by Stephy Smith
“All this time I have been blessed and guided by a deer standing at the edge of the woods?” Amelia’s voice was barely audible.
“This is true. The deer was there to send you her wisdom when you entered into this world. She is your animal spirit. Have you not seen her behind the trees, in the meadows, or at night when your problems eat at your insides?”
“Yes, I have.” Amelia recalled many times the deer had always been nearby. With feminine grace, her tiny feet barely left imprints in the grass when she grazed in the clearing.
“Think on these things, Anovaoo ‘o. This is your life path. Your animal spirit, the doe, will lead you to the place you need to be.” Woman With Small Voice lowered her head and closed her eyes. Her soft snores brought lightness to Amelia’s heart. It amazed her at how fast her grandmother could slip into sleep.
Her grandmother’s words churned in her mind as she retreated. Grandmother was right. She should let Jerome follow his own path. But why did his path always entangle with hers? As the words sunk in, she realized just because they are twins didn’t mean they should be together all the time. She loved her brother, and now, as Grandmother had related in her story, it was time to let him fulfill his own destiny.
Footsteps fell softly on solid ground. Jerome stood on the bottom rail of the fence, staring at the horses in the corral. Amelia scrutinized him as if for the first time. His body had grown to match their father’s in size. Why hadn’t she noticed before? He had turned into a man right before her eyes, and she still saw him as the boy she grew up with.
“Jerome?”
“Listen—if you want to discuss my trip to Washington, D.C., again, you may as well forget it. I’m going, and that’s that.”
His apparent aggravation chewed at her conscience. It wasn’t her intent to try to talk him into staying. She softened her glare at him.
“I know. I just want to wish you luck. I’ll miss you, but I know you have to do what is best.” She sighed to show her acceptance. Her shoulders slumped as she lowered her head. She drew patterns in the dirt with the toe of her moccasin. After a few awkward seconds, she raised her gaze to Jerome. “Is there anything you can do for the tribe?” She prayed he would succeed in his quest, because for years the whites had discarded the needs of anyone other than themselves.
Jerome lowered his head and rubbed his chin. “I don’t know, but I have to try.”
“I just want you to know I’m proud of you.” Tears filled her eyes and her voice cracked. She twisted to leave and her feet tangled, but she caught herself before she fell. Her chest tightened. Drawing in a gulp of air, she shuffled toward the cabin.
How am I to survive without you, Jerome? Who do I go to while you’re gone? Maybe one day I could visit the big city and attend one of those grand balls mother spoke of from time to time. Pretending to twirl a parasol, she giggled and envisioned a crowd of men floating around her until the bronze-skinned warrior stood on the stairs of her dream. The crowd parted and she took his hand, smiled back at the men, tossed her head in the air, and traveled to Pine Ridge with the handsome Rising Wolf.
Darkness clouded her senses as the reality of her hopes sunk to the bottom of her stomach. Deep down she knew she would never see the day Rising Wolf would be allowed to attend one of the white's grand parties.
With quiet steps, she followed the trail to the tree where the deer visited. Sliding down the trunk, she sat between two snarled roots. She felt for the wooden box she had hidden beneath the twisted wood. Clenched in her fingers, she pulled it out, untied the leather thong, and removed the slick skin it was wrapped in. The coolness of the soil chilled the box she held in the palm of her hand. The smell of the dirt brought about a sense of pure mountain air blended with the cedar rectangle. Rough ridges and shallow indentions depicted a beautiful likeness of a doe and her fawn on the lid.
Amelia marveled at the box and tried to picture who left it in place of the drawings she secreted beneath the tangled roots. In her younger years, she would sit beneath the tree and watch the wildlife. One day she brought her pencil and paper along, planning to finish her homework. A tiny fawn lay at its mother’s feet. Its huge brown eyes gazed at her every move as she drew the images of the pair on her paper and surrounded them with lush grass and trees.
