White Dove

by Susan Edwards

  Jeremy murmured softly to Jane as he rode. From parenting bears to orphan children in just the space of a few months… He was afraid to ask what came next.

  * * *

  Dove watched over her mother, worried. White Wind sat before the fire, leaning against her backboard, her face drawn and gray. The sewing she’d started lay in a heap in her lap. Since losing her husband more than two weeks ago, she had grown significantly weaker. She was fading, Dove realized with a pang. Without her father, her mother had lost the will to live. Going to the pot, she dished out a bowl of stew, mostly clear, nourishing broth.

  “Here, Mother. You need to eat.”

  White Wind glanced up at Dove. “I’m really not hungry, daughter.” Her voice lacked life.

  Dove’s heart twisted into a knot. Was life so awful now for White Wind that she felt it better to let it slip away? She felt a desperate desire to make her mother live. “Please, just a little.”

  White Wind gave in with a weak smile. As she sipped, her eyes kept going to the doorway of the tipi. Dove knew she fretted over Striking Thunder’s return. Truthfully, Dove also worried. They should have been back days before. What had happened? Was Jeremy all right? She clutched her stomach. He had to be. If anything happened to him, she’d blame herself for acting in such a manner to make him do this. Why had she been so set on him proving himself?

  “Jeremy will be fine, Dove.” White Wind set her bowl down, the broth barely touched.

  Dove stared outside. The fact that her mother had addressed her by name reassured her somewhat. Her mother only used her name when concerned, and if she was concerned, then she was at least aware of what was going on. With the way the last two weeks had gone, Dove hadn’t been sure.

  “Of course he will. He is a warrior.” She forced cheer to her voice.

  “I may be tired, but I am not blind, daughter.” White Wind’s sharp tone drew Dove to her side.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I don’t want you to worry.”

  White Wind reached out to stroke Dove’s cheek. “I’m sorry I’ve worried you.” She attempted a smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “I have no plans to leave you. I have a wedding to plan first.”

  “If he returns,” Dove whispered, needing to talk to her mother about her fears. Emma’s arrival with her infant son interrupted her. It was just as well. Her mother looked tired. She watched her sister-in-law place her son into his grandmother’s arms.

  Immediately, White Wind’s taut features relaxed. She hummed and rocked her grandson. Emma nodded to Dove, letting her know she’d sit with her mother-in-law for a bit. Dove stood and left. Outside, she took several deep, calming breaths, refusing to believe that death would soon claim her mother, too. Was this what love did to one? What if Jeremy didn’t return? Would she herself waste away, give up her will to live?

  No. But the spark in her life would be gone, she knew.

  White Dove clenched her hands into fists. “I will not let her give up.” But in her heart, she knew she was helpless to do anything. And that hurt. Dove hated feeling like this. Too much was happening, and too fast. Her emotions raced out of control, threatening to burst. She needed Jeremy, wanted him safe so he could never leave her. “He should not have gone,” she said without meaning to say the words.

  Dove spun around. She needed to be alone. Fear for his life, her mother’s welfare, twisted with her grieving heart. Without gathering her bow and arrows, she left the village on horseback.

  * * *

  Breathing deeply with the wind in her face, the green grass flying beneath the hooves of her horse, and her hair streaming freely behind her, Dove headed out across the prairie. To her right, a large herd of antelope lifted their heads, watching her warily. She ignored them, knowing she wouldn’t be able to focus and concentrate on making a kill with her mind in turmoil.

  Uppermost in her mind were thoughts of Jeremy. Where was he? Was he all right? Had he been hurt? Worry drove her. Her brother and his warriors had been gone much longer than anticipated. She raced across the land, her worry turning to anger against her brother. Why had he allowed Jeremy to go? He wasn’t ready to take on the Crow. If anything happened to him, she’d never forgive him—or herself.

  Reaching the line of tall pines that led up into the hills, she dismounted and led her mare to a concealing clump of bushes and hobbled her. Then she set off on foot. Though she shouldn’t have left camp, she desperately needed to be alone. When she reached the base of a towering mass of gray rock, she started climbing, making her way to the flat top.

