by Karen Kay
And as he drifted back to earth, he whispered to her, his shaft still aroused and warm within her. “I promise you that sometime I will take you with all the finesse and longing of couples well acquainted. Not always will I act the young brave, unable to hold back my passion.”
And to this statement Julia said, “I hope not, my love. I hope not.”
And with her legs still wrapped around him, her weight still on him, she began to move, and then he, too, and if Julia did anything at all this day, she proved to Neeheeowee that the moment of which he spoke still lay in the distant future.
Bent’s Fort lay just ahead of them, the proof that they were close to it being the amount of foot traffic they encountered, from traders and Indians to pioneers and white covered wagons.
Julia and Neeheeowee were approaching Bent’s Fort from the southeast this day, their route allowing Julia to get an excellent view of the trading post which stood situated in the heartland of the plains, almost in the center of what most called the Great American Desert. Here, dry winds blew incessantly, depriving the land of water and developing within the traveler an urgent sort of thirst. To the south, across the Arkansas, lay barren sand hills and to the north, bluffs of chalk and rock.
She and Neeheeowee had been lingering upon the outskirts of the fort from its southern end, both of them reclining on a rocky bench a hundred yards or so up from the river. There they had been able to see the long stretch of valley and rolling plains spread out before them, the distant mountains of the Spanish Peaks glittering off to the southwest and Pikes Peak to the northwest.
By mutual consent, ever since the Comanche attack at the river only a day or so ago, the two had traveled together, Neeheeowee taking the lead of their party, as was Indian custom, Julia following along behind him. She also led their pony by its buckskin reins, the animal having been brought by Neeheeowee as he’d followed Julia over the prairie. The pony was laden down with their supplies of parfleches and buffalo robes, for which Julia was grateful. Not only did it allow her to have more of her own things around her; so, too, was she spared the burden of carrying the heavy robes.
She kept her head bent, her eyes looking down as they approached the fort, only venturing to look up to catch an occasional view of the activity happening all ground her or to snatch a quick view of the fort.
Bent’s Fort—she gasped at the magnificent sight of it. The morning sun hit the gray-brown, adobe bricks, making the high walls of the structure appear reminiscent of a hundred-year-old, stone castle, with turrets and domes, rounded walls and belfry towers. The only thing missing, she decided, was a moat. But its lack was more than made up for by the scattering of Indian villages, stationed all around the fort; and the laughter in these camps; the incessant beat of the drums were more welcoming than Julia would have liked to admit.
Neeheeowee, however, avoided the camps, leading Julia instead up to the fort. And Julia wondered why he evaded his own people. Did he avoid them because of her, because he did not wish to introduce her, or was there some other reason?
Julia shook her head at her thoughts and tried to recall instead what she knew of the history of this fort, recollecting that Charles and William Bent had opened this post several years back, hoping to cash in on the abundant fur trade to be had in the area. Friendly toward most tribes, the Bents particularly catered to and allowed free rein within the fort to the Cheyenne and their allies, the Arapaho. Some said this was due to William Bent’s marriage into the Cheyenne tribe to a pretty Indian girl, Owl Woman, but most knew the alliance between the Cheyenne and the Bents had begun from the very first incident of Cheyenne meeting Bent. It was rumored that William Bent saved the lives of two Cheyenne warriors when, unannounced, a warring tribe of Comanche had entered the fort. The Cheyenne had never forgotten the incident, and a strong alliance had been forged from then on.
Neeheeowee had told Julia he had business at Bent’s Fort and that there would be many white people at the fort, some en route back to Leavenworth. He had asked her if she intended to find passage back to her home, to which Julia had shrugged, not knowing what to say. She didn’t want to return to Fort Leavenworth, but she couldn’t stay with Neeheeowee.
What do I do? she wondered. She just didn’t know, and the conflicting emotions were almost more than she could bear.
Julia tilted her head, watching Neeheeowee now as he paced along in front of her, his path heading toward the main entryway. He stood tall and proud, his black hair fluttering back against the quiver of arrows upon his back, and Julia had an urge to reach out and touch a long lock of it where it fluttered out against the wind.
But she quelled the urge and quickly looked down. Truly, he was the handsomest man she had ever seen.
They came right up to the fort without incident, passing into it by way of a tunnellike entryway, the two of them blending in with the other Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians so much so that no one gave them pause, not even the other Indians. Julia still led the pony by its reins and quickly found herself dispatched away from Neeheeowee, ushered on toward the corral. She feared leaving him at this place, but she had little choice in the matter since Neeheeowee turned back toward her, nodding his approval of her leave-taking, though he signaled her to return to him swiftly.
An old Mexican woman led her to the south of the main building, where stood the most beautiful corral Julia had ever seen. She let her breath out in awe.
Here the adobe walls were shorter than those of the main building, perhaps six or seven feet tall to the sixteen-to twenty-foot-high walls of the central structure. But it wasn’t that which made the enclosure so pretty. Along the tops of the walls, mayhap for safety, a heavy profusion of cactus had been planted, their spring flowers in tremendous bloom. There were startling reds, mixed with the stark white of other blossoms, growing in great profusion and sitting atop the most green of cacti she had ever seen. And the sun, beaming down on the flowers, seemed to make the walls come alive with color.
