by Karen Kay
War Cloud stepped back, away from her, and she tried to stand up on her own, but it was nearly impossible. As the stinging sensation of free-flowing blood came back to her limbs, she collapsed.
But he caught her, holding her next to him tor several moments. She felt his chest rise as he inhaled, felt him hold that breath for a moment and then exhale, his sigh warm against her skin.
He said, “Would that we could stay here the night through, but we must leave.” He dropped his arms, setting her away from him, and the night was so pitch-black that she could barely see him unless he stood directly in front of her. However, he was not so far away that she could not identify certain elements of his features and the outline of his body. Clearly, she could see that he was straightening his clothes—what little of them he wore. She gasped back a sigh.
Whereupon she began to stamp her feet, hoping to restore some feeling to them and to her toes. Briefly she fell in toward him and chanced a glance up at him, only to come away, startled. Concern had etched itself upon his features and, not bothering to be bashful, she asked straight out, “What is troubling you?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek and his mouth tightened before he admitted, “There are many things.”
“Such as…” she prompted.
He paused, and in his eyes, there for a moment, she could have sworn she descried a look of apology. For what? she wondered.
But when he spoke, all he said was, “There is danger for us here, I believe.”
“Is there? Why?”
“I do not think I was reasoning too well this night,” he explained. “If I were to consider the reaction of those people to our dance, then I would conclude that these white people do not think well of the Indian. In truth, there are probably some here among these settlers who would like to see me dead. By being here with you and by accompanying you, I have obtained some protection from them, but I think it could be fleeting, especially since they now know we are lovers.”
“How would they know that about us?” she asked. “And even if they did, what does that matter? I don’t think anyone would dare to harm you.”
“Do you not? Tell me, what punishment would befall anyone who killed me? Would the white man’s law discipline him, or would it be more inclined to honor him?”
“War Cloud, I don’t think—”
“Hear me out.” He held up one finger as though to ask her for silence, and continued, “Only a fool would have failed to miss what was happening between us when we danced. And I fear that if we do not leave this campsite tonight, at first light, there could be great trouble for me, possibly for you, too, for you have taken me into you.”
“But,” she sputtered, “I have told these people how you saved myself and the children. You are a hero. Surely these few people would grasp that because of this, we might have feelings for one another. After all, we have been on the trail together for several weeks. No, I think you are wrong. I think I could make them understand if I were able to talk to them.”
“Think you so?” he asked, and even in the darkness, Anna glimpsed one of his eyebrows rising with doubt. “Remember,” he persisted, “that you are not supposed to love me, and I am certainly not supposed to make love to you. Our two cultures are too greatly opposed for this to be done without problems, I think. And what if one of the children should tell his new parents about how you really came to be traveling with me? No, if I am right about this, I think that even if you tried to talk to these people, before you finished, I would more than likely be hung up from the nearest tree.”
“No, you must know that I would not let that happen.”
He shrugged. “I think that you might not be able to stop it. Do you remember when I told you that my cousin, a chief, once brought a white woman, whom he had ransomed, into a fort? He was hanged with very few questions asked, so I am told. Yet, he had never done damage to the woman.
“No, I have made love to you. I think that this is enough to incite these people to take up arms against me once they start to reason it through.”
“Hmmmm,” she said. “I suppose you could be right.” She glanced away from him and began to put her own clothes back to order, and she asked, “What would you like me to do? Do you think the children whom I have placed into families will be all right?”
“Haahe, I think no harm will come to them. They are white. They are innocent, and the people will look upon themselves as their defenders. But you said there were some who were not taken into families?”
“Yes,” she said. “Patty and Collin. Patty, because she is too thin. I do not think she is well, War Cloud. And Collin because he limps. I think that he was also looked upon as a possible burden to these families.” She added, “Do you have a plan?”
He drew his brows together and frowned. A minute, or perhaps two, ticked by as he lapsed into silence. At length, however, he said, “I think that this is what we should do. Together we will walk back into the camp of the white settlers as though nothing has happened between us. It is then that you should go and awaken Patty and Collin. Once done, we should leave in haste, before anyone has a chance to think twice.”
“Then you don’t believe we should sneak away?”
“I do not. That would only cause the settlers to assume that we have done something wrong. No, we should walk in as though we have every right to be there. And in truth,” he said, as he reached out a hand to smooth back her hair, “we do.”
She made a grab at his fingers when he would have pulled away, and turning her head toward him, encouraged him to comb his fingers through her hair. She said, “That feels good.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “Then I will have to remember to brush your hair every night that we are together. Perhaps, if I do this for you, you will always remember me.”
She turned her face toward him and said, “I will need no such reminder.” She had uttered the words lightly, though only a simpleton would have failed to notice the seriousness underscoring each syllable.
And War Cloud was no ninny. However, he held his own counsel on the matter, though his fingers stilled for the pulse of a second as they trailed through her hair.
After a time, Anna said, “I have one question.”
He nodded.
“If we are to be so open about what we are doing, and there is someone from the camp who might wish us harm, don’t you think they might follow us?”
