The Angel and the Warrior

by Karen Kay

  “But—”

  “Can’t be helped.”

  Shielding her eyes against the sun, she glanced up at Julian. “All right, but just tonight?” Truth was, it was probable that if Julian were to be gone, so too would Swift Hawk.

  “It’ll most likely be a few days before we return with any news.”

  News? Oh yes. She had news. Important news. “Jules, I’ve some rather distressing tidings.”

  “Oh?” He gazed at her like he expected a confession, but all he said was, “What is it, Angel?”

  She cleared her throat, glanced quickly at Swift Hawk, then back to Julian. “Well, I’ve come to learn that there’s a Vigilance Committee with this caravan.”

  Julian became suddenly quiet. His face darkened, and he didn’t speak for a good full minute. After a while, he removed his hat and wiped his forehead with his arm. “Who told you that?”

  “Mr. Russell, the wagon master. He came to lecture me about being so ‘friendly’ with the Indians, and warned me that the others do not like my teaching Swift Hawk as I’ve been doing. He mentioned the Vigilance Committee at the same time.”

  Julian shook his head. “Aw, what does he know about lawmen? And about Indians, for that matter? You’ve only been teaching Swift Hawk reading and writing and arithmetic. Isn’t it like Papa said, ‘There isn’t any place in the house of the Lord for prejudice’?”

  Angelia’s heart warmed to her brother, and she beamed at him. Without saying it in words, Julian was letting her know that he would stand by her, no matter what.

  She added, “Mr. Russell is part of the Vigilance Committee.”

  Again Julian shook his head. “Is he? Well, I’m not afraid of him, or them.”

  “I’m not either, Jules. But it does mean that we need to be very careful to whom we speak, and we must make an effort to stay abreast of any news coming into camp, if you know what I mean.”

  Julian nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  “I will too. Oh, and by the way,” Angelia said as nonchalantly as possible, “just so that I know, if you’re going to be gone, does that mean that Swift Hawk and Red Fox will be gone, as well?”

  “Yep,” said Julian, though Angelia could have sworn he winked at her. “We’ll be together.”

  “I see.” Angelia cast a swift glance toward Swift Hawk and spoke to him directly. “What about the lessons we’ve been doing in the evenings? Will you be here for them?”

  “Ah, Angel, those’ll have to wait.” It was Julian answering the question. “We’ve more important things to do, especially now that I know there’s a Vigilance Committee here.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” She reached out to capture his hand, but he pulled back as though this show of affection might label him a sissy, and she ended up coming away with nothing but air. Settling back on the seat, she said, “You and your friends, you be careful now, hear?”

  “Yep, we will, Angel. Thanks for telling me about the committee. I’ll keep watch.” Tipping his hat, Julian reined his horse away from the wagon and galloped off, Red Fox immediately following.

  Swift Hawk lingered behind, his dark eyes staring at Angelia. Neither a smile nor a frown touched his lips, and he said nothing. However, with his eyes, he did adore her.

  Then he nodded, and turning his pony, he sped away.

  Contrary to what Julian had predicted, Swift Hawk came back to camp that very night. He had done it to please her, she knew he had. There he was, under a starlit sky, sitting across the fire from her—along with, of course, Mr. Hudson, his mother and his two children.

  Swift Hawk’s eyes never seemed to leave her. To at least keep up appearances and to protect him, and her, Angelia had purposely dragged out her mathematics textbook. Setting it to the side of her now, she awaited the completion of their evening meal.

  It was soon done, and Mr. Hudson arose, excusing himself, and left, taking his mother with him, since the elderly woman needed to retire early. However, Mr. Hudson had promised to return. Or, to Angelia’s mind, he had threatened to do so.

  Mr. Hudson’s children had remained with Angelia, and they were, at present, sitting quietly by Swift Hawk’s side. Now and again one or the other of them would send Swift Hawk a quick glance, as though they were fascinated with him but were afraid of him at the same time.

