Savage Skies

by Cassie Edwards

  He kneaded his chin as he again gazed over his shoulder at the closed flap. “On second thought, I think I will awaken Shirleen,” he said, slowly nodding. “But I will not tell her the true reason we are riding from the village. I would rather she not be aware of what we are doing. It would fill her heart with dread. If she does not know where we are going, she will be free to have a wonderful day with her daughter.”

  “What will you tell her?” Proud Horse asked, resting a hand on his sheathed knife at his right side.

  “I am not one who lies easily, but today I must use a lie to keep trouble and fear from my woman,” Blue Thunder replied. “I will tell her we are going on a hunt for buffalo that have been sighted nearby.”

  He smiled ruefully. “In a sense that will not be a lie, for we will be on a hunt, but not for buffalo. Instead we will be hunting a man with a cruel, dark heart,” he said tightly. “You go. Awaken the warriors. Tell them to ready themselves. I will join you all as soon as I talk to my woman and arm myself for travel.”

  “It is the same as done,” Proud Horse said, stepping away from Blue Thunder.

  “Ask them to tell their wives the same thing I am telling Shirleen, so that their wives will not know anything different from what my woman will be told,” Blue Thunder instructed.

  “They will be told,” Proud Horse said, nodding.

  Blue Thunder watched for a moment as Proud Horse went first to one tepee and then another.

  He was proud to have such dutiful warriors, for each, after being told the plan, went back inside his tepee to arm himself and to explain their mission to his wife.

  Blue Thunder went back inside his tepee. He found Shirleen just rising from their bed.

  He stood there for a moment just looking at her.

  Before she had gone to bed, she had taken one of her cotton gowns from the clothes that had been brought to her. It had white lace sewn onto its bodice. Her long red hair was hanging across her shoulders, and there was a look of peace in her eyes as she caught him standing there, watching her. He was overwhelmed with such an intense love for her, he was momentarily rendered speechless.

  Shirleen saw the reverent way he was looking at her. She saw such longing in his eyes, it melted her heart. She went to him and twined her arms around his neck as she pressed herself against him.

  “I love you,” she murmured. “Thank you again, my handsome chief, for all that you have done for me.”

  She sweetly kissed him as he brought his muscled arms around her, his body straining hungrily against hers as he returned the kiss.

  He had never felt such a strong, urgent need for a woman, but he had other things that demanded his attention today.

  Making love with his woman must come later!

  He gently slid away from her.

  He framed her face between his hands as he gazed adoringly at her. “My woman, I was awakened by Proud Horse,” he said, ready to tell the necessary lie. “He has brought news of a buffalo sighting. The rising rivers, creeks, and streams have pushed them closer to our village. Although there are many other things that are important to do, we cannot turn our backs on easy meat and hides. I am certain you understand why I must leave you so early this morning.”

  “Yes, I understand,” she said softly. She was keenly aware of how many buffalo had been killed by white men to keep the Indians from having the pelts and meat for their families.

  Shirleen had seen such a kill on her way to Wyoming, and was stunned that the slaughtered buffalo had been left upon the ground to rot. She had been horrified by the cruelty and wastefulness of the act.

  “I see a future where there will be no buffalo left for the red man,” Blue Thunder said thickly, as though he had read Shirleen’s mind. “The white men are seeing to that by killing them off and not even taking their pelts or meat. They are purposely causing the buffalo to dwindle down to almost nothing because they do not want the red man to be able to hunt the animal. They believe that if the buffalo disappear, so will the red man.”

  He brushed a soft kiss across her lips, then smiled at her. “When I return, I will bring home a prime catch just for you,” he said, thinking that he was not actually lying. He would be bringing a prime catch for her, but it had nothing to do with buffalo. He would not actually be bringing Earl Mingus to her, but instead the news that the man’s evil had been stopped forever; that she could live a peaceful life from then on.

