by J. R. WRIGHT
With that, tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. “Yes, I did love him, and still do. But that doesn’t matter now. Luke is dead. The sooner you realize it, the better off you will be…”
“I don’t want to realize it! In my heart, he is not dead! I still think he is alive out there somewhere, Sarah. I can feel it! I can feel him!”
“Me too! But that doesn’t make it so!” Sarah rose to her feet and drew the smaller woman in. “He’s in your heart because that’s where the pain of loss is. In time, that will pass. The pain will pass, leaving only the love. Treasure that, Breanne, for the remainder of your days. Glory in the sweet memories. Be thankful you were loved by such a special man.”
Accepting it now, Breanne began to bawl. Sarah did likewise, and the two of them clung to one another, each in her own sorrow.
“Did he love you, too?” Breanne said after a time.
As much as Sarah wanted to believe he did, she knew better. “No, honey. That man only had one love in his life, and that was you. He told me that in so many words.”
“He did?” Breanne pushed back and wiped away the tears.
“He did. His words were, ‘I think of Breanne as my wife, and always will.’ That sounded pretty clear to me!” Now she wondered if in her attempt to comfort Breanne, she had said too much.
“Did you bed with him?” Breanne asked softly.
“I wanted to,” Sarah said. “Why wouldn’t I? He was a desirable man.”
“Yes, he was,” Breanne said, almost too casually. “If you had, it would be okay by me. It may have been a comfort to him in his time of sorrow. That’s the way I feel about it.”
Sarah had no notion where Breanne planned to go with this. But no way would she say any more on the subject. This had gone too far as it was. No sense giving her something more to grieve about. However, it was a noble thought on Breanne’s part. Putting her husband’s comfort and pleasure foremost. Now Sarah didn’t feel so bad for what she and Luke had done. In fact, she was elated for having been there for him in his time of need, now that she thought about it. Shameful – but elated none the less.
The two continued talking, mostly about Luke, for hours into the night. All the while Sarah put the finishing stitches into the white silk dress. She had no idea why Breanne would even want it now that Luke was gone. But she did. And couldn’t wait to put it on, once it was completed.
Standing before the mirror, Breanne fingered through her long golden hair while she looked herself over. “My hair was shorter then. When we were married at that wood station on the river. Effie Nelson cut it just before we left out from her and Tom Nelson’s farm to come here to Independence, where we caught the boat north. I was so happy then. Just leaving, putting all the sadness of before behind me was exciting.”
“You are so beautiful,” Sarah tossed in, meaning every word of it. In this dress, she looked like an angel.
“It rained. Did I tell you, it rained during my wedding?”
“You know, you can stay here with me,” Sarah said. “Honestly, I could use the help. My aunt has to come occasionally as it is, and she will be going back to her teaching job soon. Summer recess is near over. I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”
“I wish I had died when those Indians took me,” Breanne said. “I wanted to, then, but I didn’t.”
“And you won’t now. Life will go on. I discovered that after I lost my husband.” Sarah took up a brush and began working with her hair. “What about Harry? Have you given him any thought? He seems to be a nice, gentle, man.”
“I’ve never been to New York or anywhere east. He thinks it’s Eden, the way he talks,” Breanne said, as if considering Harry’s offer to take her with him. Of course, she had flatly refused then, but that was before she heard Luke was dead. Although, she still wasn’t entirely convinced he was. “Harry is like an itch you can’t reach. You know it’s there, but you can’t quite put a finger on it.”
Sarah laughed, and Breanne joined in with a smile.
“Maybe I will go with Harry. I mean, it’s some place to go for a while. He promised to give me all the time I need to think things through. What do you think I should do, Sarah?”
“Oh my, you can’t ask me that! That’s a decision you’ll need to make on your own. Why don’t you sleep on it? Things may look different to you in the morning.”
