“I cannot free her! Where would she go? Who would protect her? Who could care for her? I took her into my life and tepee. I am responsible for her. What about my honor? How can I endure the guilt and shame of tossing her away? She is the mother of my children. She has trust in me. She never deserted me during my suffering and exile. What warrior shows no mercy to one so helpless and gentle? It is wrong to cast her aside. I must make them understand. I must make them accept her in my life-circle,” he declared.
“If they cannot accept white women in the hearts and tepees of braves, how can they allow one to live with the son of their leader? How can they allow one to live with a warrior who could become their next chief? They think she is bad for you. They will not change their minds. There is too much hatred and bitterness toward her. If you force their hand, it will be worse than before. You must return alone to your camp. There is danger if you take Rebecca with you to speak to your council. Men with hatred and anger in their hearts commit rash acts. An arrow could find its way into her heart to free you,” Windrider suggested. “When the time is right, go to your people, my friend. Stay with them one full moon. Earn their love and respect. If they will not accept Rebecca as your woman, then free her as she asks. Do not make her your slave or whore. There can be no bond between a white girl and a Sioux warrior. Have you not learned this by now?”
“I cannot choose between them,” Bright Arrow stated defiantly.
“You did many seasons past,” Windrider reminded him. “You do not wish to face this trouble again, but you must. You cannot have both. Seek the prize that you cannot live without, then release the other forever.”
“I cannot survive as a white man. I will die slowly and painfully in his wooden tepee and in the lands that he has stolen from my people. I am a hunter and a warrior. I can be nothing less,” he explained wearily. The more Bright Arrow mulled over his problem, the more he tried to find hope that there was a way out.
Windrider sighted his opening and daringly took it. “Then your choice is clear. Accept it and stop this torment of two friends.” He inhaled deeply to steady his nerves before boldly saying, “Your heart is heavy over her safety and happiness. Your mind swirls as rapidly as a muddy river after a fierce storm. Take heart, Bright Arrow; she can live in my tepee. I will protect her. I will hunt hides for her to make her garments. I will hunt game to feed her. I will let no one harm her. She will find peace and safety in Windrider’s tepee.”
Bright Arrow turned and looked at Windrider. “You would do this for me?” he inquired in astonishment and pleasure.
“I would do this for my friend Bright Arrow, for the gentle Rebecca, and for Windrider. When I send Kajihah away, I will have need of another woman in my tepee. There are many tasks and children for Sucoora. They are friends. It will be a happy tepee. My people will accept her. I will accept her. Does this lighten your spirit?”
Bright Arrow sighed gravely. If he could not win his battle with his council, Windrider had offered him the perfect solution. She would be safe in the Cheyenne camp, and she would be near for visits. His spirits soared, and he smiled in relief. Yes, she could live within his reach. If the council voted differently one day, he would come and claim her. If’not, he could sneak here to be with her as often as possible. He placed his right hand on Windrider’s shoulder and squeezed it in affection and appreciation. “It will be as you say, my friend,” he agreed without revealing his secret plans. After all, Windrider had said “woman,” not wife. The thought of his friend marrying Rebecca had never entered his mind.
Windrider was too shocked to reply. Could his dreams be coming true? Rebecca had agreed to become his wife if the vote was against her. Cloud Chaser had vowed she would be rejected. Bright Arrow had given him permission to take her when that order was given. Once Kajihah was gone and Rebecca was in his arms and tepee, he would surely know ecstasy and serenity, he reflected. Windrider’s body and mind became inflamed with visions of taking her to his mats each moon. And the best prize was not having to trick either his friend or his love!
“I must seek Rebecca and give her this good news,” Bright Arrow stated, relieved. “She will see it is best for all concerned if she lives in Windrider’s tepee.” The two warriors clasped hands tightly and smiled at each other as Bright Arrow added, “My heart is glad I call Windrider friend.”
