Tender savage

by Conn, Phoebe

  "You know who I ami" Viper protested loudly. He then looked around to make certain their privacy had not been invaded by others. "You know me," he then argued in a softer tone.

  "I do not," Erica insisted stubbornly. "I know almost nothing about you. Tell me why you have such light eyes, if your blood is pure Sioux without a trace of white." The hostile change in his expression frightened her then, but she knew that was too important a question to remain unasked or unanswered.

  Viper stared down at Erica for a long moment. He was tempted to refuse her request, then remembered he had just taken her for his wife. Since he thought a man should trust his wife, he knew he would have to trust her. "That is too long a story to begin here," he explained curtly. He stood up, then took her hands and drew her to her feet. Again sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her back out into the nver to wash away all evidence of their romantic interlude.

  Now that she had mentioned food, he realized he was hungry, too, and when he was satisfied they were both clean he hurried her out of the water. As he pulled up his buckskins, he thought out loud. "It is too late to hunt or fish. Let's go back to the last farmhouse we passed and see if we can find something to eat there."

  The idea of seairching abandoned farmhouses for scraps

  wasn't in the least bit appealing to Erica. "That's another thing, Viper. Where are we going to live until the uprising is settled? Or for that matter, where will we live when the war is over?" She had yanked on her chemise and pantaloons, but took the time to shake out her slips before she stepped into them.

  "I had forgotten you are a rich girl." Vif)er shook his head wearily. "All the farmers along this river have left their farms. If you must have a house, then we can live in any house you choose."

  "And if the farmer returns?" Erica asked apprehensively. "What will we do then?"

  Viper laughed at that question. "I do not think any smart farmers will ever return, and I can deal with a stupid one."

  Erica sat down to pull on her stockings, certain that was no way to make plans for the future. "I don't want to live in another man's house. I want a home of our own. You told me there were braves with white wives. Do they live in tepees or houses?"

  Viper was already dressed and stood staring down at his bride, who, in his estimation, was proving to be far too demanding. "The men with white wives are all farmers. They are 'cut-hairs' and half-breeds who have taken up white men's ways. I will never do that. That is why I am fighting. I would rather be dead than have to live as white men do." He could not forget Claw of the Badger's taunts, however. He had chosen a white wife without thinking how much criticism that action would bring. Or what responsibilities Erica would create, either. As she glanced up at him she looked so pretty and sweet he was sorry he had spoken so harshly and softened his tone. "After we have found something to eat and a place to rest, I will tell you my story. I hope then you will understand."

  When he offered his hand Erica took it, and she stood quietly as he buttoned up her dress When he stepped back, she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I do love you. Viper. I didn't mean to tease you about something so important as that, but I do want to learn every thing I can about you."

  The brave nodded thoughtfully, understanding that she was bright and therefore curious. "Yes, we each have much to learn about each other," he offered agreeably, but

  he was already wondering how to make his story sound better than it truly was. Before he could even begin with those thoughts, however, the stillness of the gathering dusk was broken by a low, threatening growl. The animal was not yet close, but close enough to inspire him to hurry. "That is a cougar. I wanted you to see a live one but I do not think this is a good time."

  "A cougar 1" Erica cried out in alarm. She scanned the riverbank with an anxious glance, hoping against hope that she would not see the animal running toward them. "Where is he?"

  "The animals come to the river at night to drink. If you are ever alone, do not make your camp close to the water or you will have company you did not invite," he advised slyly.

  Viper was grinning happily, as though being stalked by a cougar were a trifling matter. "You know so many clever things which I do not, but I will make it a point never to camp anywhere without you, be it by a river or anywhere else." She scrambled up on the horse's back without his help, but she didn't feel secure until he was seated behind her and they had returned to the road. It was nearly dark and growing cold. "We should have found a house before we," she blushed deeply then, "well, before we went swimming. What if we can't find one in the dark?"

  Viper looked up at the sky. The first of the night's stars was twinkling brightly and he was certain there would be light enough to see something so large as a house. "I have hunted nearby often. I know where the closest house is. You must trust me. Erica. I will take good care of you."

  The man apparently owned little more than the scant clothes on his back and a rifle, yet Erica did not doubt that he could indeed take care of her. "Life is very strange, isn't it? If someone had told me at Christmastime that I would move to Minnesota and fall in love with an Indian I would have thought them crazy for making such an absurd prediction. Yet here I am with you, and it does not seem strange at all."

  Viper hugged her more tightly. "We may seem a strange pair to others. Erica, but we need listen only to our own hearts, not to theirs."

  "Yes, you are right. I know you are." Erica peered

  ahead, certain the last house had to be close. She opened her mouth to restate her objection to sleeping in another man's bed, but then thought better of it. In the midst of a war conventional manners seemed totally out of place. They needed somewhere to sleep, Viper had promised to find one, and she would not complain. "Just up ahead, isn't that a house? Do you see it?"

  "That is not the best house, but it is the farthest from New Ulm." Thinking they would be safe there for the night. Viper turned the horse into the yard and pulled him to a halt. There were no lights showing, and from the eerie stillness that filled the air, he was certain the house was deserted. He slipped off the stallion's back, then helped Erica down. "I hope these people left too hurriedly to gather up all their food."

