A Find Through Time

by Marianne Petit

  “Thanks.” She took the soap, leaned forward, flipped her hair into the water and lathered. It had never entered her thoughts that Two Moons could be married. Would his wife hate her? Would she take her anger out on her? Where had she been hiding all these days?

  Gabrielle scrubbed hard. The gritty bar of ash, salt and grease hardly made for a sudsy head and she wasn't sure if the greasy smell made her hair clean or made it smell like fried hamburgers, but at least it was better than using sand.

  “I understand you do not get much sleep.” Chahanpi chuckled. Gabrielle scooped a handful of water over her head and rinsed out the lather.

  “Well, it’s just that I'm used to sleeping in a bed.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  Gabrielle nodded. Her long hair whipped her shoulders as she flung her head backward. “Yeah. What other reason would there be?”

  “Oh, I don't know.” Chahanpi grinned. “If I had a strong, handsome warrior like Two Moons lying next to me all night, I doubt the dream maker would find me sleeping.”

  “Oh, don't be ridiculous. I hardly even notice him, let alone dream of him.”

  “You wear no protective rope. So you are not a stranger to the ways of men. I think you tell me small lies when you say you hardly notice him.” Chahanpi giggled and splashed water in Gabrielle's face before she disappeared under the surface.

  Gabrielle wiped her face as Chahanpi resurfaced. Then it dawned on her. Her eyes widened. “No.” She gasped. “I mean he took it off. I had one.” She groaned, embarrassed.

  “Then you and Two Moons-”

  “No. We never-Good God, No!” Gabrielle stood and hurried out of the water to find her clothing.

  Chahanpi followed her. “Then it must have been to tell the others.”

  With a yank, Gabrielle pulled the dress down over her head, struggling and wiggling as the leather stuck to her wet body.

  “Tell them what?” She popped her head through the neckline.

  “That you are his woman.” Chahanpi's luminous eyes shone full of questions.

  “His what? I'm nobody's woman.” Indignation and annoyance flushed Gabrielle’s cheeks. “We've done nothing. That son of a…” She turned with a start, smothering a groan. “That's why he took it off. I just thought -- that no good son of a bitch,” she mumbled under her breath. It was bad enough they all thought she and Two Moons slept together; but what really pissed her off was that for a damned moment, when his dark eyes had softened and his voice had dropped to a breath of a whisper, she had wanted him to.

  “I'm sorry that I have caused your anger. I did not mean-”

  Gabrielle shook her head. “I'm not angry at you. It's Two Moons, that's gonna get a piece of my mind. I swear when I get a hold of him I'll break his thick neck!”

  A look of horror crossed Chahanpi's face. “Please-” Her voice cracked softly. “Do not do such a foolish thing.” Chahanpi touched her arm. “I fear if harm comes to Two Moons, you will be in grave danger. It is not a wise thing you wish to do.”

  Gabrielle halted her steps and laughed. “I'm not going to hurt him. Like I could. Breaking his neck, it's just something you say when you're angry. I'm going to tell him how I feel. Really, that's all. Don't take it so literally.”

  Chahanpi shook her head slowly. “Then it would be wiser if you were angry at me.”

  Gabrielle lifted her chin. “I'm not afraid of him.”

  All morning, Gabrielle stewed over her embarrassing discussion with Chahanpi. Everywhere she went, it seemed as if the women were talking about her. There was no escaping their stares and whispers.

  A tepee more colorful than the others caught her attention. Walking over she stopped beside it and ran her finger over the various muted green, brown and blue paint that outlined the grass, depicted the rivers and the sky. Black. Gray and brown wolves of all sizes were drawn around the middle.

  Intrigued by the ostentatious nature of this home compared to the rest of the village, she couldn't resist taking a peek through the unlaced opening. The interior was very similar to Two Moons' home, except unlike his tepee where everything was neatly arranged, someone cluttered this place to the hilt.

  “Come.”

  The voice from inside startled her. She flinched.

  “Come in.”