Chapter Eleven
Bright Arrow returned to the area where he and Rebecca had spoken earlier. He looked around for her and called her name, but she did not answer or appear. He dropped to the ground on one knee and sought evidence of her trail. Finding it, he followed the markings to where she sat beside a thick bush near a tree. A tremor of concern and indecision raced over him, as he feared she wouldn’t agree to his plan.
He observed her. Her knees were hugged to her chest, and her forehead rested on them. From the shallow rise and fall of her respiration, it seemed she hardly breathed. He stepped in front of her and spoke her name. “Rebecca.” When she did not respond, he hunkered down and said, “We must talk.”
Without lifting her head, she replied in a muffled voice, ‘There is nothing more to say. Your tribe will never accept me. It is over. I must find another life and home.”
Rebecca had reached the point of numbness. She couldn’t cry, and her mind didn’t want to think. Her tongue refused to speak. It was hopeless, she thought. She had battled his predicament so long that she was mentally exhausted. Her warring emotions had drained her of energy and stamina. At last she had admitted defeat. She wasn’t sure she even cared anymore, except about her children.
“Do not fear. If the vote is against us, I have made plans for you. You cannot live alone and in danger. Windrider will take you to live in his tepee. He will keep you safe. He will provide for your needs. He is sending Kajihah home to her father; she is a bad woman. You will be Sucoora’s sister. I will bring the children to visit you. It will be good for all,” he asserted eagerly, forgetting to explain his underlying meaning. “If the moon comes when my tribe will allow you to join me, I promise I will come for you,” he added, unintentionally withholding the words that would make his intentions and feelings clear.
As Rebecca raised her head, her chestnut locks fell over her slumped shoulders. Her tawny eyes observed his relaxed manner and enthusiastic gaze. She noted his sunny smile. Was he serious? Was he actually giving her to another man? He even looked cheerful over his decision! Why not? she thought angrily. It would solve his problems nicely and neatly! And if he thought for one minute she would sob and plead, he was wrong.
“If that is what you wish, Bright Arrow, then I will remain here in Windrider’s camp and tepee,” she concurred, her response so quick that he was baffled. “I have no people and no place else to go. When will you ride to your camp?” she questioned, her expression blank.
“I will be ready in ten days,” he replied, using the white man’s time description. “I must have more training. I must visit the sweat lodge and seek a vision. Then I will ride to the Oglala camp and speak with my father. If the council allows, I will remain there. I will ask permission to have you. If they say no, we will be patient until they change their minds.”
Rebecca’s obscure expression never changed, though she was very much aware that Bright Arrow’s mood and voice were light. He was casually planning her fate as he wished it to be! And she was to be patient? she angrily reflected to herself, despising the offending word he had probably used just to appease her. With her tossed into Windrider’s lap without a fuss, his problems would be over. “You have given this situation much thought,” she said aloud, “and your decisions are clever. The hour grows late. We must return for the evening meal.” As she spoke the words, she wondered if he expected or desired her to protest.
When she started to rise, his hands captured her shoulders. “Do not go. I wish to be alone with you. Come, we will make love beneath Wakantanka’s stars,” he huskily entreated, his hand slipping down to cup her breast. “Soon we will part. We must spend o
ur remaining moments together.” His fingertips teased the nipple.
Rebecca pushed herself to a standing position, causing him to fall to his seat. She was rankled by his mood and suggestion. He offers me to another man, then wants to enjoy me one last time! she inwardly fumed. Then she tightly announced, “We cannot touch again. You are to leave soon, and I am to stay. I do not wish to burden Windrider and Sucoora with a pregnant female. I would be of little use to either one. I would cause Sucoora more work. I cannot allow your seed to enter my body and grow there,” she stated with finality.
“But I have need of you. You are my woman,” he argued, his manhood taut and fiery. “What does it matter if you bear another child of mine?” he reasoned in bewilderment.
“Until the council agrees, I am not your woman. We have three children who can be called bastards; we are not wed. We have never been wed. I do not wish to live here heavy with your child. If you have needs, visit the prisoner’s tepee,” she suggested indifferently.
“There is no prisoner’s tepee in my camp! My father does not allow any white to come there, free or slave, friend or foe!”
