Across The River

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “I have helped horses give birth,” he said suddenly. “I know what is going to happen.”

  “I am not a horse!” I screeched. “Horses drop their foals! They sometimes stand up when they do it!”

  “Not always,” Wolf assured me.

  I realized I had broken my resolve not to speak his language as we bantered back and forth about what was going to happen. Then a pain ripped through me and I let out a scream.

  I felt Wolf’s hand pushing back my hair from my forehead.

  “Do not cry out! Indian women do not cry out when they give birth.”

  “How would you know? Have you watched them give birth?” I demanded.

  “I have stood without the wigwam when women gave birth. They never cried out!”

  “I am not an Indian! I can cry out if I wish!” I screamed, just as another pain took over my senses and caused me to scream again.

  I was panting as the pain consumed me, and I realized Wolf was grasping my hand in a tight clasp.

  “Maybe horses and Indians do not cry out while giving birth but it is painful!” I informed him. “You are lucky you are a man and don’t have to go through such pain!”

  “You should have told my mother you had conceived.” he scolded. “She would have given you the herbs to take and tell you how to prepare yourself so you wouldn’t have to cry out when the birth came.”

  “Oh, of course, the Indian way is a better way!” I spit. “You want to love a white girl, but you want her to be an Indian girl! I will never be an Indian like you!”

  I had to stop talking because a new pain was taking over, and I gripped Wolf’s hand even tighter, crying out louder on purpose to irritate Wolf. Yet having him there helped to calm my fears. Maybe he would know what to do when the baby was finally pushed out, I thought hopefully.

  I felt God was punishing me for having Wolf’s baby. Even though I had not willingly wanted to give birth to Wolf’s child, it was just one more thing that brought me pain. I thought of my family being killed and me having the baby of the man who killed them. What had I done to bring this misery upon myself, I asked God as the pains grew stronger?

  Wolf did not seem to be much of a help. He couldn’t stop the pain or make it easier for me to deliver the child. However, he was there. He stood, I realized proudly, holding my hand, talking softly to me in his own language, encouraging me to be calm. In a brief moment, between the pains, I saw his eyes soften as he looked at me. It dawned on me that he was looking at me through eyes of love. Maybe Wolf loved me after all and I just couldn’t accept it? The moment was shattered by another scream coming from deep within me. I felt the sudden urge to push!

  I couldn’t stop myself from pushing, even though doing so brought on more pain. I didn’t think I could withstand the pain and I vowed never to conceive another child, regardless who the father was! I could not envision myself going through this kind of pain again. How did other women do it, who had several children? It was inhumane of God to put women through such pain in order to give birth!

  The pains were right on top of each other, each one demanding I push and I had no alternative but to obey! In spite of the pain, the only way it would end was to go through more pain, so I started working harder to push this foreign object from my body. After all the pain I was going through, I knew I would never let Wolf take our baby from me. But did I have the right to take it from him?

  At that moment, Wolf cheered as he exclaimed the head had appeared, and in the next push, I could feel the rest of the body slide out. Wolf had taken the towel and was wiping the face of the newborn. I heard it sputter and then start to cry. Wolf lifted it in his arms, wrapped in the towel and handed it to me, telling me to nurse it.

  I pulled the towel away a bit and saw that I was holding a son. He looked so much like Wolf that I took in my breath. The only character that indicated he was not pure Indian was his green eyes. Green eyes that were staring up at me as he began to nurse. I rubbed my finger over the soft dark downy fuzz on his head. I couldn’t believe that I was a mother and had just given birth.

  I saw Wolf remove his knife from his belt and I stiffened. Why was he doing that? Did he intend to kill me, now that I had given him a son and had done my duty as a slave? Would he take the child and marry a woman from his own tribe so she could raise our son? I took in my breath as Wolf pulled the towel aside, bringing the knife towards the baby. Surely he did not plan to kill the child! Then he lifted the cord and cut it, taking a leather fringe from his leggings, and cutting it as well, then tying it around the umbilical cord. I had not thought about doing that because I knew nothing about new babies.

