“Ah, child,” was all Corn Woman said. And then she put her arm around Winter Rain’s shoulder and held her until her sobs subsided.
“What am I to do?” Winter Rain asked. “I do not want to leave this place.”
“You will always have a home here, with the People,” Corn Woman reminded her with a gentle smile. “Perhaps there is a reason why you must return to the land of the wasichu.”
“What reason?”
“Only the Great Spirit could tell you that.”
“I will not know anyone there.”
“You did not know anyone here when first you came to us.” Corn Woman smiled kindly. “But you soon had friends here. I think it will be the same among the wasichu.”
Winter Rain sighed heavily. What Corn Woman said was true, but she was still afraid to leave all that was familiar behind.
“In time, the path will be made clear to you.” Corn Woman removed the beaded amulet from around her neck and handed it to Winter Rain. “Take this, so that you will always have something to remind you of this place and the people who love you.”
Winter Rain’s hand closed around the amulet. “Pilamaya, kola.” Slipping the thong over her head, Winter Rain left Corn Woman’s lodge.
Not wanting anyone to know she had been crying, she walked out to the horse herd. The filly ran toward her, then slid to a stop only a few feet away. Shaking her head, the filly rose up on her hind legs, forelegs pawing the air before she dropped down on all fours again. Trotting forward, she nuzzled Winter Rain’s arm.
“I will miss you, too,” Winter Rain said, stroking the filly’s neck.
She gazed at the quiet river, the pine-studded hills, the vast blue sky, the camp in the wooded hollow. This part of her life would soon be behind her. Tomorrow, they would leave for the land of the wasichu.
Wrapping her arms around the filly’s neck, she closed her eyes and wept.
* * * * *
They left early the following morning. Chance led the way out of the village with a pack horse in tow. Winter Rain and her mother came next, and her father, leading another pack horse, brought up the rear.
Winter Rain fought the urge to cry as they left the village behind and began the descent out of the Hills. She wrapped one hand around the amulet Corn Woman had given her, a reminder of all she had left behind, and all that would be waiting here when she ever returned. For she would return. She couldn’t imagine being happy anywhere else. She would go home with her parents, spend time with them. She owed them that much. But next summer she would find a way to return to the Lakota.
She kept her gaze on Wolf Shadow. He had been her strength in these past weeks. No matter what happened in the future, she would never forget him. And she intended to make sure he didn’t forget her, either. That thought warmed her and kept her company throughout the morning.
They stopped at midday to eat and rest the horses. Winter Rain hoped to find a few minutes alone with Wolf Shadow, but he didn’t stay with them. Instead, he went ahead on foot. “Scouting around,” he said, but she knew he was avoiding her again.
They traveled all that day. He kept the pace slow to accommodate her parents. Her father rode in stoic silence, his whole attitude one of impatience. Her mother, more relaxed, watched the passing countryside.
“It is so beautiful,” she remarked. “So…so big. I am amazed that Signore McCloud can find his way without getting lost.”
At dusk, they stopped to water the horses and fill their waterskins, then moved on to make camp in the lee of a rocky crag.
Winter Rain gathered wood for the fire and cooked the rabbits Wolf Shadow had killed earlier. Her father paced restlessly. Her mother hovered nearby.
“Is there anything I can do to help, Teressa mia?”
“No, Mama.” Winter Rain smiled at her mother.
“I feel so helpless out here,” Rosalia remarked.
“Why is Papa so restless?”
“He has business at home that needs his attention.”
Winter Rain frowned. She knew her father worked, but she could not recall now what he did. “What business?”
“He owns the largest bank in San Francisco,” Rosalia replied, pride evident in her voice.
Winter Rain nodded. A bank. Of course. She remembered her Papa had left the house every morning to go to work at the bank. He had taken her with him a few times. The first time he had given her five dollars and showed her how to open a savings account. At birthdays and Christmas, he had given her money to add to her account.
The meal was ready when Wolf Shadow returned. It was a quiet meal. Her father had never been given to small talk at the table and it had been left to Winter Rain and her mother to fill the silence. But Rosalia was intimidated by Wolf Shadow’s presence, and Winter Rain couldn’t think of anything to say.
They went to bed after dinner, all but Wolf Shadow. She could see him now, standing a few feet away staring off into the distance. She wondered what he was thinking about. Was he anxious to be rid of her and her parents so he could get back to his own life? Where did he live when he wasn’t with the Lakota? What did he do? She fell asleep wondering about the man who had stolen her heart.
* * * * *
The days and nights blurred together as they made their way across the vast grassy plains until, at last, they reached the first of the small towns that signaled the beginning of civilization. They passed through several such towns along the way, places that were no more than a wide spot in the road lined by a few ramshackle buildings. Wolf Shadow bought whatever supplies were available at each town.
A week later, they reached Buffalo Springs. It was a large town, much larger than any of the others she had seen along the way. The buildings—she counted over thirty—looked substantial, as if the town intended to be there for a long time. The streets were crowded with men and women. At one end of town, there was a big corral filled with cattle. She saw a building she recognized as a church and one she guessed was the schoolhouse. She remembered going to school, being eager to learn to read and write.
