Dance on the Wind

by Brenda Jernigan

  Ellen set Amy on a high stool, then took her seat beside Scott. She watched Thunder suspiciously. However, she remained quiet.

  Brandy placed the food on the table, then introduced the children. “This is Scott, Ellen, and Amy, and I believe you have met the other two, Mary and Billy. They’ll be here shortly.”

  “It is good to meet you.” Thunder set a small stack of hotcakes in front of Amy. “Are you hungry?”

  Amy nodded her head as her chubby little hand reached for the fork. “Silver eyes,” she said, looking up at Thunder.

  “Yes, they are silver, little one.”

  The door banged open, announcing Mary’s en-trance. Her gaze darted to the table. “Good. I don’t have to cook.” She sauntered over and poured a cup of hot coffee, then took her place at the table.

  “Would you like some hotcakes?” Brandy asked.

  “Not if you cooked them” Mary answered sullenly.

  “My, you have such a pleasant disposition,” Brandy said as she sat down at the table with her own plate. “I don’t know how I could make it through the morning without seeing your smiling face.”

  “These flapjacks are good.” Scott stuffed a huge bite in his mouth, then looked at Thunder and smiled. “He’s our guide.” Scott pointed his fork at Thunder, but didn’t wait for her comment as his mind moved back to the food. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Mary.”

  Mary frowned, then sipped her coffee. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Thunder watched the sulking young lady but remained silent. The girl definitely needed her manners improved, he thought.

  “Good morning,” Billy said, yawning as he came through the doorway. “Thunder! What are you doing here?”

  “I am your guide, kid. Hadn’t you heard?”

  “You mean Brandy talked you into helping us?” Billy’s surprise showed on his face.

  “Brandy and the marshal.”

  “Marshal?”

  “It was either agree or hang ... I had a choice.”

  “Great! A prisoner. Just what we need,” Mary muttered.

  Billy chuckled as he sat down, reaching for a jar of honey. “Some choice.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought,” Thunder answered sarcastically. Then he, too, joined them at the table.

  “You don’t like us, Mr. Thunder?” Scott asked. He seemed disappointed.

  “You can call me Thunder. And to be honest, Scott, I don’t know your family, so I will save my judgment until later.”

  Scott seemed satisfied with Thunder’s reply. “You’ll like us.” Scott grinned. “Especially me.”

  “Somehow, I don’t doubt that,” Thunder said matter-of-factly.

  Billy poured honey over his hotcakes. “But why are you here? I thought you were staying at the wagon train with Ward.”

  “The marshal released me on the condition that I remain at the parsonage until the wagons pull out.” Thunder took a bite of food, but felt his irritation returning. “While we’re on the subject of the wagon train, let’s set down a few rules. Since I will be responsible for all of you, my orders will be obeyed. When I tell you to do something, there will be no questions asked.”

  “Why?” Mary challenged him right away.

  Thunder wasn’t surprised at her reaction, but he chose not to answer her immediately. He shot her a silver glare that promptly silenced her. “Your lives may one day depend on all of you following my instructions.”

  “What are the rules?” Brandy asked. She wouldn’t dare argue. She was glad to get the responsibility off her shoulders.

  Thunder leaned back in his chair. “This journey isn’t going to be easy. You must do your share. We leave in two days. Today, I want each of you to decide what personal items you want to take. Then we can begin loading the wagon. Any questions?”

  “Are you the one who will protect us from the Indians?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes, I will protect you. But it might not always be Indians you need protection from; after all, I am an Indian, too.”

  Ellen’s eyes grew wide with fright. She rose so quickly, her chair fell over. She fled from the room.

  “Wait! ” Brandy yelled and tried to grab Ellen’s arm as she ran past.

  Thunder looked to Brandy for an explanation. What had he said that was so bad?

  Brandy faced Thunder. “A war party killed her parents,” she told him “You couldn’t have known. I’ll go and talk to her.”

