"No. He's right. You stay close. And from now on, you take a gun with you. You hear me?"
"Yes, sir."
That night, after supper and chores, Lana wearily climbed into bed. It had been another exhausting day. But this time, her mind wouldn't get quiet and let her sleep. She thought of Two Hawks standing so close, staring so hard at her. What was he looking at, anyway? Hadn't he ever seen a girl before? And then she blushed, covering her face with her blanket. He had seen much more of her at the river than she ever intended.
* * *
That evening, in preparation for the feast, Two Hawks put on his best leggings and the moccasins with the intricate beadwork that his mother and sisters had labored over. Their beading skill was unsurpassed in the village. Skunk tails pompously trailed behind each of his heels. His freshly braided hair had red vermilion down the center part. Two Hawks felt as handsome as he looked.
When he joined the others at the feast, he deliberately sat close to a young woman he liked. Corn Flower was shy. In the past, whenever he tried to catch her eye, she would only look down, never at him. Once he threw a plum stone at her, trying to get her attention, but she acted as if nothing happened, as if nothing stung her cheek. Other young men were also interested in her, but she treated them all the same way.
That night, however, in the flickering light of the fire, Two Hawks caught her looking sideways under her long lashes at him. He sat up straighter and ignored her. He had brought the sugar; let her work for his attention this time. There were other young women smiling at him across the fire. He deliberately winked at one of them, aware that Corn Flower could see. Her scowling face made him secretly grin.
Strips of buffalo hung from sticks over the fire, where the fat melted and dropped, sizzling and hissing, into the flames. The enticing aroma sharpened everyone's hunger. People chatted and gossiped among themselves, all the while keeping one eye on the meal. All who had contributed pelts for the trade that day would get to taste the sugar and molasses first. The others could squabble over any that remained.
After the meal, the people grew quiet when Broken Man rose and stood close to the center. He recounted the day's events in great detail. They all shook their heads at the description of so many guns. Laughter filled the camp when he imitated a hen with its ungainly walk and funny sound. A hush fell over them as he told of the woman with blue eyes. So the rumors were true then.
When he told of Two Hawks touching T'on Ma's face, several of them looked wonderingly at Two Hawks. Had some of her power gone into him now? Or perhaps he would fall ill. They would have to wait and see. But he had done a very brave thing. On that, they all agreed.
* * *
Several days later, Lana and her mother picked rosehips not too far on the other side of the river. Rosehips were good for medicine and tea. Properly dried, they would last all winter. Each woman had her basket as well as a rifle. They spent almost an hour picking their way through the bushes when May stood up, holding her head.
"I've got the fiercest headache," she told Lana. "Too much sun, I reckon."
"Maybe you better get back to the house."
"Probably should."
"Give me your basket," Lana offered, "and I'll finish filling both of them. It won't take too much longer and then I'll come back."
"All right. Keep your gun handy, though."
"Yes'm."
Lana watched her mother walk away and then turned to continue her work. She labored steadily for twenty minutes, occasionally stopping to wipe her forehead with her apron. One basket was completely full and the other almost. As she straightened up to stretch her back, she saw huge blackberry vines a few yards away. Picking up both baskets and her gun, she clumsily made her way over to it for closer inspection. Though late in the season, lush, juicy berries covered the vines.
"Oh, what a pie these will make," she murmured as she popped one into her mouth, closing her eyes in ecstasy at the burst of rich, sweet flavor. When she opened them, she reached for more berries and caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw Two Hawks as he stood on the other side of the vines and intently watched her.
She had seen him three times now. This couldn't be a coincidence, and she determined to find out if he was friend or foe.
"Hello," she said softly. When he didn't move, she picked three berries and held them out in her open palm toward him.
"Here. Try these. They're good."
Two Hawks watched as Lana took a few steps closer to him. When he still didn't move, she picked up one of the berries and held it to his lips. Staring at her, he tried to decide what to do. If he refused the food, she might bewitch him and turn him into a rock or a bird. Thinking it for the best, he opened his mouth and let her push the berry in, all the while never taking his eyes off her.
