Thanksgiving In Clover Springs

by Rachel Wesson

  “She has never seen a bath before. We bathe in the river,” He explained over his shoulder to Wilma as he gestured to the girl.

  “Please tell her, we won’t hurt her. We need to clean her up before we can treat her injuries.”

  “She is hurt. How?”

  “I don’t know. Something cut her leg. It’s rather deep and looks infected.” Wilma laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, we can heal her.”

  Little Beaver shook the hand off, his face a mask of thunder.

  He cares about her but doesn’t want us to know. Why?

  He spoke quite sharply to the girl, but Wilma didn’t understand what he was saying so maybe it was just their language that sounded rough to her ears. But she didn’t think so. The girl’s eyes flashed as he spoke to her.

  Good, she has a fighting spirit. She’ll need it.

  It took some time to get the girl to agree to the bath. At Wilma’s request, Little Beaver left to ask Mary to find her something to wear. She couldn’t wear the rags she had arrived in. Wilma intended on seeing them burnt. God only knows what they might carry.

  She washed the girl’s body as Mrs. Higgins washed her hair. Asha appeared to fall asleep in the water.

  “She’s so young. About twelve she looks. And her in the family way.”

  “I guess she’s a bit older Mrs. H. About fifteen or so. I am thinking it wasn’t her idea to have the baby.”

  Mrs. H agreed as the tears streamed down her face. “Look at the poor child’s body. Whoever did that to her should be horse whipped.”

  Wilma agreed, although given her past, whipping wasn’t something she condoned. But if the abuser had stood in front of her now, she might take a whip to him herself.

  Mary arrived with Davy in tow. He left as soon as he realized the girl was naked.

  “Little Beaver asked me to bring a nightdress. I didn’t realize she would be so small.” Mary’s voice quivered with unshed tears, her face a mask of concern as she gazed at the young girl.

  Wilma gave her the tray of food and asked her to heat it up. It had gone cold while they were bathing the girl. Giving Mary something practical to do would distract her. Miss Mary was so softhearted she was liable to drown all of them with her tears if she saw the extent of the girl’s hardship.

  Mary did as she was bid. Mrs. H and Wilma took advantage of her absence to towel dry and dress the young girl. She was clean but the bath seemed to have sapped what little strength she had left. Wilma dressed her wounds with healing herbs and bandages. The girl sent her a look of thanks, her eyelids closing slowly.

  Frank had brought some more blankets, so they made her a comfortable bed in the stall.

  “Good job the boys mucked out these stables earlier. I still think she would do better in a bed.”

  “Indians don’t sleep in beds. She would rather sleep on floor.”

  Little Beaver’s face was once more impassive. No sign of recognition or sorrow. Wilma wondered if she had imagined it.

  Mary returned with the food but the girl only managed a couple of spoons of chicken broth before she fell asleep.

  “Come on everyone. Leave her be. She needs her rest. We all need some coffee and some food.” Mrs. H. fussed around like a mother hen. Wilma declined to leave. She would stay with the young girl just in case she woke up.

  Little Beaver was the last to leave, his eyes never leaving the girls face.

  “You know her don’t you?” Wilma’s soft voice made him jerk as if he woke from a dream.

  “No. I thought I did. She reminds me of someone I once knew. I do not recognize this… person.”

  With that he left, banging the barn door behind him. Wilma sighed, staring after him. He may have thought he had her fooled but she had dealt with enough young men in her time. He had cared deeply for this girl once, maybe he still did.

  Chapter 10

  Little Beaver strode purposefully toward where the horses were grazing.

  “Little Beaver, wait,” Davy Sullivan called after him.

  “Can’t. Needed in town.”

  Little Beaver jumped on his horse and headed toward town. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. As soon as he was out of sight, he changed direction making for the mountains instead. He had to clear his head. Why was she here?

