Wolf groaned inwardly. Every passing day it became harder not to touch Cante Tinza. She was blossoming before his very eyes, gaining new confidence in herself, and becoming more spontaneous. He squeezed her fingers gently in response. “You thank me with your presence, Cante Tinza. You are a gift to me. Never forget that. I will see you at dusk.”
Unwillingly, Serena released his fingers. “Yes, tonight….”
* * *
“Look at her,” Deer Woman muttered angrily as she sat outside her parents’ tepee at dusk. Swift Elk stood next to her with his courting blanket, but she would not allow him to cover her and him with it. “Now, she has a wolf pup!”
“Tall Crane gave it to her,” Swift Elk said as he stood beside her.
Deer Woman’s heart hurt. She had never recovered fully from Black Wolf’s sending her away. She refused to have anything to do with the red-haired wasicun. If she had to pick berries, she would go with a second group of Lakota women. If they were bathing at the river or stream, Deer Woman refused to be in the water with Cante Tinza. At all costs, she avoided being with the woman who had Black Wolf’s attention and heart.
“She has cast a spell on him,” she muttered angrily. “I’ll wager she has put elk medicine in his food time and again, and that is why he follows her around like that wolf pup of hers! Both tag along at her heels with their tongues hanging out!”
Chuckling, Swift Elk said, “Let us talk of more important things. Will you go with me for a walk this evening?”
Pouting, Deer Woman glanced up at the youth. Swift Elk was a hunter by nature, not a warrior. She wanted a warrior like Black Wolf, a man of stature, not a youth who had yet to prove himself in battle. Swift Elk wore no eagle feathers in his hair, which was an honor given to those who had counted coup against the enemy.
“No, I want to watch the wasicun and her wolf.”
“That wolf is very protective of her,” Swift Elk warned. “Once, I approached their tepee, and she came leaping out the entrance and crouched, her teeth bared, snarling.”
“That wolf reflects the wasicun, only she is more subtle than the animal. But she does not fool me. She sneaks around like that wolf of hers.”
“The elders praise Cante Tinza,” Swift Elk reminded her. “Did she not save Strong Fox, Chief Badger Mouth’s wife?”
“Pah! Strong Fox ate too much, that is all. She vomited up all her food. The wasicun ran over with a medicine given to her by Black Wolf. He saved her.”
“Black Wolf was with the band of warriors that was gone for a week at that time. No, Cante Tinza knew what to do, and she saved the chief’s wife.”
“Yes,” Deer Woman cried, leaping to her feet, “from vomiting. That is all! Even you make her out to be something sacred, and she is not! She is just a woman like me!”
Swift Elk quickly lowered his head. “I do not mean to make you angry, Deer Woman.”
Glaring at the youth, she whispered fiercely under her breath, “Everywhere there is talk of her having power. Power! Pah! Black Wolf has taught her everything she knows. She mimics, that’s all.”
“Still,” Swift Elk persisted more gently, “no one else has ever gentled a wolf, nor had a wolf follow them around as this one follows Cante Tinza. That is powerful medicine, you must admit, Deer Woman. That wolf could have left her at any time, but she does not. She goes everywhere with her. Just two weeks ago, when the Crow were stalking us, wasn’t it her wolf that alerted us to their presence? It wasn’t our dogs, but Cante Tinza’s wolf who howled the warning.”
With an exasperated sound, Deer Woman stalked off. Her heart was beating with such fury that she knew she must leave the village for a while. It was dusk, and Father Sun had just set. It was the tenth moon of the year, and all the trees had lost their leaves in preparation for the coming winter. The Lakota had just returned to their winter location by following the Dried Willows constellation in the sky. The village now sat near a small river thick with willows and bulrushes. Deer Woman walked to the water’s edge.
The bulrushes were dried and brown, cracking and moving in the chilly breeze. She could feel the first snow of the season in the air and realized that the sky above had turned cloudy. In her heart, she worried for Black Wolf, who had left a week ago to ride with the warriors to chase off the Crow, who were foraging deeply into their territory once again. Word had spread that the miners had paid the Crow to harass the Lakota into leaving the gold-filled Paha Sapa. She would die if anything happened to Black Wolf. Sitting down on a gray rock near the river, she closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her heart. How could this wasicun have captured her people’s heart? Everyone, with few exceptions, loved the woman.
