Untamed

by Sharon Ihle

  "She gathers her belongings." He inclined his head toward the loft. "Do not keep her long."

  That sense of camaraderie rapidly fading, she muttered, "Don't worry. I'll see that she doesn't dawdle too much."

  Josie resisted the urge to bury her foot in his backside as he strolled out of the cabin and contented herself instead by kicking the door shut behind him. She wondered if he'd been as abrupt with Sissy when he explained that he'd be taking her back to her life as a whore and got mad all over again as she dug through Daniel's meager pantry for cooking supplies.

  Josie managed to find molasses, sugar, eggs, vinegar, flour, and even cinnamon, which meant that she only lacked one ingredient in order to make her usually delicious molasses cookies—ginger. Figuring the twins already had so much of that particular spice that they wouldn't notice if it was missing from the cookies, she cleaned up the only bowl in the house and began measuring flour.

  She'd just dumped the third cup of 'dumpling dust,' as Daniel referred to it, into the bowl when Sissy came down from the loft and joined her at the counter.

  "What are you cooking up now?" she asked, peeking into the bowl.

  "Cookies for Daniel's little pisspots." Josie wiped her hands on the scrap of linen she used for a towel. "Not that it was my idea."

  "It's right nice of you no matter whose idea it was."

  Turning to her, Josie decided she might as well let Sissy believe that if she wanted to, and then noticed that there were several changes in her friend's appearance. For one thing, Sissy's checks were kind of flushed, not precisely rosy they way her own got, but shiny, as if glowing from within. Her dark eyes, usually so flat and dull, were sparkling with something that hinted at contentment, maybe even fulfillment. Strangest of all, she was smiling. Not simply smiling, but grinning like a big ole jack-o'-lantern.

  "Sissy?" Josie said, unable to fathom this sudden transformation. "What's come over you? You're positively radiant."

  Sissy averted her gaze with a coy little smile that made Josie think of innocence, debutantes and balls, and all the things that had never been a part of either of their lives. What had happened between her and that crazy Cheyenne?

  "Sissy?" Her tone deeper, demanding, Josie finally got her attention. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm better than all right." Again the big grin. "Long Belly wants me to stay on with him. I said I would."

  "You're gonna stay here, on the reservation?" Josie threw her arms around her and squeezed. "Then we'll for sure be seeing each other from time to time."

  "For sure," Sissy agreed, hugging her back. "And as often as the weather permits, I guess."

  Josie had more questions, a full string of them, but those pesky twins rolled through the doorway then, cutting the conversation short.

  Sissy went right to them, her eyes even more brilliant than before, and said, "Hi, fellahs. What's your names?"

  The boys just stared at her, in particular that great tumbleweed of dark brown hair, taking in her unusual skin color and features as if she were some kind of aberration. In these parts, Josie figured that maybe she was. But that didn't make the twins' reaction any less rude.

  "Don't mind them," she said. "They're just gawking at you because they don't know what you said."

  "They cain't speak English?"

  "No," Josie muttered. "And they're not much on manners either."

  Her covetous eyes all over the two young boys, Sissy sighed wistfully. "They look so much alike, I don't know how poor Daniel tells them apart. What are their names?"

  "That one is Hell," Josie said, picking one at random. "And the other's Damnation."

  Sissy turned to her in horror. "Really?"

  "No," Josie said with a laugh. "But those names fit them better than Bang and Two Moons, which don't make a lot of sense either."

  Although she was laughing along with Josie, Sissy scolded her. ``Hell and Damnation aren't very nice names for their new mother to be calling a sweet little pair like this."

  "I'm not their mother, and that's about as nice as I can be considering these sweet little pisspots tried to kill me."

  Sissy cocked her head. "Kill you, princess?"

  "Okay, maim me. They snuck up behind me and threw a spear that could have put out my eye." She looked down at the boys. "That is what you two had in mind, isn't it?"

  When they grinned back at her in that irritatingly smug way, Josie pointed to her eyes, then crossed them and stuck out her tongue. The twins shrieked and ran screaming from the cabin.