  "So do I," Erica agreed, as she continued silently to battle her conscience about trespassing. She moved up on the porch, then turned the handle and pushed the door open wide. A small furry creature dashed past her ankle, and, starded, she jumped back into Viper's arms.

  "It was only a cat," he assured her with a deep chuckle. "The people must have fled in a great hurry to leave their pet behind."

  "Are you sure it was a cat, not a skunk or raccoon?" Erica asked as she turned back toward the door.

  "No one mistakes a skunk for a cat. Erica." Thinking of the animal's disagreeable odor. Viper made a face as he moved past her. "Let me go inside first."

  Not wanting to be left outside all alone, Erica took his left hand and followed him over the threshold. When he found a lamp hanging on a peg near the doorway and lit it she relaxed only slightly. The single room was in a shambles, the floor littered with all manner of debris from torn linens to moldly bits of com bread.

  "Ek) you see what a bother a house is?" Viper asked in his familiar mocking tone. "If this were a tepee we could simply move it to another place and start over with everything clean."

  Erica shot the handsome brave a skeptical glance. "Well, this isn't a tepee, as you can well see. If you will build a fire in the fireplace I will look for a broom and begin cleaning."

  ViF>er turned away to hide his smile. He was not used to taking orders from a woman, but Erica had not really ordered him to build a fire, so he would do it without argument. The stone fireplace had already been laid with wood and he had the fire blazing long before Erica had located a broom. "Let me help you," he offered, not wanting her to be too tired to enjoy the night that lay ahead.

  "Indians must have made this mess. Will they come back?" Erica didn't want to watch him fight any more braves after the ghastly confrontation
she had witnessed that afternoon.

  Viper plucked a feather pillow from the floor and tossed it toward the bed. "I do not think so, but if some do I will send them away."

  "Like you did this afternoon?" Erica looked over the top of the quilt she was folding so she could study his expression as he answered.

  "Yes. I should be very angry at you for not doing as I said," the brave mused softly, for he still did not understand why she had not run away when he had told her to go.

  "But for some reason you aren't?" Erica coaxed coquettishly.

  "No, staying with me was a very brave thing to do," Viper complimented her sincerely, and then he began to lau^h. "I will not scold you when I may need your help agam on another day."

  Erica continued to move about the one-room house, picking up as best she could while they talked. She was delighted when she found a hairbrush, but laid it aside to use later. "Those braves were Sioux, weren't they? Why did they want to fight with you? Was it over me?"

  "Are you so spoiled you think all men wish to fight over you?" Viper teased playfully.

  "Yes, I am. Now tell me the truth. Why did those men want to fight with you?"

  Viper thought it wise not to mention Song of the Wren as he explained, "Badger is a bully who will make up an excuse to fight if there is no reason. It was the horse he was after today, not you," he lied convincingly.

  "Oh, I see," Erica commented softly, embarrassed to

  think she had misunderstood the cause of the fight. "Just where did you get that horse. Viper? His bridle belongs to the army. Did you steal him from the fort?"

  Insulted to be called a horse thief, Viper went toward the door. "The stallion was a gift from Little Crow. The bridle I took off a dead mule. I must go see the animal has a place to spend the night, too," he called over his shoulder as he stepped out the door. He needed to be alone enough to rehearse the tale she wanted to hear, and caring for the horse was reason enough to go outside. He found the bam empty, and left the horse in the first stall where someone haa thoughtfully left hay for another animal. He then went outside and sat down by the door.

  All his life he had fought to be considered wholly Indian, and now, at his first opportunity, he had taken a white wife. That made no sense at all. Yet what man of any color would not want a woman like Erica for his wife* Unable to find the answers he sought. Viper continued to badger himself with questions until the rumblings in his stomach drove him back into the house. To his amazement Erica had something cooking in an iron kettle over the fire. "What is that?" he asked incredulously.

  Erica was disappointed he hadn't noticed how nice the house looked. True, it was small, with little room fcM^ anything other than the bed and a table and chairs, but she had spent considerable effort straightening it up. "I found some potatoes and I am trying to make soup. It smells very good, but I don't know how it will taste. I think it needs milk. Did you find a cow in the bam?"

  "No, the bam is empty except for our horse." Viper walked over to the fire and looked down into the bubblmg pot. The aroma was delicious, and he picked up the ladle to give the soup a stir. "Are you a good cook?"

  Erica was embarrassed to admit she had very little exp>erience in the kitchen. "We had a housekeeper who cooked all our meals. My mother used to order the groceries and plan the meals, but Mrs. Ferguson did all the cooking. After my mother died, I was the one who did the planning, but I've never really tried to cook anything myself."

  Viper nodded thoughtfully. "It is time you learned."

  "Well, I always thought," Erica began, but then she thought better of arguing with him and fell silent.

  Intrigued, Viper wanted to know what she had been about to say. "You always thought what? Tell me," he ordered as he crossed the room to face her.

