“Oh, my Lord, he’s fallen,” Mary Beth cried when she caught sight of the man just as he slipped and fell from the horse.
The stranger was dressed in buckskin, with long, thick black hair and a face that shone copper colored beneath the brightness of the early afternoon sun.
She glanced over at Brave Wolf, whose eyes were wide with surprise just before he sank his heels into his horse’s flanks and rode off at a hard gallop. She was left behind with the other warriors except for one who rode with Brave Wolf.
Mary Beth strained her neck in order to see when Brave Wolf leapt from his horse and sank to his knees on the ground beside the fallen warrior.
When she heard him cry out the name Night Horse, she realized that he had found his brother, and that his brother might have just died in his arms.
The warriors rode in a hard gallop toward Brave Wolf and the fallen warrior.
Mary Beth suddenly realized that she was alone. Her heart skipped a beat, for she knew that she had just been given the opportunity to ride in the opposite direction.
No one would even notice. She could find Fort Henry!
The cavalry could send out a search party for David.
But then she recalled the bear, the cries of mountain lions in the night, the baying of wolves, and yelping of coyotes. All of those wild creatures were a threat to her, perhaps more of a threat than being with Indians who so far, had treated her with only kindness. Instead of fleeing, she hurried forward, stopping when she came a few feet from where Brave Wolf was cradling the fallen warrior’s head on his lap.
Yes, surely he had just found his lost brother, and by the looks of things, he might be at death’s door.
She slid from the saddle just as Brave Wolf lifted Night Horse into his arms and carried him to a nearby stream. Its banks were shaded by willows, their leaves looking silver as they fanned in the gentle breeze.
Mary Beth watched as Brave Wolf laid his brother on a bank of purple primrose, then reached his hands into the water and brought some out to bathe his brother’s fevered brow.
Mary Beth tied her horse with the others, which had been tethered to the limb of a lone tree that stood beside the stream.
She continued watching Brave Wolf, touched by his gentleness and caring toward his brother.
She could not help thinking of David and wondering if her son was being treated kindly by his captors, or being mistreated, possibly abused. . . .
That last thought filled her with such dread, she turned and ran away from Brave Wolf. Her face in her hands, she stopped and let the tears flood from her eyes. She sobbed.
And then she felt strong arms surround her.
“Why are you crying? Have I treated you so terribly?”
She recognized the voice and knew who was holding her so tenderly.
Brave Wolf.
He had left his brother to see to her welfare. At that moment, she knew that he would never do anything to harm her.
He did care for her.
Touched deeply by his tenderness, she made a snap decision to trust him. She turned quickly and gazed up into his eyes.
“No, it is not you,” she sobbed out. She wiped the tears with the palms of her hands. “It is my son. I am so afraid for my son! Seeing your brother lying there so ill reminds me of how things might be for my little boy.”
“Your son?” Brave Wolf said. “You have not spoken of a son before.”
He was seized by jealousy, for if there was a son, surely there was a husband.
Then where was the husband?
Why had he not protected her better? If she were Brave Wolf’s woman, he would have guarded her with his life.
“I didn’t tell you because . . . because . . . I wasn’t sure if I could trust you with such information,” she murmured. She wiped her eyes dry.
“And now you can?” Brave Wolf asked softly. He placed his hands at her cheeks, causing her to gaze into his eyes again. “Why do you trust me now when you would not before?”
“Because, oh, because . . .” she began, then sighed heavily. “Just because.”
She looked past him at his brother, then looked into Brave Wolf’s eyes again. “Because you left your brother and came to me when you heard me crying,” she blurted out. “That proves that you care, truly care for me.”
“I handed my brother over to a friend so I could come to you, and, yes, it was because I care for you that I momentarily put you first over my brother,” he said thickly. “Now tell me about your son. Where is he?”
She explained as quickly as she could, for she knew by the way he kept glancing at his brother that he wished to be there with him.
When she was through, she saw a strange sort of relief in his eyes.
“Your husband died in the battle that killed Yellow Hair,” Brave Wolf said thickly. “I am sorry for your loss.”
But he was also glad, for he knew now that he would do anything to win this woman for his own.
She was free to love. And he would make sure that she loved him.
“Yes, he died,” Mary Beth said, lowering her eyes.
Then she looked quickly up at him again. “But when I last saw my son, he was very much alive,” she said. “I need to find him. Can . . . you . . . help me?”
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “I will get my brother home as quickly as possible, and then my warriors and I will search for your son.”
“Why would you do this?” she asked, searching his eyes and finding emotion there that told her the answer to her question without his even saying it.
She knew that he would do this because he cared as deeply for her as she now allowed herself to feel for him.
“Why?” he said, knowing that it was not time to tell her the true reason . . . that he was in love with her and wanted her forever as his. “Because I am a just man who will not tolerate injustice toward others, especially toward small, innocent children.”
She didn’t believe that he was telling her everything about his feelings, and she understood.
This was not the time. . . .
Suddenly Night Horse emitted a cry of pain.
