When Evelyn sat there saying nothing, he frowned. “Do you not like them?”
Evelyn blinked, astounded at the accuracy of the paintings. “Oh, Black Hawk, I more than like them. They are spectacular! Do you realize what talent you have?”
He smiled again, bringing the picture of the Indian man to eye level. “You told me that your people would buy paintings like this. I want you to see if truly they can be sold. You said sometimes a man can earn money the white man’s way by doing something that he loves. I love to paint. It helps me live the things I can no longer do, helps calm the anger in my soul. I know that you cannot live fully the Indian way, so I must take care of you in the way you are accustomed. If I can sell my paintings, it is a way for me to do that. I would give you all the money. I have no use for it. I will still hunt for our meat and am satisfied with the clothes my sister and grandmother make for me from skins and from the cloth they get on rations day. With the money you can buy yourself the things a white woman needs. I will just paint the pictures. You can sell them.”
She lifted the picture of the mountains and studied it closer, finding not one flaw. “Black Hawk, I have no doubt that you can most certainly receive money for these.” She met his eyes. “I’ll send them off to my father right away. He can find out about places in Milwaukee, or perhaps Chicago, that would take them to sell.”
He nodded, smiling. “If they bring money, it will be a good sign that we have found a way to be together and still live in both worlds.”
She blinked against more tears that wanted to come. “I can see that you love me very much.”
He frowned. “Did you doubt it?”
“There were times…” She set the painting aside and threw her arms around his neck. Black Hawk let go of the other painting and embraced her, standing up and pulling her up with him.
He kissed her hungrily, gratefully. “Do not ever doubt my love, Wenonah.”
“I feel so much more sure about our future together, Black Hawk. And the dress… it’s so beautiful. Are you sure you want me to wear Turtle Woman’s dress when we marry?”
He studied her eyes. “She would be honored, and happy to know how much you care for Little Fox, and he for you. She would be glad to know you have taken my broken heart of sorrow and have filled it with joy again.” Reluctantly, he pulled away. “We must go. I will wrap the paintings in blankets and tie them to a spare horse.”
Her heart aching to stay with him, Evelyn walked over and carefully folded the dress, putting it back into the parfleche. “I must thank Little Fox for his beautiful gift.”
“He will come with us. I wish for him to continue staying with you and going to school. He could stay here and go with Many Birds, but you will become closer if he lives with you.”
“I love having him with me. When he is gone, I miss him and feel very lonely now.”
Black Hawk pulled on his deerskin coat, tying it at the front with rawhide strings. Their eyes held for a moment in mutual pain at having to part. Evelyn was surprised to realize he had tears in his eyes. “I will go and get Little Fox,” he finally told her. As he turned and went out, a stiff wind blew against the tipi. Evelyn just then realized that in spite of the chill inside, she had not noticed it until now. She had lain safe and warm in Black Hawk’s arms.
“I wanted to take you home this way,” Black Hawk told Evelyn. He led her along the Grand River, where the land was more heavily wooded. “It is not a place you should ride alone, because none of my people are camped here, but it is prettier. I like it here because it is so peaceful. Farther east there is another Sioux village.”
“Why don’t more of the Sioux camp right here along the river, where they’re close to better grass and water?” Evelyn rode beside him, and Little Fox followed with the packhorse.
“They would if the agency would let them. The agency tells them where they can place their tipis. They say we must preserve this area for a while, until the land farther north and west has been well grazed. Even on land that is still supposed to belong to us, we are told where we can live.”
Evelyn sensed the bitterness in the words. “I’m sorry, Black Hawk.”
An owl hooted nearby, and Black Hawk looked past her at a rising moon, although the sun was still not set. “I must get you back before dark. We will head north now.” He turned his horse, but before they could head away from the trees, two men came charging out of a thicker stand of trees ahead of them. They hooted and whistled as they rode closer, quickly cutting off Black Hawk’s pathway. One of them pulled a rifle from its boot on his saddle.
“Hold up there, Black Hawk!” he called.