“It is possible,” he responded with a shrug. “But I do not believe they will try. These white settlers will need their scouts to show them the way through Indian country, and I do not think they will want their few scouts to be gone, following four people who have done them no harm. Besides, a storm is almost upon us and, even if some of these white men do decide to follow us, our trail will most likely be washed away by morning.”
“I see,” she said, taking a deep breath. “But,” she said, persisting, “I still think that these people would more than likely understand if I were to speak to them. I think you might be perfectly safe here.”
He looked sullen as well as thoughtful. He did answer, but only after a slight pause. “You could be right, but I am unwilling to take the chance and stay here until morning.”
And, truth to tell, Anna had to admit, she was inclined to agree with him.
Tilting her head to the side that she might see him better, she said, “Nor am I willing to take that chance either, War Cloud. Not at all.”
She felt a drop of rain on her arm. A flash of lightning, followed by an ominous peal of thunder, more than mirrored her apprehensive mood. They were traveling south and west, she noticed. The only reason she even knew this was because she had gained their direction the previous evening—from the Big Dipper constellation.
They traveled with no more than the one pony—this being for the children. But the weather, the midnight hours, meant nothing to her. Anna had become used to tramping over the prairie with only the light of the moon to guide their way.
But there was not even a moon this night
. Clouds filled the darkened sky.
Collin and Patty rode the pony while Anna guided the animal by its reins. Both of the children were so tired, they slept sitting up in the saddle. Luckily War Cloud kept their pace a little slower than usual, perhaps because of the children.
Scooting up close behind him, Anna asked, “Why do we go south?”
“Because,” he responded, “the wagon train goes north. I do not wish any trouble with them. Besides, not too far from here is Fort St. Vrain, the nearest white settlement. You will probably be able to find someone there to take in the children.”
To take in the children. She froze and then stumbled as the pony pushed her forward. So this was it. Fort St. Vrain was the name of the place that would mean the eventual parting of ways for her and War Cloud.
“Fort St. Vrain?” she asked, catching up to him. “Isn’t that awfully close to Sand Creek, where so much of your trouble started? Perhaps we should find another place. Aren’t the people there fairly prejudiced toward the Indians?”
“It is and they are. But there is no need to find another place. I will not go into the fort with you,” he said. “I will give you the horse, and you and the children will go the rest of the distance without me.”
“I see,” she responded. But she did not understand; not really. Perhaps she never would.
“Fort St. Vrain was not always a place that was prejudiced toward the Cheyenne,” War Cloud clarified.
“Was it not?”
“Hova’ahane, in the early days when Bent’s fort was built for trade with the Cheyenne, Bent’s partner, Ceran St. Vrain, built this fort on the South Platte to trade with the Lakota and the Arapaho as well as the Cheyenne. It was only in later years that it became a fort for the warrior-whites. My father knew St. Vrain well and said he was an honest man.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Did St. Vrain sell the fort to the military, then?”
War Cloud shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “I only know that trade no longer happens there and that the warrior-whites now rule it.”
“Oh,” she uttered, and fell silent. They spoke no more for some time, each perhaps reflecting on his own private thoughts. Another clap of thunder, however, had her commenting, “It looks as though we are walking straight into a storm, and I fear for the children.”
Though she spoke in muted tones, she was certain he had heard her, even though all he said in reply was, “Humph!”
At one time, such a brusque response might have bothered Anna, but it no longer did. Over the past few days with War Cloud, she had come to understand him better, and she knew that the terse rejoinders were simply his way of letting her know he had heard. War Cloud did not consider his manner abrupt.
Anna said, “The children are not well, War Cloud, either of them, and though I know we want to put some distance between us and the settlers’ wagons, if we can, we should seek shelter before the storm hits.”
“Humph!” was once again War Cloud’s answer, but Anna said nothing more. He had heard her; she trusted him to do the right thing.
At last he called over his shoulder, “Up ahead, maybe a mile or two, there are caves. I found them yesterday when I was scouting this area, for I knew that I might need a place to sleep that was far enough away from the settlers’ wagons to be safe. These caves should stay dry and we can sit out the storm there.”
“Good,” she said. Then, as something else occurred to her, she asked, “Your brother, will we go back there for him?”
“He will meet us in a day or two. I sent word to him with the Lakota scouts from the wagon train. He will follow us.”
“That’s good,” she said and lapsed into silence, to collect her thoughts and recall again all that had taken place this evening.
It had been easy to gather up the two children, and it seemed there had been little cause for concern.
True to his plan, Anna and War Cloud had trod back into the midst of the settlers’ camp, War Cloud halting at the edge of the festivities. But Anna had gone on forward, heading directly to where she had left Patty and Collin.
Awakening the children had caused a minor stir, since a few of the women had wanted to know what she was doing and why. But Anna had gone on to explain that because she and War Cloud were to travel at night—due to the danger of wandering war parties—they were leaving camp at once.
