“You can come in now. He’s decent.” Jamie grinned at his sister from the door, then ducked when she sent a missile of rolled bandages at his leering face. “Be nice to me or I won’t read to you,” he threatened.
“I can read to myself.”
“Yeah, but I just got a new book, Robinson Crusoe, and I know you’re going to love it.” Jenny stuck her tongue out in annoyance at her brother, but asked him to come back when he was done with his chores. He tugged her braid as he left, and she turned to clean up the mess remaining from the earlier surgery. Sister Mary Frances went to give a report to Father Clarence, who was spending more and more time in his office. Occasionally, Jenny stuck her head through the door to see if the mysterious young man had awakened, but he lay as still as death.
Jamie came back later that afternoon and flashed a grin at Jenny when he asked about the patient. When she ignored him he sat down to read aloud. Jenny was trying to mend the young man’s garments which had been cut from his body. Sister Mary Frances silently joined them. She had come to enjoy the quiet interludes the three shared, and marveled at how Jamie could make a story come alive with his voice. As the afternoon faded into evening Jenny looked up from her mending into the infirmary and thought she saw a flash of dark eyes, but when the nun went to check on her patient, she reported that he was still asleep. Jamie read until he could no longer see from the light that came through the window. Since Father Clarence had started spending all his time in his office, the three of them had been taking their meals in the infirmary, and they enjoyed supper together before Jamie went back to his dormitory.
As she climbed into her own bed, Jenny assured Sister Mary Frances that she would wake her if the young man came around in the night. She flipped through the pages of the book for a while, taking care not to read ahead. Once again, she felt a feeling of disquiet, but when she looked across the room to the other bed, all seemed still. She blew out the lamp and settled down under the blankets. Outside the wind began to pick up, reminding all inside that winter was still around, even though they had enjoyed a few days of mild weather. Jenny longed for springtime, her self-imposed imprisonment was beginning to wear her down. When she thought about it, she convinced herself that the reason she found the young man so interesting was because she was bored. She rolled over to face him, willing him to wake up, but all she heard was the sound of his steady breathing. She eventually fell asleep with the sound of his breathing in her ears, giving her a sense of comfort that she hadn’t felt for a long time.
Sometime in the early morning hours she heard a curse that brought her quickly awake. She sat up and lit the lantern. The young man was sitting up, trying to figure out the brace that held his leg suspended from the rafter above. He scowled at her as she lit the lamp, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness that filled the room. Jenny turned the lamp down and went over to his bedside.
“You can’t move the leg; it’s badly broken,” she explained. The patient slumped back on the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. Jenny investigated the contraption that Jamie had rigged to make sure it wouldn’t come crashing down, causing further injury. “How do you feel? Do you need anything?” she asked.
There was no response, just a slight movement of the dark eyes that were shielded under his forearm. Jenny brought the lamp over to his bedside table and tried to peer up under the arm. The eyes followed her, but still he said nothing. His earlier struggles had knocked one of his pillows off, and Jenny bent to pick it up, tossing her hair over her shoulder so it cascaded down the front of her gown. She plumped the pillow and held it up hesitantly to the patient. He obliged her by leaning forward, and she placed it behind his back. He reclined on it, grimacing as the shoulder wound took the pressure of his weight. He looked over at the bandaged shoulder, then down at the strange shirt he was wearing.
“We took an arrow out of your shoulder, and set your leg. Your clothes are in there. We had to cut them off you.” The dark eyes followed her, but he still didn’t say a word. Jenny looked at him, tilting her head to the side.
She began to sign, “Do you need anything?” He looked at her hands in amazement, then up at her smiling blue eyes. “Would you like some water?” she continued signing. He nodded, and she went to pour him a glass from the pitcher. He drank thirstily, then held the glass out for more. He drained another glass and handed it back to Jenny, shaking his head when she held out the pitcher to see if he wanted more. “I guess I’ll have to wake Jamie when you need to get rid of it,” she said to herself.
“What is your name?” she signed. There was no response. “Your tribe?” He watched her hands, but if he understood, he gave no indication of it. He just watched her with his dark eyes. Jenny gave up and went back to her bed. She turned the lamp down low, so the light created soft glow around her bedside table. As she pulled the blankets up she saw that his eyes were turned on her. She lay facing him, but eventually her eyes grew heavy and she fell back asleep.
Jamie woke her the next morning by tickling her ear. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said with a grin. She jumped up with a start, looking immediately at the other bed. Sister Mary Frances was checking on the rigging that held the patient’s leg in the air. “He weighs a ton, I practically had to carry him to the chamber pot,” Jamie said over his shoulder.
“Jamie!” Jenny smacked his shoulder, and he pretended that she had mortally wounded him.
“Can’t get any words out of him so far.”
“He understands sign,” Jenny said, “At least he understood some of what I did last night.” The patient’s dark eyes met hers briefly.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” the nun asked.
“I didn’t think I needed to. I gave him some water and he went back to sleep.”