  As I nursed the small bundle, which felt warm and comforting in my arms, Wolf busied himself cleaning up the afterbirth, leaving the room to dispose of it. I suddenly felt tired, yet elated. I found myself drifting off to sleep, as the warm, eager mouth of my child drew nourishment from my body. A new chapter of my life stood before me, but all I could feel was the love that poured from my body into the child lying snuggled in my arms. I would never release him, I vowed. He was mine, and no matter what Wolf or anyone else did, I would keep him close to my heart. His name would become Benjamin taking the place of the brother I had lost. He was now my focal point and every choice I made from that point on would revolve around him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Anytime little Ben even fussed a little, Wolf was right there lifting him into his arms to comfort him or bring him to me to nurse. Then he would sit and watch me nurse our child, his eyes bright with pride and wonder. Sometimes, when the baby slept, Wolf would sit and watch him for hours, just gazing down at the sleeping bundle. I knew he was elated that he was a father and it made me worry for when the time came and he would have to leave to join his own people. I didn’t think he would go easily. He doted on his son, wanting to hold him constantly. There were times he would wake up and bring Ben to me in the middle of the night to feed before I had woken enough to hear him crying. Wolf seemed always alert to every need Ben had and I was awed yet concerned about it. He seemed to have more of a mother’s instinct than I did when it came to Ben and the bonding between them would be hard to break.

  Wolf also was very reliable with keeping things running on my homestead. He cut the ice for the cellar when the pond finally froze over. He always made sure we had plenty of firewood in the house to use. He milked the cow faithfully, fed the chickens and gathered the eggs and helped with house chores. I could find no fault in him. He treated me kindly in every way.

  Then I noticed that Wolf started using English names for objects, which I had tried to teach him and then gave up on him when he refused to cooperate. Now his stubborn attitude had mellowed into complete cooperation. It seemed he wanted to please me, and if learning my language was a way to do it, he had decided to tackle the task.

  Wolf’s eyes followed me constantly, especially when I was holding or carrying the baby. He took great pleasure in watching little Ben nurse. He would even change Ben when he was wet and wanted to help me bathe him. I began to enjoy Wolf’s eagerness to help and be there for me. I never had to ask him twice to do something for me. Slowly he was able to carry on short conversations with the limited words he was learning, and my attitude concerning Wolf began to change with each new day. I realized I wasn’t feeling lonely any longer. I not only had my son, but I had Wolf there supporting me and keeping me company.

  Most of the time was spent inside the house because the snow was so deep. Wolf was the only one who went out to care for the animals and clear a walkway to the barn or bring something up from the cellar. I began to rely on him more and more. I knew when it finally came time for him to leave, I would not only miss him, but I would be sad to see him go. I knew our son would miss him as well. I started dreading the coming of spring. I wished it would stay winter forever so nothing would have to change.

  Wolf would often pat my back, or touch my cheek. Sometimes, he reached out and grabbed my hand unexpectedly. It reminded me of when I f
irst became his captive, and he had actually become my friend. I thought of the times we had played in the stream together, bathing together, sleeping together. His attachment to me back then had distracted me from my loss and the trauma I had gone through when the Lenape had raided our home. I had looked forward to the nights we spent touching each other, learning about our differences.

  Now I started to notice little things about Wolf I hadn’t bothered to pay attention to in the past. The way he always gave me a crooked smile, when I caught him staring at me. His eyes softening as he caught my own eyes, causing my heart to warm. He always hummed a funny little tune when he held Ben and I started looking forward to hearing it. His hair, that had always been kept cropped short, around the central cascading circle of hair, started to grow, giving him a whole different appearance. He did not look so wild and unruly to me. I liked the fact that he was allowing his hair to grow out. He had beautiful, black silky hair. I discovered there were many other features that I liked about him, which either I ignored in the past, or had become more noticeable to me as we spent so much time together.

  He no longer wore only a breech-cloth. His fringed buckskin shirt stretched across his broad back and he wore leggings now that the weather was cold. I sort of missed being able to see his muscles rippling across his strong stomach and chest. Now I knew why he had been upset when I was wearing a dress when he first captured me. It seemed right that we should be able to see each other’s body, I thought.

