Maggie and Winona stayed inside the lodge, huddled around a fire. Occasionally Bobby and Hawk went outside to check on the horses and search for game. And like every other able-bodied man in the village, they took their turns at keeping watch, ever mindful that the wily Crow liked nothing better than to creep up on a winter village and steal horses and scalps.
Sometimes Star-on-the-Wind came to the lodge, ostensibly to visit Maggie and Winona, but Maggie noticed that Star-on-the-Wind never seemed to come calling when Bobby was away from the lodge.
Star was a beautiful young woman. She was tall and slender with smooth, clear skin and dancing black eyes. The three women spent many afternoons together and Maggie soon learned how to make moccasins, how to quill, how to make leggings and shirts.
Maggie had never been one for sewing, but now she found it was an excellent way to pass a wintry day, and relaxing as well. She took a great deal of pride in the first shirt she made for Hawk, pleased with the fit, the design of dyed porcupine quills that adorned the yoke, the way the fringes on the sleeves swayed when he moved.
As winter progressed they began to make baby clothes. Winona made a small robe of white rabbit fur, Star-on-the-Wind made several clouts, while Maggie sewed a half-dozen sacques similar to ones she’d seen in the stores. It wasn’t anything as fine as infant wear by Carter’s, but all in all, she was pleased with her handiwork.
Since Maggie was not versed in all the Lakota ways, and since she didn’t have a mother to guide her, Star’s mother, Blue Fawn, made two “sand lizards” explaining that one of the two little pouches would hold the child’s umbilical cord. She went on to say that the amulet was fashioned after a lizard because lizards were hard to kill, thus it was fitting that the lizard’s protective powers should be used to guard the child’s substance. One pouch would be used for the cord, the other was a decoy to guard the child against malevolent forces.
Maggie had trouble believing that carrying her son’s umbilical cord in a pouch shaped like a lizard would protect him from anything, but she accepted Blue Fawn’s offerings politely and stored them with the baby’s other things, eagerly waiting for the day when her son would be born, when she could hold Hawk’s child in her arms and see the visible proof of the love that had spanned time and space.
She was touched by the love and generosity of Winona and Star and Blue Fawn, but it was the cradle that Hawk made for their son that brought tears to Maggie’s eyes. Usually, the father’s sister made the cradle, but Hawk had no sister and so he made their child’s first bed himself.
Looking at it, Maggie saw his love for their unborn child in the delicate carvings in the headboard, in the shape and texture of the wood, in the strip of softly tanned hide that lined it.
Sometimes, late at night, he lay with his head on her breast, his hand resting lightly on the gentle swell of her belly, and told her of his childhood, of growing up with Red Arrow, of his first clumsy attempt with a bow, of his first pony and how he’d cried with shame the first time he tumbled off the animal’s back.
Listening, Maggie could imagine her own son following in his father’s footsteps. She’d never been able to imagine Hawk changing diapers or driving their son to soccer games, but she could picture him hunkered down beside their son teaching him how to track a rabbit to its hole, how to distinguish between the tracks of a dog and coyote, how to follow the buffalo.
Closing her eyes, she imagined herself surrounded by black-haired children, boys who would grow to be tall and handsome as their father, girls who were beautiful and modest.
Winter was mild that year. They had enough to eat, and if Maggie grew weary of jerky and pemmican, at least they didn’t go hungry.
Gradually, the days grew warmer. Slender green shoots poked their way through the snow. Soon the trees were clothed in bright new emerald gowns, the sky turned from leaden gray to azure, and a bright profusion of flowers blossomed seemingly overnight.
Newborn foals frolicked in the greening meadow, birds sang in the trees, and Maggie felt the first faint flutter of new life.
It was spring. The Lakota shook off the lethargy of winter in much the same way the horses shed their winter coats. Lodges were swept, robes were aired. The men went hunting. The children threw off their heavy shirts and ran barefoot in the sun.
And on a bright clear afternoon, Bobby Proud Eagle asked Shadow Hawk to speak to Star-on-the-Wind’s parents.
