She snapped her reins and rode harder, in a fast gallop, hoping to get home before the heavens opened up in a torrent of rain.
Strong Wolf went to a grove of silver birches just outside of his village, where he could be alone with his thoughts. As lightning zigzagged across the darkening heavens in lurid, vivid flashes, he talked to the tree spirits, the wild thunder echoing Strong Wolf’s heartbeat as he sat there so filled with tumultuous emotions.
It was awhile before the rain set in, enough time, he hoped, for Hannah to get safely home.
Then when the rain began to fall, he lifted his eyes to the heavens and let himself be cleansed of hatred against the white men who had gone against him and his people.
Chapter 28
I will share with thee my sorrows,
And thou thy joys with me.
—CHARLES JEFFERYS
Chilled to the bone from the rain, Hannah returned home. Soaking wet, she stood on the porch and stared up at the play of lightning in the sky. Listening to the thunder, she didn’t hear Chuck come to the door, telling her to come in out of the rain.
She was filled with many emotions. She had never truly known just how deeply resentments lay against the red man, until now. It was heartbreaking to witness, especially when that red man was the man she loved with her very soul!
“Hannah!” Chuck said, grabbing her arm. “Come inside! Do you want to get a death of cold?”
Hannah came suddenly out of her reverie. She looked quickly over at Chuck.
He held her close, then went with her back inside the house. “Tell me what happened,” he said as he shut the door behind them.
“He is free,” Hannah said, slipping her boots off. “But Lord, although free, think of the scars left inside him over this horrible mistake!”
“He’s strong,” Chuck reassured. “He will come out of this, unscathed. You will see, Hannah. He’s a fighter. He will never let anything take away his courage, his fight, his pride.”
Then he reached out and touched her hair, then her clothes. “Sis, you’ve got to get out of those wet clothes,” he said.
She nodded and fled to her bedroom.
As she stripped herself nude, she couldn’t get Strong Wolf off her mind. He seemed so quick to send her away today, she thought to herself.
She could not help but wonder if his one night of confinement might have given him time to think over this notion of marrying a white woman.
Had he only pretended to be happy to see her, when deep down inside he resented her along with the rest of the white community?
She bit her lower lip, the thought of possibly losing him almost too much to bear.
Chapter 29
I want you when in dreams I still remember,
The ling’ring of your kiss.
—ARTHUR GILLOM
Because of the dangers that always threatened travelers these days, Strong Wolf had decided that he didn’t want Hannah to ride alone anymore. He was on his way to her house now, to escort her back to the village.
When a loud whistle reverberated through the air, Strong Wolf drew a tight rein and wheeled his horse to a quick stop. He gazed in the direction of the Kansas River, then he heard the whistle again.
The whistle continued this time, shrieking over and over again. It sounded as though the riverboat might be in some sort of trouble.
Then Strong Wolf remembered what Colonel Deshong had said about the riverboats not getting through because of cholera. Did the boat’s presence in the river today mean that the fear of the disease was now over?
He thought about Patrick and the men under his command at Fort Leavenworth. It was best for them that the boats were getting through again with supplies. Strong Wolf would never again send his men out on the hunt for them. He had been humiliated for the last time by white men.
He had decided that except for his love for Hannah and his association with her family, there would be few alliances with white people. When Claude Odum had died, Strong Wolf realized that the Potawatomis would be blamed for what, in fact, white men did to themselves.
It was going to be a new world for the Potawatomis.
There was going to be one more exception. He would allow one more white person in his village besides Hannah. Word had been received that a white teacher would be arriving soon, to set up a schoolhouse in his village for the children; they would be taught the same subjects as white children.
He had requested this teacher long ago, and had only recently received a positive response.
“Perhaps she is on the boat arriving today,” he whispered to himself. He was glad that the teacher was going to be a woman. It would be easier for the teacher to gain the trust of the Potawatomis children, whose trust in white men had waned since the recent experiences with them.
