Blue Thunder sat on a boulder and Licks Too Much had joined in their walk. He was pleased that the dog grew very fond of Moon Glow and her of his canine. He was happy that she finally opened up to him about her family, but he didn’t miss the pain in her eyes, turning them a darker shade of gold.
“Was that your sister, that day in the wagon?” He knew the answer but he wanted to hear from her lips.
“Yes.” Her eyes grew misty.
He pulled her onto his lap. “I am sorry, I meant no harm. My aim was to strike her face and she moved, causing my blow to hit her stomach. Did I harm the infant?”
Her gazed seemed far away and he suspected she was recalling that awful day he made the dreadful mistake of killing innocent people because of his anger and stubbornness. He nudged her and whispered, “Moon Glow?”
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He had grown accustomed to calling her the name his aunt had dubbed her.
“No, the baby was fine, but you did kill my servant who was like family to me.”
He held her close, wishing he could take back that day, but you cannot put milk back into a mother’s breast, nor can you change the past. “Can Moon Glow forgive a foolish Apache?”
She said nothing for a few moments.
“We all do things we regret. I never hated you for that, well… not for long. You and your people lived here long before the white man intruded; if I were in you shoes, um, moccasins, I’d probably have done the same.”
Blue Thunder’s hearts swelled with so much love. “Yes, we Apaches see ourselves differently than the white eyes. We face constant struggles to survive. When we raid a village, we do so from pure necessity, to provide corn for our families when game is scarce. Most of the time we go on our way, moving from camp to camp, in pursuit of deer and buffalo, collecting roots and berries, sometimes planting seeds that we later return to harvest. That day I was looking for
buffalo when my party came upon many slaughtered beasts. I was in a fowl and murderous mood. I should have never attacked your wagon, but I feared more white men means less meat for my people.”
She put her arms around his neck. “We need to put that in the past and work on our future being that we have enough problems in that department.”
“Woman of my heart, you are very wise for someone so young.”
She snuggled, wiggling her fanny. “So you think I am a child?” The palm of her hand circled his male nipple, getting the response she knew she’d get.
“Mmmm?” He tried to reposition himself under her bottom but he couldn’t hide the fact that his body had changed. “My soul mate is becoming a…a she wolf,” he rasped.
Melissa giggled. “You mean vixen? Oh!” She yelped when he quickly lifted her and threw her over his shoulder, taking her into the deeper part of the woods to show her she couldn’t toy with him and not be punished. But when he was finished giving her a good tongue lashing along with his hands, she barely had enough breath to tell him she’d take her licking anytime, but she did manage to tease him a little.
“I think my husband slobbers over me too much. Your dog is a bad influence,” she
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giggled. He called his dog over who has been napping a distance away. Happy to join the couple, he bounced over and began licking Melissa’s face, making her laughed more. “Good boy,” he encouraged the animal. “Since you complain about my tongue, I think you should feel dog’s to compare.”
She cried uncle. “I give up, Licks Too Much is worse.”
Blue Thunder laughed richly. “Tell me about your childhood, my heart. We know one other’s body but we are stranger when it comes to the knowledge of our past. Are you a Christian?”
“My parents were non-denominated, but they believed in many of the Christian beliefs.”
He grunted. “Christians believe Adam was made of clay, most natives believe Earth Mother was our creator. We Apaches were “born of the water”. The mother of all Apaches was Changing Woman, also known as Esdzanadehe, who emerged from the ocean in a seashell. She survived the great flood in an abalone shell and wandered the lands as the water receded. Then on top of a mountain she was impregnated by rays of the sun and gives birth to a son, called, Killer of Enemies. Then she got impregnated by the rain and gives birth to a son who is called, Son of Water. When she grows old, she walks east towards the sun until she meets her younger self. She then merges with her youthful self and becomes young again. Therefore, she is born over again and again, from generation to generation.”
Melissa found that very interesting and amazing belief for people who lived in the desert but she kept that option to herself and said, “I won’t even try to pronounce that name, I still have a hard time with your fathers. But I have given up, that’s why I simply call him Chief.”
He nodded in compliance and kissed her nose and commented, “I bet you were a cute child.”
“Are you fishing?”
“Fishing?” His thick dark brows arched in question.
“It’s white man’s way of saying that a person is asking about something but beating around the bush.”
He snorted. “You accuse red men of having a strange tongue. Fishing? Beating a bush?”
“It only means, you’re asking for information but not really coming out with it; probing.”
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“I was not, as you say fishing or beating bushes. I simply stated the fact. You must have been a pretty child.” “Oh, husband. I was just joshing with you; teasing.”
“Oh?” Up went his brows again. “I will have to remember not to take wife seriously from now on.”
She frowned feeling his hand brush the strains of hair from her neck. She wore her golden locks in two braids now, but inside their home, he insisted she wear it unbridled.
He winked at her broadly. “Only, teasing. Ha!”
She smacked him playfully and admitted, “And, I had broken a few young boys’ heart, for your information husband.”
His impish grin made his eyes twinkle with mischief. “So you are pulling my leg again.”