  At the moment, Swift Hawk was showing the children how to carve a figure from no more than a piece of wood and a crude knife. Angelia watched too. After a very short time, she picked up the mathematics book and opened it to the right page. “Swift Hawk, it is time for our mathematics lesson.”

  Swift Hawk nodded and, looking up, placed his knife and the piece of wood by his side.

  “Now,” said Angelia, “I want you children to remain here for this, as well. It will serve you well to learn arithmetic.”

  Josh, the sandy-haired boy, became instantly mutinous. He complained, “Aw, I don’t need to learn arithmetic.”

  “Yes, you do,” replied Angelia. “Now, come close.”

  “Naw, I don’t need to learn it, and I won’t, and if you make me, I’ll tell my pa,” threatened Josh.

  Angelia smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but was saved the trouble since Swift Hawk spoke up for her. In a low voice directed toward Josh, he said, “A young man should never speak crossly, nor talk back to his elder. To do so brings dishonor to one’s parents and to one’s relatives.”

  “Ah, Pa don’t care what I say or do.”

  Swift Hawk smiled but held up one finger. “I, too, am an elder to you. And if you ask your father, I think you will find that he does care.”

  “But—”

  Swift Hawk sent the boy a stern yet kindly look. Josh’s eyes grew wide, but he remained silent.

  Meanwhile the young girl, Amy, pushed her hand into Swift Hawk’s and scooted toward him. Innocently, her young eyes smiled up at him, and her voice was high and sweet as she commented, “I like the way you smell. I like Indians.”

  Smell? Angelia almost laughed.

  But Swift Hawk did not. Instead, he smiled down at the girl, squeezed her hand and petted her head. “You are a fine girl, and you were a good help to Miss Angel tonight. Was she not, Miss Angel?”

  “Yes,” said Angelia. “Yes, she was.”

  “You see?” Again he grinned at the girl. “Miss Angel and I both saw and appreciate how much you helped with the meal. Someday, you will make someone a fine wife.”

  Amy sat up a little straighter and glowed with pride, and only moments later she, with the innocent trust of youth, laid her head down on Swift Hawk’s lap. Within a few minutes she was fast asleep.

  He would make a good father. The thought came to Angelia out of nowhere, and as Angelia stared at the young girl who was curled up so naïvely, Angelia knew a sudden desire to have children of her own, children with dark hair and midnight-black eyes.

  Angelia’s gaze met and held Swift Hawk’s. They both smiled at each other, and Angelia knew that they shared the same thought. At once, a tender feeling of camaraderie swept through her.

  But then… No, this would never do.

  Guilt came back to plague her, and her brief happiness disappeared. While she hadn’t exactly decided to end the affair with Swift Hawk, she hadn’t decided to continue it, either. And to smile at him was almost to flirt with him, wasn’t it?

  Taking a deep breath, Angelia turned her eyes from Swift Hawk and tried to summon some self-control.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but just then Josh stretched his arms over his head, yawned and lay down over the buffalo robe that Swift Hawk had set out next to him. In a voice barely over a whisper, Josh said, “Sorry, Miss Angel, if I back talked to ya, but I’ll try to do better. I’ll try and listen now.” He yawned again.

  As soon as his head touched the ground, however, Josh too was asleep.

  Angelia caught Swift Hawk’s eye. Swift Hawk beamed at her, and Angelia glanced away.

  With some internal effort, Angelia wiped the smile from her face
and turned back to Swift Hawk. “Well, Mr. Hawk, it looks as though you might be my only student tonight.”

  He jerked his head gently to the left, a gesture Angelia was coming to recognize as uniquely his. “So it would seem.” He smiled at her anew before glancing down at the two children. When he raised his gaze to hers, his eyes were filled with passion. “Do go on.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  …inasmuch as their hospitality and friendly treatment have fully corroborated my fixed belief that the North American Indian in his primitive state is a high-minded, hospitable and honourable being…

  George Catlin

  Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of North American Indians

  “Yes,” said Angelia nervously, looking at the fire that was burning low between them. Now and again, the wind would catch a spark from the blaze and send it flying toward her. In response, she sat back slightly. “Yes,” she spoke softly. “I will go on with the lesson. After all, it is important. But…”

  “But?”

