by Karen Kay
“Humph!” he answered. “I have not agreed to accompany you there.”
She stiffened. “And yet,” she said, “I have sealed my end of the bargain.”
“I made no such bargain with you.”
She sighed, and he watched, enchanted, as the valleys and peaks of her chest rose and fell. She said, “Please, Lone Arrow. Please, I don’t know how to persuade you to my cause, other than with what I have already done. Please, will you take me? It is very important to me.”
Lone Arrow rolled away from her, onto his back. The feel and solidity of the earth beneath him comforted him, if only because it was something which was familiar. In contrast, she seemed suddenly alien.
Ho! He had not expected her to plead.
She continued, “I know that you don’t wish to lead me to the cave, but remember that these were my conditions. In a way, you are obligated.”
He cut a glance toward the heavens. But he did not refute her. If he were to be truthful, he knew that the words she spoke were true.
Ho! What a mess he had made of this. For despite what he had told her of his intentions, he had certainly been aware of her own.
He sighed, then muttered, “And so it is this reason why you have lain with me? To elicit my cooperation in showing you the cave?”
She hesitated, he noted it at once. And turning his head, he watched her closely, for it was in this way, as the wise men had always counseled, that a man can know what is in the heart of another.
But whatever it was that she felt, she kept it hidden. For he could detect nothing in her countenance, except, perhaps the aftermath of lust.
Inhaling a deep sigh, he at last proffered, “I have been thinking.”
She sent him a piqued glance.
He ignored it. “I have decided…” he said, speaking so deliberately that she was forced to lean forward. “I have decided that you are right.”
Halfway toward him, she went rigid, he felt her do so. Ah, he thought, so this last statement had gained him her attention.
He continued, “I knew the consequences of this act with you, even though, before I committed myself, I told you I would not lead you to the treasure cave.”
“But—”
“And so I will take you there.”
Stunned, surprised, perhaps even dazed. It was the only way to describe her expression. And it was several moments before she uttered, “In truth? You…will…take me there?”
He shrugged.
“Tell it to me once more, Lone Arrow, so I can be sure that I understand you perfectly.”
He kept his silence. He had said it once, he would not repeat it. And so he voiced instead, “You are now my woman. It is your obligation to obey me.”
She hesitated. “That is not the answer that I seek, and you know it.”
He uttered nothing more, however, but merely stared at her.
And she appeared to study him for a moment, until at last she asked, “Why this change? Why are you suddenly accepting my conditions?”
Lone Arrow sent her a brief scowl. How was he to answer that? He could not very well explain that seeing her there amongst the buffalo this afternoon had changed his view of her. Ho! It had changed him.
He frowned. It was a truth even he was reluctant to admit to himself, let alone entertain the idea of telling her. And so, in an effort to maintain his dignity on the subject, he jerked his head to the left, a self-conscious gesture.
At some length, he uttered, “Perhaps I changed my mind because it is the only way I can think of to keep you safe.”
“Oh,” was all she uttered, her voice sounding as though the breath had been knocked from her. And despite all the reasons why he should not, despite his unwavering stoicism, he sensed her loss, observed her crestfallen expression. But it was not within him to give her comfort…not at this moment, especially when he did not understand why she even needed comfort. At last she continued, “Then you are only marrying me to protect me…not for any other reason?”
He nodded.
“You once said you cared for me. Is there nothing more? A feeling of…of affection…of love?”
At her question, he hesitated. It was within the realm of possibility that he might deny it. It was also with some revelation that he realized he could not do so. Thinking quickly, he said, “I have made no such statement.”
She sighed. “No, you haven’t.”
She turned her head away from him. And even though her body was pressed up against his own, he felt her withdrawal. He was quick to note, as well, that her retraction from him stung.
At length, without looking at him, she continued, “You wish to keep me safe—like you did when we were children. Is that the only thing that is important to you?”
He sat back, putting a tiny bit of distance between them. Meanwhile, he searched within himself for an answer. What could he say, he wondered, without revealing too much about himself?
She, however, did not wait for his answer, and she said, “Couldn’t you like me just a little bit more? If, for no other reason than the fact that you simply like me?”
Ah, so that was it. Lone Arrow sighed and found he could not meet the look in her eyes.
He had made love to her. He was aware that she would desire reassurance of his devotion to her. Did not most women?
Yet he could not acquiesce and give her what she needed. Not when he did not know what was in her heart.
After some moments, he said, “Are you certain that I do not already like you? I desire you; I have made you my wife. Is that not enough?”
She gave him a curious look, one he could not interpret.
And he continued, “As the wise ones have often said, ‘the heart that is critical hides its own deeds.’ And so I would ask you a similar question, I think. Is your interest in me the fact that only I can take you to the cave? Did you play me wrong when you married me, or do you have feeling for me?”
She drew in her breath rapidly, the action creating a slight hiss. But it was all she did before she, too, fell into silence. Although, after a moment, she uttered, “I asked you first.”
He breathed out silently, deciding that the truth might not hurt, at least this once. He said, “I have some feeling for you. I always have.”
She made an odd noise in her throat, sounding as though she choked, but she said, “Always have?”