Julia smiled, feeling dazzled by the effect, but she had only a moment to appreciate its beauty, for the old Mexican woman, in a cascade of Spanish, shooed her young charge onward, indicating where Julia could corral her pony, and also where the young woman could store her belongings. Julia nodded her thanks to the old lady, uttering one of the few words she knew in Spanish, a simple “gracias.”
She watched the Mexican woman for only a moment more as the lady departed before, with a flick of her wrist, Julia turned her attention onto Neeheeowee’s mustang pony and to that animal’s care. She and Neeheeowee had taken only a short walk this morning with the pony, and so the mustang needed no rubdown, and Julia merely tethered the animal, reaching up to grab their parfleches from its back.
The sun felt warm upon her back while she listened to the singing of the birds that had nested near the cactus. She almost smiled, remembering another time when she had felt this good, listened so intently to all that took place around her. The smell of food cooking, of meat set over campfires, of goodies baking in wood-burning stoves made her feel homesick, and Julia realized that this was the first time she’d been within white company for several months. And the irony of it was that she was now stationed within a white man’s fort, surrounded by white men with white tradition and here she stood, Indian.
It got worse. She wasn’t quite sure she wanted the white company. She liked Neeheeowee’s just fine. If only he…
I can’t think of it, she scolded herself. When I do so, it only brings me more heartache and confusion.
It was true that she would have to make a break from Neeheeowee—and soon, but she didn’t have to do it right how. Tonight, tomorrow would be soon enough. She had a whole day before her, a beautiful day, and she expected to enjoy every minute of it.
The thought did intrude upon her that it might be the last day she would spend with Neeheeowee. But feeling the tremendous emotional upheaval such ideas brought her, she chose to ignore the possibility of that altogether.
Julia took h
er time seeing that their belongings were safely stored and the horse properly watered and fed before she returned to Neeheeowee. And though he feigned indifference to her appearance upon the scene, Julia knew that he had been watching for her. It was evident in the way he relaxed as soon as she entered into the main area, the way he seemed to concentrate so deeply on those around him.
Julia smiled to herself, her head down as she stepped toward him, taking her place in back of him, as was Indian custom. Neeheeowee ended his conversation right away, and moving through the crowd, headed toward the corral.
“Wimunga. Julia?” Neeheeowee spoke to her without turning around to see if she followed. “I had grown worried about you. Did you need some help?”
“No,” she said, smiling. She bent her head at once so that no one else could catch her smile. “It was just such a pleasure to be here, to be out in the sun with no worry as to whether some warring tribe would find us, that I took my time over my tasks.”
He grunted, before he muttered, “Haahe,” in acknowledgment, then said, “I have spoken with my cousin, Little White Man, who is the chief of this place, and I have made good with him for us to spend the night here. It is quite an honor my cousin extends to us since usually no Indians, even the Cheyenne, are allowed within the fort after sundown. I will honor him with the pony I have brought with me in payment for what he does for me.”
“This is good,” Julia said. Then, “Did you tell him about me?”
“What about you?”
“Did you tell him I am white?”
“No,” Neeheeowee said. “Why would I do that and bring attention to you? Are we not trying to make others believe you are Cheyenne?”
“But there are so many white traders here that I thought I might—”
“It will do you no good, Nemene’hehe.”
“What do you mean?”
Neeheeowee sighed. “If you mean to beg passage from the white travelers, I may as well tell you now I have no intention of letting you go with them.”
“Is that why you followed me when I tried to escape?”
He thrust out his chin. “I did more than just follow you,” he said in answer to her. “I kept you from finding them. I cleared a path for you to follow each day, keeping it going west and north, so that you would not find those travelers.”
“Well, that explains…” she began in English, then aware of what she’d said, the language she’d used, she raised her head and gazed around her, finally asking in Lakota, “Why?”
He tossed his head. “I do not intend to let you go.”
Julia was taken aback by the incongruity of the statement. “But, Neeheeowee, I am surrounded by white people. I could approach anyone here and tell them all that has happened to me and obtain passage back East.”
“Yes,” Neeheeowee said. “I know this. But I think I should tell you that I would follow you and take you captive.” He shrugged. “It makes no difference to me. Go ahead if you must. I will still come for you.”
“How can you be so certain you could take me?” she asked. “I would tell them what you plan, and they would watch for you.”
He smirked. “Do you think they would stop me? White men do not guard well, nor do they track well. Be assured, I would do it.”
Julia hesitated in her footing for a moment while she tried to make sense of what this Cheyenne warrior said. She lost pace with him and found herself having to run to catch him. But once again, falling into step behind him, she said, “I do not understand this, Neeheeowee. You have made it clear to me what you intend to do with your life, and I do not see any place for me within your plans. Why keep me with you? Wouldn’t it be better just to send me back to Fort Leavenworth?”
“Hova’ahane, no.”
“Why not?”