Riding down the street, she looked at the signs, silently sounding out the words, surprised that she hadn’t forgotten how to read. Shoe-ma-ker. Den-tist. Bar-ber Shop. Sad-dle Ma-ker. Red Ace Sa-loon. Lil’s Café. Post Off-ice. Sher-iff’s Off-ice and Jail. The Cattle-men’s Club. Rose’s Di-ner.
So many stores. So many people. She stared at the women. They wore brightly colored dresses with full skirts and long sleeves. Most wore bonnets. Some wore gloves. The men wore leggings, trousers they were called, like the ones Wolf Shadow sometimes wore, and colorful shirts and big hats. And they all wore guns. Men and women alike turned to stare at her and she bowed her head, suddenly self-conscious of her Lakota tunic and moccasins, which were covered with a fine coating of trail dust.
Wolf Shadow pulled up in front of a large building with big double doors and dark green shutters on the windows. The sign overhead read Wind-sor Ho-tel.
Wolf Shadow dismounted. He hesitated a moment, then moved to her side. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her from the saddle. As soon as her feet touched the ground, he turned to face her father.
“It’s been nice doing business with you, Mr. Bryant.”
The two men shook hands, then Wolf Shadow took up the reins of all four horses. He glanced briefly at Rosalia, and then his gaze rested on Winter Rain.
She looked back at him. Their time together was almost over, she thought desperately. There were a dozen questions she wanted to ask him, a dozen things she wanted to say, but not with her parents standing there, listening.
“Have a good trip home,” he said quietly, and then he turned and headed down the street.
“All right, ladies,” her father said briskly. “I’m going to the stage depot to see when the next coach leaves for home. Rosalia, have them send some hot water up to our rooms right away.”
“Si, Eduardo.”
Taking Winter Rain by the hand, Rosalia stepped up on the boardwalk and led the
way into the hotel.
Winter Rain’s gaze darted around the room. She remembered being in hotels before, most of them grander than this one, although this one was very nice. There were sofas and chairs covered in dark green velvet. Tables held pretty lamps with fringed shades. A large crystal chandelier hung from a thick gold chain.
She followed her mother across a patterned carpet to where a clerk stood behind a large desk.
He smiled at her mother. “Mrs. Bryant. It’s good to see you again,” he said, and then paused, his gaze moving over Winter Rain. “I’m afraid we don’t allow…”
“This is my daughter, Teressa,” Rosalia interjected with a tight smile. “She will be staying with us.”
“Yes, ma’am, of course.”
“We will need two rooms, adjoining. And please send up some hot water. We have had a difficult journey.”
“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.” Turning, the clerk plucked two keys off a board and handed them to her mother. “Rooms eight and ten.”
“We left our luggage here during our last visit. Could you please have it sent up as soon as possible?”
“Right away, Mrs. Bryant.”
“Thank you. Come, Tessa.”
Feeling horribly out of place, Teressa followed her mother up a wide winding staircase, then down a well-lit corridor. Rosalia stopped in front of a door with a gold number eight on it. Turning the knob, she opened the door and stepped into the room.
It was a large corner room papered in pink cabbage roses. White curtains hung at the windows. There was a double bed topped by a white spread. A small chest of drawers, a comfortable-looking chair, a mirror on the wall. Peeking behind a flowered screen, she saw a bathtub.
Rosalia crossed the floor and opened the door that led into the next room.
Teressa trailed in her mother’s wake.
Room number ten was a little larger than number eight. The same paper graced the walls.
“Your father and I will take this room,” Rosalia said. “As soon as we get cleaned up, we will go shopping. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Mama,” Teressa replied.
Just then, the door opened and her father entered the room. “Unbelievable!” he muttered. “Simply unbelievable!”
“Eduardo, what is the matter?”
“It seems we just missed the stage going west.”
“But there is another, is there not?”
He snorted. “Yes, of course, but the man at the stage office wasn’t sure when it would arrive. He said there was some kind of trouble on the trail. A bridge is down or the trail washed away or something like that, and the stage has been delayed.”
“For how long?”
“Possibly a week. Possibly as long as three weeks. Three weeks, can you believe that?”
“Perhaps it will not take that long.”
“And what if it does?” He slammed his fist down on the top of the dresser. Three weeks, Rosalia! What are we supposed to do here if it takes three weeks?”
Rosalia placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Calm down, Eduardo.”
“I am calm!” He began to pace the floor, the color in his cheeks rising. “Three weeks!” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sheet of yellow paper which he waved in the air. “This arrived day before yesterday. It seems Cliff Vanderhyde is trying to weasel his way into a position on the Board of Directors at the bank. You know how I feel about that man! It is imperative that I get back there as soon as possible and put a stop to it. I can’t wait three weeks!”
A knock at the door put an end to his tirade.
“That will be the boys with the water,” Rosalia said.
Going to the door, she opened it to admit four boys each carrying two buckets of steaming water.
She stepped back so they could enter the room, then asked one of the boys to fill the pitcher on the chest of drawers.
“So you can shave, Eduardo,” she explained.
A moment later, two other boys entered the room carrying several large suitcases.
“Just put them on the bed, please,” Rosalia directed.