He ignored the question. “I will take you to the treasure cave. It will be my gift to your family. But I will not take you there directly. Nor will you go to it with open eyes.”
“Fine.”
“There is one more thing.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You must wear no clothing when I take you there. No dress, no jewelry, not even huupé.”
“What is huupé?”
“Shoes.”
She frowned. “No clothing?”
He shrugged. “It is my condition.”
“But it’s rocky there. Rocky and cold, and, if I remember correctly, we have to crawl into it to reach the chamber. Don’t you think I could scrape myself too easily, or step on a sharp rock, or something similar?”
He did not answer. For he had come to a decision. And indeed, having done so, he would not bend.
After a while, she asked, “And you? Will you also go there naked?”
He did not so much as blink. “I will remain clothed.”
“But—”
“My honor is not in question.”
“And mine is?”
He drew his arms up over his chest. “Must you ask?”
She sighed. “I’m assuming I can remain clothed until we reach the cave?”
He nodded.
She lay back. “This last request is a rather extreme condition, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps,” he said. “I know only that it is my requirement.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Will Pretty Moon and her husband accompany us?”
Lone Arrow nodded. “Most of the way. It is always better protecti
on to travel with more than two people. Although we are in Absarokee country, one never knows when one might encounter an enemy.”
“Then her husband would witness me—”
Lone Arrow came up onto an elbow, glaring down at her. “Do you think I would parade you in front of him?”
“I—I wasn’t sure, I—”
“You will be with me, alone. But my eyes will be eyes enough.”
Silence. Stiff, uncomfortable silence.
In truth she became silent for so long that, after a time, Lone Arrow wondered if she had fallen asleep. However, at last she said, “Then, Lone Arrow, I believe that my answer will be, yes.” She sighed, then, “When do we start?”
He rose above her. “You are certain that you will do this?”
“I am certain.”
“Even knowing that, seeing you that way, might slow our progress?”
It was a suggestive comment he made, and he leered down into her eyes so that she could, by gazing up at him, understand the truth of what he suggested.
And stare back at him, she did, straight into his eyes, until at last, she said, “I am certain.”
“Then so be it,” he said. “We leave tomorrow, before the sun rises to meet the sky.”
She acknowledged him with a nod. “All right. But Lone Arrow?” she asked.
He turned his head toward her.
“I find it difficult to sleep when I am cold.”
“Are you cold?”
“Very.”
He sat up, bringing her with him so that he could grab hold of his buffalo robe beneath her and unfold it. Laying it out flat, he put her back upon it while he proceeded to wrap her up in it. He said, “I know of other cures that will keep you very warm, much more pleasurable cures.”
But it seemed she was to have nothing more to do with him this night. Turning her back on him, she fell to sleep almost at once.
And while she rested, he tossed about for most of the night.
Perhaps in a way, it served him right.
“His eyes…not…leave you.” This statement was made to the accompaniment of a series of hand motions.
Carolyn shook back her hair, placing the few strands of the chestnut mane behind her ears. Feigning disinterest, she glanced up from where she and Pretty Moon were sitting, looking in the direction where her friend pointed.
Carolyn muttered, beneath her breath, “His eyes don’t leave me?” It certainly did not look that way to her. Lone Arrow was deep in conversation with Big Elk, and, as far as Carolyn could determine, she might as well have been a tree stump for all the notice he took of her.
But Pretty Moon was continuing, “The friend of Pretty Moon’s husband…do…much to…not let you see. But…he watches.” It was as though Pretty Moon had read Carolyn’s thoughts. “This one,” Pretty Moon pointed to herself. “…has gift…of…how to see to heart…beneath.”
Carolyn nodded and gave her friend a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you do,” she agreed as she sat back on her haunches. She sighed. Fact was, what use was it, even if he were watching her?
It wasn’t as though the man had any great feeling for her. Oh, yes he felt responsible for her; of this she was certain. Perhaps he was even a little fond of her. But that seemed to be as far as it went.
For almost a week now, their party had been traveling over Absarokee terrain, traversing their way from one butte to another, tramping over hills and valleys, picking their way across rolling prairies and mountainous grades. And during that entire time, Lone Arrow had barely acknowledged her existence.
Undoubtedly, there were a multitude of reasons why he avoided her. After all, during the day, one of the men was required to lead their party, while the other pulled up the rear. And at night the two men were obligated to stand guard. But even during moments when Lone Arrow might have rested, he kept well clear of her.
True, Carolyn could have approached him. But she’d be darned if she’d do that.
Carolyn gazed skyward and blinked. The sun had finally ascended to midpoint in the sky, she observed, the time of day when the men usually called a break. Carolyn hoped that they would make camp here, if only so that she could catch her breath. They might be able to press on; she, however, was tired.
Carolyn ran her hand over her brow, which appeared to prompt Pretty Moon to observe, “Mountain…air…weak. Take heart. Soon…your body…breathe…easy.”
Carolyn nodded.
While Pretty Moon continued, “You…ride…pony. This one,” she pointed to herself, “will walk when we…begin our…march again.”