For the first time, he saw her smile at him, watched her eyes light up. Picking up a second berry, she ate it herself. "Mmmmm," she continued smiling. "Good." When she offered him the last one, he took it from her hand and, to her surprise, held it to her mouth. In the custom of his people, it didn't do to accept a gift and not give something in return. Cautious, she let him feed it to her, and then stepped back toward her baskets.
Two Hawks followed and waited for her to face him. When she did, he touched her shoulder. "You are Water Woman," he informed her, "because I saw you first in the river. And I am Two Hawks."
She shook her head, not understanding. He touched her shoulder again and, to her ears, said, "T'on Ma. T'on Ma." Then he touched his chest and told her his name, "Centas Yi3."
"T'on Ma," Lana repeated, pointing to herself. When he nodded, she repeated his name, "Centas Yi," and touched his chest. He nodded again.
"Oh. All right. Nice to meet you, Centas Yi." Tilting her head, she asked, "What does T'on Ma mean?" Once he understood her question, he pantomimed the words for water and woman.
"Water Woman?" Lana's puzzled expression faded as she realized why he named her that. The first time he'd seen her, she had stood in the river.
"And your name? What does it mean?" she asked in pantomime again.
He searched the sky. An eagle flew low on the horizon. Pointing to that bird, he shook his head 'no'. Waiting for a moment, he pointed again, higher in the sky, to a hawk and nodded. "Centas."
He then held up two fingers. "Yi."
"Two?" she copied his gesture. "Oh, your name is Two Hawks." Lana smiled, proud of this breakthrough in communication. At least now she knew her name as well as his. "I'm Lana. Lana," she repeated.
"La-nah," he echoed. When she nodded her approval, a light of satisfaction filled his eyes.
She turned to pick more berries, scratching her hands on the thorns as she did so. Two Hawks saw the light traces of blood on her skin and realized that she wasn't a spirit woman. He nodded. At least that was one mystery solved.
Two Hawks relaxed now that he knew she wouldn't whisk him away to a cloud or turn him into rain or anything. Spending time together gave him more information to take back to the elders. Besides, he enjoyed looking at the pretty woman. He lay down on his side, stretched out his long legs, and leaned on one elbow as he watched her. It never occurred to him to help. Picking berries was woman's work.
* * *
After a short while, Lana decided she had enough berries for a pie. Besides, it was getting late and her family would worry about her if she didn't hurry home. She tried to get the two large baskets and the rifle gathered up for the long walk back, but it proved to be cumbersome. To her surprise, Two Hawks picked up one of the baskets and began walking in the direction of her house. She fell into step beside him.
When they waded through the river, he set the basket on the ground, held up his hand, and turned to go back.
Lana touched his elbow, stopping him. "Centas Yi, thank you." She smiled and nodded.
He studied her face for a moment and then slowly returned her smile. With that, he walked away.
* * *
"Well,
she's not a spirit woman," Two Hawks told his father that evening. "Her hands were bleeding from thorns."
Many Deer nodded. The elders hadn't yet come to a decision on what to do with them. This bit of information would help.
"Wait. How do you know her hands were bleeding?" Many Deer asked.
"I was with her when she picked berries."
Many Deer shot a look of concern at his rash son. "And her father, her brothers?"
"I didn't see them."
"You need to be more careful than that," he scolded. "They could have been close. She could have screamed and you would be dead now."
"I don't think she'll scream. As a matter of fact, she smiled at me today."
"What?" His father's face scrunched up in a frown. "Why was she smiling?"
Two Hawks knew that if he told his father they fed each other blackberries, it would only cause more confusion, more consternation. "I'm not sure," he finally said. "Perhaps because I helped carry her baskets."
Many Deer rose to his feet, agitated. "Have you lost your mind? Leave her alone. She'll get you killed!" He bent over to leave the tipi, muttering to his wife as he left. He needed air - air and time to think about his crazy son!