  He’d hated her when he first found out what she’d done. His mind flew back to the day he sat in front of her father in his lodge. His heart thumping, hoping the man had finally agreed to let him marry Asha. Instead, he had stumbled out of the lodge, his brain fighting the impulse to scream his pain so all would hear. He’d gone looking for her, determined to hear the truth from her own lips. He couldn’t find her, and nobody seemed to know where she was. Or if they did, they weren’t telling him. At the time, his rage knew no boundary. He had been fit to kill someone.

  Seeing her lying in the barn, so weak and vulnerable had brought everything flooding back. His chest ached as if his heart had been pulled out. How could she have betrayed him? Their love for each other? He had to leave the barn. Even in her weakened state, half of him wanted to pick her up and shake her. Make her tell him why she hated him so.

  He fought to control his rage. If only her father had let them marry. No Indian would let his bride be reduced to that state. It wasn’t as if Asha’s father had a lot of grooms to choose from. There weren’t many braves who didn’t share bloodlines with Asha. In the ways of their people, it wasn’t possible to marry anyone who was related to you. It didn’t matter how distant. It was forbidden. The majority of the men in the reservation were members of their tribe.

  Little Beaver’s father, Sleeping Bear, had joined the tribe as a young boy. His mother had been captured in a raid on another tribe. He and Asha were not related. It hadn’t been good enough for her father though. He didn’t approve as Little Beaver had, in his eyes, betrayed his people by not sharing their exile. Maybe he should have gone to live in the reservation. Was that what Asha needed? Proof of his love for her? Was that why she betrayed him? She thought he had deserted her?

  He jumped off his horse and fell to his knees. His heart was screaming at the Great Spirit. Why would you do this to me? Why bring her to my friends? I loved her. Why did you let this happen?

  Over and over he rallied but there was no answer. Little Beaver’s horse came over to him and nudged his shoulder. Turning his head into the horse, he cried for the first time in a very long time. The horse nudged him a couple of times almost as if he was telling him it was time to go back. To face the woman, he had always thought of his.

  Chapter 11

  The smell of blood tainted the air. Nandita wished to open a window but was afraid to in case Laura got a chill.

  The women worked tirelessly. When Nandita’s faith faltered she called upon the medicine man to help her. She wished he was here. He would know exactly what to do but then if he was still alive, their tribe would have left for warmer climates down south. The Great Spirit worked in mysterious ways and it was not her place to question him. She spoke to Laura as if her friend could hear her. She refused to take a break. Mrs. Grey tried to force her to eat but she ignored her. Mary brought baskets of food and milk for the baby. She took Victoria to the fire to feed and change her before bringing her back and laying her next to Laura.

  “I think she likes being next to her mama,” Mary said, her voice choking with emotion. “I will come back later with more milk. Can I bring some food for you Nandita? Mrs. Grey?”

  Both refused. Later they could eat, for now they had to save Laura.

  The time passed but Laura didn’t improve. Nothing seemed to be working.

  “The afterbirth hasn’t come out.”

  Nandita brushed her hand across her forehead. “I need to cut her. We will have to take it out.”

  “Cut her? Have you done that before?”

  Nandita nodded. “Once. The girl lived but she was strong. Laura is very weak.”

  “We should ask Paul,” Mrs. Grey said. Without waiting for a response
, she went to find Paul.

  Nandita stood as Mrs. Grey explained to Paul what they needed to do. His face turned even paler.

  “You know what you are doing?” He asked Nandita.

  “Yes. But she is weak. She will die if we do not do this. But…”

  “She could die anyway.” Paul took his wife’s hand and kissed it. “Do it. We have to give her a chance.”

  Paul left the room. Nandita worked quickly as Mrs. Grey kept a close eye on Laura’s breathing. She was still unconscious. Finally, Nandita stood back.

  “It is done. It is all up to the Great Spirit now.”

  Nandita started chanting. She sensed rather than saw Mrs. Grey leave the room. She didn’t break her chant.

