White Dove

by Susan Edwards

  “You should have known. All the children have seen the tracks; they knew there was a mother bear and her cubs in the area. We walk the land as one. We live side by side with Mato. A good warrior would have known to check the area first.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her voice dripping with contempt. “But you’re not a warrior. Any Lakota child in our tribe—save Runs Slowly, perhaps—knows to make sure there are no bears around before attempting to gather honey. And if one shows up, they certainly aren’t stupid enough to try and fight the bear for it!” His actions served as a severe reminder that they came from two different worlds.

  Crossing his arms, Jeremy winced, then protested. “I didn’t try to fight the bear. I’m not that stupid. And I didn’t mean to put the boy in danger.”

  “If I hadn’t come looking for you, you’d both be dead. Your carelessness put us all in danger.” Once again, she stared at his shoulder. Dove knew it would be a long time, maybe never, before she forgot the sheer fright of facing down that bear. One wrong shot, and—she shuddered, unwilling to think of what could have happened. The last warrior in their tribe who’d faced the wrath of an angry bear had returned with his arm nearly severed. He’d died a few weeks later.

  Clinging to anger to keep her nausea at bay, she stalked over to a spot several feet from the fallen bear. The cubs had scattered when she’d fallen, but had returned to their mother, their cries tearing at Dove’s heart. She picked up one of Jeremy’s useless arrows.

  She returned to him and broke it in half. “A Lakota warrior does not go into battle with inferior arrows. And he does not start what he cannot finish.” She tossed the pieces at his feet.

  Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “If I’d had my rifle, I could’ve killed that bear.” Belligerence crept into his voice.

  Dove planted her hands on her hips and tipped her chin at him. “But you didn’t have it. You armed yourself with a weapon you could not use, and left the one weapon you can use home.”

  Jeremy threw out his hands. “Look, I said I was sorry. What more do you want me to say?”

  Before she could reply, happy shouts drew Dove’s attention. Runs Slowly had returned. Behind him, she heard the sound of children.

  The Sioux boy stopped next to his hero and glanced back at the rest of the boys who’d heard the commotion and had crossed the stream to see what was going on. “Dove killed bear.” He pointed to the pail. “Jer-m-ee get honey.” His eyes were wide as he stared at the scene.

  Dove drew a deep breath. Kneeling, she pointed at the two cubs sniffing their dead mother. Speaking in Lakota so Runs Slowly would understand, she said, “You must never go near baby bears. Mother bear was angry. Do you understand?”

  The boy looked from Dove to the bears then up at Jeremy. “We wanted honey,” he said simply.

  Sighing, wishing he understood, knowing he did not, Dove stood and gave him a gentle shove. “Take him back,” she ordered one of the other Lakota youths. Happily unaware of the true danger he’d been in, Runs Slowly allowed himself to be led away.

  “What’s going on?” White Wolf, Dove’s middle brother and the man in charge of the boarding school, strode into the crowd of awed children. At his heels, two dogs—a black-and-tan female, and a young white male who looked more wolf than dog—stopped when he did. “I heard your whistle—” He broke off and took in the scene, needing no further explanation. The two dogs eyed the bear cubs but stayed near Wolf. “Anyone hurt?” His sharp gaze fell on Jeremy’s shoulder.

  Jeremy sighed, all fight leaving him. “No. Just a scratch.”

  Dove quickly recounted the events to her brother and the rest of the onlookers. The boys, in training to become warriors, looked at Dove with new respect.

  Wolf listened, his features grim. With a sharp movement of his hand, he ordered all of the children to leave. When the three adults were alone, he addressed both Jeremy and Dove.

  “What’s done is done. No one got hurt—this time.” He speared Jeremy with a stern look. “In the future, perhaps you’d best consult me with your plans.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it negotiable.

  “Yes, Wolf,” Jeremy mumbled.

  Silence fell as Wolf moved to examine the slain bear, giving them all time to reflect. Dove almost felt sorry for Jeremy. He stood with his shoulders hunched, looking almost contrite. If she hadn’t gone looking for him… The thought didn’t bear finishing but she knew Jessie, Wolf’s wife and Jeremy’s sister, had come close to burying her brother today. That would haunt her for a very long time.

