“Good morning,” she said, when he came back from the sparse bushes.
“Good morning,” he replied, trying to hide the blush that he knew was rising. “Would you like me to hold your little one while you…” he canted his head to the bushes he had just come from, the only ones that afforded any privacy.
“Thanks,” she said, and gave him the dark-haired infant whose bright brown eyes twinkled with curiosity. “His name’s Shooting Star,” she said, then headed away.
“He got his name early, because a shooting star passed by just as he came out of Mama,” Big Sister explained. “Baby Brother and I have to wait to get our names,” she said, with sadness in her voice. “And I think Later is going to keep that name. It’s the only one his father, my uncle, had a chance to give him.”
“Oh. Let’s see…” Little Bear leaned forward and tapped his lips as he paused to consider names. He pulled his shoulders back and said with conviction, “I think you should be The Brave One. You’ve been a big help to your Mama and Rachel, and I’ll bet there’ve been lots of times that you took care of others when there wasn’t an adult around.”
Big Sister smiled and nodded. She had been the only one to take care of Baby Brother after their first mother died and before Rachel came to their camp. She was also the only one who would go near her mother when she was ill with the red belly sickness. She never got the measles, but even if she knew that she was going to get them, she still would have been there to give her first mother comfort.
“I think that’s a good name, The Brave One,” Morning Star said, as she walked over to Little Bear. She took her son and added, “But she should have the name of an animal or of one of the planets or stars.” She looked up at Little Bear, smiled broadly, and then turned to the girl. “How about She Bear, do you like that?” she asked Big Sister.
Little Bear blanched. He couldn’t deny that it would be an appropriate name for the brave little girl. But, it was also honoring him: she was almost being named after him.
“I think She Bear is a great name,” Rachel said, offering her opinion as she scooted Full Moon to her breast with one hand, grabbed Baby Brother’s foot with the other, and blocked Later’s exploration attempt with her knee.
“Anyone opposed to the name?” Morning Star asked, enjoying her smile. It felt so good to have a happy thought. Yesterday, it didn’t look as if she’d ever have another one. “Okay then, She Bear, you will always be the big sister, but now you have a name, too. Now, would you take the boys over there for their toilet? Maybe your brother will get a name soon, but for right now, Baby Brother’s going to have to do.”
Ж
It looked like another night without a fire. Little Bear said he could build a small one, but they all agreed that it would be safer not to have one at all. The day had been sunny, but later in the afternoon, clouds drifted in. Although it was evening, the sky was still bright; it looked like it was going to snow.
She Bear made up the beds after a meager dinner of Little Bear’s special pemmican. The women had never tasted that kind before—it had dried currants in it and was sweet. “It’s a little celebration treat for your new name,” he told She Bear. “We can have a bigger, better feast after we find our new home.”
He sighed. A home for all of them. How was this going to work? It didn’t matter how, and he knew he shouldn’t worry about it. The Lord got them this far; He was sure to give them a safe place to live when the time and place was right. Little Bear just hoped that he wouldn’t have to wander aimlessly in the woods for forty years—or even forty days and nights—until they found their home. He’d be happy if their search was only four days and nights.
Ж
The next day, the extended family unit came to a fork in the deer trail. The high side looked rocky, but their ponies and mules were sure-footed and could handle it. The lower trail looked easier to navigate. He’d take the steeper route and hope that anyone who would—could—possibly be trailing them would take the flatter and wider path. He grinned. Yes, the mercenary soldiers would most likely take the easy way out.
Four babies, three females, two Indian ponies, two mules, and a Scots doctor who lived like a bachelor Indian trapper trekked silently through the woods. Each female took a baby or two as Little Bear strung the four-legged creatures together, leading the group on foot over the stony path. Halfway down the nearly invisible trail, Morning Star swapped babies with She Bear, letting the younger girl carry the lighter baby. No one spoke the entire time, all of their concentration and energy focused on avoiding the slippery slate rock that littered the sometimes precipitous path.
