However, his expression changed to one of question, when he saw me. “Naun-doe aim awl-yah?” (why are you crying) he murmured. His face suddenly looked sad.
As I came closer, he reached out and touched my tears, and then grabbed my hand. “Haw aim peyoam daw?” (are you well)
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know what he was saying. I just could see the concern on his face, as he clutched my small hand in his large one.
“They burned your village,” I said at last, knowing he did not understand me. I knew I could not explain to him why I was really upset, but I was also upset because I knew that once he recovered, if he recovered, he would have no place to go for shelter over the winter. He would end up dying, even if he did survive his wound. I was trying to figure out how I could explain it to him, since I could not speak his language.
I remembered how Indians sometimes drew pictures on cave walls and rocks, telling a story, and I thought that tomorrow I would bring paper and pencil and draw the pictures to tell the story of his tribe’s situation. For now, though, all I wanted was to forget everything.
I sank down beside Muraco, still holding his hand, as I began to shiver with emotions, I didn’t even understand. When I did that, he pulled the quilt over the two of us. “de-mau.” (sleep) he whispered.
I felt exhausted and a little lost. There was no real way to communicate with this unusually strange Indian man. Nevertheless, I had to talk to someone. I began to explain to him why I had been crying, even though I knew he could not understand a word I was saying. As I spoke, every once in awhile he would squeeze my hand, as though he did understand.
When my father came home, I would refuse to marry the man he had chosen for me, I resolved, as I related what I had discovered to the Indian beside me. Only I was frightened because this was my home, and if I refused to marry the man, I wondered if my father would try to force me into a marriage against my will. How could I escape? I had no place to go.
After awhile, I blew the lamp out and closed my eyes, trying to push everything from my mind. Tomorrow was another day, I soothed myself, and I would have to solve my problem later. After all, no telling how long father would stay away. By the time he returned, perhaps I would have thought of something.
The feel of Muraco’s hand, wrapped around mine, seemed to give me strength. I was trying to understand how that could be, since this was a wild Indian whom I didn’t even know. However, his eyes had looked so concerned, when he grasped my hand. Maybe it was out of gratitude because I had helped him. I felt no fear. I only felt bewildered.
I jerked awake, thinking I had slept too late and there were chores to be done. Then I realized I had slept the night in the cave beside Muraco. I hadn’t meant to stay the whole night. I had intended to return to my room, after I had rested a bit. Now Emmet and the others would be worried and probably come looking for me.
I started to jump to my feet, but Muraco’s strong hand stopped me, as his grip tightened on my hand. “Ha-yah aim bon-mah?” It was the same question he had asked when I had first left him.
“I have to go,” I told him firmly, untangling my hand from his. He looked disappointed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back. I am not going to leave you here to die.”
I grabbed up the lantern, and started dashing across the field. The grass was damp and soaked the hem of my skirt. My low top boots were getting soaked as well. I was trying to think up what I would tell Emmet and Darie about where I had been all night.
When I reached the yard, Emmet was standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at me. “Where in the dickens did you take off to?” he asked, giving me his ‘I should be in charge instead of you’ stare.
“I am not going to marry that man father has chosen for me!” I stated emphatically, ignoring his question. “I have thought about it all night, and I refuse to be forced into marriage. I would rather be an old maid.”
“Good luck with that,” he murmured. “I don’t like the idea of strangers coming to try and take over either. You know if father marries that floozy she will have rights over the farm, if anything happens to father. The only way we would inherit would be if father put it in his will, and I don’t even think he has written a will or thought of what will happen if he dies. I never questioned it, because I just assumed the place would be left to us.
“If you do marry her son, that would make it all the more likely they would be in camand of things, because you are the oldest, and whatever is left to you, would really belong to him, and the rest would probably go to her.” He gave an angry glare, and then his eyes looked a little hopeless.
“Well, I won’t marry him, so that much is not going to happen.” I assured him. “But you are right. As soon as father comes home, we need to explain the consequences of his actions, and insist he take some care to secure our future.”
“I think he thinks he is securing our future by marrying that woman, and bringing her son for you to marry. I know he feels bad that you have tried to take the place of mother all these years. He probably thinks this will fix that, but can you imagine having a Hurdy-Gurdy Girl as a step mother?”
“I will never accept her as my mother! He didn’t even consult us about it,” I lamented. “Besides, I like being responsible for the house and caring for the farm. I hadn’t planned to get married anyway. I just wanted to remain here, working the farm with you, and whoever you married.”
“Where am I ever going to find a wife?” Emmet complained. “We are way off the beaten path, and father is the only one who ever goes where there is civilization.”
“He could take you in the future. Eventually, you will need to help him bring supplies back. And it seems more and more people keep moving out in this direction. That is why the Indians are uprising, since we have come and taken over their land.”
“Standing here talking about it, is not going to change anything. I was worried about you, when I found you gone. I thought you had slept the night in the barn, but you were nowhere to be found. I feared something had happened to you.”