Chapter 3 - The Hunt
Lana made her way to the house, lumbering slowly with her burden of baskets. That night at dinner, she happily showed her family the blackberries.
"And there's more. A lot more," she informed them. "If you can spare Jake tomorrow, Pa, maybe we can go pick them."
Jake's eyes lit up. He hated working on the barn. Picking berries sounded like a wonderful reprieve.
"I don't know," Joshua frowned. "Do you think we can get along without him for one day, Nathan?" He winked at his eldest to let him know he was teasing Jake.
"Well, Pa." Nathan scratched his head like he was thinking on it real hard.
"Oh, pleeaassseee," Jake begged, making his face look as pathetic as possible.
"I reckon we could," Nathan finally said.
"Well, then, I guess you're going berry picking with your ma and sister tomorrow."
Jake wanted to jump up and down in his excitement, but felt he was too old for such behavior now. Instead, he sat in his chair, beaming.
That night, there were two in the Cooper family who had trouble falling asleep - Jake, over the excitement of the next day's adventure, and Lana, over that day's.
Once she had relaxed around Two Hawks, she had studied him, and her thoughts went back to that. He moved gracefully, like a panther, with his muscles rippling through his bare chest and arms. He had surprised her when he let her feed him the berry. Whatever had possessed her to do that? Maybe it was a gesture of friendship. Perhaps it was a gesture of trust. Whatever it was, it had worked.
And when he fed her, it surprised her even more. Not just his gesture, but the way she felt when he did. There had been a gentleness in his hand that she hadn't expected. Thinking back on his smile, how his whole face softened, how he became handsome to her when they said goodbye at the river, she felt herself blushing again. This wasn't right. She shouldn't allow herself to think this way. Her pa would skin her alive if he knew! Turning over - again - she tried desperately to calm her thoughts so she could sleep.
* * *
August sped by with a velocity that only came from being too busy. There was too much to do if the Cooper family were to survive the winter. With the barn finished, the horses now had shelter. But that was only one part of the larger picture. The Cooper family rolled out of their beds each day before the sun came up, ate a cold breakfast and hurried to their respective tasks. They met again for a big lunch and then quit work through the hottest part of the afternoon. There would be a few hours of work before sundown, at which time they ate a light supper that had been cooked during the cooler, early morning hours. Many times it was nothing more than heavy cornbread with molasses drizzled on the top. Falling exhausted into bed, they slept until time to get up and start all over again.
* * *
The Kiowa band worked just as hard. During the summer, they hunted buffalo and dried meat, tanned hides for tipis and winter clothes. Scouring the land, the women looked for anything edible that could be saved for the long, barren months ahead.
Shortly after Two Hawks met Lana at the blackberry vines, the men of his village planned a buffalo hunt and sent scouts out to locate the herd. When the scouts returned, telling of their find, the village moved to the location. The next morning, the scouts led the hunters out.
After making a final survey from a hill, one of the scouts returned, crawling backward down the slope, until it was safe to stand up. He walked over to the hunters and nodded. There were hundreds of buffalo beyond the ridge. It would be a good day.
Horses and men alike were painted with symbols of the animal they hunted, and with symbols of strength and power. Spears and lances, bow and arrows were honed and ready. Only the best horse, the best hunter, would come away unscathed from this dangerous game.
Two Hawks' horse pranced nervously underneath him, sensing the tension in the men. Many Deer sat not too far away on his own mount. Nineteen of the twenty in the party had been on hunts before. There was only one novitiate, Corn Flower's younger brother, Laughing Turtle. Sitting on his pinto, he did his best not to show his nervousness. It would be too shameful, especially in front of some of the best hunters in the entire Kiowa nation.
