by Karen Kay
“It’s been almost a week now.”
Kristina turned away, her complexion almost white. A week ago. That had been when she’d experienced the strange headache that wouldn’t go away—a headache to the left side of her head. Two days ago, it had abated.
Coincidence? Or was she somehow attuned to Tahiska’s body, sympathetically mimicking his condition?
She felt nothing now. What did it mean? Was he well or was he…?
Kristina spun around and, turning to her pony, she mounted. She glanced at her father. “Let’s return to the fort.”
“Kristina, I…”
“There’s nothing here. If he is still alive, he will return for me. I will have to wait for him to seek me out.”
“Wait,” Major Bogard implored. “Let’s stay here a moment. I need to talk to you.”
Just when she would have kicked her horse into motion, she pulled back. She gazed at her father. “Why?”
He sighed, shifting in his saddle. Finally, he dismounted, leading his horse and hers to a tree, and there he tethered them. He helped Kristina dismount and, leading her to a nearby log, he motioned for her to sit. Smiling at her, he announced, “We need to rest and have a bite to eat before we start back anyway, and I think there are some things I had best tell you, or rather warn you of.”
Kristina didn’t answer. She merely gazed expectantly at him.
He sighed. “Let me start a fire.”
“There’s no need,” she said, staying him with her hand. “I have plenty of wasna and jerky. It will get us through the afternoon.”
The major turned to her and took a seat beside her on the log, accepting the jerky from her. “Thank you,” he said, biting it and collecting his thoughts as he chewed. Finally, he inquired, “Have you spoken to your mother recently?”
Kristina shook her head.
“She spoke to me a few weeks ago, just after the ball.” He paused. “She has asked me to arrange for the two of you to return to Boston,” he continued. “Are you aware of this?”
Again, Kristina replied in the negative.
“You should know, Kristina, that your mother is aware of your fascination. She is planning to take you away from here with or without my help. She blames me, she blames the fort, she can see nothing but evil in the Indian. If your young brave is still alive, and you plan to leave with him, you had best sneak away and never return.”
Kristina, dumbfounded at her father’s words, took a moment to answer. “I understand,” she said at last.
Her father nodded and, with this said, he rose. Tramping toward the horses, he stopped to glance back at his daughter. “Let’s leave now.”
Kristina nodded her assent and, despite her upset, she managed to smile. “I appreciate your advice. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”
Even filled with his own misgivings, the major grinned back.
“I think we should just return home.” Neeheeowee spoke in Cheyenne.
“I can’t leave without her.”
“Then take her. She is yours. Why do you go to all this trouble to persuade her?”
Wahtapah sighed. “We’ve been through all of this before.”
Tahiska grinned at his friends. They had stopped at the summit of a high bluff, all three Indians taking the time to admire the beauty. They were up so high that the prairie appeared to roll and stretch all around them. Birds flew overhead in the breeze, enjoying the warmth of an Indian summer.
Tahiska raised his face toward the sun to bask in its glow and to thank Wakan Tanka for giving life back to him.
He pressed a hand to his head, where a poultice still protected the wound. Tahiska wasn’t sure just what had occurred, only that he had awakened to find both Wahtapah and Neeheeowee leaning over him, watching him intently. From that time forward, though, Tahiska had recovered swiftly and within only a few days had been able to travel. There was only one other thing he had to do before he returned to his home.
“The white man didn’t understand the intentions of our cousin,” Wahtapah was explaining to Neeheeowee as though talking to a child. “He didn’t know the meaning of the gifts, nor has he approved of this union.”
“This time there will be no mistake,” Tahiska finished for him.
“But you’ve only just recovered,” Neeheeowee advised.
“You sound like an old woman, friend.” Tahiska laughed. “I’m fine. And you have found your powers. Besides, would you have me give you nothing for your efforts?”
“I would accept any gift you choose to give me, even the gift of returning home.” Neeheeowee smiled.
All three laughed.
“We will return home soon, but first…”
“I know,” Neeheeowee interrupted, glancing off into the distance. “We should find a camp of Pawnee at any time now, since this is their season to make meat. There we will find your bride price—their horses. And we will take them in an honorable way.”
Wahtapah, who was also anxious to be away, gazed off into the distance. “Come, let’s see if we can find a trail.”
The others agreed and together all three set their ponies to descend the bluff.
Chapter Twenty
Tahiska crouched down low on his stomach, peering out over the crest of the hill. He couldn’t believe their luck; they had found a small Pawnee encampment within hours after setting out to look for it. They’d awaited darkness, when the three of them had crept steadily forward, making no sound until they reached this hill overlooking the Pawnee camp. They now lay hidden. They had every intention of attacking the encampment and capturing the ponies.
The three friends had watched the camp most of the afternoon, familiarizing themselves with their enemy, setting their plans. They had decided there were only a few things in their favor: the element of surprise, their strategy, and their youthful eagerness. They were outnumbered three to eight.
Tahiska’s gaze scanned the ponies in the camp below him. There were probably not more than twenty, but that would suit his purposes. It was unusual for even the best warrior to present such a gift.