Evelyn’s heart pounded with fear. The one with the rifle was middle-aged and sported a dark beard. His clothing was soiled and wrinkled. His companion was much younger, a clean-shaven man wearing much neater clothing. However, his eyes showed a hatred and cunning that spoiled his otherwise handsome appearance.
Black Hawk drew his horse to a halt. “Stay behind me,” he ordered Evelyn and Little Fox. “Who are they?” Evelyn asked.
“Black Hawk can tell you who we are,” the older one sneered. “Can’t you, you troublemaking sonofabitch! I could shoot you right off that horse now and not get in one bit of trouble for it,” he added glaring at Black Hawk.
“You would have to explain your presence to the agency,” Black Hawk answered. “And do not forget there is a white woman present. The agency might not believe me or my son, but they would believe her if she tells them you killed me for no reason.”
Both men leaned over slightly to get a better look at Evelyn. “Even with that hood over your head and that coat on, you look like a nice piece of woman, lady,” the younger one told her. He looked at Black Hawk. “How about it, Black Hawk? Want to trade her for some whiskey?”
“You know what I think of you and your whiskey,” Black Hawk said calmly. “Do not make trouble here, or it is you who will suffer for it. Now you have let yourself be seen by a white woman who has much authority.”
“A woman with authority?” The older one laughed. “All I know is you and some of your young bucks raided our camp a few months back, and you destroyed hundreds of dollars worth of whiskey! That didn’t set too good with the men who sent us, and I’ve got a hunch that even if you was able to catch us and turn us in, you’d be in as much trouble as we would, just for takin’ the law into your own hands—you, a stinkin’ Indian!”
Evelyn watched Black Hawk stiffen, and she was terrified of what could happen here. He had no weapon with him but a hunting knife. “If you were worried about being seen or caught, why did you ride out here to bother us?” she asked. “Let us be on our way. We’ve done you no harm. You’re the ones who let your presence be known!”
The younger one rode closer. “We seen Black Hawk here with a white woman, thought maybe you needed help.” His eyes moved over her. “How come you’re with the big buck here, lady? Or are you a lady? Maybe you aren’t even worth a couple of bottles of whiskey.”
Evelyn bristled. Against Black Hawk’s wishes she rode her horse up beside him, praying Little Fox would stay back if there was trouble. “I am Evelyn Gibbons, a schoolteacher here on the reservation. I was visiting one of the villages to recruit more children, and Black Hawk is accompanying me back to my quarters. His son is coming back with me to attend school. Now get out of our way!”
The young man snickered, glancing over at his companion. “Feisty little thing.”
The older man joined in the light laughter. “Lady, we thought we’d check and see if you needed help,” he said, sitting straighter and leveling his rifle, “but the more I get a look at you, the more I see you don’t need any help. Fact is, I like what I see. Now I’ve got a real hatred for Black Hawk here, and the way I see it, I could kill him and the kid both, and we could take you off with us on the flatboat we’ve got docked down past the trees there, haul you along the Grand to the Mississippi, where there’s a bigger steamboat waitin’ f
or us. Ain’t a man on that riverboat who’d care if you was willin’ or not. We’d all have a good time with you, then dump you off in Omaha, and nobody here would ever know what happened to you.”
Evelyn struggled to keep her composure and show no fear. “You don’t really think you could get away with such a thing! Who are you?”
“They are whiskey traders,” Black Hawk answered for her, keeping his eyes on the older one. “The hairy one is Luke Smith. The young one who cannot keep his manpart small is Marty Able. I have caught them bringing whiskey onto the reservation other times, and once I stopped them. Seth Bridges was with them that day, and Jubal Desmond is the one who was supposed to be patrolling the area where I found them. That is why I told you Bridges and Desmond help men like this, but it could not be proved.”
Evelyn glared at both men. “Well, it can certainly be proved now! I know your names, and I know how you got into the reservation! Where is the whiskey? On your flatboat?”
