Wild Abandon

by Cassie Edwards

  “A delegation from the Cherokee Nation has arrived,” he said solemnly. “I must meet with them in council. They have brought an urgent invitation to our Wolf Clan of Cherokee to remove and incorporate upon equal terms with the Cherokee Nation in the Indian Territory. I must meet with them to give them my adamant response.”

  He clasped his hands to her shoulders when he saw the despair and an almost desperation in her eyes. “It will not take me long to tell them that my full-blood Cherokee will remain to live apart from those who have chosen a different sort of life,” he said thickly. “It will not take long for me to tell them that my people are safer from aggressions among our rocks and mountains than they would ever be in a land shared with the white man. I must make them understand that my people can be happy only in the country where nature has planted them.”

  Seeing the importance of what he said, and had to do, and having to put her selfishness aside again after only having thought that she was to be reunited with Dancing Cloud again, Lauralee placed a gentle hand to his cheek.

  “Go,” she murmured. “You are chief. You have your duties to your people.”

  “You are also my people now,” he said thickly. “I do this for you, as well. We want a future that is free of white man interferences. The only way we can achieve that is by staying on my mountain.”

  He paused, then felt compelled to give her further explanations. “It is important that you know that although I disagree with my mixed blood Cherokee brothers and sisters, a common ancestry promotes an understanding between the Cherokee full bloods and mixed bloods,” he said. “We are poles apart in many respects, but under the skin we are still brothers. We have Cherokee traditions in common and no amount of white blood can dilute the remembrance of what happened in centuries past to the Cherokee people.”

  “I truly understand,” Lauralee said, fighting back tears that threatened to make her look selfish and childish again. “Please do go on.”

  Susan Sweet Bird came to them. She moved to Lauralee’s side. “I will walk with Lauralee and Brian Brave Walker,” she said softly. “I will fill their time while you must be away again.”

  Dancing Cloud swept Susan Sweet Bird into his arms and gave her a hug, then stepped away and gave Lauralee one last lingering look. He then left the cabin, his shoulders squared proudly.

  “Come, let us walk away your sadness,” Susan Sweet Bird said as she took Lauralee’s hand. She turned her sightless eyes Brian Brave Walker’s way. “Come, child. Walk with us. Acquaint yourself more with my people and the ways in which we live. Perhaps in turn you will want to tell us about your own people and home.”

  Lauralee watched Brian Brave Walker move slowly to his feet, his eyes half cast downward. As he inched his way toward her and Susan Sweet Bird, Lauralee’s heart slowed its beats. She so feared that he would again walk on the far side of her, beside Susan Sweet Bird, instead.

  And when he did just that, lacing his fingers through Susan Sweet Bird’s, Lauralee looked quickly away and swallowed back her pride and hurt. Somehow, some day she would find a way to make him accept her. For certain it was the color of her skin that made the difference! She had to find a way to make him look past that and see the love that she offered him.

  The evening shadows were lengthening and the September air was much cooler as they began their leisurely walk through the village. Everyone smiled and spoke to Susan Sweet Bird. Some stopped them and made over Brian Brave Walker.

  Yet there were still obvious reservations on how the people felt about Lauralee.

  But she tried to understand by thinking that she had not been seen enough with Dancing Cloud to prove that she was his woman and worthy of their acquaintance.

  Hopefully after this council today everything wou1d change.

  He would finally be with her.

  As they wandered, Lauralee saw women pounding corn as they made flour outside their cabins. Young girls came from the forest carrying baskets they had woven, filled with hickory nuts, walnuts, and pecans. Some women came from the direction of the river carrying pottery jars filled with fresh water.

  She looked past the cabins and saw the plots of gardens more closely than when she had ridden into the village on the day of her arrival. Now she could see pumpkins that lay in orange globes across the land. The cornstalks had browned, the harvest near.

  “Do the women or men gather the harvest?” she blurted, trying to start a small conversation between herself and Susan Sweet Bird.

