Serena stared openmouthed at the nervous woman. Cammy’s hands were never still, and she was so thin that it was pitiful. “I’m so sorry you lost your child. How awful it must be for you, Cammy. I—I didn’t know.”
“That’s why you got to do as Frederick orders. He sees those braids of yours and he remembers what happened—how I lost my baby. You just can’t defy him. I’m afraid he’s going to kill you, and you don’t deserve that. You must bow to him. Men are stronger and smarter than we are. It’s our place to be their servants. God has ordained it so.”
Serena couldn’t even be angry with Cammy, who lived in abject fear of her overbearing husband. “I understand,” she quavered, “better than you know.“ She knew that neither of the Gents believed that Kingston was the villain he was. Serena stood there on her bare, callused feet, her blue gingham dress too thin for the chilly October nights she spent in the barn. Darkness was falling, and she knew Cammy had to get back to the cabin or else Frederick would roar her name from the porch.
“Please, stop braiding your hair!” Cammy pleaded. “He beats you every morning. You can’t keep defying him.”
Serena hung her head. Braiding her hair was the only act of freedom she had left. In every other way, Gent kept her a prisoner.
“And start learning to read the Bible! If you’d just do those two things, he’d let you stay inside the house at night. It’s warmer there. I don’t want you to freeze to death out here. Winter’s coming on. You’ve got to save yourself!”
With a shake of her head, Serena held Cammy’s frightened stare. “You don’t understand,” she told her wearily. “My husband’s people are a humble people. They understand the importance of helping one another, working together and using love, not violence, to get people to do things.”
“But you can’t keep living in a dreamworld. You aren’t going back.“ Cammy pointed to Serena’s chains. “Do you want to wear those forever?”
“Kingston paid your husband enough money for a year. After that, he has to let me go. Why would he continue to feed me or keep me after that?”
With a moan, Cammy looked around, afraid that her husband might unexpectedly come out and overhear their conversation. “Frederick will keep you until you surrender! If it takes five years, he’ll do it. He’s a stubborn man and his word is his bond. If Mr. Kingston gave him that money to straighten you out, he’ll do it until his last breath.”
Serena stared in shock at the woman. “What are you saying?”
“Frederick will decide when or if you ever leave us.”
“Then I’m nothing more than a slave,” Serena rattled. The drenching reality washed through her, chilling her. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“At least you have a roof over your head and something to eat. It’s better than those niggers down south have.”
“You and I are both slaves,” Serena told her fervently. “Slaves to Frederick. White men look at white women as beasts of burden, that’s all. They take their pleasure with us when it pleases them, and then they throw us aside when they don’t want us.”
“Lord, don’t speak that way! If Frederick hears you saying such things, he’ll beat you to death!”
Defiantly, Serena rasped, “I’d rather die than stay here under his hand.”
With a little moan, Cammy left the stall and shut the door. She ran down the aisle, her skirt rustling as she left.
Serena sat with her head bowed. She touched the braided black and red hair that still remained around her throat. When Camille had started to cut it off, Serena had pushed her away. No one was going to take the necklace Wolf had made from their hair. No one.
Tears stung Serena’s eyes. The past month had been a different kind of hell. Wolf would never be able to find her. He would be in terrible danger if he tried to leave his tribe’s territory. He could be killed either by whites, who were jumpy and nervous about Indians, or by another tribe’s warriors. Serena knew that this time Wolf would not come after her. He would choose to stay with his people, to raise their two children. It was up to her to escape—to make her way back to him and their daughters.
Heart aching with loneliness for her family, Serena lay down and brought the thin wool blanket over her shoulders. The October nights were cold, and sometimes she awoke near dawn, shivering. How she missed her daughters and Wolf! Her dreams at night replayed her happy years with the Lakota, especially the birth of Wakinyela and the tenderness of Wolf as he cared for her in the cave afterward. Wolf’s words and ideas were carried forever in her heart.
