"Tipaakke didn't tell you her name?" Mekollaan whistled, tugging on the pony's mane.
"Not in English." She planted her hands on her hips angrily.
"My father calls her Wooden Head." He whistled again, this time changing pitch.
Katelyn followed him down the deer path shouting. "He gave me a pony with wood for brains!"
"She will listen. But sometimes she has a mind of her own." He pulled on the pony until she turned and started back in the direction they'd come. "Our ponies are trained by voice command. Tipaakke will teach you."
Katelyn stormed past him. "Another joke, Fox? You knew I wouldn't be able to make her stop. Making fun of me has become quite a pastime, hasn't it?" She yanked a bag off the pack pony and went to sit under a tree.
Tipaakke followed her slowly, guided by her movement. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . what is your word? Embarrass . . . I did not mean to embarrass you, Katelyn. It's just that I didn't think." He reached out to touch her.
Katelyn ducked, coming to her feet. "Here." She pushed a piece of venison jerky into his hand and strutted off. "There's water in the skin. Get it yourself!"
Tipaakke let out an exasperated sigh as he handed his brother a piece of his jerky. "She is hard to understand," he said half to himself, in Algonquian. "She is laughing with us one moment, the next she cannot stand my touch."
Mekollaan nodded thoughtfully. "Give her time. It's hard for her. She was raised much differently."
Tipaakke squatted on the ground, chewing the tough jerky, and sipping from the water skin Mekollaan had handed him. He was right. She needed time. And they would have plenty of it once winter settled in.
The rest of the afternoon passed without event. Katelyn kept to herself, riding, sometimes walking, while the brothers wiled away the afternoon talking of their childhood in their own language. Both of them tried bringing Katelyn into the conversation but finally gave up, leaving her to herself. By the time the sun had begun to set, Mekollaan had found a suitable place to spend the night. He would have preferred to go further but Tipaakke had said Katelyn had gone far enough in one day.
"We will camp here tonight, Tipaakke called over his shoulder. He let go of Mekollaan's arm and caught Katelyn's pony, whistling at it. After two tries Wooden Head finally came to a halt.
Katelyn slid off her, glad to be rid of the beast.
Mekollaan unloaded the pack pony and left her to graze. "I'll bring back our meal," he called to no one in particular as he disappeared into the woods.
Katelyn dug through a reed bag until she came up with her flint and steel and a knife with a jagged edge. She'd be here all night if she tried to start a fire the way Fox did it. She gathered small twigs and sat down to clear a spot for the fire. Brushing the dry leaves on the ground into a pile, she lit the fire, blowing until the leaves were ablaze with flickering flames. Adding a few sticks, she set out to find a young sapling that would make a good spit. Spotting one near the creek, she cut it down with her knife. Bringing the sapling back to the fire, she removed a hairless hide from a pack and unrolled it, taking a seat on the smooth leather.
After Tipaakke had removed the animals' bridles and blankets, he came to sit down beside Katelyn.
He listened to her struggle to cut the right seams in the sapling. What was he doing to her? Was he causing her more harm than good? Could she ever become one of them? He yearned to reach out and stroke her cheek, to brush away her frown. Though he couldn't see her, he could picture in his mind the piercing stare of her eyes, the hardened lines of her face. He knew enough to leave her alone for now, giving her time to work her anger out herself. Tipaakke leaned back, tucking his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. For now he would have to be content to have her beside him.
Shortly, Mekollaan returned, a squirrel slung over his shoulder. He dropped it beside Katelyn and went to dig for his own bag among the many on the ground.
"Squirrel?" Katelyn wrinkled her nose distastefully. She didn't like squirrel.
"Looks like it," Mekollaan replied coldly, tired of her childishness.
She let out a sigh. No longer mad at Fox or Hawk, she was angry with herself. What had ever made her think she could be one of them? She couldn't. That was obvious, wasn't it? She would never learn their ways. She stood up, grasping the squirrel by the back legs and going to gather the things she would need to clean it.
Katelyn skinned and gutted the furry animal and soon had it roasting over the fire. She placed leaves on the skin side of the pelt and rolled it to be cured later. "Never waste anything," Won had told her. The pelt, once clean, would make a good pouch for small tools. Tucking it into a bag, she returned to the fire to wait on the meal.