  White Wolf interrupted her thoughts. “You did well, my sister. I’m proud of you, and when we return to our people, I shall tell all of your bravery.”

  Now that the danger was over, Dove drew herself up proudly. “We have much work to do here. The bear will have to be skinned and the meat removed and dried.” She glared at Jeremy. It would take the rest of the evening to do everything, but out of respect for the animal and the spirits of the world, nothing would be wasted.

  She appraised the body. Long fangs were visible in the beast’s open maw. Those teeth would make a fine necklace, and the fur a nice robe, but instead of feeling joyful at the prizes she’d earned, she felt sad. Though the taking of animals’ lives was a part of daily living, a shadow of regret hung over her. This kill had not been necessary for survival, it had been forced by one man’s ignorance.

  Loud cries filled the air. The cubs still tried to rouse their mother. The two dogs approached the nervous beasts.

  “What of the cubs?” her brother asked her softly. He called the dogs back to his side.

  Dove sighed. Every decision regarding this kill belonged to her. The portioning out of the meat, fur, claws, teeth; it was all her responsibility. Along with the decision as to what to do with the cubs. “They will have to be cared for. I had no choice but to kill their mother, but I cannot take their lives.”

  Yet she had no time to become their mother. Her responsibilities lay with the Lakota children of her tribe who had been sent to attend Wolf and Jessie’s boarding school for the long winter. Her days were filled with them, and with care of her niece and nephew.

  She glared at Jeremy. “Someone has to raise them.”

  Jeremy’s eyes widened. He took a step back and held his hands up, palms out. “Forget it. You do it.”

  Dove set her jaw, determined to make him face the consequences of his actions. “Was it not your unthinking actions that caused me to kill the mother bear?”

  “I don’t know anything about raising cubs.”

  Dove crossed her arms over her breasts. “After saving your life, according to the Sioux way, it now belongs to me.” She ignored her brother’s groan and Jeremy’s sputtering protests. “Did I not save your life?”

  Jeremy’s fingers raked through his hair once more. “Be serious, Dove. Just because—”

  “It is your fault these babies are without a mother. A Lakota warrior would accept what I say. He would not bring dishonor to his mother and father’s tipi.” She slid a sly glance at her brother. “Or his sister’s.”

  Rewarded by an angry flush of color in Jeremy’s face, and eyes flashing green sparks of fire, Dove knew she had him.

  He drew himself up. “I may not be Sioux, but I have as much honor as any of your warriors. The Joneses do not shirk their responsibilities.” Walking away, he picked up his hat and his bow. Jamming his hat back on his head and shouldering his bow, he stalked toward the bear cubs.

  Satisfied, Dove watched the animals scamper away from him. They eluded each of his attempts to capture them. If it wasn’t such a sad situation, she’d laugh.

  “My little sister goads him. Perhaps she shares part of the blame?”

  Her amusement died with her brother’s gentle rebuke. She switched to Lakota. “I did not know he planned to do this.” She glared at her brother.

&nbs
p; Wolf pulled on one of her braids. “You have spent the winter challenging my wife’s brother.”

  Dove avoided his penetrating gaze. His meaning was clear. Had she not goaded him or put him down so often, perhaps he’d have shared his plans with her or invited her to join him. The whole incident might have been averted. She said nothing.

  Without another word, Wolf left. Her silence had convicted her.

  Dove sighed. In the manner of her people, her brother had shown his shame. Her own sense of right and wrong would do the rest. Today illustrated just how much to blame she’d been: While most of Jeremy’s and her challenges had been more fun than serious, they were both naturally competitive and had far too much pride.

  Today’s outcome might truly have ended in tragedy.

  She glared at Jeremy. There was no doubt he’d wanted to impress her. And she really couldn’t blame him. Ever since their first meeting three years ago, she hadn’t been able to forget him, either. And when she’d met him again last fall, they’d picked up right where they’d left off, bickering and trying to prove who was better.

