“You can talk to her. She listens to you, Grandfather. Please talk to her. Make her understand I love her very much. I love all of you. But it is something very deep in my heart, this feeling I have to be Indian. You must make her understand that. You can do it because you know how I am feeling. And now that I have been disgraced, it is even more important that I do this, to win back my honor and respect, and to be a man in front of Snowbird.”
Caleb put an arm around him and led him out of the stall. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you, Grandfather!” The boy hugged him around the middle. James came into the barn just as they were embracing, and he stopped for a moment, watching them and scowling, feeling the old jealousy he always felt over how his father felt about Cale. Caleb noticed his son, saw the look on his face, and read it with an aching heart.
“James. Did you bring in that old red stud that’s been giving us so much trouble?”
The boy walked closer almost reluctantly. “I found him,” he mumbled. When he got closer, his eyes widened at the sight of Cale’s bruised body. “What happened to you?”
Cale stepped back, looking helplessly at his grandfather. Caleb knew the boy didn’t want his family to know what had happened.
“Cale had a little run-in with a couple of Indian boys. It’s all straight now. Just a little betting on a shooting contest that got out of hand,” Caleb answered for his grandson.
James smiled in a near sneer. “Were they drunk?” he snipped.
Cale frowned. “No. They were not drunk.”
James turned away, taking down a bridle. “Well, it serves you right. I could have told you that if you hang around with that kind long enough you’ll get into a lot of trouble.” He walked to a stall and began fitting the bridle onto a black mare.
“What do you mean by ‘that kind’?” Caleb asked his son.
James glanced at him, then looked back at the horse, always angry with himself for feeling somewhat awestruck and almost afraid of his father. “I just mean those ruffians who know nothing but fighting and gambling and drinking and making war.”
“You don’t know anything about them.” Cale spoke up before Caleb could answer. “They have a way of life that is beautiful and would even be peaceful if the white man would let them alone. They know a freedom no white man knows—a peace that comes from the inside, a closeness to the spirits. They need none of the things the white man needs to survive. Maheo provides all that they need in the land and the animals.”
James scowled at him. He didn’t want to hear any of it, for he was sure his father favored Cale over his own son. “Don’t talk to me about Maheo and the strong and brave Cheyenne.” James wondered himself why he was speaking the way he was in front of his father. “I don’t look Indian and I don’t intend to be Indian or let any strangers know I have Indian blood!”
Cale stepped closer, fists clenched, while Caleb just stared at his son. “You will never be at peace as long as you feel that way. I wish you would come with me and Grandfather—come to the Sun Dance. I am going to make the sacrifice, James. I am proud to be Indian, and so should you be. Come with us! Let us ride together as when we were younger and good friends. You were always my best friend, James.”
James leaned against a post, looking from Cale to his father. “It’s true? He’s going to make the Sun Dance sacrifice?”
Caleb nodded. “It’s true. Come with us, James.”
The boy’s face grew darker. “You don’t want me with you. It’s a special time for you and Cale. You’ve always liked him better. Now he will truly be your favorite, because he is making the sacrifice.”
“Don’t talk stupid, James,” Caleb told him angrily.
“It isn’t stupid. I am not Indian, Father, and I have no desire to go live with a bunch of them and watch that barbaric ritual of manhood.” The words poured out unwanted, out of bitter jealousy. He didn’t want them to come, yet he could not stop himself. “You think Cale is wonderful now because he will make the sacrifice. And you think I am weak and worthless. Well, I’m not! Someday I will be very successful all on my own, and while Cale is riding with the Cheyenne and all of them are dying, I will be a successful man enjoying the luxuries only a man with no Indian blood can enjoy—luxuries my own mother can never have because of you!”
Caleb flinched almost as though someone had hit him. His fists clenched. Never before had he been tempted to hit one of his own children, but now he held himself in check. It was Cale that could not. The boy hauled off and punched his uncle James roundly in the chest, knocking him against the horse he had been getting ready to ride. James slid down the side of the animal and fell hard on his rump, but was immediately up again, glaring at Cale.
