When he noticed she was staring back at him, Robert shook his head and smiled. “I just can’t get over how much you look like Mother,” he said, still shaking his head.
“Tell me something about her—and Father and all the others, too,” Meadow asked in a soft voice, knowing that this would probably be the only chance she would ever have to learn about any of them. She leaned forward so that she could see her brother’s face more clearly in the flickering firelight. He had removed his gray army hat, and his blond, wavy hair hung softly over the side of his forehead. His thin face was accented by a straight nose and full mouth. There was a barely noticeable stubble of light-colored growth on his chin and above his upper lip. As she watched him reclining back against his bedroll with his long muscled legs stretched out in front of him, she realized her brother was a very handsome man.
“And how about telling me something about you, too. Is there a wife, children?” she asked.
This brought another smile to Robert’s usually stern expression. “Nope, neither. I guess you could say I’m married to my career.” Noticing the confused look on his sister’s face, Robert quickly added, “I mean that I’ve just never gotten around to looking for a wife, I guess. How about you—?” He stopped and clenched his jaw.
His abrupt change of attitude reminded Meadow of his intense hatred of the Sioux and that she had to be careful what she said around him. To her relief, Robert changed the subject back to their parents and siblings.
“I really wish you could have known our parents, Mary. They were such good people—proud, too. I don’t think Dad ever missed a day of work in his entire life when we were back East. He owned a livery stable outside of Boston, and he worked hard to make ends meet so that none of us would ever want for anything.” A faraway expression settled on Robert’s face as he continued. “We didn’t live high on the hog or anything, but we sure ate good, and we had nice clothes to wear to school. I never once felt deprived.”
In her mind, Meadow could see the man her brother spoke of as clearly as if she had always known him: a proud, strong adventurer who had thrown caution to the wind to carve out a new life for his family in the Wild West. How tragic that his dream had ended so horribly. Meadow pushed the thoughts of her family’s deaths to the back of her mind. She was not ready to think about any of those things, yet.
“What was our mother like?” Meadow asked as she scooted closer to Robert.
Robert smiled again. “Mother,” he said slowly. “Mom was so beautiful—just like you. She was just a tiny thing, too, like you,” he added as he pointed his finger teasingly at her. “And she could cook like nobody’s business. I remember Sunday dinners after church…” Robert closed his eyes, envisioning those happy family times so long ago.
“There’d be fried chicken, mashed taters, this thick white gravy and the best biscuits you ever ate.” He motioned toward the leftover biscuits from dinner. “Those are like eatin’ rocks compared to Ma’s biscuits. Randy, one of our brothers, could pack away a dozen or more at one sitting. And then she would bring out the most perfect apple pie or this dark chocolate cake with sweet brown frosting.” Robert paused as his face took on a look of joy.
Meadow stared at the man before her, amazed at the way he had transformed into a little boy right before her eyes as he talked about his cherished childhood memories—memories that seemed so foreign to her. It was almost inconceivable that she had once been part of the life he spoke of now.
Robert laughed as he recalled one incident from the past. “I remember once when you were just a baby, maybe no more than a year old or so. Ma had set one of those delicious cakes down on the picnic table where you had been tied into this tall chair so that you wouldn’t fall out. She didn’t realize that she had put that darn cake within your reach, and the next thing we knew, you had both your chubby little paws right in the middle of that cake. Before Ma could move it away, you had chocolate cake and frosting smeared all over your face and in that wild mass of curly blonde hair that you used to have.” Robert chuckled with the memory.
Meadow joined in his laughter as she envisioned a little girl covered in chocolate. The image of her as a happy toddler surrounded by her mother, father and siblings was so new to Meadow, yet it was becoming easier for her to picture in her mind. A feeling of sadness suddenly intruded into Meadow’s merriment as her laughter began to fade. Thinking about her real family somehow made her feel like a traitor to her adoptive Indian family.
“Mary, is something wrong?” Robert asked as he noticed the change in her attitude. When she shrugged in response to his question and avoided looking directly at him, he continued, “I suppose it is hard to hear about a life and a family that you don’t remember, but Mary, that is why it is so important for you to realize just how much was stolen from you because of those savages.”
Once again, Meadow heard the hatred in his voice and saw in his face just how deeply he had been affected by the past. She swallowed hard and tried to imagine just how drastically Robert’s life must have changed after the attack on their wagon train. Everything and everyone involved in the life he had led up to that point vanished that one tragic day.
Meadow reached out and tenderly wrapped her hands around one of her brother’s clenched fists. His hand instantly began to relax in hers as their gazes met. Meadow saw a smile softly touch the corners of his lips once again, and instinctively she smiled back. Inside, her heart felt as if it were being torn apart. She knew the kinship they had just discovered would be short-lived, because once her brother discovered that she had returned to the Sioux to be with the man she loved with all of her heart, he would hate her as much as he hated all Indians.