From the children’s experience with Hannah, they had learned that white women could be trusted.
Also Strong Wolf had felt that having a white woman teacher living at his village would give Hannah someone of her own kind to befriend once she came to him as his wife. Although he wished for Hannah to learn all things Potawatomis, he knew the importance of her having someone of her own culture to talk with.
“In time, things will come together for me and my woman,” Strong Wolf whispered to himself.
The constant, troubling whistle wafting from the river made Strong Wolf change the direction of his travel. He rode in that direction.
But when he heard the thundering of hoofbeats coming up from behind him, he turned and looked in wonder at Proud Heart as he rode toward him with several warriors.
Proud Heart reined in at Strong Wolf’s side. “The constant whistling,” he said, looking in the direction of the river. “It is frightening our people. What do you think is the cause?”
“Whatever it is, I do not see how it could mean anything good,” Strong Wolf said, frowning over at Proud Heart. He reached a hand and placed it on his friend’s shoulder. “It is good to see you care so much for my people. It will be hard to say farewell when you take over the leadership of the Chippewa in place of your chieftain father. I will miss your friendship, Proud Heart. But I will understand your absence. You and I will be following the calling of our people. I will be a Potawatomis chief. You will be Chippewa chief. It will be from the heart that we both lead our people.”
“Yes, and Father has spoken recently of giving up the title of chief. I will be saying a farewell to you and your people before I wish to,” Proud Heart said, then tensed and looked toward the river when the whistle started its loud blasts again.
“Let us go now to the river,” Strong Wolf said. “Then I must make haste to my woman before she thinks that I have forgotten about her.”
“She knows that you could never forget her,” Proud Heart said, chuckling. “Your hearts are twined together as one heartbeat. It was your destiny to meet.”
“Yes, our destiny,” Strong Wolf said, sinking his heels into the flanks of his horse, sending it into a gallop beside Proud Heart’s.
His gaze was drawn elsewhere as Hawk rode up among the other warriors and made himself known, surprising Strong Wolf since Hawk had been avoiding him.
“And so you also are curious about the noise that has startled the birds out of the trees?” Strong Wolf said, arching an eyebrow over at Hawk. “Hawk, your mother will die many deaths inside when she learns that you have aligned yourself with he whom she considers her enemy.”
“I should have never listened to her,” Hawk grumbled. “I was but a woman while under her guidance! She is a misguided lady. How could I have not seen that?”
“Your mother is beautiful and has persuasive ways, that is why,” Strong Wolf said. “Did she not use her charm on your father to get him to marry her? I am sure that he has regretted often his weakness in the eyes of a woman.”
“No, no regret is felt on his part, or he would have sent her away and married another,” Hawk said. “Even with all of her faults, Father loves Mother. He has seen the goodness in her also. That is
why he still loves her.”
As they came closer and closer to the river, it was impossible to carry on any more conversation. The whistle became louder and louder.
When they finally reached the river, they drew tight rein and stared at the great white riverboat, its smokestack puffing out billows of black smoke into the air. Strong Wolf noticed that not all that many men were visible on the decks of the ship, which seemed strange to him. He had seen the arrival of riverboats more than once at Fort Leavenworth, and always the tiered decks were packed with throngs of people.
Today there were no people at the rails.
He made out the captain of the boat as he stood just outside the captain’s cabin, his hand constantly tugging on the handle that made the whistle continue its blasts.
Then Strong Wolf gazed elsewhere. He now saw why the boat captain was trying to draw attention to the riverboat. He needed help. His great white ship was stuck. And Strong Wolf understood why. This was a particular bend in the river that he had come to know over the years. It was an oxbow that almost doubled back on itself. A sandbar crept way out into the bend before dropping away into a twenty-foot hole choked with logs, tree limbs, and other assorted brush. The river had claimed many canoes. Now it had claimed a huge riverboat.