  Wolf still slept in Ben’s old room, but he was in my room about as much as he was in his own room, helping me care for the baby. He always slept with his door open and insisted I keep my door open too so he could hear the baby crying in the night. He eagerly lifted Ben from his swinging makeshift bed to hand him to me in the middle of the night, so I wouldn’t have to rouse myself to get up and feed Ben. I think he liked the excuse to be in my room, sitting on the edge of my bed, wearing nothing but his breech-cloth, waiting for Ben to finish, so he could put Ben back in his bed again.

  I liked having him there, hovering over us, ready to help in any situation. Wolf was nothing like the Indian I knew who made me his slave. He was acting more like a loving husband. The thought tore at my heart. I couldn’t let myself think those things, I scolded. If Martin ever found Wolf there, no telling what would happen? I was slowly accepting the fact that I wanted Wolf there. I wanted to be with him, yet the complication of him remaining at the homestead or me leaving with him was too confusing for me to dwell on, so I kept pushing it to the back of my mind.

  I had just finished nursing Ben, and Wolf took him from my arms and placed him back in his little swinging bed. Only this time, instead of leaving to go to his own room, he returned to the bed and lay down beside me.

  “I have been thinking,” he said softly.

  There was a long pause, and then he continued.

  “I love my son. I love you. I do not wish to be parted with either of you.”

  I was quiet. I wanted to tell him I loved him too, and I did not want to be parted with him, but that would mean making a decision I was not ready to make yet.

  “I wish you could stay,” I said instead. “Only I don’t know how you can? Your people agreed to leave this area. Martin promised to return and check on me in the spring. If he finds you here…”

  Wolf put his hand over my mouth.

  “You can hide me. I will go to the cellar,” he insisted.

  “You can’t hide forever, and besides, Martin will notice all the work that has been done around the place. He will know someone was here doing that work.”

  “This is your house. How can he tell you who can be here?”

  “He represents the law! If the Lenape are not allowed to remain here…”

  “Many of my people agreed to work for the English warriors. They work as scouts still. If I am working here for you, he cannot complain.”

  I took in my breath. Maybe Wolf was right. The Indians that had started to side with the British had helped them overtake the French. If I told Martin I knew Wolf and trusted him, so I hired him to work on my farm, when he showed up just before winter, surely he would not insist Wolf leave.

  “We will have to see what happens,” I said at last.

  “You said you wished I could stay. Do you truly wish it?”

  Wolf looked down into my eyes as he spoke. I could see hope flickering there as the moon through the window slightly illuminated his features.

  “I think I truly do wish it,” I whispered, having to admit to myself that I did not have the strength to make him leave. In fact, I didn’t want to make him leave.

  “Will you be my woman?” he asked, reaching his finger out and lifting a strand of my hair, running it between his finger and thumb, causing a shiver to run through me.

  “I think I have always been your woman,” I murmured. “I just don’t want to leave my home. I can’t be your woman any other place but here.”

  “I could grow used to living like a white man if I can have you near me. I will stay if you can get Martin to give me permission to remain.”

  I didn’t answer. Wolf had wrapped me in his arms and was holding me firmly against his chest, which was bare since he slept with only his breech-cloth on. I could hear his heart beating against my ear, the pounding of my own heart was keeping time with his. The closeness I had felt on those nights Wolf had held me to him, in the beginning, began to flow through me again. I was where I wanted to be. Where I was supposed to be, only that did not mean it could last. It would be up to what happened when Martin discovered Wolf had been staying with me. I would have to tell him about the baby, and that Wolf was the father.

  I pushed the thoughts from my mind. Spring was still at least a month away. I had the whole month before I had to worry about it. Wolf’s arms tightened around me, and I felt safe and protected. I was no longer Wolf’s slave. I knew Wolf loved me. Beyond that, I knew I loved Wolf as well.

