Sucoora was pleased with Rebecca’s skills and friendliness. During the morning, they gathered wild vegetables, fruits, and berries, then cooked the midday meal. Later, they gathered wood and fetched water. While caring for the two smallest children, Kajihah kept busy with her sewing and beading—and with her gossip.
After the rest period, the children sat beside the tepee and shared their handmade toys. Kajihah began work on several parfleches for storage of winter pemmican. She sat near the children with other women who were performing similar tasks, and in the presence of others, she appeared to work diligently and deftly.
It was a peaceful camp. Everyone seemed occupied with his or her chore. Rebecca helped Sucoora with the two hides she was tanning. They had been stretched taut on frames built by Windrider, and the fat and hair had been scraped from them. Only the smoothing with a fleshing tool was left. Rebecca took one hide and Sucoora the other, and they talked as they labored. Sucoora halted at one point to tell Rebecca in a low tone that she was happy to have her help and company. She smiled and confided that Kajihah did very little work, which was no secret to the astute and observant Rebecca. There was sadness in her brown eyes when the Indian woman told Rebecca that Windrider favored Kajihah because she had borne him a son who still lived. Rebecca got the impression that Sucoora neither liked nor trusted the other woman.
When she asked why Kajihah had not borne him more children in the past three years, Sucoora grinned mischievously and told her that Windrider did not find Kajihah pleasing on the sleeping mat. Since he had three children, he had not felt the need to try for more! Rebecca bit her tongue to keep from asking if Windrider found Sucoora pleasing in that carnal way. Then she realized something she hadn’t noticed before; the two females put on their best faces before their guests and their husband. Surreptitiously, they were bitter rivals!
Rebecca sighed heavily. At this point, she certainly didn’t need to be trapped between two jealous and competitive wives! Perhaps that explained why Windrider was eager to find another woman, why he was susceptible to temptation. Perhaps he would be glad to rid himself of these two bickering creatures. Clearly he didn’t desire Kajihah, and Sucoora seemed more a sister than a wife. After all, children belonged to the father’s people, so he wouldn’t lose them. Neither female was provocative or exciting company for such a virile man. Rebecca could see why Windrider would find her desirable in many ways. Rebecca was not a vain woman, but she was aware of her beauty and appeal. She could understand how a passionate and vigorous brave like Windrider would want and need more than either of his wives could give him. In a curious way, that saddened her.
At the evening meal, the two wives carefully concealed their enmity, but Rebecca was certain Windrider was cognizant of their rivalry and pretense. As was the custom, the men ate first, then the children and women. The main course of their meal was a deer stew, the one slain by Windrider that morning. Unaware of how their words affected Windrider, the two wives highly praised Rebecca for her skills and labors. The devious Kajihah did so to encourage a longer stay from the helpful, hardworking white woman. Sucoora added compliments on Rebecca’s geniality and kindness. Windrider smiled at Rebecca, then boldly complimented Bright Arrow on his choice of a woman. He surprised her and his wives by giving Rebecca the lovely deerskin to make a garment for her new life among the Indians.
Rebecca smiled demurely and thanked Windrider for his kindness and generosity, as it would have been improper and insulting to refuse a gift. The Indians were known for their charity and brotherhood. When a warrior was ill or away, other warriors provided his family with meat and protection. At a warrior’s death, his property was given away or placed on his scaffold. If a warrior accumulated wealth, it suggested he was stingy, selfish, and cowardly. A respected warrior owned nothing but his weapons, horse, clothing, his children, and his sacred objects. The wife owned everything else.
As Rebecca uttered her words of thanks to Windrider, she sought hidden meanings in his compliments and generous gesture. She had noticed that Windrider had called her Bright Arrow’s “woman,” not “wife.” Her husband had smiled and thanked him, but what would he have done if he had known the truth! And what exactly was the truth? She wondered.