  "Oh, no. Here we go again." Josie rolled up her sleeves, preparing for round two.

  "Daniel?" Sissy guessed.

  Josie nodded. "Daniel. He thinks those two are little angels that could never do wrong. If he only had eyes in the back of his head, he'd soon see that what he sired is a couple of ill-bred brats."

  Sissy shook her great head of hair and laughed. "I don't think them boys grate on you nearly as much as you let on, princess. Why cain't you just enjoy 'em a little? They could be a real comfort to you over the winter."

  Josie would have laughed out loud had Daniel not come through the door about then.

  He paused there at the threshold, his skin looking sallow beneath its usual nutmeg hue. His fists were clenched and the muscles of his neck continually flexed as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. His eyes were on fire and bluer than they'd ever been, as startling as periwinkles in the snow. Bad to worse, the little pisspots were clinging to his pant legs as if they were frightened, but their expressions were pure rascal.

  "Sissy," Daniel said tightly. "It's been nice having you as a guest, but I guess you'll be heading out with Long Belly now, right?"

  "Uh, right, Daniel." Like a wooden statue, Sissy turned to Josie, offered a quick hug, and said, "I'll be back to see you soon as I can. Go easy on 'em."

  Looking at her friend in a new light, Josie whispered, "Turncoat. Just wait until you need me to stick up for you someday."

  ''You'll be there," Sissy said, kissing her cheek. "And you'll be there for them boys. I just know it." Then she thanked Daniel for his hospitality and walked out the door.

  The cabin grew deathly silent after Sissy's departure and stayed that way until the sound of hoofbeats could no longer be heard. Then Daniel lit into her, his voice eerily quiet.

  "I wonder if you might tell me the meaning of the word 'pisspot'?"

  A little bell went off inside Josie's brain, a vague but ominous warning. She cleared her throat. "Ah, pisspot? I believe that's pretty much the same as a chamber pot or slop jar, isn't it?"

  "You tell me." Daniel smiled, the expression more of a grimace. "I'm especially interested in learning how a pair of innocent young children could possibly be referred to as clay pots that hold urine."

  Josie gulped. "I, ah, wouldn't know."

  "You wouldn't? Then perhaps you'd like to know how I came by this word in the first place."

  She shrugged and averted her gaze. "Not particularly."

  Daniel told her anyway. "My sons here asked me what it meant. They said that's what you liked to call them when you weren't referring to them by their given names, Hell and Damnation."

  The look Daniel gave her after that shot clean through her the way no spear ever could. It not only hurt, but somewhere deep inside, Josie knew she had it coming. She hadn't tried in the least to be decent to the young boys, even if they were a pair of goblins who sorely needed a good swift kick in the rear.

  With a heartfelt sigh, she said, "I'm sorry, Daniel. Honest. I guess I got off to the wrong foot with your sons, and I'd like to make it up to them. And to you."

  His expression looked forced now, as if he wanted desperately to stay mad at her, but couldn't deny the apology. With a resolute nod, he said, "All right. We'll start over. These are my sons, Two Moons and Bang."

  Josie's hands went to her cheeks. "Oh, Daniel, they're absolutely adorable. How did you ever come up with such unusual names for them?"

  He cocked one eyebrow, an expres
sion she took as a warning, and then went on to explain. "The day they were born, their mother got up for her usual morning walk at sunrise and thought she saw two moons, one in the east and one in the west. She went into labor shortly after that and was taken to the birthing tipi where Two Moons was born and named because of what she'd seen."

  Josie laughed. "And here I thought it had something to do with his being a twin."

  "We didn't even know there were two babies until I celebrated the birth of Two Moons in the usual Cheyenne way." Daniel smiled at the memory. "I fired my rifle to announce his arrival at about the same time a second son put in his surprise appearance."

  "Don't tell me." Josie held up her hands. "I think I understand now. Your gun went bang as the second baby was born?"

  "My gun went bang," he echoed, rubbing the head of the child on the left.

