Dream Warrior: His Savage Kiss

by Bobbi Smith

  "You are sure it will help my people?"

  "It's important that there be understanding in our dealings together and you could provide that."

  Little Snow slipped into Silver Wolf's thoughts then. Just like his mother, she'd constantly encouraged him to learn more about his father's heritage. She had always wanted him to read and study. He knew what she would have said to him. She would have told him to go and do his best.

  Thinking of Little Snow also brought her mother to mind, and he found himself wondering if his going to an eastern school would change her opinion of him. At the thought, he grew annoyed with himself. He told himself he didn't care what Little Snow's mother thought of him. All that mattered was that he do the right thing. He frowned in concentration as he considered the decision that had the power to change the rest of his life.

  When Silver Wolf didn't respond right away, the reverend feared he was planning to say no. "While you're learning about the whites, they'll have the opportunity to be learning about you. Everyone would benefit."

  Silver Wolf considered all he was saying, but still, fear of the unknown nagged at him. He had not known this uneasiness for many summers, and it angered him. He could ride, hunt, and fight with the best of the Cheyenne warriors. He had faced many dangerous situations and not been afraid. Yet, a strong part of him was cautioning him not to leave the land he loved. Denying the fear, he chose the more difficult path, the one that would be best for his people. "I will go."

  Silver Wolf made his way to his and Little Snow's favorite place at the stream. He had not been back since she'd left, but today he knew he had to go. He sat down on the bank, and after getting out the paper and pencil Reverend Louis had given him, he began to write.

  Dear Little Snow,

  I have made an important decision today . . .

  As he labored over the letter, he heard a rustling in the brush and looked up to see Barnie lumbering toward him, her tail wagging happily as she neared.

  Silver Wolf welcomed her warmly, and the dog curled up beside him on the bank and rested her head on his thigh. As he paused in his writing to pet her the loneliness he'd ignored for so long filled him.

  "You're missing her, too," he said to Barnie as he stroked her silken fur.

  She raised sad eyes to his in understanding and sighed as only a dog can.

  Silver Wolf finished the letter and was about to put it in the envelope when he remembered the many lessons in tracking he'd given Little Snow. Coaxing Barnie down to the water's edge so she'd get muddy, he took her paw and made an imprint of it at the bottom of the page. That done, he sealed the note away.

  He stayed at the stream with the dog until darkness forced them to go their separate ways. When he returned to the village, he gave the letter to the minister so he could send it for him.

  The next six weeks passed in a rush for Silver Wolf as he traveled east with Reverend Louis. The trip was a revelation to him. He experienced the speed of trains and saw steamboats for the first time. He also saw for himself the vast numbers of white people who lived in the big cities in the land toward the morning sun. Tall Shadow had been right: They were as many as the stars.

  It was as they settled in the carriage that would take them on the final leg of their journey to Marywood College that Reverend Louis broached the last subject that was troubling him.

  "Silver Wolf, there is one more thing we have to discuss."

  "What is it?" Silver Wolf asked.

  "I know you may not like my suggestion, but I hope you will listen to me with an open mind and heart. This concerns a matter I think will help ease your transition at Marywood."

  "I don't understand. What more can you want from me? I am already wearing white man's clothes, and I have cut my hair so no one will think I'm a 'savage heathen.' " He'd overheard a woman making that comment about him on the first part of their journey. "What more must I do?"

  The missionary heard the frustration in his voice and smiled a little sadly. "You need a name to use in white society."

  "I am Silver Wolf." He stiffened in resentment. They could take many things from him, but he would not allow them to take his name.

  "I know, but there might be some who would not appreciate the sacred importance of your name."

  "My father's name was Marshall. If I must do this, I will take Marshall as my name to honor him."

  Reverend Louis realized how hard this was for him, and sympathized. "You're like Daniel going into the lion's den."

  He studied Silver Wolf, seeing the proud way he carried himself and the intelligence shining in his eyes. For a moment, he almost wished he hadn't brought him. In the territory, he'd been accepted as a fine Cheyenne warrior. The reverend wondered if his plan to help the Indians would really serve to divert disaster, or if he was merely ruining this young man's life by forcing him into another culture, a culture not known for its kindness to those who were different.

