White Dove

by Susan Edwards

  From behind Dove, her father poked his head out the doorway, a look of calculation in eyes set in a face time had left craggy, brown and lined. He motioned for Jeremy to enter. “Come. Sit.” He returned to his seat without addressing Dove.

  Jeremy stepped past her and sat in front of the fire. She followed, not liking the air of determination he wore. Though everyone else sat, she stood, facing him across the fire. She turned to her brother. As chief, he’d agree with her. He’d tell Jeremy the idea was crazy.

  The silence thickened while Golden Eagle glanced from one to the other. Finally, he addressed Jeremy. “What is it you come to talk about?”

  “I want to return with you and learn how to become a warrior.” He kept his gaze on her father.

  Exasperated, Dove looked from one somber male to the other. Surely neither would take this seriously! But the avid interest in her father’s features worried her. He wanted her married and didn’t care to whom. Hurt sliced through her heart.

  Still refusing to address her father, she spoke to her brother. “He doesn’t know what he’s asking. He’s just being stubborn. It’s a game to him. Life is a game. He puts others in danger. He doesn’t stop to think before he acts.”

  Jeremy swiveled his head around, his eyes a brilliant shade of green. “I may not be perfect, but I know what I want…and I am going to do this.” He grinned at her. “Then you’ll have to find another excuse to refuse me.”

  “You think to become my husband? What makes you think I would consider you for my mate?” Dove had to force scorn into her voice to keep at bay her body’s reaction to the news that he was openly pursuing her, that he was even willing to return and learn the way of the Sioux.

  Jeremy looked smug. “Your kisses say you are not indifferent to me.” Satisfaction mingled with a bit of defiance as he glanced over at their audience.

  Watching her father’s eyes light up with interest, Dove flushed and threw Jeremy an angry glare. Now both her father and brother knew that they’d kissed. Though the day was on the cool side, waves of embarrassment left her uncomfortably hot.

  Golden Eagle leaned forward and addressed Jeremy. “Becoming a warrior is not easy. Our life is hard. There is much to learn.”

  The young man sat straighter, his hands flat on his knees. “I can learn.” He paused. “I will learn.”

  “You wish to prove to my daughter that you are a worthy choice for husband?”

  “Yes.”

  White Dove spoke up to her brother. “Tell my father that the white man does not have horses or furs. He has nothing to offer me.” Liar, her heart screamed. Dove fought her conflicting reactions. A good warrior stayed focused and true to the path laid out before him. She could do no less and would tell her father so. Golden Eagle’s next question took her breath away.

  “Do you love my daughter?” he asked Jeremy.

  Instead of answering right away, he appeared to mull over her father’s question. Why that irritated her, Dove didn’t know.

  Jeremy finally turned to Dove. “When I speak of what is in my heart, it must first be to her. She has not allowed me to get to know her, so she does not know what I feel. I hope to change this.”

  She should be glad he hadn’t said yes. But somehow, she’d expected him to do just that. Realizing she was holding her breath, she released it slowly and relaxed her curled fingers. “It will do you no good.”

  Jeremy ignored her and addressed Golden Eagle. “You have said she must marry by summer’s end. I wish to court her and prove myself worthy.”

  Dove felt her resolve weaken at the knowledge that he was willing to go through the rigorous training for her. He was willing to learn a new lifestyle for her. An image came to her: them sharing a tipi, taking walks with their children—brown-and black-haired, green-eyed and blue. Would it be so bad? She walked to the opening of the tipi and stared out. Spotting the house, the barn and other white man’s buildings of wood and sod, her dream crashed to her feet. Jeremy wasn’t Sioux. It didn’t matter if he spent the summer with them. He’d want to return to this.

  She didn’t believe that he meant to live in her world always, and she would not live in his. To have even considered for a moment that it could have worked was foolish on her part. Angry that a part of her seemed to wither and die, she stared into his hope-filled eyes, then slid her glance to her father, meeting his stony glare. She then turned to her brother. “You are chief. You cannot allow this. What if he is hurt or killed? He is not one of us.”

  “He will learn.” Her father’s features remained impassive as he spoke.

  Dove threw out her hands and gave up trying to talk through her brother. Striking Thunder seemed more than content to let father and daughter battle it out. “What if someone dies at his hands? How will our people regard him then?”

  Jeremy’s face paled with her obvious reminder of his foolishness with the honey and bears. Guilt swamped her but she was right. “Our warriors are taught from birth. It is not something learned in a few weeks’ time.”

  Golden Eagle leaned back against his backrest, looking pleased with this turn of events. “On the other hand, daughter, any man, white or Sioux, could learn and benefit from the rigorous training our warriors go through. Do our warriors not train all the time?” He paused. “I say it is his decision. Let him prove himself. Let him try to win my daughter’s hand. Has she not told him that she will only marry a warrior? Let him take up that challenge.”

  Striking Thunder stood. He didn’t pace, just looked from Dove to Jeremy. “Our father is wise. I agree with him in this. If it is Jeremy’s wish to become a warrior, then he will be welcome among us.”