She had laughed at her handiwork and hoped with time it would get better. When it came time for her to help her mother with the cooking, she tucked the pictures under the roots of the tree. As each day passed she found more animals to sketch. It was her own secret world she escaped into as she let nature invade her body to relieve her solitude.
So many times she had wondered if real artists let the beauty of their surroundings take over their artwork, even if no one ever saw it. The pictures were her own little collection. Something she cherished as she added life to each one. Then one day when she returned to the tree, she discovered all the drawings were gone.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she searched the tangled roots. Her world had been invaded. The pounding in her chest grew louder as heat rose to her cheeks. No one was ever supposed to see them. They were hers and hers alone.
Leaning against the tree, she let her hands fall to her sides, her knuckles thumped against something hard just beneath the soil. Brushing away the dirt, she found a skin with a leather thong tied around it. Curious as to what it was, she pulled the object from its burial place and worked the knot loose. Before her eyes, she held the rectangular cedar box with the intricate pattern of a deer and her fawn. The first picture she had drawn. Carefully she folded the skin, tied the leather back in place and slid the present back in its shallow grave.
Her family never mentioned the box. If they had her drawings, they would have displayed them somewhere in the cabin. Still, she escaped into her world that she now shared with some secret entity she knew nothing about. Her mother’s voice pulled her out of her wonderings.
With a fluid movement, she rose and strolled down the trail to the cabin. On the way, she searched the area for signs of deer. Where was the spirit guide her grandmother had spoken of? With a shrug, she entered the cabin, content that guidance wasn’t needed just now.
“Sit, Amelia.” Her mother’s voice was soft.
Amelia closed her eyes for a second and prepared to be scolded for snooping in Jerome’s affairs.
“I made up with Jerome, if that’s what this is about.”
“No. This is something else. We think you’ll be pleased.” Kale glanced at Emma and then to Amelia.
A long hesitation ensued, setting Amelia’s nerves on fire. How many times in one day did she have to wait in pure agony until the time was right for a story to be told? Tension set in her muscles. She tapped her foot on the wooden floor.
“The horses brought in today were from Rising Wolf. This may come as a surprise to you, but he wants to take you as his wife, and he’s waiting for an answer. Your ma and I think he’s a good, honorable man and will make a nice husband. We’re ready to accept his offer. The amount of horseflesh he’s willing to pay is high.” Her father’s words were rushed and Amelia heard her mother suck in a deep breath.
Amelia stammered. Why would Rising Wolf make such a careless move? He sure wouldn’t pay a high price for a woman with enemy blood, let alone ask for her hand in marriage. He was proud of his heritage, his people were his life, and he wouldn’t dare risk tainting it.
“Those aren’t his horses. They’re Jerome’s.” Amelia shook her head.
“No, they’re not. Jerome met him in the meadow. Rising Wolf was already there when your brother arrived. He helped Rising Wolf bring the horses in. Not the other way around.” Emma’s voice sang with a happiness that came from within her heart. Stars flickered in her eyes.
“Rising Wolf doesn’t love me. I want a marriage like yours—a man who adores me—like Pa adores you, Ma.” She ducked her head. Heat covered her cheeks.
“Whatever his reason, he feels something for you or he wouldn’t have offered such a high price.
You know the Cheyenne show their affection differently from the whites.”
“Yes, Pa. I know.” She sighed. “Still, he’s never spoken of courtship to me. If he cares so much why hasn’t he expressed his interest?” Anger burned hot in her chest. The honor of being chosen by him was too much to hope for, or to believe. She knew she would have to work twice as hard as the Indian women to prove herself a worthy wife for a war chief.
“Seems you need to talk to him about these things.” Her father’s expression sobered. “We think this will be a good union. He’s waiting on the mountain in the clearing until sunset for your answer.” Kale took in a long draw of air.
“If you accept his offer, we’ll give the horses to Jerome for his proposal to Little Snowbird’s family. The horses will stay within the tribe.” Emma’s eyes lit with excitement.