Shadow Hawk grinned at the eager look on Bobby’s face. “So, the time has come,” he said, slapping his friend on the back.
“I can’t wait any longer,” Bobby said. “Please, Hawk, go today.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Of course.”
“And she said yes?
Bobby nodded impatiently. “Go! The horses are outside.”
Shadow Hawk lifted an inquiring brow. “Horses?”
“Where do you think I’ve been the last four days? I’ve been out stealing horses from the Crow.”
Seeing Maggie’s astonished look, Shadow Hawk laughed out loud. “Truly, Proud Eagle, you are one of us. I shall be proud to carry your wishes to the brother of Star-on-the-Wind.”
Winona offered Bobby something to eat, but he was too nervous. He knew Star would marry him, but what if her brother refused the match? What if he didn’t think the horses were good enough?
Maggie and Winona exchanged amused glances as Bobby paced the lodge. Everyone in the village had been expecting this day. Everyone, except Bobby, knew that Star’s parents and brother had agreed to the marriage.
Bobby whirled around as Hawk entered the lodge. “Well? What did Owl Feather say?”
Slowly, Shadow Hawk shook his head, hiding a teasing grin by looking down at the ground. “I am sorry, Proud Eagle. The elder brother of Star-on-the-Wind said no.”
Bobby stared at Hawk. “He said no?” Bobby’s face contorted with anger. “He said no! Then we’ll run away!”
Shadow Hawk lifted a restraining hand. “Wait! He did not say no. It is all arranged. The marriage will take place in a month’s time.”
“A month,” Bobby said, groaning.
“It is to give Star-on-the-Wind and her mother time to gather hides for a lodge. The time will go fast, sunkaku. There is much for you to do as well.”
The time did go fast. A month later, on a bright sunny morning in late April, Bobby Proud Eagle took Star-on-the-Wind as his wife. It was, of course, an occasion for a feast, for the exchange of gifts, for dancing.
Star-on-the-Wind pitched her new lodge near Winona’s and the couple set up housekeeping. Maggie was disappointed to learn that the newlyweds would not have a honeymoon, but Hawk explained that such a thing was not wise due to the constant warfare between the Lakota and the Crow and the Pawnee. However, for the next few days, Bobby and Star-on-the-Wind were seldom seen outside their lodge and Maggie decided they were having what might be called an in-house honeymoon.
In early May, the Nacas decided it was time to move the Hunkpapa village back to the Black Hills, and Shadow Hawk began making preparations to take Hawk’s people to Canada. Surprisingly, several of Sitting Bull’s people expressed an interest in going to the Land of the Grandmother. The thought pleased Shadow Hawk. Instead of traveling with mostly women and children, there would be over twenty seasoned warriors riding with him.
It was hard to say goodbye. Star-on-the-Wind wept as she bid farewell to her parents, and Maggie choked back tears of her own as she hugged Buffalo Heart and Blue Fawn, certain she’d never see either of them again. Bobby put his arm around Star, holding her close as they watched Sitting Bull’s people ride southward.
“I’ll miss them,” Maggie murmured.
Shadow Hawk nodded, but there was no time for melancholy feelings. It was time they were on their way.
“Come,” he said, “we have much to do before we leave tomorrow morning.”
They left early on a bright clear day. Maggie was eager to begin. Years ago she’d gone to Canada on vacation with her parents and she
remembered it as a beautiful place, lush and green.
But once the journey began in earnest, much of her excitement dissipated. Riding a horse six or seven hours a day was a lot different from a pleasure ride, especially when you were five months pregnant. The constant jarring made her back ache. Her increasing girth made her feel clumsy and awkward. She had to stop frequently to empty her bladder. Sometimes she walked, but she tired easily and then, when all she wanted to do was sleep, she had to climb back on a horse and ride until it was time to make camp for the night.
She grew increasingly grateful for Hawk’s mother. Winona was always there to share the work. Maggie had always thought it would be awful to have to live with her mother-in-law, but Winona treated her with love and respect and Maggie found she enjoyed having the older woman around. It was nice to be able to share the complaints of pregnancy with someone who understood, someone who could tell her that what she was feeling was perfectly normal, someone she could ask for advice.
