by Rita Hestand
But the way Naomie had spoken of Big Knife was different. She wished she didn't doubt so much.
She'd planned on being true to Big Knife for the rest of her life. Now she was suddenly thrown at a man, she barely knew, and he was kissing her like there was no tomorrow. Still, she had to admit, she'd never been complimented so much either. She enjoyed it.
She had to run away. She could not marry this man! Not that he wasn't a good man, but she didn't love him.
And halfway through the night, she snuck out and took one of the horses, walking it out of the camp so as not to be discovered. The Arapaho camp wasn't that far away. But as she approached the camp, it was very quiet.
She went into her father's tepee and woke him. "Father, how are you my father." She smiled as he woke up.
"Sasha, what are you doing here?"
"I do not belong in their camp. I am so confused."
"He has earned your hand in marriage. Has he mistreated you?"
"No, of course not." Sasha shook her head.
"Then why are you confused, daughter?"
"I do not love him, father."
Her father looked at her. "Sasha you are a chief's daughter and it is more fitting for you to marry Black Wolf than Big Knife."
"But I do not know him."
"The unfamiliar will become familiar in time. You must go back to him and honor him, as he has honored you."
"How can you send me away?" she cried.
Her father looked deeply into her eyes. "It is the law of our people. He challenged Big Knife. He won. Now go and learn his ways and be a good wife. For your marriage will bring a peace between the tribes."
"Even though my heart is here with Big Knife?" she cried.
"That will simmer in time child. Big Knife has not been completely honest with you."
"How can you say that?"
"Because the minute you left. His eyes were on Naomie. And they still are. I think he has deceived us both. For he does not act like he misses you."
"It can't be true. He asked me to wed."
"Open your eyes dear one. Big Knife seeks war against the blue coats. He has tried to raise a tribe of his own already. I no longer trust him. And you should not either."
"But father… "
"Go where you belong now. You are better off with Black Wolf."
"Oh father, how can you say such a thing?"
"It is the truth child. Now go."
Sasha cried, seeing how her father had turned on Big Knife so quickly. She did not understand. And yet, the fact that everyone seemed to know that he favored Naomie made her doubt Big Knife a little. She had planned to marry him. How could she turn away from him so easily now? Surely her father was mistaken.
She walked toward his tepee, but it was dark and obviously Big Knife was asleep. She ached to talk with him and find out if all of this were true.
She walked her horse a ways, then mounted and rode like thunder for the Shoshone camp. If they discovered her gone, she'd become Black Wolf's slave, not his wife.
She could easily have ridden away, but where would she go? She knew one thing instinctively; Black Wolf would protect her, and knowing it, gave her some relief.
She studied on her father's words to her. Big Knife wanted war with the blue coats. She knew that, she had heard him speak to the younger warriors in camp. That was not a good thing, and she had to admit it. She knew he was not satisfied with the peace, but she never thought Big Knife would go against her father. And even her father thought Big Knife loved Naomie.
Did he? Would he marry her now? The thought of the two of them marrying had Sasha doubting her own love for Big Knife. It wasn't that she suddenly quit loving him, but that she doubted him now. Doubt had never been a part of their relationship. And not only Big Knife but Naomie too. Obviously Naomie had left out the part that she was very in love with Big Knife too.
She had to get back before anyone saw her leave. She'd have plenty of time to think about Big Knife and Naomie later.
As she came back to camp, she hobbled her horse and went back inside the tepee. No one seemed awake and she lay down and cried the rest of the night.
What was she going to do now?
Compare Black Wolf had told her. If Big Knife had never kissed her like Black Wolf, what did it mean? She felt so childish and ignorant when it came to love.
She had to think for herself now, but it was hard to imagine Big Knife's loyalties. If he truly wanted war, and her father knew it, then there would be trouble here. And if he truly loved Naomie, where did her own loyalty lie?
Chapter Six
The next morning Sasha got up and helped Little Fawn prepare the meal and afterward Black Wolf came to get her.
"So, what are we going to do today?" She asked him, her enthusiasm brightening as they walked together.
"Today, we are going to get to know each other better. Although it is just one day, it will be filled with knowledge of one another."
She nodded, "How will we accomplish that? I mean, all in one day?"
He smiled into her questioning face. "We will talk, and eat, and spend time together." He encouraged. "We can ask questions and learn from each other."
"Fine," she said trying hard to push the feeling of resignation away. It all seemed rather hopeless to her, but she didn’t argue the point. Her mind was on her father's words and she wondered if she should share what she learned with Black Wolf.
Still she felt as though that would be a betrayal to Big Knife.
Black Wolf picked up a basket from his tepee and they went far away from the camp, on foot to a very pretty waterfall site. The water made beautiful music. There was much wildlife here and vegetation. It reminded her of the garden of Eden in the bible. Was it like this?
He took a blanket and spread it on the ground and invited her to join him.
She sat and waited, trying to forget about last night. It was almost impossible though.
"We, my family have lived in this area most of our lives. I have three sisters and a brother. I will introduce you to my family tomorrow, but today is for us." He explained.