  “No!” He held up his hand. “I will go.” Thunder stood and looked at the boys. “Billy, Scott, don’t forget to feed the animals. I shall see the rest of you at the wagon.”

  When Thunder reached Ellen’s room, the knob turned and the door opened easily.

  “Don’t hurt me!” Ellen screamed as she scurried to the comer of her room. “Just go away!” She raised her arms to cover her face.

  “What makes you think I would harm you, Ellen?” Thunder said smoothly as he eased into the room. He left the door wide open to calm her fears.

  “Indians are bad! They hurt people, and they killed my parents!” she sobbed.

  Thunder noticed a chair beside the door and sat. He realized he’d be less intimidating if he weren’t looming over the frightened child. He was used to the prejudice from men, not children.

  “I am sorry your parents were killed, little one,” he said softly. “Life is not always easy. Unfortunately, you’ll find bad people in every race, so do not judge all by just a few.”

  Ellen’s eyes were haunted with fear, and she clutched her doll to her chest.

  “If Billy took your doll, would you blame Scott and Mary, too? Do you think that would be fair?”

  Ellen said nothing, but shook her head. She continued to stare with her huge eyes, still very wary of him.

  Thunder hated to see terror in any child’s eyes. “My mother was white, and her life was saved by Indians,” Thunder continued. “They took her into their family and, eventually, she married my father. I was a product of that union.

  “If mankind could be measured by loyalty, courage, and their love of family, they would all be Cheyenne,”

  Thunder said with pride, wanting very much for the child to understand his people. “Does that sound like the same kind of people you saw? I know a different kind of people than those of which you speak. Yes, they kill, but white men kill Indians, also.” He raised his hands and motioned. “Come here, Ellen. I will not hurt you.”

  Hesitantly, she stood. And for a long moment she stared at the man who held his arms out to her. Confusion flickered across her face as she seemed to think over what he’d just told her. Timidly, she took a step, then stopped. Finally after several minutes she walked over and stood in front of him.

  “Close your eyes,” Thunder said gently. “Touch me.” He gently took Ellen’s trembling hands and placed them on his cheeks. “And tell me what you feel.”

  Slowly, Ellen moved her small hands over his warm face. “I-I feel a nose, e-eyes, forehead, and a strong jaw.”

  “Very good,” he praised. “Now keep your eyes shut and touch your face and describe what your fingers feel.”

  Ellen’s fingertips followed the same direction she’d taken on his features. “I feel a nose, eyes, forehead—I feel the same thing!” Astonishment touched her pale face and her eyes flew open.

  “Precisely. We are made just alike, you and I.” He pointed to himself and then to Ellen. “The difference lies within our minds. True, there are bad red men, but there are also bad white men, and you do not hate all of them.” He took her small hands in his. “I am truly sorry about your parents. Killing is such a terrible waste. Do not blame me or my people. I promise I’ll not cause you harm.”

  Ellen bit her bottom Up as she tried to judge the man in front of her. Finally, a small smile hovered on her lips. She was evidently willing to take a chance. “I’m sorry I misjudged you, Mr. Thunder, but my memories are still painful.”

  “Of course they are, but grow from the pain. Never let it destroy you with
hate,” he said softly as he touched her cheek.

  Ellen smiled. A hint of trust shone in her eyes. And a little of the ice Thunder had built around his heart seemed to melt. If only for a minute.

  * * *

  Brandy sat on her bed and folded the clothes she would take with her. Her mind kept drifting back to Thunder. He intruded on her thoughts more often than she cared to admit, and he most certainly was a complete enigma to her. His appearance was rough and dangerous, yet this morning he had taken over the cooking, and when Ellen had been frightened, he had been the one to calm her.

  Brandy hoped that she hadn’t made a mistake. Ellen was terrified of Indians. Yet, Thunder appeared to have cared what Ellen thought which made Brandy think there was more to the man than he let people see. But she shouldn’t be sitting here daydreaming about him. He was their guide, nothing more. Nor could he ever be.