Neeheeowee stopped so quickly, Julia bumped into him. He spun around to face her. “I know that your husband was killed,” he said, silencing her with a signal of his hand when she would have interrupted. “The Kiowas who captured you told us the story. I also know your best friend lives with the Lakota. Is there someone else at this soldier town that waits for you? Is there a child that needs you, a parent, perhaps?”
Julia shook her head.
“Then we do not go back there.”
They had reached the corral, and Julia glanced up at the sky before she returned her gaze to Neeheeowee, once again eyeing this Indian brave who stood before her. “I do not understand this,” she said. “Am I not a bother to you?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Would it not be easier to travel without me?”
Again he nodded.
“Then, why—?”
“Some ‘bothers’ are worth the trouble. I intend to keep you with me. I have from the first moment when I asked you not to leave me. Now that you are here, you stay. Leave if you must. Taking you captive would solve many problems for me since I would never be expected to marry a captive. At least then I would not feel guilty every time we share one another’s sleeping robes.”
“Oh!” It was all she could think of to say, and though she physically backed away from him, he followed her, his eyes staring into hers.
At last, though, he stopped and, straightening, said, “I am sorry. I should not have told you all of this. I have been trying to let you make your own decision. Leave if you must.”
“But you would only follow.”
Neeheeowee shrugged and, looking around him, he said, “Come, I wish to show you something.”
He turned around without responding to her statement, beckoning Julia on with a wave of his hand. He led her in and around different corrals until he came to one set way off to the side. There he leaned up against one of the wooden posts.
“There,” he said, pointing. “Do you see the black pony out there in the middle? The stallion?”
Julia nodded.
“That is a pony I left in Little White Man’s care last time I was here in this fort. It was the best from my herd and I did not wish to take it to the Kiowa trade. I left it here to retrieve later.”
“He is beautiful. What is his name?”
“He has none yet. I had just captured him before I brought him here. He is one of the best from the wild herds. It took me much effort to catch him.”
Julia grinned. “I can see why that is.”
Neeheeowee turned his head toward her. “I have just given him to my cousin, Little White Man.”
Julia spun about. “You did?” she asked. “Why?”
Neeheeowee didn’t answer for a while, looking out over the corral toward the stallion instead. In due time, however, Neeheeowee spoke up, saying, “I did not know what kindred you had, if any, which were left at the soldier town. I only know that if something happened to me, I would see you safely settled. I have arranged with Little White Man to take you in as though you were cousin to Owl Woman, his wife, and her sister, Yellow Woman, if ever I were to perish. Remember this because from here, you could either return to the white soldier town or you could stay with my people, whichever you would choose.” He cast her a fleeting look from the side before he grinned. “I worried.”
Julia didn’t say a thing. What could she say? She just looked at him, meeting his gaze.
He had traded away the best that he had—and for what? For her. How did one respond to such generosity?
“I thank you,” she said in English before realizing he could not understand her, but he was already turning away from her.
“Come, now, Nemene’hehe,” he said, striding away from her, back toward the main structure. “I will show you the lodge area where we will stay this night.”
“Neeheeowee,” she said, catching up to him and touching him on the arm. He stopped, turning toward her briefly. She gazed up at him, squinting her eyes, “I am overwhelmed by your generosity. I…”
“It was nothing,” he said, and, turning aside, he led her to their room.
They climbed a ladder to the second floor, Neeheeowee opening the door to her room an
d entering first, as was Indian custom. He looked around the room, checking under the bed, in the corners, and behind bureaus, but, finding nothing, he motioned Julia forward.
She stepped into the room, feeling as though she had gone back in time, to another life, another place where she had been white. Almost at once, memories assailed her, items she had quite forgotten were called back to mind; a four-poster bed, a dresser, chairs, a washbasin, and a table.
She looked around her. The room was a mixture of dirt floors, adobe walls, and a large post set in the middle of the room, its purpose to give the roof greater support, she supposed. There were two windows set well into the thick walls; but tucked off into a corner of the room was a vanity, and Julia walked over to it now, her fingers gliding over the wooden structure as though its drawers were made of marble, not solid oak.
Julia glanced back at Neeheeowee where he still stood at the door. “Wapila,” she said in Lakota. “I rejoice. Thank you for what you have done.”
Neeheeowee nodded and, coming farther into the room, closed the door behind him.
“Little White Man says we will eat our evening meal in here. I will finish my business with him tonight, and we will leave in the morning.”
Julia nodded, saying nothing. She looked away from him, her gaze taking in the solidness of the walls, their color, their size. She studied the sturdiness of the floor, saying at last, “So soon? Do you fear that I will leave you, Neeheeowee? If you do not want me to, there is a simple remedy; marry me.”
His chin shot in the air. “I do not make my plans because of fear. If I could offer you marriage, I would. I cannot.”
Julia looked away, going to stand by one of the two windows in the room. This one looked out onto a patio. At length, she said, “I appreciate all you have done for me, Neeheeowee. You have come to my rescue many times. You have even saved my life. Perhaps if I had not been raised so strictly, I might be able to set aside these things that I feel, but I cannot. And Neeheeowee”—she caught his glance from across the room—“without marriage, I cannot go with you.”