  Josie dropped down on her haunches and studied the boys. To her eye they were as alike as blades of grass. "How do you ever tell them apart?"

  "Just looking, it's easy to get confused, but Bang, oddly enough, is a lot more quiet than his brother,"

  That little bell in her mind rang again as Josie studied the boys. Ignoring it, she asked, "How am I supposed to communicate with them? I don't know a word of Cheyenne."

  "I'm not expecting you to learn a new language." Daniel gave the twins a little shove in her direction. "They're quite capable of making their needs known. Go ahead, boys, let your new ma know that you appreciate her."

  Together they said, "We are happy to meet you, Ma Jofess."

  The "Ma Jofess" threw Josie for a minute, but something else eclipsed even that.

  She looked up at Daniel, incredulous. "They speak English?"

  "Sure. They understand it very well, but their verbal skills are a little rusty. Didn't you know?"

  "No. I sure didn't."

  Two Moons and Bang flashed evil little grins her way, and then the little pisspots turned angelic smiles on their father.

  Cold, hard winter, my ass, thought Josie. It was beginning to look as though she was going to have to survive the next four months in the fires of hell.

  Chapter 19

  They hadn't been but an hour on the trail leading to the reservation camp before the weather turned treacherous for Sissy and Long Belly. When they'd left the cabin, a single cloud rode high in the sky. Now storm clouds stampeded in from the north, surging over the lower ridges and obliterating the higher summits. Cold air settled around Sissy, numbing her fingers and even her toes through the buckskin boots. She burrowed deeper into her buffalo-hide jacket, and urged the mule forward.

  "We gonna make it to the reservation before this storm hits?" she shouted to Long Belly, just ahead on the trail.

  "It is my hope," he called over his shoulder. "I have no wish to sleep in the snow tonight."

  As if prompted by his remarks, a light snow began to fall, swirling around the mule's legs and settling on the ground like wispy clouds. Two hours later, when they should already have reached the camp, they were still plodding through powdery drifts as storm clouds churned above them. Snow began to spiral all around them, sweeping the ground in great, powerful gusts until Sissy could barely make out the spotted rump of the horse in front of her.

  When the paint suddenly came to a halt, the mule crashed into its backside and then shuddered to a stop. Long Belly shouted something as he dismounted, but Sissy couldn't make out the words over the howling wind.

  "What?" she screamed into the blizzard.

  "We are here," he said, coming alongside the mule.

  It wasn't until he'd lifted her off the animal and set her an her feet that Sissy realized that they'd stopped in front of a tipi, an enormous structure almost completely veiled from her eyes by blinding snow. Long Belly hurried her inside the ghostly structure, and then gathered a few scraps of wood by the opening and made a small fire.

  "I must see to the horses now," he said. "And then I will find you a place to sleep tonight. Warm yourself until my return."

  Sissy stopped him as he headed back outside. "Why do you have to find a place for me? Aren't we staying here tonight?"

  His cinnamon skin glistening with melted snow, Long Belly smiled in a most peculiar way as he said, "This is my tipi, the place where I sleep. You will have to stay with my mother or another female relative until we can arrange for the ceremony."

  Explanation enough for him, he started for the flap again. Sissy beat him to the opening. "What ceremony are you talking about, and why cain't I stay with you like before?"

  Long Belly kept that strange smile as he pulled her into his arms and said, "Forgive me, brown woman. I forget you know nothing of my tribe. We honor our women and keep them pure until they are brides. It would not be respectful of you, and my tribesmen would look upon us with contempt if I stayed with you before our wedding ceremony."

  Sissy dismissed everything he said except the words "wedding ceremony." Even then, she wasn't sure she heard him right. "Did you just say that we're getting hitched?"

  "Hitched?" He cocked his head.

  "Hitched," she repeated, almost afraid to use the other term. "Uh, married."

  "That is what the wedding ceremony is for."

  The look Long Belly gave her was new as he paused to make sure she understood, a gaze so intimate and reverent, Sissy simply couldn't imagine that it had anything to do with her.