  There, a circle of rocks drew her. The isolation, and the feeling of being so close to the spirits, made this place a favorite among vision seekers. She’d never sought a vision though she’d met a woman during one of the summer gatherings of the tribes who had. But it wasn’t a vision she sought. It was peace. Her world had been turned upside down. Her father’s murder, Jeremy, her mother’s weakening health—there were too many changes, and no answers.

  Dove turned in a slow circle, her face lifted to the wide expanse above. She didn’t pray to any one spirit. She prayed to the One-Who-Was-All. She prayed to Wakan Tanka. “You took my father,” she cried. “Why? We had not enough time. Her stomach clenched. It hurt so badly to know that anger had taken precious time away from her father—yet had she not left her people, she might not have fallen in love with Jeremy.

  Standing with the clouds above her head, and the land she loved far below, waves of grief swept through her. If only she hadn’t been so stubborn. If only she had forgiven him sooner, he’d still be with them. They wouldn’t have been sitting at the river that night. He wouldn’t have been an easy target for the Crow.

  Sinking down, she wept, allowing her grief to finally release itself. She’d never hear Golden Eagle’s voice again, or his praise. He’d never know her children, never see her marry. Thoughts of all she could never share with him crowded her mind and poured through her heart.

  Dove cried until there were no more tears left. Dry sobs wracked her body. Finally, she lifted her head and glanced around. Memories flooded her mind. She recalled being a little girl, sitting here with her father, listening to stories and sharing a meal of cold meat and fresh chokecherries. This had been one of their special places.

  Tipping her head back, she contemplated the white line of clouds drifting lazily across the sky. There were no answers for her this day. Her father had been murdered. An arrow in his back. He had not died honorably. Another wave of guilt swept through her. The Crow had managed to sneak up on them. Why had she not been aware of danger? Why hadn’t anyone known? Anger crept back into her. What had been a tender, loving moment had forever been changed into one of pain and grief and guilt.

  Fighting a fresh wave of tears, Dove took some pleasure at the coming retribution. Whoever had done this would not live to boast of his deed. Striking Thunder and the rest of the war party would see to it that Golden Eagle’s spirit was freed to go to the spirit world. Without revenge, her father’s spirit would roam the earth forever.

  Standing, she paced. Her mind felt scattered, her heart empty and bruised. Her eyes stung with fresh tears. She hated this waiting, should have been allowed to seek revenge. Her skills were equal to those of any warrior. But because she was a woman, she’d had to remain behind. Thinking of Jeremy, she fought back annoyance. Even a man who was not as skilled could go—because he was a man.

  And that was how it would be, she thought. Once married, had children, she would always remain behind at their tipi, while her husband hunted and rode to war. If she married Jeremy, her life would change. His would not. That thought should have made her angry. But it didn’t. She loved Jeremy. She’d take him for her husband no matter the consequences. The warmth that washed through her was surprising. She would marry him as soon as she could.

  The death of her father proved
that there wasn’t always a tomorrow. Hadn’t she wanted Jeremy to make love to her for that very reason? And he hadn’t, because she hadn’t trusted him.

  Truthfully, Dove knew she hadn’t trusted herself. She’d known Jeremy was special but hadn’t realized that all along her grandmother had only wanted her to follow her heart. Dove had built up her future husband to be a person who didn’t exist. And her need for this perfect warrior might have cost her the man she loved. She thought of her father’s words: “Seek a man whose heart is as generous as yours. For he will see the truth, and act in an honorab1e manner.”

  Was there a man whose heart was any more generous or kind than Jeremy’s? She didn’t think so. Nor was there a man as honorable. He’d taken charge of those bear cubs and insisted on going with the warriors to avenge her father. What more did she want?

  Passion. Oh yes, definitely. Just thinking about Jeremy’s kisses, and how he’d touched her, and the feelings he’d evoked deep within her, made her feel weak. But it wasn’t just how he made her body feel, it was how he made her feel in her heart and soul. His joy, his laughter, his teasing, even his challenges; around Jeremy she felt alive. Life with Jeremy would never be dull. Being loved by him would never grow old. He was her other half. The light in her soul.

