“Tell us your story,” Four Bears said.
I looked to Yellow Hair Woman, not sure what he’d meant. “He wants you to tell how you came to be in the cave. Gatherings are a time for sharing stories.”
“May I?” Lydia spoke up beside me.
“By all means,” I said.
By this time, people had begun passing plates and bowls of food to each other. I wasn’t much good with stories, so I was happy to yield the floor, focusing instead on filling my eager belly.
As it turned out, though, Lydia had yet another surprise for me because she was a gifted storyteller. I had no way of knowing how her words translated, but by the rapt attention all around, and the way everyone fell silent to listen, I had to assume our adventures translated well.
Like a master, she used just the right words to capture a person’s character, and she came alive with gestures and expressions, leaning into her descriptions, and embellishing where it improved the story. When she told of the train robbery and how Clyde’s men injured the boy, the listeners grunted and murmured their disgust with him, just as Lydia meant for them to. She told them I saved the boy’s life, which wasn’t entirely accurate, but all eyes turned to me, full of respect. She built up Ernie’s impending death as a test of our courage and mettle, and when Ernie died she downplayed her role in saving our lives, instead making me out as the hero. Appreciative murmurs rippled through the crowd. It didn’t escape my attention that she minimized her role in events. When she told of beating Clyde over the head with a burning log, a wave of enthusiastic laughter rippled through the crowd. In her story, though, her efforts were clumsy and I was the one who saved her, enduring a gunshot in the process, but still managing to rescue us and get us away from the evil fiends.
“When I woke the next morning, Emmett burned with fever and I was afraid for his life. That’s when Leaning Bear and his men showed up, just in time to save us. You know the rest of the story,” she finished.
Nods of approval worked around the room, and anyone close enough nudged and clapped Leaning Bear and his men on the shoulders and back, praising their actions.
With a full belly and healing wound, gratitude overwhelmed me. “Thank you, Four Bears, for your generosity. You’ve shared your home and food and medicine with us, when you didn’t have to. We appreciate your hospitality.”
Four Bears nodded, accepting the gratitude with gravity. I turned my attention to Leaning Bear.
“And thank you for taking pity on us, Leaning Bear. We’re grateful you went out of your way to show us kindness. If not for you and your men, we may have died in that cave.”
I’d spent just enough time with natives in my travels to know many of their cultures revolved around honor, especially among the warriors. I had no desire to upset that balance, so I tried to choose my words carefully to show my gratitude, but also to maintain Leaning Bears’ reputation. Besides which, I really was thankful that he’d saved us.
Leaning Bear preened, clearly pleased with himself. He leaned toward Four Bears and said something just for his ears. Yellow Hair Woman watched them, and from her furrowed brow she knew the subject of their conversation. So when Four Bears turned to discuss the matter with her, she was ready for him. To anyone not paying close attention, the exchange didn’t seem out of place or heated, but I couldn’t help notice their disagreement. They both scowled and although they kept their voices low, the words were clipped and intense.
The contents of my stomach rolled and soured.
I leaned to Lydia and whispered in her ear, “I have a bad feeling…”
Before she could respond, Yellow Hair Woman made a hmph sound and turned to address us.
“Leaning Bear has taken an interest in Red Face Woman, and has expressed his desire to make her his wife.”
“Who is Red Face Woman?” I asked, puzzled as to why this was our concern.
Yellow Hair Woman glanced at Lydia, whose jaw had dropped open in disbelief. Two and two came together, then, and I realized Lydia was Red Face Woman. If not for the circumstances, I would have found it amusing that first of all she’d already earned a name among the People, but also that they’d chosen one so very appropriate for her.
“I’m sure Lydia’s flattered by Leaning Bear’s attention, but…”
“I can speak for myself, Emmett.”
Four Bears spoke, and Yellow Hair Woman continued her position as translator. “Does Red Face Woman belong to another man?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Lydia said at the same time.
“Is she your wife?” Four Bears asked.
