Savage Skies

by Cassie Edwards

  “I wish I could go with you,” Shirleen said. She sat up and pulled a soft blanket around her shoulders as she watched Blue Thunder quickly don his fringed buckskin clothing, and then his fringed moccasins.

  She stood up, and the blanket fell to the floor around her feet. She wove her fingers through the thick locks of his hair, straightening it so the strands hung long and smooth down his back.

  He swept his arms around her waist and drew her powerfully to him. “It is best that you stay and wait for your daughter to be brought to you,” he said hoarsely. “And I promise you that she will be with you, soon.”

  She clung to his neck and pressed her cheek to his powerful chest, the buckskin of his shirt soft against her face. “I will miss you so,” she murmured, near tears. “I will pray for you and your warriors, and also for Speckled Fawn, the dear, courageous woman that she is.”

  “I will take the memory of what we just shared with me,” Blue Thunder said, his eyes twinkling as he gazed down into hers. “Those memories will sustain me until we are together again in our blankets. My woman, I say to you that this will be soon. Your daughter will be sleeping near us in her own nest of blankets in this lodge. We will hang a blanket to secure both her privacy and ours when it comes time to go to our beds.”

  “I will hold on to that thought while you are gone,” Shirleen said, smiling into his eyes.

  “Dress, my woman, so that you can see me off,” Blue Thunder said, hurrying to his cache of weapons.

  As Shirleen dressed, Blue Thunder sheathed a knife at his waist.

  Then he grabbed up his rifle and returned to Shirleen, who was now fully clothed.

  “I am ready,” she said softly. “I will try not to allow myself to worry too much while you are gone.”

  “Worrying is for the weak,” Blue Thunder said firmly. “And, woman, you are anything but weak.” His eyes roamed slowly over her; then he chuckled as he gazed into her eyes again. “You might be tiny, but you are not weak. You have proven to me that you are a woman of much passion . . . much courage.”

  She blushed and laughed softly, then left the tepee with him.

  Just as he started to mount his steed, which had been readied for him by a small brave whose role it was to tend to Blue Thunder’s horses, someone came running up to him.

  Blue Thunder turned and gazed at Moon Star, the woman who had been left in charge of Dancing Shadow while Speckled Fawn was away. Then he looked at Speckled Fawn, who was already mounted on her steed beside Blue Thunder’s.

  “What is it?” Blue Thunder and Speckled Fawn said in almost the same breath.

  “Dancing Shadow has taken a turn for the worse,” Moon Star said, and a strange silence fell suddenly all around her.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  As sweet and musical

  As bright Apollo’s lute,

  Strung with his hair,

  And when love speaks,

  The voice of all the gods

  Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.

  —SHAKESPEARE

  The news had rendered everyone silent. Of course they had known that Dancing Shadow could not live much longer, but the fact that he had worsened tore at each of their hearts.

  Even Shirleen felt a deep sadness, for although she had never known Dancing Shadow except by reputation, she knew that his passing would bring much sadness into the village.

  Without further hesitation, Speckled Fawn hurried toward her home. Shirleen and Blue Thunder walked quickly behind her.

  When they arrived at the lodge, they stopped, then quietly crept inside together. The sun filtered peacefully through the smoke hole overhead, looking mystical as the slowly rising smoke from the lodge fire bled into it.

  Shirleen stayed just inside the lodge door while Blue Thunder and Speckled Fawn went to kneel at Dancing Shadow’s side.

  Speckled Fawn stifled a sob behind a hand as she gazed down at her husband, lying there so motionless. She had seen him like this several times before, and she hoped this occasion was no different from the last. Then he had also seemed to take a turn for the worse, but awoke a few hours later, smiling. He was once more his usual quiet self, not ready to die just yet.

  “I believe it is the same as before,” Blue Thunder said, placing a gentle hand on his uncle’s brow, which was cool to the touch.

  He looked over at Speckled Fawn. He saw deep concern in her eyes, proving once again how much she loved her elderly husband.

