White Wind

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White Wind Page 32

by Susan Edwards


  Golden Eagle’s head snapped up when he heard Ben’s announcement. His hands gripped Sarah’s tighter. “No! She goes with us. We will care for her.” Golden Eagle was not about to let her out of his sight. He closed his eyes. He could still see her body falling limply, lifelessly to the ground.

  A hand shaking his shoulder brought Golden Eagle back to the present. “Son, Sarah is in shock and she’s lost a lot of blood. She may not survive the long trip to your village. Bring her back to her home. Let Mary tend her. I know how you feel, Golden Eagle, and you too, Chief White Cloud—after all, she is your daughter—but right now, we need to do what is best for her to speed her recovery.”

  White Cloud stared long and hard at Ben. He then held up a hand to still Golden Eagle’s reply. “You are wise, white man. Without your help, we would not have found my daughter in time to save her life. We return to your home.”

  Turning to Golden Eagle and Hawk Eyes, White Cloud added, “She must rest and heal before making the trip to your village. Nothing must stand in the way of her recovery.”

  Golden Eagle met Chief White Cloud’s firm dark gaze. The unspoken command stood between them. Golden Eagle bowed his head in respect. As Sarah’s father, the chief had every right to make this decision.

  “Mary will be worrying,” Ben said. “Let’s get her home. She’ll be fine. She’s as strong and stubborn as they come.” He rose and wiped his bloodied hands down the sides of his hide breeches.

  Golden Eagle rose and cradled Sarah gently against his chest as he went to his horse.

  Gray smoke hung in the air and ashes and sparks fell, covering everything in sight. All eyes returned to the smoldering fire. Ben shook his head, silently giving his sympathy to the old chief beside him.

  White Cloud hung back as the two men turned toward the horses. “I will follow later. There is business I must attend to first.” His gaze went back to the fire and his grieving warriors stood silent behind him.

  Golden Eagle reached out and laid a comforting hand on his soon-to-be father-inlaw. “I must leave now and tend to White Wind.” Golden Eagle received an understanding nod, and placed Sarah in Ben’s arms as he mounted.

  As Golden Eagle reached down to take Sarah, a cheer went up from the silent warriors. Everyone stared as Jacob came from behind the burning shack, shouting. “Found ’em. I found ’em. Layin’ in some bushes behind the burnin’ building,” Jacob yelled out, slowly leading Red Fox and Wild-Flower away from the blinding, choking smoke.

  Red Fox had his eyes closed against heat and smoke, his face red and swollen with burns. He gasped and choked as he inhaled, and his upper arms and chest were covered with angry red welts and blisters.

  Away from the intense heat, Red Fox forced his eyes open, stepped away from Jacob and on weak and wobbly legs, stopped in front of Wild-Flower’s joyful father.

  Wild-Flower, still coughing and choking, fell into her father’s secure arms as others caught Red Fox.

  With tears of happiness, White Cloud fell to the ground, where he stroked Wild-Flower’s pale soot-streaked cheeks, murmuring his love and thankfulness. He glanced up to give his thanks to the brave warrior, and noticed that Red Fox had eyes only for Wild-Flower.

  Wild-Flower turned her head and reached out to clutch Red Fox tightly. With a wry smile, White Cloud handed her back into Red Fox’s arms. “You are the warrior my daughter has chosen. She is wise to follow her heart’s desires. I see now it would have been wrong to force a marriage between two people who love others. I would be honored to call you son. You saved my daughter’s life. I cannot repay the gift you have given to me this day.”

  Red Fox nodded and accepted help mounting, and finally the large group slowly made their way back to the house, leaving a small group behind to take care of the bodies and keep watch on the smoldering ruins.

  Marring the crystal-blue sky, thick plumes of steel-gray smoke rose from the distant tree tops. Climbing upward, dark fingers stretched across the horizon, blotting out the sun’s bright rays as it rode the strong currents.

  The acrid smell of burning wood drifted on the brisk afternoon breeze, while small gray flakes showered the earth with a fine mist of ashes.

  Mary stood on the wooden porch, wringing her work-roughened hands, her attention riveted on the billowing smoke in the distance. Stray strands of hair blew across her face. Impatiently, she reached back and smoothed the loosened hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck, securing it firmly against the prying fingers of the persistent wind.

