Tanya smiled and said something in Cheyenne that made Melissa blush and Suellen shriek in anger. Only Kit’s low growl kept the redhead from leaping on Tanya.
“If it weren’t for that damned cat, I’d scratch your eyes out!”
Tanya replied calmly, “I can always send Kit outside.”
Backing down from the challenge, Suellen answered huffily. “Never mind. Why should I lower myself to your level?”
They ate their supper around the campfire for warmth and Tanya was reminded vividly of her first night with Panther. Once again she sat watching as her friends were raped repeatedly, only this time it was Cheyenne women being violated by white men.
Even Melissa flinched at the abuse she witnessed now. “I don’t know why I should bother feeling sorry for Ugly Otter’s wife, but I do. She was mistreated by Ugly Otter, and now she must endure this as well. I expected to sympathize with some of the others, but not her.”
About this time, Suellen sidled up. “Poetic justice, don’t you think?” she commented on what was happening.
“What a small mind you have, Suellen,” Tanya told her. “You’re about three bricks shy of a full load if you can take any pleasure in this.”
Jeffrey came up just in time to hear Suellen reply cuttingly, “You deserve to be right along side of them! From the very first you were treated differently from the rest of us. While we ran around dirty and ragged and half-beaten to death, you were clean and clothed and pampered like a princess. I’ve always wondered why. What did you do for that bronze buck that caused him to treat you so well?” Her voice rose to a strident level. “What special favors did you give him? You must have done something right, or was it just that you enjoyed having him between your legs? Was that the difference?”
Jeffrey’s face was white and pinched, a muscle jumping wildly along his jawline as he awaited Tanya’s reply.
Her eyes narrow golden slits, nevertheless, she spoke softly, “Your jealousy is showing, Suellen, and green is a very uncomplimentary color on you. It gives your face a ghastly hue.”
“What did she say?” Jeffrey asked.
He was ignored as Melissa jumped into the argument. “Tanya is right, Suellen. You are jealous, pure and simple! None of us asked to be kidnapped that day. Of us all, Tanya had the most to lose, except poor Rosemary. Just because Tanya was luckier than we were; just because Panther was more handsome and kind, doesn’t give you license to malign her. It wasn’t her fault I got stuck with Ugly Otter or you with who you did. She couldn’t help any of it.”
Suellen laughed hatefully, “Oh, really? Well, how is it she got Black Kettle to adopt her and make her a member of the tribe? Why did Panther marry her? She ran around like royalty while the rest of us were treated like slaves!”
“You hateful bitch!” Melissa spat. “Maybe it’s because Tanya worked twice as hard as any of us to learn the language and their ways. What riles you is that Tanya saw a way to improve her lot, and she took it. It’s called survival, Suellen. Sometimes, in order to survive, you adjust, and Tanya did just that!” Melissa came up for breath, and then delivered the final insult. “Which bothers you most, Suellen, the fact that Tanya took the chance to improve her position, or that Panther chose her over you?”
Suellen reacted violently, her hand reaching out to slap Melissa across the face.
Immediately Tanya drew her knife. “No, Tanya,” Melissa shook her head and smiled triumphantly. “I think Suellen just proved my point. I’m satisfied.”
At lunch the second day, Tanya had the opportunity to talk with her half-brother-in-law, George Bent. Perhaps because he was half-white, he was one of the few men taken prisoner instead of being killed. “I’m sorry about Blue Horse,” she told him.
George nodded mutely.
“I thought I saw Magpie escape with your youngest son and Walks-Like-A-Duck.” George’s head came up and hope flared in his eyes. Tanya continued, “They were the last group that escaped downriver just before Major Elliot rode out. I’m almost sure it was her.”
George shook his head despondently. “There was much shooting after that,” he said.
“Yes,” Tanya agreed, “but I think Panther was leading an ambush while the others were helped to safety. There is a good chance they made it. After all, Elliot and his men never returned.”
Again George nodded. “You are right, Little Wildcat. There is hope.”
“My hope is that Panther can rescue us soon. Lieutenant Young is determined to return me to my family in Pueblo.”