As she lay there with her knees drawn up toward her body, Serena’s mind gyrated. Frederick Gent seemed to have a sixth sense about her desire to escape. During the day, no matter if she was on the porch churning butter, in the barn milking the cows or in the kitchen helping Cammy make bread, he purposely kept the end of her chain bolted to a nearby wall.
Without a doubt, Frederick Gent considered Serena the devil’s own spawn. He forced Cammy to come out and read to her from the Bible each night after the day’s work had been done. Serena knew that Gent hated her defiance. Little by little, he was wearing her down. The Dutchman was rigid, opinionated and unyielding. He came out to the barn each morning to see if she had unbraided her hair. If her hair was braided, he beat her with his belt.
Serena felt sorry for Cammy, who was a child compared to Frederick. He had married her when she was fifteen years old in the Netherlands. He had brought her to America five years ago and they had worked side by side to create their farm out of the thick Ohio woodlands. Cammy had looked grief-stricken as she shared the loss of her baby with her. Serena’s heart ached for her, for she understood what loss of a child did to a person.
Some mornings when Cammy came out with hot porridge and a thick slice of bread, Serena knew the woman had been cruelly raped by her husband. Cammy’s dark brown eyes would show the animal fright, and her hands would be shaking nervously. The bond they shared, Serena thought, was one of misery at the hands of a white man.
* * *
“So, you think you can talk my wife into letting you escape?”
Serena heard Gent’s thunderous voice. She was barely awake, and the man’s tone was hard and angry against her ears. Lifting her lashes, she realized with a start that Frederick was leaning over her, his face red with fury. Her eyes flew open as he forced her on her back and closed his fingers around her throat. In his other hand he held a knife.
With a snarl, Gent straddled Serena. His weight was suffocating as his fingers dug into the sides of her neck to hold her still. Serena struggled to fight him off. She saw him put down the knife and ball his fist. The side of her head exploded with pain and light.
“You evil woman,” he breathed raggedly, grabbing the knife. “You frightened my wife, you threatened her, and now I’m going to make sure you start bending to my will.”
Groggily, Serena opened her eyes as far as the swollen lids would allow. She lay limply beneath him, and she felt one of her braids being lifted. The smile on Gent’s face showed his glee as he took the knife and began to saw through her hair at the top of the braid. Trying to lift her hand, and unable to do so, Serena made a mewling sound.
“Nooo…”
“It’s time you gave up your savagery,” he snarled, and cut the second braid away from the side of her head. “And this is going, too,” he said as he placed the knife against her throat and cut through the hair necklace. “No more defiance, girl. You think you’re a slave? Well, I’ll show you slavery.“ He got off her and put the knife into a sheath on his belt. “Get up!” he roared.
Dazed, Serena weakly struggled to obey his order. The pain in her head was excruciating. She heard Gent roaring at her like a wounded bull, his voice buffeting her ears. Blood flowed from her nose and mouth. She saw him lean down. His hand was like a hurtful talon against her arm as he hauled her upright. If he hadn’t pushed her against the side of the stall, Serena would have crumpled. Gent took the key and unlocked the chain from the wall.
“Get going!” he snarled, and pushed her toward the open stall door.
Serena tripped and fell to her hands and knees. Gent snarled her name and raised his booted foot to kick at her. Serena wasn’t able to move fast enough to dodge the coming blow to her ribs. The wind was knocked out of her as she slammed against the hard-packed floor of the aisle.
“Get up or I’ll kick you all the way to the cabin!” he roared.
In pain, Serena slowly got to her hands and knees. Through her tears of agony, she saw Cammy standing at the entrance to the barn, her hands pressed against her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. Serena stood with her feet wide apart to keep from falling once again. As she hobbled toward the entrance, she saw Cammy’s stricken features more closely. Both her eyes were blackened, and the side of her face was swollen. Serena realized that Cammy had shared their conversation from the night before with Frederick, but she couldn’t be angry with the woman. She was nothing but a frightened shadow of herself.