After three hours of tense hiking, Little Bear called the group to a halt. “I’m going to walk up ahead. I’m sure—well, pretty sure—that there’s a place for us on the other side of this hill. There’s no use in all of us going, though, if there isn’t a spot wide enough for the mules to get through, much less turn around. Stay with the animals. I’ll be quick.”
“I don’t care how long you take,” Morning Star said, “you be careful. You’re…well, just be careful.”
Little Bear didn’t have to hear the words; he had seen it in her eyes. He was special to her, and not in a fatherly way. He was older than she was, but not by much. The warmth of her unspoken words tickled his insides as he scaled the steep rise. He was glad she was an Indian now. When the time was right, he’d ask her to be his wife. He wouldn’t need a priest or preacher to marry her the Indian way. They could be discreet with the others around, or even build their own little home. Rachel and her children could have their own place and their own fire. He squirmed as he walked, thinking about the idyllic possibility, nearly losing his footing as his mind wandered. “Not now,” he said to himself. He’d save his thoughts of marriage until he had a home to offer her.
He reached the summit an hour later. He had made good time. If he had brought the animals, it would have taken three times as long. He stood on a flat rock at the peak of the hill and surveyed the area, looking for campfires or other traces of men. As far as his eyes could see, there was nothing, not even that blotch of inhumanity: the soldiers’ camp.
Just a short way down from where he stood was a wide open area where he could erect a home. Or two. A creek started further up the valley. There was sure to be plenty of good trapping nearby. He saw two foxes scurrying across the open area. Good trapping at his front doorstep, too.
And then he saw it: the direct and easy path to where he was now. He would go back to the women and children via the shorter route, making sure the slope wasn’t too steep for the mules and ponies. They could be in place before nightfall and have a fire. No one was nearby, and that’s how he liked it.
He returned to the women and children on their blind side, a few yards away from where he had departed. They didn’t hear or see him approach; they were focused on the trail he had disappeared down, waiting, watching for his return.
“I found a shorter route that we can take,” he said, startling the women and getting quite a squeak out of Morning Star. “This way’s easier and wider. If you’re ready to go, we can be there in time to build a fire for a proper supper and celebration.”
The women’s answer was to pass babies back and forth, as they mounted their sure-footed steeds. Little Bear put his hand down and helped She Bear settle down in front of him. “Let’s go,” he said, biting off the word daughter that had tried to make its way out of his mouth. Close enough, he thought, close enough.
Ж
Dinner practically served itself. As the women were setting up the blankets and gathering wood, a rabbit appeared and stood up to see what the commotion was. Little Bear reached into his saddlebag, pulled out his bolo, and threw it, stunning the animal and knocking it to the ground. He brought the rabbit back to Morning Star, presented it to her, then walked to his pantry on mule-back and pulled out a turnip, a pot, and a short knife. “Rabbit stew?” he asked.
“Rabbit stew,” she answered and accepted the kitchenware
and foodstuffs.
Ж
They settled down comfortably after dinner, tired but everyone with a full belly. The low glow and warmth of the campfire was an extra source of comfort to them: they could sleep tonight without fear.
Morning Star took over setting up the bedroom accommodations from She Bear. “I’m going to sleep with Little Bear tonight,” she told her stepdaughter softly. “Will you keep the babies safe and bring me Shooting Star if he’s hungry?”
She Bear nodded and smiled. “Is he going to be my father now?” she asked hopefully. She really liked the gentle man. He could never replace her first father but, just as Morning Star was her new mother, she could love him as a parent, too.
“I hope so,” Morning Star answered truthfully.
She knew he liked her—their close sleeping proximity the past two nights had made it evident. She didn’t wake him from his squirming, thrusting dreams. She enjoyed them, too. She wanted to turn to him at those times, the times when he was asleep and not guarded, but that wouldn’t have been fair to him. He didn’t know what he was doing, although a couple of times he had awakened right at the end. She pretended to be asleep every time. Yes, he was a good provider, and would make a good husband, father, and lover.
