"Will they come closer?" Rachel asked as she listened to their sad tune.
"Depends on how hungry they are." Hershel chuckled. "But not to fear. The fire will keep them away. We'll see to that."
Little Feather waited on Hershel, handing him his food, and coffee. She sat beside him and cuddled. Just from the look in her eyes, Rachel knew she loved him.
Rachel envied their love. She saw it in the Indian girl's face. It puzzled her how a girl so young could fall in love with a man so much older than herself. Hershel was older than Buck and she wondered why she had never thought to ask his age.
"How did you meet Little Feather?" she asked him.
Hershel glanced at his wife and kissed her on the nose. "I've known her all her life. I used to visit their camp at least twice a year. I was very good friends with her father."
"So…how did you two get together?"
"Well, after I killed the bear, her father was about. He wanted the skin. So he helped me skin it and then she comes along and takes over the job. She did a bang up job of it too. She is very talented. Anyway, I was bragging on her and her father looks at me and says. "You give me bear skin, I give daughter to you."
"Just like that?"
"Well, he knew I was sweet on her. We'd cuddled a time or two the visits before. I'm sure she told her father of her feelings for me. I tried to discourage her as a young maiden, but she was determined to have me. I thought I was too old for her, but she didn't. Her father agreed. He said she had lots of wisdom."
"She's a great skinner alright. I've seen her work, too." Buck agreed.
"And she ain't bad to look at either." Hershel laughed.
"She's quite beautiful," Rachel commented. Up against Little Feather she felt big and clumsy. She couldn't skin a bear. Yes, Hershel had married wisely. It was she that made the mistake.
Little Feather saw that Rachel wanted to be friends and she gave her a necklace from around her neck.
"Oh, I couldn't take that." Rachel cried. "It's too beautiful."
"You must take it, Rach. It is a dishonor not to take a gift." Buck informed her.
"Oh…well, in that case…thank you very much, Little Feather." Rachel looked at Hershel. "Does she understand English?"
"Very much so." Buck replied.
"Thank you, Little Feather. But what could I give you…"
Then she felt the cameo at her throat and took it off and handed it to Little Feather. The girl took it and her eyes widened. She smiled.
"Thank you!" She said proudly. "We are friends now, forever."
Rachel smiled. "I will remember you always."
Hershel and Buck looked at each other and smiled.
When the sun went down, the snow hardened with another freeze. By morning, the weather took a turn for the worse. The ground was treacherously slippery. Hershel insisted they all wear their snow shoes. Rachel found them clumsy, but Hershel insisted they were needed.
"Hey, Hershel, we had to stop at that little mine shack not far off for shelter. We could stop off again if you think it's gonna be too cold tonight." Buck suggested.
"That's a good idea." Hershel glanced at the women. "My friend you were right. It's gonna come a big snow, and we'll need shelter. No sense freezing to death."
It took another day to get to the shack and the weather was numbing.
When they arrived, Hershel and Buck built a big fire in the fireplace and fixed a spit for heating food. Hershel and Buck went out to find some game.
"It's too cold out there, you'll freeze to death," Rachel warned them.
"We won't be that long…" Buck told her.
Rachel looked doubtful.
Little Feather put her hand on Rachel's arm. "Do not fear for them, they know what they are doing. We will have meat to eat. We might get stranded here for a few days. We will need the meat."
"You have a lot of faith in them don't you?" Rachel asked.
"What is faith."
"It's what you believe in."
"I believe in my husband. He is a very good man, and he knows about this country." She smiled. "Why are you not mad at me for marrying your man?" Little Feather asked.
Rachel scrounged around in the cabin she had become familiar with and found some pots to cook things in. She looked at Little Feather. "I was never in love with Hershel. I barely know him. I wrote letters to him, and I thought he wrote them back to me. So I came and thought we would be married. But come to find out, he didn't write the letters."
"Who did?" She asked curiously.
"Buck!"
"Oh!" Little Feather smiled. "Then you fell in love with the wrong man, eh?"
"I fell in love with the letters." Rachel corrected her.
"When you look at Buck, I see things." Little Feather smiled again. "Your eyes shine. I saw it the first day, and it is still there."
"What do you see?" Rachel frowned at her.
"You like Buck."
"I like him, sure. But he is just a friend to me. I will go home now and leave them. I guess it's where I belong." Rachel said turning away from her.
"You will leave your heart with Buck?"
"No…no…"
The Indian girl smiled and was quiet.
But Rachel searched her heart and realized that Buck had come to mean more than just a friend. She did like him, a lot. Still, she had come here to marry Hershel. That was a disaster, and now she had to go home and put things right once more. Buck had been very good to her. However, she was sure he didn't love her. And she didn't love him. Did she?
The men were gone an hour, and Rachel was beside herself. After hearing wolves in the distance, she shuddered at every noise.
When the men burst through the door with a wild turkey, Little Feather laughed. "See, I told you they would find food."
Rachel wiped her worries away, but she was more than glad to see them.
After Little Feather cleaned and de-feathered the turkey, she handed it to Rachel to put on the fire.
