“Have you seen the stranger?” Dawn Song asked.
“Yes,” Winter Rain answered. “I have seen him.” The thought of how she had seen him brought a quick flush to her cheeks.
“He is a handsome warrior,” Dawn Song remarked.
“Do you think so?” Winter Rain asked
“You do not think so?” Dawn Song asked, astonished.
“I have not thought about it,” Winter Rain said, though, in truth, she had thought of little else since Wolf Shadow had arrived.
“I think he is even more handsome than Strong Elk,” Dawn Song.
Winter Rain thought so, too, but said nothing.
“The Brave Hearts are having a dance tonight,” Dawn Song remarked.
Winter Rain nodded, grateful that her friend had changed the subject. Only she hadn’t.
“I wonder if the stranger will be there. You are coming, are you not?”
“Yes, of course,” Winter Rain said. Strong Elk belonged to the Brave Hearts. It was one of the warrior societies. Her father belonged to the Kit Fox society. There were other societies, like the Naca Ominicias, who were often referred to as the Big Bellies. The Naca Ominicias was made up of retired hunters and distinguished elderly shamans.
She wondered if Wolf Shadow was a member of the Brave Hearts. If so, would he be at the dance?
Afraid that Dawn Song might question her further about Wolf Shadow and discover her interest in the stranger, Winter Rain changed the subject.
She dressed with care that night, her heart pounding with mingled anticipation and trepidation at the thought of seeing him again. She put on the new moccasins her mother had made for her. Soft and pliable, the tops were covered with tiny yellow, blue and red beads. She brushed her hair until it fairly crackled, then applied a bit of red paint to the part. She fastened a blue and yellow beaded bracelet around her wrist, smoothed a hand over the skirt of her tunic.
Mountain Sage smiled at her as she stepped out of the lodge. “Have a good time, daughter.”
“Thank you for the moccasins.”
After hugging her mother, Winter Rain followed the other young men and women who had been invited to the dance, which was being held in a large tipi near the center of camp.
Entering the lodge, Winter Rain sat on the south side with the other women. The men sat on the north side. A fire had been built in the center of the lodge. Two paunch kettles were located near the fire, filled with meat provided by the hostesses.
Dawn Song entered the lodge. She paused, her gaze moving over the guests until she saw Winter Rain. Walking behind those already seated, she sat down beside Winter Rain.
“Is he here?” she asked.
“Who?” Winter Rain asked, though she knew perfectly well who her friend was talking about.
“Wolf Shadow, of course. Is he here?”
Winter Rain’s heart skipped a beat as the object of their discussion entered the lodge. He wore a wolfskin clout, fringed leggings, moccasins, an elkskin vest with a wolf’s head painted on one side and a bolt of yellow lighting on the other. A single white eagle feather was tied in his long black hair; a wide copper band spanned his right biceps.
His gaze found hers immediately and something hot and alive passed between them before he sat down. He spoke to the warriors who sat on either side of him, but his gaze never left hers.
When everyone had arrived, the girls rose. Walking across the lodge, they each chose a partner by kicking the sole of his moccasin. Winter Rain was not surprised when Dawn Song chose Wolf Shadow. Tamping down a rush of jealousy, Winter Rain chose Strong Elk’s older brother, Buffalo Bear, for her partner.
When the singing began, the dancers each grasped their partner by the belt and with their knees slightly bent, began two-stepping sideways, going clockwise around the fire to the rhythmic beat of the drums.
Winter Rain’s gaze strayed time and again to Dawn Song and Wolf Shadow. He danced with an effortless grace. Dawn Song stared up at him in a most unmaidenly way, giggling behind her hand at something he said.
After they had danced awhile, the singers stopped singing for a few moments, and then started up again. As four was a sacred number to the Lakota, there were four parts to the songs. When the fourth section had been sung, the men and women went back to their places and there was a short intermission.
