Bound by Honor
Bound by Love
Ruth Ann Nordin
Bound by Honor Bound by Love - Smashwords Edition
Published by Ruth Ann Nordin at Smashwords
Copyright © 2012 by Ruth Ann Nordin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Other Books by Ruth Ann Nordin
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Author’s Note
Dedication Page
Dedicated to the people who’ve kept history alive through written accounts of how the Native Americans, especially the Mandans, lived. It is your work that has inspired me to write about Woape and Gary, Julia and Chogan, and Onawa and Citlali.
And for those who dedicate their time and resources to preserving history at the Bismarck Heritage Center and On-A-Slant Indian Village (both in North Dakota).
Other Books Written by Ruth Ann Nordin
Regency Collection
The Earl’s Inconvenient Wife
Her Counterfeit Husband
Nebraska Historical Romance Series
Her Heart’s Desire
A Bride for Tom
A Husband for Margaret
Eye of the Beholder
The Wrong Husband
Shotgun Groom
To Have and To Hold
His Redeeming Bride
Isaac’s Decision
South Dakota Historical Romance Series
Loving Eliza
Bid for a Bride
Bride of Second Chances
Native American Romance Series (historical)
Restoring Hope
Brave Beginnings
Bound by Honor, Bound by Love
A Chance In Time (novella) – main characters show up in Restoring Hope and Bound by Honor, Bound by Love and Meant To Be)
Virginia Brides Series (historical)
An Unlikely Place for Love
The Cold Wife
An Inconvenient Marriage
Romancing Adrienne
Other Historical Romances
Falling In Love With Her Husband
Meant To Be
Contemporary Romances
With This Ring, I Thee Dread
What Nathan Wants
Suddenly a Bride
Christian Sci-Fi Thriller
Return of the Aliens
Chapter One
January 1902
Onawa’s heart raced in anticipation. This was the moment she’d been waiting for ever since her father told her she was to marry Citlali. Her hands trembled as she inspected the deerskin dress she’d made for this special day. Before the day was over, she’d be Citlali’s wife. Taking a deep breath, she smiled at her sister and her aunts as they fussed over helping her get ready for the wedding.
“Citlali’s given you many gifts,” one of her aunts said with a wide smile. “This is a great honor for you.”
“Yes,” another aunt added. “Other women envy you.”
Onawa’s gaze shifted to her sister who held back from agreeing with them. Onawa knew Woape didn’t think marrying Citlali was a good thing. If she had, she would have married him instead of running away from the tribe a couple years earlier.
Maybe Onawa should be thankful Woape didn’t say anything. She wanted to have good memories of this day. Years from now when Onawa looked back on her wedding, she’d tell her children how her greatest dream came true. Better yet, she didn’t have to share Citlali with Woape. In her tribe, it was common for the men to marry the sisters of his first wife. While she understood the reason for such a thing—to help replenish the dwindling number of their tribe, she was relieved she had no other unmarried sisters to share him with.
Julia entered the earthen lodge and approached them. “I brought it.” She held up the hand mirror.
“Your hair is done,” one of her aunts said. “Take it and see.”
Thanking Julia, Onawa took the mirror and inspected her reflection. The beads woven through the two braids in her black hair were a gift from her father. Citlali would remove them that night before they consummated their marriage. Her face warmed at knowing she’d finally get to kiss him. It was something she longed to do, especially after seeing how much Woape and Julia enjoyed kissing their husbands. She was sure she’d enjoy kissing her husband, too.
“I still can’t believe how beautiful your dress is,” Julia commented, drawing Onawa’s thoughts from Citlali’s full lips.
Onawa glanced down at her deerskin dress, which she spent months decorating. She’d painted images of the sunrise to represent the beginning of her life with Citlali, the sacred turtles which Citlali’s clan possessed, the wooden circular structure that sat at the center of their tribe to represent the Lone Man, and a white buffalo robe to represent their wedding day.
“The ways of your people are important to you,” Julia said. “Citlali values the traditions as well.”
Glancing at Woape and her aunts who had turned their attention to getting the lodge ready for the wedding, Onawa asked Julia, “Do you like Citlali?”
Julia brushed the wisp of blonde hair from her eyes and nodded. “I didn’t until he saved Chogan’s life.”
“After the Smallpox outbreak, we lost a lot of people,” Onawa softly replied. “Maybe our people will never flourish as they once did. Woape doesn’t think so. Many are giving up. Citlali didn’t mean to hurt your feelings when he suggested Chogan take a Mandan wife. He wanted to see more full-blooded Mandans being born. But even with that being the case, I understand why you didn’t like him for doing that. I wouldn’t want Citlali taking another wife.”