Even though it was a late night, the two of them were up at five the following morning, as usual. Sarah was awakened several times during the night by the sound of Breanne sobbing. This morning, however, she seemed to be her cheerful self once again.
“If you’re up to it, I would like to cut your hair before it’s time to open the shop,” Sarah said over breakfast.
“Oh, would you?” Breanne said excitedly.
“I think a foot could go and still have plenty for putting up.”
“Okay,” Breanne readily agreed.
Then, at seven, when Sarah went to lift the blinds and open the shop, Breanne stood at the full-length mirror. As usual Harry was waiting outside and charged through the door as soon as the lock clicked allowing him to do so. Seeing in the mirror, Breanne turned to face him. Her hair was done in braids pinned up, and she was in another new dress: a pale blue gingham trimmed in white lace at the hem.
Harry, mouth open, froze in admiration of her beauty.
“You best close your mouth, there’s a fly in here somewhere,” Breanne said to him with a smile.
Sarah looked on and beamed at the two of them. Harry was in his usual black and white. But not as rumpled as he usually was. He must have had the suit cleaned and pressed yesterday, during his absence. Or maybe it was new – she couldn’t – but the shirt was. It still had the fold creases, she noticed.
“Best get the tickets, Harry, before I change my mind. I’m going east with you.”
“Thank you, God!” He looked up, then marched swiftly to her and leaned in.
“I’m not going to marry you,” Breanne turned her cheek. “But, if you’ll have me as a friend, I am willing.”
“Of course…” Harry backed away, not letting his eyes leave her. “Of course… Friends…”
“Well, go!” Breanne ordered. “Now that I’ve made up my mind, I want to leave as soon as possible before I change it again.”
“Of course,” Harry said again, black hat in hand, backing toward the door.
“I’m happy for you,” Sarah said, once Harry had gone, and went to her with a hug.
“Maybe I can go there and forget,” she said. “At least there I won’t need to fear another savage Indian…” With that she began to cry hysterically and ran into the back room.
This time Sarah left her be, figuring it best she got it all out once and for all. Of course she knew that wouldn’t happen. She herself had had several hearty cries over Luke’s death. And would have another now, if it weren’t for a customer coming through the door.
Breanne, along with Harry Budd, boarded the first boat out the following morning. Sarah was at the levee to send her off. With their final waves, as the steamboat chugged away, they both knew in their hearts they would never again come face to face. This would be the final goodbye between two young women who shared a great love – shared a great loss.
AFTER THE DAWN
Book Two of the
LEGEND of the DAWN
Trilogy
AFTER the DAWN
©J.R.Wright / DKW BOOKS 2012
All Rights Reserved
Authors Note:
It is extremely important that the reader of this novel has first read LEGEND of the DAWN before starting this book. It is a part of a trilogy listed in order as follows:
LEGEND of the DAWN – Book One
AFTER the DAWN – Book Two
BEFORE SUNDOWN – Book Three
CHAPTER ONE
In the spring of 1854, when Chaska was fourteen, it became apparent Brave Fox’s health was failing. Chaska feared the only father he had ever known was dying. Much of the old chi
ef’s duties had already been taken up by a younger chieftain named Spotted Horse. Having been at the right hand of Brave Fox for many years, Spotted Horse had become quite attached to the ever present Chaska. He often took Chaska hunting and admired the boy’s courage, competitiveness, and quickness of mind. So when Spotted Horse decided to go far to the west in search of lodge poles, he was quick to ask the old chief if Chaska would be allowed to accompany him.
“My Chief, many of our people complain their lodge poles have worn short from travel. And there are others, some newly joined in marriage, that have none from which to construct tepees of their own. I have heard of a place called Paha Sapa (Black Hills) to the west, where the pine trees grow straight and tall. I plan to go there to gather the many poles needed and was hoping to have your permission to take Chaska with me.”