  “The men harvest, the women make food from that which is harvested,” Susan Sweet Bird said, her voice always sounding musical in its softness. “Next to corn, the bean is the most important food plant of the Cherokee. Beans that crack open in cooking are sometimes rubbed by mothers on the lips of their children in order to make them look smiling and good-tempered. They are called laughing beans.”

  “Laughing beans,” Brian Brave Walker said, more to himself, than aloud, as he thought of his very own mother telling stories of the “laughing beans.” His insides ached with a keen loneliness for his mother.

  But he feared his father more than anything else on this earth, so much that he had to place his mother from his mind whenever she crept into his heart.

  He . . . had . . . to . . . forget.

  Lauralee looked past Susan Sweet Bird. “Brian Brave Walker, did you say something?” she asked softly, flinching when his only response was to glare back at her.

  “Lauralee, the child will take to you soon, and then he will talk endlessly to you,” Susan Sweet Bird said, in an effort to apologize for Brian’s behavior. “Give him time. Who could not love you? My chief, my nephew, has chosen wisely for a wife.”

  “Thank you,” Lauralee murmured. “I’m so glad to have your friendship. Without it, I don’t know what I would do.”

  “My people as a whole will soon accept you, as I have,” Susan Sweet Bird said, turning to reach a searching hand for Lauralee’s face. When she found it she lay her palm against her cheek. “These things take time. Just have faith in Dancing Cloud. Then it will happen as though by magic one day that my people will look to you as one of us, instead of white.”

  They walked onward.

  “Is that tobacco I see in the fields?” Lauralee asked, seeing the large-leafed plants swaying in the evening breeze.

  “Yes, tobacco is sacred to the Cherokee. In our language, the word for tobacco, tsala, means ‘fire to hold in the mouth,’” Susan Sweet Bird said, nodding. “It is being used even now in council. My people believe that a man’s word is bound by the sharing of tobacco, whether it be a peace treaty or a declaration of war. We also sprinkle tobacco on the fire to drive away witches or evil spirits.”

  They had reached the center of the village. Lauralee stared at a larger log lodge that had been built on elevated land so that it looked down upon those who passed by it. The outside of the house had the appearance of a small mountain, its roof covered with earth.

  “Is that the council house?” Lauralee asked softly. She tried to gaze into the door when she noticed that an inward fire illuminated the room.

  “Yes, that is our Wolf Clan Town House where religious meetings, social gatherings, and councils are held,” Susan Sweet Bird said, nodding. “A sacred fire constantly burns in the center of this edifice. The fire is kindled atop a cone-shaped mound of earth.”

  “A sacred fire?” Lauralee said, again gazing at the door, seeing nothing more than the glow from the fire. She could hear men talking. She could make out their shadows. She knew that Dancing Cloud was one of them from his virile, muscled body.

  “It is said that the creator of life gave fire to the Cherokee,” Susan Sweet Bird said as they passed on by the Wolf Clan Town House. “But this was no ordinary fire. Its flames were said to burn eternally. Because of the ancient legend, the Cherokee are often called the people of fire. And in our council houses we keep a fire burning day and night. As long as the fire is lit, our people will survive. In that special fire, seven differ
ent kinds of wood are used, one for each of the seven Cherokee clans.”

  “During the Civil War, did the fire burn even then?” Lauralee asked, looking at the Wolf Clan Town House over her right shoulder, wishing she were there, joining council with Dancing Cloud. She could not help but feel left out.

  Again she brushed her selfish thoughts aside. She had to adjust to this, as well as many more things. She knew that she had surely only just begun to see the difference in hers and Dancing Cloud’s worlds . . . in their cultures!

  His was filled with mystique.

  Hers?

  She did not want to think back to what hers had been for her before she had met Dancing Cloud.

  “During the white man’s war of greed and power the sacred flames at times smoldered, appearing to be extinguished, but again burst forth with still a brighter blaze.” Susan Sweet Bird sighed heavily. “The ceremonial fire of full-blood Cherokee now burns brightly. Those who have come into our village today in an attempt to disrupt our lives will see that the word of our chief is final in that the Wolf Clan Cherokee will not leave their mountain, ever.”