  “Speckled Fawn, I believe your husband is in one of his deep sleeps,” he explained. “I do not believe that he will die anytime soon because I have seen this many times before, just as you have. He slides peacefully into a sleeping stage such as he is in now, but awakens none the worse for it.”

  “But, my chief, we cannot be sure,” Speckled Fawn said, reaching out to smooth the blanket that was spread over her husband.

  She turned to Blue Thunder. “I truly do not know what to do,” she said, searching his eyes for answers. “What if this is not one of those sleeps? What if he does not awaken this time? You know as well as I do that it is going to happen one of these days. He . . . is . . . not at all well.”

  “You must do what your heart tells you to do,” Blue Thunder said thickly. “But remember this, Speckled Fawn: A child’s life hangs in the balance. I do not doubt that at all. If we do not carry out today the plan we have made to rescue her, we may lose any opportunity to do so. If the child’s father leaves with her on a riverboat, she will disappear from her mother’s life forever.”

  Speckled Fawn lowered her eyes.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  In her mind’s eye she was seeing the scars on Shirleen’s back. She believed that the man who had caused them would eventually do the same to his daughter, if not worse.

  Oh, good Lord above, she did not know what to do.

  She had told her husband she would be there for him always. Yet she had promised Shirleen she would go and help rescue Megan.

  She weighed both promises inside her heart and realized that the child must come first. She still had a long life ahead of her, whereas Speckled Fawn’s husband had had his life, a wonderful one as his people’s shaman.

  Knowing what she must do, what her heart prompted her to do, Speckled Fawn stood quickly and went to Shirleen.

  She took both of Shirleen’s hands in hers. “Will you sit with my husband while I am gone?” she asked, trying to hide her conflicting emotions. She did not want Shirleen to know just how difficult was this decision she had made.

  She did not want Shirleen to think she would go to rescue Megan with only half a heart. Speckled Fawn wanted to look strong.

  She wanted Shirleen to believe that soon she would see her daughter again!

  Shirleen could hear the neighing of horses just outside the lodge. They belonged to the men who waited for their chief to depart for Fort Dennison.

  Then she was keenly aware of voices talking softly, also outside the lodge.

  She knew that the entire village had heard how Dancing Shadow had gone into a deep, silent sleep. The people of the Wind Band had come to pay their respects, if necessary.

  She knew that everyone loved this old man and would do anything for him, as well as for his wife Speckled Fawn. They all knew how dutiful and loving she had been to him since their marriage.

  Shirleen knew that while Speckled Fawn was away from the village, helping to rescue sweet Megan, she would not be alone while she sat at the elder’s side. The entire village would be there, just outside the lodge.

  “I will sit with him and care for him while you are gone,” Shirleen said. She felt the strength in Speckled Fawn’s arms as she flung them around Shirleen’s neck, hugging her.

  “Thank you,” Speckled Fawn murmured. She stepped away from Shirleen, but still held her hands. “Know this, Shirleen. I will do everything I can to rescue your daughter from that madman. And I know that it must be done in haste, for once that man is on the riverboat, there will be no way o
f stopping him. I cannot allow Megan to be lost to you forever.”

  Shirleen hugged the other woman almost desperately. “I shall forever be grateful,” she sobbed. “Thank you, thank you.”

  “We must go now,” Speckled Fawn said, stepping away from Shirleen.

  She turned to Blue Thunder, who was now standing beside her husband’s bed. “I will be ready as soon as I give my husband a kiss and explain to him what I am going to do. Although he cannot hear me, he will understand. He would want me to leave, to help rescue a child. He has always loved children so much. He would have been a good father.”

  “While serving his people as shaman, he never gave in to his desires to have a wife. His duties to his people always came first with him,” Blue Thunder said, going to her. “You gave him what he never had. You are a good woman, Speckled Fawn. I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable at times. I know now what a very good woman you are. You were a perfect choice for my uncle.”