  As the hours passed, Paul insisted on waiting in his house. He wanted to be near to his wife and daughter. Little Beaver brought her more herbs as she kept the small fire she had started in the bedroom going. He was the only other person allowed into the room, apart from Mrs. Grey, despite loud protests from Paul. At different times, Nandita heard Mary and Mrs. Higgins reassuring Paul she knew what she was doing. She only hoped their faith in her was rewarded.

  Chapter 12

  “Do you know the girl, Nandita?” Wilma asked softly as Asha slept. Nandita had come in to check on the Indian girl. Mrs. Grey was with Laura who was fast asleep. She couldn’t do anything more for her friend. It was out of her hands now.

  “Only by sight. I don’t think I ever spoke to her before. She didn’t live in our campsite.” Nandita glanced at Little Beaver who had returned some time ago. He knew the girl, she was sure of it yet he hadn’t said anything. He wouldn’t look at her either. He was hiding something but she couldn’t ask until the others had left.

  “Can you speak her language? We need to find out where her family is? Why was she running away?” Wilma whispered.

  “It’s obvious. She brought shame to her people. Look at her. Send her back.” He stormed out the door. Nandita ached to go after him but he would not appreciate her interference.

  The girl needed her. It was obvious she didn’t speak English. The others thought she was asleep, but Nandita knew by her facial expression she was awake. She kept glancing at Little Beaver before he had left. It was obvious they knew each other.

  Davy and Mary stared after Little Beaver, shock written all over their faces. They had never heard him speak so harshly before. Only Wilma’s face reflected some understanding. Wilma thinks they knew each other too.

  “If someone told me Little Beaver said something so horrible, I would assume they were lying. Why is he acting this way? Is she not married? Is that so wrong they would throw her out defenseless into the wild?” Mary knelt by the girl. She pushed her hair back from her face. “The poor child doesn’t look much older than fourteen. She’s skin and bone.” Tears gathered in Mary’s eyes as quickly as she brushed them away.

  “Come on, Mary, leave the girl with Nandita. She may speak to her if we leave her alone.” Wilma tried to lead Mary out of the barn but the younger woman resisted.

  “Nandita, you are tired and hungry. Mrs. Grey told us how hard you worked to save Laura. She owes you her life,” Mary said.

  “She is not better yet. The next few days will tell the story,” Nandita said wearily. She didn’t want to hurt Mary or Wilma but the reality was Laura was still dangerously ill.

  “Will you not come into the house and bring the girl with you? I can’t leave you out here,” Mary persisted.

  Frank stepped out of the shadows. He had been seeing to the horses. “Mary, I think the girl would prefer to stay here. I will help you carry some food and extra blankets.”

  Nandita flashed a quick smile of thanks to her understanding husband. She was desperate to talk to the girl but couldn’t do that with everyone here. She watched as Frank gently but firmly led Mary back to the house. Wilma followed but Nandita guessed she would go check on Laura.

  Davy watched for a couple of seconds before he went too. “I will go find Little Beaver. Nandita, please stay with the girl. Not for our safety but for hers. She is in a strange place and I don’t want her waking up alone.”

  Nandita didn’t meet Davy’s eye. It wasn’t in her nature to lie or mislead people, especially those she considered her friends. She waited a few minutes until she could no longer hear their footsteps before turning her attention back to the girl.

  “They are gone, you can open your eyes now,” She said in their own language. “Tell me why you ran away.”

  The girl opened her eyes to stare at her. She didn’t say a word. Then she looked away.

  Nandita forced her head back so that she had to look at her. “You must tell me. You said my name just before you passed out. You were looking for me. You need my help.”

  The girl stayed silent for a couple of seconds before squeezing her eyes shut and nodding her head.

  “I heard you are good with medicine. You can make baby go away. Do it now.”

  Nandita’s mouth opened in shock but she couldn’t say anything. She took the girls hands and moved them to her swelling stomach. “This is your child. You cannot mean what you ask.”

  The girl jerked her hands back, her face twisted in anger. “I know what I want. I do not want this. I want to go home. To my family. I can’t do that with this.”