“No,” I said.
“Is she promised to you?”
“Not exactly.”
“You wish her to be?”
I looked at Lydia, whose expression hinted that she was ready to work past some of her timidity.
“Yes,” I said, and swallowed hard.
Lydia’s brows went up in surprise.
Four Bears and Leaning Bear continued in heated discussion, then Four Bears said, “Since two men want her, we must decide which will win her. She has no family among us for you to present your gifts to, and to decide who will have her. So we must decide another way.”
Lydia looked as if she might explode. She was certainly disgruntled, if not downright outraged. “What if—” she started, but I interrupted her.
“Not now, Lydia. Whatever you’re going to say, think hard about it. The last thing we want to do is insult the people who saved us.”
“What if I don’t want either of you?” she whispered.
“I don’t think that’s an option.”
“Well, you know of the two alternatives, I’m going to choose you.”
“I just hope they allow you to make the choice.”
Her pique slipped just a bit and shades of panic crept into her eyes as she worked out the idea of being forced to marry Leaning Bear.
“What if,” she said, turning to Four Bears, “we have a competition?”
Four Bears frowned, considering her suggestion. “What kind of competition?”
“No fighting,” she glanced at me, then at Leaning Bear. “Where would be the honor in beating an injured man?”
Leaning Bear didn’t appear very happy about being denied what would have been an easy win, but of course her appeal to his honor worked like magic and may have saved my life.
She was a crafty little thing wrapped up in an unassuming package. By Leaning Bear’s expression, he thought the same thing and liked it; or at least considered it an asset that made her a more valuable—and maybe formidable—wife. He seemed the kind of man who enjoyed a challenge.
“Then what?” Four Bears asked. “What would be a fair test?”
“What about storytelling?” Lydia asked. “That’s a well-regarded skill, is it not?”
I groaned inwardly. I’d almost rather fight Leaning Bear with my fists than with words. All I could hope was his storytelling skills were worse than mine. She’d saved my life only to hand me the nearly impossible task of saving hers.
Four Bears smiled and nodded. “Storytelling is an excellent choice.”
“And Lydia will choose the best story,” I said.
“You will both tell your stories and everyone will decide which is best,” Four Bears said.
I wanted to point out the crowd would surely favor their own man over a stranger no matter how good my story, partly because he was family, but also because they had to live with his wrath if they didn’t. But if I said so, I’d insult everyone in the camp, which wasn’t a very smart move. My only real hope was that he’d tell a story that even if well-loved, was one they’d heard before and maybe, just maybe, they’d appreciate a new story even more. Now all I had to do was figure out what story to tell them.
I’d done all I could to give Emmett a chance, now it was up to him to figure out how to win the competition. I couldn’t be more terrified if I tried. Emmett couldn’t lose, because I couldn’t be married to an Indian. N
ot that Leaning Bear wasn’t an attractive man, in a savage sort of way, but if I ever married, I intended to have some say in who stood across from me at the altar. I never wanted to find myself sold off like property ever again. I’d done that once, letting Father make that decision for me, and agreeing to it like a sheep. At the time it hadn’t felt like a blessing to be rejected, but in the end it really had been, regardless of how much I’d struggled since then. At least if Emmett won, I wouldn’t have to marry him, but if Leaning Bear won, I wasn’t sure how I’d avoid it.
“Leaning Bear, share a story with us,” Four Bears said.
As Leaning Bear spoke, Yellow Hair Woman translated for us, keeping her voice low so she didn’t disturb the rest of the audience.
“When I was a young man, I went on my first buffalo hunt, where I earned my name.”
I watched the people around me as they smiled and nudged each other, nodding their approval. The story must be a well-known favorite if everyone recognized it. I glanced at Emmett as he listened, and he appeared distracted. He watched Leaning Bear, and listened to Yellow Hair Woman, but he seemed to be focused inward, I hoped, formulating his own story.
“We followed the herd for three days. The final day, Short Shadow told us we had caught up to the buffalo and would hunt tomorrow. We made camp.”