  Brandy’s belongings were few, and her packing was accomplished in no time as she folded and packed her dresses in the trunk. The only thing she owned was a small, brown trunk with a “B” carved in the top. It was her only link with her past. A few articles of children’s clothing had been the only items in the trunk except for a beautiful quilted blanket of blue-and-white patched squares. In the very center of the quilt was a larger white square with the initial “B” sewn in. She assumed the “B” stood for Brandy.

  Curious to see how the others were doing, she hurried outside. Thunder and Billy were busily stocking the wagon as they lifted barrels of cornmeal and flour and tied them to the sides of the wagon. Stacks of boxes along with hammers, saws, nails, string, and rifles were strewn everywhere.

  “How is Ellen?” Brandy asked as she approached.

  “Ellen is fine,” Thunder said shortly. He did not pause at all while he worked.

  “You mean, she talked to you?” Brandy found it hard to believe Ellen had opened up to a stranger. She had never talked to Brandy about her fears, but then Brandy remembered, shamefully, that she’d probably never given the child a chance.

  “She talked,” Thunder answered in his solemn tone.

  “And she isn’t afraid?”

  “She’s still scared, but not like before,” he said as he stacked crates. He acted as if she were bothering him. “Are you packed?” he asked before climbing up on the wagon.

  Brandy was still astonished at how easily he’d handled the situation with Ellen, so it took a few moments for Thunder’s question to register with her. “Yes, I’m finished. It doesn’t take long when you have so little.”

  “Then how about giving us a hand up here.” Thunder offered his hand, and Brandy accepted his help into the wagon.

  Once inside, she saw how everything was beginning to shape up. A small bed had been built behind the driver’s seat for Amy. There were two cots made into the side of the wagon that lifted to reveal storage space for sheets and blankets. A hook dangled in the very middle where a lantern could be hung to provide light at night.

  Brandy busied herself folding sheets and quilts, and then she stored their clothes. When Mary and Ellen showed up they were quickly put to work packing bacon and eggs in the barrels of cornmeal for preservation. Scott busied himself filling the water barrels, and Amy played and ran around the courtyard.

  Brandy paused. She watched everyone busy at their tasks. For once in their lives, they were all pulling together. And for a brief second, she felt like she had a family. Laughing at such a silly thought, she continued her packing. What a crazy notion! She didn’t want to be responsible for these children. She shook her head. The smoke from this morning must have gotten to her senses.

  The rest of the day, they worked hard, taking little time to talk. Of course, grumbling could be heard from all sections. But everyone did as Thunder instructed.

  Brandy decided to take a break, so she sat on one of the beds in the back of the wagon to rest a minute. Mary, Ellen, and Amy had gone to their room to take a nap. Brandy could see Thunder through the back. It was amazing how much calmer she felt just having him around. He wasn’t bad to look at, either, she thought and immediately felt her cheeks warm.

  His black hair glistened in the sun. He was tall and muscular, and she could see how most men would hesitate to cross him. She’d seen firsthand what could happen when some fool did. She could tell by the way he handled the children that he was a natural leader, and it made her wonder what his life had been like before coming to Independence. Maybe one day he would open up a little and tell her something of himself, but she couldn’t see that happening anytime soon. He was still very angry about being tricked into helping them.

  * * *

  Later in the afternoon, Thunder checked the rifles and their supply of gunpowder. He hoped there would be no need to use the guns, but that was an unlikely hope. As one man, he could provide little protection for his ... Brandy’s family. “Billy, have you ever shot a rifle before?”

  Billy looked up from what he was doing. “A few times.”

  “I think you and Brandy should practice. There may come a time we’ll need every man.”

  Billy nodded. “Reckon I never thought about that possibility, but you’re probably right.”

  “Let’s go out back,” Thunder said. He propped the rifle on his shoulder and went over to the wagon, where he stuck his head inside. “Come on, Brandy.”

  “I heard what you said, but I don’t want to shoot that thing,” she protested, and didn’t bother to move.

  “And who will protect you if Billy or myself are not near?” Thunder reached up to pull her out of the wagon. “Tomorrow you will learn to drive the prairie schooner as well.”