  Dove could not believe how events had changed. She’d lost again. Desperate, she tossed out the first objection that came to mind. “He doesn’t even speak Lakota!” How could things have changed so quickly against her? One day she’d been happy and satisfied with her life, though it had gotten a bit boring. Now it seemed to be spinning out of control. Unktomi had come to visit. This had to be a joke. Or maybe Jeremy had bewitched her father.

  Striking Thunder frowned. “Language will be a problem. Though our family, and a few others, know English, most do not.”

  Dove gratefully grabbed on to this, her last hope. “How can he become a warrior if he does not understand our language? Surely he does not expect us to speak English for him. After all, it is he who wishes to become one of us.”

  “Our people learn the habit of every animal placed here on Maka. Are they not all our relatives in the circle of life? Do we not understand those who live side by side with us?”

  “He is not Sioux.” Dove threw the words directly at her father—her first to him since she’d left the tribe last fall.

  “Then he will learn. And you will help. As his sister schooled our children in the ways of the white man, you will show him the ways of the Sioux.”

  Dove stared at her father in speechless disbelief.

  Golden Eagle stood and gathered his bow and quiver of arrows. “He will learn, as we have learned the white man’s tongue. As our children learned to speak English during the winter. As I and many of our people learned from a trapper who came each winter to stay with us when I was but a child. It is good to know many languages. It is our duty to teach him our ways if it is his wish.”

  Regaining her speech, she shouted, “Hiya! I will not be a part of this. Someone else can teach him.” Furious, she turned to leave.

  Her father’s voice rose in anger. “Do you forget respect to your elders?”

  Hesitating at the door, Dove took several deep breaths. She hated the strife, the anger between her and her father. She longed for the easy camaraderie they’d once shared. Staring at his bow and arrows, she longed to hunt with him again. “You ask too much of me.”

  “His sister is family. The duty belongs to this family. You wil
l spend time each day with him as his teacher. He will learn Lakota from you. He will learn our history and our customs from you. If he fails, then you fail.” With the matter decided, Golden Eagle brushed past her and left the tipi.

  Dove fought back tears of frustration as she turned to Striking Thunder, her last hope. He shook his head silently. Our father has spoken.

  Knowing that it would do no good to argue with her brother, she turned to Jeremy. “This is a game for you, but not for me. When the breath of winter is once again upon us, you will long to return to your houses of wood. You will leave and forget all you’ve learned. And if I married you, you’d expect me to follow.” She took a deep breath.

  “Know this, White Man. I will never leave my people. Unlike my sister and brother who have chosen to live among the whites, I will never leave the land which gave me life. Think of that before you decide. For I will never live in a house of wood.”

  * * *

  Jeremy watched her storm out of the tipi. “I won’t fail,” he whispered.

  “I hope not, my brother,” Striking Thunder said, smiling. “But be warned. There will be days when you will wish you had stayed here.”

  “I’m really going!” His awe mingled with high excitement.

  Striking Thunder gathered his bow and arrows. His dark eyes glittered with amusement. “As I said, you may regret it.” He paused at the entrance. “I feel it only fair to warn you that this won’t be easy. You will be tested. And you won’t be given special attention. You will succeed or fail on your own actions.”

  Jeremy sobered. “I know.” And he did. Never before had he been in such control of his life. The feeling gave him a heady high. All his life, he’d always had two older brothers to lean on, and even Jessie. Life had been easy, he realized, with nothing much expected of him. “I want to do this. I have to do this.” The words came out fiercely.

  Nodding, Striking Thunder motioned for him to go out the door first. “Do you do this just to win my sister?”

  Swallowing the impulse to just blurt the word yes, Jeremy gave it some thought. Winning White Dove would make his life complete. But deep down, he also knew he needed to find himself, to learn who he was and what he could become. He suddenly realized there was something else at stake here: his own sense of being.

  “No. I also do this for myself. Maybe Dove is right. Maybe I’ll make a lousy warrior, but I have to find out for myself. But make no mistake, I also seek the chance to win Dove’s love.”

  “Then you shall live as one of us. Know, though, that Dove speaks true when she says she will not change her mind about living the life of the white man. If you wish to marry her, you will have to adopt our life forever. I hope you don’t live to regret it.”

  Jeremy glanced around, excitement taking hold. He felt as though he’d been reborn. In just a few days, he’d leave all he knew behind for something new. He had a chance to earn something that had not been given to him, and whether he succeeded or failed would depend only upon him.

  Jeremy thought of something. “Does this mean I get an Indian name, too?”

  Striking Thunder’s lips twitched. “Do you not already have one?”

  Jeremy made a face. “The children call me Hunkuya Mato.”

  “You do not like that name?” Amusement lurked in Striking Thunder’s dark eyes.

  Remembering the snickers and laughter when the first boy referred to him by the name, and the grins and amused looks he’d received from the Sioux since their arrival, he heaved a heavy sigh and said honestly, “Well, not really.”

  “Then you must earn another name.”

  The man who’d just become his chief turned and walked away. Jeremy let himself out of the tipi and headed toward the house to tell Jessie. As he went, he vowed his first order of business would be to earn himself a new name. Who had ever heard of a warrior named Mother Bear?