Hawk was unfailingly kind and attentive. He did his best to make Maggie comfortable. In the evenings, he rubbed her back and shoulders, massaged her feet, her neck. He held her in his arms when she cried for no reason at all. Some nights, he brushed her hair. Other nights, he carried her away from the camp to some private place where he undressed her and bathed her as if she were a child, drying her with a soft cloth, and then rubbing her skin with sage.
The days passed slowly for Maggie. At intervals, they made camp for several days at a time while the men went hunting. It was wonderful to have fresh meat again, to stuff herself on nuts and berries and wild plums.
She was an old hand at putting up their lodge now and she took great satisfaction in doing it as quickly and efficiently as the Lakota women. Indeed, except for her curly hair, she looked pretty much like an Indian herself. Her skin was deeply tanned; she wore moccasins and a doeskin dress beaded and fringed in the manner of the Sioux.
She felt a sharp pang in her heart the day the Black Hills came into view for the first time. This was home, she thought. It would always be home, even if she never saw it again. It would be good to see the majesty of the Hills again, she mused, if only for a week, good to inhale the fragrant scent of the pines, to walk in the tall prairie grass, to swim in the lakes, to see the deer grazing in the quiet meadows at dusk.
That night, she lay in Hawk’s arms wondering what he was thinking. He had been born here. The land was in his blood, a part of him. If it was hard for her to say goodbye, how much harder must it be for him?
He had decided they would spend a week here, replenishing their supplies, hunting for buffalo, before they moved on. Maggie knew in her heart that it wasn’t really a need for meat or supplies that had prompted his decision, but a desire to spend a little more time in the place that would always be his home.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Blood. A smear of bright red blood staining her thighs. Maggie looked at it in horror wondering if she was losing the baby. But there were no pains, no contractions, just that little bit of blood.
She didn’t say anything to anyone that day, or the next, but the bleeding didn’t stop, and her fear grew stronger. Something was wrong. She tried to remember everything she’d ever heard about miscarriages and childbirth, but all she could remember was that blood was never a good sign.
She kept hoping it would pass. After all, there wasn’t a lot of blood, but when the cramping began she knew something was terribly wrong. That night, she told Hawk, and Hawk told his mother.
Winona sent Hawk outside while she examined Maggie. Her face was grave when she finished. Rising, she went outside to prepare Hawk.
“What is it, Iná?” Shadow Hawk asked anxiously.
“I have seen this before in other women,” Winona explained sadly. “Always the baby is lost.” She laid her hand on Hawk’s arm. “And sometimes the mother.”
“Is there nothing to be done?”
“I know of no way to stop the bleeding. She is having pains also. I think you must expect the worst.”
“No!”
Winona patted her son’s arm sympathetically and then, sensing his need to be alone, she returned to the lodge to comfort Maggie as best she could.
Shadow Hawk walked away from the camp, the pain in his heart worse than anything he had ever known as he contemplated the loss of his son. He could bear that, he thought bleakly, if he had to, but he could not bear to think of living without Maggie.
Standing in the darkness of the night, he felt himself being torn in half. It was a familiar feeling, and he remembered another time when he’d had to make a painful decision, a decision between his heart and his soul.
And now he must make such a decision again, a decision between the lives of his child and his wife and the welfare of his people.
Raising his arms overhead, Shadow Hawk lifted his face to the sky and began to pray, asking Wakán Tanka for guidance.
For a time, he heard nothing but the sound of the wind soughing through the trees, and then, in an instant, he knew all the answers.
The Eagle must follow the Hawk.
Shadow Hawk knew then, as certainly as if he’d heard the words aloud, that it was Bobby’s destiny to lead his people to Canada. Maggie had been the catalyst that had drawn the two of them together. She had been the link between the two worlds. Her love for the Lakota and the land had bridged the gap between the past and the future.
