by Stephy Smith
Rising Wolf rose before the sun warmed the village. He tossed a few logs on the fire contained within his tipi. His heart thundered as his mind wandered to Amelia, the Falcon Woman. It was time for him to choose a wife, and he hoped she would say yes.
He thought back on the times when her lips brushed against his at the river. The strange lightning from the kiss coursed through his body, leaving him wanting more. Several times he had seen Silver Hawk and his woman do the same thing. They seemed happy with the strange show of affection.
There had to be more to the act, and he wanted to learn what it was. Desire burned in Falcon Woman’s eyes when he gazed into the dark green depths. She offered more than he had realized, yet to this day he could still feel the power of her medicine on his lips.
Staring into the fire, her vision haunted him. The strange tug of his heart warred with his mind. She has white blood. I cannot take her as a wife. What if she betrays me just like all the whites have betrayed my people for years? Woman With Small Voice’s words came back to him. Falcon Woman was in love with him, but he dare not hope the old woman’s words to be true. Why would Woman With Small Voice lie? She was an honorable woman.
There were plenty of women in the village who would fight to be his wife. He shook his head. None of them possessed the power to pull his heart into theirs by just the tiniest actions. The sway of Falcon Woman’s hips as she strolled through the village sent heat burning to his loins. His heart fluttered at the way she stopped and talked with the women. Her laughter overwhelmed the air as she chased children through the camp as they played. He had witnessed her giving nature when she helped the elderly, and it brought comfort to his soul.
He slipped from his tipi. In search of answers, he walked through the stillness of the camp. Rustles from inside other dwellings alerted him the people inside had risen, and the village would soon come to life with the activities of the day. Aimlessly he walked about until he reached the horses at the far end of the encampment. His eyes scanned the herd until he found his own.
With steady, smooth strides he approached the gelding. He raised his hand and stroked the neck of the horse. “Which woman would you take to be your wife?” To his surprise, the horse raised its head from the luscious grass and perked its ears away from the village toward the Tucker home.
Rising Wolf shifted his weight back to the village. He gave the horse a pat on the back and then strolled toward the area where several young maidens worked. Their eyes fell upon him. The announcement had already been made to the camp that he was in search of a wife. Each of the maidens flashed their brightest smiles. He paused before the group for a few minutes. No one said a word.
There was no attraction, no lightning, tingling or even the least bit of desire to make itself known within him as he looked upon the faces of the women. He turned and glanced back toward the Tucker home. His heart raced, and a passion too deep for him to understand returned to his body. In his soul, he knew that was where he would focus his intentions.
Doubt reared its ugly head once more. How could he trust a woman he barely knew? One he had barely spoken to. Everything about her was perfect for a warrior’s wife except the white blood flowing in her veins.
Chapter Two
Jerome galloped up the mountain. The two women he was closest to were on his mind. Little Snowbird, the woman he had always made time for when he visited the Cheyenne village, and his stubborn sister.
“What is Amelia up to? Why can’t she see I am trying to help? I don’t want to be away from home, but there isn’t any other way for me to speak for the people if I don’t go to Washington.” He patted the gelding on the neck. “I know you don’t know what I’m talking about. I wonder if I know what I’m talking about. My sister is a complicated woman. I love her, but I sure am glad she isn’t one of my choices for a wife.”
Little Snowbird picked the right time to visit his mind. Ah, yes. That’s more to my liking. He would rather focus on the Indian maiden’s heart than on the guilt his sister was working to make him feel. Many times he walked with Little Snowbird when his father and grandfather took him to deliver fresh meat to the village. They had talked of how they could make changes for the good of the people.
The two of them would sit on the banks of the river and watch the sun sink behind the mountain. Calmness accompanied the beautiful sight as the world closed its eyes to the day. His heart always beat rapidly until it was time to leave. Then it would plummet into a darkness he didn’t understand until he returned to Little Snowbird’s side again.