Tahiska was determined. This time there would be no doubt as to his intentions. In his dealings with the white man so far he was finding himself often misunderstood.
Not this time.
This time all within the fort would know his intent. He was finished with hiding, with keeping secret his love as though it were shameful. He felt free now. His business was concluded; he could now claim his bride.
Kristina. He smiled just thinking of her, then shook his head to clear her image from his mind. He could afford no distraction. Too much depended upon this raiding party’s success.
He had been gone from Kristina too long and he had not parted with her under the best of terms. She had angered him in a time when he needed her strength and further enraged him when her loyalty seemed doubtful. He wondered if she worried over him now. He knew her father had suddenly left their campsite, having learned of their marriage. It was possible the major had told her he may be dead.
It made him all the more anxious to return to her. Would she think he was dead? And if so, would she mourn him?
Locating the much needed horses had proven more time consuming than Tahiska had at first expected. They had needed to await a small Pawnee raiding party, since attacking the rival’s main encampment would mean pure suicide. Finally, they had found such a party. Even so it had taken precious moments to lay down their plans. In the early hours of the evening their strategies were drawn, their plans complete.
Now they only awaited the silence of a sleeping enemy.
Tahiska signaled to the others in sign.
All moved into position.
There were two braves stationed to guard the encampment. One stood high upon the hill surveying the encampment and the surrounding area. The other reclined low, watching over the ponies. The horses were tethered at the western side of the encampment while five to eight ponies were tied outside the hunting lodges below.
&n
bsp; The young warriors’ plan was simple, yet dangerous.
Wahtapah and Neeheeowee signaled their readiness. All awaited only the alert from Tahiska.
Tahiska signaled.
Wahtapah hurled a rock toward the outside guard. It hit the ground about ten feet away from his position.
Instantly the guard was alert. Cautious now, he crept forward.
Tahiska sprang in front of him, and while the guard swung into battle, Wahtapah hit him from behind before any sound could be uttered.
Neeheeowee scrambled down the cliff toward the horses and the remaining guard, while Tahiska dashed toward the encampment. After securely restraining the first guard, Wahtapah followed Neeheeowee to assist him with the second guard. The horses whinnied. The second guard rose, peering into the darkness. The two young Indians bounded at him, leaving him unconscious and constrained while they crept among the ponies, snipping their rawhide ropes. They each selected one pony, then crouching down on the ground, they awaited word from Tahiska.
Tahiska stole into the camp. Quickly, he assessed that there were eight ponies in all, separately tethered before individual lodges. If he could cut loose the closest four without awakening the dogs, he stood a good chance of releasing the other four at the far side of the camp before the Pawnee could react.
The success of his plan was vital since their lives depended upon ensuring that no Pawnee could follow their retreat.
Brushing prairie grass all over his body to cover the man-scent, Tahiska crept forward. Years of practice and highly honed skills stood him in good stead. He made no sound.
He cut loose one horse and another with virtually no sound. But as he approached the third pony, a single dog howled. Tahiska leaped into the shadows. He waited patiently for the stirrings of life from within the lodge, but when nothing was forthcoming, he slipped forward, releasing the third and then the fourth pony.
He raced across the camp. Another dog howled, a pony snorted, another whinnied. Tahiska was beyond caring.
Sprinting to the second group of ponies and snipping each rope as he came to it, Tahiska burst forth with his war whoop.
Immediately Wahtapah and Neeheeowee spurred all the horses at the far western side of the camp into a gallop due east, straight through the Pawnee encampment.
The frightened animals ran, stampeding the campsite. Dust and prairie grass swirled into the air, effectively blinding the Pawnee warriors who, weapons in hand, dashed from their lodges. But the bewildered warriors saw literally nothing of the young Sioux braves.
When the dust finally settled, the three triumphant warriors had long since fled and were even now galloping wildly over the plains, all twenty mounts counted among their prize. They ran the ponies steadily through the night and all through the next day. Not only did they wish to avoid confrontation with other tribes, but Tahiska felt more than a little hard pressed to claim his bride. Too much time had passed. He wanted to return home with her by his side.
Tahiska scanned the ponies. Perhaps the size of the gift would smooth the way for him, excusing his long absence.
They rode onward without resting until, only a few hours from the fort, they halted long enough to wash and prepare themselves to meet the white man.
“You dropped a stitch there, Kristina.”
Kristina grimaced. “I’m afraid it’s not the first. My mind is not entirely focused on our quilt.” She cast Julia an unsettled glance. “I can’t help but wonder what they’re talking about. I feel it bodes ill for me.”
Julia nodded. The two young women sat quietly in the parlor downstairs, an enormous quilt strewn between them, while upstairs Kristina’s mother spoke with a Mr. Carpenter, the owner of a wagon and team of horses. After what her father had told her, Kristina felt leery of her mother’s activities, especially in circumstances such as this.
“It is rather daunting, isn’t it? Do you suppose they’re planning to whisk you away today?” Julia asked, glancing up at her friend. “Oh, Kristina, I’m sorry. I was only joking.”
“I know. It’s just…” She choked on the words. She swallowed convulsively, then continued. “It’s just that I don’t know how much longer I can keep putting her off. She tells me every day, that she plans to return to Boston. I’m afraid someday I might give in from sheer exasperation.”