  The sound of low, angry words behind them drew Lauralee around. Her lips parted in a slight gasp when those who had come for council today were leaving in a huff. It was obvious they were disgruntled with Dancing Cloud for having rejected their offer. They surely knew him well enough to know that he walked in the same footsteps of his father and his grandfather before him and that his word was final in all things among the Wolf Clan Cherokee.

  Lauralee watched the men who were dressed in neat suits that white businessmen wore as they mounted their horses quickly and rode away in a gallop from the village. She turned slow eyes to Dancing Cloud and found him walking toward her, a grim expression on his face, his dark eyes heavy with an agitated determination.

  When he reached her he silently framed her face between his hands. Their eyes momentarily held. He then stepped to her side and smiled down at Brian Brave Walker, then turned to Susan Sweet Bird.

  “Thank you for helping today, Susan Sweet Bird,” he said softly. “Would you care to join us for the evening meal?”

  Susan Sweet Bird slowly shook her head back and forth. “It is time for your family gathering,” she said, reaching a hand out toward Dancing Cloud before she found his arm to pat it. “You have been missed, my nephew chief.”

  “I want to go with you,” Brian Brave Walker blurted out to Susan Sweet Bird, grabbing her free hand. He clung to it almost desperately. “Please take me with you.”

  He gazed spitefully up at Lauralee, then turned softer eyes to Dancing Cloud. “Susan Sweet Bird tells good stories,” he murmured. “And she would be lonely without me. May I go and spend the night with Susan Sweet Bird? May I?”

  Those words came like a stab wound in Lauralee’s heart. She had so badly wanted to be accepted by this young boy. And not only because it was obvious that Dancing Cloud adored the child. She also adored him. She wanted to be the one who reached inside the child and discovered what had caused him to be wandering on the mountainside alone. She wanted to heal those inward wounds, as she had his physical self.

  If she discovered that he had no parents, then she wanted to take on the duties of mothering him. She knew so deeply how it felt to be orphaned.

  She would bring every orphan in the world under her protective wing if it were possible.

  At least here was one child who she could help, if he would only allow it.

  Torn with what to say, or do, knowing how desperately Lauralee wanted this child’s acceptance, Dancing Cloud inhaled a shaky breath. The only way the boy would learn to accept Lauralee into his life was to be around her, to learn by watching her and being with her, that she was everything good on this earth. The color of her skin blinded the child of the truth now. But soon it would be as though he had never noticed that she was white and that he was copper.

  “Tonight, you may go with Susan Sweet Bird,” Dancing Cloud said, rearranging his thoughts for the betterment of Lauralee and himself for the moment. They had not been alone since they had arrived at his village. Tonight he would reacquaint her with why she had chosen his world over her own. Tonight he would give her a loving she would never forget.

  “Only tonight,” Dancing Cloud hurriedly added. “Then we will spend time together under my roof the rest of our nights so that we can all learn to love and trust one another.”

  Brian Brave Walker clung to Susan Sweet Bird, his dark eyes sullen. “How can you love and trust her?” he said, nodding toward Lauralee. “She is white. All whites are evil.”

  Lauralee gasped as she turned her eyes from Brian Brave Walker. She wanted to cry out at him that, yes, some white people were evil. She knew one man in particular who Brian Brave Walker would definitely hate should they ever come face to face!

  But how could she convince the child that just because one white person may have placed this hate for all white people into his heart, it did not mean that all were of the same character.

  She said nothing. She knew that whatever she chose to say would fall on the boy’s ears as though he were deaf. She had a long way to go to convince him that he had no cause to hate her.

  She slipped an arm through Dancing Cloud’s. She leaned up closer to his ear. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “Please say nothing more to him. Let him go and spend the night with Susan Sweet Bird. Perhaps tomorrow we can talk with him some more. But for tonight, let’s not say any more to him.”