“And if I don’t accept the proposal?” Amelia crossed her arms over her chest. Her mother’s near demise with the trapper, and the agony she’d gone through to clear her father’s name along with the Cheyenne name, took center stage in her mind.
Shivers ran down her back as she envisioned her mother being draped over the back of the horse as the trapper took her up the mountain. So many times, she had tried to put herself in her mother’s position when she was chained to the wall in his shack. In all her years, she had never seen her mother angry enough to fight. But, from what she had been told, Emma fought for her freedom that day when she hit the man upside the head.
Kale and the Cheyenne had been wrongfully accused of the crime. The soldiers tried to convince Emma she was imagining things that were lies. Her mother set her mind and had tried to tell the people of the fort the truth. They disregarded her words and accused her of not knowing what had happened or who had shot her.
The Cheyenne were tormented and treated as though they were nothing in the white man’s world. How could she let herself believe Rising Wolf would seek her out as a wife? How could she risk the heartache of waking from this dream, only to find his proposal wasn’t real? Her mother’s voice interjected into her thoughts.
“Jerome will go to Washington, D.C., with a broken heart if you refuse. Not to mention disappointment and anger toward his sister.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped. Had she heard her mother correctly? This situation wasn’t fair, for now she would carry the blame for making Jerome’s life miserable. Her parents had kept his trip to Washington a secret from her. Now they would blame her for his plight in making the trip alone. How could this be happening?
“When will I have to marry Rising Wolf if I accept?” She cocked her head and waited with bated breath.
“Rising Wolf has assured us he’ll wait until you’re out of mourning due to Jerome’s absence.”
“All right! I’ll do it if he allows me a little time.” She glared at her ma and pa’s open-mouthed expressions. Flustered with the turn of events, she wanted to get away from their gazes. The scraping of wood sliding across the floor echoed as she stood. Her hand rested on the back rung of the chair for a moment before she shoved it up to the table. She stomped to the ladder and climbed the stairs to the loft.
The idea of making the trip up the mountain to Rising Wolf crossed her mind. She needed to set a few things straight before she stepped into this marriage. Yet she knew enough to know the answer had to come from her father before she would be permitted to go to him.
Annoyance boiled in the pit of her stomach. She shook her fist in the air. The nerve of them, putting Jerome’s destiny in her hands. Did they expect her to bite the head off a snake for him as well?
She gazed out the tiny window on her side of the room. On an overhang of the mountain’s edge, Rising Wolf stood, tall and handsome. He kicked at a stone then stared toward the cabin, completely unaware of how she felt about him. One thing was for certain—he was as nervous as she was right now. A soft laugh filtered through her lips. If he planned to take her as his wife, they’d both best get rid of the jitters.
Thundering hoofbeats pulled her eyes to the corrals. Ma and Pa hadn’t wasted any time giving the horses to him. Jerome and four warriors herded the horses toward the Cheyenne camp. As she watched him leave, her brother’s departure sank in deep and strong, sealing a fate she didn’t want to face. It wouldn’t be long before Little Snowbird accepted Jerome’s proposal, and they’d be on their way to Washington, D.C.
Amelia descended the ladder. She glanced at her parents before she exited the cabin. Circling around the back, she took the narrow animal trail to the ledge Rising Wolf waited on.
His gaze fell on her. She drew in a deep breath and tried to still the thundering pounding in her chest. Her stomach tied in knots.
“Falcon Woman?” He made no attempt to move.
“I need to know why you have chosen me to be your wife.” She kept her eyes on him, but didn’t move any closer. His dark eyes lightened.
“You are a thief.”
She pursed her lips and clenched her fist. “What?”
“You take my heart and mind.”
She turned back to the trail. Bending at the waist, she clutched her stomach with both arms. When she opened her tear-filled eyes, Rising Wolf stood beside her.
“Are you alright, Falcon Woman?” His eyes were wide, and his shaking hand supported her elbow.
“Yes. I’m fine.” Amelia suppressed a giggle. “Why haven’t you ever talked to me?”