  She took a hesitant step through the opening, then regretted her foolishness.

  The man who stood before her had the face of an unfinished sculpture-sharp, angular, with cheekbones that were too pronounced and a wide nose that looked as though it had been broken once too often. His appearance, though small in stature, was compensated by his muscular body. She recognized him as the same man who had argued with Two Moons, her first day in camp.

  “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” What a jerk she was. No one here could be trusted. She should never have let her guard down.

  Seductively he scanned her body.

  “Forgive me. I’m intruding.” She turned to leave.

  Roughly, he spun her around. “No. You will stay.”

  Gabrielle wrenched her body away. “No. I think not.”

  He pulled her tighter.

  She shoved her hands between them and pushed. “You disgusting pig. Let me go.”

  His solid hold wouldn’t budge. He pulled her tighter. “You dare to speak to me with such disrespect?” He reached behind and yanked on her hair.

  She winced.

  “I, Little Wolf, will teach you to respect me. Perhaps you will not be so high and mighty when you feel me between your legs.” His grip pinched her arm.

  She tried to break free.

  “It will be such a good ride.” He ground the word between crooked teeth, then grinned. “I will ride you harder and faster than he ever could. You will go back and Two Moons' arms will no longer be enough. From now on, I will be in your dreams.”

  He rubbed his body up and down the length of her. She could feel his hard erection. He jerked her dress up.

  “Let her go, or you will answer to me.” Two Moons stepped through the opening.

  All fear for the moment forgotten, Gabrielle stared, dumbfounded. He spoke English! The shock of discovery slammed into her.

  His stare fixed on her, he continued with brutal detachment. “She belongs to me and I wish no man's hands, but my own, upon her.”

  He spoke English. That son of a bitch!

  Little Wolf spun around to face Two Moons, dragging her with him, his unrelenting grip tighter than before. “Your woman was in my lodge,” he jeered with triumph. “She came of her own free spirit. Perhaps you do not please her and she seeks another's pallet to warm.”

  A vein throbbed in Two Moons’ neck. “What she wants, or whom she desires, is not up to her,” he said, his voice controlled, chilly. “She is mine and I shall do with her as I wish. I choose to keep her for my own amusements.”

  Releasing her abruptly, Little Wolf went for the knife at his side. Two Moons, anticipating his move, did the same.

  Gabrielle held her breath, not sure if the knife were meant for her or Two Moons. She edged away from Little Wolf and watched with numbed horror.

  The air thick with tension, both men sized each other up. Sweat dotted Little Wolf's brow as he studied his opponent. A muscle twitched in Two Moons’ cheek as he watched Little Wolf hesitantly slide his foot forward. Two knives, held at shoulder height, were poised to plunge at a given moment.

  Gabrielle's mind raced as fast as her heart. They were fighting over her and it was all her fault. What if Two Moons got hurt or worse, killed? What would happen to her? Where would she go? Who would be her protector against those like Little Wolf, who wished her harm? And more important than that, how could she live with herself knowing once again, she was to blame for somebody’s death.

  Little Wolf, his face taut, his stance tense, dropped his knife at his side. “Now is not the time for this battle between us. But one day…” He raised his knife before him. “When the sun is high in the sky and the Great Spirit deems it
so, we will see which of the two, is the better man. Heceto, so be it, go.”

  He turned and rapped her mid-back, shoving her forward. She tripped into Two Moons' arms. Without a word he caught her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him.

  Although relieved the battle between the two men had come to a halt, Gabrielle, furious Two Moons dragged her away like some Neanderthal cave man who had just won his woman, screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Let go of me, damn it.” She stumbled after him. “I'm quite capable of walking on my own!”

  Two Moons shoved her through the opening of his tepee.

  She whirled around to face him seconds before he stepped through the opening.

  “And what are you so mad at? I'm the one who should be mad. You speak English. You never told me you spoke English.” Breathless, her chest heaved. “All those times, you never answered me, you pretended not to understand.” God. The things she had said. He had understood every word.