“Why…you faker! And I’m not kidding.”
Melissa also learned that the Apache regarded coyotes, insects and birds as having been human. She had no doubts that Blue Thunder could have been a coyote, who certainly knew how to make her howl. Then she told him about her family and about that horrible day the Northern army raided her house, killing her parents. She shuddered inwardly at the though and how she missed her sister and brother whom she had no idea if he still lived. At that moment her sense of loss was beyond tears.
“It was on my sister’s sixteenth birthday, a day we should have been rejoicing life, and
instead we buried the dead. My servant Effie had a fear of going down to the root cellar.” She anticipated his questions and explained it was a space under the house. “I fell and twisted my ankle and by the time I was well enough to stand on it, I went to pick out the potatoes. I heard gun shots but assumed my papa was practicing his shooting skills so I though nothing of it. When I reached the door, it was locked. Confused and shocked I couldn’t understand, there was no reason for it to be bolted. After a few times trying to get someone’s attention, I cried myself to sleep only to be awakened by strange sounds and voices. I knew enough to remain silent. After many hours, my servants released me. Then I discovered the horror of what had happened. My parent’s were murdered and my sister was raped.”
She heard Blue Thunder sucked in a labored breath.
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“One of you own kind did this to your sister?” his voice hardened.
She swallowed a burdensome sigh, trying not to reveal her contempt and anger. “Yes. I guess it doesn’t matter what color our skins are, there’s barbarians in all races. You were right, my race is capable of doing the things you’ve claimed that day you brought me here.” He held her closer in his embrace and promised her that he would make sure her future was nothing but happiness.
“We must put the past behind us,” he repeated the word
s she had said before.
Soon Melissa was familiar with the routine.
With the speed of a hawk, she realized that two months had flown by. She mulled over what supposedly was a savage breed, and some books say not even quite human, but they seemed
much the same way as was the white race. They loved, laughed, and labored as she did. In that time, Laughing Tree had approached her, offering her needles, sinew, and colored beads. Blue Thunder told her that his aunt was asking for forgiveness and also might be willing to show her how to make a dress.
Melissa said, “Tell Laughing Tree thank you. I accept and harbor no ill feelings towards her. It is I who should ask her for forgiveness.”
He replied, “It is good to accept the peace offering and to let the matter rest.”
Laughing Tree helped her make her new dress. Her bead work and stitches weren’t as professional as her teacher’s but she was assured that in time, she would be skilled in the craft. Nevertheless, the finished dress appeared beautiful to Melissa. It was the first thing she ever made for herself. She also learned that their moccasins were immediately distinguished from other tribes by a buckskin flap on the toe. When Melissa questioned this, the Indian women explained it came in useful deflecting cactus spines when one runs near, Jumping cholla cactus. She laughed at herself. Back at the plantation, she would never have been caught dead sewing her days away. Bittersweet thoughts saddened her as she recalled her early home life, how much her life has changed in a short time. No amount of tears would bring back the past and she was sure her future held a new promise. Her monthly flow had not come since her capture; she was carrying Blue Thunder’s child. What would he think? Would this create greater friction
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between him and his people? He claimed that they were man and wife but the chief still refused to accept it. They had no ceremony, but she also believed he was her husband and she needed no papers to prove it. She would tell him tonight.
“A papoose?!” Blue Thunder was pleasantly surprised and showed it by lovingly touching her stomach. The surprised reaction etched into his features and gave it a comical expression and she had to smile in spite of her nervousness.
“Are you happy?” her voice croaked slightly as she tried to control her uneasiness. She searched his dark eyes for answers to her many questions. Would his people let him marry her in an Apace ceremony? If not, would he have to choose between her and his people? Who would he chose? Why was her joy constantly marred by sorrow and uncertainty? Her husband must have seen her downcast expression and took it for disappointment over the baby.
“You do not want child?” She looked away.
“Yes, I want our child, but I want it to be viewed as a joyous occasion not filled with so much uncertainty, my husband.” She trembled, “I don’t want this child to cause more trouble between you and….”
He turned her around and placed his finger under her chin to look at him in the eyes.
“Such beautiful golden eyes; so clear; so soft, like honey. Nothing can hide behind those light orbs, especially not lies. Such a tiny bundle of trouble, but trouble I would spend the rest of my life with.” She saw his eyes twinkle with mirth, believing that he might be half teasing her. He hugged her and confessed that no greater joy had anyone ever given him, than his Honey Eyes, called Moon Glow by his people. Even though he himself had taken to calling her that, he claimed that in his heart she would always be his Honey Eyes.
“My people will come to love my soul mate and our child. We must give them time.”
“But---”
“Shush,” he stopped her words with a feathery kiss. “I am happy, my love. Do not be troubled, we will work this out. You must trust me.”
She bit her lower lip with indecision but said, “I will trust you. And if you are happy, then so am I. We’ll be a strong family no matter what. But I do not feel right not being legally your wife. I mean legally by your customs.”