  "I remember the story of Daniel from your teachings," Silver Wolf remarked with a slight smile. "Daniel came out untouched."

  The missionary smiled, too, then said with a confidence he wasn't really feeling, "As you will, my friend. You're as strong as Daniel."

  "Then I shall take Daniel for my first name while I am here," he told him. He stared out the carriage window. He was a thousand miles from his people; he had cut his hair and changed his manner of dress. Now, they wanted him to give up his name. It was a difficult thing to agree to, but he bent to the wisdom of the missionary. "I will be called Daniel Marshall."

  "Good." This time his smile was real. "You will do well."

  Silver Wolf hoped he was right. As the carriage turned up the long driveway that led to the three-story, ivy-covered brick building that was Marywood College, he knew the new life that had been set before him was about to begin.

  "Again, I welcome you to Marywood, Mr. Marshall, and I repeat how pleased we are to have you with us," Mr. Dalton, the headmaster, said to Silver Wolf as they concluded their initial meeting. "It seems everything Reverend Louis wrote to me about you is true. I'm sure you're going to do fine here at Marywood. Let's go to the dormitory now and see about getting you settled. You'll be sharing a room with Kyle Mason. He's a good athlete and scholar and comes from one of the best families upstate. I'm sure you'll get along well."

  The headmaster led the way outside from the office through the halls of the administration building. They crossed the commons with its lush grass and splashing fountain and entered the dormitory that housed the college's two hundred male students. After climbing the stairs to the second floor, he directed them to a room at the end of the hall. Silver Wolf came face-to-face with his roommate when Kyle Mason answered Mr. Dalton's knock on the door.

  "Mr. Dalton!" The nineteen-year-old Kyle, a tall, classically handsome young man with blond hair and cold blue eyes, was surprised to see the headmaster, but he quickly masked the emotion.

  "Mr. Mason, this is Daniel Marshall, your new roommate. He's come to Marywood on Reverend Louis's recommendation. I trust you'll take him in hand and help him learn what he needs to know."

  Though his expression seemed to indicate that he was pleased, Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded the newcomer. He was furious at being saddled with a roommate, and especially one that looked to be a half-breed Indian. Kyle's sophisticated manners served him well, though, and he did not show his disgust in the presence of the headmaster and the reverend. "Come in."

  "Thank you." Mr. Dalton gestured his new student and the missionary inside the room ahead of him. "They'll be bringing his trunk up shortly. Which bed will be his?"

  "He can have the one closest to the door."

  "Fine. Daniel, I leave you in Kyle's capable hands. He'll tell you all you need to know, and if there's anything else I can help you with, just contact me at my office."

  "Yes, sir."

  The one bag Silver Wolf had been carrying with him contained all his most precious possessions. He laid it on the bed that Kyle had indicate
d was his, then followed the two older men from the room. Mr. Dalton left Silver Wolf and Reverend Louis alone in the lobby downstairs.

  "We made it, Daniel." The reverend deliberately used his new name so he would get used to it.

  "Thank you for coming with me."

  "I couldn't let you go through this alone. I'll be staying with my family in the area for three more weeks before going back. If you need anything, you can contact me there." He'd already given him the address. "I'm going to miss you, but I think one day you'll come to see that this was the best thing for you. I'll write to let you know how Tall Shadow is and what's happening in the village," he promised. Their eyes locked and their gazes met in full understanding of the challenge Silver Wolf was about to undertake. "You're Daniel now. Remember that. Daniel was not defeated."

  Silver Wolf nodded, and they shook hands. He stood in the doorway of the dormitory watching the missionary until he'd gone, then returned to his room.

  "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Kyle sneered out loud to himself as he rifled through his new roommate's bag. So far, he'd found only Indian clothing, a pair of moccasins, and a small rawhide bag that had some designs painted on it.