The sleeping arrangements were the same that night. Rebecca lay tense and rigid, praying that Windrider would not reach out to her again. Fearing someone might notice the interaction between them, she cautiously placed her back to the entrance. Windrider was alert and careful, for he did not make contact with her until all were asleep. Dozing lightly, she rolled to her side toward the incoming breeze. Sleepily she felt a finger caressing her lips, and she caught herself just before jumping up and squealing. Her eyes flew open and she sent Windrider a warning glare. He smiled engagingly, then brazenly passed a kiss along his forefinger to her lips. She stared at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend why he was being so rash, and she was greatly relieved when he crossed his muscular arms over his brawny chest and closed his enticing eyes.
This was the disquieting pattern Windrider set for many days. Her emotions were in an ever-increasing turmoil. The handsome Cheyenne warrior cleverly and covertly elicited wanton feelings within her, sensations which chewed hungrily at her body, sensations which she could not feed and which brought her discomfort and frustration. She tried to hide her tension and needs, desperately wishing Bright Arrow would request a private walk with her. But this constant smoldering fire of unrequited passion burned destructively within her mind and body without relief, for Bright Arrow was too distracted by his own problems and feelings to perceive hers.
It seemed that things were not going well for Bright Arrow with some of the Cheyenne warriors.
Rebecca and Sucoora had just finished filling the water bags at the river, when Sucoora enlightened her about Bright Arrow’s situation. Rebecca hadn’t known about the treatment her man was receiving and enduring. Many of the warriors were using every occasion to tease and best Bright Arrow. Whenever there was a hunt, it exposed how blunted his skills and instincts were. Whatever the contest, Bright Arrow always came in last. Any warrior could pin him to the hard ground in wrestling, and any brave could outshoot him with arrows or outthrow him with the lance. He hadn’t been successful in a single hunt, sport, or raid.
Rebecca listened as she was told of his many problems. He had difficulty keeping up with the well-trained, welltoned bodies of the Cheyenne warriors. Sucoora hinted that he was getting depressed and discouraged. He had even accused his allies of appearing more interested in embarrassing and mocking him than in helping him.
Rebecca couldn’t believe her ears when Sucoora told her that he had passed out in the sweat lodge. During a foot race, he had been carried back to camp on a young brave’s horse after collapsing with pains in his side. He had been wheezing violently, hardly able to breathe. Rebecca claimed it was the heat, but Sucoora shook her head. On a raid, White Antelope had saved his life after he had been knocked from his horse by a Pawnee warrior, a gift of life Bright Arrow would someday have to repay. He had wanted to seek a vision quest, but Windrider and the medicine chief, Running Elk, had refused to allow it. They told him he lacked the stamina to survive.
Rebecca grimaced in dismay. Bright Arrow couldn’t seem to do anything right. He had lost himself in the wilderness with her. Yet he had been raised a warrior. Surely those skills were merely dulled; they couldn’t just vanish forever! she told herself. Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough, or maybe too hard. Rebecca asked Sucoora why they were being so cruel to him. Sucoora grinned and vowed it was best for him. She claimed that Bright Arrow needed fury, fury which would inspire courage and determination to prove the others wrong.
“You mean it’s all a trick?” Rebecca cried in astonishment.
“He does not try with all heart, Becca,” Sucoora responded, calling her the shortened name she had chosen for her. “He gain strength and bravery from taunts and laughter. He must push. He will fall many times but must push more. He wishes the
m easy on him. No can be that way. Bad for Bright Arrow. Blood must burn to be one,” she stated, holding up one finger to indicate first place. “When blood burn, victory is captured. He must try more. He must prove he be big man. Little man no good for people.”
“But he needs encouragement, Sucoora. He needs kindness and help. He probably thinks they’re laughing at him. No man likes to be a fool. Maybe I should talk to him,” she murmured pensively.
“Must not!” the woman declared. “He no fight; he no win his battle. If he learns trick, he no try hard. He no have fury to give guts,” she asserted, punching her stomach for emphasis. “If you no hold tongue silent, he no become man. You good woman, Becca. Not right for Bright Arrow. You best be Cheyenne wife. Sioux strange. They no take back white woman. Bright Arrow join Oglala woman. You stay here. Sucoora speak to Windrider. He bring you to his tepee like Sucoora. Sucoora and Becca be sisters. We make good fight for Kajihah. You live here, Windrider no have use for Kajihah. She bad. He send away. Windrider good man. He need woman like Becca. You beautiful; you strong; you smart. You good woman.”