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He grunted a manor that told her he was slightly annoyed. “We are man and wife. We do not need white man’s words to make it so. As soon as we mated, we were wed in my heart and our laws. My people will not completely accept our marriage until the council puts their blessings on us.” He touched his chest, saying, “You must feel it here, and then it is right.”
She nodded. “I do feel it in my heart that you are my husband. But please do not leave your people over me.”
“I will do as you ask, Moon Glow. With or without blessings of council, I will not marry Apache maiden. They might not accept you, but they will accept me. My child will be a half- breed and cannot succeed me, but that time is far away and times change.”
Melissa was happy over his words and mused over her new name. She missed his old pet name for her but this was now her true Apache name and she accepted it.
Another month slipped by taking with it all Melissa’s thoughts of ever seeing her family again. She settled into a daily routine with her husband and Laughing Tree. The women of the village kept their distance and simply ignored her. Dasodaha had not once spoken to her and her
heart ached that he might never acknowledge her. No matter how she tried to win his favor with a smile or a few words, he would only grunt and walk by. She mentioned this to Blue Thunder many times but he continued to insist his father needed time.
Star Gazer, her brother-by-marriage talked pleasantly to her and she liked him. He was so different from the other braves. Melissa wondered if he didn’t have some white blood in him because of his love to study the skies at night. He took part in Indian games with the other boys his age but he was very quiet and the brunt of many jokes. She would find time to talk with him about the universe and many things beyond the tribe.
In addition to Laughing Tree, she became friends with a young maiden named, Weeping Bird. She spoke little English but still could teach Melissa crafts. Weeping Bird was tall, not beautiful, but pleasant looking. She had a warm smile and a sweet disposition, one couldn’t help liking her. She took part in the war games, despite the protests of the young braves. She was glad that her husband would see that Weeping Bird could join in, for she was able to keep up with the best of the bucks. This made the maiden an outcast with the other maidens and the envy of the
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young braves. There were times when the girl could beat them in a race and archery. Melissa often had to laugh, thinking what a perfect match Star Gazer and Weeping Bird would make. The Indian girl reminded her so much of herself, never liking to do women things when she was on the plantation. Her matchmaking ideas were beginning to evolve.
This one morning dawned bright but cool; a reminder that winter was coming. With a heavy heart, Melissa kissed Blue Thunder good-bye. “I will miss you, my love, please come back soon. My days and nights will be as empty as a dry well.”
“I will miss my wife of my heart. It is time to hunt buffalo, for winter is coming. We need meat for food and skins to protect us from cold. Dasodaha and most of the braves will join the hunt. We take many of the women too, to help with skinning.” He placed his hand on her stomach, “If wife was not with child, you would come along.” Giving her a hug, he continued, “You will have Laughing Tree, Star Gazer, and Weeping Bird to keep you company. It took many words to persuade Weeping Bird to stay behind. Her skills are of great value to us but I need her to protect you from danger.” He kissed her long and passionately.
She watched the swing of his loin cloth, giving her a glimpse of his rounded behind. Her eyes lovingly studied his bronzed back, marveling how his muscles rippled beneath the satiny tone of his skin and she was sorry for the scar that marred his beautiful body. He was like a panther, sleek but solid. It amazed her how much he filled her life. Without him, she was only half alive. It alarmed her when she realized the power he had over her emotions; how she depended upon him for her comfort and protection.
Melissa kneaded her stomach and thought about the seed growing inside her womb, feeling such dread if Blue Thunder
were taken from her. She now knew the loved her parents had for each other. She thanked God for giving her that rare gift of love and to be loved so deeply.
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TWENTY-FIVE
Every so often Laughing Tree nudged the daydreaming white girl, who spent more time rubbing her swollen stomach than working. “You will never finish baby’s blanket in time for happy event,” she said teasingly.
“Oh, Laughing Tree, I wish things were perfect for us.” The mother-to-be sighed, it was such a unhappy release of breath and she put another stitch in the skin. “Why couldn’t he just be an ordinary Apache instead of the chief’s son? Then there wouldn’t be a problem.”
Laughing Tree hugged her sad friend, wishing she could tell Moon Glow that her nephew had a touch of white blood in his veins. If her brother were not so stubborn, he would admit it also. She grunted inwardly believing that his pride was the reason why he was hiding the truth about their grandmother’s past. She remembered her mother, Red Dawn, and the stories she was told when she was young. Red Dawn spoke many times of her father, Napoleon Gagnon, whom the Indians called, Nappy. He was a big man who worked the soil looking for magic medicine in plants and trees for white man’s diseases. He married her grandmother, Sings Like Winds.
When Sings Like Winds became a widow, she married Wise Warrior, giving him a son, Dark Like Raven. But both father and son were killed in a raid. Dark Like Raven was to be next leader because of true blood line, but Laughing Tree’s father became leader only because his half
brother died. Her mother, Red Dawn, gave birth to Dasodaha, Laughing Tree and two other females who died in childbirth. Red Dawn also died bearing the last infant.
Coming out of her own reverie, she said, “Things will work out, be patient.”
“That’s what Blue Thunder keeps telling me.” Moon Glow stabbed her frustrations into the skin, making another stitch.
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