“Go ahead to your stupid Sun Dance,” he hissed, tears coming to his eyes. “Take my father with you and make him proud! He has never been proud of me! Go and live with the Cheyenne so that I don’t always have to be compared to you! Go away, Cale, and stay away!”
Caleb stepped closer, reaching around Cale and grasping James’s arm. “How in God’s name can you say I’ve never been proud of you?” he asked angrily, his eyes wide and hurt. “I’ve always been proud—of all my children and grandchildren, each one for what he or she is as a human being! But right now I am ashamed of you—for your cruel words and selfish attitude!”
The boy jerked away. “I saw you hugging him. And you have just said you will go to the Sun Dance ritual with him. You have always thought Cale was better than me.”
“That isn’t true, James.”
“Yes, it is! Why did you have to be my father! Why did an Indian have to be my father!”
Their eyes held challengingly. Caleb struggled to keep from hitting his son, and he could see by the boy’s eyes he regretted what he had said, but James said nothing in the way of an apology. He whirled and jumped up onto the back of the horse he had bridled.
“See?” he sneered. “I can ride, too. I can do a lot of things, Father.”
The hurt in Caleb’s eyes pulled at James’s heart, but for some reason he wanted it to be there, wanted his father to suffer. It was only right, for he himself would suffer the rest of his life just because he had Indian blood.
“I am through with my chores for the day.” James turned his horse and rode past them out of the barn.
Cale turned and looked up at his grandfather, his heart aching at the hurt and sorrow in the man’s eyes. He touched Caleb’s arm. “I am sorry, Grandfather. It is my fault.”
Caleb looked down at him, touching his shoulder. “Don’t ever say that, Cale. You are what you are, and you have never done one thing to cause this. There is a terrible restlessness in James’s heart that nothing can help—not even my love. He has never forgotten the hurt in Texas, and for a while I wasn’t much of a father then.”
“He should understand how hard it was for you, too. He is selfish.” Cale looked down at his fist. “I should not have hit him. It is not the first time we have fought.” He met his grandfather’s eyes again. “Maybe you should not go to the Sun Dance with me.”
Caleb put an arm around him. “I will go. I do my best for each member of this family, Cale. Apparently that isn’t enough for James. I’m through trying to cleanse the bitterness from his heart. That’s something he has to do himself. My heart aches for the suffering he’s going to experience by denying his own blood. I don’t know anymore how to help him.”
“Then we must pray for him. At the Sun Dance we can pray for him. There is powerful medicine there. The spirits listen well.”
Caleb took hope in the words, proud of how understanding Cale could be, proud of the man he was becoming. He couldn’t bring himself to spoil this major decision Cale had made with troubles over James. He could do nothing but love his son, but apparently that was not enough.
He wondered if he should just pick the boy up, sling him over his lap, and spank him like a child. But he had never hit any of his children, and he could not get over the regret that maybe some of i
t was his fault after all. Somehow, somewhere, he had failed James. And like other bewildered parents who suffered similar problems with their children, he couldn’t quite place when and where it had happened.
They walked outside and a bird cried out overhead. Caleb looked up to see a hawk, his sign. A chill moved through him, for he realized he was himself being untrue to his real calling. Only Cale was doing that. He remembered his own vision of a hawk, changing from blue to red and white, a voice telling him he would forever be tortured by being a part of two worlds—that one day the two must come together into one man.
“Grandfather! A hawk,” Cale said almost worshipfully. “It is a good sign. Maybe it means it is right that I go to the Sun Dance.”
“It means more than that, Cale.”
The hawk disappeared into the sun, and Sarah called from the house. He looked at her across the distance. Sarah. His beautiful Sarah.
“Let’s go talk to your mother and grandmother and Jess about what you want to do.”