"How big a family do you come from Sasha?"
"I have a brother. He is older and married with three children." She answered, as her mind wandered. "We are very close."
"I met your father, but not your mother." He told her.
"Oh," that brought her attention around. "Well, my mother died many years ago, she caught a white man's sickness, smallpox and died." She hung her head in sadness. "I did my best to save her myself, but the medicine we had could not fight the white man's diseases then."
"Do you miss her?" He asked.
"Yes, very much." She stared at him strangely. "Not many have ever asked me that." She mused aloud. "Are both your parents alive?"
"Yes, they are." He smiled sadly. "And you will meet them soon."
"Do they approve of you marrying a woman from another tribe?" She watched his face for the answer.
"We'll find that out, tomorrow. But it is of no consequence, I am thirty years old and well able to choose my own bride." He chuckled.
"I'm still very curious about that. Why did you choose me?" she asked suddenly looking at him.
He hung his head now, and then looked up at her. "I had looked at every woman in my tribe. Truly," he stared into her innocent face. "I looked into their hearts. But I suppose I knew them too well. I don't know what I was looking for, but when I saw you, and your sassy mouth, I knew you were the one. That and other things."
"What other things?" she asked.
"Perhaps we should leave that for later." He told her.
"I know you don't love me, but I am interested in whether you want children in the future."
"Children? How can you ask me such a thing? You are a stranger to me. How can I answer you?"
"Sweet One, I simply want to know if you have dreams of having your own family or not." He reached for her hand, his thumb rubbing the top of her hand mindlessly. "We will get to know e
ach other in time. But surely you must have thought of having them with Big Knife."
Her head jerked up to look at him. Had she? Had they ever really talked of having children? No they had not. They hadn't planned a thing for their future except Big Knife wanted war. It dawned on her suddenly, that they hadn't talked hardly at all. "Well, yes, I suppose you are right about that. I wanted children, yes. It might sound strange to you, but Big Knife never talked about having them."
"Well, I'm glad you want them. I too would like at least two. And it is a start that we both know this."
"What is your favorite color?" he asked.
"Color?" She almost laughed at that question. Everything he wanted to know surprised her. "Blue, I guess."
He looked up in the sky and nodded, "Yes, it is a good color."
"And yours?"
"I like red." He smiled. "What do you like to eat?"
"Venison cooked in a stew until it's tender." She smiled absently. "And you?"
"The same but cooked over a fire like a beef steak."
She looked at him and couldn't help the smile on her face. "I've never had it that way."
"Then I will cook it for you. Tell me, what do you do with your time, Sasha?"
She took a long breath. None of his questions were what she expected. But it was interesting and enlightening too. "When I'm not healing the sick or injured, I like to weave baskets, and sometimes make jewelry." She blurted out of the blue. "I sometimes would listen to the council of our tribe, as I am eager to learn new things. I like to learn new things, so I try to talk to many different people. I know most of my people well. At least, I thought I did."
"That is good, I too like to learn from others. Tell me about your bad habits?" he asked, still holding her hand.
"Bad habits," she mused. "Now that is a hard one." She laughed. "I talk too much, argue too much, and I have a sweet tooth." She chuckled. "And you?"
"I fret over my decisions for my people. No matter what my decisions are, it will not please everyone. I know this, and it bothers me. Like this peace we have with the blue coats, many of my people don't like it and want to war with them. I do not think war is the answer. It is a constant battle to make them see we are better off not fighting them any longer. Both sides have warred for many years, and there have been many deaths. There comes a time, to put away the wars and seek peace. I figure it will be good for us to learn their ways and I wish they'd learn of ours. But I guess my biggest fault is I'm jealous of others at times."
"Jealous? But you’re a chief, your handsome, and strong and courageous, what have you to be jealous of?"
He stared at her list of compliments. "I thank you for those words, but, nevertheless, I am. Big Knife for one." He let that sink in for a moment. "For I want to take a wife and my wife to be is in love with him. The Sioux for they have more strength and more people. I want to be the best that I can be. And I'm not arrogant, I merely want to be better than I am. And confidence is part of the answer to being better."
He took her hand and kissed it, then smiled, "The truth is, I want you to be happy, Sasha, and I fear I have made you unhappy by asking for you for my wife."
"If you truly feel that way. Why did you ask my father for me?"
Black Knife paced about for a moment. Then looking at her his brow furrowed. "Because," he turned to stare at her. "I need a wife that will challenge me in many ways. One that will speak up and tell me when she thinks I'm wrong about something. You see, the women in my tribe would not speak up against me. For they don't see me as a man, but as a Chief. They cannot see both. I am a man first, a chief next. I want my woman to love me and trust me beyond any other. And I suppose I should have taken one of my own people, but sometimes you can know your own people too well. Can you understand that?"
She studied his words before speaking. "Yes," she said softly, "and sometimes you cannot know them well enough. Sometimes you can be a fool, by thinking you know them, when you don't."