She was always within his mind. If she refused his marriage proposal, he didn’t know if he could go east alone. Many times he had told her he loved her. A smile crossed his face as he remembered their first kiss. The pinkish tint colored her cheeks when she leaned into him, setting the center of his body on fire. Her confession of how her knees grew weak when he was near told him she felt the same as he did.
Little Snowbird’s long blue-black hair hung in braids in front of her shoulders. Her piercing brown eyes sparkled with golden flecks to warm his heart. He made his way to the herd his grandmother had told him about. What if they had moved and were no longer in the meadow? His heart lurched with panic. What would he do without the horses he needed? He didn’t have the money to buy fifty horses to offer Little Snowbird’s family.
He drew in a deep breath. The sun played through the boughs of the trees. Shadows danced across the new growth of the mountainside. Silence was broken when a hawk screeched out its call. Another one joined it in the sky to circle above. His eyes focused on the sight as the birds seemed to have claimed each other as their mates. Soon, Little Snowbird and I will join you in your wedding dance. He couldn’t help but feel a happy connection to the fowl overhead.
****
Little Snowbird paced the inside of the tipi. Red Eagle had told her of his plan to deliver many horses to her father. She already knew her answer. For a few years she had welcomed his courting. Excitement built as she recalled wrapping her arms around him to hold his taut body. A tingle crept down her spine as she recalled the feel of his warm breath caressing her cheek.
She paused at the entrance of the tipi, and then ducked through the opening into the crisp morning air. Her gaze fixed on Rising Wolf as he ambled around the camp. The look on his face caused her to wonder what was bothering the warrior. She had never seen so much confusion that the warrior didn’t pay attention to his surroundings.
Even though the rumor around the village was that he was ready to take a wife, Little Snowbird was sure his choice would be the right one. It was odd that he would wear his feeling out in the open as he did now. She shook her head and smiled. The way Falcon Woman gazed upon him when she was in camp hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone except Rising Wolf. He had also displayed the look of a love-struck man when he watched Falcon Woman’s every move.
She fought to go to him and tell him his answer was outside of the village just as hers was. But her own future was easier to accept, since she knew of Red Eagle’s plans. She wondered how long her own love had walked around in a daze, oblivious to the world before he got up enough nerve to ask her to marry him. Red Eagle had asked her before he went to her father, and it had saved him the embarrassment if she had a notion to decline.
Rising Wolf, on the other hand, had not spoken to anyone of his intentions. He had no idea if the woman he chose would accept, although she was certain whoever it was would.
She followed him to the edge of the camp and hid in the shadows of the tipis. What is taking you so long, Red Eagle? I am anxious to get this done with. Her nerves grated on each other as she turned and walked back through the village.
****
Ho’ neeme’ ehne, or Rising Wolf as the Tuckers called him, couldn’t clear Falcon Woman from his mind. For years he had admired her from afar and dreamed of making her his woman one day. He glanced around at the new leaves and sprouts of grass. If the land was getting a new grasp on life, he may as well get one too. Urging his horse forwa
rd he made his way to the meadow where the grass stayed green. In the clearing, a herd of horses grazed. Rising Wolf paused to observe them.
Many times when the Tucker family visited the village, he had planned to catch Falcon Woman alone to talk to her. On the few occasions they were alone he got so lost in her eyes, her nearness stilled his tongue.
Silver Hawk and Bright Eyes kept her close to their side when they joined in celebrations. The family didn’t hide the way they felt about their children. When one of the siblings did well in a sport, the whole family pulled them into their chests or touched their lips to each other’s cheeks.
It was an odd thing to see amongst his people, but he could read the family’s eyes and thought he might enjoy the gesture. A tingle ran through his fingers as he thought about touching Falcon Woman’s glistening hair. The dark brown waist-length locks sparkled with deep red sun streaks. He inhaled the cool mountain air as he closed in on the clearing.
He pulled his horse to a stop and eyed the wild mustangs before him again. The warm sun skimmed across their backs. So many colors shimmered under the shadows of the sway of tree limbs. Cool, crisp mountain air filled his lungs as he inhaled. Low sprays of water crashed against the banks of the river. Its soft hum lulled the area as if it were singing it to sleep.