  “Tomorrow I must leave again,” Dancing Cloud said matter-of-factly.

  Lauralee paled. “What?” she said, her voice weak. “Again, so soon, you will leave me?”

  “If you wish to go with me, you are welcome,” he said, seeing how distraught she was over possibly being left behind.

  “Where? Where are you going?”

  “To the trading post on the Soho River.”

  They heard Brian Brave Walker emit a low, sudden gasp. As they looked at him they saw the fear in his eyes.

  “I not go with you,” Brian Brave Walker said in a rush of words. “I will stay here.”

  Neither one questioned him why. His fear was too real to ask.

  “You can stay with Susan Sweet Bird,” Dancing Cloud said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “But one day your fears must be faced and lost.”

  Brian Brave Walker nodded and lowered his eyes.

  Dancing Cloud slipped a hand over Lauralee’s fingers that layover the flesh of his arm. He squeezed them affectionately, smiled down at her, then turned back to the child. “Go,” he said thickly. “Listen to stories. Be happy. When Lauralee and I return from our journey to the trading post, then you will be expected to spend the night here with us. Is that understood?”

  Brian Brave Walker hesitated, then again nodded.

  Susan Sweet Bird took Brian Brave Walker by the hand and walked away with him, already busy with another folk tale of the Cherokee.

  Lauralee turned with Dancing Cloud and walked with him toward his cabin. They were silent about Brian Brave Walker or their concerns. They had been apart for too long to allow anything to spoil these moments together.

  When they reached the cabin they stopped before entering and looked heavenward. The moon was full, casting its glorious light across the village.

  Lauralee looked quickly over at Dancing Cloud when he began singing a song, his voice beautiful and resonant.

  “New moon, new moon, here I am in your presence,” he sang. “Here I am in your presence. Make it so that only I may occupy my woman’s heart tonight. My heart is like a rose tonight, opening its petals to embrace my woman. Let it be so.”

  When he was finished and he turned his dark eyes down to Lauralee, she smiled through a haze of tears up at him. “That was so beautiful,” she murmured, then trembled sensually when he whisked her up into his arms and carried her into his cabin.

  With a foot, he closed the door. His eyes never leaving hers, he carried Lauralee to the buffalo robe spread on the
floor in front of the fireplace.

  Without words, their eyes saying everything they were feeling about each other, they undressed and threw their clothes aside.

  Vibrant and glowing, Lauralee drifted into Dancing Cloud’s arms, his hard body like velvet and steel against hers.

  A kind of slow heat began licking through Lauralee’s body as Dancing Cloud crushed her lips with a fevered kiss, his palms moving seductively down her body, teasing, stroking her fiery flesh.

  Feeling the heat of his passion pressed against her abdomen made Lauralee reel with the onslaught of pleasure. When his hands stroked her slim, white thighs, she lifted one of her legs around him.

  She gasped with ecstasy when he came to her in one bold thrust. She locked her arms around his neck as her body absorbed how it felt to be with him again. She felt a drugged passion overwhelm her as his kisses became more demanding. He tantalized and loved her, his powerful hands caressing and stroking her silken flesh.

  She abandoned herself to the torrent of feelings that washed over her. She clung to him around the neck and kissed him long and hard as his hands kneaded her breasts. Her hips moved rhythmically with his.

  When that maddening rush of rapture was near again, she tried to hold back so that she could share the ultimate of pleasure with him. She could tell that he was nearing that point of wonder by how his body had stiffened and his chest was heaving. She could tell by how frenzied he was kissing her now. His fingers bit into her as he lifted her closer to him.

  Then he pressed his lips against the slender column of her throat. She wove her fingers lovingly through his hair as he reverently breathed her name against her flesh.

  And then he kissed her lips again as their bodies quavered and shook and quaked. They spoke in quiet, spasmodic gasps against each others’ lips. They clung hard as the stars in the heavens reached into their hearts and the winds became their breaths as their climax went on and on in a wild, dizzying rhythm, and then tapered off, leaving them shaken and spent once it ended.