Teach Me Your Love

by Rita Hestand

  "Strangely war is the price you pay for peace."

  Naomi thought about that and slowly nodded, "How did you get so smart."

  "I believe what the bible tells me."

  "You're a very good Christian man." She told him.

  "This war is for a cause, it will cost greatly. The only good that will come is if we learn from it."

  "I agree. But you know, you fight a war every day, a war of who you are. Whether you are Indian or white. And the way some treat you is far from fair."

  "I understand my war. It does not concern me, I have learned to live with it."

  "Why do you call them your people when they look down upon you because you are a breed?" She asked with obvious displeasure. "It does not matter, you are a part of them, and you work so hard to keep this peace for them."

  "My tribe calls me a breed, the white call me a breed. I cannot speak for them. Only for myself. I was born into this tribe, they are my people, my father's people. My father was a councilman of the tribe. But when he took a white slave and made her his wife, the tribe looked down upon him. And me when I was born. It is natural. I know this. I live in two worlds, one is white, one is Indian. I have learned much from both. I have been tested by the braves of my people. I have friends at Camp Tucson that will go to Texas to fight at Fort Davis that I don't want to see die in this great war. No one wants to back down, no matter the numbers. The leaders will decide this war, not the soldiers that fight it. And I fear many, many men will die."

  "I don't think most women can understand war very well. We bring life into the world, and men take it out. But can't one sit on the fence so to speak and ride the war out?"

  "In most cases, no, they cannot. Already there is talk of the Confederates coming this way to get our help. But Cochise I fear will not like them coming onto his land. And that will be another war. A war within a war. It is not good."

  "Cochise again?"

  "A great Apache war chief. He has sought peace before but the white chiefs in Washington have a hard time keeping their word to him. He gets angry."

  "Why do men have to start wars anyway?" she cried. Staring into the fire, she imagined many things happening from him getting involved. She wondered if her family had gotten involved with it. She imagined they did, especially her three older brothers.

  "Because different peoples cannot agree on some things. Men naturally have big egos and much pride."

  "Well, I'm glad Big Hand is going with you. At least you won't be alone. Have you even considered that I might not know if you were killed or not?"

  "You would know."

  "How?"

  "I would not come back." He saw her genuine concern and smiled. "I am glad Big Hand will go with me though. Chosen One was afraid for you too."

  "Why didn't you ask him to, in the first place?" she asked.

  "I wouldn't intentionally put him in the way of trouble." He told her. "He is my closest friend."

  "Let me cut your hair now," she told him as she got to her feet once more and looked at him.

  He nodded.

  She went to get the scissors she used to sew with. He looked at them. "You will use those?" he asked.

  "Yes, it will be much easier to cut with. Now, how short do you want it?"

  "Just around the bottom of my neck. I must get a hat too, that will help."

  "Alright," she began trimming it and the hair fell to the ground.

  "You have a lot of hair," she told him. "I kind of hate to see it go. I liked it."

  "You did?" he turned to look at her.

  "It was beautiful."

  "It will grow."

  "Perhaps but it will make your job easier."

  "I guess you are right about that."

  As she cut, she noticed his hair curled a bit, and she laughed. "Your hair tries to curl. Was you mother curly headed?"

  "Yes, she was. She had long light brown hair, and it curled on the ends."

  "Like yours," she chuckled. "Tell me about her."

  "You want to know about my mother?" he asked turning to look at her.

  "Is that so strange?"

  He nodded, "Yes, it is. No one ever asked me about my mother."

  "Well, I'm curious. What was her name?" Naomi asked finally finding a safe subject to talk about.

  "Her name was Sarah. She was about your age when she first came to our camp."

  "Did your father capture her, or what?"

  "She was the only live captive from a burnout wagon train that my father stumbled upon."

  "Oh my, was that here?"

  "Yes, the train was headed for California." He told her. "When he came upon her, she was sitting in the ruins, crying. He took her, and for several days they were alone. He told the tribe she was his slave, but he courted her. She fell in love with him. They married."

  "How long was she here before they married?" She asked as she continued clipping his hair.

  "A year." He answered.

  "A year?" she seemed startled. "Why so long?"

  "Back then, it took longer for a white woman to become accustomed to our ways. And white women didn't marry Indians much back then. Only a few trappers married Indian maidens. But white women were slaves or killed most of the time, some were raped first. But anyway, back to my mother. My father courted her for six months before the marriage. And she finally agreed."

  "That's very romantic," she told him. "How did he court her?"

  Now Red Elk turned around and looked her in the face. "Why are you so interested."

  "Well, I have nothing to compare relationships with, I was curious." She told him.

  "He played a flute for her." He said loudly.

  She stopped, "A flute… "

  "Yes, a flute… " He cracked a slight smile.

  "Like you play for me?" she asked.

  "Yes, like I play for you."

  She backed away, "Well, that's—sweet."

  "She had a hard time relaxing around him. So, he played the flute."

  "Why do you play the flute for me?" she asked.