“Onawa, Chogan and I won’t be staying in this tribe much longer. Once the snow recedes, he and my brother will work on a cabin. I don’t belong in this tribe, and Chogan doesn’t belong in Bismarck. We decided to get a place where we can be at peace.”
“The chief was unkind in his treatment of you.” She glanced at the mirror, where Julia’s reflection was so different from her own. Julia’s white skin contrasted with Onawa’s darker skin, but it was something Onawa hardly noticed. When she saw Julia, she saw someone who had become a good friend. “Your cabin won’t be too far from here, will it?”
“No. I’d still
like to visit you, Woape, and Aunt Erin.”
“Good. That means I can visit you, too.”
“Of course. You’re always welcome in my home.” Julia hugged her. “I hope you’ll be as happy as Chogan and I are.”
Blushing, Onawa replied, “I hope so, too.”
One of her aunts touched her shoulder and whispered, “There is something we must discuss before the ceremony.”
“I’ll tell your father it’s almost time,” Julia said, squeezing Onawa’s hand.
Onawa smiled at her friend before she turned to her aunt. “What is it?”
“We will go over here where we can have some privacy.”
Curious, Onawa followed her to a section of the lodge usually reserved for the men when they wished to be alone. Since all of the men were outside the lodge at the moment, they could use the space. Her aunt motioned for her to sit, and she obeyed.
When her aunt sat in front of her, she leaned forward and looked kindly into Onawa’s eyes. “It is my duty to tell you about the way of a man and woman when they share their bed.”
Onawa nodded and waited for her aunt to continue.
“You’ve seen horses and dogs mate?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I believe I understand the process.”
“You probably do. Male animals are built differently than female animals, and this is for the continuation of life. The female is the one who carries the new life and, in due time, gives birth to the baby. As it is with the animals, it is with us. However, with women, the first time can be uncomfortable. The way we are made…there is a barrier the male part of your husband must penetrate if he is to give you his seed.”
Onawa frowned and asked, “What do you mean by uncomfortable?”
“It varies from woman to woman. There are some women who don’t notice much at all. Some say it’s a stinging sensation that quickly goes away. Some experience pain and bleeding. And a couple have discomfort that doesn’t get much better until they give birth to their first child. The last situation is not as frequent as the first two.”
Onawa shifted, apprehensive about what the different degrees of discomfort meant. What would her experience be like? She hoped it wouldn’t be the third. She didn’t want to dread her time with Citlali, especially when she spent all this time anticipating being held and kissed by him. The holding and kissing would undoubtedly lead to lovemaking.
“You will probably be fine,” her aunt said. “The process of creating new life is often a pleasurable experience for the woman. It is the way we are designed. Otherwise, life wouldn’t continue. But I wanted to give you something to ease your first time so that your body will be more receptive to your husband when he comes to you tonight.” She removed a pouch from around her neck and handed it to Onawa.
“What’s in it?” Onawa asked.
“It is a mixture of herbs you should slip under your tongue. It’ll relax your body so that by the time you go to bed with him, you will be ready for him. But, and this is where shy brides miss what’s important, you need to instruct him on how to bring you pleasure. Our bodies are different from theirs. They don’t know what to do. If something he does feels good, let him know. If something doesn’t, let him know that, too. Some women never enjoy being with their husbands in bed, but there’s no reason why they shouldn’t. We are capable of pleasure, just as men are, and since we are designed to receive pleasure, we must insist on it. Understand?”
Her face warm from her aunt’s meaning, Onawa nodded. Yes, she understood, but she didn’t know how she could dare voice such a thing to Citlali. She could hardly manage more than a couple sentences whenever they were together. To speak on more intimate matters didn’t seem like something that was feasible, but she told her aunt she would do as instructed and rose to her feet when she realized that the older woman was done. After her aunt hugged her, she looked at the pouch. Well, at the very least, she could take the herbs. She was nervous enough and knew it would be wise to heed the one piece of advice she didn’t have to talk to Citlali about.
After she took the herbs, her father entered the lodge with the white buffalo robe. It was time for the ceremony. Her heartbeat picked up. Taking a deep breath, she added the pouch to her belongings and approached her father.
“Are you ready?” her father asked her.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“Good. I’ll tell Citlali it’s time,” he replied and headed out of the lodge.
Gulping, she took a deep breath. This was it. Her aunts whispered their congratulations to her while Woape wished her good luck in a tone that indicated her uncertainty, but Onawa didn’t give it much thought. She wiped her clammy hands on her dress and waited by the fire pit as Citlali’s family entered the lodge.
