children to bed. Now she moved to go inside, motioning for Jacie to go with her, but Jacie pretended not to notice, wanting to hear everything. If she were going to be living as an Indian, she felt she should know as much as possible about what was happening to them.
"Van Dorn should have known about the band's recent council with the government," Luke raged on. "Things like this only enforce my people's belief that white men can't be trusted."
Silas drew deeply on his cigar. "Well, he was wounded. So was Ross, the one leadin' the Indians from the Brazos. Two of the survivors came by here in the night. Martha, she treated their wounds best she could and fed 'em. They said things were getting real bad, that the Comanche will raid or starve now. I tried to tell 'em that's only going to make the citizens of Texas even more hostile. But they won't listen. There's just too much going on, especially on the reservations. And if it weren't for the army, mobs of white men would be attackin' them. There's talk now of movin' them up to Indian Territory or to the Wichita Reservation near Fort Cobb."
Luke slammed a fist into his open palm. "It won't happen to my people. Come spring, we move south. We will not go to a reservation."
Martha cleared her throat, a signal to let Silas know she did not like the tension and wanted the evening to end. He obliged by saying good night to their guests and followed her.
Martha was no fool and had all ideas Luke and Jacie had been sleeping together like man and wife out on the trail, but she maintained a Christian home and had no intention of allowing them to carry on under her roof. But in all fairness, she knew neither of them expected it and gently called to Jacie, "Come along now, dear. You can bed down with the girls in their room across the dogtrot."
Jacie responded politely, "Yes ma'am. I'll be right there."
Martha gave them a moment alone, and Jacie went to Luke to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you should think of going to Mexico right away. If things are getting worse, it might not be safe to wait."
"We have to," he said, irritable, but not with her. It was the situation that made him bristle. "We have to dig in for winter. I'm going to bed now. When the others are asleep, come to me. I'll be in the barn, You can slip back inside before it's light."
He bolted down the steps to disappear around the corner, with Jacie staring after him. She had no intention of sneaking out. What if the girls awoke and found her gone? And what if Martha or Silas heard her leave? Jacie would take no chances on making them think ill of her.
Besides, she thought with a determined lift of her chin, it was time Luke found out that she was not going to be at his beck and call when it did not suit her.
Chapter 24
Martha was beside herself as she made breakfast, frying thick slices of ham and baking huge, fluffy, lard biscuits. She was trying not to think about what a joyous day it was going to be for Jacie, because she did not want to appear nervous. But she had never seen Luke so somber, and she was not about to ask him what was wrong. She and Silas had talked long into the night about how hard it might be for him, because no matter what he thought, Jacie might not want to stay. They had not been around her long enough to decide whether she was really in love with him and had the makings of an Indian wife. But, Martha thought as she broke eggs into the skillet and began to scramble them, it was his life, and she and Silas weren't about to interfere.
After breakfast, they all gathered in front of the cabin to say good-bye. "Remember the smoke signals I taught you how to send should you have any trouble," Luke told Silas. "I will bring the warriors and get here as fast as I can."
Silas clasped his hand. "I know you would, but we've been here long enough now for every Indian around to know we only want peace and that they can always find food and shelter here. You just look after yourself, and your woman." He grinned at Jacie.
Martha hugged Luke and whispered in his ear, "I hope everything turns out the way you want it to."
He did not respond and stepped quickly from her embrace.
* * *
They forded the river and rode doggedly north. When Luke made no attempt at conversation, Jacie assumed he was angry because she had not gone to his bed the night before, and she decided to ignore him.
She had no way of knowing he was so deep in thought over the poignant reunion ahead that he was unconcerned with anything else.
She rode on the pony so they could travel faster. Luke wanted to reach cam
p by nightfall. Martha had packed a bag with ham biscuits from breakfast and cold prairie chicken from dinner the night before. They ate as they rode, stopping only to water the horses and tend to their own needs.
The sun began to set, bathing them in shadows of sherry and gold. Luke had spoken only to point out precarious spots along the trail. Annoyed, Jacie was starting to wonder if this was how he would behave when she didn't obey his command. Finally, weariness making her cranky, she could hold back no longer and demanded, "Would you mind telling me how long you intend to pout because I didn't go to you last night?"
