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Wolf Dreamer

Page 8

by Madeline Baker


  Thinking back, she realized there had been times when she had felt she wasn’t alone, when she’d looked up from weeding the garden or doing the laundry, fully expecting to find someone standing behind her. Had she known, on some unconscious level, that he had been there?

  Thoughts of him, of all they had shared in the past weeks, filled her mind while she rode, when she stopped to eat and rest her horse. She was so preoccupied with reliving the time she had spent with Wolf Dreamer that she was somewhat surprised to look up and see the settlement Summer Moon Rising had promised laid out before her.

  She glanced down at her Lakota tunic and moccasins. She wished she had her own clothes to wear, but there was no help for it. Smoothing a hand over her hair, she urged her horse into a trot.

  The settlement had a transient air about it, as if it might be blown away by the first winter winds. There was a combination general store and saloon, a hotel, a small restaurant, a stable and a stagecoach depot. She was relieved to see a telegraph office, though she had no money to send a wire. Perhaps they would send her message on credit.

  Men turned to stare at her as she rode down the dusty street. Most were only curious; a few looked at her in ways that made her blush. It took her a minute to realize there were no other women to be seen.

  She stopped in front of the restaurant. Dismounting, she tied her horse to the hitch rack, smoothed a hand over her tunic, and entered the building. She felt a rush of relief when she saw a woman wiping off a table.

  “Hi, honey,” the woman said, looking up. “What can I get for ya?”

  “I … I need a job.”

  “Some man run out on ya?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I …”

  “That’s all right, honey, no need to explain. I reckon I could use some help in the evenings. I suppose you need a place to stay, too?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “Well, there’s a cot in the storage room out back. You can stay there, if you like.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Here,” the woman said, pulling out a chair. “Sit down and I’ll see what I can find for you to eat in the kitchen.”

  “I can’t pay …”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m Minerva Shellcroft, but everyone calls me Shelly.”

  “Rebecca Hathaway.”

  “Welcome to River Bend.”

  Rebecca waited tables that night, something she had never done before. Shelly had lent her a dress to wear and assured her that although the men might flirt and make outrageous propositions, most of them were harmless.

  Rebecca ignored their ribald remarks as best she could. They were a rowdy lot, rough of dress and speech and though they did flirt shamelessly, they treated her with respect when she politely declined their suggestions.

  Later, lying on the cot in the storage room, she let the tears fall. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to go home.

  She wanted Wolf Dreamer, even if it meant being an outsider for the rest of her life.

  Chapter 13

  “Not here?” Wolf Dreamer exclaimed. “What do you mean, she is not here?”

  Summer Moon Rising shrugged innocently. “I saw her leave the village soon after you did. She never returned.”

  “Why did you not stop her?”

  She made no reply, only looked at him through wide, dark eyes.

  Wolf Dreamer paced the floor of his lodge. Where would she go? Had she gone back to the homestead? Surely she knew it was too dangerous for her to go back there. She had said she wanted to go home, back east …

  He turned to Summer Moon Rising. “Where did she go?”

  “How should I …”

  “Do not lie to me, woman! What have you done with her?”

  “I did nothing! Only what she wished.”

  “Where is she?” His voice was low and filled with menace.

  “I took her down the mountain,” Summer Moon Rising replied defiantly. “She is gone, and you will never see her again!” She cringed as he raised his hand, frightened by the anger in his eyes.

  Wolf Dreamer took a deep breath and slowly lowered his arm. “Where was she going?”

  “I told her to go south. I could have killed her, but I did not.” She took a step forward, one hand outstretched. “We can be together now.”

  “Get out.”

  She stared at him in disbelief, then ran out of the lodge.

  He threw some pemmican and a change of clothes into his saddlebags, then hurried outside to saddle a horse, determined to find her before it was too late, before she boarded a stagecoach and rode out of his life forever.

  The settlement rose up from the floor of the prairie, a handful of weathered buildings that crouched like animals sleeping in the sun.

  Wolf Dreamer reined his horse to a halt a good distance from the town. He could not ride in and look for Rebecca, not now. He would wait until dark. She would not be hard to find.

  Staring down the road, he saw a faint plume of dust that signaled a rider coming his way. Not wanting to be seen, he reined his horse into the cover of the trees.

  “Rebecca.” He whispered her name as he recognized the woman riding toward him. Never had he seen anything more welcome, or anyone more beautiful.

  A wave of longing swept through him as he urged his horse onto the trail.

  Rebecca drew up, startled, when a man rode out of the trees. For a moment, she simply stared at him, not believing her eyes.

  “Wolf Dreamer!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same of you.”

