by Karen Kay
Without further pause, he gestured back in the language of sign, “From this day forward you,” he motioned toward Neeheeowee, “I am a part of your family, taking on the duties that beholds that station, no matter that you are Cheyenne and I am Pawnee. From this day forward, I am a part of your family. From this clay forward my home is yours, my family is yours. There will be peace between us. I swear to it.”
The Pawnee sank farther to his knees with his words, his head down, and with one last scream of frustration, Neeheeowee threw away his knife.
“It is done, then,” Neeheeowee said, and in that moment, the wind rushed in upon them all, the image of a woman and a small boy upon it.
All three saw the image, all three stood staring at it, Neeheeowee the first to recover and, crying out his war cry, he moved about the camp, picking up his own weapons plus those of the Pawnee. He marched then from the Pawnee camp as though a demon pursued him. He didn’t look behind him, not even to check upon her safety, and it was this action, more than any other, which told Julia that her Cheyenne warrior was not yet free.
The Pawnee, still on his knees beside her, told her something in gestures, and at his urging, she hurried from the camp, following after her Cheyenne husband.
It was odd, she was to think later. The Pawnee had given his word and as easily as that, he became friend instead of foe, Julia realizing the kinship pledge, although forged in a moment of force, would be kept by the two of them, the Cheyenne and the Pawnee, forever.
It was no less than a miracle.
Neeheeowee knew he had to leave her, at least for the moment. He could not stay around Julia and think, not being as angry as he was.
He came back to it again and again: How could she have interfered in his life as she did? Hadn’t he held the knife ready, just awaiting the moment of complete justice? Hadn’t the moment been truly his? Hadn’t he been ready to make the man an example? And Julia had made him stop. Julia.
He thought back to it now. Why had he stopped? He hadn’t needed to. He had told Julia he would show the Pawnee no mercy. So why had he?
Because of Julia? Was that it, or was it because of something else?
He couldn’t help thinking that five years of searching, five years of his life were wasted. When the time had come for him to commit revenge, he had made the man a brother instead.
Was he unable to kill the man? Was that it? Was he so weak that he could not do what needed to be done?
Neeheeowee shook his head. No, he would have gladly turned the knife. That was not it. It was something more—someone more. Julia had influenced him. Julia had suddenly brought a shred of light into his hatred. Julia had remained even stronger than the mightiest of warriors, for Julia’s was the gift of understanding, and of love.
He lifted his face to the heavens and the wind blew right up to him and away. Ah, he thought, the spirit wind. This was no ordinary wind. This was the wind of knowledge, the wind that went everywhere, saw everything. This wind talked, the words plain if one only listened.
“What do you want of me?” Neeheeowee asked aloud.
It blew right up to him, whispering in his ear, “You are free.”
“No,” he yelled out, not daring to believe it. “How can this be? I failed my wife and child yet again.”
“No,” the wind seemed to say, “You are free.” And as if to show him, an image of his wife and child materialized before him, both of them smiling, both of them waving, both of them, at last, letting him go.
And it happened right then. Before his eyes, right there in the wind, he saw his future, the things he must accomplish for himself, for his love, for his people. Neeheeowee began to tremble. He had not sought a vision this time, he had done none of the ceremonial rites, and yet, here before him lay the vision he lacked. And Neeheeowee realized what had been missing from his life in all the years past: love. It had taken love to show him his true path; it had taken the love of a strong-willed woman: Julia.
And there, on that ledge overlooking the land of his enemy, Neeheeowee cried.
That was how Julia found him.
She came right up to him, kneeling at his side and taking his hand into her own. “The Pawnee,” she said as softly as she could, “your new kin is taking care of his dead. He awaits you, for he will follow you home. I was able to understand at least that much from his gestures to me. Neeheeowee”—she ran her hands through his hair—“it is over.”
Neeheeowee didn’t acknowledge her except with a brief shake of his head. He didn’t look up; he didn’t stand up. He couldn’t. Tears streamed down his face.
Julia put her arms around him and knelt with him for a very long time, feeling the raw emotion within him as though it were her own. It was no show of weakness on his part, and both knew it. Rather, it was a strengthening. Together, they were more than the forces that had sought to overwhelm them.
Gradually, Neeheeowee looked up, placing his arms around her as he did so. Finally, he got to his feet, bringing Julia with him, and, as he did so, as he stood, the wind whipped around a corner, blowing its strength upon them.
Their hair rippled back against the breeze, their faces softened under its caress, their clothes and fringe ruffled back because of it, but before it went on its way, before the spirit wind left them forever, it whispered to them, “Together you are strong. Together you will bring wisdom to your people. Use the power well.”
Neeheeowee stared down at Julia. She looked back up at him, and she knew then that love had conquered all. Both of them were whole again. Both of them had set the other free. She began to smile. The wind whipped around them again and Julia laughed, Neeheeowee joining in until the happy sounds they made mixed with all of nature, and had anyone been there to observe them, it would have been a difficult task to distinguish which was the most beautiful: the joy of the human laugh or the sweet sighings of the wind.