Little Bear stayed away from the group while the beds were being set up. This time, Morning Star was arranging the blankets and putting his off to the side. Yes, they had a fire tonight so they wouldn’t have to snuggle together. He sighed at his loss. He really wanted to be with her, but didn’t know how to ask her.
She had lost her husband not even a week before. He didn’t know the appropriate grieving period and didn’t want to insult her by asking her too soon. And he was a bit timid, too. Maybe next winter would be long enough. Hopefully, he’d be brave enough to ask her by then.
Morning Star sat with her back to the fire, nursing Shooting Star. Little Bear walked up to the fire and stood on the other side of it from her. The others were already covered with blankets, although not necessarily asleep. He heard Rachel telling her son Full Moon to quit biting her; he was teething. She Bear was singing a song to Baby Brother, his squawking getting quieter as her song slowed down. “Ring around the rosey, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes…”
Morning Star stood up and walked over to She Bear, bent over, and handed Shooting Star to her. “Bring him to me if he wakes up and is hungry, all right?” she asked softly, her words too low from Little Bear to hear.
She Bear nodded, took her youngest brother in her arms, and snuggled him between her, Baby Brother, and Later. It felt so good to have a warm fire, a full belly, and a man to watch over them. Life was good again. And now her first mother had her father up in heaven with her.
Morning Star slowly walked away from her children to Little Bear’s bed. He was still standing by the fire, poking the embers to make sure the fire burned low through the night and didn’t flare up and burn itself out. He watched her as she lifted his blanket aside, pulled off her dress, climbed in, and covered herself up. Gulp. She was ready. He wouldn’t have to wait a year.
He walked to the bed, turning one last time to see if he was being watched by the others. Rachel was snoring softly and She Bear was stifling a giggle. She knew what was going on and was evidently fine with it or she’d be crying. He bent over, took off his moccasins, and pulled his shirt off over his head. He knelt next to the bedding and performed his last act as a single man: untied the knot of his breechclout belt.
Even though he had just been out in the cold, his body was hot; only his chest was chilly. Morning Star snuggled close and rubbed her hands all over his shoulders, down the outside of his arms, feeling his strength, smelling his musk. She dipped her head and rubbed her face into his collar bone, hoping that he’d start touching her. She was aching all over. And it wasn’t from the long ride. She wanted him to caress her like her husband had. She missed Number Two, but knew that he was gone. He had taken her as his wife just days after his first wife had died; she was sure that he’d want her to do the same. He had said once that the hole in his heart had been filled quickly and fully by her. Hopefully, Little Bear could do the same for her.
Little Bear was having a hard time keeping his hands from her. He enjoyed her gentle strokes, the soft, warm hands on his upper body. He wasn’t sure what he should do next. He knew ‘what’ to do; he was trained as a doctor and even had a woman once when he and his classmates had gone to the whorehouse. He was drunk at the time and didn’t remember too much. He did remember the row afterwards and the loss of his best friend, knifed by a jealous customer. The woman was a whore and anyone could buy her, but the old lawyer thought that she was his and made sure Jedediah never came back to her, stabbing him in the stomach until he bled out. He shook his head; not the right kind of thought to be having at a time like this.
Morning Star saw Little Bear shake his head. Maybe she was wrong; maybe he didn’t want to be with her. “Don’t you want me?” she asked sadly, embarrassed at her brazenness.
“Uh, yes, very much yes,” he answered and put his hand on her hip. He suddenly realized that she must have thought that when he was shaking his head to clear it of the bad thoughts, that he was telling her no. “That is, if you’ll have me,” he added. “I don’t have much to offer, not even a home, but I’ll not let you starve, and I’ll do my best to keep you warm and safe.”
“What more could any woman ask,” she said, holding back the words, ‘except to be loved.’