“Panther will find you even there,” he assured her.
“Let us make a pact,” Tanya suggested. “If we are not rescued before we are separated, the first to escape and find the tribe will give word of the other. If I return first, I will tell Magpie what happens to you, if I know. If you make it back first, you must tell Panther where to look for me.”
“It is agreed.”
Suellen’s continual sniping was wearing on Tanya’s already frayed nerves. Added to her many griefs, Tanya was now worried about Nancy. The hard traveling was taking its toll on the girl. Tanya recalled how difficult it had been for her the day Mark had been born.
Custer was pushing them hard and Nancy was taking the brunt of it even though she was relegated to a more comfortable position in one of the supply wagons. Nancy was in much discomfort; her stomach as hard as a pumpkin, her back in constant pain. When nausea and stomach cramps added to her complaints, Tanya was sure Nancy was in terrible trouble.
Suellen was a thorn in Tanya’s side, Nancy a constant worry, and Jeffrey a growing problem. Convinced by Melissa’s arguments against Suellen’s vindictive remarks, he felt sure Tanya had been coerced and threatened into accepting the Cheyenne way of life. It was unthinkable that she’d willingly chosen to become Panther’s wife and impossible that she might have loved him. Jeffrey much preferred to believe she’d suffered Panther’s attentions bravely and borne his children because they’d been forced upon her. He excused Tanya’s fierce defense of her sons by attributing to her an overdeveloped motherly urge that was actually admirable under the circumstances he’d invented for her in his mind.
Jeffrey was at Tanya’s side every possible moment. While he avoided her children like the plague, he was constantly pestering her. At first he merely chattered, telling her about Pueblo, relating how her parents and sister had moved in with her Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George. He tried playing on her sympathies by relating how upset her mother and father had been and how they had cried and prayed for her safety, and missed her terribly. Next he attempted to soften her attitude toward him by telling her how devastated he’d been to hear the news; how he’d sworn to move heaven and earth to find her; how heartbroken and angry he’d been.
Tanya endured it all in icy silence, giving him only an occasional glance of disdain. To Melissa she said in Cheyenne, “I wish he would either be still or accompany his sad tale with woeful violin music.”
When Jeffrey wanted an interpretation, Melissa said, “Your constant chatter is giving her a headache.”
He’d go away for a short time, but in a little while he’d turn up again like a bad penny. He repeated over and over how everyone had missed her and never given up hoping she would be returned to them safely.
Soon his talk took a more amorous turn, and he pelted her with declarations of undying love. He praised her, calling her his brave little darling, until Tanya wanted to choke him. Always he extended his sympathies for the atrocities he was convinced she had endured and bravely hidden from everyone. His understanding attitude grated on Tanya’s nerves, not so much because it was undeserved as because it rang false in her ears. Repeatedly he told her it didn’t matter to him that Panther had been intimate with her; he was still willing to marry her.
“Condescending bastard!” Tanya muttered. “If he’s so willing to forgive and forget, why does he look at Hunter and Mark with murder in his eyes?”
Melissa interpreted this as, “Go find a snowdrift and bury yo
urself in it, Jeffrey.”
Once in a while, Jeffrey’s understanding mask would crack, and his anger and frustration would slip through. “Damn it, Tanya,” he would shout, “I know you understand every word I’ve spoken! Quit talking that gibberish and speak English! Stop ignoring me and staring at me as if you’d like nothing better than to slit my throat! And for God’s sake, tell that cat to stop growling and licking its lips whenever I come near!”
Truthfully, Tanya’s only enjoyment these days came from watching Jeffrey turn white each time Kit twitched a whisker.
Once his anger had cooled, he was right back, trying yet another tactic. “Speak to me, Tanya. You’d feel so much better if you’d let it all out. You need to tell someone who will understand. I’m your friend as well as your fiancé. I won’t condemn you, darling, believe me. Get it off your chest. I’ve got broad shoulders. Cry, scream, do anything except keep it bottled up inside. I’ll help you through it, love.”