Bobby Proud Eagle did indeed belong in this time. He was the medicine man his people needed. It was his fate to take the people to Canada. He would make his home there with Star-on-the-Wind, while Shadow Hawk remained behind in the Black Hills.
He stared at the moon, bright and full, and knew it was time to take Maggie home. He could not risk her life, and their son’s life, by staying here. Life on the plains was perilous at best. Even if they didn’t make the long ride to Canada and stayed with Sitting Bull’s people instead, there was always the chance of attack by soldiers or an enemy tribe, the possibility that they would have to fight, or take flight in the dead of night. It had happened before, it could happen again. And he knew that such exertion would be fatal for the child, and perhaps for Maggie, as well.
She’d been crying. He knew it the minute he entered the lodge. With a smile of encouragement, Winona went outside, knowing they needed time alone.
“Did she tell you?” Maggie asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, so sorry. I wanted so much to give you a son.”
“We have not lost this one yet.”
“But we will,” Maggie whispered, and a fresh flood of tears coursed down her cheeks. “Oh, Hawk…”
He slid under the buffalo robe and drew her close, one hand gently stroking her hair while she cried.
When her tears subsided, he wiped her face. “I am taking you home tomorrow, Mag-gie,” he said quietly.
“Home?” This was home. Didn’t he want her anymore?
“Back to your time.”
Maggie stared at him, a sudden ray of hope making its way through her tears. Of course, Hawk was taking her home because of the child, because their son’s only chance for life was there, in the future, where modern medicine could stop her miscarriage.
She smiled at him then, certain that everything would be all right. They would go to her time until the baby was born, and then come back here. With childlike faith, she clung to his hand and fell asleep.
Shadow Hawk held her all through the night. He had never loved anyone as he loved Maggie. She was a part of him, would always be a part of him. They belonged together, perhaps forever, perhaps only for a short time.
Tomorrow he would take Maggie to the Sacred Cave. It was the only way to save the child.
Shadow Hawk stood outside his lodge, watching his people ride away. All their goodbyes had been said. Maggie had wept as she embraced Winona and Bobby and Star.
Strangely, Shadow Hawk felt no sadness at his mother’s going. She had adopted Star-on-the-Wind and Bobby as her ow
n, and he knew she would be well cared for into her old age. And somehow, deep in his heart, he knew she would be well and happy with her new life.
When they were out of sight, he bridled his horse, then went into the lodge to get Maggie. Very carefully, he lifted her onto his horse, then swung up behind her. It was a bad time of year to be traveling the plains alone. The wasichu would be swarming into the Hills in search of gold; the young men of the Crow and Pawnee would be eager for scalps, but perhaps, like the Lakota, they would be too busy hunting fresh meat to stray into the Land of the Spotted Eagle.
He should have asked Red Arrow and Crooked Lance and a few of the other warriors to ride with him, but it was too late now. He would travel slowly, carefully. Fortunately, the Sacred Cave was not far. With any luck, he could get Maggie there before it was too late. He did not think beyond that, but he could not shake the feeling that his life was about to change in some way that would be irreversible.
The thought of death crossed his mind and he wondered bleakly if perhaps he was going to die, if he would not survive another journey down the Spirit Path. He did not fear death, it was a part of the circle that formed the Great Mystery of Life, but he knew he would miss Maggie, even in the Land of Shadows.
Maggie rested against Hawk, her eyes closed, her thoughts confused. She had been so certain that Hawk had traveled through time to find her, that they had been fated from the beginning of time to be together. But now Hawk seemed to think he had been sent to the future to find Bobby, that it was Bobby’s destiny to lead Hawk’s people to safety in Canada.
“It was my destiny to find him,” Hawk had said, his voice firm with conviction. “And it is his destiny to lead my people to Canada. It is what he was born for.”
“And what about us?” Maggie had asked.
“I think we were meant to be together, Mag-gie,” he had replied, his voice tender with affection. “Perhaps forever, perhaps only for a short time. I only know that I love you more than my life, that I loved you even before I knew you.”
No matter what other reason Hawk might have had for coming to her time, she would always believe it was because they were meant to be together.
The Spirit Path Page 27