  His smile faded. “Tomorrow, if the ground is dry enough, there will be burial rites for my uncle,” he said. “We will say a final good-bye to a man who has meant so much to me and my people.”

  “I will be at your side as you bury him,” Shirleen murmured. “That is, if you will allow me to attend a function that no white person has attended before.”

  “You are a part of my life now, and a part of my people’s. It would be only right that you are with me as my uncle is laid to rest,” Blue Thunder said. Then he moved past her and changed quickly into a buckskin shirt and leggings, sheathing a knife at his waist, positioning his quiver of arrows on his back, then taking up his bow and sliding it over his left shoulder. Then he picked up his rifle and was ready to go.

  He could hear voices outside his lodge and horses’ hooves, and knew that his warriors were waiting for him.

  “I must go now,” he said as he again brushed Shirleen’s lips with kisses. “I shall return with a smile on my face over what I will catch today for you and Megan.”

  “I will be eagerly waiting, but not for the buffalo. For you, my love,” Shirleen said, flinging herself into his arms and fiercely hugging him. “I will miss you.”

  “As I shall miss you,” he said. He gave her another soft kiss, then turned and left the tepee.

  He didn’t go right to his horse, but instead to his aunt’s lodge.

  He stepped inside and found her busy cooking over her lodge fire. He went and knelt beside her, then told her the truth of where he was going, and why, but asked her not to tell Shirleen.

  Instead, he asked Bright Sun to go and keep his woman company this day.

  After his aunt agreed, he gave her a hug, then kissed his daughter and hurried outside to his saddled horse. Moments later he was riding away from the village with his warriors.

  Shirleen had stepped from the tepee and watched his departure, but had also seen him go to his aunt’s lodge before he left.

  She had wondered why he had taken time to speak with his Aunt Bright Sun, then thought surely it was to promise her food from the hunt. Shirleen knew that his aunt was his responsibility, especially since Bright Sun now kept his daughter in her lodge, being the mother Little Bee no longer had.

  Shirleen went to sit beside the fire, eager for Megan to awaken. But her child must have been extremely tired, for she still slept as deeply as she had the moment her little head had hit the comfortable pelts and blankets.

  Shirleen glanced at the closed entrance flap. She realized how silent the village had become since the warriors’ departure. It was as though the whole world had gone quiet until the warriors returned.

  Then she heard a familiar and welcome voice. Aunt Bright Sun was outside the tepee asking for permission to enter.

  Shirleen rose and hurried to the entrance flap.

  She held it aside, smiling from ear to ear. She was happy not only for the food that Bright Sun had brought to her on a wooden platter, but also because Little Bee was with her. As usual she was clinging to her special doll, made exactly like the one the child had so sweetly given to her for Megan.

  “Come inside,” Shirleen said, stepping aside. The tantalizing smell of the food made her stomach growl.

  “I have brought food and Little Bee,” Bright Sun said as she set the tray beside the fire.

  Shirleen smiled at Little Bee as the girl stood beside Bright Sun, staring at Shirleen.

  “Has your child not awakened yet?” Bright Sun asked, looking questioningly at the blanket that hung from the lodge poles. “Is she asleep behind the blanke
t?”

  Suddenly a little head peeked around a corner of the blanket; then Megan rushed to her mother.

  She wore a cute nightgown, with designs embroidered on it, which Shirleen had put on her while she slept.

  Shirleen wove her fingers through Megan’s thick, blond hair, straightening it as best she could. She would brush it later.

  “Sweetie, we have company,” Shirleen said, smiling. “The child’s name is Little Bee and the woman is Aunt Bright Sun.”

  Both children were silent for a while as they stared at one another; then Little Bee saw the doll that she had brought earlier for Megan and went to it. She picked it up, walked eagerly to Megan, and put it into her arms.

  “I have brought this doll for you to keep,” Little Bee said sweetly. “I have one just like it. Do you want to see it?”

  Megan had never been shy, and now she went to Little Bee just as the other child picked up her own doll.