  Both their actions over the long winter had been driven by the strong attraction between them, one that she would continue to fight. Although her first thought upon learning Jeremy had returned with Wolf was relief that he hadn’t chosen a mate.

  That should have made her feel good, but the trouble was, while she wanted him, despite his youthful ignorance and charm, she could not have him. And the more he tried to impress and win her, the more she fought back to prove to both of them that he wasn’t the great warrior her grandmother had prophesied she’d marry.

  Frowning, she watched him. He was directing the two dogs and had managed to separate the cubs from their mother, but he was having trouble herding them away. Shouldering her bow, she set off for the barn to get a length of rope. The way he was going, it’d take all night to get those cubs safely secured.

  Chapter Two

  That night, Jeremy sat on a bed of hay in a stall with two crying cubs instead of lying on his plump feather bed, or with Wolf, Jessie and Dove sitting before a fire. Some nights they talked until exhaustion drove them to slumber. Other evenings, they read by candlelight or spoke of their students and the coming day.

  Watching great humped shadows dance and twist on the wall as the restless cubs clambered over and around him, he knew he could leave. No one expected him to stay out here all night. But he couldn’t abandon them. Their frantic cries made him feel lower than a snake.

  In the past he’d hunted at will, sometimes for food, sometimes for the sheer thrill of the chase. Not once had he given thought to any young left behind. Tipping his head back against the rough stall wall, he knew it was crazy to think of past kills, but after spending the afternoon and evening trying to calm the cubs, he couldn’t help it.

  He liked animals, had enjoyed Sadie’s pups and the barnyard kittens, but had never given much thought to babies born in the wild.

  Pacing outside the stall, Sadie, Jessie’s dog, stopped to shove her nose through the slats. She sniffed, sat back and whined. “Sorry, girl. You can’t come in. You’ll just upset these two.” Moments later, a large gray-white dog trotted over. “Go away, Wapayna.” Wolf’s dog just gave him a sappy grin. Half wolf and only three years of age, he ignored Jeremy and paced up and down, eyeing the cubs with friendly interest, which aggravated the already nervous animals.

  Standing, Jeremy shooed both dogs out then sat back down on the bed of musty hay left over from the summer harvest. He winced when one cub leaped across his lap and bumped into his injured shoulder. At his hiss, she darted away and ran smack-dab into the stall wall. She lifted her nose high and continued to cry for her mother. The other cub, also a female, dug her sharp nails into his thigh when she scampered frantically over him. The pain did little to lessen the guilt. It was his fault these cubs were orphaned and he’d give anything to redo the day.

  He rubbed his eyes and yawned. The world outside the barn had settled down for the night hours ago. “Aw, come on, you two. Go to sleep,” Jeremy begged, feeling tired, guilty and helpless as the cubs continued to grieve.

  The lantern hanging outside the stall flickered, warning that unless refilled soon, it’d leave him sitting in the dark. He ignored it. Instead, he grabbed the makeshift bottle his sister had fashioned, snagged a cub and stuck the rubber nipple into her small mouth. Milk dribbled down over the brown fur as the baby struggled free and ran to the other side of the stall. Jeremy tried feeding her sister with the same results.

  Getting to his knees, he tried coaxing them to come to him. “Come on, drink just a little. If you die, she’ll blame me.” He sat back when the cubs ran for the corner. She’d be right, he thought disgustedly. He’d made a Judy of himself earlier. His own foolish need to prove himself had gotten him into this mess. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at the cubs, wishing he could relive the afternoon. He’d never meant for something like this to happen.

  All he’d wanted was for Dove to respect—maybe admire—him just a little. Well, maybe she had. He thought of their kiss, how passion had exploded between them, how connected he’d felt to her. It had been everything he’d imagined. More, even. For years he’d dreamed of this moment and it couldn’t have been sweeter. But reality had smashed it to bits. After today’s disastrous episode, her contempt toward him was stronger than ever. He’d blown it for sure. Dove wasn’t speaking to him at all now.