  Daniel had sensed Kyle's resentment, but he'd never expected to find him going through his personal things. Fury filled him as he stared at the arrogant white man holding his medicine bag. "Give me that!" He launched himself at him without thought.

  Kyle dodged his attack as he taunted, "Whatever's in here must be important . . . I think I'll take a look."

  Daniel put his head down and dove for him just as he was about to open the medicine bag. This time Kyle did not escape, but was tackled heavily. They crashed to the floor together, grappling and fighting for the bag. The sound of their struggle brought the rest of the boys on the floor running, and there was soon a crowd standing at the doorway watching them.

  While Daniel was the more fit of the two, Kyle proved strong and wily. The match drew blood as they exchanged blows in the quest for supremacy. After one particularly punishing hit, Kyle's grip on the bag loosened and it fell from his hand. Daniel drew back to snatch it up and had just done so when Philip Porter and Jeremy Michaels, two friends of Kyle's, stepped in and grabbed him.

  Daniel fought against them, but he was outnumbered and overpowered and finally forced to hold still. Blood dripped from a cut over his eyebrow, making him look every bit the savage as he fixed his glare on his tormentor. "Put it down, Mason."

  "Hey, Kyle. What have we got here?" Philip and Jeremy asked in unison, enjoying the ruckus and wondering why the newcomer was so upset.

  Kyle smiled venomously as he slowly got to his feet. His mouth was cut, and he angrily wiped the blood away. "This is my new roommate, Daniel Marshall. I guess he got a little upset because I was helping him unpack."

  "You mean he didn't want your help?"

  "Doesn't look that way, does it?" he sneered as he took a step closer to Daniel. Kyle was emboldened now that he knew the other boy couldn't attack him. "And all I wanted was to see what was in this little pouch . . ." He snatched the medicine bag out of his hand.

  "It's private!" Daniel ground out as he fought again to break free from the two boys holding him.

  "Let's see what's so private about it," Philip urged, sensing it must be something important to cause this much trouble.

  Kyle was about to open it and dump out the contents for all the boys to see when another voice rang out.

  "I don't think you want to do that, Mason."

  A hush fell over the group, and the young men standing in the doorway parted to let Benjamin Douglas enter the room. Tall, handsome, dark-haired, green-eyed Ben was the son of a very rich and influential senator, and though he easily could have been spoiled and arrogant, he was anything but. Ben didn't like injustice in any form, and he never hesitated to defend those in need. He was looked up to by the students at Marywood for his intelligence and quick wit, not to mention his superior athletic prowess, for he was an excellent boxer and horseman.

  "What?" Kyle looked up, surprised that anyone would have dared to interrupt him.

  Ben nodded toward Daniel as he stopped in front of Kyle. "Whatever is in that bag is private."

  "Who do you think you are, coming in here and telling me what to do? This isn't any of your business, Douglas."

  "I'm making it my business. I've got a friend standing by the door downstairs just waiting for me to signal him to go for Mr. Dalton. Return this man's property now and all will be forgotten. If you don't. . . . Well, I think you just might have some explaining to do. I know your parents contribute a lot of money to the school, but if the administration suddenly became aware of some of your other, shall we say, less honorable activities . . ." He let the sentence hang knowing he'd cornered him. Ben had long despised Kyle Mason. He knew he was a lowlife troublemaker, and it felt good to be able to back him down.

  Kyle went pale at Ben's unspoken threat and thrust the bag at him. "Here. Take it. I was just having a little fun."

  "Didn't look like fun to me," Ben remarked. "Let him go."

  When Jeremy and Philip released Daniel, Ben went to the window and waved, then turned around to face the group. "What are you looking at? I'm sure if the professors knew you had this much free time they'd be glad to give you extra work."

  The boys rushed to disperse, leaving Kyle, Ben, and Daniel alone in the room. Ben looked at Daniel and saw a flicker of wariness in his eyes. Wanting to gain his trust, Ben handed him the cherished medicine bag. "What's your name?"

  Daniel knew a deep abiding sense of relief as he took the bag. "I am Daniel Marshall."