Her father and Citlali came in last. Though her father was holding the white robe, her gaze fell to Citlali who followed close behind. Would she ever get over the initial thrill of seeing him? He removed his brown buffalo robe and set it to the side of the fire pit. She took in his silky black hair that fell down his back and his slender frame which was covered with a deerskin tunic shirt and leggings. He wasn’t a hunter, so he lacked the muscles of some tribal members—a thing some women preferred. But she liked him just the way he was.
Her father set aside the white buffalo robe so he could lay out a brown robe on the ground. After he welcomed Citlali and Onawa to sit, he took the white robe and draped it over their shoulders, giving Onawa’s shoulder a squeeze to let her know he was proud of her. She would have enjoyed her father’s praise had she not been preoccupied with Citlali. They sat so close to each other that their legs touched, and her body flushed with pleasure at the physical contact.
Her brother entered the lodge with four horses, and Onawa noted the strength in the stallion and three mares. They were good horses, some of the best she’d ever seen, and they were a gift from Citlali to her family. The others watching the ceremony murmured their approval at the fine gift before they sat around her and Citlali to share a meal with them.
All around her, their families were enjoying the food. She managed to eat some of it, but her thoughts kept going back to Citlali who seemed intent on listening to the chief who sat on his other side. She didn’t pay much attention to what the chief was saying until he said her name. Startled, she looked up from the corn she was eating and looked over at him.
The chief smiled. “It is a good day when two of our people who appreciate our traditions join their lives together. May you and Citlali have good health and many children.”
“It is a good day,” Citlali told her, his lips turning up ever so slightly.
Knowing the hint of his smile was for her made her heart beat with excitement. She returned the sentiment and turned her attention back to the corn. He must care for her to some degree. Even if they didn’t really know each other, they were forming a foundation for a solid marriage. She was sure of it.
When the meal ended, Citlali took the white robe and carried it to the top of her lodge. Onawa’s aunts excitedly surrounded her while Citlali addressed her father’s sacred bundle, announcing that the white robe was her father’s gift to the gods. As expected, one of Citlali’s aunts went to greet Citlali who, in turn, gave her the white robe.
Citlali returned to Onawa so they could collect robes and other gifts from their friends and families. Her brother, the members of their age-grade societies, and the younger people of the WaxikEna clan joined them for this task. Once they were done, they went to the Okipa lodge where they hung all the items they collected. The white robe hung in the center of the items, proudly on display for all to admire, and this was where Onawa and Citlali stood. Nearby, the members of the tribe who held the singing rites sang the first sacred song.
During the music, she dared a glance at Citlali. When he turned his gaze to her, she noted the gentleness in his eyes and offered a nervous smile. His fingers brushed hers before he held her hand. Her heart sped up as a thrill shot straight through her. Everything would be alright.
This marriage would be a good one. Reassured, she relaxed and turned her attention back to the singers as they finished the first song.
Citlali let go of her hand so he could retrieve one of the items hanging in the lodge. He picked one of the glass-beaded necklaces and gave it as a gift to his mother. His mother accepted it and squeezed Onawa’s hand. “Thank you for agreeing to live in our lodge so Citlali can continue to provide for us,” his mother whispered.
“I’m happy to leave my lodge to come to yours,” Onawa softly replied.
His mother nodded her thanks and went to the white buffalo robe to pray for success in all of Citlali and Onawa’s endeavors.
The singers sang the next song, and afterwards, they gave more gifts to the wedding guests. The process continued in an orderly fashion. The singers would present one of the sacred songs and more people would receive gifts. In return, the people would offer them an item from their sacred bundles.
Afterwards, the guests who had rights to the corn ceremonies took turns painting the white robe, some choosing simple pictures and others employing more elaborate decorations. For each thing they added to the robe, they received a gift for their contribution.
When the robe was finished, Citlali turned to Onawa and said, “I’d like to dedicate this ceremony to the Lone Man.”
She expected as much since he was second to the chief, so she nodded her agreement, not that he needed it but she was pleased he thought to get her opinion on the matter.
Citlali carried the robe out of the lodge, and the others followed him so they could watch as he draped it over the sacred cedar which stood in the center of the tribe. “The white robe now belongs to the WaxikEna Clan,” he told the group.
With that announcement, the ceremony was complete, and Citlali was now her husband. Onawa couldn’t stop the smile that lit up her face. She turned back to her aunts and friends who congratulated her. When her sister hugged her, she whispered, “I hope he’s good to you.”
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