  And to top it off, Jessie wasn’t speaking to him either. He winced at the memory. Though two years younger, she’d always bossed him about. But of all his siblings, he and she were the closest, coming to each other’s aid during times of trouble. Not this time. Jessie had been furious when she’d learned what he’d done, furious enough even to ignore that she was pregnant and to give him a sound dressing-down.

  “Good thing James isn’t around,” he told the cubs, needing to hear a voice, even if it was his own. His eldest brother would have ripped any flesh from his hide that Jessie’s tongue-lashing had missed.

  Slumping against the rough wall of the barn with a layer of hay covering his legs, the cubs trying to stick their heads through the slates of the stall gate, Jeremy decided that if it meant having his big brother here to talk to, to ask advice, he’d gladly take the lecture. He missed the man who’d raised him and his siblings after their parents died in a coach accident.

  Resting his chin on his knee, a sharp wave of loneliness washed over him. There wasn’t anyone who understood that he really hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d truly wanted to help. He grimaced. And he had hoped to make an impression on Dove. Hell, he’d done that. Big-time. Unfortunately, the wrong impression. But ever since he’d first met White Dove at Fort Laramie, he’d wanted her to take notice of him—as a man. Instead, from day one she’d taken great pains to point out his shortcomings, flaunt her own superiority and challenge his manhood.

  Three years had passed since that first meeting. She’d gone back to her tribe with her family, and he’d traveled on to Oregon with his. He’d tried to forget the Sioux beauty, but White Dove was unlike any woman he’d ever met. During that first winter in Oregon he’d had ample opportunity as a young, single male to find a woman to marry, but none of them came close to drawing his eye.

  Dove fascinated him, haunted his dreams—waking and sleeping—so much so that when spring arrived, bringing with it the imminent departure of Wolf, Jessie and their babies back to the Nebraska Territory, he’d jumped at the chance to accompany them—all under the pretext of helping them start their boarding school.

  Jessie knew him too well to be fooled. She’d tried to talk him out of it, warning him that Dove had probably already married. It hadn’t mattered, though. Jeremy had had to go. Had to know. Had to risk coming all this way or forever wonder and ask, “What if?”

  He stared at his hands. His chest ached. Heartache? What
a fool he’d been. He should have stayed in Oregon. Dove didn’t want him. Hell, most of the time she didn’t appear to like him much. But that kiss! He didn’t know what to think. He closed his eyes, reliving every sweet moment: the feel of her in his arms, strong and soft, shy and bold, sweet and—

  The sharp prick of claws on his arm drew Jeremy from his memories. He stared at the flickering lantern. Still, that kiss had been something. “Sweet. Just so damn sweet.” Why had he had to kiss her? It made her subsequent rejection, her scorn of him hurt all the more. He’d tasted heaven only to have it wrenched from him.

  The yellow light illuminating the stables flickered then seemed to grow brighter. Down the corridor, a second lantern held high moved toward him. “Jeremy?”

  “Down here, Jess,” he called out, wondering if his sister had come back to yell at him some more. He wouldn’t blame her. Hell, hadn’t he been kicking himself all evening? She peered over the stall gate. Torn between wanting company and not wanting to face his sister with the evidence of his stupidity clambering around whining at his feet, Jeremy couldn’t meet her gaze. He’d never done anything so foolhardy or with such horrible consequences.

  “You all right?” Worry laced her voice.

  Relief flowed through him. She wasn’t so mad anymore. He attempted a weak smile. He shrugged his shoulders, then winced. Though the claws hadn’t done too much damage, some of the cuts were deep, and now that the excitement was over, his shoulder had stiffened, and it still throbbed.

  “Guess this beats the brawl I started at the saloon, huh?” Whenever Jessie got mad at him, she’d throw that incident at him. He figured he might as well be the one to bring it up this time. Save her the trouble.

  She set a tray covered with cloth over on the corner of the stall and entered, dropping two quilts onto the hay, sending the two cubs running for the far corners. She knelt down so she wouldn’t frighten them. “Starting a fight over one of them floozies was pretty dumb, but you were young…and a hothead.”