After scorching her fingers several times, Katelyn finally deemed the meat roasted well enough to eat. Tearing a juicy leg from the body, she sat on the hide to eat, leaving the brothers to get their own. When she finished she went to the stream to wash and returned shortly, ready to turn in. Unrolling another mat, she lay down within the shadow of the fire.
"No, Katelyn." Tipaakke loomed over her.
"No, what?" She pulled her cloak over her body.
"This is not something to start." He leaned over, tugging at her cloak. "Get up."
"I'm trying to sleep, Fox. Leave me alone." Her voice quivered. She knew he would win; still, she didn't give up easily.
"I don't care if you are mad at me. At the end of the day we sleep together. Always." He pulled the cloak off.
Katelyn sat up. "Fox . . . " She took a deep breath. Shouting got her nowhere with him. "Please . . . I just want to be alone."
"No. You are my prisoner. I don't want to force you, but you will sleep with me. So, come. I'm tired, too." He turned, walking to the other side of the fire, shuffling his feet slightly.
Katelyn groaned, coming to her feet and yanking the hide mat off the ground. There was no use. No one would get any sleep until she'd done what he said. Coming to stand beside him, she flung the mat on the ground. "Here?"
"Yes." He removed his fox cloak and sat down on the mat. "Lay down." He patted the ground.
Mekollaan stood watching from the shadows. The girl had spirit.
Katelyn dropped onto the mat and lay on her back, her cloak covering her body.
"No." Tipaakke was losing patience.
"What now? I'm here. Now let me sleep." She rolled over on her side, her back to him.
Laying down, he reached out to wrap his arms around her waist, drawing her close to him.
Katelyn struggled. "Don't you understand? I don't want you near me." His hands were warm around her middle.
"But I want you," he returned softly, pulling the fox fur cloak over them. "Just let me hold you." He could feel her body relaxing. "I told you I was sorry about the pony. I don't understand why you're so upset about the pony. No harm came to you."
"I don't know why I am either . . . " She breathed deeply, enveloped by his nearness.
"Look at me."
Slowly Katelyn rolled over to face him, an unwelcome tear sliding down her cheek. "I'm afraid," she whispered.
"I am afraid, too. Can we be afraid together?"
Katelyn drew her arms up around his neck, holding him tight, her face pressed against his neck.
"Shhhh," he hushed, running his hands through her hair, smoothing the loose strands. "All will be right, my love," he murmured in Algonquian. "When two people love each other, it is said the Heavenly Father guides them. Love me, Katelyn, and he will help us."
Katelyn snuggled closer listening to his soothing voice. Though she recognized only her own name, it didn't matter. It was almost better when he spoke his own tongue. Then she could imagine he was telling her that he loved her. Listening to the crackling fire and Fox's steady breathing, she drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms.
Katelyn breathed sharply. "Fox, it's so beautiful!" Her eyes widened with awe as she scanned the horizon. The majestic mountains stretched out before them, mapped by dark greens and fro
sty whites.
Tipaakke squeezed her leg lovingly. "I smell them." He took a deep breath, exhaling puffs of smokey white. "I hear them, but tell me what they look like, Katie girl."
She slipped off the pony, her hand on Tipaakke's shoulders. "I don't know that I can. I'm no good with words."
"Tell me, please."
She sighed, still mesmerized by the breathtaking vista. "Well, the mountains are like great lumps of mud Ameen and his friends pile on the creek bank, only these are green and brown with white tops. They are many sizes. Some are just hills, but others are very steep. They're so beautiful. The cliffs of Dover are beautiful but these mountains are beautiful in a different way."
Tipaakke snaked his arm around her waist, pressing his body to hers. The crisp mountain air made his blood race. "It has been a long time since I made the journey here. It was one of my favorite places as a boy. My grandfather brought me here many times. He and a white man built the cabin together."
"Are you two going to stand there all winter or are you coming?" Mekollaan leaned against the pack pony a hundred yards away. "We'll reach the mountains by the time the sun is high if you will start walking."