“Of course, Father Young, I’d forgotten confession is good for the soul. I’ll bet you’re just itching to hear all the gory details,” she answered with a sneer in Cheyenne. “I wonder how you’d take it if I described all the passion in glorious, intimate terms. You’d probably have a stroke!”
Melissa rolled her eyes and said, “I don’t believe she thinks you could stand up under the strain of hearing about it, Lieutenant.”
The third night, Nancy started to bleed, and as Tanya was the only one of the four women who had had a child, she was called to nurse her. If she’d had her tray of herbs, Tanya might have been able to do something for her. All she could do was pack cool, wet clothes between her legs to try to slow the bleeding, and wipe her down in an effort to combat Nancy’s rising fever.
By morning Nancy was weak from the loss of blood, and out of her head with the still-raging fever. Tanya traveled with her in the wagon, leaving Melissa to tend to Hunter and Mark. She prayed they would reach Camp Supply in time for the doctor there to save her.
They finally reached Camp Supply in midafternoon. General Custer made a big production of his arrival, playing the conquering hero to the hilt. He strutted and preened like a peacock, prancing about on his horse and attracting all the attention he could glean. He proudly displayed his ragged, frozen collection of prisoners, and collected unending praise for rescuing the four white women. (Nothing was said of the death of Black Kettle’s prize slave, however.)
Custer took enough time out from his recounting of his glorious victory to get medical attention for Nancy, but help came too late. Two hours later, she died. The doctor confirmed what Tanya had already suspected. The attack, the horrors she’d witnessed, and the hurried pace of the journey back had caused Nancy to miscarry. Had it been that simple, she might have survived it, but there had been added complications.
The baby had been turned wrong, making it impossible for her womb to expel it. The baby had suffocated and Nancy had hemorrhaged. On the very doorstep of freedom, she’d bled to death.
For a solid week they remained at Camp Supply while Custer gathered his accolades. The remaining three women were housed in a larger, more comfortable tent, but a forty room mansion would not have been big enough to contain both Tanya and Suellen. Suellen’s bickering and sniping was endless, though Tanya did her level best to ignore her. Finally, Tanya shut her up temporarily by threatening to sew her lips together while she slept. Melissa begged Tanya to do it, regardless.
General Custer was a side-show all on his own. He didn’t need anyone else to sing his praises, as he did a fine job of it by himself. He was invariably expounding upon his own glories and expertise each time Tanya saw him. Without deliberately setting out to do so, Tanya became a supreme irritation to him. It seemed everytime he dared comment on rescuing the four young ladies from the clutches of those savages, Tanya would wander by. Just as he’d start to relate how grateful the poor girls were to be liberated from their beastly captors, Tanya would appear silently, and refute his statements with one long murderous stare, frustrating all his efforts to appear the gallant knight. He could cheerfully have throttled her, but that was nothing compared to what she contemplated doing to him if she ever found the chance.
Another area of conflict cropped up shortly after their arrival. It seemed General Custer had a couple of prized pet wolfhounds he doted on. He never traveled far without them, and they were waiting for him when he returned to Camp Supply.
The wolfhounds and Kit took an immediate dislike to one another, and Tanya had to agree with Kit’s prejudices. The dogs were rambunctious, noisy, ill-trained, and highly nervous. They were constantly sniffing about Kit’s heels, yapping and nipping and generally being a nuisance. Tanya had a hard time keeping Kit in line when they were about.
At long last she’d had enough. Through Melissa, she told Custer to call of his dogs if he cared for them at all. “The next time they come around pestering and taunting Kit, I’m going to turn her loose on them,” she warned, “and there won’t be enough left to stuff!”
Jeffrey redoubled his efforts to break through her shell, but Tanya presisted in her stubborn refusal to acknowledge him or speak English. It was with relief on her part that they started for Fort Lyon at week’s end. Perhaps now his duties would occupy some of his time.
Tanya’s main concern was Panther’s failure to appear, but she reasoned that he could not attack a fort with so few warriors as he now had. She shelved her impatience and consoled herself with her sons.