  Pacing back and form, she grew more impatient and worried as minutes slipped into hours. The agonizing wait had been worse the moment she’d spotted the fire in the distance hours ago. She closed her eyes tightly and once again prayed none had been hurt—except for those responsible for putting her baby in danger, she silently amended, not feeling the least bit guilty for that dark thought.

  Moving swiftly, Mary went inside, letting the front door slam in her frustration. She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’ve got to keep busy, or I’ll go crazy with waiting.” Clearing her mind of all depressing thoughts, she went to the stove and stoked the smoldering embers, watching with satisfaction as flames eagerly rose to consume the fresh wood.

  Grabbing two huge black kettles, she filled them with cold water from the barrel outside the door and set one on the stove to boil and the other over the fireplace. She figured she would need one for hot strong coffee and one for any injuries, perish the thought.

  With that in mind, she went to a small cupboard and reached for her cloth bandaging strips and healing herbs, and bustled about the warm kitchen until everything was readied to her satisfaction.

  Long before she could see anyone, the ground vibrated and shook, signaling the approach of many horses. Mary grabbed the shotgun by the front door and waited, peering through a small crack in the open door. She also noticed Henry stationed by the barn.

  Mary held her breath until the first riders broke through the cover of the trees. Relief relaxed some of the tension from her shoulders. She set her rifle down and opened the door as Ben rode directly to the front of the house.

  Running down the wooden steps, Mary nearly collided with him as he swung from his saddle and ran to meet her. “Where is she, Ben? Where is Sarah? Tell me she’s safe. On, God, why isn’t she with you? She’s not…” Mary choked, grabbing her husband.

  Tenderly, Ben held her face and looked into her fearful eyes. “Easy, old woman. Calm yourself. Willy won’t bother Sarah ever again. He’s dead. Our girl is safe and should be here soon, but…”

  Mary reached up and wrapped her arms tightly around Ben’s neck, choking off his next words as she gave in to tears of joy and relief that Sarah was safe.

  Ben grimaced. “Why do you women always have to get so damn emotional?” He tried to pull his wife away from him so he could explain further.

  Just at that moment, the others galloped into the yard. Mary looked up expectantly, searching for Sarah. Her tearful smile of welcome faded. Her face blanched and her hands rose to cover her mouth and stifle her cry of horror when she saw Sarah, who lay pale and unconscious in Golden Eagle’s arms. Her anguished eyes took in the bloodied and torn dress.

  Forcing all thoughts of dread from her mind, Mary concentrated only on tending to Sarah. Pushing impatiently against Ben, freeing herself, Mary admonished him. “Why didn’t you tell me Sarah was injured? Out of the way, old man. I must see to her.”

  Still muttering her complaints, Mary reached Golden Eagle, who was dismounting carefully, trying not to jar the unconscious Sarah.

  Ben shook his head. “Women. Why do I bother tryin’ to explain anything?” He stepped quickly out of the way as Mary sprang into action.

  Humorously, he watched Mary turn to the fierce warriors and start giving orders, oblivious to their looks of wariness and bewilderment. She paid no mind to their fierceness as she impatiently led Golden Eagle into the house, shouting out orders, turning to make sure they obeyed.

&nb
sp; “Gently now. In here. Hurry! Now lay her here. Careful, careful, that’s it. Oh, my poor baby. You’ll be all right. Mary’ll fix you up. You’ll see. Oh, dear, oh, dear,” Mary moaned as she bustled into the cabin, shutting the door firmly.

  Chapter Forty

  Golden Eagle shook his head as if in a daze. He’d barely set Sarah gently onto a thickly cushioned platform, drawn a deep breath and leaned down to check her still-bleeding shoulder before a human whirlwind shoved him aside to place a bowl of hot boiled water on a small wooden table next to where Sarah lay moaning. In a flash, Mary flew across the room and returned with strips of white bandaging slung over one arm and several jars and pots clutched against her bosom.

  Fascinated, Golden Eagle just stared. He’d never seen another human move so quickly. Shaking his head, he felt dizzy watching Mary dash about. Finally, after one last trip for toweling and bedding, Mary’s small feet carried her swiftly to Sarah’s side.

