Strong Wolf nodded over his shoulder at the smoke in the distance. “Strong Wolf sent the people away, set fire to the lodges that were illegally on Potawatomis land that is ours by treaty, and have come now to set things right with you,” he said in a dignified yet threatening tone. “I was told that Colonel Deshong is no longer in charge here.”
“That is so,” Colonel Mooney said, nodding stiffly. “And I regret having to make your acquaintance under such uncomfortable conditions.” He reached a cautious handshake out for Strong Wolf. “I am Colonel Mooney.”
“Is it true that you refused to send the whites from our land when my warriors came and asked your assistance in my absence?” Strong Wolf said blandly, ignoring the proffered hand.
“Yes, I was not quite sure about this land that you claim as yours.” Colonel Mooney said, swallowing back a fear that was creeping up his spine, a fear he had always had of Indians. He slowly eased his hand down to his side.
“Why did it have to be proven to you in such a harsh way?” Strong Wolf said, sidling his horse closer to the colonel’s. “Surely you were instructed by Colonel Deshong about this land that is ours by treaty. Did you not listen, or did you not care to? Are you a man of prejudice?”
“Why, no, certainly not,” the young colonel uttered. He looked past Strong Wolf and saw just how many Indians had accompanied him to the fort. He cursed his orders from Washington, lessening the number of soldiers at Fort Leavenworth since there was peace between the white and red man. Now he wished that he had refused this post! He was being forced to allow the Indians to have the upper hand, for their number was twice that of the fort’s.
“Then I can return to my people and tell them that there will be no more intrusions on our land?” Strong Wolf said, smiling to himself when he saw the young colonel’s frustration.
“Yes, I will see that nothing like this happens again,” Colonel Mooney said, nervously raking a forefinger between his tight collar and scrawny neck. “No more settlers will take land that is yours. And there will be no retaliation over you having burned the settlers’ cabins.”
“You are a wise man,” Strong Wolf said, then reached a hand of friendship toward the young colonel. “Come soon and make council with Strong Wolf.”
The young colonel hesitated, then his hand shook as he clasped it around Strong Wolf’s. “I would be delighted to have council with you,” he said evenly.
Strong Wolf clasped Colonel Mooney’s hand for a moment longer, then released it, wheeled his horse around and rode from the fort, his warriors following close behind. Strong Wolf sank his heels into the flanks of his horse and sent his steed into a hard gallop, anxious to resume what had been sidetracked by the news of the whites having settled on his land.
The inky black of night hung over the land like a dark shroud when he rode into his village.
Hannah heard the approach of the horses. She ran from the cabin, and tears splashed from her eyes when she saw Strong Wolf in the lead of the warriors who had come home victoriously.
Strong Wolf saw her standing there. He reined in quickly and slid from his saddle, then went to Hannah and grabbed her up into his arms and swung her around, laughing.
“We showed them!” he shouted. “There will be no more trouble from the whites! They know better than to trespass on our land again!”
Hannah held her head back and laughed, so happy, so relieved!
Chapter 40
Her neck is like the swan,
Her face it is the fairest
That e’er the sun shone on.
—WILLIAM DOUGLAS
A chill wind blew across the river. The trees were bare of leaves. Autumn was gone. Winter was quickly taking a firm grip on the countryside.
A large crowd of Potawatomis were assembled, their eyes wide as they watched the final stages of the children’s schoolhouse being completed.
The children were not as frisky as usual. They stood as quietly and poised as the elders. They had something now that usually only belonged to the children of white people. They were eager to learn, especially since they adored Clara, their teacher. They admired and respected her.
She was so kind and generous to them all; to them she was almost like a second mother.
Clutching a warm shawl around her shoulders, a bonnet protecting her head from the wind, Hannah stood back with her sister Clara as the last shingle was hammered into place on the roof of the new Potawatomis schoolhouse.
Hannah reached for Clara’s hand and clung to it as she so proudly watched Strong Wolf climb onto the roof.