  With insight, she better understood what her mother was feeling. Without her father, her mother had lost the will to live. Dove tried to imagine life without Jeremy and couldn’t. No, she was afraid to think about life without him. For the first time in two weeks, her mind cleared of the range of emotions that had been draining her of energy: anger and grief over her father’s death, frustration, resentment and fear over Jeremy, and worry for her mother.

  Holding out her hands, she tipped her head back. She had faith that the spirits would watch over him. Hadn’t he been visited by Owl-woman? Dove didn’t know the future, still wasn’t completely sure he’d adopt her lifestyle—especially after he returned from his first encounter with an enemy tribe—but she wanted to have a chance to work out any differences.

  To assure herself that he’d return unharmed, she stepped into the sacred circle. From a pouch hanging from her neck, she pinched a small amount of sweet grass and tossed it around her. She repeated this four times—once in each direction. Then she stood in the center and prayed, her voice lifting loudly so the Great Spirit would hear her. “Here me, please. Keep him safe,” she begged one last time.

  The cloud cover broke. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face; the bright ray of light turned the back of her eyelids a reddish-orange. Lowering her hands, she kept her head tipped back.

  Something brushed against the side of her face. Startled, she opened her eyes and glanced around. She spotted a downy-soft feather floating to the ground. Above her, a shadow passed between her and the sun. She glanced up to see an owl soaring across the sky. Bringing the feather to her lips, she kissed it. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Watch over him. Bring him home to me,” she begged, watching the owl until it became nothing more than a speck in the sky.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jeremy rode proudly toward camp. Never had there been a more welcome sight. The fact that Dove awaited him somewhere within made it even better. Striking Thunder dropped back until they rode side by side.

  “You may take this one back upon your horse.” He swung Beth Ann around to ride behind Jeremy, who sent his chief a questioning look.

  “They are your prize.”

  “My prize?”

  Striking Thunder lifted a brow. “You captured them.”

  “No. I rescued them.”

  “It makes no difference. It is the same in a raiding party, but don’t fear; my people love children. It will make no difference if they are white or Sioux—or even Crow. Captive children are usually adopted into the family. They become one of us.”

  “I’m glad they will be accepted,” he said. They’d gone through enough.

  “Most warriors would give them to another to raise.”

  “If I cannot find their relatives, then I’ll raise them.” From what he’d learned over the last few days from Beth Ann, her family had been heading west—alone—when their wagon was attacked. Their father had been killed.

  Striking Thunder sighed. “They are young. It is possible they could be returned to your world.”

  Jeremy knew Striking Thunder spoke the truth. Most women or older girls who had spent time as captives before being rescued lived forever with the stigma of their ordeal. “If I cannot find their family, I will raise them.” With White Dove, he added silently, hoping she’d accept Beth Ann and Jane.

  The tipis grew closer. To his surprise, the other warriors fell off to the side, allowing Jeremy and Striking Thunder to take the lead. He searched the crowd but didn’t see Dove. Behind him, the warriors let loose with whoops and yells to signal their triumphant return.

  Jane whimpered and Beth Ann’s arms tightened. “Hey, it’s all right, you two. We’re home.”

  “It’s not my home,” Beth Ann said in a small voice.

  Jeremy sighed. Jane didn’t pose a problem, but Beth Ann was one angry little girl. And who could blame her?

  “Jeremy, what in the world?” Jessie and Emma ran up to him.

  “Hey, Jess.” He grinned at his sister’s shocked face. Then he greeted Emma. Still, there was no sign of Dove. Distracted, he dismounted, pulling Jane down with him. “Now you, Beth Ann.”

  She didn’t move.

  “It’s all right,” he cajoled. He pointed at Jessie. “This is my sister, Jessie. And this is Emma.” To the two women, he said, “This is Beth Ann and her sister, Jane.”

  Emma recovered from her surprise first and came forward and held out her hands. “Welcome, Beth Ann. No one will hurt you here.”