The journey to Fort Lyon was slightly less hurried than their last. It was two weeks before the walls of the fort came into sight. No sooner were they inside, than Jeffrey consulted with General Custer. Not usually part of Custer’s 7th cavalry, Jeffrey asked permission to return immediately to his post in Pueblo, using the excuse of returning Tanya to her parents in time for Christmas, now just four days away. Anxious to be rid of her, Custer readily agreed, and supplied a contingent of soldiers to accompany them, more to save himself the embarrassment of having the women re-captured again than out of any concern for them.
Since her parents had finally given up and gone on to their destination in California, Suellen had no reason to rush to Pueblo. She opted to spend Christmas at the fort and follow later at a more leisurely pace. There was no love lost on either side as the girls parted company.
As soon as supplies could be replenished, they were on their way again. Tanya took perverse delight in wiping the smirk from Custer’s face by departing from him with a secretive smile and a smart salute. She left him with a perplexed frown on his face as he tried to deduce her intentions.
With luck and hard riding Tanya would be spending Christmas this year with her parents. She was starting to feel very apprehensive about it. Part of her anticipated the reunion with joy, and the other part dreaded it. After two and a half years, would they seem like strangers? Had they changed? Tanya had no doubt that she had changed drastically.
How would they react to Hunter and Mark? Tanya knew if they did not accept her sons, she would not want to stay an hour, let alone any length of time until Panther came.
Over the last years, Tanya had often longed to see her parents again. She’d even missed Julie, and all the sisterly fights they’d had. She wondered what they would expect of her. Would they, like Jeffrey, be morbidly curious about her life with the Cheyenne? Would they flood her with their pity and suffocate her with their love and protection? Could they accept her as she was now, or would they expect her to pick up her life where she’d left off, as if she’d never been gone? Would they be embarrassed by her? Above all, could they understand that, though she still loved them, her life was with Panther now; that given the choice, she’d return to him without hesitation?
Tanya pondered these thoughts and more. It had been years since she’d lived in a house, sat at a table or on a chair, ate with a fork, worn cloth dresses. It would seem foreign to her now.
Jeffrey had thrown a fit when he’d seen her eating her food with her fingers. “For Go
d’s sake, Tanya,” he’d complained, “eat with your fork! You act like one of them,you dress like them, and you refuse to utter a word not in their stupid language! You’re just being stubborn!”
Melissa, who’d readily reverted to eating with a fork and was looking forward to trading in her deerskin dress for cotton, commented, “Will you stop agitating the poor man, Tanya? He’s developing a nervous twitch that’s starting to drive me insane.”
But Tanya was so firmly entrenched in her Cheyenne ways that she wondered if she could revert once again. Did she even care to try? If she had her way, she would be gone again soon. She much preferred her doeskin clothes now, and she silently vowed never to be laced into a corset again, not on the threat of death! Her moccasins were so comfortable that she cringed at the thought of crimping her feet into hot, tight shoes. Her cropped hair was one thing neither she nor they could do anything about. Melissa had evened it up, and now it curled gently about her head like a soft, tawny cap, barely touching her nape and her ears, feathery wisps framing her face.
While her mouth actually watered for her mother’s cooking, a fork seemed as awkward now as chopsticks. She wondered how it would feel to sit on a chair and sleep on a soft bed instead of the ground. The bed would seemtoo high, she was sure — and empty without Panther next to her in the night.
Her longing for Panther was a physical ache. She longed to hold him, touch him, hear his deep, melodious voice. Her body yearned for his touch, his hard body over hers, his stroking hands arousing her passion, his dark eyes flashing with love and laughter.
Where was he now? How soon could he come for her? How long would it take for him to find her.
Tanya and Melissa had discussed what would happen to Melissa when they reached town. Melissa had never been very enthusiastic about going to California in the first place. Never having met her distant cousin, she was worried about what to expect when she arrived. Now she was doubly doubtful about their reactions to her after having spent the last two and a half years with Indians. Melissa was afraid they would look down upon her as soiled and perhaps treat her as badly as the Cheyenne had. To be a social outcast as well as a poor relation was unthinkable.
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