Luke just kept grinning. “You won’t find any whiskey there. It’s already been took care of. Anybody finds us now, we’re clean as a whistle. We was fixin’ to go back when we seen you comin’ along with the troublemaker here. We figured out here, with nobody around, maybe we can get us a woman to go back with us. Ole Seth was supposed to trade us off one of his daughters, but he never came through.”
Evelyn shivered at the words. So, Seth Bridges was abusing his daughters, just as she suspected. Had he also “traded off” poor Lucille to Sergeant Desmond for something? Maybe for whiskey? She would never believe Lucille willingly went to that dance with the man, or to the circus. Something was terribly wrong!
“Black Hawk can hand you over with no trouble, or we can do this the hard way, if that’s what it takes,” Marty said. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the pommel of his saddle. “What will it be, Black Hawk?”
Evelyn gasped when Black Hawk suddenly ducked and charged his horse forward, at the same time letting out a chilling war whoop. Luke’s rifle fired, but the bullet whizzed over Black Hawk’s head and into the trees. In that instant, Black Hawk thundered his horse into Luke’s, leaping from his own horse and knocking Luke from his mount. Both men landed on their hindquarters, and Luke’s rifle went skidding across the ground several feet away from him.
“Father!” Little Fox cried.
Evelyn backed her horse, grabbing the reins to Little Fox’s horse and forcing him to also move farther back. “Stay where you are, Little Fox!” she warned, a sick dread inside at what could happen to Black Hawk, who wrestled on the ground with Luke.
Luke got Black Hawk onto his back and began pummeling him, but Black Hawk managed to kick up with his knee, catching the man in the crotch and then hoisting him with his leg so that he literally flipped over Black Hawk’s head and landed on his back. In an instant Black Hawk was on him, knife pulled. Evelyn noticed Marty watching the fight closely, his hand on the handle of his revolver. She took advantage of his diverted attention and leapt down from her horse, running over and grabbing up Luke’s rifle. She aimed it at Marty.
“Don’t touch that gun, or I swear I’ll shoot!” she ordered.
The man hesitated, obviously debating if she meant it, then moved his hand away. Evelyn glanced at Black Hawk, who was straddled over Luke, his left fist holding the man’s hair tightly. Luke’s head was jerked awkwardly sideways, and the man was groaning with the terrible pain it caused in his neck.
“Let me go!” he begged.
Black Hawk laid his knife on Marty’s cheek, slithering its tip along the surface of Luke’s skin, just enough to draw blood. He traced it over Luke’s jaw and on down his neck to the fur collar of the man’s coat. Luke cried out in terror, begging Black Hawk not to slit his throat.
“You are the scum of white men!” Black Hawk seethed. “You deserve to die. I only wish I could do it slowly, in the ways my people have of making a man suffer!”
“Black Hawk, don’t!” Evelyn screamed. “You’ll destroy everything if you kill him! Remember the vision! A white man cannot die at your own hands!” She noticed a slight movement then, realized instantly that Marty Able was going for his gun again while she was not watching. Her reaction a spontaneous act of panic. She fired the rifle, and even though she had not actually aimed it, Marty screamed out when a bullet ripped through his left shoulder. He nearly fell from his horse.
Evelyn could hardly believe what she had done, but for the moment there was no time to think about it. “I warned you!” she screamed. “If you try to hurt Black Hawk or his son, I’ll kill you!”
The gunshot startled both Black Hawk and Luke. Black Hawk turned in terror, thinking Evelyn was the one shot at by Marty. He kept a painful hold on Luke’s hair, and when he saw Evelyn standing there with a smoking rifle, he was filled with relief, and a great pride. The gunshot seemed to bring him back to his senses. After he stood up, jerking Luke up by the hair of the head, he moved behind the man and stuck the tip of the knife against his Adam’s apple.
“You and your friend will leave now, and you will not come back,” he snarled. “If I see you again, I will cut you from ear to ear! That is a promise, no matter what might happen to me!” He brought the knife to the side of Luke’s head, slitting off part of his earlobe.