"I'm not pouting," he said tonelessly.
"Then if you aren't mad, why have you ignored me all day? Is something wrong?" Suddenly she started to worry that maybe he was actually beginning to feel he had made a mistake. After all, it was going to take a lot of patience and understanding between the two of them, as well as from all of his people, for her to adjust to such a totally foreign way of life. Or maybe that was not it at all. Maybe an Indian girl was waiting to marry him, and he was wondering how she would react.
He cast a sideways glance at her and saw how her brow was furrowed with anxiety. "I just have a lot on my mind, Jacie. It has nothing to do with you," he lied, wanting to put her at ease. "But I was disappointed you didn't come last night," he added.
"I was afraid someone would hear me sneaking out."
"Someone might hear you tonight, but don't let that stop you. I miss having you sleep in my arms." His smile was warm.
She was not sure she could do it, was not sure of anything right then.
Luke could see she was still tense. "Many things are going to be different, Jacie. We both know that. Your new life isn't going to be easy, I'm afraid. But don't worry. I'll help you every step of the way. I don't intend to ever let you go."
Her eyes began to shine to think of all the tomorrows they would share, and the uneasiness left her face as she said, "Luke, I can look back now and see my old life wasn't easy, because I was trying to make myself believe in a love that was not meant to be. I've found my true love, and I don't intend to ever lose you."
His breath caught in his throat to see the love mirrored on her beautiful face. "Come here," he said huskily, reaching to take her reins and pull her pony close beside his stallion.
Their lips met and held in a searing kiss of silent avowal of love, and she clung to him and felt the familiar shudder of desire. Forcing herself to pull back, she warned him in a shaky voice, "If we don't stop this, we won't reach your camp till morning."
"You just come to me when you can." He kissed her once more and somehow knew she meant what she said, that she would never leave him.
Digging his heels into his horse's flanks, Luke set him into a full gallop.
It was time to end one journey... and begin another.
* * *
Iris stood at the cooking bag, which she had made by tying the ends of the stomach lining of a buffalo to four poles. It was new, freshly made, and would last three to four days before it became soggy and soft from the heat. Then it too would be eaten. Meanwhile, she was cooking stew and had started the water to boiling by dropping in hot fist-size stones. Then she added meat and prairie turnips.
She was not hungry herself but was helping cook for the other women, who were busy working with the game the hunters had brought in the day before.
There were deer to be skinned and cut for drying, and buffalo, the hides to be treated for tanning to make clothing and blankets. It was a busy season, and they had to work fast, because the men had set out again and would be returning in another day, bringing more trophies to be readied for the cold months of winter ahead.
Iris was about to sample the stew when she heard Gold Elk, who'd been left to guard the camp, calling out to her as he ran from his lookout post. "He is back, Sunstar. He is back."
She set aside the wooden tasting spoon and wiped her hands. Now she could rest easy. Always when Luke was away, she worried, but now he would be home for the winter. But seeing the look on Gold Elk's face as he reached her, Iris was not altogether sure she should relax just yet. "What's wrong?" she asked anxiously. "Is he hurt?"
She started by him, intending to climb to the rocky perch overlooking the trail to watch Luke's approach, but Gold Elk held her back. "He is not hurt."
She laughed, relieved. "Then why do you look so upset? You should be happy. Like me." She started by him again, but he continued to hold her. She was getting annoyed. "What is wrong with you? Let me go."
"I should prepare you. I should tell you he is not alone."
"He has men with him? Some of the renegades have asked to come back into our fold?" She could think of no one else.
Gold Elk hated to tell her, for he was afraid of what it might mean for Luke to return with the woman, sure she was the one from the fort. Like the others, Gold Elk felt deeply for Sunstar and would be sad if she went away. "It is a woman."
Iris began to smile. She was not surprised. It was time for Luke to take a wife. And she was sure she would love her as he did. "Can you tell what band she is from? She is Comanche, isn't she?"
Some of the women had gathered to hear what Gold Elk was saying, and they gasped as one when he announced, "No. She is white."