  “You have no idea how I appreciate what you are saying,” Speckled Fawn said, wiping tears from her face. “I hope after we return from the fort that you will have another reason to think highly of me. I am determined to help get Megan away from that horrible man and bring her back to the loving arms of her mother.”

  “We shall do that together,” Blue Thunder said fervently.

  He stepped aside. “Speckled Fawn, say good-bye to your husband, for we must leave immediately.”

  Then as Speckled Fawn knelt to speak to Dancing Shadow, Blue Thunder went to Shirleen and drew her into his gentle embrace.

  “Do not despair while we are gone,” he whispered into her ear. “Soon you will have your daughter back with you. I promise you, my woman, that I will see to it.”

  “I have no doubt that I will have Megan with me again, because I know the strength of your word, as well as Speckled Fawn’s,” Shirleen said. She clung almost desperately to this man who was going to be putting himself and his warriors into danger for her daughter’s sake.

  She knew that he thought it wise to avoid fighting and confrontation with whites at all costs. The fact that he was risking everything for her and Megan touched her heart deeply.

  She would not allow herself to feel guilty for having pulled this wonderful young chief into a possible confrontation with the cavalry.

  But, how she dreaded the fact that her beloved would be riding into danger. “I will pray for you and Speckled Fawn and my daughter until your return,” she murmured.

  She eased herself from his arms and turned to gaze down at Speckled Fawn, who was leaning over Dancing Shadow and giving him one last parting kiss.

  Shirleen was deeply moved by the sight of the love that Speckled Fawn had for her elderly husband.

  Speckled Fawn rose to her feet and came to Blue Thunder and Shirleen. “I am ready,” she said firmly. “I have said good-bye to my husband. I . . . I . . . truly believe that he, somehow, heard me.”

  She turned to Shirleen and gazed intently into her eyes. “Thank you for sitting with my husband in my absence,” she said.

  “I just can’t thank you enough for what you are doing for me and my daughter,” Shirleen said softly. “And believe me when I say that while you are gone, I will not leave your husband’s side.”

  They hugged, and then Blue Thunder and Speckled Fawn departed. Shirleen did not even step out of the tepee long enough to watch them ride away, for she did not want to leave Dancing Shadow unattended for even a moment.

  She hurried to him and sat down on the soft mats beside the bed of pelts.

  Soon Shirleen heard the thundering of hooves and knew that Blue Thunder and Speckled Fawn would be riding side by side, while the warriors followed behind them.

  She knew that many hides would be tied to the packhorses, to be offered for trade. This trading was the reason that would be given the sentries to get Blue Thunder and his men into the fort.

  Shirleen smiled as she thought of how Speckled Fawn was dressed for her role in this plot. Speckled Fawn was not wearing her usual Indian attire today. Instead, she was dressed in some of the clothes that had been stolen by the renegades.

  She would look the part of a distraught white woman who’d lost everything but her life at the hand of renegades.

  Knowing she had many hours to wait before she would learn whether Megan had been saved from her abusive madman of a father, Shirleen tried to focus on the elderly sleeping man.

  She took his hand and gently held it. She hoped that if he felt her hand in his while he slept, he might believe it was his wife’s.

  She did not speak, for if he was aware of things at all, he would realize that the voice was not his wife’s.

  Instead, she began humming.

  She remembered how her mama long ago had sat beside the elderly people of her church when they became gravely ill, humming to them.

  Her mother had said that if nothing else could reach inside the heart of those who were near death, soft music might.

  Shirleen’s eyes widened, for if she wasn’t wrong, Dancing Shadow had just given a fleeting smile.

  She smiled too, glad in the belief that she was helping this old man in at least a small way.

  She continued humming church hymns, trying to remember the songs she had heard her mama humming.

  “The Old Rugged Cross” had been her mama’s favorite.

  She began humming it, for perhaps it would become Dancing Shadow’s favorite, too.