  Beth Ann ignored Striking Thunder’s wife and held on to Jeremy. Once more, he scanned the gathering tribe. When Jessie touched his arm, he glanced down at her. “She rode off this morning and hasn’t returned.”

  Jeremy frowned, torn between wanting to find her, and needing to settle the two children. “Listen, Jess, can you take care of Beth Ann and Jane? I want to go find Dove.” He gave Beth Ann a gentle nudge. “Come on, sweetheart. You won’t be harmed here. Trust me, and them. I have to go find White Dove. That’s the woman I told you about, the woman I’m going to marry. Remember? I’ll be back soon.”

  Beth Ann looked as though she were about to protest when Sarah and Sam wobbled up to Jessie. She stared down at the twins. Jessie bent down. “Hi, Beth Ann. This is my son, Sam, and my daughter, Sarah. I was just going to take them to see their grandmother. Would you like to come with us?”

  The little girl didn’t budge. Jeremy sighed. “Come on. I’ll go with you.” He led the way to White Wind’s tipi. When he got close, a loud gurgling roar of delight warned him that he’d been spotted. Quickly, he handed Jane to Jessie and jumped to the side just as the two cubs ran into him, knocking him down. Laughing, he tried to fend them off but they were too busy licking and climbing all over him.

  “Ow, you big, lumbering beasts! Get off!” He managed to get to his knees and wrap an arm around each thick neck. “Geez, you two have grown!”

  Beth Ann stared with wide eyes. “Those are bears.”

  Laughing, Jeremy pointed. “Yep. This one is Cikala and that is her sister, Cuweku. Come met them.”

  With small, hesitant steps, Beth Ann approached.

  Jeremy held out his hand, pulling Beth Ann to him. With his other hand, he kept the cubs from knocking her down. “Wow. I’ve never touched a bear before.”

  Remembering Makes Music and his ignorance regarding cubs, Jeremy realized what it meant to be a parent. He guided her hand, and told her how he’d come to be “mother” to the cubs. “But you must never go near any other cub or bear, no matter how friendly they might seem. And these you must always treat w
ith respect.”

  While kneeling there, he told her the dangers of raising bear cubs, but also the joys. Finally he stood and shooed the cubs away. Jessie handed Jane to him. Emma held his horse. Jeremy took Beth Ann’s hand and they continued on.

  “Well, are you going to tell us what happened?” This came from Jessie.

  “Not much to tell. I rescued these girls.”

  “What of their mother?” Emma asked softly.

  He shook his head, wishing he’d been able to save her. Her death would haunt him forever and leave him with regrets, even though he knew there was no way he could have saved her.

  “You’re a hero, Jeremy,” Jessie said, tears in her eyes.

  Jeremy stared at his sister. “No. Just a man.” Seeing Beth Ann talking shyly to the twins, he handed Jane over to Jessie. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Jane protested, which brought her sister over. Jessie led them all to a spot to play together. He waited, relieved when it seemed as though the ploy had worked.

  Then he went to change his horse for a fresh mount. After letting Striking Thunder know where he was going, he rode back out to find White Dove.

  * * *

  Standing on the sidelines, Waho could not believe his eyes. To anyone watching, he was as impassive and emotionless as most warriors were brave. But inside, he seethed. Everything had gone wrong. Everything.

  Why hadn’t the white man gotten killed? Or brought dishonor upon himself? He had no skills. Against the Crow, his defeat should have been certain.

  Instead, against all odds, he’d returned, riding at the side of their chief. At Striking Thunder’s side! That really burned. Waho should have gone. It was he who should be riding at the side of the chief. It was he who should have been chief. Though he’d told Dove that he decided to remain behind, the truth was, he hadn’t been chosen to go.

  Around him, the warriors spoke of the white man’s courage in taking the golden-haired children from their enemy. Unbelievably, the white man had earned respect among the Sioux men. They now clapped him on the shoulder as he made his way to his family tipi. The older women smiled and nodded to one another, the younger women giggled and talked in small groups.