“And I’ll love you, too,” he added, then brought his hand to the side of her face and touched her gently. He leaned close to her, smelled her neck, and then buried his whole face in the nook between her jaw and collarbone—a place that seemed made just for a man’s snuggles and kisses. He wasn’t used to kissing. Shoot, he’d never kissed a woman; practicing on the back of his hand as a teenager didn’t count. He rubbed his nose against the soft skin of her neck and realized that the kissing was coming naturally. His lips were touching her, moving by themselves toward her mouth.
Morning Star was having a hard time containing herself. She remembered how slow and gentle Number Two had been on their first night. She was eager then, too. But this was different. She could tell Little Bear hadn’t been with a woman lately, if ever at all. He was a good man and probably wouldn’t mind if she guided him. After all, if they were to be married—and by the feel of his swollen manhood, that would definitely happen tonight—then they would have many more nights together where he could lead the way to pleasure.
She turned her head so her mouth was on his. His lips were tense; he was scared. She left her mouth closed and relaxed her lips, letting his follow suit. Her hand drifted down the outside of his arm to his hip, gently sweeping around his back to grasp his buttocks. He instinctively pushed himself closer, his mouth hearing the call of urgency that his loins were screaming. She reached back around and guided his hand to her breast. Her son had drained her, but she knew that she was never totally empty. She wanted him there, too. She arched her back at the same time as she pushed his head toward her chest.
“Please,” she whispered, not wanting to beg, but knowing that she’d have to guide him for their first night, their wedding night, together.
Little Bear felt her hand urging him to her breast. Did she want to suckle him? Was that what husbands and wives did? He shook his head, then bent sideways to take her nipple in his mouth. To hell with what he had read or what he thought. She knew what to do, and if he shut down his brain and listened to his body, he was sure to do the right thing.
Oh, no! Morning Star feared. No, wait… momentary panic averted. He shook his head when she urged him to suckle her: he didn’t want to. No, it must have been something else because he immediately followed her directions. “Oh, my,” escaped her lips as he found his target.
“Hmm?” Little Bear questioned with his mouth full of nipple. Now that he had it in his mouth, he didn’t want to let it go, at least not yet. The milk that was coming from her breast was so
sweet and the feel of them joining, at least there, was a good start at letting go of his inhibitions.
“I’m fine, but…” Morning Star lost her words as he let go of her nipple and crossed to her other breast and resumed his suckling. “Oh, my,” she repeated then giggled.
“Am I doing it right?” he asked, embarrassed at his insecurity.
“Uh huh, but, when you’re ready, I mean, when you want, you can climb on top of me. We can do it more than once.”
Little Bear rubbed his hips against hers, pressing his firmness against her, letting her know wordlessly that he was ready. He rolled on top of her, then remembered his gaffe with the prostitute. “Use yer elbows, dolt!” she had screeched. “Yer crushin’ the wind outta me!”
He put his hands on the ground and lifted up away from her. There was enough glow from the firelight that he could see her body under his. “You’re beautiful,” he said, and bent his face to hers, giving her a full-mouthed kiss that seemed so right to share. Morning Star wiggled her bottom under his, urging him to continue with the penetration.
“Now?” he asked, hoping that she’d say yes.
“Yes, yes, now, now,” she squeaked, then reached in between their bellies, grabbed his cock, and placed it between her legs. “Whoa!” she exclaimed. “You’re huge!”
“Is that bad?” he asked, and started to pull away—or at least thought that maybe he should. Now that he was almost inside her, he wanted to continue. He was using intense concentration skills to keep from thrusting all the way into her: his mating instincts were definitely active.
“No, no, go ahead,” she said, pulling his hips towards her. “You’ll fit just fine.”
Ж
Morning Star was radiant the next morning, her wedding night glow only exceeded by the grin that Little Bear wore. He tried to suppress it every time he realized it was there, but there was nothing he could do. Well, not nothing; he could probably think about something sad, but he didn’t want to do that, not today, not ever!
Little Bear and the Ladies Page 5