“I am sure there will be plenty of Oglala maidens eager to please the glorious son of Gray Eagle, on your mats or in the cool forest. While you are still a free man, seek the pleasures of many females. You might enjoy a variety for a change,” she spat at him.
“Why do you speak such vulgar words?” he scolded her.
“Men have needs. You do not have a wife. What is the harm in filling those needs with willing women?” she debated, angry and bitter that he was throwing her at another man. His calm acceptance of that fact ranked her greatly. Did he truly understand the implications of his shocking decision?
“You wish me to make love to other women?” he asked in disbelief.
“I wish you to be happy, whatever that requires,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Some woman must feed your hungers, for I cannot. Tell me, has your appetite for the mats come back with the return of your prowess?” she asked sarcastically.
“Did I not feed you a few weeks past?” he taunted angrily.
“What is one meal in many, many months?” she cruelly retorted. “Now that your hunger has returned with your manhood, you must feast elsewhere. Or do without, as I did for many months while you ignored me. I will not bear your next child until we are joined.”
“What if you already carry my child?” he challenged.
“That cannot be helped. But taking more risks can. I do not do this to anger you or hurt you, Bright Arrow. Don’t you see how difficult it would be for me?” she asked, trying another strategy to cool his passion. “My carrying a child under these conditions would be difficult for everyone.”
Bright Arrow quelled further insults or rebukes. She was right, he realized. If his manhood ached too fiercely, he would find some female to ease its suffering while she was lost to him. “We will do as you say,” he reluctantly and sullenly acquiesced.
When they entered the outskirts of the camp, Bright Arrow announced he was going to visit the medicine chief for a short time. He told her he needed to make plans for his vision quest. Rebecca went to Windrider’s tepee. Only Sucoora and the children were present. The children were playing outside while waiting for the evening meal, so fascinated by Kajihah’s daughter Tansia’s play tepee, travois, and handmade dolls that the girls didn’t notice their mother’s arrival. A youthful Cheyenne girl was teaching them about tepees, travel, camps, and families—the women’s concerns in Indian society. Rebecca recognized her as the daughter of Windrider’s deceased brother, the one whose mother had wed White Antelope. Even Tashina sucked on her forefinger and sat in entranced silence as Little Turtle spoke with knowledge and authority.
Sucoora was busy completing her chores. She had suspended a buffalo paunch from four stakes. Inside it was their venison stew. Sucoora took hot rocks and dropped them into the mixture to make it boil. She would continue this procedure until the meat and vegetables were done. Bread pones slowly cooked on flat rocks nearby. They were made of dried berries and corn purchased from another tribe.
As Rebecca walked over to her, Sucoora ceased her task to hug her, laughing merrily. At Rebecca’s baffled expression, Sucoora shrieked in glee, “Windrider sent Kajihah to her father, Becca. He says you will live here if the council refuses your joining with Bright Arrow. Kajihah will speak many lies to them. She will say you took her place. Their hate will grow as the Prairie grass. Do not fear. Sucoora and Windrider will love and protect you. We will be sisters,” she babbled excitedly.
Rebecca frowned. It seemed she was the last one to learn her own fate, a fate planned by others! Doubtlessly Kajihah would kill any minuscule chance of her joining with Bright Arrow! “Why did he send her away?” she asked solemnly. “She is the mother of his children. It is cruel to separate them,” she fretted, praying she wasn’t to blame for this deed. She worried that Windrider had done this intentionally, to end all chances of the council accepting her and to rid himself of one wife.
Sucoora sensed Rebecca’s anxiety and self-recriminations, and she resolved to make certain Rebecca didn’t blame herself or Windrider. She hated Kajihah; she was glad that lazy creature was gone. And she knew Windrider would find Rebecca pleasing on his mats. She didn’t care about more children; she loved Kajihah’s as her own. Also, she had never enjoyed the mats with any man except her beloved husband, Windrider’s brother. If Rebecca lived with them, she would fill Windrider’s every need and dream. She was not a blind fool; she had noticed the way Windrider secretly watched Rebecca. She understood that hungry gleam in his eyes. She had seen his buckskin pants tighten while his eyes watched the white girl who was beautiful and gentle. She had noticed how Rebecca had tried to hold her feelings under tight guard; now she could free them. No one would be hurt, for Bright Arrow had given his permission for them to become mates.