“In my old eyes I see Chaska has become a man. Let him decide.” The old chief turned away as if not wanting to be bothered by such small decisions. But he did plan to keep a watchful eye out to see what Chaska chose to do with this new-found freedom. He wondered now what the white woman, Breanne, of long ago, would think of her strapping young son if she were here to see him. He had regretted many times having sent her away, since that day she so sadly walked off with the red bearded man, who spit sap like the grasshopper. Some of her wild stories, when recalled, still made him laugh all these years later.
When morning light came, Spotted Horse and Chaska rode from the village. They each had four strong horses trailing behind to be used for dragging the many poles needed. But when they returned two weeks later, they brought none.
“Why have you come back without the lodge poles?” the old chief asked, surprised they had returned empty handed.
To this Chaska was quick to answer, “After seeing this land, Paha Sapa, I begged Spotted Horse to return as quickly as possible. We should waste no time in cutting lodge poles, but rather return for ailing father, so last days can be spent resting eyes on this beauty. The clear streams are filled with leaping fish, the woods have much game, and the valleys and meadows also have the great buffalo.”
‘Leaping fish?’ the old chief chuckled to himself. ‘The boy no doubt has the imagination of the mother.’
“We must go for your health, Father. You must not endure another winter on the plains. There, you will have the protection of the hills and trees from the sharp winter winds. And there, the water falls from the mountains fresh as the rain.”
Believing Chaska now, Brave Fox sat quietly in thought for several minutes before answering. Surely, he had painted a heavenly picture of that place. It sounded not so different from the place he dreamed to go when finally he departed this earth, cradled in the claws of the giant eagle. And surely Chaska had his welfare in mind, for he knew the boy loved him. And surely his people would follow if he gave the order to move. But he felt it only right that others were taken into consideration before the final decision was reached.
“Old chief cannot make this decision alone,” Brave Fox said. “We have others on the council. And there are the chiefs of our neighbors the Dakotah from the east, who may want to join us in this new place.”
“Certainly the Dakotah will approve the move,” Chaska argued. “There they will have the woods they love so dearly and speak of so often around the evening fires. And there, they will have no need to fear the push of the white man, that far to the setting sun.”
“What my son speaks is true. Surely the Dakotah will see it as you do. But that is for them to decide.”
“And if they decide not to go?”
“Then we will not go.”
“Why, my Father?”
“Without them, we are weak. The pox we suffered the year of your birth left us with few young males to grow into men. We would be foolish to go into this new land with our small numbers. Surely, there will be others on that beautiful land, who may not want to share. Without strength we may be forced back to this disgraceful place, our heads bowed in shame.”
“Go now and summon the other chiefs to the council fire tonight. Have Spotted Horse go to the Dakotah, since his woman is of their people.”
“Yes, my Father,” Chaska said and hurried away in search of Spotted Horse, who had chosen to let him go alone to convince the old chief.
“I think to make a decision quickly, we should convince each chief separately beforehand,” Chaska suggested to Spotted Horse when he found him nearby. “I will speak with our chiefs of this special place. You should go to those of the Dakotah and do likewise.”
“You are wise beyond your years,” Spotted Horse returned teasingly. “Someday you will make a fine chief yourself, if you can explain away the yellow hair you hide so well. And those bluebird eyes that drive the young maidens of the village wild.”
“Taloma says the heart determines the man. Nothing else much matters.”
“Taloma is also wise,” Spotted Horse said and strolled leisurely off toward the Dakotah village, half a mile away.
That night at the council, the decision was swift. Due largely to the glorious picture painted by Spotted Horse and Chaska of this distant land, it was unanimously agreed both villages would make the move to Paha Sapa and would begin preparing for the trip immediately.
Afterward, when Chaska told Taloma the news, she beamed with pride at her adopted son’s accomplishment. Because she was very old, Chaska assured a travois would be prepared for both her and Brave Fox.