Buck and Hershel were warming themselves.
When Hershel and Little Feather indulged in a couple of heated kisses, Buck came to stand beside Rachel. "You weren't worried about us, were you?"
"No, or course not. Little Feather explained you both knew what you were doing. I think I was just worried for me and her."
Buck smiled.
Rachel turned away from the kissing and looked at Buck.
"I'm gonna miss you Rach." He said unexpectedly.
"I-I guess you could write me…" She suggested. "Again."
He snickered. "Guess I could."
"Have you ever been to a big city?" She asked.
"Been to Denver. That's about all. Lots of people there." Buck said.
"Did you like it there?"
"Not really. I like it here, better."
"Oh…" Rachel remarked. "Of course."
"Better turn that turkey, don't want it to burn." He suggested.
"Oh sure…" She turned the stick. It was golden brown on one side. "I'm getting hungry, just looking at it."
"We were lucky to get it. Not much out there this time of year. Too cold. Animals got sense enough to take shelter in the cold." Buck told her.
Rachel glanced at Hershel, who was nibbling on Little Feather's ear. She envied them. They looked so happy together. She wondered if she would ever find that kind of happiness.
Chapter Thirteen
It was the third day at the cabin, and the snow was so high Buck and Hershel had to dig their way in and out the door.
"I think I'll go get some snow to make more coffee with later." Rachel said as she took the coffee pot with her. Little Feather was busy with a rabbit stew.
"Don't go far…" Little Feather warned.
"I won't. I guess I have cabin fever, not being able to go outside…" She smiled. "I may go for a little walk. I won't be gone long."
Little Feather nodded at her.
Rachel knew it was more than cabin-fever that bothered her. She was contemplating what
to do next. She had to get an annulment first. And she should probably take care of that before she went home, in case she had to get a hold of Hershel for anything.
But going home held no pleasure for her. She didn't belong in Philadelphia. She had learned that from this experience. She learned many things. And she realized with a full sadness that she would indeed miss Buck. They had become close, and she knew she would hold him in her heart forever. But he was a complete man without a woman and she knew he didn't need her to tie him down.
She was indulging in the freshness of her memories when she was jerked by the hair and pulled away suddenly.
She tried to scream, but a hand reached to cover her mouth. "You must not scream if you want to live…" The Indian said.
Rachel shook with true fear.
Her head was hurting from his pulling so hard.
It was the same Indian she and Buck had met on the trail up here. He was back, and this time he was taking her against her will. Before she could even think straight, he had tied her hands with leather and shoved her in front of him on his horse. He wrapped a rag around her mouth and she could not talk or scream to let the others know.
Silently he rode away into the forest, in a winding fashion, so she couldn't tell where she was going or how to save herself.
Hot tears ran down her cheeks as he man-handled her. His arms came around her and his head was close to hers. "You will be mine now…"
But his declaration was not one of love, but possession and she knew it. A new fear swelled inside her. Buck and Hershel would track her. They'd find her and rescue her from this wild man.
She shook her head vehemently, but it did no good.
She struggled, and fought but to no avail. Finally, she gave up and resigned herself to being a captive.
What had Buck said? He would take her as his woman?
She couldn't let that happen.
He'd have to kill her first.
Bold thoughts, but when they came to an encampment later that evening, the only thing that hit her was pure, white fear!
There were a number of tipis in a small clearing, and many Indians running about. Some stopped to look at her, others ignored her. The women were dressed in buckskins and covered in animals skins to keep them warm. The men wore leggings and buckskin too. Some had elaborate beads on their clothes. Some had feathers and teeth from animals hanging from their neck.
He took the rag from her mouth slowly.
"What are you going to do with me?" She shouted the minute her mouth was free.
"You will be my white squaw." He said simply, a satisfied, as a rather smug look, crossed his face.
"Never…I will never be yours. You were wrong to take me."
"Then you will be my slave forever." He countered just as satisfied. "I fancy a white slave to do my biding."
She looked at him strangely, "Where did you learn English?"
"From the white man's missions. On the reservation we were forced to learn your language. Forced to do many things we did not want to do. The white man's rules. Had they had their way, we would no longer be Indians, but a copy of a white man."
"Aren't you breaking a treaty of some kind, taking me like you did?"
"Treaties are what you white people made. And broke, many times. You will be either my woman, or my slave. Whichever you chose. But you will belong to me. And you will know that for the rest of your life. Besides, there is no treaty between a man and a woman. Only Indian and whites. Most of my people have gone willingly to the Wind River Reservation, after fighting many wars when the gold was discovered. I do not wish to live with the Shoshone's. Ten years ago, it was a bloody bath, now it is not. But that does not stop me from taking a woman that I want. You have fire in your hair. I like looking upon you. You will be my white wife."
"Never?" Rachel wrinkled her nose and frowned at him.
"Never is a long time, and you will rethink it when you have slaved for me for so long. You will beg me to take you to my tipi."
She spat at him. "Never!"
His eyes danced with merriment.
"Your hair, is like a burst from the sun, it shines like the metal from a gun. It fascinates me. I told your man, you would belong to me. I warned him. Now it is so."