“Now I will speak of matters that must not pass beyond Sucoora and Becca,” Sucoora began in a conspiratorial tone. She glanced around to make certain no one could overhear her words. “Kajihah is evil. She placed the death camas in my son’s mouth. She did not gather the camas with blue flowers; she picked those with cloud colors. She wished Windrider to have no son but hers. She hated my son and feared Windrider loved him more than all her children.”
“You cannot mean she poisoned a small child?” Rebecca argued in horror.
“Yes. When she was sick on her mat, I tended her. Her fever brought many words from her mouth. I could not tell Windrider. He would think me crazy over my son’s death. I have watched her many years. I feared she would poison me. That is why I gather the food and cook all meals,” the woman revealed earnestly.
“But she is lazy. She loved having you do the chores.”
“If I were dead, no one could uncover her evil. She could find another slave to do her work. I have watched her since you came. She knew Windrider dreamed of you. I feared her hatred and envy would slay you. She is sly; she pretends to sew and tend the children. She has not pleased Windrider since she took his seed for their son. It is good she was sent away. She burned with hatred, for she could not entrap her husband. She wished to hurt him, to make his spirit weak, to bring him under her power. She is evil and dangerous, Becca.”
“Did you tell Windrider your suspicions?” Rebecca inquired.
“I told him I feared her jealousy would bring harm to you. I told him she was bad and lazy. Come, I will show you what I found,” she entreated. She pulled Rebecca by the arm.
They entered the tepee. Sucoora retrieved a parfleche from beside Kajihah’s sleeping mat. She withdrew a small branch; from its damaged stems, Rebecca could tell it had been plucked hurriedly. Rebecca gazed at the purple flowers and two scarlet fruits, each the size of a hen’s egg. She didn’t have to be told that it was wahoo, or that it was poisonous. “She hides wanhu. She seeks to poison another. I do not say it is Becca. Kajihah hated Sucoora. Now she is gone. She can cause no danger or evil in Windrider’s
tepee. Come, I must cook.” Sucoora left her alone.
Rebecca went into the forest. After digging a hole with a buffalo horn, she buried the offensive and deadly wanhu where the children could not find it. She returned as hastily as possible to help Sucoora. Soon the meal was ready. Since the men were gone, the children and women ate inside the tepee. On questioning Sucoora, Rebecca learned that Windrider was not going all the way to the Oglala camp with Kajihah; he was to return in two days. Friends of his were to escort Kajihah to her father’s tepee.
When Bright Arrow finally came to sit on his mat, Sucoora served him. Then she rolled Kajihah’s mat and stored it, putting Rebecca’s in its place, out of reach of both warriors.
Two days passed and Windrider was still away. Rebecca knew that if he had decided to escort Kajihah home, his journey might require eight days or less, depending on how swiftly he rode home. She couldn’t be sure that Sucoora’s words were true, but she did know that Kajihah had no reason to have a dangerous plant in her possession. One of the children might have found it and consumed it! She could only assume that Kajihah had intended to harm someone. But whom?
Three more days passed, and still Windrider did not appear. Bright Arrow continued his exercises with White Antelope and other warriors. His skills improved and his instincts sharpened. Now he won more contests than he lost. There was no doubt he was working hard. After three more days passed, only a few elite warriors could challenge him and win. Each time he went hunting, he always returned with some kind of game. Each time they went on a raid, he returned with a prize from a defeated enemy. When two more days passed, the Cheyenne medicine chief said Bright Arrow was ready to enter the sweat lodge to purify himself to seek his vision. It was time; the waiting was over. Ten days had passed and Windrider had not returned.
Stolen Ecstasy Page 20