Struggling and groaning as he lifted a bell one inch at a time up the ladder, White Beaver climbed up after Strong Wolf.
Finally there, White Beaver handed Strong Wolf the large bell.
As Strong Wolf steadied the bell against the roof, White Beaver scrambled onto the roof beside him.
Hannah held her breath as Strong Wolf and White Beaver inched their way to the small steeple that had been built on the very top center of the roof, where the bell would ring every school day morning.
“I hope they don’t slip,” Hannah said, giving Clara a nervous glance.
“Lord, if they do . . .” Clara gasped, eyes wide as she watched them.
Hannah’s gaze held on Clara for a moment, warmed through and through to see her sister so healthy. Two years older than Hannah, tall and slim like Hannah, Clara stood with her back straight and shoulders squared. Her shawl partially hid a high-necked white blouse beneath it that was trimmed with delicate lace. Clara also wore a black velvet skirt that only barely showed her black patent-leather shoes as the brisk breeze shifted the hem from place to place.
Hannah smiled to herself as she gazed at her sister’s hair. Clara wore it the same now, as she had for so long. Her brown hair was swept up in a tight bun at the back of her head.
Hannah’s gaze shifted to Clara’s gold-rimmed eyeglasses that were perched on a long, straight nose. Her sister’s cheeks were pink with excitement, the dimples on each cheek deepening whenever her thin lips would quiver into an excited smile.
Strong Wolf’s voice and the loud applause and shouts from the crowd drew Hannah’s eyes back around. She gazed up at her husband, sighing when she saw that he and White Beaver had managed to get the bell hung. To her it was so beautiful. The meaning behind it was so wonderful. These lovely children would now learn ways to fight back when the whites tormented them in their future.
It was wonderful to know that the way these children would defend themselves would not have to be with weapons, but with words, and the knowledge of reading and mathematics.
Yes, the future for the children was bright, and she was proud to be a part of it all!
“Let us now hear how it sounds!” Strong Wolf shouted from the rooftop. He dropped a rope that was attached to the bell through a small hole in the roof, down to the one room of the schoolhouse.
The people became even more excited when they heard the bell begin to toll. The children began to dance and sing. The women rushed to the large outdoor fire where they had placed pots of food for a celebration. The elderly gazed in wonder at the school once again, then went back to smoking their pipes beside the fire.
“Hannah, they’ve done it!” Clara said, clasping Hannah’s hand harder as the bell’s peals resounded through the air, clear, crisp, and beautiful. “Do you hear it? Isn’t it the loveliest sound?”
Hannah smiled over at Clara. “Yes, so lovely,” she murmured. “And, Clara, I can never tell you enough times how happy I am that you have chosen to teach here at the Potawatomis village. You could have chosen to teach even as far away as New York state. It would be much too long between visits.”
Clara, tears rushing from her eyes, turned to Hannah and drew her into her embrace. “I have you to thank for so much,” she murmured. “You, Father, and Mother. If you hadn’t cared for me, night and day, during my recent illness, I wouldn’t have made it. I never want to be far from my family, and Lord knows that Saint Lou
is is far enough away from Mother and Father.”
“We’ll go as often as we can,” Hannah said, then stepped away from Clara and placed her hands over the small ball of her belly that stretched the cotton material of her dress tautly across it. “But I won’t be doing much traveling myself. Not until my child is born.”
“I can hardly wait to be an aunt,” Clara sighed, gazing down at Hannah’s show of pregnancy.
“The baby kicked!” Hannah said, eyes wide.
“Let me feel it,” Clara said.
Hannah inched her hands aside, to make room for Clara’s.
Clara’s eyes lit up. “Oh, my Lord, Hannah,” she said. “I do feel it.”
Then Clara let out a squeal of delight. “And I feel something more,” she cried. “The child moved, kind of like rolling. I could swear I felt an elbow!”
“Or a knee?” Strong Wolf said as he stepped up to them. He swept an arm around Hannah’s waist. “My little miracle worker wife. She is making a baby whose spirit matches its mother’s.”