  Brandy didn’t resist. She sensed it wouldn’t do much good anyway. “Why? Billy will be driving the wagon.”

  “And what will you do if he becomes sick or dies?”

  “Don’t say that,” Brandy snapped. Thunder placed both hands on her shoulders. “You’re the one who wanted to make this trip. You’d better face reality. You are going to be doing many things you’ve never done before.”

  Brandy clamped her mouth shut as her stubborn streak took hold Was he going to point out that fact at every given moment? She lacked a choice in making this trip!

  She jerked away from him. Right this very moment, if Thunder were a target, she’d have no trouble hitting her mark!

  Behind the cookhouse, Thunder set up a few glass bottles, then took his place beside his two charges. He still couldn’t believe he’d been roped into helping this family. “You first, Billy. We’ll start with the handgun since it’s the easiest to use.”

  Billy handled the Colt awkwardly. Slowly, he raised the gun and aimed. He fired twice before hitting a bottle on the third try.

  “Not bad kid” Thunder patted Billy on the shoulder. “It’ll take a little practice, but we’ll keep working on it. Give the gun to Brandy.”

  The metal felt cold and strange in Brandy’s hand but she was still angry and didn’t hesitate as she lifted and fired doing little more than pointing at the bottle. Bull’s-eye. The glass shattered on the first try.

  “Horsefeathers! I wouldn’t believe it if I’d not seen it with my own eyes!” Billy shouted what Thunder had been thinking. “It had to be a lucky shot” Her arrogant smile told them she was feeling quite superior.

  Brandy was a little surprised herself, but she wouldn’t let them know that. Again she lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. Another dead hit. “This is easy,” she boasted and finally smiled at their dumb expressions. Maybe she had finally found what she could do well.

  Thunder stared at her in complete surprise. “You seem to have a natural aim. Do you suppose your ability is the same with all guns?”

  Brandy shrugged. “How should I know?”

  “There is one way to find out. Try the rifle.”

  Brandy found the rifle heavy and awkward to hold when she tried to position the butt against her shoulder.

  “Here, let me help you.” Thunder stood behind her, and he placed her left hand with
his under the barrel and the butt against her shoulder. “Take aim,” he whispered very close to her ear. “Squeeze the trigger, slowly.”

  Brandy became acutely aware of Thunder’s arms around her. His rugged, manly smell made her knees weak, and when he spoke, his breath was a warm caress on her neck. She turned to say something to him and her lips brushed his cheek, causing them both to jump. She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

  Evidently Thunder didn’t feel the same. He displayed no feelings as he repositioned himself and whispered, “Squeeze the trigger.”

  The explosion threw Brandy back, and she would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Thunder holding her. “Ouch!” she exclaimed. Her ears rang from the noise and her shoulder throbbed. She wanted no part of the rifle. “I’ll stick with the handgun.”

  Thunder’s gaze riveted on her face, then moved slowly over her body. He wanted to think he was just checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

  His unexpected reaction to her when she’d been in his arms had startled him. His body was still reeling from the impact of touching her in such an intimate way.

  He was sure her shoulder would be bruised by tomorrow. “I think you’ve had enough for today. I will work with Billy a while longer.” He watched as she walked away. She was like no woman he’d ever met before.

  And that could be real dangerous.

  * * *

  That night, dinner was a feast.

  Ward had brought Thunder’s gear, as promised, and he also furnished steaks for the whole crew. After checking around town and asking questions, Ward figured it had been a while since they had had a good meal. He’d found out that Brandy hadn’t exaggerated the desperation of her family. Tonight, he heard no complaints about the spread.

  After dinner, Ward and Thunder strolled out into the courtyard to talk away from Brandy’s curious eyes.

  “Let me see what the lady got herself for a wagon. I hope nobody took advantage of her,” Ward said. “I find it hard to believe she was able to get a prairie schooner on such short notice,” he commented, not expecting an answer. “Of course, who could refuse her?”