Winter Rain couldn’t help noticing that her friend was all smiles when she sat down. Like a pot bubbling over, Dawn Song went on and on about Wolf Shadow, about how tall he was, how handsome, how well he danced, until Winter Rain wanted to shake her and tell her to be quiet.
Just when she thought she might do just that, the singers called for the Circling the Kettle dance. Two of the men rose and danced before the girls and then each of the men picked a partner. Now the four formed a line, with the last girl chosen standing on the right. The four of them danced around the fire and then the girl on the right chose a partner as she passed the men’s side of the lodge. On and on it went, with the last dancer chosen picking a partner. Each time a new dancer was chosen, the singers sang a different song, whereupon the dances all swung around and danced in the opposite direction.
Winter Rain’s heart was pounding as the line moved toward her. Wolf Shadow had been picked last and now she waited, wondering if he would choose Dawn Song as his partner. She slid a glance at her friend. Dawn Song had eyes only for Wolf Shadow. There was an expectant smile on Dawn’s face as Wolf Shadow drew closer, a smile that quickly faded as Wolf Shadow reached for Winter Rain’s hand and pulled her to her feet to join the dance.
The song changed as she joined the line, and then changed again when everyone was dancing.
Winter Rain was acutely aware of Wolf Shadow’s hand holding hers. Strange, that it took no more than the touch of his hand to send shivers of excitement coursing through her.
She was sorry when the singing stopped and the men and women separated yet again. During this intermission, food was served. All during the meal, she was aware of Wolf Shadow watching her. Feeling self-conscious, she kept her head down and tried to enjoy what she was eating, but she hardly tasted a bite. Dawn Song sat beside her, a sour expression on her face.
When everyone had finished eating, the warriors stood and each one chose a girl. Once again, Wolf Shadow picked her to be his partner and they stood facing each other. Winter Rain felt her cheeks grow warm under his blatant regard and wondered, briefly, if Dawn Song would ever speak to her again.
When the singers began to chant, the couples moved toward each other, met in the center, and then danced back. As they moved forward, the dancers sang while the singers drummed. As the dancers moved backward, they were silent while the singers sang and drummed. They did this four times and when the fourth part was completed, Crooked Lance, who was one of the Brave Hearts, asked the drummer to hit the drum so that he might count a coup. Crooked Lance then told of his bravery in a battle against the Blue Coats and how he had counted coup on two of the wasichu Long Knives and killed a third in hand-to-hand combat. When he was finished, he offered a gift to the hostess.
Dancing shadows cast by the light of the fire flickered over the lodge skins and the faces of each of the warriors as they stood and related one of their exploits in battle, and then offered a gift to someone in the crowd.
Winter Rain paid little attention to the tales of bravery, many of which she had heard before, until it was Wolf Shadow’s turn to speak.
Rising, he stood in the center of the lodge. There was something about him that made her heart beat a little faster. He reminded her of the wolf for which he had been named, lithe and dangerous but gentle with those he loved. His gaze moved slowly over the crowd and then settled on Winter Rain’s face.
“This is a tale that began many moons ago,” he said, his voice low and compelling. “I was a young warrior then, one who had sworn a blood oath of vengeance. Because it was necessary, I left the land of my ancestors and traveled to the land of the wasichu. I saw many strange things but my hea
rt was set on vengeance. Many years passed and my enemy foolishly thought himself safe. I did not take his life until he remembered who I was and what he had done. And when he was dead, I took his scalp and then I dipped my hands in his blood.”
There were murmurs of approval as Wolf Shadow finished his story.
Shivering, Winter Rain folded her arms over her breasts. She was not repelled by the tale, only by the cold look that had settled in his eyes as he spoke of the blooding.
Wolf Shadow pulled a pouch of tobacco from inside his breechclout and offered it to one of the warriors, then resumed his seat.
After the last warrior had taken his turn, the singers took their places again and the dancing resumed. When the hour grew late, the couple acting as chaperones rose, and after dancing with the other couples for a short time, they made their way to the door and danced themselves out of the lodge. This was the signal that the dance was over.