  “See?” Little Bee said, still smiling. “My doll and your doll are alike. They could be sisters, just like you and I could be sisters.”

  Shirleen was stunned by what Little Bee had said. In fact, once Shirleen married Blue Thunder, Little Bee and Megan would be sisters!

  “The dolls are different from any I have ever seen,” Megan said, gazing intently at the one in her hands. “But I like it. It is cute. Thank you, Little Bee.”

  “Do you want to play dolls with me?” Little Bee asked eagerly. “I play dolls all the time with my friends. Will you be my friend?”

  “Yes, I want to be your friend, and I would love to play dolls,” Megan replied happily.

  Shirleen was amazed at how quickly the two children were bonding. Their skin and hair color were very different, but to most children, such things were meaningless.

  Adults would shun those of a different skin color. Even Shirleen had been guilty of that from time to time. She had always heard only bad things about Indians, but now she realized there were bad white people, just as there were bad red-skinned people, like the renegades who had come and killed her friends.

  The two women and the two little girls feasted on the food that Bright Sun had brought for their breakfast. The children often giggled as they ate, filling Shirleen’s heart with joy.

  But then a realization vastly different from these lovely moments came to Shirleen’s mind. At this very moment, Speckled Fawn was sitting vigil at her husband’s side, alone, sad, and possibly afraid for her future.

  Shirleen had heard Speckled Fawn worry aloud more than once about what might happen to her after her husband passed away.

  “I would like to go and check on Speckled Fawn, if you wouldn’t mind sitting with Megan for a while,” Shirleen said. “I would like to take her some of this wonderful breakfast food, too.”

  “You go to her,” Bright Sun urged, already on her feet and carrying the tray to the closed entrance flap. “Take this. I had planned to take her food later, but now is alright.”

  “Thank you,” Shirleen said. She bent low and kissed Megan. “I will not be gone long. Have fun playing dolls, okay?”

  Megan smiled and nodded, then seemed not even to notice when Shirleen left the tepee.

  Shirleen went to Speckled Fawn’s tepee and quietly spoke her name outside.

  Speckled Fawn came and lifted the flap, nodding for Shirleen to come inside. She motioned toward a thick pile of pelts.

  Shirleen sat down, and when Speckled Fawn sat beside her, Shirleen handed the tray of food to her.

  “I am not hungry,” Speckled Fawn said, ignoring the offering.

  “But you must eat,” Shirleen softly encouraged, feeling oddly out of place with Dancing Shadow there so close, so quiet, dressed in his finest attire for burial.

  “Food is the last thing I wish to think about,” Speckled Fawn said as she gazed lovingly at Dancing Shadow. “These are my final moments with my husband. I just can’t eat.”

  “I have come to see if you are alright, and to bring you food,” Shirleen said, slowly rising.

  She swallowed hard as she gazed at the old, silent man.

  She had seen many dead people before, lying in repose in their coffins just prior to burial. But seeing a dead body was never easy.

  “Thank you,” Speckled Fawn said, not rising to walk Shirleen to the entranceway. “I will remain here, keeping vigil at my husband’s side until his burial.”

  “I understand,” Shirleen said, then hurried away.

  Outside, she stopped abruptly, her mind suddenly on Blue Thunder. It was known that warriors sometimes died while on the hunt. Killing buffalo could be a dangerous pursuit.

  She shook such worries from her mind and hurried back to her tepee.

  Her thoughts went to Earl, and she wondered briefly how Blue Thunder could have forgotten about him so quickly. Surely Earl would be leaving on the riverboat today or tomorrow, depending on how high the river had risen.

  If he got away. . . . !

  No, she would not think about that.

  The most important thing was that Megan was finally with her, safe and sound, rescued from her brutal father!

  Chapter Thirty

  I’ll tell you how the sun rose . . .

  A ribbon at a time.

  —Dickinson

  Blue Thunder and his warriors had arrived just in time to see the paddlewheeler pulling in to its mooring place. They had hidden themselves and watched as several people walked across a wooden plank from the ground to the riverboat.