Once they were in the cabin, Frederick made Serena go to a windowless room. He shoved her into the small, cramped place. There were several blankets on the floor and a Bible. Serena turned, expecting him to strike her again.
“Now, you’re staying in here,” Gent told her, his eyes narrowing. “In the dark, where you belong. Every evening my wife will come in and teach you to read the Bible. You will get down on your knees and pray with her for forgiveness from the Lord for your unclean thoughts. If you don’t do it, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life until you surrender your soul to the Lord. I’m tired of you defying me. I’m the man of this house. I don’t want to hear any more about the Injuns. You aren’t going back—ever. You either surrender or you will remain here for as long as it takes to break your spirit and embrace the Lord as your God.“ He shook his finger at her, sputtering. “No more talk about the Great Spirit! This is the devil in disguise! I will not allow you to sully my wife’s mind. Understand?”
The door was slammed shut, and Serena was left in complete darkness. Tears formed and fell as she realized that all her hair had been cut off. But worse, she realized as she frantically felt around her neck for the hair necklace—it was gone, too. Anguish fused with anger and then terror. Serena ached physically, but the blow to her spirit, to her hope of ever getting away from Gent, was far worse. Despair settled around her like a suffocating cloak.
As Serena lay sobbing quietly, rolled up into a ball, she felt her hope shatter. She had fought through five months, never giving up hope. Now her braids had been destroyed, and so had the necklace Wolf had made with his own hands. Serena retreated deep within herself, deep into the memories of her days with the Lakota. They had respected her, loved her and treated like a human being, not like some animal to be whipped and beaten.
The darkness that surrounded her began to invade her heart and mind. She felt broken beneath the weight of Gent’s power over her. Her last physical reminders of her life with Wolf were gone, destroyed. Her hair was so short that it would take a year before it touched her shoulders once again. The darkness of reality began to flow through her as never before. For so long, Serena had told herself that someday she would be able to escape. She knew Wolf would never come after her because the distance was too great. And besides that, it would be impossible for him to find her.
Tears trickled hotly down Serena’s cheeks as she lay on the cold floor, sobbing. She tried to grasp on to straws of hope, but there were none left to grasp. Her baby daughter would never see her again, never have memory of her or of the love she held for her. Dawn Sky would remember her. Would she cry because she was lost to them? And then there was Wolf. Moaning, Serena cried harder. Wolf would remember her always, just as she would never forget him. Gent might be able to break her spirit, but he could never reach inside her heart and destroy the love she held for Wolf—not ever.
Chapter Fifteen
“Girl, get that milking done,” Frederick ordered.
Serena winced inwardly as Gent moved by her carrying two pails of milk. The mid-June warmth, fragrant with the scent of growing grass and flowers, blew through the aisle of the barn.
As Serena sat milking, Cammy came by to retrieve the pail from her. “Hurry,” she whispered urgently, “Frederick wants us to get that butter churned. He’s leaving for town tomorrow and wants to sell it there.”
With almost mechanical movements, Serena removed the pail and placed an empty one beneath the cow. She handed the pail filled with milk to Cammy, who scurried away with a tight, nervous smile.
The fragrance of the grass stirred Serena’s senses as she methodically began the milking once again. Why did it all smell so wonderful? Her mind sluggishly began to look back over the past nine months she had spent with the Gents. In October, Frederick had placed her in the dark, windowless room. She had remained there for five months. Her only reprieve was Cammy coming in nightly to teach her to read from the Bible.
The beatings stopped because her hair, now barely midway down her neck, could no longer be braided. Serena’s hands trembled as she milked the patient cow. Lately, her dreams, vivid and colorful, had returned. When Frederick kept her locked up in the room, deprived of light and exercise, she had stopped dreaming. It was as if her entire world had shattered and dissolved. She was left with such a vast feeling of numbness and emptiness that she could do little more than functional things such as get up, complete her toilet, take a sponge bath from a basin of water once a week and look forward to Cammy’s nightly company.