“I’d love to know what his name is,” the nun said as she rearranged the blankets around the patient.
“Do you speak Lakota?” Jamie asked in the language that Gray Horse had taught him. Once again the dark eyes showed surprise, but there was no response. Jamie picked the arrow up from the table where he had placed it the previous day. “Do you know who attacked you?” The eyes narrowed to slits, and he took the arrow from Jamie’s hand, turning it over and over, examining the feathers attached to the end and the markings on the shaft. He gripped the arrow so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and finally the fine wood snapped in half, making the young man look down at the two pieces in wonder. Jamie reached out and took the arrow away, then casually sat down on the side of Jenny’s bed. “Jen, why don’t you go on and get dressed?” His wide blue eyes were serious, and Jenny immediately gathered her things and left. Sister Mary Frances said she would go find some breakfast for the group, and Jamie made himself comfortable after the nun left.
“The sheriff found you and your mother out on the plains. Your mother did not survive,” Jamie began. The dark eyes closed as if in pain. “I know you can understand me, so you might as well talk to me.”
“Where is my mother’s body?” The words were precise and clear, the English perfect.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask the sheriff.”
“I need to send her body to the spirit world so she can be with my father.”
Jamie nodded his head as if in perfect agreement. “Your father was Indian?”
“Yes, Kiowa.”
“Kiowa—then you’re a long way from home.”
“After his death, my mother wanted to return to her people. That’s where we were going when we were attacked.”
“Who attacked you?”
“Renegades, after our horses. We had no weapons, we left the tribe with nothing.”
Jamie sat and digested this information while the young man lay back as if the conversation had drained him. “What is your name?” Jamie finally asked.
“My father called me Chase the Wind.”
Jamie extended his hand. “My name is James Duncan, and my parents are gone, too. Everyone here has lost their parents.” Chase the Wind looked at the out
stretched hand and finally took it in his own, returning the firm handshake.
“I do not plan to stay here long,” he said.
“Me either.” Jamie grinned, causing the young man to grin in return. Jenny was standing in the doorway braiding her hair during this exchange and looked at her brother in amazement. “This is my sister, Jenny. I think you two have already met.”
Jenny walked into the room and looked at the young man with a grin. “Did you enjoy making me go through all that signing last night?” she asked.
Chase the Wind gave her a sheepish look. “I thought it best to keep quiet until I knew where I was and what was going on. You would be surprised at what people will say when they don’t think you can understand them.”
“Did I say anything that surprised you?”
“No, but you did surprise me when you signed. Where did you learn that, and how do you know Lakota?”
“Our father had a friend who is Lakota,” Jamie explained.
“I need to find out what happened to my mother.”
Jamie and Jenny exchanged looks as Sister Mary Frances came in with a tray. She raised her eyebrows when she heard her patient speaking English.
“Chase the Wind would like to talk to the sheriff about his mother.”
“But don’t you know ...”
Chase the Wind held up his hand to stop the nun from going further. “I know what happened to my mother; I saw the arrows bring her down. I just need to make sure she joins my father in the spirit world.”
The nun looked aghast at what the young man had said. “I don’t know about that.” She looked in confusion at the twins, who seemed to be perfectly at home with this concept. “The sheriff said he would come back out sometime this morning to check on you.”
“Please, it is very important.” Chase the Wind looked around the room as if seeking an avenue of escape. Jamie saw that he was determined to take care of his mother’s body, and he stepped up to his bed.
“Let’s wait for the sheriff to find out what’s going on. It’s only been one day, and they’re probably waiting to see if you have any family.”
“There is none.”
“But you said you were returning to be with your mother’s people.”
“Yes, people, not family.” He became agitated as he sought to explain things to the group of strangers gathered around him. “After my father’s death, we were not welcome with the tribe, so we were going to live among the white people, my mother’s people.”
“How come you were no longer welcome in the tribe?” Jenny asked, but Jamie held up his hand to stop her.
Chase the Wind looked at her with eyes full of pain. “It is not our way to speak of the dead. It keeps their spirits from finding peace.” He turned away from the three standing near his bed.
Jenny walked away, a heavy feeling in her heart. Sister Mary Frances carried a plate to Chase the Wind, who took it with a murmured thanks and ate a little. Jamie attacked his own breakfast with his usual gusto, sitting cross-legged on Jenny’s bed as he ate. Chase the Wind laid his plate aside when he was done and closed his eyes, as if to dismiss the group hovering around him. Jamie tugged his sister’s braid as he went out to attend to his chores in the barn. He had stopped going to classes after Marcus left; he was just repeating what he already knew anyway.
Sister Mary Frances went to report to Father Clarence on her patient’s condition. Jenny puttered about in the office, overcome with a restless feeling that she blamed on the changing weather conditions. It had started to sleet and a cold wind was coming in from the north, bringing the promise of snow before the day was over. She went back to the infirmary to make her bed, and noticed the steady rise and fall of Chase the Wind’s chest. She wondered how he could sleep with his leg up in traction, but decided that his injuries, compiled with his loss, were enough to exhaust anyone. She picked up a piece of embroidery she had started and sat in front of the small stove that kept the room warm. She was working at the piece when Sister Mary Frances came back with the sheriff.