Broken Man lifted his feathered lance high in the air, as all eyes watched in anticipation. The lance dropped, signaling the hunters to begin their slow ride down the ridge. They rode calmly, approaching as close as they could without spooking their prey. Some had actually made their way into the midst of the large animals when one of the bull buffalo lifted his massive head and snorted his warning. The charge began as a melee of thousands of pounding hooves raised dust almost too thick to see through. Horse and buffalo began the dangerous death dance at breakneck speed.
Riding beside one of the massive beasts, a hunter looked for the spot just above or beside the animal's heart to plunge the long lance deep and stop the buffalo's charge. It took a steady, fearless horse, a steady, fearless rider to do this. Many a warrior had been trampled to death, or gored, leaving them maimed for life. This type of hunting was not for the faint of heart. But the lives of their band depended on their success that day. What was the life of one hunter weighed against the hunger of an entire village?
Laughing Turtle chose a small cow for his first kill. He rode beside it, looking for the best spot for his lance. The animal's movement made it difficult for him to aim. Finally, lifting his arm as high as he could, he plunged the lance into the running buffalo, but it didn't penetrate deeply enough. When the animal turned in mid-step and charged toward him, his horse reared. Laughing Turtle fell backward to the ground, in imminent danger of being trampled. He sprang to his feet, grabbed the buffalo's mane, and jumped on its back while he pulled out his knife. Stabbing the animal's neck repeatedly, he only made it angrier.
Two Hawks saw Laughing Turtle's dilemma and made his way to the young man. Pulling an arrow out of his quiver, he aimed carefully and sent it deep into the buffalo's left eye and brain. The animal dropped underneath Laughing Turtle, who tumbled head-over-heels at the momentum. He jumped quickly to his feet and ran back to the cow to make sure it was dead. Then he lifted his arm above his head and 'ki-yied' above the tumult to Two Hawks. With a wave of his hand, Two Hawks turned his horse around to make his third kill of the day.
After what seemed like hours of intense activity, the herd disappeared over the horizon, and the hunt was over. Warriors stood beside their prey while a call went out to the women who were anxiously waiting not too far away. The women cut through the tough hides, going straight for the livers, which were passed to the hunters' eager hands and eaten raw on the spot. Then the hard, bloody work of butchering began. That night, there would be a feast and a dance to honor the buffalo.
* * *
Two Hawks proudly joined the festivities,
but not as proudly as Laughing Turtle or his parents. Making his first kill, even with Two Hawks' help, was a big achievement. Hadn't he faced the danger, ridden into the herd, and used his lance? The women in his family sang his praises as Laughing Turtle sat there, beaming.
Corn Flower had heard the entire story of the rescue by Two Hawks from her brother. When she could, she made her way over and knelt beside him.
"Thank you for helping my brother," she said quietly, as she looked down at the ground.
"He didn't need much help," Two Hawks said generously. "He was very brave today."
Corn Flower looked directly into Two Hawks' eyes and smiled her gratitude. She knew without his help, her mother, her sisters, and she would be singing a dirge rather than a victory song that night. Reaching out, she touched the back of his hand and then stood up. With a full heart, he watched her cross the ground toward her friends. Perhaps tonight he would ask her to walk with him by the cottonwood trees. Perhaps tonight he would tell her how he felt about her. Perhaps tonight...
But, as his mind filled with these wishful, love-filled thoughts, another young brave, Iron Crow, walked over to Corn Flower and held his hand out. She took it as she rose to her feet, and the two walked out of the circle of firelight. Scowling, Two Hawks also stood and stomped back to his mother's tipi. He hadn't seen that coming.
* * *
The Kiowa elders decided to live in peace with the Coopers as long as the Coopers lived in peace with them. They based part of their decision on the possibility that Lana was a medicine woman.
Broken Man, Crying Fox and Two Hawks went to trade with the Coopers again a few weeks later. This time, they took fresh venison to barter for coffee, beads and two axe handles. Joshua hadn't had time to do much hunting, so the fresh meat was gladly welcomed. Also, he wanted to try out his new smokehouse, and this gave him the perfect opportunity.
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