Leaning Bear told his story well, using his upper body to sit tall or hunch as a way of engaging his audience. His energy infected them, and they hung on his every word despite having heard the story before. His hands danced in the air, emulating actions, and his eyes glittered with mischief in the firelight.
He told of the hunters making camp, preparing their weapons, and how he decided to explore. He convinced another boy to go with him, and they wandered off, climbed some rocks and found some rabbits to chase through the trees.
The girls behind me giggled. I didn’t think chasing rabbits was particularly funny, so maybe they anticipated whatever came next. All eyes were on Leaning Bear, except for one young woman who had fixed her gaze on me. Her grim frown made it obvious she didn’t like me, though I hadn’t met her yet, so I could think of no reason for her to feel that way unless…
I glanced again at Leaning Bear, then back to her and her frown deepened. Ah, so she had her heart set on him and now I was in the way. If only she knew how happy I’d be to see him shift his attention to her and leave me out of it.
“Each of us wanted to be the first to catch a rabbit and bring it back for dinner. I was in the lead as we ran around a rock.”
He paused and used the moment to grin and waggle his eyebrows. From the corner of my eye I saw Emmett wipe his hands down the length of his thighs. He had to be nervous. How could he compete with a favorite story told by one of the clan’s favorite sons? I realized I’d given him an impossible task. Had I misjudged? My goal had been to even the playing field and avoid a physical fight where Emmett would be at a disadvantage because of his injuries. Now I wondered if my choice had been a mistake.
I reached over and gave Emmett’s hand a quick squeeze. I couldn’t help a brief glance at the girl who’d been watching me. She looked down at my hand on Emmett’s, then back up at me, and smiled, understanding passing between us.
“My eyes were on the rabbit so I didn’t see the bear leaning on the tree, scratching his back, until I ran into his belly and bounced backwards into Gray Skunk and Youngbird.”
The crowd roared with laughter. I couldn’t help snickering, myself. I imagined Leaning Bear at ten or eleven, doing such a harmless young boy thing as chasing bunnies, rounding a corner entirely unaware and literally running head on into a big bear, minding its own business. They must have both been taken aback.
Emmett tensed next to me, which caused me to tense. I’d been caught up in the story, forgetting the consequences. What would my life be like as part of the clan? Yellow Hair Woman seemed content. She’d said if given a choice she’d never go back to the white world. These people had been warm, kind, and generous with us, but I still felt like an outsider and I couldn’t imagine becoming one of them, much less marrying Leaning Bear.
He had an easy smile, and despite his reputation as a feared warrior, he clearly had no problem telling stories that invited people to laugh at his mistakes. In fact, his very name was based on a humbling childhood event. He was the kind of man who embraced and lived beyond those stories. I admired that, but not enough to want him as my husband. I would happily call him friend, but when I imagined him kissing me the way Emmett had kissed me, my body had no reaction. There was no heat or eagerness; none of the tingling anticipation of Emmett’s touch.
I tried to swallow past the dry lump in my throat as Leaning Bear slid a triumphant glance in my direction and past me to Emmett.
Once the laughter died down enough, Leaning Bear continued. “The bear was so surprised by a boy launching himself into his belly that he just stared at me. I thought for a moment he looked offended that I’d interrupted his satisfying scratch.”
More snickers encouraged him to finish. “We didn’t wait for him to get angry with me. Instead we gave up on rabbit for supper and ran back to camp.”
“Not before he bowed and apologized,” a man called from the back. I had to assume he was either Gray Skunk or Youngbird. His interjection earned another round of laughter.
Leaning Bear bowed for the crowd as if to demonstrate. “Youngbird and Gray Skunk, of course, shared the story with all the hunters, and that’s how I earned my name.”
Cheers went up and the audience clapped and pounded the ground to show their appreciation. Four Bears held up his hands to get their attention.