Luke grabbed his ear and screamed like a wild man, blood running through his fingers and down the back of his hand into his coat sleeve. “You stinking Indian!” he hollered. “My ear! My ear!”
“Be glad it was not your throat!” Black Hawk told him. “Go! Both of you!”
Evelyn shivered at the bloody sight.
“I want my rifle!” Luke demanded.
“I am keeping it to show the authorities!” Evelyn answered the man. “Get going before Black Hawk changes his mind!”
By now Luke was crying. “Goddamn… sonofabitch!” he wept. “You ain’t heard the end of this, Black Hawk!”
Black Hawk just grinned as the man struggled to get back on his horse. “Who will you tell?” he asked. “The agency? They will know what you are doing here, and you will be arrested.”
“You bitch!” Marty growled at Evelyn, terrible pain showing in his icy-blue eyes. The whole left side of his jacket was bloodstained, and a stiff wind made him shake.
“Let’s go!” Luke told the man. “Let’s get back to the steamboat and get the hell out of here!” He was still holding his ear with his right hand, but he managed to keep the reins in his left. He turned his horse and rode back into the trees. Marty glared at Evelyn a moment longer, then joined his partner.
For several minutes Black Hawk and Evelyn kept watching the direction in which they had ridden. They could hear Luke’s continued screaming and Marty’s cussing.
“Get the horses onto the flatboat!” Luke was ordering. “Get our gear!”
“How can I, with my shoulder like this, damn you!” Marty answered.
Luke shouted something about bleeding to death, and Marty said “So am I!” Then there was nothing but curses that began to fade, signifying that they were on the flatboat and headed away from their campsite, probably east to the Mississippi.
Evelyn finally lowered the rifle with shaking hands. “My God I’ve shot a man!” she groaned.
Black Hawk walked a few feet away, struggling with his anger and the frustration of not being able to kill the men who had threatened him and the woman he loved. There was a time… He pushed back his coat and rammed his knife back into its sheath, then turned to Evelyn, his eyes still blazing.
“You did what you had to do.” He looked her over, thinking how big the rifle looked compared to her small stature. It would be amusing if not for the gravity of the moment. “You are a warrior Evelyn Hawk. I did not know you had such courage. My people will only respect and trust you more when I tell them what you have done this day. You saved my life.”
Little Fox ran up to the man, putting his arms around his waist. “I thought they would kill you, Father!”
Bl
ack Hawk rubbed lightly at the boy’s back, his eyes still on Evelyn, who had seen firsthand the true warrior that lived within this man she loved, the warrior he would still be, if not for the changes forced upon him. Part of her was almost afraid of him, but that was the part that had grown up in a different world. For the way he was raised he had actually shown great restraint. She knew most white women would have been appalled by what he had done to Luke Smith’s ear, would call it savage; but she knew that not killing the man had taken great courage, and his strength and bravery only made her love and want him more.
“You put your own life at great risk to save me from something worse than death,” she told him. “When his gun fired, I thought… all I could think of was Wild Horse… seeing him shot down.” Her eyes teared, and she came closer to embrace both Black Hawk and Little Fox.
“We must leave here, get you home,” Black Hawk told her. “Then I must get back to my own camp. If the agency finds out what I did today—”
“They will find out, because I will tell them!” Evelyn said, looking up at him. “Why should we wait and take the risk that they will hand them some story themselves to make you look bad? It’s best to tell the truth, Black Hawk, and I am going straight to the agency when I get back! If the Army was doing their job right, such awful men wouldn’t even get onto the reservation! And I intend to tell them they admitted they were with Seth Bridges when you destroyed their whiskey supply!”
He shook his head. “It will do no good. They have already searched that man’s home and found nothing. Telling them about all of this will only let them know that I am the one who attacked the whiskey traders a few months ago, something they have been wanting to prove.”
“Fine! You did the right thing, something the Army is supposed to be doing! They have no right punishing you for it. If we are going to be married, Black Hawk, I intend for James McLaughlin and Reverend Phillips and Colonel Gere and the rest to understand the kind of man you really are!”
Full Circle Page 37