Only moments ago, thinking about how harshly he felt about most white people, Strong Wolf glared at the riverboat. Until the recent humiliating experiences with the white people, Strong Wolf would have helped dislodge the boat with his strong warriors.
But now? He was not sure. If he got involved with white people again, he might be asking for more trouble and humiliation.
Yet he saw this as an opportunity to once again show the goodness of the Potawatomis and cause the white people to be ashamed for their devious actions against them.
He looked over his shoulder at his warriors. “Let us go and lend our muscle to those who are in trouble!” he shouted, a quick decision having been made.
Their chins held high, their shoulders squared, they all rode off toward the riverboat.
Chapter 30
We ought to be together, you and I.
—HENRY ALFORD
Hannah and Chuck stood at the opened door, listening to incessant whistling that came from the riverboat. “They must be in some sort of trouble,” Chuck said, then stepped outside on the porch just as Tiny and several of the cowhands came toward them.
Hannah went outside on the porch with Chuck. She glared at Tiny as he gazed up at her, then focused his attention on Chuck.
“Should we go and see what’s wrong?” Tiny asked. “Should we see if we can give a helping hand?”
“Yes, I think that’s best,” Chuck said, nodding. “It’s probably that damn sandbar. If there’s a captain aboard the boat that’s not familiar with the river, he wouldn’t know to watch out for that sandbar. It kind of sneaks up on you.”
“I’m going to go with them,” Hannah said, rushing down the steps. “I’m sure several people from Saint Louis could be on the boat. Maybe it’s someone we know, Chuck.”
“I don’t think it’s best, Hannah,” Chuck said, reaching a hand out toward her shadow image. “Remember the cholera plague that has kept the boats upstream. There might still be a danger of it being transmitted by those who are on board the boat today.”
“Surely there is no danger,” Hannah said, untying her pinto’s reins from the hitching rail. She went and swung herself into the saddle. “The authorities upriver wouldn’t have let a boat travel downriver if there was still a danger of someone carrying cholera on board the boat.”
“Hannah, don’t be so bullheaded,” Chuck said, feeling for the steps with his cane. “Come, now, Hannah. Stay behind. Let the men take care of things.”
“Chuck, I’ll not be gone for long,” Hannah said, wheeling her horse around, riding away.
Tiny and his men soon caught up with her. She ignored Tiny as he sidled his horse too close to her pinto. And she knew that she had been wrong to go against her brother’s wishes. But she wanted to investigate herself what was happening on the river today. Could the wires to her parents and sister have already arrived? Could they have decided to come ahead and surprise her instead of letting her know by wire?
The one thing she dreaded was the possibility of her father coming with the intent of stopping the marriage. What worried her most was that he was more stubborn than herself. He might even try to hog-tie her to stop her from getting married.
She smiled slowly at the thought, knowing that Strong Wolf, being obstinate himself, would intervene in any scheme of her father’s.
Suddenly the whistle stopped. Hannah wondered if that meant no one was stopping off at Fort Leavenworth. A keen disappointment assailed her, for she still worried about her parents’ reactions to the wire.
But the boat was still there. She could hardly believe her eyes as she stared at Strong Wolf and several of his warriors in the water, trying to remove the debris that the boat was stuck in.
“Seems he never learns his lesson,” Tiny snarled. “He sticks his nose into all of the white man’s business.”
“He’s trying to help the white people,” Hannah said, frowning at him. “Can’t you ever give Strong Wolf any credit for the good that he does? For his generous nature? It’s men like you who have caused the Indians so much grief. I would suggest you go back to the ranch. You don’t want to dirty your hands, do you, by helping Strong Wolf and his warriors try to get the riverboat unlodged?”
Tiny said nothing back to her. Only glared. They rode onward.
Just as Hannah drew a tight rein beside the riverboat, Strong Wolf and his men came from the water, drenched with mud and debris up to their waists.