  “I understand you fine. I chose not to speak to you. There was nothing I wanted to say.” His calm voice and steady gaze annoyed the hell out of her.

  “Damn you.” She whirled out to slap him.

  His iron grip locked on her wrist and stopped her before her fingers reached his face. A forbidding shadow crossed his eyes.

  “Why?” She bit down on her lower lip and yanked her hand from his. “Why now?”

  “Because it needed to be done.” His tone, laced with anger, was surprisingly composed.

  “That's it? That’s your explanation? Period? End of discussion?” she asked curtly. “Well, since you understand me, I think it’s cruel and inhuman to hate a child because of something he had no control over. So what if he’s half white. He didn’t choose to be. Here’s a new word for you, prejudice.”

  Two Moons scowled, classed then unclasped his hand.

  Before he had a chance to speak, she continued, “And what about your subtle message to the others? Polygamy may be your belief, but it's certainly not mine. I refuse to be part of your-your harem!” Her voice sounded shrill, even to her ears. “And what about your wife? Certainly she-”

  “Wife? You talk nonsense.” He stared at her, his black eyes as unreadable as a flat slab of stone.

  “It's too late for that I-don't-understand-you look. Of all the no good- What could I have been thinking? I wouldn't sleep with you for all the tea in China!” She clenched her hands at her sides afraid she might be tempted to fly at him again. “How dare you let the others think I'm your woman? How dare you?”

  He cast his hands up in the air. His dark eyes reflected his anger. “I know not of which you speak. I have no wife. It was better when you thought me ignorant of your tongue. Now I must forever listen to your ceaseless prattle. I do not have the desire.” He spun around ready to leave; then hesitating, his hand on the partially opened flap, he turned. “They think you are touched. witkotkoke.” He ran his index finger in small circles by his temple. “Crazy. Why do you make them think you are?”

  She watched as he approached her.

  His somber eyes examined her enigmatically. “I speak to you in the tongue of the white man only to prove to my people that you are not.”

  “I'm not crazy and I resent the fact that you think I am.” He wasn't married? For some unknown reason, that pleased her.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Then tell me why you act as if you know nothing about our ways? Perhaps you prefer the white man's way.” His grip tightened as he brought her closer to his broad chest. His biceps bulged. His firm lips were taut. He expected an answer. And what was she going to say? Gee, sorry, but they didn't offer Tanning 101, or a course on gutting rabbits in college. Or would he rather hear-could it be because I'm not of your century?

  “I'm trying, aren't I?” she answered, aware of his musky scent, so male so sexually stimulating.

  ****

  “You were a many days ride from the fort when I found you.” Two Moons noticed the confusion cross her face. What was she hiding? He was well aware of her mouth, as she chewed her lips nervously. They called to him like a bear to honey. His gaze dropped from her face, to her shoulders, to her breasts. The dress she wore was too small and seductively clung to her body, accenting every curve. Annoyed at his body's weakness, his gaze flew back up to her face. He had come to talk, nothing more, he reminded himself. “Tell me. Had you thought to meet your lover in the woods only to find yourself lost?”

  “No.”

  Two Moons’ brows rose. “Then tell me why it was that I found you?”

  Perhaps the Blue Coats had sent her to find his village so they could send their army to kill his people. A Crow scout would never get past the akicitas, police, but a woman-yes. Perhaps she had been on her way to his village when her horse had thrown her. Once she gathered the knowledge she needed, she could return to the fort and the Blue Coats would know how many braves there were in the village. They would know where his people were.

  Their gazes met. She glanced away, then back at him.

  He brought his finger to her face and ran it slowly across her smooth warm cheek. “I see no disfigurements on your body, so I am right when I say you did not run from an angry mate.”

  “Where I come from, they don't cut up a woman's face for being promiscuous.” She took a deep breath, struggling with her thoughts. “Look. I'm no adulteress and they didn’t kick me out of the fort.”

  “Then what sin banned you from the fort you call your home?”