“I hadn’t meant to stay out all night. I was just so exhausted; I fell asleep out in one of the caves, where Buttercup had her calf.”
“Don’t do that any more!” Emmet demanded.
“I will do as I please!” I returned. “I am the eldest, and can take care of myself. I would never leave the farm without letting you know I was going, though.”
“You can’t leave! We are a family!” His face looked worried, as his blue eyes met my own.
“I didn’t say I was leaving. I love this place the same as you. I just meant, not to worry about me if I wander off. There are times I need to be alone, so stop your fussing.” I gave him one of my ‘I am the mother now’ look, and he shrugged and grinned.
“Darie is fixing breakfast. You should come in and eat. I didn’t tell Darie or Nigel that I couldn’t find you. I just said I thought you spent the night in the barn, and went out to look for you. So for all they know, that is where you have been.”
“Then let’s go in and eat,” I suggested.
I had the overpowering belief that my life was never going to be the same again. Not only was I harboring a dangerous enemy, but my future was bleak, if I was forced to marry someone I may not desire to marry. I was trying to keep an open mind, but I would not even know how to act around a man, especially a man who assumed I would eagerly marry him, just because my father told him he could marry me.
Arranged marriages had been left back in England, when our forefathers left the English customs behind us, by coming out to the Americas, I reasoned. There was no way father could force me to marry someone against my will, I determined.
Only I didn’t have a lot of time to worry about the man father had promised me to. There was too much to do on the farm, what with harvest coming on fast, and having to preserve food for the winter, to add to the stock father would bring back. Then having to take time out to check up on Muraco, after all my chores were done, would take up my day and kee
p my worried thoughts at bay.
The next time I visited the cave, Muraco was looking much stronger, and I brought paper and pencil with me, in order to try to communicate with him better.
When I started drawing pictures, showing him what had happened to his tribe, his eyes darkened with anger, and the very look almost frightened me.
Slowly, I tried to teach Muraco my language, while he helped me to understand his, and a labored form of communication started to grow between us, each time I came to the cave to check on him. He seemed to gain his strength rapidly, over the next few days, and I feared that he would leave, and I would never see him again. I looked forward to the afternoons, when I could put everything behind me, and come out and visit with Muraco, and tend to his wound.
Each time I replaced the old wrappings for a new one, I felt self-conscience touching his strong, dark body, the way I was. It almost felt indecent, especially because he seemed to enjoy the fact that I was touching him, trying to be careful, as his dark, obsidian eyes sometimes held mine spellbound, while I tended him.
Muraco seemed to be my only friend, because I could openly talk to him about all my problems, even though I knew he merely understood a small amount of what I was saying. He always looked upon me with kind eyes and called me Pi au-dau, the word he had used when he had touched my hair, which meant ‘fire hair’. He claimed I brought warmth into his life. He seemed to bring purpose into mine.
There were times when he merely watched me, not speaking at all, but seeming to take in my every movement. He often reached out and touched my hair; it seemed with wonder. His hair was longer than mine, and I admired how shiny and sleek it looked, when his braids were undone. He had straight hair, while my hair was wavy and tended to get out of control by escaping my efforts to keep it in a bun, when it wasn’t down around my shoulders.
Eventually, I learned that his name meant White Moon. He said together we were the moon and the sun, which were opposite, yet needed each other to separate the night from the day, bringing full circle to the heavens. It was almost like poetry, I thought.
Sometimes we had to resort to sign language, and drawing pictures, as well, but when he did speak, I loved listening to his musical sounding voice, especially when he spoke in his own language. It seemed to fill my very being, even when I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
One day, when I saw him fingering his money belt, I explained to him how much those twenty dollar silver pieces were worth. He merely shrugged, as though he didn’t understand the concept of money and what one could buy with it. Indians traded goods, and made bargains. They had no use for money.
Everyday, though, I feared that Emmet would discover I was hiding Muraco in the cave, and no telling what he would do, if he ever found out. He hated the Indians, and was happy to hear that Kit Carson had gotten rid of most of them. I had to be very careful when I left to go to the cave. I merely told Emmet I was going for an afternoon walk before supper, to sort my thoughts out. He knew I was worried about having to marry some stranger, so he seemed to understand and not question it.
Muraco and I sat beside the stream, aimlessly throwing pebbles into the water, as we talked. He did not seem very talkative on this day. He seemed to be deep in thought. It had been over two weeks since I had found him in the cave, and I was astonished at how quickly his wound was healing. He now wore the shirt I had washed, which was marred by the bullet hole, and a dark stain around it, which no amount of washing could remove.
Finally, he turned to look at me, and placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked up, expectantly, into his dark, mysterious eyes.
“I must leave you,” he told me solemnly. “It is time I go back to my own people.”
“But you have no way to survive the winter,” I complained. “You could stay in the cave for the winter, if you remained here.”
“This is not my home.”
He paused and then gave my shoulder a small squeeze.
“But you are my life. You are my Sun Shine in a dark place.”