Within a week all were ready for the journey. Since neither an adequate food supply nor the horses to carry it were available, a last minute decision was made to divide the tribes into five equal groups. These groups would travel a distance of five miles apart, thus standing a better chance of finding and gathering what game would be needed from the trail. Occasional rabbits, deer, antelope, or small numbers of buffalo could be harvested in this fashion to sufficiently feed the smaller groups. It was also agreed that if any one group acquired more meat than it could carry, they would share with others, rather than let it be left to waste on the prairie.
The lead group, situated toward the center and some distance out front, was led by Spotted Horse. This group also had charge of the old, including Brave Fox and Taloma. Because of this, the travel was slow. With the pulling of the travois and the time taken for hunting, they were lucky to cover fifteen miles in a long day.
Also as planned, each group sent out smoke signals periodically so their location would be known. On the eighth day out, the group farthest to the north presented no morning signal. After conferring with Brave Fox, Spotted Horse decided to take a small group of braves, including Chaska, to check on them.
What they saw when they rode upon the camp was total devastation. None that remained there were alive. But some apparently had been taken captive – mostly women and children. Of course, they had also taken the horses and most everything else of value.
“Ojibwa,” Spotted Horse said after a brief look around.
“How do you know?” Chaska asked.
“They use the long gun of the white man, provided by the French traders of the north,” Spotted Horse replied. “It is known the French have lived among them for many generations. Some even have blue eyes, like you, my young friend.”
When they informed Brave Fox of what had happened, he appeared very sad and asked that they summon the other chiefs for a council.
“I think we should assemble our warriors and go now while the trail is fresh,” Spotted Horse pleaded.
“This matter concerns us all. The other chiefs must be consulted before we move against the Ojibwa. They are also bitter enemies of the Dakotah, from when we all lived in the land of minnisota (many lakes). Even though it was only our people who suffered death in this raid, the Dakotah should have an equal opportunity to right old wrongs.”
“Forgive me, Father, but I must agree with Spotted Horse. If we go now, we stand a better chance of returning our people and horses. If we wait another day for a decision, it may take even more days to overtak
e them.”
“There is no wisdom in hurrying to die!” Brave Fox scolded. “My heart weighs heavy with the worry much danger lies before you. The Ojibwa are fearsome people. I wish not to chance losing either of you to them. Their methods are that of the bear. The fleshes of their enemies are often torn from their bones, then scattered about the prairie to serve as pickings for crows.”
“Do not fear for us, for we are strong and wise,” boasted Spotted Horse, standing tall.
“Then send your swiftest horseman to take the news to the village of the Dakotah, if you’re that anxious to challenge your fate. Meanwhile, gather our best warriors for the overtaking of the Ojibwa, once the Dakotah arrive.”
“Yes, Father,” Chaska accepted the decision.
Spotted Horse accepted it as well, but it was evident he wasn’t happy for the delay.
When the sun was high overhead, two hundred painted warriors with the swiftest ponies and arrow-filled quivers gathered at the central camp. But before they left, Brave Fox insisted on speaking to them. He too was painted, as if he would personally lead them into this battle with their most feared and hated enemy.
“Many years before any of us came to this earth, our fathers and their brothers fought with these people we call the Ojibwa. Throughout my life our people have battled many times with these snakes that cowardly slither about in the night. As too, have our brave brothers, the Dakotah.
“Now it is time we right the score one last time before leaving this place forever to dwell in the land of the Paha Sapa. It is my wish that you take none of the Ojibwa captive. The two of our bloods should never mix. It is also my wish that none be spared. This evil breed must be erased from this earth forever, never again to be a thorn in the sides of our combined people.
“I will ask that you follow the direction of Spotted Horse, who goes in my stead. And if he should fall, my son Chaska will proudly take his place,” Brave Fox said as he pointed them out where they stood, one on each side of him. “Now, I will await your speedy return from victory. May the spirits be with you.” That said, Brave Fox raised both hands high, which brought forth an abundance of war cries that echoed throughout the camp.