  Blue Thunder’s eyes looked carefully from person to person as each took his turn walking over the plank. The water splashed noisily against the sides of the boat, and lapped much higher than usual against the shore.

  A few women screamed with fear as they inched across the plank, while others remained as long as possible on dry land, almost too afraid to move.

  Blue Thunder watched the men who had also stayed behind, waiting their turn as they politely allowed the women to board first.

  Thus far he had not seen Earl Mingus among the men, yet he could see in the distance more men coming from the fort. Most of those men were uniformed soldiers, with only a few civilians among them.

  These were the ones Blue Thunder kept his eyes on. Disappointment flooded his senses when he could not spot Earl among the men.

  But still he and his warriors waited and watched, until suddenly a shrill whistling sound came from the boat. Everyone who had been waiting a turn was aboard, and the plank was now being hauled onto the ship.

  Black smoke came from its huge smokestack, and the paddlewheels began turning, sending even more water pounding against the embankment.

  The paddlewheels began turning more quickly, with water splashing from them, and the boat inched farther out toward the middle of the river. Soon it had made its way back downriver, becoming harder to see as it went farther and farther, until finally it could not be seen at all.

  “The evil man did not board the riverboat,” Proud Horse said as he sidled his horse closer to Blue Thunder’s. He glanced at the fort, then into Blue Thunder’s eyes. “What do we do now? Where should we look for him?”

  “My friend, you are trusted by the soldiers stationed at the fort, so I suggest that you go and very carefully question them about this man,” Blue Thunder said tightly. “Of course they will want to know why you ask, so you can say that he had stolen a valuable horse from your corral. They will ask you how you knew it was he who did this, and you will tell them you saw the man on your horse when you were in the fort the other day. Tell them you did not question him that day because you had to make certain the animal was yours. Say that you returned home and saw that the steed was gone, and that you now hold him accountable for the theft.”

  “That sounds like a good enough story to be true,” Proud Horse said. “These white men look down at us, but they secretly envy our freedom. We are not held to the same rules as they. If they disobey, I have heard that they are thrown in a terrible place, where rats gnaw at their bare feet. Someti
mes they are even shot. It is not the way we do things at our village. Rarely do any of our warriors complain about life as we live it.”

  “There is one warrior who tests my patience more than others, yet he still makes certain that he does nothing to cause his banishment from the tribe,” Blue Thunder said, thinking of Black Wing and the spiteful, challenging look in his dark eyes when he openly disagreed with his chief.

  “I know which warrior you are referring to,” Proud Horse said, frowning. “But Black Wing has done nothing yet to cause him to be banished from our people.”

  “He will never go that far, for he has a wife and children to consider,” Blue Thunder said, staring unblinkling at the fort. He reached over and placed a gentle hand on Proud Horse’s shoulder. “You are dependable in all ways, my warrior, so go and see what answers you can get from the white-eyed pony soldiers about Earl Mingus.”

  “It is the same as done,” Proud Horse said, reaching up and clasping his hand on Blue Thunder’s shoulder.

  Then Proud Horse wheeled his horse around and rode in the direction of the fort.

  Impatient that he would have to wait for answers, Blue Thunder sighed heavily.

  He dismounted, as did his warriors, then tethered his horse to a tree and walked away from the others to have a moment of privacy.

  As the others dutifully waited, Blue Thunder walked farther and farther into the trees, where the thick layer of fallen, damp leaves made strange, spongy sounds beneath his moccasined feet. As he walked deeper into the forest, he suddenly got a faint whiff of smoke coming from ahead.

  Curious, he walked more stealthily, his feet as quiet as a panther’s paws as he moved farther into the trees. He was keenly aware that he was leaving the protection of his warriors behind him.

  Yet he could not stop now that he had come this far. The smoke spiraled upward through the treetops ahead, as he could hear the faint sound of voices, and then throaty laughter.