Clara laughed softly, then smiled at White Beaver as he came to stand beside her.
“The schoolhouse is finished,” White Beaver said, his dark eyes gazing into Clara’s. “I would like to go inside with you to see it, Clara.”
Hannah’s eyes widened with surprise when Clara walked away with him, toward the school.
Now having a reason to, Hannah gave White Beaver a second, lingering stare. He was a shorter man than Strong Wolf, yet as muscled. He stood at least one head shorter than Clara. He was at least ten years older than Clara, who was twenty.
Hannah had noticed before that White Beaver’s facial features were not as chiseled as Strong Wolf’s, yet he was handsome in his own way. He generated much warmth as he spoke to people, and he had replaced Proud Heart in Strong Wolf’s life, as best friend. He and Strong Wolf were inseparable now, their logic always matching the others. They laughed and talked and challenged each other in games.
“There seems more to White Beaver asking my sister to see the schoolhouse with him than meets the eye,” Hannah said. “Did you see how they looked at each other, Strong Wolf?”
“I can tell you how White Beaver feels about Clara,” Strong Wolf said as he watched Clara and White Beaver enter the schoolhouse.
“You know something that I don’t?” Hannah said, turning to Strong Wolf.
“White Beaver is in love with Clara, and he says that she is in love with him,” Strong Wolf said matter-of-factly. “They met down by the river one evening. They just happened along during each other’s baths.”
He chuckled. “They were alone when they met,” he said. “They became acquainted.”
Strong Wolf’s eyes danced as Hannah stared incredulously up at him. “Yes, they made love, Hannah,” he said. “And I do believe we shall soon witness a wedding.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?” Hannah asked, her words trailing off when through the glass at the window she saw her sister and White Beaver kissing.
“I felt it was your sister’s place to confide in you about things that were so private.” Strong Wolf said. He took her hands and drew her next to him. He gazed into her eyes. “My woman, is not everything good happening for us now? And soon we should be having visitors.”
“You mean White Wolf and Dawnmarie?” she murmured, relishing his lips as he brushed soft kisses across her cheeks. She was happy for her sister,
“Yes, on their way to Mexico to find her true people, the Kickapoo,” he murmured.
He turned with a start when he heard the sound of horses arriving at the far edge of the village. “Perhaps they are here even now. As you know, I have been watching for them every day.”
Everything in the village became quietly numb as the horsemen grew close enough for everyone to see that they were pony soldiers from Fort Leavenworth, Colonel Mooney at the lead.
“No,” Hannah said, sighing heavily. “What now? Can’t they leave us in peace?” She gave Strong Wolf a questioning gaze. “I thought you said that things were all right between you and the young colonel.”
“That is what I was led to believe,” Strong Wolf grumbled, frowning as he looked at the sabers in their sheaths at the one side of the soldiers’ horses, rifles sheathed at their other. “They come heavily armed today, so I would not think it is to have a peaceful council with my people.”
He turned serious eyes at Hannah. “Go home,” he said thickly. “Mother is not well today. Stay with her. Be there for her as well as to keep our child from any danger.”
Hannah nodded and turned a pensive stare toward the school. When Clara came outside with White Beaver, Hannah ran to her and grabbed her hand. “Come with me,” she said.
“Why?” Clara asked, giving White Beaver a quick glance over her shoulder as Hannah led her away from him. She watched White Beaver rush to Strong Wolf’s side.
“Clara, don’t ask questions,” Hannah said, running past Strong Wolf on toward their house. “Just come on. It is best this way.”
“But I want to stay with White Beaver,” Clara cried, again giving him a frightened stare.
“As I would like to stay with Strong Wolf,” Hannah said, half shoving Clara through the door of the cabin. “But I am with child. I am no longer able to behave in the manner I did when so many called me a tomboy. Now I am a woman, responsible for more than my own welfare.”
Once inside, panting hard, Hannah turned questioning eyes over at Clara. “Why didn’t you tell me about White Beaver?” she asked softly.