"Have you no respect for the beauty Manito has created?"
"The mountains' or hers?" He moved his head in Katelyn's direction and turned to start off.
Tipaakke started forward, too, his arm still around Katelyn. "Walk with me. The pony will follow."
She walked beside him, overcome by the magnificence of the land and the love she felt for Fox. If time would suddenly come to a standstill, this is how she would want to end her life. She would want to be at the foot of these mountains, walking with Fox. For a single moment there were no conflicts, no pain, no decisions to make, only the two of them together beneath God's hand.
"Look at you two." Mekollaan shook his head. "Like a young buck and his first doe."
"You are jealous, my low flying hawk. It has been too long since you have felt the stirrings of love," Tipaakke returned in his own tongue.
Katelyn grasped his hand, swinging it playfully. "You know I hate it when you speak your language. I can't understand a word you say."
"No, you can't . . . " Mekollaan turned to smile, raising an eyebrow.
Katelyn stuck her tongue out at him, refusing to let him dampen her spirits. What did she care if he liked her or not? She certainly didn't like him.
"Then you must learn to speak our language." Tipaakke brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead.
"You would teach me?" She released his hand, walking backwards in front of him.
"I will teach you." He smiled, pleased to hear gaiety in her voice. He liked the sound of her moccasins dancing on the hardened ground.
"When can we start?"
"Better to start now, Tipaakke, as slow as the whites are said to learn."
"That's not so. Won says I'm smart. I already know a couple of words." She placed her hands on her hips indignantly.
"Oh. What are they?" Mekollaan pulled a long pipe from his cloak.
"I know hukuiim apoon," she stumbled, "and, and . . . " she rattled her brain trying to come up with another word. " . . . and tuulke!" Her face colored in embarrassment realizing what she'd said. Why couldn't she have come up with a better word than breasts?
Mekollaan laughed heartily, finding a bit of flint and steel. "Good start." He chuckled, shaking his head.
Tipaakke smiled good-naturedly. "Come, my fox-haired beauty." He reached out with one bronzed hand. "Lead a helpless blind man through the valley."
"Maybe blind, but never helpless," Katelyn sang, reaching out to clasp his hand.
The rest of the morning was spent on Katelyn's Lenni Lenape lessons. Making a game of it, all three enjoyed passing the time while they grew closer to the mountains ahead. Katelyn pointed out objects, and one of the brothers told her the Algonquian word. She learned quickly, much to everyone's surprise.
"I'll be speaking Lenni Lenape in no time," Katelyn said, tasting the proper pronunciation.
Mekollaan whistled to stop the ponies. "You will have to walk now, Kate-lyn. The land is growing steeper."
She dismounted, surveying the surroundings. "How long now?" The mountains seemed so steep.
"We must go over this ridge and then the next. If you keep up, we will make the cabin just after dark." Mekollaan passed the water skin to Tipaakke.
"She will keep up," he answered, taking a long pull on the skin.
When the ponies moved again, Katelyn fell in behind the men, thankful for the walking stick Hawk had cut for her. She would make it to the cabin if it killed her.
But Katelyn soon found that the terrain was more difficult to cross than she'd anticipated. Each step was an effort as they climbed higher, the air growing noticeably cooler. Her legs ached fiercely as the hours passed and the sun began to set, but she trudged on, making no complaint. Thankfully, the ache soon dulled to a numbness, giving her some relief.
"Well be there soon, girl," Tipaakke murmured in her ear, supporting her sagging body.
She nodded, too exhausted to reply.
The downside of the ridge gave her a chance to rest, enabling her to start up the next steep incline.
"You're doing well. I'm proud of you. He has not slowed his pace for you," Katelyn heard Tipaakke whisper, just before she felt herself slumping to the ground. A peaceful darkness overtook her.
When Katelyn came to, she could feel motion beneath her. Her face was buried in soft fur. She raised her head slowly, clinging to the spotted pony.
"You all right?" Tipaakke ran his palm across her cheek.
"I'm sorry." She bit her bottom lip, willing her legs to move. She attempted lamely to dismount.