“It’s getting fit to blow a big one,” he said by way of a greeting. “I need to get back to town before the storm sets in.”
Chase the Wind was wide awake when they entered the room and anxious to talk to the sheriff.
“What happened to you out there, boy?” the man asked.
“We were attacked by a small group, five of them. They were after our horses, and we had no weapons.”
“What were you doing out there alone?”
“We were going east, to make a new home among my mother’s people. Where is my mother now?”
“We buried her this morning—wanted to get her in the ground before it froze up again.” Sister Mary Frances laid a hand on the sheriffs arm to still his callous words. “We’ll put a name on a stone for her as soon as you tell us what it is.” Jenny watched despair possess Chase the Wind as he realized he could not send his mother to the spirit world.
“Hannah. Her name was Hannah.”
“Did she have a last name?” Jenny squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the sorrow that filled Chase the Wind, who looked at the sheriff with total disgust.
“I didn’t know it if she did. She had no need of it with the Kiowa.” The words were sharp, and the sheriff arched his eyebrows as if he had been insulted.
“Well, there’s nothing else I can do here,” he said to Sister Mary Frances. “I guess he’s an orphan now, and this is an orphanage.” The man left.
Chase the Wind closed his eyes, as if just looking around caused him pain. Sister Mary Frances laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, and there was no response. She left the room, and Jenny went back to her sewing, occasionally rising to check on the patient. He kept his face turned towards the wall, as if trying to shut out the world. Jenny felt for him, knowing that her frustration at being contained was nothing compared to his. He couldn’t even rise from the bed without help from Jamie.
Jamie did not take long with his chores and returned in less than an hour. There wasn’t much for him to do except make sure the animals were secure from the coining snow. He came stamping into the office, waving his arms like a windmill and shaking droplets of ice from his hair like a dog.
Chase the Wind opened his eyes as soon as Jamie stuck his head in the infirmary, and Jamie helped him up so he could relieve himself. The young man’s face remained lined with pain, whether from his broken leg or grief they couldn’t tell, but Jenny tried to be gentle as they replaced the rigging around the leg that kept it in traction. He settled back against the pillows when they were done. His eyes remained open this time, focusing on the window and the light pattering of sleet that was freezing on the pane and coming together to form large crystals. His dark eyes were filled with sadness as he watched the world ice over. He would be forced to remain where he was, in a strange bed, in a strange place, surrounded by strangers.
Jamie tugged Jenny’s braid and led her into the office, where he picked up the book and flipped to the page where he had stopped the previous day. He pulled a chair close to the door of the infirmary and began to read. Jenny brought her chair over to face Jamie and see past him into the other room. She picked up her embroidery and went back to work, and when she felt that she had let enough time pass, she looked up to see glowing dark eyes watching her as Jamie read from the book.
The wind rattled the windows, the sleet turned to snow, and the drifts piled up against the walls of the mission. In the infirmary, however, three people were carried to a tropical island by the sound of a rich young voice that brought the words to life. Jenny and Jamie had been hardly aware that Sister Mary Frances had joined them, picking up her knitting and taking a chair by the small stove, which crackled and blazed against the creeping cold. The three blinked like owls when the bell rang, announcing the dinner hour, and the nun went out to bring back a tray for her growing family.
In his bed, Chase the Wind’s eyes searched the room, as if he had just awakened from a dream.
Jamie stood and stretched, reaching his fingertips to the ceiling, then bending at the waist to touch the floor. Jenny picked up the poker and jabbed at the embers in the stove, then threw another chunk of wood in. Jamie went in to see if Chase the Wind needed anything, but he declined and Jamie promised to attend to him again before he went to bed. Sister Mary Frances returned with their dinner, and she stayed with the patient to help him with his meal while the twins ate in the office. After they were finished, Jamie helped the nun settle the young man for the night, then went off to his own bed.
Sister Mary Frances left to take the dishes back to the kitchen. While she was gone, Jenny changed into her gown and stood in front of the stove, brushing out her hair while soaking up the heat before making a dash to her bed in the other room. She wondered if she should find another blanket for Chase the Wind and decided to mention it to Sister Mary Frances when she came back. She continued brushing out her hair, humming to herself all the while, until sparks flew from the ends when she pulled the brush through. She edged her backside as close to the heat as she dared, then made a run for her bed.
Jenny pulled up short when she realized that Chase the Wind was standing at the end of his bed, his splinted leg held out stiffly beside him. Somehow he had released his leg from the rigging. He appeared to be dizzy; his hands were clutching the bed frame so tightly that his knuckles were white, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.
“What are you doing?” Jenny asked.
“I have to go to my mother. I need to send her to the spirit world.”
Chase the Wind Page 22