The unspoken fear of Frederick coming into the room with his belt was always there, so Cammy had refused to talk to her about anything other than reading. When winter came she had nearly frozen to death in the unheated room. She would sit bundled in blankets, listening to her teeth chatter, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, feeling empty and lost.
Patting the cow affectionately, Serena stood up. She wore ill-fitting shoes that pinched her feet because Frederick had ordered her to dress like a lady once he was satisfied her spirit was broken. No longer did she wear the chains.
Placing the pail aside, Serena untied the cow and led her out of the barn. Serena lifted her face to absorb that wonderful sensation of sunlight bathing her body. She released the cow into the pasture, locked the gate and then stood with her hands resting on the weathered boards. All around her, life abounded with such dazzling color, fragrance and drama that Serena closed her eyes and hungrily allowed it to embrace her.
A sadness moved through her, and memories of the past, of Wolf and her baby daughter, touched her hibernating heart. It was one of the few times Serena had remembered them since her release from the dark room in the cabin. Her hands tightened on the wood; if Frederick caught her daydreaming like this, he’d put her back into that room as he had before, as punishment.
What was it about today? Serena opened her eyes and scanned the wooded horizon that embraced the farm. To the west, she saw huge white clouds billowing upward, indicating that a powerful thunderstorm would surely strike the farm within the next hour. The wind moved hotly across Serena’s skirt, shifting the material against her legs.
Serena stood there mesmerized. From some hidden, forgotten corner of her mind and heart, she recalled the first storm she’d weathered with Wolf. The scene came back vividly, gripping her, as if it were more real than where she was now, standing at the gate to the cow pasture.
She had been out with Wolf in the late afternoon, collecting herbs in a flower-laden meadow in the Paha Sapa. He had come over to her, touched her shoulder and told her to look up at Father Sky. Serena had straightened, aware of Wolf’s powerful presence at her side. He was smiling, and his dark eyes were dancing with delight as he pointed to the approaching storm.
He placed his hand on her shoulder again, his voice flowing through her as he told her about the mighty thunder beings—invisible spirit helpers to Father Sky, giants that trod the vastness above Mother Earth. The thunder beings would gather the many cloud spirits, then sha
pe and combine them into a massive thunderstorm. They would then walk and guide these storms across Father Sky, hurling down bolts of lightning onto Mother Earth.
Wolf had leaned close, his lips near her ear as he told her that Father Sky loved Mother Earth, that the rain and lightning were his way of making love to her, showing to her his reverence. The lightning fed Mother Earth, and the rain quenched her thirst. When the storm broke, and the lightning forks danced around them, Wolf had pulled Serena into the safety of a small, nearby cave. He had placed her between his legs with her back to him. They had watched the rain fall furiously, soaked up quickly by Mother Earth. Serena had leaned against his damp body, feeling his heat, feeling his love for her. She remembered Wolf’s head against her own, his mouth pressing small kisses against the damp hair at her temple, his hands caressing her arms.
With a little cry, the emotions from that lost memory deluged Serena and made her slowly sink to the earth. She pressed her hand against her eyes, not only seeing that memory, but feeling it. For the past seven months, she’d felt nothing. Nothing!
The thunder rumbled, and Serena lifted her chin and opened her eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched the storm move with frightening speed toward the farm. The memories were flooding back from somewhere deep within her, like a caldron boiling over. She did not think of finding shelter. She could only remain kneeling on the rich, warm earth, her hand on the gate, staring up at the storm in awe. Serena saw several bolts of lightning fork downward, striking the woods. She felt the thunder vibrate through her, paying homage to what was occurring within her.
With a shaking hand, Serena barely touched her breast. Her heart was beating frantically, as if it knew something she was only beginning to become aware of. Overwhelmed by the memories of her years spent with Wolf and the Lakota, Serena could do nothing but feel, sob, and remain crouched on the ground in the path of the storm. The wind began to pick up, whipping around her, ruffling the short, shorn hair that hung lifelessly around her face.
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