Most of the horses were healthy and stout in appearance. A few older ones stood away from the younger ones. How many would Silver Hawk and Bright Eyes accept for their daughter? He didn’t know, but he was willing to give as many as he could round up to offer.
A disturbance in the brush drew his attention. He backed his horse into the thickness of the trees and waited, his spear in one hand and his shield clenched tightly in the other as he held his breath.
Jerome rode to the left of him and stopped. Rising Wolf nudged his horse forward and joined the man who would soon be his brother.
“Red Eagle, it is good to see you. What brings you to this part of the mountain?” Rising Wolf rode forward and clasped arms with Red Eagle.
“I’m here to gather horses to offer for Little Snowbird.”
“Me too.”
“You want to marry Little Snowbird?” Red Eagle’s brows creased.
“No, my friend. I want to marry Falcon Woman. Do you think there are enough horses for both women?” Rising Wolf glanced at Red Eagle.
“How many do we need? We could take as many as we can get to the cabin and tell Ma and Pa they’re for Amelia. When she accepts, I’ll take them and ask for Little Snowbird.”
“Good plan, Ma’ enetse. I like the way you think. If Falcon Woman doesn’t accept my proposal, you may have the horses.” Rising Wolf pointed to the far end of the horses. They sat and scanned the herd as it milled around the area.
“Oh, she won’t refuse. You may want to think again what you’re getting yourself into, Rising Wolf. Why do you want to marry my sister?” Red Eagle’s brow furrowed.
“She catches my breath.” A smile played across his face.
“What? She’s a bossy and stubborn woman.” Red Eagle glanced at him.
“Why do you want to marry Little Snowbird?”
“She caught my heart.”
Rising Wolf waited a few minutes as he thought on Red Eagle’s answer before he spoke. “How do you know she’s not a bossy woman?”
“I don’t know. I do know about Falcon Woman. She would just as soon rip my eyes out as to admit she ever made a mistake. But she is a good woman and will make you proud. I can’t see her as you do, since she is my sister.”
Rising Wolf tried to form the image of Falcon Woman being aggressive. In all the years he had known them, she never had cause to be aggressive. This new information made her all the more desirable. He shifted on his horse.
The two men glanced at each other and urged their mounts to the end of the herd. Slowly, they pushed the wild animals toward the trail leading to the Tucker cabin. Halfway down the slope a wildcat’s scream stampeded the group.
Rising Wolf’s heart picked up a beat as the thrill of the chase began. He leaned back on his horse and held his shield in front of him. Flying down hill could be dangerous if they hit loose terrain. Low branches popped against his leggings as he reined his mount away from the trail. He closed in on the lead, pushing as many of the wild animals back toward the narrow path as he could.
He had lost sight of Red Eagle, but was sure he, too, had to venture off to keep as many head from straying into the wilderness. A war cry escaped his lips as his horse descended through the denseness of the brush. Off in the distance he could hear Red Eagle’s call. The beating of the hooves from the herd roared across the mountains. From the sounds of Red Eagle’s cry he was further down the mountain and would reach the Tucker place before he did.
****
The pounding of hooves disrupted the Tucker family’s otherwise peaceful farm. Amelia peeked around the barn and down the mountain trail; a herd of horses ran toward the corrals. Kale raced past her to fling the gate wide. Emma, Kale, and Amelia blocked the herd’s path, waving their arms in the air to divert the horses into the wooden enclosure. Jerome followed the herd, and once he’d ridden inside the pen, Kale closed the gate.
“Some of them escaped on the way down the mountain.” Jerome huffed. “How many made it? What’s the headcount?” He jumped from the gelding's lathered back and led the horse from the corral. He stepped to the bottom rail of the fence, excitement filtering over his features.
“Looks to be about thirty or so.” Kale slipped past his children to stand by Emma. In unison, their gazes shifted to the mountain trail.