“That is always a good story, Leaning Bear. Thank you for sharing it with us.” At that moment, all eyes in the room turned to Emmett, including Four Bears. “Hole in his Side, what story do you have to share with us?”
Emmett folded his hands in his lap and scanned his audience, making eye contact with everyone as he did. To look at him, I’d think he enjoyed storytelling as much as Leaning Bear, but his muscles tensed against my leg, and when I glanced down at his hands, he squeezed them together so tight that the knuckles had turned white. So he didn’t enjoy it, or maybe the stakes had his nerves strung tight.
He cleared his throat before speaking, and as he did, Yellow Hair Woman translated for the audience. “A long time ago, a young woman named Red Face lived far away with her clan. They were all women: a healer, a mother, a trickster, and Red Face, a storyteller.”
My face flushed hot, reinforcing my name. A murmur went through the crowd as they all looked at me then back to Emmett. Their approval was evident from their nods and smiles that he’d chosen to tell a story about me in order to win me. Emmett sat up straighter next to me, a bit more confident in his choice.
“Everyone loved her, but her heart was so big she spent all her time caring for others and didn’t see how much they all loved her in return.”
I thought of Beth, Daisy, and Nellie, and I missed them and what our lives had been. I did love them.
“One day, her brother sent a crow to her with a message that her mother was ill, and asked for her to visit. Red Face, being a good daughter with a loving heart, hurried to her mother’s side. But her brother had turned himself into a wolf and eaten their mother, and waited for Red Face so he could eat her too.”
The people were quiet, their eyes wide, waiting to find out what happened next. I recognized the story of Red Riding Hood in Emmett’s version of my life. But the Indians didn’t know the Grimm fairy tale, and that it was meant for children. It was clever that he’d given it an Indian turn with the transforming animals. It seemed as if the breath the audience held was fat with expectation.
“She walked through the woods to her mother’s house, listening to the little birds singing sweetly, and picking pretty flowers for her mother. When she went inside her mother’s house, she saw her sleeping in bed and thought she looked strange. ‘Mother, what big ears you have,’ she said. ‘All the better to hear you
with,’ her mother said.”
Some of the people nodded, others made tsking sounds at the evil wolf. I had to hide a smile.
Emmett continued, “‘Mother, what big eyes you, have,’ she said, and her mother replied, ‘all the better to see you with, my dear.” By now he had added a high pitched voice for me and a gravely older woman’s voice for the Mother. The people watched Emmett, engrossed in the story as if they understood his every word even without Yellow Hair Woman’s translation. “‘But Mother, what big hands you have,’ Red Face said. ‘All the better to hug you with,’ her mother said and reached for Red Face, but Red Face backed away and said, ‘Oh, Mother what big teeth you have,’ and Mother grinned with a mouth full of wolf teeth and said, ‘All the better to eat you with,’ and lunged for Red Face.”
The audience gasped.
“The crow had been worried about Red Face and followed her on her journey. When the wolf tried to eat Red Face, the crow flew in the window and pecked the wolf and flapped his wings about the wolf’s head and chased him outside. Red Face closed the door behind the wolf, but the wolf was angry he’d been cheated out of his meal, so he circled the house looking for a way in. He finally climbed to the roof, thinking he could fool Red Face by sliding down the chimney into the house.”
I glanced sideways at Emmett. In my recollection the story of Red Riding Hood had ended differently. Was he confused?
“‘Red Face,’ the wolf called. ‘I will eat you and your crow friend.’ The crow turned himself into a man, and Red Face was afraid, but the man told her, ‘don’t be afraid. I’m here to save you. I’ll keep the wolf busy on the roof. You go draw water from the well and pour it in the pot on the hearth.’ Red Face saw there was still meat in the pot and she understood what the man had in mind.”
I sensed Emmett had veered into the story of the Three Little Pigs, and couldn’t imagine such simple children’s stories could win this contest. I only hoped he knew what he was doing.
Depending on the Doctor (Nevada Bounty Book 2) Page 15