  They stared at each other through the silence that followed. He wondered if she would be truthful in her word as all red brothers were; or would her tongue be forked like a serpent's and ring false like the white man's word? If she were truly the woman of his vision, then let her prove it by the truth of her words.

  “I don't have a husband.”

  She chose to avoid his question. Hecetu, so be it.

  ****

  Gabrielle couldn't answer him; didn't know what to think. She certainly couldn't tell him why he had found her; didn't know for herself how she came to be here. But she was sure of one thing: He couldn’t just change the conversation and think he was going to walk away from her until she got some answers.

  “Don't you dare turn away from me. I want to know why you cut that damned rope off!” Gabrielle grabbed Two Moons' arm before he had a chance to leave. “If you think that just because you're stronger than me… that-that you can force me… well, you're wrong. I refuse to-”

  “You refuse?” Two Moons' face tightened with strain. He yanked free from her grasp and puffed out his chest, reminding her of an angry bull. His eyes narrowed. All he needed was horns. “You refuse me nothing. I am the warrior. I own you.” His angry words so close to her face and the flash of fury in his piercing eyes, made her cringe. “You do as I say,” he demanded.

  “Witkotkoke.” He shook his head, took an abrupt step backward and dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. He turned to leave.

  “Oh, so we're back to, I'm crazy, are we? I'll show you how crazy I am,” she shrieked. She grabbed a leather bag by her feet, and flung the satchel at him with all her might. With a thud, the bag hit him between his shoulder blades. The look of surprise on his face when he turned to face her would have made her laugh, if she hadn't been so mad.

  Mumbling beneath his breath in Lakota, in words that sounded a lot like swearing, he glared at her. His chest heaved. Before he had a chance to straighten, she hurled another parfleche at him.

  “Foolish woman-” He ducked and brought his arms up as a shield. His head bobbed to one side as she flung a moccasin at him. “Stop, or you will feel my hand upon you,” he ordered.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “When I am through with you, you will wish that you were.” He dodged the other moccasin.

  Empty handed, she glanced around. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him approaching. Quickly she sidestepped him, turned and reached for the pipe bag that hung from a peg beside her.

&nb
sp; “Wait!” He threw his hands out before him. His steps halted. The intensity in his voice made her flinch. “I promise. I will not come any closer. Just do not touch that bag. It is sacred to me.” He dropped his hands to his sides. Outwardly he seemed calmer, but his eyes flashed in a familiar display of warning.

  “If you move, I swear, I'll rub my hands all over this thing.”

  “When you swear, to whose god do you swear-mine, or the white man's God?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “If it is to the white man's God, then I will be forced to break my promise.”

  She hesitated. He took a step forward.

  “Fine. Yours.” She took an arm's length step back, widening the distance between them. “Stay there and don't move,” she warned. “I want an answer and it better be the truth.”

  “My words are never twisted. I will tell you what you wish to hear.”

  Suddenly, oddly uncomfortable, she bit her lower lip, glanced away, then back. He watched her with keenly observant eyes. She was acutely conscious of the way he held himself, straight and tall. Widening his legs, he crossed his arms. His stance emphasized the force of his thighs and the narrowness of his hips. Drawing her gaze to his face, she blushed miserably when she saw the approval in his eyes. Was her attraction to him so evident? Her heart thumped erratically. God. She wanted to die.

  “Why did you… ah…” She clenched her clammy palm and squared her shoulders. Her embarrassment quickly turned to annoyance. “Why did you remove that rope? Did you think to shame me in front of all the others? She marched up to him. “I will not be degraded. Not by you, or anyone else.”

  “It was not my intention to shame you.”

  Momentarily distracted by the way his eyes blazed down into hers, all she could hear was the rapid thumping of her heart.

  “I thought to spare you.” His throaty voice, low and soft confused her.

  His intense gaze made her nervous and hot. “What? Spare me from what? Whom? I don't need your help.” She turned her back on him. He cupped her elbow and abruptly spun her around.