Why couldn’t they speak of her, Deer Woman, in such glowing terms? Opening her eyes, she glared out across the quiet ribbon of water flowing in front of her. She didn’t possess fiery red hair or pale skin. All the women liked to touch Cante Tinza’s hair because of its color and unusual texture. They also touched the brown spots across her cheek and nose, and decided that she was like the spotted tree, the Appaloosa, of the Nez Percé people.
It hurt Deer Woman to know that each morning before the wasicun left to go with the women for the day, Black Wolf would smear her cheeks, nose and brow with a herb-and-bear-grease mixture to prevent her white skin from being sunburned! Of course, Deer Woman refused to acknowledge that every good Lakota husband did the same for his wife each morning. That, and they combed and braided each other’s hair. Jealously, she wondered if Black Wolf and Cante Tinza shared that, too.
Tongues wagged constantly in the village about Cante Tinza and Black Wolf. Would they marry? It seemed only a matter of time, the old women had agreed when they tanned buffalo hides earlier in the year. Among the warriors, Tall Crane longed to court Cante Tinza, but he held off. Why? Two other warriors, both good men who had lost their wives to the miners’ attack two years ago, also wanted to court Cante Tinza. They had talked among themselves, but neither was quite sure of Black Wolf’s intentions toward the wasicun. No one knew if they shared the same robe at night or not. And, of course, no one would ask, because that was considered rude.
Deer Woman fumed over the question. Knowing how honorable Black Wolf was, he would never share his robe with Cante Tinza unless he officially announced to the village that he wanted her as his wife! The whole village talked of that possibility. Now that Strong Fox had been cured by Cante Tinza, she wanted her son, Short Bull, the next chief, to begin openly courting the wasicun.
Knotting her small fists in the lap of her elkskin dress, Deer Woman sat there trying to plan how the wasicun could be taken away from Black Wolf so that she could have him for herself. Several ideas formed in her mind. She would go to Short Bull, who was a young, impetuous warrior, and full of himself. She would whisper in his ear that Cante Tinza liked him. It was a lie, of course, but Short Bull wouldn’t know. Then she would go tell the other two warriors the same thing. A smile formed on her lips. Deer Woman could hardly wait to see Black Wolf’s face when the three warriors scratched at the door of his tepee with their courting blankets over their arms, asking for the wasicun to come out and speak with them! Oh, the excitement that would create! Deer Woman knew that the war party would be coming back very shortly, and when they did, she would spring her plan into action.
* * *
Kagi lifted her head where she lay near the fire in the tepee. Her ears were pricked forward, and her attention was focused on something going on outside. Serena glanced at the wolf as she changed Dawn Sky’s diaper. Whining, Kagi got to her feet, wagging her brushlike tail.
“What is it?“ Serena demanded.
The wolf looked over at her and then trotted to the entrance flap to be let out. Children’s voices drifted through the camp and Serena gasped. Had the war party returned? She picked up the baby and went to the entrance. Instantly, Kagi leaped out and disappeared.
“They’re coming! They’re coming!” the old village crier, Lame Dog, proclaimed. “The war party is ho
me!” His high, piercing voice rolled through the village with the announcement.
Wolf was coming home! Or was he? Anxiety shot through Serena as she placed Dawn Sky back into her cradleboard. For a quarter of a moon, Serena had worried about Wolf’s safety. War parties were dangerous, according to Little Swallow, and many times men were killed. All of the wives waited in silent terror until the returning war party was spotted by the village crier.
The first snow of the year had fallen the night before, and Serena had to keep the fire in the pit burning more brightly to rid the tepee of the chill.
Despite the joy proclaiming the warriors’ return, Serena didn’t feel right. She’d had terrible nightmares the past three nights and was uneasy. Had something happened to Wolf? Worry blotted out any happiness from the prospect of seeing him as she quickly slipped outside into the icy dawn air. Everyone, it seemed, was coming out of the tepees to greet the warriors. Women and children stood in clumps, all facing west. Serena moved away from the tepee and saw fifteen warriors riding over the hill into the valley where they camped.