  Nandita tried to take the girls hand but she jerked further away. “Can you help me or not. I will kill myself if you don’t do what I say. I am not having this baby.”

  “You are young and frightened. I understand that. I was the same when I had my first baby. Where is your husband? Do your parents not approve?”

  The expression on the girls face frightened Nandita. She watched as the young girl clammed up once more, turning her face to the wall.

  “If I am to help you, I need to know what happened to you.” Nandita lowered her voice. “You can trust me. I will not tell anyone.”

  “She lay with the soldiers.” Little Beaver’s voice startled both of them. Nandita hadn’t heard him come back into the barn and from the girl’s reaction, neither had she. Nandita couldn’t believe what the boy she thought of as a little brother was saying. Chastity was highly valued among the Cheyenne. A young woman would never let herself be seduced. If it was to happen, it would never be forgotten. No young man would marry her, she would be disgraced forever.

  Little Beaver must be wrong. Yet his face was twisted in anger. “She has betrayed our people. That’s why they threw her out. Nobody will share her blanket. She is a disgrace.” Little Beaver spat on the floor.

  The girl whimpered as she struggled to put distance between her and Little Beaver.

  “She should leave. Our white friends have enough problems without having her as well. She brought this to her own door. Let her go. Maheo will teach her a lesson.

  “Who are you to judge her? Only the Wise One above has that right. You don’t live on the reservation. There could be many reasons why she did what she did, if you are speaking the truth. She is obviously starving. Maybe she needed extra food,” Nandita hissed fiercely.

  The girl moved so her back was against the barn wall. Her eyes spitting daggers. “I didn’t do anything for food. I was happy to die. The Great Spirit led us to the reservation. He must have had a plan for us.”

  “So he expected you to act as a white man’s…”

  “Little Beaver, you watch your tongue. This girl is a guest. Our chief would be horrified at your lack of manners,” Nandita spoke sharply.

  “Your chief.” The girl almost spat her words. “You didn’t come to live on the reservation. You choose the white man’s world. Yet you stand there and judge me. At least I am not a coward.” The words, although in response to her comment, were directed at Little Beaver. Nandita stayed silent. There was more to this story than she understood. Little Beaver and this girl shared a history. Was he the father? As soon as she thought it, she dismissed it. Little Beaver would not walk away from family. He wouldn’t use a young girl so casually. Yet he knew
her. He seemed to have feelings for her. There was a thin line between love and hate. The hate between these two, did it mask a love so fierce it was destroying both of them?

  “Explain yourself then. How is your belly growing big and you have no man?” Little Beaver stood, arms crossed over his chest, his face a thunderous mask.

  “I do not have to explain myself to you. You are not my husband.” Although weak, the girl wasn’t letting Little Beaver get away with anything. Nandita had to hide a smile. Her stepson wasn’t used to people speaking back to him when he was so obviously annoyed.

  Little Beaver turned his back to the girl. “But I wanted to be.”

  Nandita wasn’t sure the girl had heard Little Beaver’s whisper. She didn’t even know if her stepson realized he had spoken aloud. The pain on his face made her take a swift intake of breath.

  “Can someone tell me her name? I cannot keep calling you girl.”

  “Her name is Asha. She is the daughter of Chief White Moon.”

  The man who had once been her uncle’s rival.

  “So, Asha, why did you come to me? There are many women who know the secrets you wish me to share with you.”

  “The other women do not speak to me. They walk away as I approach. There was nobody else.”

  “Little Beaver, leave us. I want to talk to Asha alone.”

  “No.” Little Beaver turned back to face the girl, his stance like that of a fighting warrior rather than the gentle giant known and loved by many. “I will know her story. I want to hear from her own lips how she could betray her people. My people.”

  “Your people,” the girl screamed. “Look at you. You are well fed, your bones are not sticking out like those on a scrawny prairie chicken. You are not coughing or sick with fevers. You do not know what it is to go to bed hungry every night. To live in a prison.”