Truly, both sounded one and the same.
Epilogue
Neeheeowee had given Tahiska and Kristina the best horses that he could, since they now were the kin of his betrothed. He smiled at the gesture he had made while relief swept over him. At last he was free to follow his heart.
He sat within his lodge now, awaiting his bride. And though he knew the Lakota were not familiar with the Cheyenne wedding custom, it was the one ceremony he insisted upon despite anyone else’s rituals. Besides, his own relatives, Mahoohe and Aamehee, Voesee and her son, had recently arrived in the camp to witness it. They received word of his formal marriage and his invitation to them to join him from, of all people, his new Pawnee kin.
Neeheeowee shook his head at the thought. The Pawnee man, who only a few weeks ago had been his worst enemy, was fast becoming the best kin Neeheeowee had ever known. The man remained aware of all the kinship taboos and acted accordingly. The Pawnee had even brought his own family here, to raise his own children in this Lakota camp.
Neeheeowee heard noise outside and knew that out there, Kristina led Julia toward his lodge on one of the best horses which she and Tahiska possessed.
He could even hear his own male relatives beside his lodge, Mahoohe and Tahiska, Wahtapah and others, all waiting anxiously outside, a fine blanket spread out upon the ground.
Neeheeowee could barely stand the anticipation, and he rushed to the tepee entrance to peep outside.
He caught sight of her and for a moment all conscious thought fled. Never had he seen anyone more beautiful than she. Never had he witnessed anyone so fair.
She dressed in white elk skin, her costume beaded across the top in shades of blue with an occasional yellow or red bead giving the creation designs. Long fringe fell from the arms of the gown and also from the bottom, hanging straight to the ground. Her hair had been braided with ribbons and ornaments, her face painted in the fashion of the plains Indian, with vermillion slashed down the part in her hair. His stomach fell at the grand sight of her, his loins jerked in pure reaction, and, at last, Neeheeoee smiled. It was good, their love, their marri
age.
Kristina led the pony Julia rode right up to his door, where some other women lifted Julia off her mount and set her upon the blanket which had been lying there on the ground all this time. As soon as she was settled, Neeheeoee’s male relatives picked the blanket up by the corners and, lifting it entirely, prepared to carry Julia into Neeheeowee’s lodge.
Neeheeowee let the tepee flap fall as though he hadn’t watched the whole thing and when his male relatives opened the entranceway, to bring Julia in, Neeheeowee felt himself trembling as though he were a young boy again.
Several jokes were exchanged between the men before they left, but at last they were gone, and Neeheeowee stood within his own lodge, looking down upon his wife. At last, with these ceremonial rites, Julia became his wife, in fact, in deed, and no one could dispute it.
Julia suddenly smiled at him, Neeheeowee returning the gesture, and, as she fell into his arms, they laughed, the sound of their happiness seeming to re bound throughout the entire village.
All the people heard it. All the people smiled, shaking their heads and walking away from the newlyweds’ lodge as quietly as they could.
Soon the feasting would begin, the partying most likely to go on well into the night. And although no one really expected the young couple to join in the festivities that night, it wouldn’t keep the others from enjoying the feast given in the young married couple’s name.
Truly, this night, all had cause for great happiness; the love between these two people, a part of their life and blood now, would serve as an example of strength in years to come.
The drumbeat sounded louder that night than ever before, the beat, which symbolized the heartbeat of the people, drowning out the vows exchanged between the two people who stood alone in the tepee on the edge of the camp circle. And there, had anyone looked, he would have seen two silhouettes illuminated on the tepee’s lining, Neeheeoee’s hand over her heart, Julia’s over his, vowing their love to one another forever.
But at that moment in time, no one gazed back toward the tepee. Perhaps it was for the best, for, as it is said by the wisest of men, love, forged and once pledged, needs no warranty from another to last forever.
Afterword
The wagon master to Colonel Sumner, Percival Lowe, delivered this address to the Kansas Historical Society on January 14, 1890:
The Cheyenne and Arapaho were the habitual occupants of these plains from the Platte to the Arkansas, and from the forks of the Solomon to the mountains. I then thought, and still believe, that the Cheyenne were the handsomest, noblest and bravest Indians I ever saw in a wild state. I met them often, knew them well and their way of living. They fought their enemies with an unrelenting vigor—that was their religious duty from their standpoint. They were as virtuous as any people on earth; whatever civilized man may say of their table manners, their family government was perfect—perfect obedience to parents, and child whipping unknown; veneration and respect for old age was universal. In their relations to each other crime was practically unknown. They worshipped God, in whom they had implicit confidence. They hated a liar as the devil hates holy water, and that is why, when they came to know him, they hated the white man so intensely. For fortitude, patience and endurance, the sun never shown on better examples.
Percival C. Lowe
About the Author
Author of seventeen American Indian Historical Romances, Karen Kay aka Gen Bailey, has been praised by reviewers and fans alike for bringing the Wild West alive for her readers.