  Moving back to make room for the woman, Golden Eagle straightened, then cursed the low ceiling overhead as he rubbed the tender spot on his head. Mary spared him a brief glance while picking up an old hunting knife. “This is where her pa use to sleep. Sarah slept upstairs in the loft.” Her head indicated the rungs leading to an area up above his head. “It’s a bit crowded in this narrow space. Wait.”

  Mary carried all her supplies to the fireplace. “Help me move that bed out here. It’s warmer and there’s more room.” Carefully, the bed was moved and positioned near the fire. Supplies laid out to her satisfaction, Mary struggled to cut the strong deerhide dress to remove the bloodied garment.

  Coming to his senses, Golden Eagle stepped forward, gently put Mary aside and took his prized hunting knife from a painted sheath at his waist. Part of his war gear included a wide rawhide belt worn at the waist over the thong holding his breechclout in place. From there hung all items a warrior needed in battle.

  Swiftly, Golden Eagle cut the dress from neck to shoulder and down each side, leaving two pieces for easy removal. Mary nodded her thanks, but Golden Eagle had already started to remove Sarah’s clothing.

  Mary’s voice rose indignantly. “Here now, this isn’t proper. I will tend to Sarah. You can wait outside with the rest of the menfolks. She’ll be all right. You can see her later. Now go on, out with you.”

  Golden Eagle turned to Mary, but before he could speak, she continued, shaking a finger at him. “I have been taking care of this child for many years. You may sit with her after I have seen to her injury. I must get that wound cleaned and dressed quickly or infection will set in.”

  Golden Eagle spotted the disapproval written on the old woman’s face. “White Wind will soon be my wife. I will help with her care. It is my duty to see to her needs.” His voice brooked no argument, and his features hardened. He was ready to do battle if necessary to remain at Sarah’s side where he belonged.

  Even though Golden Eagle greatly admired this woman who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, who knew what needed to be done and got on with it, she’d not force him to leave. No one could.

  Mary sighed, recognizing Golden Eagle’s firm resolve. Shrugging, she turned away to soak a strip of toweling in warm water. Wringing out the excess water, she sent a stern warning toward Golden Eagle. “Ah, well, I might need help moving and holding Sarah while I tend to her and change the bedding,” she stated grudgingly, subtly letting Golden Eagle know she was still in charge.

  “With my help, we will finish sooner and that would be better for Sarah, would it not?” Golden Eagle queried, letting this woman know that he wasn’t trying to usurp her position in Sarah’s life.

  His softly asked question seemed to work. Mary’s hands fell from her hips as she started washing Sarah’s bloodied shoulder, revealing an oozing hole.

  “As there are none here who can help me any better, you may remain.” Mary carefully bathed, inspected and washed all dried blood away from Sarah’s still form. Before applying the bandages, she made a poultice from several herbs in the many jars and pots on the table, and reluctantly added some of Golden Eagle’s, taken from a pouch dangling from his belt after Mary closely inspected the herbs first.

  At last, Sarah was bathed and donned in a clean white nightdress that hid her bandaged shoulder, her pa’s quilt pulled up to her chin. Her head rested on a fluffed-up pillow, and her golden hair was pulled to the side and tied with a length of ribbon.

  “Feed her some of this for pain while I clean up and check on the others.” Mary handed Golden Eagle a bowl of cooling tea.

  Golden Eagle frowned and sniffed the liquid until he saw the tightening of Mary’s lips. Straightening, he did as told, dribbling small amounts past Sarah’s colorless lips. Setting the bowl down, he sat beside her, stroking his fingers up and down her wan cheeks as he murmured words of love and encouragement.

  His eyes never left Sarah’s colorless face. His hand clasped hers. Hours or mere minutes could have passed, but Golden Eagle forgot about everything and everyone around him. He paid no attention to the comings and goings as he willed his White Wind to heal. Fleetingly he wondered if their baby could possibly survive the boot kicks she’d received. He’d seen the ugly bruises covering her ribs and abdomen when he’d removed her clothing.

  Soon her skin had the pink flush of fever, and Golden Eagle bathed her, kept her cool and when she moaned in pain, gently lifted her head and forced the pain-relieving liquid down her throat. His eyes glazed and he held his arms overhead, stretching weary and stiff limbs.