  We lay in each other’s arms the rest of the night. His familiar smell filled my senses and the feel of his hand stroking my hair, brought a deep comfort to me. Finally, I felt completely at peace in Wolf’s arms. He was not going to drag me back to his tribe. He was not going to take my son from me. He would remain here, beside me, caring for both me and our son. I would no longer have to look forward to a lonely life, only I knew it was not going to be easy. Society was not going to accept us, and I wondered if I was strong enough to face up to being shunned by others, possibly including Martin, when the time came?

  I woke to the feel of Wolf’s arms around me. A feeling I had grown used to when I was with him after he captured me. Now it almost seemed foreign to me to have him there in my bed. At the same time, it was what I wanted. I had been longing for this completeness for too long now. I was having a hard time accepting that it was real.

  My eyes opened and I lay there consuming every detail of Wolf’s features. All those notable shapes that made up the sum of Wolf’s appeal to me. In the beginning, I thought him to be scary, only now, I found him excitingly handsome in a wild, rugged way. The texture and color of his skin fascinated me in a way it never had before. The fact that he was of a different breed did not shock or frighten me any longer. To me, he was Wolf, the father of my child and the only man I had ever known intimately. He was someone who came to find me, who had hunted me down twice when I tried to escape him. He had become an intricate part of me, whether I wanted him to be or not. Now he was my future, the man who wanted to remain beside me, even in the face of rejection by all others, and the possibility of being punished for coming to be with me.

  He had left his people to remain by my side and he was willing to live a white man’s life to continue to have me beside him. I felt a gratefulness that contradicted my anger that he was the person who killed my family. I had to forgive him for that. He was only following instructions given by the French and the leaders of his tribe. It had nothing to do with me. It had to do with war and the wanting of land and power.

 
; I watched as Wolf slowly opened his eyes, locking my own eyes in his gaze. Then Ben started fussing for his breakfast, and Wolf was lifting from my arms, going to Ben to bring him to me. He placed him gently in my arms and watched, as always, while I nursed him, but this time he ran his finger over Ben’s soft hair, while he looked lovingly into my eyes. The love that emanated from his eyes was more than palatable to me. It was like a physical object that glued us together as one. When Ben finished nursing, Wolf lifted him from me and replaced him in his swinging bed. I could hear him gurgling, contended with a full belly, as Wolf stood there for a few seconds, humming that funny little song, rocking him back to sleep.

  Wolf turned to me and returned to the bed. His hands lifted my mother’s flannel nightgown I had taken to wearing, up over my head. I did not resist. I wanted the touch of him and I could tell he wanted to touch me in that old familiar way again. He let his breech-cloth drop away and stood before me in handsome splendor, which my eyes soaked up. Then he lowered himself to the bed. My senses tingled at the first touch of his fingertips as he attentively tested my reaction. I felt my body arching in response to his touch and could see that crooked grin stretching across his face, his eyes penetrating my very soul, as he stared into my eyes.

  Wolf lowered his head and gently captured my lips beneath his full sensuous mouth. I opened to welcome the kiss, wanting to breathe in his essence, as our tongues clashed in eager anticipation. Then his kiss was engulfing me, bringing me to that time in the Stream when I first experienced Wolf’s lips upon mine. I thought about how Martin’s kiss could not compare to the kiss Wolf had given me back then and now I knew why. Wolf’s kiss was filled with a love that had grown out of our close friendship that developed as we traveled together. His kiss drew me into his world. A world that made me feel alive and excited. I had never felt excited around Martin.

  There had always been the uncertain anticipation connected to Wolf. I never knew what he was thinking, or feeling. However, now I knew exactly what he was thinking and how he was feeling. He not only conveyed it to me with his mouth upon mine but with his hands and body as our breath quickened and caught at every touch. I too was eager to touch Wolf. All the times he had forced me to touch him, now melted into a great desire to be touching him. I couldn’t get enough of touching him. It was like I had never experienced the touch or feel of Wolf beneath my fingers before and wanted to satisfy my curiosity. All the other times Wolf took me as a man takes a woman, I had lain unresponsive in his arms, hating him for using me for a baby-making-machine. Now I participated, pressing for the next sensation and overwhelming need of him. I melded into him as though we were one. I wanted to be one with Wolf. I was giving myself to him in a way I nor he had ever experienced before and I could tell he was pleased by my response.