  She took a deep breath. “Swift Hawk, I think we need to talk first.”

  He acknowledged her with a nod. “Yes, I think so too. There are things about me that you do not know. Important things. But first I will hear your words. I can see that something is troubling you.”

  “All right.” Pulling her shoulders back, Angelia drew in a ragged breath. “Did you hear me tell Julian this afternoon that there is a Vigilance Committee on this wagon train?”

  “Haa’he. I did.”

  “Well, this changes things a little. You see, a Vigilance Committee is a form of law out here, except that no one really knows who they all are. Because of that committee, I think that…well, what I mean to say is that I believe that you and I…that is, that we—”

  “Miss Honeywell.” Like a shot from nowhere came the voice of Mr. Hudson.

  Angelia jumped and noticed a dim outline of a form, there in the dark. A form she assumed was Mr. Hudson. Had he heard what she’d said?

  And did it matter if he had? She hadn’t really said anything that could be used against her, had she?

  Still, Angelia nervously bit down on her lip before speaking. “Yes, Mr. Hudson? Is that you there in the shadows?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

  “Very good. Well, as you can see, I’m still here by the fire. Did you wish something?”

  “Ah…no,” said the man. “Nothing in particular. I see that you are instructing my children with your lessons, as well as this…ah…Injun.”

  Staring up at the thin, balding man who had stepped closer to the fire, she grimaced. Politely, she pasted a smile to her face. “Yes, I am trying to teach them, although I’m afraid that if you look closely, you will see that, in truth, I have put your children to sleep.” Tearing her eyes from Mr. Hudson, she sent a short look to Swift Hawk, and noticing that his eyes were narrowed at the man, she added, “Mr. Hudson, have you been formally introduced to Mr. Hawk? There was barely time over dinner to do so.”

  “No,” said Mr. Hudson, “and—”

  “Then let me make the introductions,” Angelia suggested brightly. “Mr. Hudson, this is Swift Hawk, one of the wagon train’s scouts.” She gestured between the two men. “Mr. Swift Hawk, this is Mr. Hudson, who has kindly offered me his protection from…hostile sources…during our journey to Santa Fe.”

  Not a flicker of an eyelash gave away Swift Hawk’s thoughts, whether good or bad. He only nodded to Angelia.

  Mr. Hudson, on the other hand, seemed disinclined to show even a minimum of civility. “Mr. Hawk, I’d have thought you would have conquered the concept of simple mathematics long ago. How many lessons have you had now?” There was no disguising the hostility in Mr. Hudson’s voice. The fire illuminated the man’s face in reds and oranges as he added, “It seems that you have also charmed my children. I wonder if you did it as easily as you have charmed Miss Honeywell.”

  “Mr. Hudson!” It was Angelia speaking. “Like you, Mr. Hawk is here at my invitation. He is a friend of my brother’s, which makes him a friend of mine.” She didn’t say more, though she could have, and she hoped that further explanation would not be needed. “Now if that is settled, would you care to be seated while I finish the lesson?”

  He did so, placing his shotgun over his legs, his gaze affixed to Swift Hawk’s.

  “Thank you.” Angelia had no choice but to ignore the tension, and placing a finger on the page in front of her, she said, “I believe that we should go over, once again, the definition of division. By division we mean to break something down into parts, and to distribute those parts evenly. For instance if I had four plums and I wanted to divide them equally between two people, I would give one person two plums and the other person two plums. Do you see this?”

  Swift Hawk’s nod was stiff.

  “Now,” she continued, “not always can one distribute something equally, and so when that happens we use another system that is…” Her voice droned on and on, while Angelia’s thoughts ran riot. What was Mr. Hudson doing here, really? Why was he acting so antagonistically? Was he part of the Vigilance Committee?

  Was that why he had volunteered to watch over her? Did he suspect her? Julian?

  Or did he have other motives? Did he have marriage in mind? Was he looking for a mother for his children?