Carolyn smiled but shook her head. “No, you go ahead and ride. The higher we go into these mountains, the colder it gets. To tell you the truth, if it’s a matter of riding and freezing or walking and being tired, I’ll take being tired.”
Pretty Moon nodded, but said, “Runs-with-bears could ask…husband for…robe. Runs-with-bears’s husband…not wear it.”
Carolyn met this statement with silence, as she gazed around her, surveying the lay of the land. Several wildflowers and different tufts of grass grew here in this higher elevation. And despite herself, she could not help but admire their wild beauty.
For instance, at her feet was a wandlike species of flower whose petals were lavender mixed with white. And about four feet away spread numerous patches of a pinkish-violet flower that looked much like the phlox. Their sweet perfume merged with the more earthy scent of the short grasses and pine trees. Inhaling, Carolyn decided that a more inexperienced person might have been left with the illusion that all about them was peace and harmony, so great was its enchantment.
But alas, such an impression would have been no more than a mere illusion, and more than a little dangerous. Carolyn knew better than most that this country was as rugged as these peaks and ridges over which they traveled. That the danger from an enemy always lurked over the next ridge, beyond the next pass. Truth be known, it required the utmost skill simply to survive.
Pretty Moon, however, had not quite given up in her attempt to persuade Carolyn to ride, and the Indian woman said, “Runs-with-bears’s husband…should…give her…robe. Runs-with-bears should…ask.”
Carolyn shook her head. “No,” she said. “I’d still be cold, I’m certain. After all, do you feel this wind?” Carolyn pulled her woolen shawl more closely around her shoulders. “It seems to blow here incessantly.”
“What…this word, in-cess-aunt-lee.”
“It means that the wind blows all the time.”
“Ah!” Pretty Moon repeated, “In-cess-aunt-lee…all time?”
“That’s right. Besides, I’m not so sure that my husband’s robe would do me any good. It’s simply too cold here. In fact, it feels to me as though, if I’m not standing in direct sunlight, I’m very chilled.”
Pretty Moon paused. Then, “White woman is…afraid…of husband.” It was no question.
“Of course I’m not afraid of him. It’s simply that my shawl is enough.” As if to emphasize the point, she fussed with the article of clothing until it covered not only her shoulders but her arms, too.
Pretty Moon shook her head. “If not…afraid…then ask…for robe.”
“I don’t need the robe. As I said, I have my shawl, and—”
“Runs-with-bears…ah…” she gazed about her, “needs robe…very much. She all time…ah…alóochiak…stopped on trail…very much. Pretty Moon see it…hard…for Runs-with-bears to…catch breath. She need…ride. Others not…wait…for her. Runs-with-bears always…running. Not good.”
All right. So what if Pretty Moon was making a fairly good point. Under no circumstances was Carolyn going to approach Lone Arrow and ask him for anything. Not after that silly condition that he had imposed upon her.
How could he have asked such a thing? To go to the cave blindfolded and naked; no shoes, no jewelry, nothing?
More importantly, how was she to carry the cross?
“Go now. Ask…husband for…robe.”
Carolyn shr
ugged. “Truly, I am fine.”
But Pretty Moon would not be put off. “You…wait. This one,” she said, “go…ask.”
“No!”
But it was useless. Pretty Moon had already sprung to her feet, was already approaching the men.
And had there been a convenient hole that Carolyn could have crawled into, she would have gladly done so.
Carolyn watched the exchange between the petite young woman and the men. And Carolyn was dismayed to see Pretty Moon scolding not only Lone Arrow but Big Elk as well.
Neither gentleman, thank goodness, looked over to where Carolyn still waited on the ground, however. Thank you for that, dear Lord, Carolyn uttered a silent prayer.
True to her word, Pretty Moon returned within a matter of minutes. And slung over her arm was Lone Arrow’s robe. It was a beautiful article of clothing, Carolyn admitted, even though personally, it awoke memories of the first time she had made contact with the item. Hadn’t Lone Arrow wrapped her up in it?
Bleached white, the robe was painted in a design that prompted Carolyn to think of arrows; vivid red, blue, green and brown arrows, their placement on the robe forming four different concentric circles. Worn fur side in for warmth, it seemed too stunning to be a mere piece of clothing.
“It’s beautiful,” said Carolyn. No matter that she would have died rather than ask Lone Arrow for assistance, she could not resist admiring such a lovely article.
Pretty Moon grinned, giving the robe to Carolyn. “Éeh, it is pretty. It…made…by…she who was…ah…búua-lí-ché…like a wife.”
Like a wife? Carolyn grew very still.
Was Lone Arrow already married? Dear Lord, married? It was a scenario that Carolyn had not even considered.
And why hadn’t she? Wasn’t she well aware that Indian men generally married more than one woman? It was a commonly accepted practice.
Carolyn shut her eyes as if to ward off the realization. Funny how she had not even contemplated such a thing. Funny, too, how the feeling of hurt swept through her. And it was as instantaneous as it was consuming.
Inhaling a deep breath, Carolyn barely gave the robe another glance, despite the fact that Pretty Moon held it out to her. And to Pretty Moon’s sparkling words, “You…ride now,” Carolyn shook her head.