Some of this he said in his own language, when he had problems with the English words, but I was starting to understand his Indian words better, now.
“I want you to come with me.”
His pleading look cut through my heart.
I trusted Muraco, and was fond of him, but the thought of going with him to his own people, never entered my mind. In fact, it was the furthest thing from it.
I reached my hand up, and covered his hand upon my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Muraco. I have my family here. I cannot come and be with you. Besides you have no way to survive the winter. You will end up dying, and I, right along with you, if I came. Stay here. We have plenty of food to share with you.”
He looked disappointed at my words.
“I know how to take care of myself during the cold days. I could care for you, too.” He almost said it gruffly. “You could bring some of your supply with us,” he added as an after thought.
“But my home is here, with my family. I am expected to remain here and run the farm. Besides my family would never let me leave with a wild Indian. My brother would shoot you, if he thought you were trying to take me with you,”
I had not told him about my father, or his plans for me, after that first night when I poured my heart out to him, when I knew he couldn’t understand me. He was only aware of my brothers and sister living on the farm with me, because they were the only ones I ever spoke of.
Muraco understood loyalty to family, because that was the reason he was returning to his people. It was loyalty to his family and his tribe that pulled him, even if there wasn’t a village to go back to.
“Then I will miss my Fire Hair,” he said softly, lifting his hand from my shoulder and touching my hair.
“I will miss my White Moon,” I mumbled, trying to hold the tears back.
Muraco abruptly jumped to his feet.
“You saved my life. I will always be indebted to you,” he mumbled.
Then he slowly removed the money belt from around his waist, and handed it to me.
“This is the only way I can repay you,” he said, then turned away and sprinted over to where his horse was grazing.
He didn’t say another word to me, but leaped upon his horses back, and rode away, not even looking behind him. I wondered if he was angry that I would not come with him, or merely sad. It was always hard to read his feelings, I realized.
I watched, dumbfounded, clutching to the string of silver coins, as Muraco rode off over the meadow, and then into the shelter of the woods. My world was starting to crumble around me. My purpose in life was riding away to join his own people, and my father would soon return with a man he expected me to marry.
I sank to the ground and began to sob. But then I glanced through watery eyes to the money belt in my hand. I held a small fortune there. If anything happened, and I needed to take care of myself, I had the means with which to do it, I thought. Perhaps Muraco was saving my life as well!
CHAPTER SIX
I distracted my thoughts by putting all my energy into the harvest, and preparing for the winter. Emmet often looked over at me with a worried expression on his face.
“You have stopped taking your daily walks,” he noted, one afternoon, when I was on my way out to the barn to check up on Buttercup and Hope.
Every time I looked at Hope, it brought back thoughts of Muraco.
“It wasn’t solving my problem,” I murmured.
I hadn’t visited the cave since Muraco left, because it was too painful, and full of memories.
“What are we going to do, Emmet? I love this place, but I refuse to remain here, if father tries to force me to marry someone I don’t even know.”
“Who knows?” Emmet half smiled. “Maybe you will discover you like the man,” he encouraged.
“But what if I don’t? What can I do?”
“I will talk to father, if you find you loath the man,” he offered.
“But he wi
ll be living here, whether I marry him or not. He will try to run the farm. You know how father is constantly distracted by his gold hunting. He has always left everything to do with the farm up to us. He doesn’t care who runs the farm as long as it produces what we need.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Emmet promised.
“How can you stop it, Emmet? The man is older than both of us. His mother may have influence over father. After all, he agreed to marry a Hurdy Gurdy-Girl, sight unseen! He must be getting addled to have allowed it to happen.”
“He was just lonely. He was always out panning gold, while we ran the farm. He probably felt he needed a closer companion, than just his children. After all, a man has his needs, that go beyond just caring for family.”
“Well if those needs cause him to exclude his family from his plans, and forcing me to marry someone I have never met, he has no family loyalty!” I snapped gruffly.
“Maybe we should just wait and see what happens. We probably never should have read those letters. They have just made us worry. It might not be as bad as we think it is going to be,” Emmet tried to calm me.
“Just the same, if it is as bad as I believe it will be, I am going to go back to Missouri and stay with Aunt Sally and Uncle Ted,” I informed him.
I had been giving it a lot of thought lately.
“And just how are you going to do that, Connie? You don’t have any money, or means to get there. You certainly can’t walk all the way back to Missouri! Besides, winter is coming on, so you couldn’t even leave until spring, even if you did have a way to get there.”
I had not mentioned the silver coins Muraco had given me, because there was no way to explain it, so I just shrugged. “I could go back with the supply wagons, on their return trip to Missouri,” I insisted.
“They won’t be making the trip until next spring themselves. Once the snows come, there is no way to travel across the plains.”
“Then I will just have to wait until spring,” I said with determination.
“You might be biting off more than you can chew,” he warned. “Those supply trains are usually driven by a bunch of rough men. They aren’t going to let a young woman join them. Even if they did, they would charge you for your passage. And how could you be sure they won’t take advantage of you?”
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