"Stay there." He pushed her back up. "The pony can carry you the rest of the way. The cabin isn't far." He held onto her leg, his fingers caressing her thigh through leather.
Katelyn stared into the darkened sky. "The sun's gone down."
Tipaakke laughed, the rumble tickling her ears. "You've been asleep a while, my dove. Tell me, are the stars bright tonight?"
"Mmmm, so bright, like dots of white sugar on a molasses cookie."
"You must be hungry," he replied, amused.
"And cold, too." She pulled the cloak over her shoulders tighter, noticing it was rust in color. Fox now wore her cloak of rabbit skins.
"Tonight the dew will freeze." He slid his hand under her dress, letting it rest high on her bare thigh.
Katelyn nodded, falling silent. His hand sent shivers of warmth through her chilled body.
The pony trudged on, starting up a new incline, this time following a narrow path.
"We are following a trail used by the aatu for many years."
"Deer?"
"Yes, good. The cabin is through the next thicket. We are coming from behind."
"How do you know?"
Tipaakke's voice grew faint with thought. "My moccasins have traveled this path many times with my grandfather."
"You loved him very much?"
"Very much. He was good to me. He taught me many things."
"I had a grandfather who lived with us when I was very small. My father said he was senile. He lived in the room above mine. When I could sneak away from my chores, I would creep up the back stairs and slip into his room. He used to hold me on his knee and rock me. He told me many stories."
"It is good that you have memories of him. As long as we have memories, those we love are still alive in our hearts.
"Fox . . . " Katelyn's throat tightened. She had to ask. "Do you still have memories of your wife?"
"So many memories." Tipaakke turned to her, his hand sliding from beneath her dress to touch hers. "Her voice was like a bell, clear and sharp. When she laughed, everyone around her laughed, too." He squeezed Katelyn's hand tightly. "But she is gone. We had a good life together. We lived as man and wife many summers. A man cannot ask for more."
She turned away, tears brimming. She didn't know if she cried for Fox
and his loss or for herself. He could never love her, not when he had been married to such a perfect woman.
"You know, girl," Tipaakke murmured tenderly. "I do not ask you to replace her. I wouldn't ask that of anyone. That part of my life is over. Maybe we can make a new life." Giving her hand another squeeze, he quickened his pace, catching up with Mekollaan.
Katelyn rode in silence, her head bobbing sleepily. Did he mean what he said about a life together? What kind of life did he mean? He hadn't said he loved her. He hadn't asked her to marry him. Is that what she needed to be happy? Maybe there were degrees of happiness. Maybe she was expecting too much. Could she learn to live without love? Would she miss what she had never had? If she stayed with Fox, she would always have food and a roof over her head. With a friend like Won and those nights in the wigwam with Fox, maybe she could be content.
Within a short period of time, the ponies halted and Tipaakke came to Katelyn. "We are here, dove," he whispered, shaking her gently.
Far in the distance she could hear Fox's voice.
"Wake up, Katie girl. You must walk to the cabin. I can't carry you."
But Katelyn only snuggled deeper into the fox cloak. She was dreaming. Far in the distance she could see Fox running. They were in a meadow. He was coming for her! His raven hair blew in the breeze as he neared her, his muscles giving and taking with each stride. He reached her, picking her up and swinging her in his arms . . .
"Katelyn, please." Tipaakke shook his head. He was getting nowhere with her and he was tired, too. He could hear Mekollaan unloading the bags onto the ground.
"Having trouble, brother?" Mekollaan smiled good- naturedly.
"She's off in the dream world. I can't wake her." He stroked the soft hair at her temple.
"Well, I'm certainly not going to carry her. Once was enough for me." Mekollaan turned the pack pony around and headed toward the lean-to they used for a barn. "I'll be back for Uiil Tahuun in a moment. The door is seven, maybe eight steps from her head."
Tipaakke listened to his brother's footsteps on the hardening ground. "Katelyn." He tried once more. "You must get up." Realizing his attempts were futile, he walked in the direction of the door, his steps slow and measured. Finding the door he pushed it open and made his way back to her. He reached up, sliding her into his arms and lifting her off the pony. "Shhhh," he murmured, burying his face in her sweet smelling hair.
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