Winter Rain stood and followed the other girls as they filed out of the doorway. Mountain Sage stood outside with the other mothers who were waiting for their daughters. Winter Rain knew the young men would not immediately return to their lodges. Given the freedom of men, they would wander around the camp for a time before going home.
“Dawn Song did not bid you goodnight,” Mountain Sage remarked as they made their way home.
Winter Rain shrugged. “I think she may be angry with me.”
“Angry? What have you done?”
“I did nothing. She has soft eyes for the stranger in our village. She chose him as her partner, and she did not like it when he chose me instead of her.”
“Ah.” A single word, but it said all there was to say.
Winter Rain bid her parents goodnight and went to bed, only to lie awake wondering if the enemy Wolf Shadow had followed to the land of the wasichu was the one responsible for the scars on his back.
Chapter Seven
Strong Elk returned late in the afternoon two days later. An hour after he returned to camp, his best friend, Two Beavers, approached Winter Rain’s lodge leading eleven Crow ponies.
Eagle Lance listened solemnly as Two Beavers spoke.
“The warrior, Strong Elk, desires to take your daughter, Winter Rain, as his wife. To show his respect, he offers you these ten ponies, which he has stolen from our enemies, the Crow. This horse,” he gestured at a pretty buckskin mare with fox-like ears, “is a gift for Winter Rain.”
Eagle Lance nodded. “Tell Strong Elk I accept his offer. Tell him to prepare a feast tomorrow and we will bring Winter Rain to his family’s lodge.”
Two Beavers passed the lead ropes of the horses to Eagle Lance. “My friend will be pleased.”
Winter Rain stood inside the lodge, listening to the exchange between her father and Two Beavers. So. It was done. She was to marry Strong Elk. Now that it was arranged, she was beset by doubts. Like most Lakota maidens, she had had little opportunity to be alone with the man she would marry. Most of what she knew of him she had learned from friends and from meeting him “by accident”. In the last year, they had managed to meet numerous times.
When she had come of age, many of the young men had come courting. Some nights, there had been half a dozen young men waiting outside her lodge. Gradually, she had refused all the others until only Strong Elk remained. Still, courting beneath a blanket was not the best way for a couple to get acquainted, not when there were curious children running around nearby, not when she was ever aware that her mother was never far away.
And now it was done. Her father had accepted Strong Elk’s gift. Tomorrow, she would take her place as his wife. She was already past the age when most girls married. Her mother had taught her all she needed to know. She could cook, she was virtuous, honest, and a hard worker. She had a fine hand when it came to sewing and beading. She was also accomplished at quillwork. Quilling was considered one of the most desirable of female arts. Tanning a hide required a good deal of strength, but quilling demanded a gentle hand and dexterity. Her mother was one of those who taught others. Mountain Sage had dreamed of the Deer Woman. Such women were noted for their ability to do quill work. Mountain Sage had told Winter Rain that the first Lakota woman who had dreamed of the Deer Woman had learned the art of quilling in a vision while she dreamed. On waking, she had set up a new lodge. Over time, she had sorted and dyed the quills of a porcupine, and then she had passed her skills to another.
Winter Rain sighed. Tomorrow she would leave her mother’s lodge and begin her new life as Strong Elk’s wife. She would do the things she had seen her mother do: she would tend the fire, do the cooking and sewing and mending, keep the lodge tidy, gather wood and water, and entertain Strong Elk’s friends. If Strong Elk was not pleased with her as a wife, he would divorce her. Among the Lakota, it was a simple thing. All he need do was publicly announce that he had “thrown her away” and she would return to her mother’s lodge in disgrace.
Winter Rain frowned at the turn of her thoughts. Not even married yet, and she was thinking of divorce.
A moment later, her mother hurried into the lodge and there was no more time for worry or doubt, only time to make plans for the morrow.
Mountain Sage laid out the dress and moccasins she had prepared for the occasion. In addition to the new clothing, Mountain Sage gave her daughter new robes for sleeping, a sewing kit of her own, and a pair of willow backrests.