Amelia joined her brother on the fence, vowing one day she would visit the waterfall and meadow their grandmother had spoken of.
The sounds of another horse approaching caught her attention, and she turned to glance over her shoulder. A quick lump formed in her throat. What was Rising Wolf doing here? With his dark eyes fixed on her parents, her golden warrior drew near; his raven-colored tresses flowing freely down his back. The sight of him sent an electrical beat coursing through her body. Pulse pounding, she tried to focus.
Something bad had to have happened at the village to warrant a visit from the war chief. It wasn’t like him to go off on his own and leave the tribe. The urge to rush toward the group gripped her insides, twisting and ringing her guts as if they were laundry to hang up and dry.
Straight of shoulders, he puffed out his broad chest, his aura exuding confidence across the short distance between him and Kale. He spoke low, his words unintelligible, although Amelia strained to hear. He nodded in her direction, and the breath lodged in her throat. She willed herself to advance, but for a moment her feet denied her request.
Kale said a few words and smiled. She glanced to her mother, who nodded to Rising Wolf. Her courage returned.
Shaky, Amelia set her moccasin-clad feet to the ground. She strolled to her parents’ side, displaying more calmness than she felt. A strong urge pulled her to stand near Rising Wolf. The smell of the woods and campfires drifted around him. She breathed deeply, drawing in the freshness of his scent. A new kind of warmth took over her soul.
His nearness clouded her senses as if he were claiming her for himself. Once more she let her dreams rule her heart to experience the freedom of his untamed world. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she absorbed the depths of his voice. Her attention drew back to him when she caught his movement. She dared not dream he was there to propose marriage to her.
Rising Wolf pivoted on his heel, mounted his horse, and rode back up the mountain trail without a word to her. A small voice in the back of Amelia’s mind told her that the episode—his strange appearance, had something to do with her. She had to find out what it was, and why he’d helped Jerome bring in the horses. It was a well-known fact that the two men weren’t close friends, but neither were they enemies.
Had Rising Wolf sided with the rest of her family? Was he eager to send Jerome to Washington, D.C., like the rest of the tribe? Would he help get rid of him? Th
e whole affair wore heavy on her shoulders. There was no way to fight what she couldn’t change. No one bothered to include her in any of the plans to help her brother achieve his destiny. Her fingers clenched tightly against the palms of her hands.
“What is it, Pa?” Her fists rested on her hips. A blush burned her cheeks as she fought to pull her eyes away from Rising Wolf. Her heart rippled like the muscles in his bare back, strong and taut.
“I must speak to your mother first, and then we’ll let you know.” Her father took her mother’s hand and led her into the cabin. Amelia glared while a million thoughts of their bizarre behavior entertained her mind.
“Anovaoo ‘o, come.” Woman With Small Voice called to her granddaughter. She always called her grandchildren Ma’ enetse and Anovaoo ‘o, their Cheyenne names, and never by the English versions of Red Eagle and Falcon Woman.
“Yes, Grandmother.” Amelia strode to her grandmother's side. She lowered herself and sat cross-legged in front of the elderly woman. Shivers of anticipation ran down her back as she waited for the story to begin.
A faraway look appeared in her grandmother’s dark eyes. She paused a few moments, and Amelia fidgeted with the fringe on her moccasin and twisted the strands around her fingers and then untwisted it. One thing was certain. Grandmother could not be rushed. She spoke in her own time. To interrupt her train of thought always prolonged the silence.
“When you were a small child, you reminded me of a fawn. Soft, tender, and tiny. As you grew, you were gentle in your words, your thoughts, and your touch. You connected with the beauty of the mountain with a rare grace and appreciation, understanding the necessities for survival. Your power of gratitude and giving led you down an alternative path to find answers to your problems. Ma’ enetse learned to sacrifice for the higher good of the Cheyenne people through you, and now you fight him.” Woman With Small Voice paused. “That is my story. You think on what I’ve said. I have seen many good things come to pass in my time. Give Ma’ enetse a chance.”