As the warriors drew near, Serena’s blood turned cold. She recognized a number of Lakota warriors riding with their heads down on their horses’ necks—a sign that they were wounded. Biting her lower lip, she searched frantically for Wiyaka, Wolf’s black horse. Her heart took off in painfully rapid beat as she finally spotted Wolf near the rear of the group. Kagi was at his side, leaping happily and racing around the mare. Something was wrong. Wolf was not sitting on his mare properly. Was he wounded?
All Serena could do was stand and wait just as the rest of the Lakota women, children and elders had to do. It was anguish to wait another half hour before the group finally entered the village. Youths rode out to greet them, yipping and giving victorious yells of welcome. The boys trailed behind the warriors, waving their weapons and calling to them. The horses of the war party were tired, dragging their feet through the snow and hanging their heads. Their long, thick winter coats were twisted and matted from sweat, and then frozen that way.
Serena waited impatiently at the tepee because there was no sense in joining the ever growing group of children and wives. There were wounded, and her services would be needed shortly. Clasping her hands to her breast, she caught her first good glimpse of Wolf as he split away from the group and headed his weary mare in her direction.
“No!” Serena cried, pressing her hand to her mouth. Wolf had a buffalo robe over his shoulders to protect him from the snow and cold, but she saw the rust color of blood stained upon his buckskin shirt near his right shoulder and collarbone. His face was grim and tight, and as he drew close, she saw his mouth set against pain.
“Wolf!”
He drew Wiyaka to a halt at the tepee and gave Cante Tinza a tired smile. “You are bright sunlight to my dark days without you, Cante Tinza,” he said to her wearily, holding out his hand to her. She flew to his side, her arms stretched toward him, panic in her face. As her hands touched his thigh and arm, he tried to smile, but it was impossible.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered brokenly, looking at the blood stain on his shirt as he allowed the robe to fall off his shoulders.
He gripped her cold fingers. “I will live,” he soothed. “Come, help me. I have lost much blood, and I do not know if I can stand.”
Serena clamped down on her worry. She watched Wolf move with great pain as he tried to slide off the mare. Serena placed her arm around his waist and felt his arm fall around her shoulder. Wolf was weak, and he leaned heavily on her.
“Come,” she whispered, “let’s get inside. I can care for you there.”
“No,” Wolf said, fighting the weakness that threatened to bring him to his knees. “There are others who need your care more than I, Cante Tinza. Take the medicines and go to them. If I can lie down, I will be fine until your return. I need sleep more than anything.”
Once inside the tepee, Serena made Wolf comfortable. She pulled off the bloodstained shirt and choked back a cry. An arrow had lodged in his right shoulder, and although Wolf had pulled it out, the gaping wound needed tending.
“Oh, Wolf,” she cried. “What happened?”
He gripped her hand. “Cante Tinza, go help the other warriors. There are three. As a healer, you must tend to the worst first. Go, woman. I will not die on you.”
Shakily, Serena got to her feet. She covered Wolf with a robe. “I—I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Closing his eyes, Wolf nodded. “I am home now. I am with you. That is all I need to get well.”
His words haunted Serena. But somehow, she put her anxiety for Wolf behind her. She moved from one tepee to another to care for the warriors who had been hurt by the Crow.
It was nearly noon by the time Serena ran back to Wolf’s tepee. Inside, the tepee was warm. Dawn Sky had just been fed and was now sleeping peacefully in her cradleboard. Anxiously, Serena’s gaze moved to Wolf, who slept deeply beneath the robe. She knew what had to be done to help his wound heal without infection. It was a puncture wound and it had to be kept open so that it could drain. Moving as quietly as she could, because she knew the warriors had ridden for two days and nights without any rest, she pulled out several buffalo bladders that contained medicine used primarily for arrow wounds. Then she heated water in a small iron kettle.
Wolf roused himself as he felt the robe being pulled away from his chest. Through his short, black lashes he saw the anxiety and tension in Cante Tinza’s face as she knelt at his side. She gently touched the area of his wound to test its temperature. Heat would mean it was infected. He weakly raised his left hand and slid his fingers across one of her thick braids.