  Mary thrust a cup of steaming liquid under his nose. “Here. Take this,” she said. Golden Eagle glanced up and saw the older woman with two mugs of steaming brew in her hands. “It’s coffee. Same as I gave all the others. Go ahead, drink it. It won’t harm you. You look like you need it.”

  Golden Eagle took a tentative sip and found it strong, bitter but not unpleasant. He nodded his appreciation as Mary joined him, taking a seat on the other side of Sarah. Golden Eagle raised his head as a thought came to mind. “Red Fox and Wild-Flower, have their burns been seen to?” he asked, realizing he’d neglected to ask about them in his worry over White Wind.

  “I dressed their burns.” Her eyes narrowed and she gave a snort. “Acted as if they didn’t trust me either. They insist on remaining outside with the others.”

  Mary rose to her feet, setting her coffee down. Pacing, she stopped, folded her arms across her ample bosom and stared down at Golden Eagle. “I would have a promise from you, young man,” she began.

  Golden Eagle glanced up and found her uncompromising stern gaze leveled at him. He lifted his brows as her tone suggested he might still be a young brave, instead of one of the most powerful warriors in his village.

  But he smiled indulgently and nodded for her to continue. “Speak, Healing-Woman.”

  Mary seemed to startle when addressed with an Indian name. “I wish to attend Sarah’s birthing. You must bring her here for the birth of the babe, or allow me to come to her when her time is ready. I want to see the safe delivery of her child.”

  Golden Eagle had just taken a large gulp of the still-hot coffee, and now he choked, sputtering as he stared in amazement at Mary. “How did you know White Wind carries my child?” he asked, wide-eyed. “Do you have the gift of sight, old woman?” Golden Eagle eyed Mary uneasily.

  Mary grinned and relented. “I have sewn Sarah’s clothes for many years. I watched her grow into womanhood. There are certain changes in a woman’s body when she is with child that another woman would be instantly aware of.”

  Understanding dawned, and Golden Eagle grinned as he looked toward Sarah. He had not seen her for several weeks due to the buffalo hunt, and today he had been more concerned with her bullet wound and had not taken notice of her swelling abdomen.

  Suddenly, concern clouded his face. “Tell me, Healing-Woman, has the child been harmed this day?”

  Setting her empty mug down, Mary shook her head. “Sarah is young and healthy, despite her injuries. Your baby is well p
rotected within her womb and I do not think you have anything to fear on that account.” She glanced at Golden Eagle before she resumed speaking.

  “I have seen for myself your love for her. You also saved her life and this I will remember always. It would make this old woman very happy if allowed to come and visit and to have her and her children visit here. This is still her home. It will always be here for her children and their children.” Mary sat and waited, hands twisting her plain white cotton hanky with shaky fingers.

  Golden Eagle sighed in relief. He would promise this and more if necessary to ease this woman’s mind. After all, his White Wind loved this woman as a mother and their children would know her as another grandmother.

  “I love Sarah and will provide all she needs. She is happy with my people, has earned their respect and friendship. She works hard and is always looking out for those in need. You have raised her well, Healing-Woman. She will be well treated and cared for. I will bring her to see you as often as is possible and will send for you before the birth of our child. Sarah would wish to have you with her.”

  Mary rose wearily and patted Golden Eagle on the shoulder. The long day of worry and waiting had taken its toll on her aging body. “Thank you. I will leave you as I have much work to do yet.”

  Afternoon quietly gave way to evening. Golden Eagle stood at the window of Sarah’s cabin. Pushing the shutters farther open, he glanced out and noticed the large circle of warriors not far from the buildings. Chief Hawk Eyes and White Cloud had accepted Ben’s invitation to stay the night.

  Most of the warriors, though, had gone into the woods to camp for the night, being too uncomfortable in the presence of white men and their wood structures.

  This new friendship and blood tie between his people and Sarah’s would take time to forge, but he was confident that these people of Sarah’s were good, and therefore worthy to be called friends.

  Wearily, he stretched, standing on tiptoe, rubbing a hand across his jaw as lack of sleep nearly overcame him. Turning, he started toward the ladder leading to the loft. Mary had told him Sarah had slept there. Because of her injury, they’d decided to leave her by the warm fire, but Golden Eagle felt the need to see where White Wind had once slept. Besides, he was so tired. If he didn’t get up and move about, he was going to fall asleep where he stood.

 

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