  "After the ceremony," he went onto say, "we will be given a great wedding feast. I cannot share your bed until this is arranged and done. Do you understand?"

  Sissy understood what he was saying, but not why. When Long Belly had first asked her to come to the reservation with him, she'd assumed they would live together as they had at Daniel's cabin. Never had it occurred to her that he would want her as his wife—or that anyone else would, for that matter. Feeling numb all over, as if she were standing naked in the blizzard, Sissy marveled over the thought, unable to speak.

  Tired of waiting for her to reply, Long Belly put his hands on either side of her head, crushing the springy curls there. "Why do you look so surprised, brown woman? Did I not tell you back at my brother's cabin, that I have a big need to hold you for the rest of my nights?"

  Something bubbled inside her, threatening to boil over. "Sure, it's just that I didn't understand how permanent you was figuring on making it."

  "It is the Cheyenne way," he said with a shrug. "It is my way."

  Sissy swallowed hard, holding the eruption at bay. "I'm gonna have to think on this some, red man," she said, choosing her words with great care. "And it ain't because I'm worried you won't make me a good husband."

  He reared back as if she'd struck him. "You will not marry me?"

  "I ain't said no, but I ain't saying yes until I can think on this some." He still looked so crushed, Sissy did the best she could to explain something she didn't entirely understand herself. "I ain't never had a choice before. I sure never had a chance to decide something big, like what I might want to do with my life. I never even got to choose what I wanted for supper. Marrying you seems like a mighty big decision—the first one I've ever had to make. I don't want to make a mistake my first time out."

  Long Belly nodded, deep in thought. "You will be happy with me, Buffalo Hair. We will be happy together."

  The eruption imminent, Sissy whispered, "I know. Now go on, do what you gotta do, but please don't make me go stay with anyone else tonight—like your ma. I gotta be alone a while so's I can think."

  "You may have my tipi. I will find other lodging." With a brief kiss, Long Belly ducked out through the flap, and then carefully closed it behind him.

  When Sissy was very sure that he was gone and couldn't hear, for the first time since she could remember, she gave herself over to tears. She cried and cried. When she figured she must be about cried out, she cried some more.

  * * *

  Ten days later the weather hadn't changed appreciably. When it wasn't snowing, it was too cold outside to do much of anything except quic
kly take care of whatever business took a body out of the cabin, and then rush back inside for the warmth of the stove. Daniel's little pisspots even took to wearing moccasins, keeping them on whether they were inside or out.

  Josie stared through the frost on the window, wondering how much longer she could stand to be cooped up inside with the little heathens. It seemed like all Bang and Two Moons did was run around the cabin like wild Indians, demand to be fed, or just generally find ways to make Josie's life miserable. The only thing she was grateful for was the fact that her monthlies had arrived this morning, a double-edged sword if ever there was one. She was cramping something awful, her breasts were so swollen and tender that she couldn't even stand the weight of her chemise rubbing against her nipples, and if the twins had looked at her cross-eyed, she probably would have ripped their heads off. But at least she wasn't baking one or, God forbid, two of Daniel's heathen buns in her oven.

  Josie breathed deeply, more sickened than soothed by the usually comforting aroma of spiced molasses. She generally liked the way the house smelled when she was baking up a batch of cookies, but not for days on end. The twins had never had cookies before and were so fond of them, she'd whipped up a batch almost every day for a week now just to shut them up and give them something to do. Like now, she thought, as they came scrambling down the loft from their nap.

  The first twin to reach her slapped a pudgy little hand against her arm. "More cooks, Ma Jofess?"

  She turned toward the child and grabbed his wrist, preventing a second assault on her person. His expression bordered on charming and he'd asked for the cookies, not demanded them.

  Certain she had this child's identity figured out, Josie said, "The word is cookies, Bang. Cooks are the people who make cookies."

  He grinned, not the devilish I-got-you grin the two usually threw her way, but an honest expression of delight.

  "Me am Two Moons," he said, proud to have confused her.

  "You are Two Moons," she corrected, an automatic response from her years of surrogate parenthood.