Karen Kay, whose great-great grandmother was a Choctaw Indian, is honored to be able to write about something so dear to her heart, the American Indian culture.
“With the power of romance, I hope to bring about an awareness of the American Indian’s concept of honor, and what it meant to live as free men and free women. There are some things that should never be forgotten.”
Find Karen Kay online at www.novels-by-karenkay.com.
Look for these titles by Karen Kay
Now Available:
Lakota
Lakota Surrender
Lakota Princess
Coming Soon:
Blackfoot Warriors
Gray Hawk’s Lady
White Eagle’s Touch
Night Thunder’s Pride
Legendary Warriors
War Cloud’s Passion
Lone Arrow’s Pride
Soaring Eagle’s Embrace
A love that defies the ocean. A secret deeper than blood.
Lakota Princess
© 2012 Karen Kay
Lakota, Book 2
Driven from her home in England by hostile political forces, Estrela was little more than a girl when she came to be raised by a far western Lakota tribe. On the wide, sweeping plains she grew tall and strong, and won the love of a handsome warrior.
But on the eve of their marriage, she is torn away from her native family, torn from the man she loves, and forced to return to a place that feels more like a foreign country than her home. There she merely exists, haunted by her love’s sweet kisses and heated embrace, yearning for his unforgettable touch.
Black Bear has braved the ocean to find the woman whose beauty has captured his soul. But no sooner has he arrived in England than he is called upon to save her life. Who in their right mind would want to murder such a gentle spirit?
As Black Bear comes between her and death time after time, Estrela wishes they could both just disappear back to the plains, and bury the secret she has long hidden—even from him. A secret from which only their love, truer than blood, can save them.
Warning: Contains separated lovers who will let nothing come between them...not oceans, her mysterious past or a murderer bent on destroying their future. Sensuous love scenes could make you want to cool off with some skinny dipping, hopefully with a gorgeous lover of your own.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Lakota Princess:
“Waste Ho Win.”
Estrela sat up straight and glanced into the crowd.
What was that? The wind blew by her and seemed to whisper. What? No. It could not be. It couldn’t be her name—her Indian name.
She listened; nothing more. She gazed back around and stared at members of the Royal Guard as they lined the streets of Pall Mall. Dressed in red jackets and tall, black hats, the Guard reminded her that she was, indeed, in England. Crowds of the English populous had lined up behind the military for a view of their royalty, the parade being in honor of the adjournment of Parliament. There was nothing here to make her think of the American West. Nothing Indian. Nothing at all.
“Waste Ho Win, where are you?”
Estrela caught her breath. She’d heard Lakota words. There in the wind. It wasn’t possible and yet…
She stared around her. She sat alone, perched up high in the back of a grand, mahogany coach. The Duke and Duchess of Colchester, along with their two daughters, reclined in the main coach, their seats facing one another. Two drivers, dressed in red jackets and black hats, sat in front, controlling a team of four horses.
A faint breeze of humid air rushed past her and Estrela strained to hear more words the wind might carry to her, for any sort of explanation.
Yet there was nothing more. No scent. No memories.
She brushed a hand over her forehead.
Did the breeze know something?
She thought she’d heard him. His whispered words, carried on the wind. She shook her head as though to clear it.
At that same moment the drums began to beat, fifes to play, the Guard, straight ahead of her, began to march. And as her own coach pulled out into the street, behind the Guard, the noise of the horses, the crowd, the military should have blocked out any further sound.
“I look for you.”
Estrela gasped. It was him. She would recognize his deep, baritone voice even a thousand years into the future; she would recognize him. How was this possible?
Could it be that the wind carried his voice all the way from the
Americas?
It is said in Indian culture that wind goes everywhere, sees everything. And spirit wind, she remembered, will speak to you.
“Mato Sapa?” she thought to herself.
“It is I,” the voice returned.
“Are you comfortable, Lady Estrela?”
Estrela’s eyelids flew open and she gaped at the Duke, who had just spoken to her. She smiled, though surprise kept her silent, until at last she managed to say, “I am fine.”
The Duke smiled back at her and she sighed.
The Duke of Colchester had been kind to her, going so far as to present her to King William even though the King, being ill, had barely noticed her, leaving it to Queen Adelaide to smile a welcome to her.
There was something odd there, Estrela thought as she remembered it now. The Queen had stood surrounded by her court, and Estrela remembered feeling as though eyes watched her, followed her, too closely…
“Waste Ho.”
Why wouldn’t the wind leave her alone? Not only did she hear his voice, now an image caught at the corner of her vision—there in the crowd.
It couldn’t be.
It was impossible…and yet…
She shouldn’t have thought of him today. She should have left his memory in the past. Wasn’t that where it belonged? This was no good. She seemed to hear him, see him everywhere. She must not think of him, she…
She strained forward in her seat despite her thoughts, and peered into the crowd, around the people, to the right, to the left. She saw nothing more.
What was that? She shifted in her seat, but whatever had caught her eye was gone as surely as if it had been a phantom.