  “I asked you first.”

  “I was coming after you,” he replied. “Why else would I be here?”

  “And I was coming back to you,” she confessed, feeling suddenly shy.

  Wolf Dreamer glanced down the road, all too aware of the nearness of the wasichu settlement ahead.

  “Come,” he said, and led the way into the trees, out of the sight of the town and anyone who might happen by.

  Rebecca followed him, her heart beating wildly. He had come for her.

  When he found a place he considered safe, Wolf Dreamer dismounted, then lifted Rebecca from the back of her horse.

  “Were you coming to take me back?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  He shook his head. “I could not face my life without you. If you will not live in my world, then I will live in yours.”

  She stared at him, unable to believe her ears. “You were going to go back east with me?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh, Wolf Dreamer, I love you so much!”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “No. I was just being foolish and afraid. I was on my way back to you.”

  “Were you?” he asked, disbelief strong in his voice. “I thought you wanted nothing more than to go back east to be with your people.”

  She didn’t miss the heavy emphasis on the words your people.

  “You are my people,” she said. “There’s nothing for me back there. Everything I want is right here.”

  He opened his arms and she moved into his embrace, feeling truly at home for the first time in her life.

  Epilogue

  Rebecca sat outside her lodge cradling her infant son in her arms. How handsome he was, her little warrior, with his dusky skin and thick black hair. For the first few days after his birth, she had been afraid to let him out of her sight, out of her arms, for fear she would lose him, but he was a strong healthy child.

  Looking at him made her heart swell with love for him and for his father. She had married Wolf Dreamer the day after they returned to his people. Summer Moon Rising had left the village the following day.

  Rebecca had come to love living in a hide lodge. The Lakota lodge was a sacred place. The floor of the tipi represented Mother Earth, the sides, rising upward, symbolized the heavens. The tipi’s round shape was a reminder that life was a circle with no beginning and no end. Sweet sage or sweet grass bu
rned on the small altar behind the firepit. The lodge was sturdy enough to withstand winter winds and storms, yet light enough that she could put it up or take it down in minutes.

  White Deer Woman had become Rebecca’s good friend. She had helped Rebecca learn the Lakota language and customs, introduced her to her friends, made her feel welcome. She had been at Rebecca’s side when she labored to bring her son into the world.

  White Deer Woman had made an object that Rebecca had found rather curious. It was a beaded turtle amulet decorated with feathers and horsehair. White Deer Woman had explained that the Lakota revered the turtle because it lived long and was difficult to kill. Thus it was that the Lakota sought the protective power of the turtle for their children. When her son had been born, the umbilical cord had been cut, packed in herbs, and placed inside the turtle.

  In the four months since then, Rebecca had found her place within the tribe. Her marriage to Wolf Dreamer had brought her a measure of acceptance. He was their shaman, the spiritual leader and healer of the People. He had told them the white woman was his destiny and none dared deny it.

  She was in awe of her husband’s powers. She had seen him do miraculous things. Truly, he had been blessed by the Great Spirit.

  Looking up, she saw Wolf Dreamer walking toward her. As always, the sight of him filled her with a rush of love.

  He smiled as he stopped in front of her, his golden brown eyes filled with love as he looked at her and then their son. “How is the little one?”

  “He is well.” Rebecca glanced at the large cloth-covered bundle in his arms. “What have you there?”

  He removed the cloth and she saw that it was a cradleboard. The outside was covered with white doeskin and beaded in colors of blue, yellow, red, white and black in a geometric design. The inside was stuffed with cattail fluff.

  “Oh, Wolf,” she murmured, “it’s lovely. Wherever did you get it?”

  “White Deer Woman made it,” he replied. “For our little one. He will rest comfortably inside.”

  Rebecca nodded. Lakota babies spent much of their first year inside a cradleboard. Mothers sometimes hung the boards from a tree branch, where leaves shaded them and summer breezes gently rocked them, lulling babies to sleep.

  Her heart filled with love for Wolf Dreamer as she placed their son inside the cradleboard. Rising, she slipped her arm around her husband’s waist, marveling at the twist of fate that had brought her to this man, this place.

  He smiled down at her as he drew her into his embrace. “So, wastelakapi,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye. “Do you believe in dreams now?”

  “Oh, yes,” she murmured. “And you’ve made them all come true.”

  * * * * *

  About Madeline Baker

  Madeline Baker started writing simply for the fun of it. Now she is the award-winning author of more than thirty historical romances and one of the most popular writers of Native American romance. She lives in California, where she was born and raised.

  Table of Contents

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  About Madeline Baker

 

 

 


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