“I dreamed of your hair—of you,” he told her in a low voice, ragged with pain. “I was hit by a Crow arrow and tumbled off Wiyaka during the battle. I remember hitting the snow-covered ground and losing consciousness. And then you were there, bending over me, telling me to get up.“ His smile was crooked with pain. “You shook your finger at me and ordered me to rise and mount Wiyaka. You were with me from then on, my woman. You gave me the strength to fight to come home.”
Tears stung Serena’s eyes as he stroked her braid, which lay against his chest as she leaned over him. “You could have died,” she rattled, as she examined the wound with her fingertips.
“And leave you behind?“ Wolf teased her. “No, Cante Tinza, I promised, remember? I would never leave you alone.”
“Y-yes, you did.“ She sniffed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “The wound looks good, Wolf.”
He allowed his arm to drop back to his side. “What I am in need of is your love and care. That will get me well.”
Her love. Shaken, Serena looked into his half-closed eyes. She knew that Wolf was in pain. Further, he’d lost a great deal of blood. His flesh was pale compared to the usual copper color of his skin, and his words were slurred with exhaustion. “Love and care can help,” she admitted brokenly as she took a moist, warm cloth and cleaned around the edges of the ugly-looking wound, “but you’ll need rest, food and your dressings changed daily to get well.”
“I have all I need in you.“ Wolf lingered at the edge of consciousness. Was he dreaming once again? Or was he really home, with Cante Tinza caring for him? He wasn’t sure. The past two days had been fraught with danger. “We counted coup on the Crow. We scattered their herd of horses and brought many back with us. Five Crow are dead, and we lost no one. It was a good battle. I counted coup against the chief, Gray Horse. I touched him with my lance.”
Serena listened to Wolf’s mumblings, her heart bursting with fear. He could have been killed. As she packed the wound with purple coneflower powder, which would keep it free of infection and speed healing, she could think of nothing else but nearly losing him. Shortly after that, Wolf fainted. It was just as well because she had to press other herbs deep into the wound to pack it, and then wrap clean buckskin around his shoulder to keep it uncontaminated.
Kagi came over, whining. She lay
down, her muzzle resting against the robe that covered Wolf’s legs.
“He’s going to live,” Serena told the wolf in a low, off-key voice. “He will get well.”
Kagi whined once more and then closed her eyes and slept. Serena kept busy. She prepared the nutritious and strengthening deer stew. A scratch at the door made her jerk in reaction. Chiding herself for being so jumpy, Serena went over and opened the deerskin flap.
“I heard that Black Wolf was injured,” Deer Woman cried. “Is he all right? May I see him?”
Gathering her scattered emotions, Serena said, “He’s going to be fine, Deer Woman. Wolf is sleeping now. Why don’t you come back tomorrow sometime? He desperately needs his rest right now. He lost a lot of blood.”
Wiping her eyes, she nodded and peered into the tepee. “I—I just wanted to know if he was going to live. I—I will return tomorrow.”
Serena replaced the flap so that the heat would no longer escape. She stood there in the graying light and stared down at Wolf, who slept deeply. Her heart burst open with longing, and she knew without a doubt that she loved Wolf.
* * *
Wolf awakened much later. He felt someone gently drawing an elk comb across his scalp and through his hair. With great effort, he forced his lids to open. Cante Tinza was kneeling at his side, the comb and his hair in her hands.
“I thought I was dreaming,” he rasped, his mouth gummy. “I remember the very first time you allowed me to touch you—to comb your hair. You were like a wary wild animal.“ The corners of his mouth drew in, and he tried to smile but didn’t succeed. “It gave me great pleasure to do that for you, to show you that not all men would reach out to hurt you, Cante Tinza.”
Serena smiled gently and began to braid his hair. “I remember that,” she admitted softly as she admired how his thick, black hair glinted blue highlights beneath the firelight. “I’d never had my hair combed by a man before and I remember sitting there thinking how odd it felt. I felt like a pampered horse being curried.”
Brave Heart Page 13