  Erica was tempted to say anything but the truth, until she realized there were probably dozens of things he would expect her to be able to do that she hadn't learned. "I always thought I'd marry Mark and have servants to do all the chores," she finally admitted. "Do Indians ever have servants?"

  Viper could not help but laugh at that question. "We used to make slaves of captives, but I do not think anyone caught during the uprising would make a good servant for you."

  "Well, of course not," Erica agreed. "I'd set them free!"

  "Yes, I knew you would. Now let's see what we can do to make your soup worth eating." Vip>er returned to the fire, hoping boilecl potatoes would not taste too bad by themselves, but to his surprise, they were quite good.

  Erica watched Viper as ne finished the last drop of soup in his bowl. While he did not have the most polished of table manners, it was plain that it was not the nrst time he had eaten at a table. "Let's sit by the fire," she suggested, but befcM-e she could move her chair he grabbed the quilt off the bed and placed it on the floor in front of the hearth. Since he obviously saw no reason for chairs, she took his hand and sat down crosslegged to face him. "Tell me about yourself. You promisedyou would."

  Viper sighed softly, reluctant to begin, but when Erica reached out to give his knee a sympathetic pat he knew he could not disappoint her. "It is my grandfather who would interest you most. He was bom in France, but his parents were not married." He paused then, hoping she would not be too shocked by that fact, but the pretty blonde only nodded, as though everyone's grandfather were a bastard.

  "His father was rich and sent him and his mother to live in Montreal. The man sent them money, but they never saw him again. When his mother died, my grandfather started trapping. He came down through the Great Lakes and into the Minnesota Territory. He learned the Sioux tongue and when he fell in love with a Sioux woman he never went back to Montreal. He and my grandmother had two sons: my father and his younger brother. My parents

  both died young, so it was my uncle and grandfather who raised me. My grandfather liked to pretend he was Sioux, but my uncle liked to go up to Canada and pretend he was a Frenchman. I went with him once and watched him do it. The women would have nothing to do with an Indian, but if a Frenchman had money, they would do anything he asked. I hated them for that," he revealed, without realizing how bitter he sounded.

  Erica knew exactly to what type of women Viper was referring, and she couldn't help but blush. "It isn't so strange that people aie frightened of Indians, but not of their own countiymen. Is that why you won't admit to being part white? Do you think people will see only an Indian and hate you?"

  Viper looked toward the fire. "I do not care what people think of me. Erica. My grandfather taught me many things about the world, my uncle still more. The missionaries taught me to speak English and how to read and write. I learned their lessons so that I would know more than any white man did, not because I wanted to be white myself. I have made the same choice that my grandfather did: I want to live my life as a Sioux. There is nothing about the white man that I admire."

  The hatred that glowed in his eyes frightened Erica badly. Then his belligerent attitude made her angry. "Nothing except his women," she pointed out with brutal honesty. "If you really believed what you are saying, then I would be the last woman you'd ever wed. You're lying, Viper, and you know it."

  Viper's hand flew to his knife, then, disgusted at himself that he would even be tempted to use it on her, he sprang to his feet. "Do not call me a liar ever again. Perhaps a white man would take that insult from his wife, but I will noti"

  Erica watched him stride out the door, uncertain if he would ever return, and at that moment, she didn't care whether he did or not. She hugged her knees and stared into the flames, wondering if their brief marriage were already over. When she grew sleepy, she looked longingly at the feather bed, and knowing she did not want to sleep in it alone, she reluctantly admitted that despite all their problems, she hoped Viper would come back, and soon.

  Viper did not go far. He wandered aimlessly around die yard for a while, then sat down again in front of the bam and leaned back against the door. He hoped he had told Erica enough to satisfy her curiosity for the tim
e being. If she found out more about him later, then he would deal with her questions then. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine what a blissful paradise her life must have been compared with his. He had not simply married a white woman, he groaned inwardly. He had married one who had been raised like a princess. It would be funny were he not so hurt about her curiosity about his background. Clearly it pleased her to think he was at least partly white, while that fact disgusted him completely. It was a flaw, which set him apart, and he did not wish to live as an outcast in anyone's world. The Sioux regarded him as a man. Whites called him a filthy Indian. Was it any wonder he scorned that part of his heritage?

  He felt a tentative tug at his thigh, and looked down to find the cat had returned. Without waiting for an invitation it climbed into his lap, turned around twice to get comfortable, then curled up m a tight ball and went to sleep. Viper was surprised the animal had approached him since he was a stranger, but the tomcat seemed so content with him that he began to pet it lightly. The cuddly animal had a striped coat like a tiger, and Viper traced the pattern of his fur with a lazy caress. The cat

  purred then, a deep rumbling hum that made Viper smile, and his anger with his headstrong bride gradually melted away.

  Without knowing exactly what he would say to Erica to excuse his long absence, Viper lifted his new friend into his arms and rose to his feet. The cat opened one yellow eye, then, seeing they were approaching the house, closed it and went back to sleep. He was a plump fellow, a good mouser who lived off field mice when there was no one at home to feed him scraps.

  Erica was adding wood to the fire as Viper entered, and his annoyance showed clearly as he spoke. "You should have waited for me to do that," he criticized with an exasF>