“Robert,” Meadow said in a gentle voice. “Until a few days ago, I did not know of your existence. And because I was so young when I was taken by the Sioux, I never knew of the life I had lived with my real family. The Sioux couple who took me into their home treated me as if I was their own daughter and raised me with kindness and love.” Meadow felt Robert’s hand begin to tighten back into a fist and she knew her next words had to be chosen with great care. “Hearing you talk about our parents and siblings adds a whole new perspective to everything I’ve ever known and makes me feel so sorry that I don’t have the sweet memories of those days when we were all together.”
Robert exhaled heavily and slowly pulled his hand away from Meadow’s grip. “I realize that you had no other choice but to become a part of the tribe that kidnapped you.” He leaned forward again, yet refrained from taking her hand again. “But what I don’t understand is—now that you know what happened to us—how you can still have any compassion for those heathens.”
The tone of his voice held no sympathy, and it caused a sinking feeling to work its way through Meadow’s body. She knew she could never hope to make him understand her devotion to her adoptive people or her overpowering love for Black Horse. “I feel torn between two different worlds, and I don’t know how I am supposed to feel anymore. In my heart”—she raised her hand to her chest as she talked—“I am so sad for all the memories I do not have of you and the rest of our family, and I know that there is nothing that will ever fill that deep hole of sadness. But the memories I do have are of being loved and protected and—”
“Stop it!” Robert cut in sharply. He threw his hands over his ears in a childish gesture. As he rose up to his feet, he added, “I never want to hear you talk about those animals again. The years you spent with them are in the past, and from now on all that matters is wiping those memories away completely.” The anger in his voice faded slightly as he added, “I will help you to forget. Now, let’s get some shut-eye so that we can head out at first light.”
Meadow attempted to keep the trembling out of her voice as she said, “Good night, Robert, and thank you for never giving up on me.”
The sunlight had almost faded completely away, and only the small glow from the campfire lit the area, but Meadow could see the tender expression that touched her brother�
��s face before he turned away. Meadow pulled her legs up against her body and hugged them closely in her arms as she watched the last of the flames sink into the glowing orange embers in the circle of rocks.
Today had been a day of such contrasts, partly filled with overwhelming joy at seeing that Black Horse was still alive, yet also with such deep sorrow because of the way he had looked at her. Then, hearing about events of her distant past had evoked a deep sense of melancholy. In many ways it was easier to not know anything about the life she had once lived among her real family.
The dying embers began to blur before Meadow’s eyes, and for a brief instant she allowed her lids to close down over her pupils. As it had been almost every night since last fall, the pictures in her subconscious mind were once again filled with only one face and one memory—Black Horse. Meadow’s entire body still yearned for Black Horse’s touch, and there was not one minute detail of their one night of lovemaking that she could not recall.
Finally, she was forced to open her eyes and face the fact that she had only been dreaming—again. How could it feel so real? Her skin was still tingling with the imagined feel of Black Horse’s embraces, and her lips felt as if they were pulsating from his demanding kisses. The urgency that filled her was mixed with fear and excitement, now that she knew these feelings would be a reality again soon. The cold look on Black Horse’s face this morning passed before her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to wipe the image away. She would prove her love to him once she had figured out a way to get him away from Fort Keogh.
The silence surrounding her made Meadow aware that she was the only one still awake. Her brother and the two soldiers accompanying them were all snoring softly in their bedrolls. Meadow made her way to her own bedroll as quietly as possible and then rolled an extra blanket up and stuffed it into the center of the flat bedroll. She attempted to make the blanket look like a body, but it was a hopeless task. The best she could hope for was that none of the men would wake up before morning and discover that she was no longer here. As she rose up to her feet again, Meadow looked longingly at the bedroll with the little lump in the middle of it. How she wished she could take the heavy blanket and the bedroll with her for the nights she would be sleeping on the hard ground until she was back in the soft furs of her and Black Horse’s tepee. At least she still had her white blanket to ward off the cold. She grabbed several biscuits that were left over from dinner and remembered the story Robert had told her about their mother’s biscuits. She glanced back in his direction one last time and blinked back tears.
The horses had been hobbled a short distance from the campsite, and to Meadow’s relief they did not whinny or startle when she approached them. It was easy to lead the palomino she had ridden earlier today away from the others after she had untied him from the stake in the ground.
She led the horse away from the camp and did not attempt to put a halter on him or mount him until she was at least a quarter mile from the camp. Then, she swung up onto his bare back and gently nudged him in the sides with her knees. The horse fell into an easy gait, and before long, Meadow felt confident that she had made a clean getaway. There was only a half-circle moon overhead, but it provided enough light to guide the horse and rider along their way, and they only stopped occasionally in the night to rest or get a drink of water when they encountered a pond or stream.
Meadow’s plan was simple. Somehow she would break Black Horse out of Fort Keogh. The details were just not clear to her, yet. But as the first gray haze of dawn broke over the eastern horizon while she paused to allow the horse to drink out of a trickling creek, it came to her. She knew now what she had to do and where she must go.
Chapter Twenty-two
Meadow had lost track of how long she had been traveling as the days and nights faded together. The summer heat consumed what little energy she had left, and the lonely nights had almost drained her of the will to go on. But her dream was strong enough to push her forward.