Brave Wolf hurried to his brother and knelt, lifting his head onto his lap again. “Night Horse, it is I. It is your brother who holds you,” he said gently. “Night Horse, I have found you and will take you home to Ina. Do not die, my brother. Do not die.”
Night Horse’s eyes opened only momentarily. He smiled up at Brave Wolf, then fell into another deep sleep.
Mary Beth went to Brave Wolf. Wanting to repay him for his kindness, she decided to rip a portion of her dress off so that she could use it as a cloth for bathing the warrior’s face, but then remembered that she wasn’t wearing her dress.
She was in the clothes of a man.
She suddenly realized that she had forgotten her dress where she had taken it off. Now what was she to do?
If she ever did have the chance to return to the white world, she would not want to arrive in Indian attire, especially a man’s.
When Night Horse groaned in pain, Mary Beth cupped her hands and reached into the stream where the water was so clear she could see the white pebbles on the bottom. She filled her hands with water and brought them close to Night Wolf’s face. Slowly she let the water trickle over his brow. Mary Beth turned to Brave Wolf, smiled, then suddenly realized she had never even told him her name. “I know you are called Brave Wolf,” she said. “I am Mary Beth Wilson.”
Brave Wolf smiled, for it was good to know that this woman no longer saw him as a man she could not trust. Instead he heard in her voice a note that told him she cared as much for him as he had grown to care for her.
He was touched by what she was doing for Night Horse. He saw her gentleness, her kindness, her beauty.
He was suddenly overwhelmed by deep, wondrous feelings for this woman. Yes, he now knew that destiny had brought them together, and destiny would not allow them to part. Somehow he would find a way to convince her that she should n
ever return to the world of the white people again. Even her son, if he was found, would be accepted as a part of the Crow.
Mary Beth felt something mystically sweet flowing between herself and Brave Wolf and did not fight it. She was beginning to realize that events had unfurled as they had in order for them to meet.
Could it be that she’d had to travel this far to find true love?
Yes, it did seem so!
Chapter Ten
I feel again a spark of
that ancient flame.
—Virgil
Mary Beth was exhausted by the time they reached the Indian village that was Brave Wolf’s home. But despite her exhaustion she was alert and somewhat fearful as she rode beside him into the village.
Mary Beth brought her horse closer to Brave Wolf’s as she looked cautiously around her. She saw women busy cutting meat into thin strips and laying them on racks, as others cleaned skins that were stretched out on the ground.
She saw big-eyed children run over to Brave Wolf’s horse and reach up to touch their chief as he continued to thread his way through the settlement.
Mary Beth stiffened when she saw the women stop their work and stare at her, then hurry to their children and lead them away.
She noted how all of the people’s eyes went to the man who was being brought into their village on a travois behind Brave Wolf’s steed. Mary Beth was glad that the attention was focused on Night Wolf now, rather than herself.
And she knew why. This man was someone they had never expected to see again. He had walked away from them and allied himself with whites.
She knew this because she had heard a warrior discussing it with Brave Wolf during their journey. She had heard the warrior tell Brave Wolf that he still was not certain Night Horse should be taken home, where so many would resent his presence.
Brave Wolf had told the warrior that it no longer mattered who thought what, for it was his decision to bring Night Wolf home.
And Brave Wolf’s word was final.
Mary Beth had not asked Brave Wolf why one of his warriors would not want Night Horse taken home. He had suddenly volunteered that information after his warrior had fallen back to ride with the others.
As he had told her about a brother who had allied himself with white cavalrymen, she had been more aware than ever of Brave Wolf’s true goodness.
Seeing the bitterness in so many of the Crow people’s eyes, she knew that most did not forgive Night Horse. But she guessed they would tolerate him for the sake of one person: Brave Wolf’s mother. Everyone understood the importance of his mother making peace with Night Horse, before she, or he, died.
Yes, Mary Beth knew the depths of love a mother felt for her son. Hers was so deep, she again felt a tearing at her heart when she thought of David and what he might be going through at the hands of his captors.
She brushed that fear from her mind as best she could and focused on the present. She gazed past the people and saw how large the village was. It was so large a settlement, she could not see where it began or ended.
Mary Beth again gazed into the crowd, noting especially the appearance of the women. Most were very attractive. She admired the porcupine-quill embroidery work on the women’s doeskin dresses, and their black hair which hung in long braids down their backs. Their skin was as light as Brave Wolf’s, and as smooth.
At that moment a warrior approached Brave Wolf to tell him that Two Tails’s parents were in mourning and would not be among those who welcomed him home. His friend had been buried yesterday on top of a rocky bluff and covered with poles and rocks, with all the rites of a favored warrior.
Mary Beth could see the pain in Brave Wolf’s eyes as he was told about the mourning and burial. She felt a pang of guilt, for if Brave Wolf had not taken the time to save her, putting himself and his warriors in danger while doing so, Two Tails would now be alive.
She shook off her guilt and sad memories and looked over at Brave Wolf. She knew he mourned his friend’s passing, but for now his first priority must be getting his brother help.
Night Horse was terribly ill. When she had heard the rattling in his lungs, she remembered another time when she had heard that same sound just prior to someone’s death. Her grandmother. Yes, shortly after Mary Beth had heard those strange rattling sounds in her grandmother’s lungs, she had died.