“You won’t tell them what really happened to me?”
Caleb grinned. “I won’t tell them.”
“What about James?”
“James has made his own decisions, just like you’re doing. Every man has to live with those decisions, Cale. There is nothing more I can do about it. I just hope whatever he does he doesn’t hurt his mother. I don’t mind his hurting me.”
They walked toward the cabin. Caleb looked back to see the hawk flying off in the distance toward James, disappearing over the rise.
• Chapter Fourteen •
Everyone sat around the supper table in strained silence. James had not returned, and Cale ate as though his entire body was in pain. Lynda kept looking at him with teary eyes, finally setting aside her fork.
“Cale, I can’t keep going through this. Now, I can only guess what happened to you at that village, since neither you nor grandfather will tell me.” Her chiding blue eyes moved to her father, whom she loved to the point of worship, but with whom she was also very angry at the moment. “All I know is this is the end of it. You will not go back to that village!”
The boy set down his own fork, while Jess and Caleb and Sarah all exchanged looks. When Lynda set her mind to something it was difficult to change it, as Jess well knew from when he had first tried to court her and she had thought he was an enemy of her father’s. But Cale was just like his mother when it came to stubbornness. Now his dark eyes held her blue ones daringly.
“Yes, I will go back, Mother,” he answered firmly, watching her eyes widen with indignation. “I respect your wishes, but Cheyenne mothers of men my age don’t try to tell them what to do. It’s disgraceful.”
“Disgraceful! Men! You’re only thirteen years old! I’ll grant you seem much older and your build defies your age. But you’re still thirteen. And as far as disgraceful, look at you! Look at what they’ve done to you! How can you think of going back?”
“It was just punishment for something I did wrong,” he answered, raising his voice sightly. “It won’t happen again. They are a people with rules and I was treated fairly. Besides, I will be fourteen this year. And I intend to show them the kind of man I am, so that this will never happen again. I am going to participate in the Sun Dance ritual this summer. Grandfather is going with me.”
“Caleb!” Sarah blurted out his name in surprise at the news none of them knew anything about.
Caleb quickly swallowed a piece of meat, feeling his daughter’s wrath as her eyes, as blue and sometimes as icy as her father’s, turned to him in surprise and desperation. “What is my son talking about?”
Caleb frowned at Cale, who pouted and hung his head; then Caleb looked at Lynda. In all his years of fighting and killing, he wondered if he had ever faced a challenge quite like this. He sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. “Cale wants to take part in the Sun Dance this summer, and he has asked me to be there.”
Lynda just stared at him a moment, breathing heavily. Caleb glanced at Jess, whose eyes said “good luck with this one,” and Caleb suppressed an urge to grin.
“And you both decided all of this without asking me, his own mother?” Lynda voice was high and strained with an effort to keep from screaming the words.
Caleb leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table and leaning closer to his daughter, who sat just around the corner from him on his left. “Lynda, I was going to talk to you alone. I didn’t mean for it to come out this way.”
She just blinked and stared at him.
“Lynda, the boy wants very much to do this. There is nothing you could do to show your love in any more powerful way than to let him—to be proud of him in the way a Cheyenne woman would be proud of her own son’s decision to do such a thing.”
“Does he realize what they will do to him?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Caleb reached out to grasp one of her hands. She did not pull away. “Of course he does. And I’ve been through it myself, Lynda. With me there, I know he can get through it. For a Cheyenne boy it’s the most important event in his entire life. And if it’s in his heart to do it, you have to let him.”
Jess reached over and put an arm around her shoulders, while young John watched his mother in confusion, shoving half a biscuit into his mouth so that his cheeks bulged while he chewed and listened.
“I’ll lose him forever then,” Lynda protested.