Several of those women had offered Anna sympathy for her plight, as well as giving her blankets and food, all of which she had graciously accepted. A few—very few of the women—had stood apart, whispering from behind upraised hands.
But other than that minor difficulty, there had been no trouble.
Anna sighed, deciding that this was one less worry, and she focused her attention upward, to try to gain better bearings from the night sky. But clouds still hid the moon as well as most of the constellations.
She had no idea where they were, could only put her trust in War Cloud, that he would know this terrain. And, of course, he did, at least he knew it better than she.
Anna heard a movement behind her and she glanced back to find Patty awake.
“Miss Wiley,” the youngster called, her voice weak, “are we there yet?”
Anna dropped back to take Patty’s hand in her own. Although she had no idea where “there” was, she said, “Not yet, dear, but soon. Why not go back to sleep? When it is time I will awaken you.”
“All right,” said Patty, and with a gentle pat on her hand, Anna trod forward once more, increasing her pace to reach War Cloud.
She called his name as soon as she came within hearing distance of him. “How long is it before you think we can rest?”
He did not speak at once, and Anna had to stumble quickly forward in order to keep up with him. Following, she awaited his reply, and at length, he said, “Just a little farther. The caves are up ahead of us, and I am trying to get to them as quickly as I can. This storm,” he pointed overhead, “is going to be a violent one, I think.”
“Do you?” she asked. “I have heard the skies grumbling all evening, but it has not amounted to much yet. Do you think this one will be worse than the other storms we have encountered?”
“I do.”
“Why?” she asked. “What makes you think so?”
He pointed toward the midnight sky. “I saw ‘earrings’ on the sun this afternoon. My northern kin say that when this happens in the winter, it is a sign that there will be savage winds and cold weather. But we are in warm weather and maybe it will not be so bad. Still, we should use caution and get to these caves with all possible speed.”
Anna heard what he said, but he had puzzled her and she asked, “Earrings on the sun?”
“Haahe,” he affirmed. “The Blackfeet call them sun dogs; the Shoshone, earrings. They look like fires on each side of the sun. The Lakota say that the sun’s cheeks are afire.”
Anna gazed skyward, as if she forgot for the moment that it was pitch-black outside. Realizing what she was doing, she sent Patty and Collin a concerned look, but both children appeared to be sleeping once more, one leaning on the other as they sat upon the pony.
Anna shivered. It was a strange sensation. One moment she had been warm enough, the next cold. It appeared that the temperature, even as they were walking, had suddenly and unexpectedly dropped. She had read of this sort of thing happening in this part of the country, but never had she thought to experience it.
A drop of ice hit her in the face, suddenly followed by the stinging sensation of several others. Sleet? In the middle of July?
War Cloud rounded on her and said, “The storm is already starting. Do you see those rocks?” He pointed to a cliff ahead of them. “This is the place where we are going. We are almost there. I will run ahead of you to ensure that there are no snakes or bears inside the caves. If it is safe, I will give you a call like this.” He stepped back and, bringing his hands up to his mouth, made a howl that sounded so close to the cry of a wolf, Anna would not have been able to tell the difference. Loweri
ng his hands and stepping back toward her, he said, “When you hear that call, you come.”
“I will,” she said, staring at him earnestly. She added, “You will be careful.”
He sent her an easy grin. “I always am,” he replied. “But I must warn you that it is not a simple climb to that shelter. It is hard enough in the daylight in good conditions. I fear that you and the children might not be able to make the climb easily. Perhaps I can carry one of the children or maybe we should find another spot.”
Anna gave Patty and Collin a quick perusal. She said, “We need shelter now. Do not worry about us. I think that if we can brave flooded rivers, warring Pawnee and murderous soldiers, we can surely dare to climb icy rocks.”
He nodded. “I think that you can do it, too.”
Anna acknowledged him with a brief dip of her head, though she held him back when he would have gone. “War Cloud,” she said and, as he spun around toward her, she brought his hand to her lips, kissing his fingers. She said, “Stay alert.”
“I will,” he affirmed, and he returned her gesture, only he went on to kiss every single one of her fingertips.
Anna caught her breath. No matter the rain, no matter the sleet, no matter the two children who sat a horse behind them, this man set her senses afire.
Raindrops fell onto his face as he glanced at her, but in his eyes she espied a blaze that she knew was matched by an answering light in her own.
However, she simply said, “Do not do battle with bears. And remember that I love you.”
He groaned, a sound so seductive she felt the effects of it all the way to the tips of her toes. But when he spoke, all he said was, “I know,” and then he turned and was gone.
Anna was convinced that she was not the type of person who could easily be left waiting. Especially under these conditions. The sleet was pelting them harder, and even Collin and Patty were starting to complain.
Where was War Cloud? It seemed he had been gone forever.
“What are we waiting for, Miss Wiley?”
Anna had been staring off into the night, at the spot where War Cloud had disappeared. She turned back toward the children and said, “We are waiting for a signal from War Cloud. There is a cave on that hill and he has gone there before us to ensure that there are no snakes or bears hiding there.”