  "I wanted you to relax…. And see that even Indians can be pleasant." He told her.

  "It did help me relax," she told him. "I've been with the Indians a long time now, and I know they can be pleasant. I wasn't trying to pry… I just wanted you to share it with me. I never knew how much I liked music until you played the flute. I enjoy it a lot."

  "Share what?"

  "Memories, good memories, things from your past. I've shared a lot to you about John. I wanted to know about you and your past. It's how white people get to know each other better."

  He nodded, "Alright, she was beautiful, she was a good slave, she was lost a lot too, as I remember my father telling me that taking a white woman could be difficult at times. But very much worth the effort."

  "I wish I could have met them."

  "Why?"

  "Because knowing where you came from, would help me understand you better."

  "I see. Then tell me of yours." He demanded.

  "Well, my mother and father were older when they had me. I was the baby of the family. By the time I left, all my brothers and sisters had married and moved away."

  "How long has it been since you've seen them?"

  "About four years."

  "Do you miss them?"

  "I miss my mother at times. My father was an outdoorsman, he was always gone hunting, fishing, or something of that nature. He was a man of few words. He'd tell stories to his men friends when he'd get some ale. They all loved his stories."

  "And your mother?"

  "We used to talk a lot. She taught me how to sew and cook. We'd sit by the fire at night and sew and talk about things. I grew up shelling peas and plucking turkey feathers."

  "What kind of things?"

  "Oh, about my older siblings, how they were getting along, how my sisters both had two children a piece. My oldest brother was very interested in politics, one was a farmer the other worked for the railroad. We'd talk about how her and d
ad met, dad would always leave the room when that subject came up, as though it embarrassed him. But mother always said the sweetest things about him when he left the room, and he missed it. I hope they share more between them in their old age."

  "You were nineteen when you met John?"

  "Yes, living with older parents it was hard to get out and socialize with young people. I had never been courted before."

  "How did you meet him?"

  "A church social. I don't know why he came, he wasn't of the same faith. But the dance was open to everyone in the town. Funny, but he didn't even dance."

  "Were you madly in love with him?" he asked.

  "No," she laughed. "But I was nineteen and he seemed like a very nice young man. My folks were anxious to marry me off, so after he asked them, I accepted."

  "You weren't in love with him?"

  "I don't know." She looked at him strangely now. "I thought I was at the time. I was young and impetuous. A dreamer really."

  "A dreamer, what do you mean."

  "I don't know I had watched my sisters being courted by their fellas and they were so happy. They'd come inside at night and tell me all about their beaus and things they did, things they wanted to do but were afraid to do. It was an exciting time for them. Naturally, I looked forward to the time when I would have a beau too. I remember how they'd sit on the porch with them at night and talk and they waited almost the entire evening before their fellas would even attempt to kiss them. Sometimes, I'd stare out the window at them, and snicker when they kissed. It irritated my sisters at first. It was so long ago, and I'm afraid my courtship was much different."

  "Different?"

  "John only courted me a week, then proposed to me. There was nothing to be giddy about. By the time I grew up I realized that life was not about dreams and hopes, but reality. So, when he came along, and my folks seemed so anxious to get me married off. I said yes, before even thinking about it. But there was little romance, only talking of the future, you know planning things out. He only kissed me once before asking for my hand in marriage. And that…"

  "Was on the cheek…"

  "Yes… " she smiled.

  "Why didn't he give you a ring, isn't that part of the white man custom?"

  "Yes, for most it is. But John thought it…"

  "Sinful… "

  "Yes, materialistic is what he called everything I ever wanted. I realized it was selfish to want such a thing."

  "He took away your dreams, didn't he?"

  She looked at him, then sighed heavily. "I guess he did. I didn't realize it, because it was a long process. When he spoke to my parents, he explained that he had just bought a track of land in Texas and we'd have a home to go to. They were impressed that he would be able to provide for me so well. It was mainly why they gave him permission to marry me. Most young men his age had nothing to offer yet."

  Red Elk got up now and moved about. He ran his hands through his newly cut hair. "It feels funny."

  "You'll get used to it, it looks great."

  "Does it?" he asked staring at her.

  "I like it."

  "You prefer me to look white, rather than Indian?" He asked.

  "No, I mean, even though this is attractive, so was the long hair. This makes you look like a white man, but the long hair made you look… "

  "Look what?" he asked.

  "Handsome as the devil." She chuckled.

  "Thank you…." He smiled.

  "You're welcome." She put the scissors up and went to lay down.

  "I haven't given much thought as to what I would do if you didn't come back." She frowned now. "Now that I think on it, it's kind of scary."

  He moved toward her and took her face between his hands and stared into her tearful eyes. "You are Indian now, you would stay here… " he told her matter-of-factly. "This is your home. This is where you belong. My tribe has accepted you. You are part of them now. You must never leave here. In truth the white world would be cruel to you if you ever tried to go back."

  "I know what you are saying. I've known a couple of girls that were captured and when they brought them back, they were so sad and so misplaced. But if you don't come back, what am I supposed to do, live alone the rest of my life?" she asked.