“Lynda, if you refuse to let him do this, you’ll lose him in the worst way,” Jess told her gently. “I don’t understand all this Indian stuff, but Caleb does, and he understands how Cale is feeling. If you keep trying to hang on to him and keep him in our world, he’ll be resentful and unhappy. He’s three-quarters Indian, Lynda. He wants to be Indian. Caleb understands better than any of us the tortures of living in two worlds.” Sarah felt an odd pain in her chest at the words.
“Cale knows exactly what he wants to be, Lynda. Even if you’re apart physically, the love and honor between the two of you will be so much greater,” Jess told her.
Caleb squeezed her hand. “Jess took the words right out of my mouth.”
“But . . . he’s a part of Lee.” She quickly wiped at more tears, sniffing and meeting her father’s eyes again. “You’d be with him?”
“Every minute.”
“You’ll teach him—about ways not to feel the pain?”
“He’s my grandson, Lynda. You know how much I love him. Do you think I would let him suffer any more than is necessary?”
“And you’ll make him come home after—just for a little while, so I can see for myself he’s all right?”
“Whatever you want.”
Their eyes held, and she realized this was as important to her father as it was to her son. She could not help sensing the secret pride that went with the Sun Dance, and her own Indian blood made her feel some of it herself, in spite of her love and protectiveness making her want to tell her son no. She had to ask herself now what an Indian mother would do, but she already knew without asking. Caleb squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she knew by his eyes what would make her son love her more than he had ever loved her. She sighed deeply, looking at Cale.
“If it is so important to you, and if your grandfather is going to be there, then I suppose you must do it.”
Cale grinned. “Thank you, Mother. I have told all my friends about my mother, that she is more beautiful than any of the women in their villages, and just as strong and wise. Buffalo Boy said you were too white—that you would never let me do this.” He tossed his long hair behind his shoulders. “Now they will see! They will see how brave and honorable I am, and I will be the most important one at the Sun Dance, because my sponsor will be my own grandfather—Blue Hawk! They will all envy me.”
Caleb looked over at Sarah, seeing the hint of fear that she always showed when he had reason to get mixed up with his Cheyenne relatives—the fear that he would ride off with them and never come back. She knew better, yet could never quite get the thought out of her mind.
<
br /> “I didn’t mean for it all to come out this way,” Caleb told her quietly. “Cale spit it all out before I had a chance to talk to anyone.”
She forced a gentle smile. “No matter which way it came out, you would have done it anyway.”
“I don’t like going away, Sarah. But this is important to Cale, and I don’t want him to go there alone.”
The pain moved through her chest again. Cale—their first grandson—so proud and handsome and free-spirited, just like his grandfather.
“This supper I made was supposed to be to celebrate the fact that I’m going to have another baby,” Lynda said quietly. “Things didn’t turn out exactly as I had planned.” She looked at her father. “And I’m sorry I spoiled your plans for California.”
Caleb gave her a smile. “Knowing you’re having another baby means a lot more—to me and Sarah both. And I know what it means to Jess. Besides, with Cale wanting to participate in the Sun Dance, I couldn’t have left anyway. You may be losing your oldest son to the Cheyenne, but I have a feeling that deep inside you’ll be happier knowing Cale is living the life he truly wants to live.”
Just then James came riding up. Sarah caught the mixture of anger and hurt in Caleb’s eyes as he glanced toward the door, then resumed eating as James came inside. The boy hesitated at the door and Sarah looked up at him. “James Sax, where have you been? We’re nearly finished with supper.”
The boy reddened slightly, glancing at his father as though wondering if someone had told on him about something. His eyes moved to Cale, who scowled at him and returned to his food.
“I felt like riding, that’s all,” the boy told Sarah. “May I still eat?”
Sarah looked from her son to Caleb and Cale, feeling the certain tension. She was sure angry words had again been exchanged between James and his father. Sarah knew James’s shame over his Indian blood hurt Caleb deeply, but the man in turn felt somewhat guilty that James had such problems about his own identity, as though it was his fault and so he had no right chastising the boy for his disrespectful behavior.
Destiny's Dawn Page 19