Julia smiled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
Kristina bit her lip, trying to keep it from quivering. Perhaps she would feel more confident if she knew what had ultimately happened to Tahiska. Was he alive and well and just no longer cared about her, or had he fallen victim, after all, to his wound? Two weeks had passed since she and her father had ridden to the Indian encampment and still there was no word from anyone in the least about him.
Deep within her soul, Kristina felt he still lived; she sensed that she would know if it were otherwise. But without confirmation, she worried. There were times when she didn’t care if she ever saw him again, just as long as he were alive and well. The idea of living in a world where he no longer drew breath hurt too much to even consider.
Julia looked at Kristina’s disconsolate gaze and guessed what she was thinking. “Something has happened to delay them. I’m sure that’s the case, Kristina. I don’t think he would leave you, and I don’t believe the others would walk away without giving you word of him.”
“Perhaps we credit them with too much. Maybe what I had with him is all that I’ll ever know. He once said that to me. I didn’t believe him then. Now I think he did truly divorce me.”
Saying nothing, Julia simply placed her hand over Kristina’s. At length, she whispered, “I don’t think so.”
Kristina brushed the tears away, turning her head to smile shakily at Julia. “You’ve changed, haven’t you? You can now appreciate the wonderful friendships we made with them.”
“Yes.” Julia grinned. “And I cringe to think I almost passed up the opportunity. Without your influence, I would have judged them without even giving them a chance to prove my prejudice wrong. I’ll never do that again.”
“What does Kenneth think of your friendships with the Indians?”
“He doesn’t know. There’s no reason to tell him. It’s not like we’re married. Besides, he has no right to dictate my feelings to me.”
“Ah, I see and…”
“Shh! I hear something. Kristina, I think your mother is coming.”
Kristina sat up straighter, pinched her cheeks to draw color into them, and rubbed any remaining tears from the corners of her eyes.
“Hello, young ladies.” Margaret Bogard spoke from the parlor’s entrance, with Mr. Carpenter standing at her elbow. “Kristina, I have some good news for you.”
Kristina glanced up then, pretending indifference. “How nice.” Responding in monotone, and without further comment, Kristina bent her head back down over her work.
“Mr. Carpenter and I have been discussing arrangements to return home,” Margaret Bogard announced, not at all put out by Kristina’s lack of enthusiasm. She swept into the room, escorted by the older gentleman. “I’ve rented Mr. Carpenter’s carriage and horses to return us to St. Louis. From there we can book passage home. And this kind gentleman has agreed to start out within the week. Just think, dear, within only a few months we can be back in Boston, away from this horrible place and these terrible savages.”
Kristina held her tongue for several minutes. In truth, she sat entranced. Savages? Never. She looked away. Smiling, she remembered the love and warmth she’d shared with her husband, the care and concern she received from his friends. Savages? She had learned more about love these last few months than she had envisioned in all her earlier years.
Images danced in front of her eyes: Tahiska laughing, teaching her to swim, challenging her to track, daring her to love him. He had even saved her life on more than one occasion, and he never asked for anything in return. Savage?
She belonged here. She had felt it from the start when her heart was captured by the land, by these people. Home? She
was already home. She would never leave.
Kristina glanced at her mother. She smiled, then calmly asserted, “I know you’ve gone to much trouble, Mother, but I am already home. I don’t wish to leave.”
“Nonsense, you just don’t know your…”
“No! I love this land. I love these people. I belong here, not back east. You go ahead. You’ve always wanted to return to Boston, so go on. We can write, you and I.”
“Why I never… I mean I couldn’t possibly…”
The sound of stampeding horses interrupted Mrs. Bogard’s shocked reply. All glances swung to the window and at the sound of high-pitched war whoops, Kristina and Julia grinned. The quilt forgotten, they dropped it to the floor, both jumping up and running to the window.
“They’ve returned!” Julia hugged Kristina.
“I don’t see him, Julia. I only see Wahtapah and Neeheeowee. What if he’s not with them, what if he’s…”
“He’s here… I’m sure of it.”
Kristina inhaled deeply. “Will you come outside with me?”
“Of course.”
Ignoring her mother and Mr. Carpenter, Kristina mustered her courage, finally swinging the door open. Both she and Julia peered outside.
There must have been fifteen to twenty horses, all standing before her, but her eyes were immediately drawn to him, where he sat astride one grey pony while he led two other mounts behind him. He looked more handsome than she had ever envisioned him, and Kristina felt faint with relief, grabbing Julia’s arm to steady herself.
He saw her. Immediately he jumped from his pony, keeping the reins of all three ponies in his hand. He came to stand directly in front of her.
He didn’t smile. He gave no indication of his feelings at all, and Kristina might have thought he felt nothing for her, until she looked him in the eye.
Suddenly it was all there. His love for her, his devotion.
“I have missed you,” he spoke in Lakota. “When I left you before, I forgot that without you, I would have no sunshine. I lied, Kristina. I could no more walk away from you than I could take my own life. I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you be my wife?” He held out his hand to her, palm up.