Edward tipped each of the boys as they left the room. Rosalia stopped the last one. “The tub in room number eight needs to be filled as well.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely. “Right away.”
* * * * *
Teressa sat submerged as much as possible in the tub behind the screen. The warm water felt wonderful. The soap her mother had given her to bathe with smelled of lilacs.
Sitting there, her thoughts turned toward Wolf Shadow. Would she see him again? She couldn’t believe he would ride out of her life without a word.
She stayed in the tub until the water grew cool. Drying with a towel, she pulled on her tunic and moccasins, then knocked on the door that adjoined her room with that of her parents.
Rosalia smiled as she opened the door. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Eduardo, we will not be long.”
He looked up from the paper he was reading. “Buy whatever you need.”
Rosalia kissed him on the cheek. “Grazie.”
Leaving the hotel, Rosalia stood on the boardwalk, looking up and down the street.
“There,” she said, and taking Teressa by the hand, she led her across the street and into Krause’s Dry Goods Store.
Inside, Rosalia quickly picked out a modest ready-made dress of green-sprigged muslin for Teressa, a cotton chemise and ruffled petticoat and a pair of drawers. They also bought a pair of gloves, a straw hat that tied in a big bow under her chin, and several ribbons and a pair of pretty tortoiseshell combs for her hair.
From there, they went to Robison’s Mercantile where Teressa picked out a comb and a hairbrush and a small reticule. Mama handed her several dollars, assuring her that a lady should always have a bit of money handy.
Their next stop was Clinger’s Bootery where Teressa picked out a pair of soft leather half-boots that weren’t near as comfortable as her old moccasins.
Leaving the shoe shop, they returned to the hotel so Teressa could change.
Now, almost an hour later, Teressa stared at herself in the mirror, thinking how very different she looked. Her mother had brushed her hair, then arranged it in a knot at her nape. With her hair arranged and wearing her new clothes, Teressa hardly recognized the image in the mirror.
Where had Winter Rain gone?
What would Wolf Shadow think if he could see her now?
“Bella,” Rosalia said, smiling. “When we get home, we will get you a whole new wardrobe.”
Home. Teressa let out a sigh. Would this new world ever feel like home again?
“Come, Tessa, I saw a dressmaker’s shop. Let us see what the seamstress in this western town has to offer.”
“But I have a dress.”
Rosalia made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “One dress bought off the rack is not enough to last you until we get home. Come.”
They walked down the street until they came to a store with a small sign in the window that read, Dressmaker. Mrs. Agnes Constantine, Proprietor and Seamstress.
A tiny woman clad in a bright yellow dress greeted them with a smile almost as bright as her frock.
“Welcome to my shop,” she said. “I am Agnes Constantine. How may I help you, Mrs…?”
“Bryant,” Rosalia said, “and this is my daughter, Teressa. She has need of your services. We will need three dresses for every day, and one for evening, as well as petticoats and undergarments.”
Agnes Constantine looked Teressa over with a knowing eye. “I have some patterns I think will suit.” Turning, she moved toward a door in the back wall. “Come along, dear.”
“Mama?”
“I will wait here while she measures you.”
With a sigh, Teressa followed the seamstress into another room where the woman measured her from top to bottom.
“There,” Mrs. Constantine said, dropping her tape measure into her pocket, “I think that
does it.”
Mrs. Constantine called Rosalia and the three of them went into another room where they spent an hour looking at patterns and fabric swatches.
Teressa was overwhelmed by the number of patterns and colors. There had been little variety in her clothing while living with the Indians. Most everything had been made of doeskin. Now, she would have full skirts made of colorful cotton and velvet, and shirtwaists in all the colors of the rainbow, and dresses with puffy sleeves edged in delicate lace. Once again, she wondered what Chance would think when he saw her in her new finery.
“How long will it take you to make up the dresses?” Rosalia asked.
“I can have one ready by tonight. The others will be ready day after tomorrow.”
“Grazie. Come, Teressa.”
Leaving the shop, they walked down the boardwalk to the hotel. Saddled horses were tied to hitching rails along the street. A wagon rumbled past, churning up a layer of thick yellow dust. A woman carrying a baby in one arm and holding a little girl by the hand smiled at Teressa as she passed by. From somewhere further down the street came a sound that was vaguely familiar. It was a piano, she thought. Once, long ago, she had taken lessons.
When they returned to the hotel, Mama said it was time for supper. Feeling ill at ease in the presence of so many strangers, Teressa followed her mother into the hotel dining room. Teressa looked at the menu, but the words meant nothing to her and she let her mother order for her.
With her hands folded in her lap, she gazed around the room. Her lassitude vanished when she saw Wolf Shadow sitting alone at a table near the window in the back.
Without thinking, she rose and hurried toward him.
He looked up, his brows lifting in surprise. “Teressa, how pretty you look.”
“Thank you.” His compliment warmed her.
Rising, he pulled a chair out for her. “Sit down.”
She did so, pleased and relieved that he had made her welcome. “I was afraid you would go away and I wouldn’t see you again.”
“I wouldn’t have left town without telling you goodbye.”
Wolf Shadow Page 18