  "I'm Ben Douglas. It's nice to meet you." He put out his hand and was glad when Daniel took it. "Get your things, Daniel Marshall. You can stay with me. I think you'll find the atmosphere in my room more relaxed."

  Daniel needed no more encouragement. He gathered up the items Kyle had strewn around and followed Ben.

  "Thanks for your help," Daniel told him as they strode down the hall to a room at the other end. It wasn't easy for him to admit that he'd needed help.

  "You're welcome," Ben returned quietly. He opened the door to his room and gestured him inside. "Take your pick of the beds."

  "You sure?"

  At Ben's nod, Daniel went to the window and looked out. The view was of the countryside, green and lush, stretching as far as the eye could see.

  "I'll take this one."

  "Make yourself at home," Ben invited as he stretched out on the other bed. He folded his arms behind his head as he lay there studying Daniel. Ben judged him to be about his own age, and he could tell he was proud just from the way he carried himself. He knew, too, that he had to be smart or he wouldn't be at Marywood. He wondered what tribe he was from and what had brought him to the East. "How did you end up here, Daniel?"

  "Reverend Louis has been a missionary teaching in our village for many years. He thought it would be good for me to study here."

  "I don't mean to sound ignorant, but I don't know a lot about Indians. What tribe are you?"

  Daniel could tell that his question was motivated by a desire to know, not to disparage or insult him. "My mother is Cheyenne; my father was white."

  "He's dead?"

  He nodded. "He died many years ago."

  "Do you have any other family?"

  "My grandfather is Tall Shadow, chief of our tribe, but I have no sisters or brothers."

  "That's too bad," Ben told him with an easy grin. "But I tell you what, I've got more family than I need, so if you want to borrow a sister or brother just let me know. I'm one of seven children."

  "I'll remember your offer."

  Ben had a feeling that Daniel was less than happy in his present situation, and he asked astutely, "Did you want to come here?"

  Daniel paused as images of his home, buffalo hunts, and Wild One raced through his mind. A wave of homesickness struck him, but as he thought of all that he'd seen since leaving the village, he knew his own d
esires didn't matter. "I need to be here," he answered slowly as he faced him. "I must learn more about your ways."

  "You say 'your' ways, but you're white, too."

  "I did not choose to be."

  Ben was thoughtful, then spoke in a voice tinged with regret. "After Kyle's actions, I understand. You got your first Marywood lesson in dealing with white men and it wasn't a very nice one."

  "My second lesson was better." He paused as their eyes met in understanding. "Not all whites are like Kyle."

  Their moods lightened.

  "What do you say we go downstairs to the dining room and get something to eat? You can tell me all about your home."

  Daniel knew his interest was real, and he agreed. They talked over their meal and beyond, then long into the night, and Daniel told him of the village and his way of life. He even spoke of Little Snow and their friendship. During the weeks that followed they became close friends. Ben helped him adjust to life at the college and taught him how to study. With his help, Daniel adapted quickly and, within a short period of time he was among the best in his class. He studied hard, sometimes staying up long after everyone else had retired to master a particularly difficult subject. It did not bother Daniel to do it. He was used to working hard to achieve his goals.

  As Kyle watched Daniel's achievements, his dislike of him grew. He took every opportunity he could to deride and insult him, wanting to make his life so miserable that he would leave and return to his own kind. It frustrated him when his efforts met with little reaction and usually only a cold-eyed stare from Daniel.

  Daniel was very much aware of Kyle's viciousness, but he knew better than to be drawn into any conflict with him. Whenever he felt discouraged, he thought of Tall Shadow and his mother, and he kept working to make them proud. He was aware there were many who were waiting for him to fail.

  As determined as he was to succeed, the long hours confined in the classrooms tested Daniel's patience. He longed to be outdoors. He missed the thrill of the hunt and his old way of life. Some nights when sleep eluded him, he would escape from the dormitory to the nearby countryside. He'd discovered a stream that ran in the woods not too far from the college and would seek out the comfort of its banks to pass the long night there.