Hannah slid out of her saddle and ran to Strong Wolf. “Lord, aren’t you a sight,” she said, her eyes dancing into his.
Finding no humor in what she said, so disgruntled by not being able to dislodge the riverboat, Strong Wolf sighed heavily. “It is not going anywhere,” he said as he glared at the boat.
Hannah half heard what he said, for she was now staring up at the decks of the riverboat, stunned to see no one but a scant crew standing there. And she knew that riverboats did not travel without passengers.
When the gangplank was lowered to the land and the captain came down from the boat, Hannah stood stiffly at Strong Wolf’s side. The captain’s eyes sank into his face, in dark hollows. His white uniform was stained and dirty. He appeared not to have shaved for days, gray whiskers thick on his face.
“I want to thank you for lending a hand,” Captain Abbott said, lifting a trembling hand toward Strong Wolf for a handshake. “My men don’t have much strength. That’s why I didn’t offer their help.”
“What’s wrong with the men?” Hannah asked, her voice wary. “And why don’t I see any passengers on your ship?”
Captain Abbott gave her a wavering stare. “Miss, I hate to say that it was my impression that it was safe to travel without the fear of cholera,” he said thickly. “But it took only one ill passenger to make me realize that I was wrong. I was advised against it. I paid no heed to the advice.”
Hannah paled. “Are you saying that those on board your boat are ill with cholera?” she gasped, her thoughts returning to her parents and sister. Oh, surely they wouldn’t be on board. She prayed there had not been enough time since she had sent the wires for them to have made plans of travel.
“Yes, seems so,” Captain Abbott said, dropping his hand to his side after giving Strong Wolf a weak handshake. “Thank God, though, most of the crew isn’t sick with the disease. They are just worn out from caring for those who are.”
He took a quick look over his shoulder at the boat, then looked solemnly at Hannah again. “We had a doctor on board the boat, or more would have died,” he said.
“A . . . doctor . . . ?” Hannah said, her heart sinking. “His name, sir? What is the doctor’s name?”
“Howard Kody,” the captain said, forking an eyebrow at her reaction when sh
e grabbed for Strong Wolf, in an effort to steady herself.
“Lord, no,” Hannah cried. She inhaled a quavering breath.
Then she broke away from them and ran toward the boat. Ignoring those who shouted at her to stop, Strong Wolf among them, Hannah ran on up the gangplank and shoved the crew aside, who stood gaping at her. She ran in and out of the cabins until she found that which housed the ill.
Her knees grew weak when she discovered her father kneeling beside a bunk, trying to force water down the throat of a lady whose face was gaunt and leathery, her eyes closed.
“Father,” Hannah gasped. “Oh, Father!”
Howard turned around. He dropped the cup of water and rushed to his feet. He went to Hannah, grabbed her by a hand, and quickly led her out of the room.
“What the hell are you doing?” he said in a half shout. “Don’t you know this is a death boat? Half of the passengers are dead, Hannah, and you come aboard and expose yourself to cholera? You know better, Hannah. Lord, you know better.”
Hardly recognizing him, Hannah stared at him. He was so ashen. His hair was unkempt and hung limply along his collar line. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. And he had lost considerable weight.
His clothes, which were always immaculately clean, were soiled and wrinkled. His coat was discarded and he was in his shirtsleeves, the sleeves half rolled up to the elbow.
“Where’s . . . Mother . . .?” she managed to ask, her voice thin with concern. “Father, please, please, don’t tell me that Clara is also on the boat.”
“Both are here,” Howard said, taking her into his arms, hugging her.
Then he held her away from him and gently gripped her shoulders as he told her a truth that would cut clean into her very soul. “Clara . . . she . . . is quite ill,” he finally managed to say, clutching Hannah’s shoulders harder when he saw her grow limp with despair. “But Mother is well, Hannah. She’s with Clara now. She’s seeing to her comfort.”
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