She glanced over at Brave Wolf. She knew there was a problem between him and his brother. Though she had seen him gather his brother in his arms when he first found him, she knew that was because of the childhood they’d shared.
The man on the travois was vastly different from that young brave who grew up with his brother Brave Wolf.
She knew that Brave Wolf’s concern for his mother was the main reason he had searched for Night Horse and reunited him with those he had turned his back on. Yet she could tell by the way he gazed at his brother when no one else but she caught him looking, there was much feeling left in his heart for his brother.
But could he ever truly forgive him? She did not think that he would have time to decide, for she believed Night Horse would be dead before another sun rose in the heavens.
“Mary Beth, we are almost at my mother’s lodge,” Brave Wolf said, interrupting her thoughts. “I believe it is best that you stay with me, since my people do not yet understand your presence among them.”
Fear overwhelmed her at his words, for she understood that she might not be safe until his people knew more about her.
She swallowed hard, looked over her shoulder at the women, and then the men, and was glad that they no longer seemed to notice her, but instead focused their attention on the travois and the man lying upon it.
“Yes, Brave Wolf, I would be much more comfortable if I could stay with you,” Mary Beth blurted out.
Then she hurriedly said, “I hope your mother is alright.”
“My mother’s will to live is strong, especially since she has peace to make with her younger son,” Brave Wolf said stiffly. “If not for her, I . . .”
Mary Beth understood why he didn’t finish what he was about to say. She saw a thin, very frail elderly woman being led from the tepee, flanked by two warriors who helped her, their muscled arms around her waist.
Mary Beth was reminded again of her grandmother. This woman, too, was at the end of her life. That truth was evident in her dark eyes and the thinness of her face and arms, and how she seemed to struggle with each step because of her weakness.
The sight made tears come to Mary Beth’s eyes, for her grandmother had withered away almost to nothingness and had been buried only two years ago.
“Ina,” Brave Wolf said, suddenly stopping and leaping from his saddle. He went to Pure Heart and swept her into his arms as the two warriors stepped away from her.
He hugged her, then held her at arm’s length as he explained things to her. Then he led her onward until they came to the travois.
Mary Beth scarcely breathed as she awaited the reaction of the elderly Crow woman.
She grimaced as she watched the woman struggle and groan as she bent to her knees beside the travois.
And then the strength of a mother’s love was obvious as she swept Night Horse into her arms, her voice awakening him.
His arms twined around her.
They both cried and clung, and then Pure Heart gazed up at Brave Wolf and nodded for him to help her to her feet.
When she was standing, she reached a gentle hand to Brave Wolf’s cheek. “Micinksi, my son, please carry Night Horse to my lodge,” she murmured. “There he will be made well.”
“Ina, he is very ill,” Brave Wolf cautioned, his eyes searching hers. “Do not expect too much.”
“I have prayed for my second born from the moment you left until now,” Pure Heart said, her jaw tightening. “He will be well again.”
“Faith does mean a lot, Ina. I will take Night Horse to your lodge,” Brave Wolf said, holding her hand and kissing its palm. He saw how his mother glanced quickly up at M
ary Beth.
“The woman,” Pure Heart said. “Is this the white woman I was told about when Two Tails’s body was brought home to his parents?”
“Yes, this is the woman that my warriors and I saved from a band of renegades,” Brave Wolf explained, looking past his mother and gazing into Mary Beth’s eyes. “I made certain that everyone knew of her before her arrival, because I knew they would question how and why Two Tails died.”
“Yes, I see, and you were right to prepare everyone before she arrived,” Pure Heart said.
Mary Beth was so relieved when she didn’t hear any resentment in Brave Wolf’s mother’s voice, nor did she see it in her eyes. This woman’s heart was filled with more pressing concerns than curiosity about a white woman.
Pure Heart turned her eyes back to Night Horse and stepped away as Brave Wolf swept Night Horse into his arms. With the assistance of the same two warriors, Pure Heart followed Brave Wolf into her lodge, where he laid his brother on blankets and pelts beside the lodge fire.
“I have already sent for the shaman,” Pure Heart said as she settled down on the mats beside Night Horse. She gazed up at Brave Wolf. “I know that you have the woman to see to. I will send word about Night Horse whenever there is a change in his condition.”
Brave Wolf knew his mother was very aware that he was still torn about his brother. That was the only reason she had dismissed him so quickly. He knew that she hoped things would change and Brave Wolf would forgive Night Horse.
Brave Wolf nodded, leaned down and gave his mother a hug, then glanced again at Night Horse, whose eyes met his in a quiet plea of forgiveness.
Without another word, Brave Wolf walked away. He was glad that his mother seemed better than when he had last seen her.
Brave Wolf now believed that his mother’s ailment had been exacerbated by a broken heart over a son she feared she would never see again.
And he understood. She was the best of mothers, who dearly loved both her sons.
He, on the other hand, was feeling far from brotherly toward Night Horse. He did not see how he could ever truly forgive him, yet so much inside his heart wanted to.
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