Rebecca was staggered by her unexpected words. Had Windrider instilled such thoughts in her mind? Had he sought this woman’s help in obtaining her? Did Windrider want her to replace Kajihah or both wives? The puzzle was becoming more and more complex.
Rebecca asked, “Why would you say such things, Sucoora? I belong to Bright Arrow. Windrider has two wives. He doesn’t need me.”
“Windrider need good woman; Becca good woman. Windrider deserve beautiful woman; Becca beautiful. You live in Windrider tepee; you be happy. Windrider best Cheyenne warrior. He make Becca good husband. I see no love in Bright Arrow. He no smile or touch Becca. He no make Becca smile, happy. He no give Becca good moon on mat. He sees only warrior’s life. He selfish, not good. Man who love woman touch her plenty, smile at her. Hands and eyes no stay off her. Not true with Bright Arrow. Windrider make Becca good man.”
Rebecca shook her head and admonished the woman, trying to hush her, “How can you entice me to marry your own husband? Don’t you love him? How can you bear to share him with another woman? I couldn’t live that way,” she confessed hastily.
“I love Windrider’s brother. He gone to Great Spirit. No place to go. I stay with Windrider. He kind. Be good to woman. Windrider best warrior, good man,” she stressed. “Windrider need woman to love. Windrider no love Sucoora, no love Kajihah. If Becca smile, she steal Windrider’s eye, set fire in heart and body. Send Bright Arrow to Oglala; they help him. You stay. No share Windrider with others,” she boldly promised the shocked woman whose spirit was greatly troubled.
“You must not say such things, Sucoora. If Kajihah heard you, she would be angry. I’m sure Windrider wouldn’t want you to speak such words to me. I belong to Bright Arrow. He’s having trouble, and he needs me. I don’t want to hurt him. Let’s forget about this talk, all right?” she entreated anxiously.
“I pray each night for Great Spirit to guide Becca to Windrider’s heart and tepee. You no be sorry. You no be sad. You be good mates. I shut mouth. I take water to tepee. I come back, help with wood.” With that, Sucoora lumbered away toward camp, leaving Rebecca with her disjointed thoughts.
“I pray for the same thing, Becca,” a masculine voice stated playfully behind her. “What fills your prayers each sun and moon?”
Rebecca whirled to find Windrider lazing against a tree. A broad and beguiling grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and brightened his obsidian eyes. “I… didn’t…see you,” she stammered. “Where’s… Bright Arrow?” she asked, wondering how much he had heard.
“He went hunting with White Antelope. He will not return until the sun is high again,” he responded.
“You mean tomorrow?” she queried nervously, aware of their isolation and his dangerous proximity. She wished Sucoora would hurry. Anxious, and alert to his probing scrutiny, she flushed under his discerning gaze.
“White Antelope will train him in secret. It will go good for Bright Arrow to move without the eyes of many laughing warriors on him. Mistakes are smaller when no one sees them. Soon he will be ready to train hard and fast. He will be a warrior before the snows fall. His body obeys him more each sun. When that moon comes, Windrider will no longer shine brighter than his friend. Do you fear to be alone with Windrider?” he challenged, coming to stand before her.
“Did you ask Sucoora to say those things to me?” she inquired, watching his expression closely. She hadn’t known he was around and was embarrassed and dismayed to realize he had overheard their talk.
“I did not. But she speaks wisely and true,” he added. He chuckled when she blushed and lowered her lashes for a brief time.
“What if she repeats them to Kajihah or others?” she fretted, bravely meeting his gaze.
“She will hold her tongue. She is loyal to me,” he asserted confidently. “There is no love or passion between Windrider and Sucoora. We are friends and helpers. Will you think on her words?” he coaxed.
“You can’t keep pressing me like this,” she pleaded.
“Because you fear you will surrender to me?” he asked as he trapped her between the tree and his stalwart frame. “Have you forgotten what it was like between us that moon in your wooden tepee? Have you forgotten how we touched in the cave? You must be mine,” he declared forcefully, urgently, as his lips brushed against hers. He stroked her cheek with his smooth one.