“Your eyes drowned me when I look into them. They pull the very soul from my body and take the words from my mouth.” His honesty sent shivers down her spine. She moved closer to him.
“And the white blood that runs through my veins, does that bother you?”
“Not as much as the thought of having to live without you.”
Her heart picked up a beat. “Rising Wolf—” Before she could finish, he pulled her into his solid body. His arm muscles flexed against her rib cage. They stood near enough for his warm breath to caress her cheek. She gazed into his eyes as his face drew closer to hers. Her lips parted, and he brushed his against her cheek.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. After a few awkward seconds, he responded to her kiss. His tongue explored her mouth. Her knees grew weak and she leaned into him. Intense heat built in the core of her being. An electrifying tingle worked its way across her skin where their bodies met. She couldn’t stop herself from melting into him.
“Anovaoo ‘o,” he whispered in her ear.
“Ho’ neeme’ ehne?” she addressed Rising Wolf by his Cheyenne name.
“You should go. I must wait for the reply from your father.” He pushed her away from him.
“I’m…I had to know why you chose me. I don’t want a marriage if it’s not full of love.” She lowered her eyes to the ground.
“It will be full of the love you speak of.” With those words she turned and hurried down the trail to the cabin.
Her mother and father had moved to the wooden porch. She walked past them and stood on the edge, and watched her enchanting warrior mount his horse.
Rising Wolf sat astride his horse, his arms extended upward. Although she couldn’t hear the words, she knew he was giving thanks to the Great Spirit. She thought back on his words and suppressed a giggle. It had been the first time she had ever been accused of being a thief. In her mind, at least she stole something that no one else could steal. Now it didn’t matter that there were so many young, beautiful Cheyenne women he could have chosen. He’d picked her, and she was pleased. Despite her confusion as to his choice of a wife, her heart took in the meaning of the honor he brought to her family.
Being chosen by Rising Wolf would ensure her family to be fully accepted into the tribe, despite the white blood flowing in her grandfather and mother’s veins. They would be treated with respect and could pass amongst the villagers without causing concern. For the first time in her life, she would be accepted by someone. She let her eyes linger for a while longer and then turned back to her parents.
“Ma,
Pa, I have changed my mind. I want to marry Rising Wolf before Jerome leaves. I want Jerome to share in the happiest day of my life.”
Kale jumped from his chair and hurried to the barn.
Amelia pivoted to her mother. “Where’s he going?”
“I would say up the mountain to give Rising Wolf the news. Where else would he go? Rising Wolf cares for you more than you know, Falcon Woman.” Emma’s eyes brightened. “Come inside with me.” Amelia followed her mother through the cabin door and watched as she strolled across the floor to the old trunk.
Amelia shook her head, finding it odd for her mother to call her by her Cheyenne name.
Lifting the lid, Emma pulled out the most beautiful, white doeskin dress Amelia had ever seen. “This is for you to wear on your wedding day. I’ve never regretted marrying your father. I was proud to wear this dress, and I hope you will be also.” Tears glistened in Emma’s brown eyes. She raised the soft skin and took in the aroma.
With hands that shook, Amelia grasped the dress, pressed the soft and velvety hide against her cheek. She closed her eyes, allowing the moment to imprint itself in her mind. When she opened them, her mother stood before her, tears streaming down her cheeks. Amelia reached out and pulled her close.
“I would be honored to wear this dress. I can feel the love that radiates from the garment. Rest assured, dear mother, the love I feel for Rising Wolf equally matches the love you felt for Pa on your wedding day. ”
Chapter Three
Rising Wolf knew Falcon Woman wouldn’t have come to him without good reason. He lifted his hand to his lips still tingling from her kiss. Her visit to him on the mountain surprised him. He jumped from the back of his horse as he realized his premature move would give the secret meeting away.
Kneeling, he plucked a grass blade, ran the stem through his fingers and placed it in his mouth. Many times, he sat in stillness waiting for his prey to come closer on a hunt. This hunt was different… it was for a wife.