Iris struggled with her own reaction. Dear God, surely Luke had not taken a woman captive. He would never do such a thing, not since his education at the mission school. She could not imagine his doing something so barbaric as to abduct anyone, man or woman.
Several of the younger woman, unmarried and daring to dream they might be chosen for the wife of their leader, began to wail. "Take them away until they can calm themselves," Iris said, snapping her fingers. She had enough to cope with without having to listen to them.
Gold Elk pointed. "Here they come."
Jacie now rode behind Luke on his stallion, clinging to him, arms about his waist. Peering timidly over his shoulder, she saw the women staring curiously, noting that while their hair was hacked off raggedly, their faces were meticulously painted, with red lines above and below their eyelids, some of them crossed at the corners. Their ears were painted red inside, and both cheeks had been daubed with a solid circle of orange and red. They wore drab, plain dresses of buckskin, and ankle-high moccasins.
But one of them, Jacie noted curiously, stood out and apart from the rest. She was wearing a beaded and fringed blouse of buckskin, a skirt with an uneven hemline that fell to her ankles, and low-cut moccasins. Unlike the others, her eyes were lined in yellow, and the painting on her cheeks was in the shape of a triangle. She heard the woman call out to Luke hesitantly and asked, "Is that your mother?"
"Yes." Luke dismounted, leaving Jacie where she was. "Stay here." He started toward Sunstar.
Iris could see the girl was indeed white, and also that she appeared to be quite pretty, her dark black hair framing a heart-shaped face, but she was too far away to tell anything else about her.
"Oh, my son, don't tell me you have taken a captive," Iris said worriedly when he embraced her. She steeled herself for his admission that he had when he did not step back but kept his hands firmly upon her shoulders.
"She came of her own free will, Mother."
A sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she chided herself for ever doubting him. Then the myriad of questions bubbled forth: "Where did you meet her? How did you meet her? And what is her name?"
Luke glanced over his shoulder long enough to make sure Jacie was obeying him and staying put. Then he took Iris's arm and steered her far enough away from the others that they could not be overheard. He could see Gold Elk anxiously looking on and knew he had figured out who Jacie was.
Iris was feeling apprehensive again, "What's wrong? Why aren't you introducing me to her? I want to meet her—"
"And you will." Luke cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his steady gaze. "But first I want to tell you her name."
His demeanor was making her uneasy. "Go on," she said.
"Her name is—"
He drew a ragged breath and held it for a second, then said, "Jacie."
He tensed for her reaction, but she merely stared at him. The name did not register. It had been a long time, and there was no reason to make any connection—yet.
"That's a lovely name. And she's a lovely girl, as best I can tell from here. Take me to meet her. I'm happy for you, Luke. I really am, though I'm afraid there are a few who don't feel the same." She nodded toward the sound of young girls weeping over crumbled dreams.
Luke could feel Jacie's eyes boring into his back and knew she must be wondering what was going on, why he was taking so long, how his mother was reacting to the news. "Her name is Jacie," Luke repeated, more firmly this time, firing the words like bullets, wanting to get it all said as quickly as possible, "She came here from the east to look for her mother, who was taken by Indians more than eighteen years ago. Her father and her brothers were killed. Only she and her aunt, her mother's sister, survived. Her aunt raised her as her own child. Her aunt's name was Violet; she died not long ago...."
But Iris was listening no longer. His hands fell away from her, and she stepped back as if in a trance.
Jacie... Violet... The names fought to rise above the great roaring within, as she walked toward where the girl sat on the stallion, staring with apprehension.
And in that crystallized moment, everything around Iris faded like the mist at sunrise, and in its place, the past came rushing back, bold and bright—her precious baby, given to her sister to nurse. They had walked away from the wagons to disappear among the rocks and waist-high saw grass. She could see it all so clearly once more. And then came the screams... the awful screams... the gunfire, the hacking of tomahawks and knives and the shrieks of the dying amidst the fire and smoke. A nightmare of long ago, only now it was back but different than before, because all was not lost. And with a great halo of realization bursting all around her, Iris Banner knew that her world had not ended at that scene of carnage all those years ago, because she had only to look into the young girl's eyes to know that she was actually looking inside her very own soul.
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