Rebecca tried to push him away, but his body refused to move. “Please, Windrider, you must not do this,” she pleaded in alarm. “Sucoora will return at any moment. She must not see us like this.”
A surge of daring shot through him, and he boldly declared, “I care not who sees or learns I want you as I have never wanted or desired another female. While you are near, I must pursue you for my wife. We do nothing wrong; you are a free woman. I will not stop my battle for you until you marry Bright Arrow.”
“But everyone thinks we’re joined,” she argued. “Bright Arrow would challenge you to a fight if he learned about us. You know how proud and possessive he is. He thinks I belong to him. One of you could be slain. This isn’t the time for me to make a choice between you. Bright Arrow needs me, Windrider. He’s so miserable.”
“I need you more,” Windrider retorted. “Bright Arrow knows the Indian customs and ways. He does not own you. He will not battle for a woman who chooses another man,” he stated smugly. He seized her chin and restrained her movements, commanding, “Say no man lives in your heart and mind but Bright Arrow. Say his hands and eyes cannot stay off of you. Say he fills your needs. Say you are happy. Say you do not want me. Say I do not make you tremble with desire. Tell me such words and I will walk from you.”
Rebecca paled, then flushed. She licked her dry lips as her eyes darted about aimlessly, nervously. She tried to shift in his embrace, to free her chin from his confining grasp. “You’re his friend. You can’t hurt him and end that friendship over me,” she argued.
“Yes,” he replied, the decision already made in the back of his mind. Still, it surprised him as he heard himself speak it aloud. Once he had done so, he repeated, “Yes, I would steal you at any price.”
Sheer terror washed over her, for she knew he was telling the truth. “But what about Bright Arrow?” she inquired faintly.
Windrider remained deep in thought for a time. Then he suggested, “I will send Bright Arrow into the mountains with White Antelope to hone his body and skills. Once he has regained himself and his rank, your loss will not pain him as deeply. I will take you to the Oglala camp to speak with Gray Eagle and Shalee. You will learn if they will accept you in his life and tepee. If they say yes, I will allow you to choose which man you love and desire. If they say no, you will free Bright Arrow on his return. When he leaves my camp, you will join to Windrider. Is that not fair?” He watched her contemplate his words.
“I’ll go to see Gray Eagle and Shalee. I’ll explain everything to them. If they reject me, I’ll return here wit
h you. But Bright Arrow must have a chance to speak with them before I free him. They could tell me no, but they might give him a different answer. I’ll send him home for one full moon,” she decided, setting a time limit of almost a month. “If he cannot convince them to allow us to marry, then I’ll free him.” She waited for Windrider to protest her decision, but he did not.
“Will you join to me the sun you speak such words to him? Will you give me your promise?” he persisted.
“If he decides he doesn’t want me to return home with him… or if his people still reject me after a month, I’ll marry you that day.” She delivered the shocking words in a low and quivering tone.
“We will leave when Bright Arrow is gone. He must not learn of our visit; he would try to stop us. I will hunt for a beautiful hide to make a joining dress. You will be mine before two full moons cross the night sky,” he vowed with self-assurance.
‘There is one demand, Windrider,” she stated clearly and distinctly. Her next words brought a disarming smile of amusement and pleasure to his lips. “I will share you with no other woman. And I will share our tepee with no other—slave or wife. I will fill your heart and life completely, or I will not come to your tepee. If you do not agree that I will be enough for you, speak now.”
He cupped her face between his hands, allowing his admiring gaze to travel over her features. The promise came easily and tenderly. “I will share you with no other man, and you will share me with no other woman. We will be perfect mates. Your demand is fair. I accept it. It is hard to keep my eyes and thoughts from you. My heart and body burn for you. Our joining day cannot come too soon.”
Before he could kiss her, they heard Sucoora returning. He sent her a mischievous grin and wink, then vanished into the trees. Rebecca returned to her task of gathering wood. If Sucoora observed that she hadn’t collected much in the length of time she had been gone, she didn’t say anything. The older female hummed merrily as she worked.
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