Rachel looked about at the tipis, and the women who were doing most of the work. Dear God, she would be a slave…?
That evening, several squaws joined them and made over her dark red hair. Some would pull on it, others would touch it.
Rachel didn't know what to do, or what to expect next. But in a circle of Indian women, they pushed and shoved her and laughed at her.
Finally, they brought her food. It was served in a pottery bowl and it tasted wild. It was meat of some kind and cooked from an open fire. It had a great taste, and she was starved. She ate most of it with her fingers.
They stared at her and laughed.
"You eat good. That is good. Make you strong."
After careful consideration, Rachel offered him a bargain. "I will willingly be your slave…if you do not touch me."
The Indian stared at her a long time. He nodded slowly. "It is done then. You will be my slave…my unpicked flower."
"And you will not touch me!" She repeated, waiting for his compliance.
He nodded. "It is done."
"Good. Now what do I do?" She asked, eager to have this bargain settled.
"You will wash my clothes, fix my meals, take care of my children." He smiled. "You will be expected to go with my wives to gather wood and herbs and carry them back, tan hides when we hunt. Many duties for the slave. You will haul water from the creeks. When we move, you will tear down the tipi and carry it on your back, or on a horse, if we have one."
"How many wives do you have?"
"Three…the ones that came to you. The first one, Sesari, she was my chosen wife, later I took her sister Fawn, when no one claimed her, and then another widow of the tribe, Leaping Deer. Each have different tipis, each have my children. Each are proud to be the wife of a good warrior. Someday you will beg to become my wife."
"How many children do you have?" She asked, looking about the camp and seeing a small crowd of children.
"I have fifteen children so far, Sesari will have another come spring." He said proudly.
Rachel swallowed this information with astonishment. "Then with such a big family, why do you need me? Why do you seek what you don't need."
"The widow she is ugly," he scrunched up his nose in dislike. "But she is powerful when we come together, yet I cannot forget her ugliness. She works good with Sesari. Sesari's sister is plain to look at. No man in the tribe wanted her, I felt sorry for her. I took her in, she is a good cook and very good with the children. She is very kind to me, and always does my biding. She has also given me seven of my children. You are fair and good to look at. I can content myself with just looking at you, every day. I need not touch you, to have relations with you. In my spirit, it will be as though we are married."
This scared her witless. What did he mean?
"In my mind, my heart, and my dreams, I will have relations with you. You will be my woman, too. Then someday, you may come to me and want to be my wife." He explained with a confident air about him. "Willingly, when you see what a great warrior I am."
"I'm already married," She swallowed hard. "And your fighting would not impress me."
He studied her for a long while before speaking. "But you do not belong to him…your husband. I see that in your eyes."
"H-how did you know?" She was amazed by his cleverness.
"You have not been touched by any man. That I see. That I like. Like a flower that is too lovely to pick. I will not pick, but rather gaze upon you with my heart. You will come to me sooner or later." He whispered as he came nearer. "And it will be your wish to be my woman."
"You are a handsome warrior, and most women would be pleased to be with you. But I am taken. My husband and I are newly married. I took a vow with him. It is a sacred vow. I
honor that vow."
"But you and he are not one yet. It is not a completed task this marriage of yours."
"Remember our bargain, you will honor it, will you not?" She asked, shrinking away from him.
He nodded. "I will honor it. Get some sleep, for tomorrow you will work. You will work hard, and you will suffer from the harshness of that work. But you will also learn the Indian ways and soon…you will come to me…willingly."
She stared at him with her mouth open.
The squaws came and got her and took her to a tipi. They were not happy she was here. That was good. She wasn't happy either. She glanced around at the furry skins on the ground near the fire. The fire was built in the middle and brought surprising warmth to her.
She hadn't realized how cold she was. Fear had been upmost on her mind.
With a bargain struck, she thought perhaps she might get along here, for a while. At least until someone rescued her.
As she lay against the soft fur, she closed her eyes and thought about Buck and Hershel. Would they come after her, and would they find her?
When Sesari came in Rachel raised up. "What is his name?"
She smiled, "He is Running Wolf. My husband."
"Do you like sharing him…" She asked with a frown.
"I see the need…with my sister, and the widow. But with you, no, I do not want to share him with you." She stared at her with a frown. "You are not from our tribe. Not of our people. He steals you like a thief in the night. I love my husband, and I will stay with him, no matter what he does. But I will never accept you as his wife. Never."
"I've made a bargain with him. He won't touch me, if I will be his slave…" She said quietly.
Sesari stared at her strangely, turning her head in question. "Why would he bargain at all. You are his property, he can do as he wishes."
"I'm hoping he will keep his bargain…"
"He has sworn to it?"
"He has."
"Then he will not break his promise. But you must not break yours. You will be a slave. You will be treated as such. You will carry the heaviest loads, you will tan the most leather, you will be our slave too. It is good, this bargain. You will not like it in the end. Five babies to care for. Running Wolf is admired by all his people, for he has many wives and children."
Brides of the West-Part One Page 32