  Although she was doing what she could to keep busy in her hours of crisis, Shirleen could not stop wondering about whether she would ever see her child again.

  Oh, surely she would!

  Had not Blue Thunder promised her that it would be so?

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Serene I fold my arms and wait.

  —Burroughs

  After seeing that Speckled Fawn was well hidden in the trees outside Fort Dennison, Blue Thunder and his warriors rode onward toward the tall walls of the fort, their packhorses heavily laden with plush pelts.

  After arriving at the gates of the fort, Blue Thunder and his men stopped, except for two who approached the two white sentries standing guard.

  Blue Thunder sat stiffly in his saddle as he waited for his warriors to do their normal report to the sentries of how many warriors were in their party, and how many skins were being brought for trade.

  Although this was the routine whenever they came to the fort for trade, Blue Thunder’s jaw tightened. Today they had much more to accomplish than trade.

  Once inside the walls of the fort, he would have to behave normally, bargaining for supplies in exchange for his furs, while his mind and eyes would be on other things.

  While exchanging small talk as well as food and smokes with the colonel in charge, Blue Thunder would be watching for a blondhaired, blue-eyed man who fit the description of his woman’s husband, as well as the child who was reported to be with him.

  He hoped the plan would all go smoothly, for he did not want to return to his home, or Shirleen, empty-handed.

  Still waiting, and observing what was happening at the closed gates, he saw one of the pony soldiers hand over a packet of tobacco, which would be brought to Blue Thunder with an invitation for his party to proceed into the fort. Even now the gates were being opened as his warriors rode back toward him.

  Proud Horse came up beside Blue Thunder, stopped, then handed over the buckskin packet of tobacco.

  “We are welcome to trade,” Proud Horse said quietly. “But I have news, and I am not sure whether it is good or bad.”

  “And what news is this?” Blue Thunder asked as he took the tobacco packet and tied its drawstrings to the waistband of his fringed breeches.

  “I think the news is good, and I believe you will think so, too,” Proud Horse said, slowly smiling. “My chief, there is a new colonel in charge of Fort Dennison, replacing the one who has been known to say he would proudly spit on all Indians if he had the chance. The young sentry who gave me the tobacco seem
ed proud to say that the new colonel is one who is kind and who strives for peace.”

  “That is good . . . if it is true,” Blue Thunder replied, always skeptical of news that was said to be good and should make the red man happy.

  He had heard of such tricks before, of leaders who were said to be good-hearted toward Indians, and then killed and even scalped them at the first opportunity.

  “His name is?” Blue Thunder asked. He was proud to know many of the colonels in charge, who traveled from one fort to another.

  “Colonel Cline,” Proud Horse said. “Colonel Harold Cline.”

  “It is a kindly sounding name, though not one I know. I hope the man himself is kind as well,” Blue Thunder said. He turned to address his other warriors. “We have been given an invitation to enter the fort walls. We shall go in now. But you know what role you must play while we are there, besides making a good trade. You are to watch for a white man such as Shirleen described to us. Also notice whether a white child of my daughter’s age is with this man.”

  Everyone nodded, and then Blue Thunder pointed the way forward and they all rode into the fort. Since Blue Thunder was a well-known and admired chief who strived for peace with white people at all times, he was greeted with the usual recognition of such a leader. The American flag was raised and cannons were fired to announce his arrival.

  The first time that had happened, Blue Thunder had been alarmed by the pony soldiers’ response. He had thought he was being mocked and was riding into the face of danger.

  But after he’d heard the commander’s explanation of the salute, he had realized that he should be proud of such a greeting, not angry, afraid, or suspicious.

  Now he smiled and nodded at the soldier who was raising the flag, and then at the one who had fired the cannon.

  Trusting the white pony soldiers’ intentions, and also having faith in the commander whom Blue Thunder had not yet met face-to-face, he rode on inside the fort walls. His warriors and their heavily laden packhorses followed him.