  * * *

  White Dove’s mother sat in a small overstuffed chair with old and worn fabric covering its lumpy cushion. She was so tired these days. Today, she’d felt driven to come visit a place that held so many memories. She knew it might be her last chance.

  Leaning her head back, she smiled. Life had been good to her. She glanced around. She loved this house. This chair had once belonged to her mother and the hand-carved rocking chair that Jessie sat in had been crafted by her pa. She didn’t remember much of her ma, but she remembered all the nights she and Pa had sat here, in front of a roaring fire.

  While she’d done the mending, he’d told her stories and fallen asleep, leaving her to her own devices until the fire died down to glowing embers. Then she’d wake him, and he’d stumble into the bed beneath the loft while she climbed up to go to her own place.

  Now her son and his wife sat in these chairs each night to enjoy the warm firelight. Someday, when they were a bit older, the twins would claim the loft. Sam, it seemed, wanted to claim that space now. White Wind watched as her grandchild managed to climb three rungs of the ladder before his mother jumped up to stop him. White Wind handed him a noisy gourd rattle to distract him.

  Life goes on, she thought, watching Sarah playing with a small doll she had made for the child. An endless circle. Raised by John Cartier, she’d had no idea that her real father had been a Sioux warrior. She’d been conceived in the harsh wilderness, born and raised here in this house until she learned of her Sioux heritage.

  For the last thirty years, she’d lived among the Sioux, calling them friend and family. And when her time came, she’d die as Sioux. She’d die a happy and contented woman, though worried over her family. Her husband. She rubbed her left breast, felt the weak beat of her heart. More and more she had to stop to rest. She feared her time was near.

  The arrival of Emma, Striking Thunder’s wife, with their squalling five-month-old baby jerked her from her sweet musings. “Little Flame refuses to sleep,” her daughter-in-law moaned.

  Holding out her arms, White Wind took her red-haired grandson and snuggled him close, murmuring softly while jiggling, rocking and patting his back. He stopped screaming as a burp erupted from him.

  Emma sat on the floor with her legs crossed. The twins crawled over to her. When Jessie and Sofia came out of the kitchen and joined them, White Wind smiled. It was good to have her daughters all together once again. Only Star Dreamer was not here, but she hoped that her daughter and her husband, Grady, and their children, would visit during the summer, as they had the last two years.

  The front door burst open and Dove stormed in, turning to pace before them all. “I can’t believe it. This is the most witkotkoke thing he has come up with yet.”

  White Wind lifted her brow. “What is foolish? Who do you refer to?”

  “Jeremy. My father. My brother. They cannot be serious.” Dove glared at all of them. “Jeremy is returning with us. He plans to become a warrior!”

  Jessie’s jaw dropped. “He what?”

  Staring at Jeremy’s sister, Dove threw out her hands. “You must stop him.” She flung herself on the floor beside Emma.

  White Wind tilted her head. “Is he not a man to make his own decisions?”

  Dove’s flashing blue eyes narrowed. “He is not Sioux.”

  “Neither was I,” Emma said softly.

  White Wind nodded. “Nor was I raised by my true father’s people. And has your sister not adopted the ways of the white man? Why say you that Jeremy cannot adopt our ways?”

  Jessie leaned forward. “I know Jeremy is rash sometimes and he doesn’t always think before he acts—a family trait we seem to share,” she admitted with a wry grin, “but he means well. He only wishes to do this for you.”

  Dove threw out her hands. “But it is different with you and White Wolf. The work you do whether you live as white or Sioux is not all that different—but just learning how to become a warrior will not make Jeremy
one.”

  Emma frowned. “She has a point. Men of both races hunt and engage in war, but for the Sioux, both are a way of everyday life. I still fear when my husband goes on raids that he might not return. Jeremy may not realize what he is getting into.”

  “Exactly. And what happens if I say yes? Will he grow tired of our ways and wish to return to his world?” Dove glanced at each woman. Their support and understanding eased some of the sting of her father’s betrayal. “I will never leave my people to live among the whites.”

  White Wind smiled across at her youngest daughter. “Of that I am glad. Do not fret, daughter. It is a good thing for Jeremy to return with us.” She held up a hand when Dove started to protest. “This will be a good test. Only by living as one of us can he know if he wishes to adopt our way of life.”

  Jessie smiled and reached over to take Dove’s hand. “Give him a chance.”

  The door opened. The women all glanced over. For a brief moment, Striking Thunder stood there, staring at the group of women. Then he turned on his heel and left. White Wind smiled. It was clear he hadn’t expected them all to be together, and it was wise of him to leave. Especially with her youngest so upset.

  Dove jumped to her feet. “I will do as my father has ordered, but I am not pleased. I will speak to my brother of this.” She stormed out the front door, after him.

  Emma shook her head. “My poor husband.”

  Jessie rubbed her swollen belly. “I daresay he’ll handle Dove—and Jeremy—just fine.”

  The two sisters by marriage exchanged amused glances. Emma nodded, her green eyes alight with amusement as she, too, stood. “So true. Coming?” she asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Jessie stood.

  “Miss what?” Sofia left the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She took the vacant rocker and held her feet out with a sigh.