He stared at her now.
When she saw him staring, she changed the subject. "Have you had many women?" She asked softly.
"Yes, many!" he chuckled. "No, only one a long time ago."
"What happened?"
"She died like your mother, of the smallpox. We raided a wagon train back then and brought captives back and one of them was sick and gave the disease to my people. I took that as a lesson from the Creator that taking captives was not a good idea. For my tribe did this many times. I have finally convinced them it is not a good thing."
"I'm sorry, that's so sad."
"We lost many back then. It taught us an important lesson. Taking captives is not always wise. I mourned her three years, and then one day I got up and I made up my mind, she was dead, and I was alive, and life had to go on. I loved her, was going to make her my wife. But I was young and foolish back then. We were too young."
"Where did you get fifteen horses?"
He grinned. "From the dead Sioux."
"Oh." She grinned.
"The white man does not always think to take the horses and weapons of the dead. But the dead have no use for them. So I take them. Horses and guns are valuable to any tribe, so it is wasteful to leave them lie with the dead."
"I suppose in a strange way that makes sense." She chuckled. "But isn't that disrespectful?"
He smiled at her now, relaxed. "When they are alive it is, but once they are dead, all you are respecting is their body. It is wasteful to leave guns and horses for the dead, as they will never use them again. Now, let me ask a question."
"Alright." She looked up at him.
"Where did you learn to be a healer?"
"From my grandfather, he was a Shaman. He taught me so much before he died. We would walk the land and he would point out the healing herbs to use in teas to ease pain and heal the sick. Many things he taught me were very old things that few knew about. As I knew how to write, I wrote them down so I would not forget them."
He smiled.
"How did you get elected as chief?" she queried.
"My father was a chief. When he aged too quickly and could no longer ride, I was to become chief. But I insisted on an election like the white men do. And I won."
She chuckled. "I am not surprised."
"It is good to see you laugh." He said softly.
"Are there many in the tribe who want to be your wife?"
"Sasha," he came closer now, staring into her face with amusement. "Many would be my wife, but only because I am chief, and it would be a great honor. Still, I wanted a woman who thinks for herself. And one who stirs a fire in me. Like any man I want a wife that will love me, someday at least."
"A fire?" she repeated staring at him now.
"Much like the one you stirred when I kissed you."
She sat up straight now, "We should be getting back now, don't you think?"
The way he looked at her made her heart pound and sent little butterflies to her belly. Why did she have this reaction to him? It both puzzled and scared her.
"Are you afraid of me?" He asked.
"No, maybe I should be, but I'm not."
"I like you Sasha, and maybe in time you can learn to like me a little."
"Maybe." She whispered. "but I have learned that making a hasty judgement is not wise."
"Then," he took her hand and pulled her. "Take your time and get to know me."
That evening he kissed her again, and she responded once more. Strangely, she knew he would kiss her, but she didn't know she would like each kiss a bit more. It was a strange rapture that wrapped around her heart and made it sound like a drum.
What disturbed her was that every time he took her lips, she swooned and melted into his arms, as though that is where she belonged. She didn't understand that. For surely, she belonged with her own people.
Chapter Seven
The next day, she met his family. His parents greeted her with open arms, as though they'd known her all their lives. They were obviously in their fifties as b
oth had some graying hair. His father seemed to be crippled, as he walked with a gait and was always reaching for his back and his mother was a spry lady with a good attitude. His sisters and brother eyed her with much speculation though.
His father was Crow Foot, his mother, Little Hands. She quickly learned that they had been married thirty-five years.
"You did not tell us how beautiful she was." His mother said.
"I thought I'd let you decide that." Black Wolf told her.
Of his sisters she liked Sweet Bear best as she was unwed and talked a lot. Washita was married and had a baby. Although she seemed a good mother, she wasn't too pleased that her brother was marrying someone from out of the tribe and said so.
"I am old enough to choose for myself, Washita. Do you not think so?"
"Then why an Arapaho? You have warred with her people many times."
"Yes, but the time of war is over, and she is not a warrior." Black Wolf explained. "Perhaps in time it will help unite our peoples and make us stronger. But Sasha is a healer and will be invaluable to our people."
Cochita stared at her for a long time, "She is very pretty!"
It was obvious Cochita did not care for her either but would not argue with her brother.
But his young brother, Blue Moon studied her for a long time too. "She is a healer?"
"Yes, and she will perform, the Shaman duties with the tribe." Black Wolf told him.
"I say you made a good choice brother. Welcome to our family." He grinned and stuck out a hand. Sasha took it and shook. She liked Blue Moon, he smiled a lot and he seemed easy to get along with.
They ate with them and she got to know his parents a little. His mother was very friendly, but his father did not speak much.
When Black Wolf walked off with his father, the women sat together around the fire and talked.
"I have not seen my son smile so much in a long time." His mother told her. "He must think much of you as he challenged a man he'd never even seen."
"I suppose so. Big Knife is taller than he. But I must admit he was surprised by the challenge. And he lost it, which is rare for him."