  More than aware that she trembled, Angelia forgot what she was saying, and she paused midsentence. Delicately, she cleared her throat and gazed down at the mathematics book to find her place. So intent was she upon that book, she was almost startled when she heard a deep voice say, “But simply giving two different people two of the four objects, does not make them equal.”

  Oh no. Not another of Swift Hawk’s observation on mathematics. Not now, not here, with Mr. Hudson staring at them. To divert the question, or perhaps to give herself time to think, she found herself saying, “It really doesn’t matter if they’re equal, because—”

  “But it does matter,” Swift Hawk countered. Looking up at him, Angelia could detect no emotion on his countenance, save his eyes, which had narrowed to mere slits. Though he talked to her, he stared at Mr. Hudson. “In all of nature, nothing is equal to another. Let us say you have four ponies. Three are strong, good ponies. One is weak. But you have two boys, and you do not want to make one boy jealous of the other. How then do you divide these horses equally? From what you say, I would give each of them two ponies. But if I do this, will not one boy have two strong ponies, and the other have only one? Would not a better way be to give each of them one? Then you have divided them equally.”

  “What a stupid question,” grunted Mr. Hudson.

  Stupid?

  Angelia’s chin shot into the air, and she turned toward Mr. Hudson. Schooling her voice into an even, calm tone, she said, “There is no such thing as a stupid question, Mr. Hudson. Now, please, no more comments. Let me teach.”

  The man said nothing, did nothing, and in his look, he challenged her too. After a few tense moments, he nodded.

  Angelia let out her breath, and turning back toward Swift Hawk, she addressed him and only him. “Yes, you are right, that would be a better way. But we are not talking about anything specific when we speak of most problems in arithmetic. When we do these studies, we are talking about a mythical world—for the purposes of learning, and in this mythical world, all four of your ponies would be the same.”

  Swift Hawk’s gaze came back to her, and he grinned. “Such a place does not exist.”

  Angelia took a short, quick breath, and started to defend herself and the subject, then stopped, mouth open. Closing her lips, she said, “Again, you are right. But for the design of my teaching here tonight, let us pretend such a place does exist, that all four ponies are the same.”

  “Ah, we are pretending, then?”

  “Yes, we are pretending.”

  “That is good.” He pushed out his chin. “I think this pretend world might be a better world too. Haa’he, it is a good world where all a
nimals, men included, are equal. Do you not agree?”

  “Yes. Fine,” she clipped out. What was the man trying to do, purposely antagonize Mr. Hudson? Frankly, from her view of it, Mr. Hudson needed no such prompting. Breathing out a noisy sigh, she voiced, “Shall we go on with the lesson, then?”

  But Swift Hawk was not to be roused to anger. He merely grinned at her. “By all means. Do.”

  She continued, and just as before, the lesson droned on and on, hardly interesting, until even Angelia was bored with it after a while. However, Swift Hawk did not seem bored.

  No. In fact, he was looking at her as though every word out of her mouth were pure gold.

  Soon, she heard a snore beside her, and glancing off to her right, she saw that Mr. Hudson, like his children, was fast asleep.

  It was a welcome moment, and Swift Hawk took instant advantage of it, his gaze roaming and lingering over every inch of her. In truth, with his eyes, he made love to her.

  Angelia responded to that look, basking in the glow of his admiration. How could any woman not? Dazedly, she smiled back at him, wishing that tonight were only the beginning of the rest of their lives.

  But it was not, she thought on a more sober note. Angelia sat up a little straighter, wiping the grin from her face.

  Although she was reluctant to admit it, Mr. Hudson had validated a decision she had been debating. She would end anything that had been started between herself and Swift Hawk.

  Perhaps in the weeks to come, she would be able to glean a moment alone with Swift Hawk and tell him what she must. Or perhaps she would just ignore him.

  No, that would never do. The man had saved her life. She owed him at least an explanation.

  Wait!

  That was it. He had saved her life. A life for a life. And she had given back what she could that was hers to give, her innocence.

  What if she were to say, We are even now, as though to spurn him? Luckily for her, she had spoken similar words to him at the time.