She had not observed anyone following her. When Robert had discovered that she was gone, Meadow was certain that he had been so filled with disgust that he had probably disowned her on the spot. She was grateful to him for the chance to learn about her real family, but it did not change her destiny. Her future had been determined on that autumn day over fifteen years ago.
Although Meadow was sure she was not lost and was still traveling in the right direction, there were times when she became disoriented. The dense forests would always seem strange to her, but they offered camouflage and shelter, and she remained confident that she could find the Sioux encampment once again.
By the fourth day, Meadow was beginning to think she might starve to death if she didn’t reach the village soon. She had eaten nothing more than the few hard biscuits she had taken, and they were already gone.
Her confidence in her fishing skills diminished the moment she attempted to catch a trout out of a creek teeming with fish. After numerous attempts, she never even came close to touching one of the slippery little devils, let alone actually catching one with her bare hands. She had seen many rabbits and a few white-tailed deer, but without any sort of a weapon other than a branch, it was useless to attempt to chase after them. Meadow constantly made mental notes of the necessities she would need to pack on her return trip to Fort Keogh. Of course, it was not her plan to travel alone on her next trip.
Exhausted, starving and feeling as if she would never again see her dearly beloved Sioux village again, Meadow knew that Wakan Tanka must be watching over her when she scented campfire smoke. For most of the day, she had thought that this portion of forest seemed familiar, but at other times, all of the countryside looked the same.
The smell of smoke guided Meadow back to her adoptive people by late afternoon. As she dug into a hearty meal of Sings Like Sparrow’s pheasant stew, she began to tell them all what she had seen at Fort Keogh.
“Are you certain it was him?” Walks Tall asked in a skeptical tone. “Were you even close enough to see his face?”
She nodded her head vigorously. “I was close enough to reach out and touch him. Without a doubt, it was Black Horse. He looked ill. He needs our help soon, before it’s too late.” Walks Tall stared at Meadow’s face as he contemplated this unexpected news. “I thought it was already too late for my blood brother, but if he is still alive, I will do everything in my power to help him.”
Meadow exhaled with relief. “We must have a good plan. The prisoners at Fort Keogh are so well guarded that in the time I had spent there, I never even glimpsed any of them until that last day, as I was leaving. It was just as the sun was rising, so I would guess that they are only allowed out of the barricade briefly when everyone else is still sleeping.”
Walks Tall rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That is when we will plan to break him out. We just have to figure out a way to get into the fort without being noticed.” He looked at Meadow. “But you know the layout of the fort. That should be all the information we will need.”
His familiar smile warmed Meadow’s heart and a wide smile parted her lips as their gazes met. “The entire time I was there, I was trying to figure out a way to get in to see who was in that barricade. I know exactly where it is located.” The Sioux words rolled easily from her mouth again.
The soft deer-hide dress she wore had never felt so good against her skin, and her feet were still celebrating their return to the comfortable moccasins. Two short braids hung over her shoulders, tied with long strips of leather. A black headband encircled her head. But of all the things she was grateful for again, the most important was the way she had been accepted back into the tribe. Even Sitting Bull had taken the time to stop by Sings Like Sparrow and Gentle Water’s tepee to welcome her back to the village. The great chief had said that her time with the whites had given her a chance to find where her true heart was, and now that she had chosen to return to the tribe, they would never ask her to make that choice again. It was at that moment she knew she had returned for good.
&
nbsp; As they sat around the campfire digesting their meal, Meadow and Walks Tall continued to discuss a way to get into Fort Keogh. Gentle Water had taken her grandmother in to get ready for bed, and as she exited the tepee, Meadow noticed that she smiled shyly at Walks Tall and then quickly looked away when he smiled back at her.
Meadow glanced back and forth between her friend and Walks Tall, but they would not look at one another again, and they both avoided looking in her direction, too. After an uneasy silence, Meadow spoke. “When Walks Tall and I return from Fort Keogh with Black Horse, maybe we will finally have that long overdue wedding.”
“Maybe two weddings,” Walks Tall blurted out. He glanced at Gentle Water’s confused expression, sure that she had not caught on to what he had just implied. Meadow, however, was giggling like a little girl as her gaze once again flitted back and forth from the warrior to her friend.
“Yes, two weddings is twice the celebration, and our people need to celebrate as much as possible,” Meadow said. She draped her arm around Gentle Water and hugged her, even though it was apparent that the other girl was still trying to decipher Walks Tall’s unexpected comment.
“Well, first we need to get Black Horse out of that fort,” Walks Tall said, returning to the important task awaiting them. He was almost afraid to believe that his lifelong friend was really still alive. He had no doubt of Meadow’s undying love for the chief, and he knew that she would do anything to be with him again, but she was not a crazy woman who would make up visions in her head. No, he had been wrong about Black Horse’s death, and he would be eternally grateful that he had been mistaken.
“I want to help,” Gentle Water offered. She entwined her arm through Meadow’s arm and glanced at Walks Tall out of the side of her eye. “I am going with you when you go to the fort to get Black Horse.”
Black Horse Page 20