  He came closer and held her chin, "I will come back." Now he stared seriously into her eyes.

  "Promise me?" She whispered.

  "Promise." He kissed her tenderly on the lips and she swooned. He smiled and brought the blanket over them.

  That night she slept restlessly, and he reached to pull her against him. "I'm sorry, I just can't seem to sleep." She apologized.

  He put an arm around her and whispered. "Do not worry, I will come back."

  "I couldn't bear it if you didn't." she whispered.

  He smiled and held her close all night long for that admission.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A violent electrical storm woke Naomi in the middle of the night and she went to stare out at it. She'd never seen so much lightning. It came from every direction, long streaks that seemed to hit the ground, making the ground vibrate with its power.

  She shuddered.

  The rain came down after a while and she moved back, right into Red Elk's arms.

  He caught her to him and wrapped his arms around her, just under her breasts. She was breathless, her heart was hammering.

  He must hear it.

  "I've never seen such a storm." She tried to relax in his arms, but it was new to her as it was to him.

  "It is getting warm now and these kinds of storms will come more often." He whispered near her ear. "They sound worse than they are, most of the time."

  The soft way he spoke had her heart hammering now.

  His arms around her, made her relax finally, for only in his arms did she feel so secure. She laid her head back against his chest and he kissed her forehead. It was a sweet, soft kiss that lingered a little. She embraced the shared moment. She didn't want to move, it felt too good being in his arms.

  She closed her eyes, saying a short prayer.

  "We had twisters in Texas and Missouri, but never a lightning storm like this." She murmured. "It sounds so powerful."

  "One must not stand out in them." He told her. "It is very dangerous.

  She turned and started back to the blanket to lie down, but suddenly she turned to look at him.

  When he said no more, and didn't look at her she shook her head, "You don't push people do you? Your patient and kind. It's hard to understand sometimes, your reasoning for the things you do. But I'm beginning to understand you and your ways."

  He looked at her now, his eyes going over her slowly. Very slowly, as though enjoying it. She felt her entire body flush from that one glance. It was like a soft touching where his eyes paused and then moved on.

  "Push people, what are you talking about?" His sexy smile warmed her.

  She sighed and hung her head as she spoke. She couldn't look him in the eye and say things like she was about to say. "You didn't push Big Hand to help you, you didn't push Painted Dove away, and you didn't push me when I flirted with you. You are a patient man, very unassuming. So much so a person does not know what to do sometimes, or how to react."

  "My actions or lack of, confuse you?" he asked.

  "Yes," she admitted looking straight into his eyes now. "Most of the time."

  "Let us look at each one and I will explain. It is my biggest wish that you understand me." He began. She waited. "Big Hand offered to help me, he gave me an explanation as to why, I accepted."

  "I can understand that. But it would seem easier and faster if you simply ask him for help, like a good friend or neighbor." She shook her head.

  "Perhaps you are right. But I don't like putting people out. Or in any danger. It will be a dangerous run each time. Still, I must do this. The fact that he offered his help, made me proud he was my friend. But I would never put pressure on someone to help me do what I must do."

  "Well, I guess I und
erstand that then. But you know he would help you, no matter what it was."

  "Yes, I know that. I just don't want to take advantage of that friendship. You understand?"

  "Yes, I think I do."

  "Good. Now Painted Dove, I did not push her away as I did not want to create a scene. I know her well enough to know she would have caused one. The matter was settled, her punishment was banishment, I thought it fair and just. But I was wrong about that. She created an even bigger scene that I did not foresee. Sometimes trying to do right by people, you create a bigger problem with others."

  "I guess that's true."

  "The first time I took Painted Dove I told her I wanted a child. She said she didn't mind. We agreed to have relations, one because she liked having sex, and I wanted a child. We would mutually benefit. But it wasn't because I was deeply in love with her or anything. Can you understand that?"

  "Did you know she slept around then?"

  "I'd heard rumors of it. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Like I said most of the girls like her came to see me, but none of the really good ones."

  "But the day I came home from the gun run, she kissed me. I did not react because I knew her well enough by then to know she'd throw a fit and start the assumptions that I was the father of her child over again. She did not want to leave this camp. She had planned to be married into it before then. She thought I'd marry her. But by then, I knew she slept around, and I did not want that kind of wife. But let me reassure you of one thing. I did not kiss her back. I stood still and waited for her to end her exhibition."

  "Is that the only reason, be honest." She told him.

  "With you, I am honest." He promised. "Always. It is part of what is between us, this honesty."

  "I thank you for that. Alright, go on." She didn't look at him again.

  "She'd been caught by another and Bear Foot was satisfied, it was not my child she carried. It was settled. Had I pushed her away, and insulted her, she would have yelled and screamed it was my child and then it would be up for discussion among my people again. I did not want that. I wanted it settled. I wanted her gone, for good. She has cost me more than I can say. I did not put my arms around her, nor answer her kiss."