“You have chosen wisely,” she remarked later that night while brushing Winter Rain’s hair. “Strong Elk will make you a good husband. He is wise and brave. He is a good hunter. You will always have meat in your lodge.”
Winter Rain nodded. She would gain honor and prestige in being married to a warrior such as Strong Elk.
She went to bed early that night, yet sleep eluded her. She was to be married tomorrow. Why did the thought fill her with trepidation instead of excitement?
Long after her mother was asleep and her father was snoring softly, she lay awake, staring at the sky through the smoke hole of the lodge. And when sleep came, it was not her future husband she dreamed of, but a tall man with a scarred back and storm-colored eyes.
* * * * *
Chance sat outside his cousin’s lodge, a cigarette dangling between his lips. So, she was getting married tomorrow. She would don her best tunic and moccasins and her father and mother would escort her to Strong Elk’s lodge. There would be a feast, presents would be exchanged, and Winter Rain would become Strong Elk’s bride. She would build a new lodge for the two of them, bear his children, warm him on cold winter nights.
Damn.
Taking a last drag on his cigarette, Chance tossed the butt away, watching the faint red glow as it arced through the darkness, then winked out in the dirt. His hopes of collecting the reward were in the dirt, too, he thought glumly. Maybe he should have just grabbed her and made a run for it. He considered that a moment, then shook his head. As much as he wanted to pay off the mortgage on the ranch, it wasn’t worth losing his cousin’s respect, or jeopardizing his standing with the People. In a choice between the two, he would give up the ranch. The Double C might be all that his father had left him, but it was just a few thousand acres of land. The Lakota were his people. Though he had not made his home here in years, his heart and soul were here, in the land where he had been born. His ancestors had lived and died here. His mother’s blood had watered the ground.
Tomorrow, he would go back to the ranch. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could talk the bank into an extension on the loan. As a last resort, he might be able to sell enough cattle to make up the difference between the five thousand Bryant had paid him and what he owed the bank. If not…
He gazed out into the darkness. There was no point in worrying about that now.
He glanced at Winter Rain’s lodge. Was she sleeping soundly, dreaming of tomorrow? And tomorrow night?
He scowled at the thought of her sharing Strong Elk’s lodge. What was it about the Bryant’s daughter that had him tied in knots? Hell, he hardly knew the girl. She
wasn’t even his type. He liked his women tall and blonde and experienced. Yet none of the women he had known stirred him the way she did, or had kept him up nights, unable to sleep for thinking of her, wanting her.
Muttering an oath, he went into his cousin’s lodge and crawled into his lonely bed.
* * * * *
Winter Rain woke early after a restless night. Sitting up, she saw that her mother and father were still sleeping. Snuggling back under her blankets, she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep but she was too agitated by her upcoming marriage to rest, too nervous to stay in bed.
Rising, she dressed quietly and slipped out of the lodge.
Only a few people were outside. She glanced toward Strong Elk’s tipi, wondering if he was as nervous and uncertain as she was and then, as if pulled by an invisible string, her gaze moved toward Kills-Like-a-Hawk’s lodge. Would Wolf Shadow come to the feast?
Needing something to keep her mind from paths better off not taken, she walked toward the timberline, thinking to gather some wood for the morning fire. Tonight, she would be building a fire for her husband. The thought did not please her as it should have and the next thing she knew, she was walking toward the river.
And he was there. Clad in clout and moccasins, his skin like burnished copper in the early morning light, his arms raised above his head. Wolf Shadow. His hair fell past his shoulders, thick and black. The scars on his back shone like a fine silver web in the pale sunshine. Her heart quickened at the sight of him and she knew in that moment that she would never be happy with Strong Elk, or with any other man.
As though sensing her presence, Wolf Shadow slowly lowered his arms and turned to face her.
His gaze met hers, intense, unwavering. “Today is your wedding day.” His voice was soft, but she heard the hard edge beneath it. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Wolf Shadow Page 6