“You know, then, do you?” Clara said softly.
“Strong Wolf told me,” Hannah said, nodding.
“I wanted to be absolutely sure, Hannah, that he truly loved me,” Clara said softly. “Now I am sure. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Hannah gave Clara a warm hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she murmured.
A soft cough behind them drew them around. They walked to the fireplace. They gazed down at Swallow Song, who lay on a pallet before the fireplace, sleeping soundly.
“I’m worried about her,” Hannah said. She bent to her knees and placed a hand on Swallow Song’s brow. Then she gave a bright smile up at Clara. “Her fever is gone. She is going to be all right.”
“Thank God,” Clara said, settling down in an upholstered chair, sighing.
Hannah sat down opposite her. “Now, tell me about White Beaver,” she said softly, trying not to awaken Swallow Song.
Hannah stiffened when she heard Colonel Mooney and Strong Wolf exchanging conversation. She willed herself not to go to the door and listen. This was between her husband and the colonel.
Yes, she was learning that she had her own business to tend to . . . the household duties, and soon a child. She could no longer interfere in her husband’s business.
“Hannah, all that should matter is that I’m in love,” Clara said, beaming. “And he loves me! I was going to tell you today about our plans to be married.”
Hannah rushed from the chair. She went to Clara and hugged her. “And isn’t it so perfect?” she murmured. “We will both live in the same place, and we will both raise our children together!”
“I do hope that I have a child soon,” Clara said as Hannah went and sat down again.
“But this changes many things,” Hannah said, thinking of Chuck, and thinking of the schoolchildren.
“Yes, I know,” Clara said, staring into the fire. Then she smiled over at Hannah. “But truly not that much. I shall take my child to the school every day I teach. I shall spend evenings with Chuck, caring for his ledgers. And he has good help now, who care for his other needs. Hannah, he’s going to be so surprised to hear about White Beaver!”
“Yes, he will, but oh, so happy, Clara,” Hannah said, then unable to hold back any longer, went to the door and slowly opened it.
She held her breath as she listened, then paled when she heard Colonel Mooney tell Strong Wolf that someone had stolen a good amount of their dynamite supply sometime during t
he night.
“Are you accusing the Potawatomis of the theft?” Strong Wolf said, his hand inching toward his sheathed knife.
Hannah died a million deaths inside as she awaited the colonel’s reply.
Chapter 41
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire!
—ERNEST DOWSON
“And so someone stole dynamite from your fort last night,” Strong Wolf persisted. “Is your presence here because you have come to accuse us of the deed?”
“No,” Colonel Mooney said, shifting his weight in his saddle. “I have not come to accuse, and not so much to even question about the theft, but to warn you that the dynamite was stolen.”
Strong Wolf’s tensions lessened. He inhaled a slow breath, then stepped closer to the colonel’s horse. “You have come to warn us?” he said, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that? Why would you think that warnings are necessary?”
“Whoever stole the box of dynamite did it for a purpose,” the young colonel said, his voice drawn. “Who is to say who it will be used against? Or what? I do know that I saw in my files, when I took over the duties from Colonel Deshong, that there had been some trouble not long ago about dynamite.”
“Yes, it is true that I stole dynamite,” Strong Wolf said, again stiffening. “But if you delved into the full truths about why, then you would know that I used the dynamite to correct something wrong done against my people. The theft was overlooked. Colonel Deshong agreed with what I did. And you? Do you disapprove?”
“Whatever Colonel Deshong did white he was in command at Fort Leavenworth, and how he handled it, was his concern,” Colonel Mooney said, resting his hand on the handle of his saber. “But now I am in charge. And the dynamite is what lies in question here. Dynamite is a lethal weapon in the wrong hands. In yours, it was used to destroy a dam. In someone else’s, who is to say what it might be used for. Whoever stole it had a purpose. It is my job to discover what. It is my job to spread the word that the dynamite is perhaps in the hands of enemies.”
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